Intoxicated (27 page)

I nodded, and did as instructed. I locked my
car and followed him to the Civic.

“I’m really sorry about being pissed off at
you,” I admitted as we rounded the trunk of the offending car, “but
I was really scared. I appreciate you dropping what you were doing
to come get me.”

He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it.”

He opened the rear passenger door for me and
I climbed in. For a brief, awkward moment, I was sitting in some
guy’s car that I had never met before, alone with him. Then Matthew
assumed his place up front and made the introductions.

“Lauren, this is Chris. Chris, Lauren.”

“Hi,” I said softly, my mind working
overtime.

“Hi,” Chris replied. He turned around in his
seat to face me as best as he could.

So here he was. The elusive Chris. Matthew’s
best friend. Blake’s ex-boyfriend.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” He smiled easily, showing off
perfect teeth. His dark brown, almost black hair was worn spiky,
and he had large, chocolate brown eyes. Was everyone associated
with the Snyders ridiculously attractive? If so, what was I doing
here?

“Do you want to stop somewhere and get
something to eat?” Matthew asked.

It took me a moment to realize that his
question was directed towards me.

“No, I’m not really hungry,” I lied.

“It’s no trouble, really,” Chris indicated,
but I shook my head.

“I’ll just eat something at home.”

“Okay then,” Chris said, “home it is.”

Matthew directed him on just where that was,
and I realized that Chris and Blake had broken up long before she
became a homeowner. For whatever reason, I just assumed that he
would have known where she lived now, but it made sense that he
didn’t.

“You would think,” Chris began, “that this
car would be some kind of a divining rod, but it’s not.”

Matthew laughed heartily before explaining to
me. “This used to be Blake’s car. Our dad bought this for her when
she turned sixteen. When she graduated from high school, he bought
her a Mercedes, and sold this to Chris for a song.”

“Just goes to show you that their parents
weren’t always assholes,” Chris commented.

“So the two of you are like kindred spirits
of sorts, driving aged Hondas and all.”

“Mine’s fifteen years old with two hundred
thousand miles on it,” I said proudly, finding my voice.

“This one’s slightly newer. Eleven years old.
I hope she lasts another four years. Actually, I think it will be a
sad day when I have to give her up.”

“You’ve taken really good care of it,” I
said, and meant it. The interior was showroom clean, and I would
have bet the balance in my bank account that the outside was just
as immaculate. This car was a labor of love for him. I reckoned it
had less to do with the car itself and more to do with who it used
to belong to. If he was a car guy like Matthew, he wouldn’t be
babying a well-used Civic. It wasn’t exactly a classic car.

“Thanks. So, you’ve been Blake’s roommate for
what, about two or three months now? Just a word of warning: don’t
believe anything she says about me.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him that she
had said very little about him at all. Instead, I just nodded. I
had been sure that there was juicy backstory behind their breakup;
this just confirmed that. But while Blake had been fairly
forthcoming with her brother’s secrets, she hadn’t come nearly as
clean with her own. I was fully aware that Matthew knew the whole
truth, but I hadn’t been willing to pry. We had barely talked about
his own issues; I didn’t want to seem gossipy. Which reminded me
that Matthew hadn’t opened up about what he had discussed with my
father. At this rate, he probably never would. I might have to get
that story from Blake as well.

We were fast approaching the juncture with
the interstate. As we got closer to the fast food restaurants on
either side of the onramps, Matthew asked again if I was hungry.
Even though the bright lights beckoned to me with their offerings
of fatty, inexpensive food, I declined once more. I didn’t want to
impose upon them any more than I already had.

“You probably scared away any appetite she
had,” Chris muttered. “That was pretty harsh.”

Matthew shifted in his seat, and I blushed.
Of course Chris would have heard the whole thing. He just hadn’t
mentioned it until now. I tried to decide if he was taking my side,
or if he was complimenting his friend’s ability to scare the living
daylights out of me. I gave him the benefit of the doubt and
figured he was attempting to defend my honor.

“I told her I was sorry!”

“Yeah,” Chris chuckled, “I saw your guys’
little apology session.”

If possible, I turned even redder.
Fortunately for me, we were far enough away from the interstate now
that the city lights had disappeared. Even if one of them would
have looked back at me, I would be covered in shadows, my
embarrassment hidden.

Matthew directed Chris the rest of the way to
Blake’s house, effectively ending that line of conversation. I
wondered how much Chris knew about me; was he judging me for an
innocent hug with his friend? Did he know all about Eric? About
what had happened last night? I wasn’t sure if guys confided in
each other the way that girls did. At that moment, I hoped not.

“So which house is it?” Chris asked as he
pulled onto my street.

“The yellow one on the cul-de-sac,” I
replied, finding my voice.

“Don’t worry, man,” Matthew encouraged,
“she’s not home. She’s out on a – “

“Client meeting,” I interjected, feeling the
need to lie.

Chris snorted. “So that’s what she calls them
now. Honestly, I’m afraid that I’ll burst into flames if I get
within fifty feet of her door.”

“You can drop me off at the curb,” I
suggested helpfully.

“Nah, it’s okay. Sometimes you just have to
confront your demons.”

He pulled into the driveway without
incident.

“I suppose inviting you inside is out of the
question, then?” I laughed.

“I said confront your demons, not stick your
finger in them where the sun doesn’t shine.”

I smiled as I gathered up my belongings.
“Well, Chris, it was nice meeting you. And thank you for coming to
my rescue.”

“My pleasure. Try to have a good night,
considering everything.”

I had the distinct feeling that he wasn’t
referring to just my car.

“Yeah,” I said nonchalantly, “hope you guys
do, too.”

“Lauren,” Matthew stopped me just as I was
about to pop open the door, “if you need anything, let me
know.”

“Okay.”

I made my way up the sidewalk and to the
porch. Chris waited to pull away until I had the front door
unlocked and I had started to go inside. I turned and waved; he
gave a quick honk of his horn in response. I stood at the door long
after the taillights of the Civic had disappeared from view, trying
to piece together what had just happened. One thing I was sure of
was that a lot of angst had filled the interior of that car when
the three of us had occupied it.

Suddenly exhausted, I piled my stuff on the
kitchen table and made my way to the fridge to get something,
anything, to eat. My growling stomach had returned, and I regretted
my decision not to pick up anything on the way here. I settled for
a bowl of cereal, swallowing it down quickly before retreating
upstairs to my room. Not a gourmet meal by any means, but it did
the trick.

I changed into my pajamas, even though it
wasn’t yet ten o’clock on a Friday night. I carefully placed my
work clothes into the bag I kept handy for drycleaning and shoved
it into my closet. As I set the bag on the floor, I looked straight
up at the red dress I had been wearing that ill-fated night Eric
had chosen the airport over me. Matthew had hung it up in here, and
I hadn’t been able to look at it the same since. Every time I did,
I thought of him picking it up off the floor, his hands smoothing
the fabric as he placed it on the hanger, positioning my shoes
underneath.

Then my mind would invariably wander to him
carrying me up the stairs and depositing me in my bed, pulling the
comforter over my sleeping body. I wished I would have been a fly
on the wall that night, to see the way he treated me when no one
else was looking, not even myself. The thought both scared and
intrigued me.

Before I could continue any further down that
road, I pushed my thoughts back to Eric. He was no doubt having the
time of his life in Vegas by now. I was probably the last thing on
his mind. If I was placing a bet, I would wager it had been quite a
while since I had placed in his top ten. Yet something kept us
together, gravitating towards one another. Stubbornness, stupidity,
fear of the unknown? I wasn’t certain.

What I did know was that I wouldn’t be able
to make it through the weekend without trying to pick up the pieces
that had fallen apart yet again.

Blake and Matthew met me in the driveway as I
pulled up in my brand new Hyundai Sonata Hybrid, despite the fact
that it was freezing cold and snow flurries dotted the sky. I
didn’t bother opening the garage door, parking instead in the
driveway and hopping out. I unlocked all the doors, popped open the
trunk and hood, and stood amused as they made their
inspections.

After much soul-searching, the impulsive side
of me had won out and I had decided against having the Accord
fixed. On Matthew’s advice, I had had my old car towed to the
garage he recommended. Although the estimate I had been given was
reasonable, I decided against paying to have it fixed and instead
sold it to the owner so he could part it out.

For the past couple of weeks I had depended
upon Blake’s generosity. She had brought home the Trailblazer from
the design studio and allowed me to drive the Miata. Secretly, I
figured her graciousness was the direct result of her wanting to
beat her brother to the punch. I knew that had I needed him to, he
would have given me the keys to either the Mustang or the Camry
without a second thought, further blurring the lines of our
friendship. Before we delved into even more dangerous territory,
Blake had sacrificed her own car. I knew she didn’t like to drive
the SUV for personal use, but I hadn’t heard one complaint about
it.

Between juggling work and trying to repair my
ailing relationship with Eric, I had thoroughly researched the
biggest purchase I had ever made. Like with most every other major
decision, I analyzed it from every angle. I gathered opinions,
weighed my options, then slept on it. Maybe impulsive was the wrong
word for what happened.

Eric and I were back on speaking terms,
though we danced around our issues without really discussing them.
Our conversations focused on the safe, for which I was grateful. I
really hated to bring up something so serious over the phone. I
wasn’t about to drive to Indy while I was relying on the Miata for
transportation; that just seemed like taking advantage of Blake.
And Eric hadn’t volunteered to come back up to Fort Wayne.
Honestly, I couldn’t blame him.

Instead, he had provided me with his opinions
on what my next vehicle should be. His first suggestion had been a
BMW, which I had nixed outright. He continued down the list of
luxury vehicles from a Lexus to a Mercedes to a Cadillac; when I
had refused all those, a Volvo. Admittedly, I did consider a Volvo
longer than the others, but still decided against it.

Defeated, Eric had uncharacteristically spent
hours on the phone with me searching the internet for my next car.
After a lot of debate, we came across the Sonata. I loved it
immediately. He could live with it. And so it was decided. As a
consolation, I promised I wouldn’t settle for anything less than
fully loaded. The color choice, red, was mine alone.

As luck would have it, no cars at the local
dealership had met my criteria. I had test driven a charcoal gray
one that had everything else on my list, but turned up my nose.
This car was going to be with me for a long time; there was no
sense in settling for good enough. So the accommodating salesman
had done some digging and found the exact car I wanted in Illinois
somewhere. I had written a hefty downpayment check and they had
promised to make it happen. Five business days later, my new car
was ready for me.

Which led me to now. Shivering, I stood back
as Blake and Matthew ogled my vehicle from every possible angle.
There was something about a new car that made people gather, sort
of like babies and puppies. Try as I might to tell myself it was
just a means to get from point A to point B, I had to admit that
there was a sense of euphoria in my stomach. I rather liked my
early Christmas present.

“Enough,” I said finally, shooing them away,
“I’m freezing. Let’s go inside.”

They scattered, heading up the sidewalk to
the front porch. I climbed in the driver’s seat and pulled it in to
the garage. We met in the kitchen.

Since I had been occupied at the dealership,
Matthew had brought over a pizza for dinner. Blake grabbed the
paper plates from the cabinet and we sat down at the breakfast bar
for a decidedly casual meal. As I lifted a slice of thin crust
pepperoni from the box to my plate, I took in my surroundings and
felt at peace.

Through the sliding glass doors that led out
to the deck I could see that the snow had begun falling in earnest.
The wintery backdrop added a serene quality to the scene that
played out in front of me. Blake and Matthew laughed about
something that I had missed during my reverie, their faces pure
images of joy. I smiled to myself, thinking that out of all the
people that I had ever met, these two deserved to be happy more
than anyone else.

So often both sets of ocean blue eyes would
look at me with an unmistakable twinge of pain even when I had said
something benign. I knew there was so much that I didn’t know. I
doubted that if I hadn’t revealed my mother’s fate early on that I
would have even gotten the partial story. My knowledge barely
scratched the surface. I wondered if I would ever learn the whole
truth.