love, actually

Not PG rated

The sun is milky while she lies sleeping on the cushions. She was reading, the pages lie open on her chest. He carefully picks up the piece, puts it on the table. He sits back on the glass and watches her, the proof that she is real. Some time between the successions of dawn and dusk, pain faded and allowed something else to live between them, opening up the possibility of peace. 

There are no sheets. The plains barely clad, cool in their smoothness where dark pillars rise leading down to the source forgotten yet known where he drowns repeatedly tasting the texture of a touch while the heat spreads and silence is no longer a sound.sunlight_525

Under his hands she comes alive reaching under his skin, pulling out the pieces while he looses the last bit of weakness that fills the deep he’s breathing in, steady, steady, in and out, rise and fall, a force of life till time no longer runs and rushes but melts down into heat and darkness filled with light she holds in her hands, pressing the past into his skin, marking his body burning deep past muscle into bone until it comes like fog falling down the mountain before she cries, softly, and the air is free again.

Her body is his blanket, he does not need more against the cold. She has allowed him, released an amnesty for this witching hour where his body felt stripped, without armor, newborn, real. She has turned a blind eye on the truth that they both know for this long moment between night and morning and in her mercy there is no weakness yet he felt no strength of his own.

At a loss now, he searched for paths and ways, roads otherwise traveled that would show him what to do with his life, void and meaningless as it was without her acceptance of those words that made up his apology. The words would need to be said no matter how often he threw them against the walls barbed with silent terror, no matter how often he sent them flying, crashing against the fortress of consequence. Every living thing insisted that they be said, be it just once, otherwise everything worth living for would be dead and what was more sacred than the rise and fall, that steady beat right under the curve of her breast?

*

‘You haven’t been here yet, have you?’ she asks. I shake my head. We’re at her new place, an apartment she shares with a friend. It looks good, books on the table, some magazines on the easy chair, a couple o’ plants. There’s music coming out of a closed door, she whispers, ‘Eddy’s here,’ grinning like that. Must be her friend’s guy then. She asks me if I’d like some coffee, we almost got caught in the rain. I keep it to, ‘Yeah, why not.’ We talk some about everything while she walks around, those jeans fit her perfect. Like always, I don’t know what to do, exactly. She looks relaxed, she always does, there’s nothing that can really throw Celine. She pours out the coffee into mugs, stirs in milk and sugar and hands me one. She still knows how I take it. Nice.

She’s sitting on her desk chair now, facing me. I’m on her bed, she’s still got the best I’ve ever seen. Probably coz I know she’s usually in it. I’d like to stop this waiting. She finally looks back at me. She stops talking, I don’t know what she just said. She takes a sip of coffee and puts her cup down on her desk. Then she turns back to me, gets up and straddles me slow, pulling off my scull cap just like she used to. Her hands fit light on my head. She says, ‘I really like these studs on you.’ I kiss her before she starts thinking twice about it, it’s happened before. Or worse, back then, way at the beginning. Half the night talking, arguing, fighting until she was crying, shouting, ‘Why don’t you even try to get me! Why won’t you even try to understand!’ She was so pissed… silkwood whiteHer eyes all wet, and that look on her face like I was fucking up her life on purpose. That whole weekend was – bad. Just bad. I didn’t know nothin’ then. I don’t want that now. She looks too good now.

She’s smiling when I pull her closer. Her lips are as soft as ever. Just kissing her again is… why’d nobody say you had to know stuff early? That it could happen before graduation? That your girl could just know, really know what was out there? Why’d no one say?

We used to spend whole nights just doing this, hidin’ out in her room, her folks wouldn’t let her stay out after ten, especially with me. Her old man… that guy was tough. So, she’d sneak me in when her folks were sleeping, and then… Learnt to wait with her, wait until she took out one from that pink case in her drawer next to the bed. She got me used to them, she wouldn’t let me otherwise. ‘I love you Alec, but I don’t want your babies just yet.’ She meant it to. We made plans. After, with her all curled up nice, her skin perfect, her heartbeat this steady real thing right under my hand. We’d talk about it, that house, those cars, that pool. Having everyone over for cookouts, getting Nate for the barbecues. We’d had it all planned out. ‘Xcept I thought she was just dreamin’ it up. She meant it from the start.

I remove everything on her after she pulls off my sweater, taking the shirt with it, she always does it like that. She smiles, ‘Still working the gym I see.’ Her hands are warm, perfect, why’s it with her that she just knows? I lay her out on her bed before I go for her breasts. I’ve missed them like nothing else, she’s got the most perfect pair. We both get her out of her jeans, lingerie – holy shit – wait, wait, I wanna see that – fuck…  I have to ask,

‘Where’d you get this from.’
‘London.’
‘London? Like, London, England?’books 2
‘Yeah. We have this mandatory thing where you have to leave the country for at least two weeks. I can’t do a full term so I took the two weeks Literary London. That’s how Professor Bernard calls it.’

Sometimes I just want her life. It’s always just a second, but it keeps on turning up and then I just want that way of being at the right place at the right time. Just knowing how it’s done.

‘When was this?’
‘Two months ago.’
‘How was it?’
‘Really nice. I got to see a lot.’
‘And buy this.’
‘Yeah.’

She smiles there, pulls me down – her lips are still the softest. And she did come back. She always comes back.

I go for what’s waiting between her thighs, smooth, her legs are endless with these tiny feet. There’s nothing like what she tastes like. I stay till she’s there, right there, she’s easy on her voice, her hands on my head, her feet rubbing up and down my back and I want her to black out, make her come so hard she just falls apart. I got her crying once, but now’s not the time. I’ll split open if I don’t do something – that’s new. Probably from over there. Did she –? Now’s not the time. Fits too, and I sure hope she still has a few coz I love being inside this woman. I love fucking her so much I always want to marry her right after. I’d ask her too if I didn’t know she’d just look at me and roll her eyes like I was bullshitting. Or smile that smile from that other world she lives in, which’d be worse, but now’s not the time.

. . .

‘Alec?’
‘Hm.’

That was just too good. Maybe I should move back up here again.

‘Do you still write?’

I kiss her instead of answering, I don’t want to have to explain that. I keep it long, but after I let her go she asks, ‘You still write, don’t you?’ I can’t answer that. She sits up a bit and looks at me. It’s her look, the one only she has, that special mix of anger and disappointment that she tops off with that tone as if she doesn’t know who I am anymore.

writing-arts-fountain-pen‘Why don’t you write anymore? Alec? Why don’t you write anymore?’
‘There’s no point.’
‘Why? You love to write, why’d you stop?’

She’s sitting up straight now, staring at me. If I’d said I’d robbed a place she’d look just the same. I still say it,

‘That’s not me anymore.’
‘Of course it’s you –! Alec, that’s like the one thing – ’
‘Carmine.’
‘What?’
‘Carmine. In the city, people call me Carmine.’
‘Why?’
‘Dunno. Just started.’
‘Carmine?’
‘Yeah. Or Car.’
‘Car? You mean, like, the thing you drive in?’
‘Yeah.’

I can’t help smiling.  She looks really surprised.

‘But, Alec, you’re not a machine.’

It’s stuff like that, these things she says that make it so crystal how no matter what I do, I’ll never get her and she’ll never get me. Maybe Nisha’s right and street stays street, no matter what you do to get rid of it. Yeah, it says Alec Bellamy on my license, but that ain’t really me. At least not all me, and Celine here… she never got that. And I don’t think she ever will.

© 2014 threegoodwords

together, apart

Man, that was too much – wait, what the – table’s laid, candles. I know Aly’s with J. Some concert, they’re always at some concert or reading or whatever. Lemme check first. Yep, Nisha’s in the kitchen, playin’ cook. Ok. First get rid of this – I should really get that fixed. Any deeper and the stuffin’s out. How did she get in? I say ‘Hi’ anyway. Nisha turns and smiles wide. She looks good. And she’s in that mood again, wrappin’ her arms around my neck and kissing me like that’s so normal.

‘How’d you get in?’
‘Aly borrowed me her key.’

Thought so.

‘So what is it?’
‘What’s what?’

I nod at the stove. Nisha smiles.

snack‘It’s a recipe from my Moma – don’t worry, I know how to make it.’
‘I’ll take a shower first.’
‘Sure. Take your time. Still got half an hour.’
‘Cool.’

The water’s hot and good, Aly’s place always has good pressure. I don’t get what Nisha’s up to. She hasn’t talked to me for over a month, six weeks actually. For all I know she’s been fucking that studio guy since we fought. So why now?

She must have memorised her Moma’s recipe, coz that was seriously good. We’re on the couch now, and watching a movie. I think she’s trying to make this out like some kind o’ date night. Yeah, I’m surprised, this ain’t the Nisha I know, but I keep it down. Nisha’s been honey sweet all evening, course I don’t trust it. She’s up to something. Movie’s about done, she’ll probably start right after. Unless I can catch her off guard.

‘Nisha.’
‘Hm.’
‘What’s goin’ on.’
‘What?
‘You’re here.’
‘Yeah, course I am.’
‘Why’re you here?’’
‘Coz I missed you,’ she smiles and squeezes up against me. Yeah, right. She must’ve seen it, coz she ups it with,
‘So I hear you’ve been goin’ out some.’
‘Really.’
‘Yeah. Some white girl downtown.’

Shit. I better call her up, check if she’s ok. You never know with Nisha. She’s got sources.

‘Says who?’
‘Who cares? I heard it. It ain’t true, is it?’

Nisha’s way too calm about this. I really should check on her, Amanda. Longer you say it, better it gets. Last thing she needs is Nisha on her case. Knowing her, she wouldn’t know how to deal with that. I keep it to,

‘So, why’re you here?’

Nisha straddles me and starts kissing my face.

‘I missed you, baby, ain’t that enough?’
‘Hm.’

I watch her take off her top, bra, her tits plop out nice. When she leans down again I can’t help myself. ‘Tanisha, why’re you here?’ She sits up and looks at me like I’m a fuckin’ asshole for asking.

‘What’s so crazy about me wanting to see my boyfriend?’
‘I thought we’d quit?’

She didn’t expect that.

‘Coz you see, someone told me you’re fucking that guy from the studio.’

She rolls her eyes and smiles, a bit too sly.

‘Oh come on, baby, that was nothing.’
‘Tanisha.’

She sighs loudly and sits back again.

‘What’s your problem, Car?’
‘I don’t have a problem. I’m just surprised you’re here.’
‘Why?’

She really doesn’t understand. I push her off my lap and get up.

‘Where’re you goin’?’ Like I have no right to leave.
‘Bathroom.’

Her sigh sounds relieved. She probably thinks I’m getting a Trojan. I close the door, it still smells like Aly’s perfume in here. Now, either I let Nisha have her way then she’ll leave me alone, or I say no and it’ll be some serious shouting till 3 a.m. Today was way too long for that. Aly really needs to stop giving Nisha my key.

Aly’s bed is awesome, seriously, where’d she get this mattress from? Even better than Amanda’s and that one’s already too good. Nisha’s on me doing her work with a smile. First time I’m glad the Trojan’s between us. I watch her, tits bouncing, her arms stretched out, hands flat against the wall. She looks good like this, but I know it’s over. I don’t want this anymore. Even fucking her ain’t half the fun it used to be. Yeah, that’s givin’ up one hell of a blow, but it’s not the same no more. All that noise after, I don’t need that right now. And after Aly and J. and that You really think you’ll make it? There’s no point really. Nisha’s almost done, but what’s there is Amanda sleeping in her bed. She sleeps like a kid, happy in a way. I like that.

*

Light flashes like stars up close and he holds up a hand to protect her from the stares. She said he needed to get out, show his face, prove that he was back again. He wants to open the pavement and slide back underground where it is warm and silent with sounds that make sense. She keeps his hand in hers and smiles when she hears the questions, pulling him on, down the broad red line, passed giants with beetle eyes into a cave full of diamonds.drink 1 Heart beating he asks for some peace and quiet and she tells him that he will be all right. They take chairs in the shadows, the stage is alight. He hears words that ask him what he wants, he thinks ‘her body in mine’, but says nothing and hears her voice instead. She orders something simple for two, he leans over to her, yet she turns too soon and he meets her lips instead of her ear. She smiles and asks him to relax, that is all he needed. He leans back, looks and recognizes faces. They smile back at him, their eagerness irritating. There is structure here, obstructing. There are lines and patterns, circles and squares, and she moves among them with ease while he feels every inch and corner, every sharp edge on his skin.

*

It’s the 7th and a Sunday, which is good, that gives me time. Six hotdogs, the Special. Four should do, but you never know, watching water always makes me hungry and it’ll be a whole day out there. They guy packs them tight in the box bag. The lining keeps them good for at least three hours. It takes two to get up there, one and a half if the traffic’s ok. I pay, and walk out, the car’s already rented, that way I know it’s clean and won’t break down on me half way. Plus, it’s nice driving something you’re not used to. An SUV this time, what do they call it, champagne, with off-white seats and awesome headboard.

Look at him check me out. Yeah, that’s my ride. He’s impressed man, seriously impressed. Aly hates it how people get all worked up about cars, but man… One day I’ll get one on my own. bright and pretty kitchenI’ll drive it to work and pick the kids up on my way home. A big house with one of those kitchens where you can have a real breakfast with the kids, cook a big dinner and lay out the ribs for some serious BBQ. One of those long dinner tables for Thanksgiving, get Ma and Gran over, Uncle Vince, Ricky, Cam, Nate and everyone else. An awesome den for the Superbowl. A back yard you can put a pool in and have the kids’ friends over for their birthdays. Two, Junior and my girl. Maybe three if she’s up for it. Yeah, one day this won’t be rented. With Takeshi and Bruce around, it’ll work, I know it, and I’m definitely going to that dinner. Kesh said there’d be some people there who’d give me some good pointers, he’d already told his Dad I was coming, and Aly promised she’d help me figure out the suit, so that’s covered. Richardson said my business plan looked solid, meant it too, plus, I aced that Macro exam, so yeah. One day, this’ll be mine.

Traffic’s fine. Player’s on Jigga, but I’m keepin’ it low, I need to be solid once I’m there. It’s like changing gears driving up there, stepping back, cooling down. Calm, yeah, that’s what it is up there. And they expect you to tone it down, but it’s like I’ve lost a layer when I’m there, like it’s all gone once I get out o’ the car. It’s getting better though, way better than before.

Car’s parked, I’ve got the bag box, keys – yeah. All set. There’s no one on the pier though it’s pretty warm for now, some wind, but low. The sun’s behind the clouds. The benches are empty, but I sit down all the same and smell the sea. That’s the most in your face smell, seaweed. You can’t mix it up with anything else.pier And the sky. It’s grey today, kind o’ flinty. Yeah, they’d say flinty to that. – There. Fuck, already. But I don’t turn until I hear the steps stop and look up. She doesn’t smile right away, but she does smile. That smile. Really, that smile. Then she says, ‘Hi, Alec,’ right after.

‘Hi, Celine.’
‘You been waiting long?’

I shake my head. She sits down next to me and looks at me, eyes wide. They’re this deep, deep black with whites like milk and endless lashes. Movie eyes, in close up, that’s what they are, beautiful just ain’t enough. Last time we’d hugged by now and she gave me two of those French kisses, quick and soft on my cheek. I don’t know anyone else who does that – there. One, two. Her lips are as soft as ever.

‘You look good,’ she says, smiling. ‘Those new?’ She reaches out, pinches my earlobe.
‘Yeah.’
‘Nice. Look at you, all urban chic.’

She laughs there, showing off that smile. Really, that smile. Nothing beats that smile.

*

‘Yeah, it’s good, pretty tricky actually as it’s all stream of consciousness and you have to really allow yourself to get into the character, you know, find your way into Stephen’s mind and forget that you’re in the twenty-first century, but that you’re this Irish kid who went to a really strict Catholic school. He had a hell of a time there and he’s got all these issues when it comes to women anyway – did you get to the part with the prostitute? Yeah? Weird don’t you think? Imagine us living there, I mean, course, it’d be different for us, but think we’d be some Irish kids back then, I mean, we couldn’t just sit here eat hotdogs, drink coke and just talk about, well just talk really. Y’know? There were all these rules, all these do’s and don’ts, all this stuff you weren’t allowed to look at, all these things you weren’t allowed to think about or speak about. I always feel that back then people were surrounded by this huge web, no, labyrinth of forbidden stuff and you had to navigate through it without making a wrong move, y’know, like in Indiana Jones, when they’re looking for the Holy Grail and he steps on the wrong stone and falls through? Yeah, something like that. books&glassesSay the wrong thing or go to the wrong place, basically be interested in something you shouldn’t be interested in, something people say you shouldn’t even think of, and you’re done for. Unless you’re really strong, but I don’t know if I could be that strong. Not just muscles you know, but that inner strength, sticking things through coz you know that’s what’s for you, or like J. used to say, ‘your truth’, y’know? I think that’s really tough. Are they still together by the way? That’s great, he needs someone like her, at least she gets him. Anyway, I went off on a tangent there, sorry. It’s great that you’re reading it, that’s awesome. I know I had to really put myself back while reading it, really forget myself, you know, and try a different mode of thinking, see the world, or rather Stephen’s world, through his eyes, and not my interpretation of it. It wasn’t easy, but it was cool. It got tedious at times, but still it’s worth it. And it’s a great start for Modernism, though you better read a bit of Pound and Woolf if you want to get the whole thing, and then there’s Eliot of course but I don’t know. We just did Prufrock – it’s this loooong poem about a guy who’s nuts basically, it’s kind of depressing, but the images are good and it takes ages to interpret anyway, but it’s ok and my professor’s great so it’s not too bad. That’s really cool that you’re reading it, Portrait I mean, I’d really love to hear what you think of it when you’re done.’

She smiles then, that happy, satisfied smile that comes from that other world she lives in, where you spend a night listening to Mozart and Beethoven, where you talk about culture and revolutions over dinner, where every minute of every day is spent improving yourself, seeing more, hearing more, reading more, filling yourself up with more and more, but she never seems to get enough of it, or get bored. It’s as if the more she finds the more she wants. She’s got another new book in her bag, some Argentinian I basically should read asap, it sounds like something Hayworth would put on people. And there’s these guys from France with an awesome new track she wants me to check out. She’s always got something new, every damn time she’s found something everybody already knows about and I’ve never even heard of. It doesn’t bother her though, not knowing. She doesn’t mind finding out, I think she enjoys it, figuring out what’s out there, even though it’s fuckin’ endless. And it’s not like she got bored with what we’ve got, but more like our stuff makes her think of something else she needs to figure out. I wish I could do that, y’know, not get bothered and just take up everything like that, just soak it up like she does and deal with it.

She takes out her second hotdog, unwraps the foil, takes in the smell, sighs and smiles, ‘God, these are the best.’ She takes a bite and closes her eyes, chewing. I always liked how she just enjoyed her food. She was never picky about what she could eat, date nights were seriously easy with her.

‘So you and Tanya?’ she starts.
‘Tanisha.’

She nods and takes another bite of her hotdog. She’s changed her hair. Her braids reach to her back now, all black. They’re so tiny the few that came out whip around her head in the wind. Her skin’s still as smooth as ever. I’ve never met a girl with her kind of skin. It’s flawless, like those toffees poured out smooth.

‘You still see her?’ she asks. I don’t know what to say. I haven’t seen Nisha in a while. I told Aly to stop giving her my key. Word has it Nisha’s livid but she hasn’t come to shout, at least not yet. I’ve been busy anyway, finals kept me locked up in the library most days.pen Now that’s over and I’m pretty sure I got everything covered. It wasn’t easy, they really take it out on you, like, drain your brain with those questions, but I answered all of them like in the mocks and I aced almost all of those, so yeah. And Hayworth keeps on nodding and smiling when he sees me, so I should be ok.

‘So you’re not?’ she asks again.
‘I don’t know.’

She chuckles a little and wipes a small smudge of mustard from the corner of her mouth with her ring finger, she still does that. Her nails are short, manicured, she’s not wearing rings. The studs in her ears might be real diamonds and she smells just like she used to.

‘Are you seeing anyone?’

She nods her head in a yes-and-no.

‘I’ve been pretty busy, but there’s this guy who’s quite nice. We go out for drinks and stuff, but it isn’t really serious.’
‘Do you…’

She looks at me and smiles before she takes a sip from her coke. I don’t know what that smile means. I never did really.

She doesn’t say more and I watch the sea. The waves are blue, green, grey, black and yellow and white. They’re all colors actually. The air’s that real, deep ocean smell that’s all fresh and stays in your head for days.waves 2 I take out the last of my three and we both eat silently for a while. We could always do that, just sit together and not talk without anything getting awkward. Celine can talk like a book, yeah, but she can be real quiet too. And warm, all curled up, her skin so fucking smooth under the sheets, but there’s no point remembering that anymore. When she’s done with hers, she leans into me and drinks from her coke. Her head’s warm under my chin and the wind died down a little. She still smells like she used to. Just like home.

© 2014 threegoodwords

history

lights 5

Dana is crying and Christie is trying to calm her down. They were on their break, smoking a cigarette in front of the diner. The group of girls turned up like a hard cut, suddenly they were there, looking like so much trouble Dana had no time to adjust. Many things were said, but the one sentence Dana remembered was, ‘I see your sleazy ass one more time and I’ll fuckin’ cut you, bitch, I’ll fuckin’ cut you!’ said so close Dana could feel her breath on her skin.

It had taken all of Christie’s hard-nosed cool and the general crowd on the street to keep the woman from making it worse for Dana. She fled into the kitchen after the rest of the group dragged the screaming woman away. Dana refused to come out for five minutes. She had never been called ‘slut’, ‘whore’ and ‘white trash’ in the middle of the street. Now it had happened. Kelsey had warned her the city could get rough, Kelsey, her best friend back home.

‘Be careful, ok? They do things real different over there. Like real different. You’ve gotta toughen up some. You’ve gotta stop bein’ so nice all the time.’

Hearing it was one thing. Actually living through it…. Dana’s hands are shaking, she can barely hold the coffee someone gave her. Christie keeps on looking at her like that. Dean who manages the grill just came out to check on her. Jenny the manager asks her for the third time if she’s all right. Dana nods, holding back the tears. Jenny doesn’t believe her, but she doesn’t say anything either. She turns and tells everyone else, ‘All right, all right, show’s over, get back to work.’ Christie won’t let Dana bus tables for another five minutes, Dana doesn’t mind. She spends her five extra minutes breathing consciously like the councilor said. She makes a conscious effort to center herself. It doesn’t change the fact that she recognized the violence in that woman’s eyes. And with recognition memories kicked down doors Dana thought she’d locked firmly shut. At least now she knows how to shut and lock them again.

*

Jenny lets Dana go home early. ‘You don’t look good, honey. Go home, have some rest. See you tomorrow, ok?’ Dana nods, ‘Ok.’ Christie’s allowed to take her home, Dana saw her talk to Jenny seriously. In Dana’s apartment, Christie makes hot chocolate and cooks up some pancakes, while Dana sits huddled on her couch, staring out of the window. Her hands still tremble a little but she can hold her cup steady again. Now, safe within her own four walls, Dana realizes that she should have expected something like that to happen. She’d never seen such venom spewed so openly though, right out there in the street. The last person who shouted at her like that was Bobby, and that was in her flat.

Bobby.

Dana drinks from her hot chocolate, it’s smooth and sweet, filling her with warmth and comfort. Yes, Bobby. Bobby who she trusted like a kid, a child barely walking. Bobby who got drunk a little too often, but she didn’t notice until much later, about a year after they got together. Bobby who after that one drink too many suddenly turned into someone who threw things and hit her.

The first time was such a shock Dana stayed, she couldn’t believe it happened. It had to be a mistake. And he was very drunk. He’d been out with his boys again and Dana got angry. They started arguing, shouting, and then it happened. She couldn’t believe it, so she stayed. It had to be a mistake.

And then it happened again. Dana was so horrified, she packed her bags, took the car and drove the sixty minutes to her Mom. Bobby came looking for her the very next day. He brought her this huge bouquet of roses, the really good ones from Paradise Road next to the French café. He went down on his knees in the middle of her Mom’s tiny living room and said he was so sorry, so sorry, she didn’t know how much. He swore he would stop with the drink. He swore it would never happen again.

Her Mom was watching, her Mom who thought Bobby was ‘such a fine young man. And from such a good family, too,’ as if that made it really worth it and Dana should stick it through. So Dana said, ‘Ok.’ Deep down she didn’t trust it, she knew that now, but back then she didn’t believe what was happening. This was Bobby. He was always so sweet to her. They’d been to Hawaii together, ten days on Maui in a beautiful bungalow he rented. It was her birthday present, Bobby paid the whole thing. His family had the money, his Dad had a company that sold parts to Ford or Chrysler or maybe GM, one of the really big international ones. And his parents really liked her.

They always had Sunday brunch with them, they had this beautiful house down Lanagan Street where all the houses had pillars and beautiful terraces with couches and plants. No. 251 even had a couch swing. They always had Sunday brunch in Lanagan Street and Dana was always invited to the parties, or ‘do’s as his mother called them. They always teased her that she was going to be the next Mrs. Hillard. And they really loved Bobby, Dana always felt he could tell them everything.

That was the Bobby she knew. Bobby who was Mr. and Mrs. Hillard’s genuinely charming son. He was deferring Harvard (Harvard!) to help his Dad in the company, his Dad was still recovering from a bad heart attack. Bobby had friends and buddies everywhere, he was always getting invited to places. Everybody liked him, there was no one Dana knew who didn’t like him. He made people laugh. That was the Bobby she knew. He really just had to stop with the drink. So she went back and it went well for a long time, at least six months. Dana started thinking maybe she was being too tough on him, he really was trying. Maybe it really was just the drink, he hardly touched it anymore. And it was ok if a guy was a little jealous, wasn’t it? It showed that he really was into you, even her Mom said so, especially with such a guy like Bobby. ‘He could have anybody and he chose you.’ Even Kelsey agreed.

So Dana stayed, longer than she should have. She stayed until the last time, a Saturday night where she came back to her place from going out with Kelsey and her wild friends. Bobby had moved back in with his parents after his Dad’s bad heart attack, he wanted to spend as much time as possible with his old man, so Dana still had her own place. They did keep on talking about moving in together. Bobby really wanted to, Dana just didn’t want to live with his parents. They’d been looking at places close-by that time. Bobby was at her place that night, waiting at the door, smoking his cigarette on the steps. He was very angry. Apparently he’d seen her with someone, it didn’t matter that they were a whole group. That’s how it started, that Saturday night when she went out with Kelsey and her friends who weren’t exactly normal but really nice.

*

Dana held her cup tighter, pulled her legs closer. She had started to tell herself that it might have gotten much worse if she hadn’t screamed her lungs out, bringing the neighbors down the stairs and into the flat. It might have been much worse. All she had was a cracked rib and a bad concussion. It could’ve been worse. She’d heard about worse in her group. At least she had the sense to scream for help. That’s how she saw it now.

It was a warm summer night so everybody had their windows open. That’s probably why the neighbors heard. They were two, the community college guy Mark and his car mechanic friend he always had over, Stu. Stu had fixed Dana’s car for a decent price when it decided to break down again. It was Mark and Stu that night. They ran down and dragged Bobby off her and that’s when the fight started, but Mark was quick and Stu was strong. Stu kept Bobby pinned down while Mark called 911. Dana was in a corner, clutching her knees, immobile.

The police made her file a restraining order. Officer Sanchez was a woman and she didn’t ‘give a fuck if it’s the Hillards.’ She said that straight at Officer Kirkland who Dana had seen at Mrs. Hillard’s parties a few times. He always seemed to be have a really good time. Officer Sanchez didn’t care, she was furious. She’d reached Dana first, saw her face and shouted, ‘Kirkland! Look at this!’ Dana wanted to hide herself but Officer Kirkland was already there and saw everything. Dana still couldn’t forget the look on his face. Right then, she felt like something so broken, she knew she couldn’t be repaired again.

Dana didn’t want to sign the restraining order though. She didn’t want to make it worse. Officer Sanchez didn’t like that. They argued, Dana tried to explain. There’d just be trouble for her Mom who worked in one of the Hillard’s downtown offices. Her Mom was too old to find a new job if they fired her, people didn’t need secretaries that much anymore. Officer Sanchez said she’d make sure that didn’t happen. If they fired Dana’s mother, what happened to Dana would be in the paper’s next, Officer Sanchez would make sure it was front page news. Officer Sanchez looked like someone who could pull that off.

Dana still didn’t want to make the Hillards angry. Mr. and Mrs. Hillard had always been very nice to her, kind even. If she put out a restraining order on their son, that’d be the end of it, they’d never speak to her again, and if the Hillards stopped speaking to you, basically everyone else did. Just thinking of the whispering that would happen was bad enough. Officer Sanchez slammed her hand on the table, stared straight at Dana and said real calm, ‘You sign that damn paper, girl, otherwise next time he’ll be after you with an axe and there ain’t no stoppin’ that with your hands. You wanna live? In peace? Put your fuckin’ name on it.’ Her exact words. Officer Sanchez looked like she knew what she was talking about. She’d been with Dana through everything from the hospital to the questions at the station. She’d been there, through all of it, and made sure Dana knew exactly what was happening. If Dana had questions, Officer Sanchez answered them. She didn’t care how often Officer Kirkland asked her to ‘tone it down’ or ‘be careful’. Officer Sanchez wasn’t out to mess up her life, rather the opposite. So Dana signed the order.

*

She left after that, moved far away, deep into this city where she was just another face and another name, Dana, calling her Mom regularly to check if she still had her job. She still did, but life had really changed. She had to go shopping in Newton West now because shopping at home was no longer possible, people stared and whispered too much. A lot of people stopped talking to her, but Rachel and Melanie were still her friends, so it was ok, her Mom wasn’t all alone. And Kelsey did drop by every now and then to say hi, sending Dana texts right after like She’s doing good with a thumbs-up. And now, three years later, someone else screamed at her like that again, with eyes promising far worse to come.

Dana feels nauseous for a moment, but forces herself to stay calm. She tells herself she should have known, she did see them together. She should never have agreed to join him anywhere. She promises herself to never see or speak to him again, and takes another sip from the hot chocolate. Christie really knows how to make it. And the air smells wonderfully of fresh pancakes. She’s all alone here, yes, everything is still very strange and different, but there’s Christie who’s a real friend. The door bell rings, sharp, making both Dana and Christie jump. Christie presses the buzzer and opens the door without checking. Next, Samantha comes bolting up the stairs, shouting ‘Sorry I’m late!’ Dana sits up, surprised, Christie must have called her. Sam runs in right then, all anxious, ‘Dana! Sweetie! Are you ok?!’ Dana feels relief and joy bloom bright in her body. Yes, she has friends here, real friends, and for that she is very grateful.

 © 2014 threegoodwords

boy meets girl

Not PG rated

bar lightsIt’s one of Nisha’s girls’ birthday today. She’ll probably come home sometime round six, but that’s okay. I can go out with my boys for a change, haven’t seen them since… dunno. The usual night out, a bar and then a club, nothing big. Jermaine and Vaughn know what a guy needs when his girl’s out, and so far they’re head on. The place is packed, the girls are hot and the drinks aren’t just water, so it’s all good. Wait, I know her. She looks like that waitress from the diner.

‘Yo, Car, one more?’

That’s Vaughn. I keep it short, ‘Gotta check on something.’  Jermaine’s one big grin. Yeah, it’s her all right.

‘Hi.’
‘Hi!’

That smile. It’s got something. She looks good done up like that. ‘You look nice.’ She smiles. Really nice. The music’s right, yeah, why not. Nice skin, not too much make up. Yeah, that looks good. She can move, too. Nice. The boys won’t stop hollerin’, but it’s all good. Yeah, that’s good. Sweet.

*

So this is her place. No man round with all that pink. Not bad. Let’s see what she does. A bit nervous, but that’s normal, they always get like that once it’s quiet, unless you prefer the ones who’ve been around, but you never know with them. Shit gets crazy sometimes, and I don’t need that right now. She’s cute though. Nice hair, real dark and all curly. Okay, lemme get comfortable. Good mattress. I pull her close, slow, she’s still staring. She’s got huge eyes. Really nice legs. She hasn’t done this often, even better. She smells good – yeah, that’s good. No bra. Perfect. Her tits are warm and heavy, the kind Nisha would love to have. She’s what d’they call it – yeah, responsive, that’s good. Seriously good bed. Nice panties. Look at her blush. She tries to explain, but hey, nobody’s perfect, and it’s not like I want them on her anyway. Trimmed, even better. I like a woman who takes care of herself without going all Hub on you. Let’s get this off her, good. Now the shirt – yeah, I worked hard for these. Her fingers are cool, she’s really loving it. Where’s that – there. Yeah, she’s ready, still tastes like that last cocktail. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll do it.’ A bit excited. She really hasn’t done this often. Let’s hope she’s okay with it. Okay, she’s getting nervous. ‘Hey. Hey. Amanda. Look at me.’ She doesn’t immediately, but she looks up again. I smile to keep her eyes on me and she doesn’t look away. She opens her mouth a little. I kiss her and go all the way. She’s holding her breath. ‘Ok?’ I ask. Say yes, coz damn girl you’re perfect. She nods, her eyes still closed. I pull back and she breathes out again. Yeah…

That was sweet. Lucky she didn’t ask for my digits. She’s got a deep sleep though, shouldn’t let too many strangers come to her house. But that was good, she probably hasn’t had too many. Nice. Now, let’s see, five o’clock. Nisha’s probably still out. No need to rush. Man, I’m hungry. Next time I’m in that diner, I’ll ask her out for a coffee or something. She’d be one for coffee. Dinner and a movie. Some serious winin’ and dinin’. It’d be good with her. Probably was her first time though, takin’ a complete stranger home. Well, sort o’ complete stranger. Real nice body. All tight and hot inside, sucks you right in. Nice tits, ass ain’t too flat, comes nicely, not too loud either, just the right thing for a Saturday night. I really gotta get something to eat, man, I’m dyin’.

* * *

It’s hard to say if he’s awake or not but she’s sitting there watching him. He can feel her hand around his, her fingers cool and long, warming up in the small cavity. There are no shadows in the room and by the light it must be morning, close to noon. A door opens and the nurse walks in, they talk a little, she checks the machines and leaves again. He can see it all and hear it all but it is very far away. All he knows is her hand holding his, her fingers warming on his skin.

They are talking softly, he hears her whisper into his ear, telling him a story he can’t remember but makes a smile grow in his head. She is close now, closer than when she first came, lying next to him, one hand under her head, her other still holding his. The nurse comes in but doesn’t say anything. She does her routine and tells her if she wants to eat, she will have to go to the cafeteria. She nods and says thank you but he holds her hand tighter. She can’t leave. The shadows are too long in the corners, and even Hunter can’t scare them away in his noiseless sleep.

Midnight, and darkness is a bright light on the street outside. The bed is empty, he has lost his body and is searching for his limbs. They are hidden in the streetlight and he sits up to find them again. She’s in the room, sleeping soundly on a makeshift bed next to the window. Carefully he unpins himself from the machines. The tiles are like ice under his feet but he crosses the river easily. Under her covers the sun is warm and bright. He can taste her scent, he can feel the heat her body is hiding under her skin. She stirs slowly and finally turns around to him, her face all shadows, her shape clear to his inner sight. He feels her hand on his skin, the fist under his chest is pounding again, hitting hard against the walls of his body. He hesitates to touch her lips but he finds them soft and waiting and pulls her close, into him, but she knows better and slips a hand past his waist where it lies waiting, waiting. Her fingers are gentle, stroking muscle and skin, applying pressure in places he had forgotten existed. Under her breath she starts to speak, softly, the fall of her voice familiar like breathing seeping into his head like warmth filling it with something lost and forgotten her hand moving warm soft fitting the rush of blood to his head drains and congeals to something hard and hot that disintegrates like a sharp sound of glass breaking in the sun.

Morning finds him alone with Hunter, the other bed empty except for the sunlight spilling over it as if wasted. He has no memory of what happened after the breaking. All he knows is that his body is hungry and he has to leave this place, return to the city and find that space where they can talk again.

* * *

The door opens. Dana looks up and is disappointed again. Christie has told her to stop hoping, ‘He won’t come darlin’, they never do when you want them to.’ But Dana can’t help it. It’s been three months since they met so randomly in that club, where he saw her and walked up to her, where they danced and he paid a few drinks, where they kissed and she let him take her home. She hadn’t thought about it, it just happened, just like leaves fall off a tree.

Dana tries to concentrate on the new order, but memory is a tricky thing. Sometimes it’s very accurate, and while she leans over the counter to place the next order, she remembers how he held her hips and kissed the corner between her neck and ear, right there, that small hollow.

The door opens again and Dana looks at the newcomer, but it’s never him. He left early in the morning while she was still asleep, and Christie said she should be grateful she got him at all, he wasn’t the kind you could just get that easily. Samantha said, ‘Enjoy it, sweetie. They’re not always as good as this.’ coffee 10

The woman on the other side of the counter asks for the steak menu and Dana smiles and writes down the order. She asks if the woman wants an aside, but she shakes her head and Dana passes her order after pouring out some coffee. At this time of the day, the first cup’s for free.

*

‘Amanda,’ someone says. Dana turns around. Her whole body smiles. He’s leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette, wearing one of those big black jackets, it fits him very well. It’s still very cold outside and his scull cap looks spotless white on his skin. ‘Hi,’ he says and Dana says ‘Hi,’ back. ‘How’d you know I’d come out now?’ ‘It’s nine o’clock,’ is all he says, and she remembers that she told him about her work and her real name and where she was born. That was why he called her Amanda. That was her real name, except she never used it, not here, not anymore. ‘You hungry?’ he asks and Dana nods though she’s not. He suggests going somewhere, and they end up in another diner, far nicer, in another part of town. He asks her about her day, they talk about movies and music. It’s as if he’d never seen her naked. Dana doesn’t know what she is, happy to see him or disappointed at his obvious cool. Yet she doesn’t mention it and smiles when the waitress walks up to their table. She orders a pizza and so does he, she drinks a soda and he takes a coke as well. She wants to ask him why he’s here but instead she asks if he finished reading his books. He smiles and says he’s been a bit busy lately. His eyes are serious when he says that, but Dana doesn’t ask on.

At her door, Dana feels fidgety and can barely get the key into the lock. She opens it, and steps in, but he doesn’t follow. He stays in the doorway and says, ‘I’ve gotta go.’ Dana doesn’t know what to say. She watches him walk down the stairs, but just before he’s gone he turns around and asks, ‘Are you busy tomorrow?’ Dana shakes her head, on Saturdays she only works till four. ‘There’s this thing at a friend’s place. Wanna come?’ Dana’s surprise makes her smile, ‘Yeah, why not.’ ‘Pick you up at six?’ Dana nods, he smiles and next moment he’s out of sight.

*

Nisha and I had a fight. It started with Aly finding out what J. did up in that cabin, so of course I went with her. He looks awful, man. It must be those pills they’re giving him. Aly wouldn’t leave his room, always held his hand, wouldn’t budge unless I forced her to get some dinner. She even took off work and stayed the week till he was stable again, they say he lost a lot of blood. It got me thinking. Nisha’s fine and all, but if a brother threw a loop, I don’t know if she’d stick around for long. Anyway, it got me thinking and I started asking some questions. Nisha said they were stupid questions, but it’s not like I don’t have to think about what’s coming next. I didn’t start college for nothin’. And after seeing J. and Aly I started wonderin’ if Nisha would come along with me. All she said was ‘Hon, you really think you’ll make it? Talk all superior and kiss their asses – you think that’ll make ‘em forget who you are?’ I got angry. I mean, Aly made it, she was clever and stuck to school and got through. She met J. for God’s sake but Nisha says that don’t count. ‘J.’s nuts, everyone knows that, Aly’s just lucky he’s so into her.’ We started shouting and then I left the house. Sometimes I can’t live with that woman.

Anyway, I’m at Jermaine’s now, got my stuff from Nisha before she starts burning it all, she’s done it before. I’ll be in my own place next week, Aly’s moved in with J. who’s back in town. He can’t be on his own, and he’s got enough to keep her going fine, so it’s all good. I haven’t seen Nisha for a while though. Vaughn says she’s fucking that guy from the studio, at least they’ve been out together a couple o’ times. It’s okay. We need some space. I need to think a bit and it’s nice having a place on your own, Jermaine’s basically never home.

© 2014 threegoodwords

fireflies

lights‘There you are.’

He turned, surprised. So he was smoking, she’d already wondered about the wisps rising.

‘Mind if I took a draw?

His surprise deepened. Then he smiled and handed her the stub. Marla took a draw and sighed. Sometimes you just needed that. Especially after that crowd still celebrating inside. And that was his family. She didn’t fully understand how they were connected and not connected. He never called Fred or Joan Mum or Dad. Fred was all right, but Joan. Wow.

Marla handed the cigarette back to Caden, who took it and said what she expected,

‘I didn’t know you smoked.’
‘Just a bit,’ Marla shrugged. ‘You?’
‘Hardly. Only when I’m here really.’
‘Here?’ Marla asked, looking around. It was beautiful here.
‘Well, not here,’ Caden said and Marla understood.

Yes, one would need a time-out after spending time with Joan. And that Penelope who decided Marla was her best friend for some reason. She wanted to know everything about her, chatting away as if they’d known each other for years. Marla was wary. She had met enough of Heather’s friends.

*

They stood facing the wide, lush garden. Someone had lit the candle lamps, it looked enchanted. All that was missing were fireflies.

‘I hope it wasn’t too bad,’ Caden said.
‘Oh, no it’s been fun.’
‘Really.’

She looked. His smile was ironic, disbelieving.

‘I’ve been around people like this before. I mean – I’m sorry, they’re your family -’
‘No, it’s all right.’
‘It’s just – Heather, my roommate in New York. All her friends were like this, so. I’m used to it.’

Caden nodded, crushed the stub into an ashtray she hadn’t seen, it stood next to him on the stone balustrade. So Steff even thought about the ashtrays. Steff was the kind who probably thought about everything, from the bricks in the chimney to the tiles on the floor.

‘So, you and the groom went to uni together?’

Caden nodded, picking up a tumbler, smooth round Waterford crystal a quarter full with something golden.

‘Where to?’
‘King’s.’
‘Really?’

Marla hadn’t wanted to sound so surprised. She blushed and said, ‘That must have been something.’

‘It was ok.’ He didn’t sound particularly enthusiastic.
‘So it was you, the groom and Angus?’
‘And a few others, yeah.’
‘Like Davis?’

A tall man, dark like chocolate, he really was, she didn’t care how that sounded. Calm and amused in his three piece suit, speaking easily to his wife who seemed to know everybody present. Davis so far was the one person who could silence Angus just by looking at him.

lights 3‘Yeah,’ Caden smiled a genuine smile now. Marla tried not to look too closely. He looked very good in his suit. Marla couldn’t help herself and looked again. In a hidden corner deep inside, something sighed. Marla looked away quickly, blushing. Thank God Theresa wasn’t there to see that. There’d have been no end to the teasing otherwise. Though Theresa expected – expected – something worth telling once Marla was back. Marla already dreaded going back home again. Really, what was she supposed to say? His mother’s mad, his sister no less, his brother’s a bit of an ass, but he looks great in a suit? There wasn’t much of a story in that. Theresa, Marla knew, would be disappointed. And blame Marla for it, Marla who apparently was getting very boring of late. She could already hear Theresa huff, ‘What’s the point in you going out if you don’t do anything with it, sweetheart? And he’s so fucking gorgeous. Really, Marla, don’t you have any eyes in your head?’

Oh, she had eyes all right. She had eyes aplenty. But seeing was one thing. Acting like a complete and utter idiot something very different. She had seen what he went for. A Marla C. Brandon was definitely not that type. There was no need to embarrass herself, though knowing Theresa that was exactly what she wanted. Stories, stories and more stories. Theresa had always been one to kiss madly and then tell, tell, tell. Marla couldn’t though. Not here. Not now. And in this particular case: not ever.

© 2014 threegoodwords

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