Beyond the Pale Motel (14 page)

“Did you lose a necklace? It says
California
?”

“No, why?”

“I just found it in my couch.”

“Not mine. How are you doing, anyway? Are you okay?”

“Sure,” I said not too convincingly. “I haven't felt like going out much. But I miss you and Sky.”

“Do you want to take him to the gym this Sunday? Maybe have him overnight?”

“Do you have a date?”

“No, I broke up with the Vampire.” In all this time we still called him that, which had never boded well for him, I guess.

“Well then, don't you want Skylar with you?”

“Yes, but he keeps asking about you.”

“Why Body Farm? Doesn't he want to go to the park or something?”

“He wants to start weight training to help with baseball. His coach says—”

“Jarell?” My own voice saying his name startled me. Bree was the one taking Skylar to practice now. I assumed Jarell had hit on her.
Resentment
. But I knew that was wrong. It wasn't Bree's fault that men desired her. I'd had my chance with him.

“Yes, he suggested it. And I thought it would be good for both of you to see Scott on a Sunday. Especially when Bob's not around.”

I'd told her about the ass comment, which made her hate Big Bob more than she already did. But her membership was practically free and he let her bring Skylar, so she still went.

“And to work out?” I said.
She thinks I'm getting fat.

“Catt, stop, you're being impossible.”

I was. I was being impossible. All this had started because I'd slept with Cyan. Which was the fault of F-ing Rock Star. Who only messaged me because Bree told me to go online. Which I did because Dean didn't call me back. I only slept with him because Dash left me.
You could have decided not to marry a sex addict.

“I'm sorry. I'd love to take Sky,” I said. “Thank you for asking me.”

When he was born, I was the one who held him first. I never said it to Bree, but I didn't want to let go of him when I laid him on her belly. She had trouble nursing and I helped him latch onto her. I stayed in her room all night, holding him while she slept, waking her when he needed milk. The nurse came in the morning while Bree was in the restroom and saw me sitting there, staring down at him in my arms; he was translucent as an angel.

“Seems like you kind of like him, huh?” the nurse said, winking, mistaking me for the mom. “You think you're going to keep him?”

He was the one person I needed to see more than any other, the one person who made me remember why I was alive in the first place, why life mattered at all. I hadn't seen him enough. Yes, Bree'd had him more, but I was also afraid to expose him to what was going on inside of me.
Suck it up, Catt. Get it together.

*   *   *

The gym was quiet when Skylar and I got there on Sunday. Since it was Big Bob's day off, the whole place had a more relaxed feel. The music was softer and the air-conditioning wasn't blasting. Sky and I got on the treadmills side by side. When he was about six, he'd been watching cartoons and sped the machine up too fast. Scott was all the way across the room but somehow managed to catch him, practically in midair. That was how I'd met Scott. I'd told him he was a hero and he blushed. I mean, what grown men actually blush? Scott and Sky were friends from that day on, always talking sports and Harry Potter and Scott taught Skylar how to shake hands—“Firm, all the way from the shoulder”; Sky was very proud to have accomplished this, and I felt bad that no one else had taught him before. Soon Bree and I loved Scott, too.

He came over to Skylar and me, that Sunday in June, feet planted, wearing his usual nylon sweatpants.

“Nice to see you, Catt.” He sounded so formal and even his hug was a little stiff. Turning to Sky: “What's up, buddy?”

Skylar shrugged and did that thing where he tries not to smile and show all his teeth. Scott messed up his hair. “Go, Dodgers.” They high-fived.

“How are you?” I asked. “I'm sorry I haven't been in touch more.”

“No worries. How are you doing? Is your neck okay?” He squinted at me through his lenses. His face looked drawn, I realized, when I actually got my head out of my ass enough to notice.

“My neck's fine.” I should never have lied to him about a pinched nerve. Maybe he knew and that was why he seemed distant. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm just a little under the weather.”

“Still?”

“I'm going to the doctor tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah.”

I told him I would go with him if he wanted and that I would bring him some
tom kha gai,
Thai chicken coconut soup, that night.

“What's this with you and soup?” he said.

“When I was a kid and I got sick, I always wished my mom would make me soup. Or at least pick some up for me.”

He said, “You're the sweetest girl in the world, but I don't have much appetite and I've got some leftovers I'm going to eat tonight. And I'm okay to go to the doctor by myself. But maybe you can come by another day after work.”

I said okay, but to let me know if he changed his mind about the doctor. He helped Skylar with the weights. Only light ones, Scott insisted, even though Sky wanted to go heavier. Then Sky and I held each other's feet while we did crunches, but he was too ticklish and kept breaking into giggle fits. So we jumped on the trampolines side by side, trying to see who could go higher; he could of course. By the time we were done, I felt much better. While Skylar used the restroom, I hugged Scott and promised I'd see him soon.

He said, “Isn't your birthday coming up?” It was. “You should have a party.”

I frowned. “I think that will make it worse. I'd rather just ignore it and hope it goes away.”

“Well, I want to celebrate you.” Our eyes met. He had long lashes. I used to tease him that it looked like he wore mascara. “You know I just want you to be happy, right?”

“Of course,” I said. “Same here.”

“And also? Catt?”

I turned back around and he came closer and spoke in a softer voice as if he didn't want anyone else to hear. “I love having you train here because I get to see you. But maybe you want to check out a different gym?”

I knew what he was going to say.

“I know you're not a big fan of Bob's. I've been thinking about what you said. I was kind of preoccupied at the time. But I've been thinking and I think you were right; he doesn't have the best energy for you to be around. Or Skylar. Especially if I'm not here for some reason.”

“I told you that a while ago. What changed?”

Scott frowned and I saw the creases deepen in his face. He jammed his hands in his pockets and shifted his weight side to side. “His plastic surgery has gotten way, way out of hand?” Scott's laugh was weak. “I don't know, I just worry more lately.”

“I thought that was my job.” But I didn't worry enough, then. Not about the right things anyway. Still, I shivered as the cold air blasted my workout-soaked clothes. “What about you? Are you going to try to work somewhere else? Because I'll only bring Skylar on Sundays, but I'm not leaving you.”

Scott reached out and squeezed my shoulder. “You won't be,” he said.

On the way home Skylar was pensive, staring out the window of the backseat, and I asked him what was on his mind.

“Can we build a Greek temple for my figures tonight?” I'd bought him some Mount Olympus action figures a few weeks earlier. Whatever Sky got into, he did it full on—trains, LEGOs,
Adventure Time,
baseball, now Greek myths.

“Sure, I can get out your old blocks. Do you know the difference between Corinthian and Ionic and Doric columns?”

Of course he did. And the names of all the gods, demigods, and heroes. What a kid. If I ever doubted that the brutal world was also full of magic, he could single-handedly prove me wrong.

“Catt?”

“Yes, Sky?”

“I miss you.

“I miss you, too. I'm sorry I haven't been around as much. I was sad about Dash leaving and I've been dating some guys, but I haven't been choosing them very well, I guess.”

I could feel him thinking about it. “But you have people who love you.”

“Thank you, sweetie. You're right. I have great people in my life.”

“So the next person you go out with has to be like that and treat you really, really well.”

Was he thinking about Scott? As I smiled at Skylar in the rearview mirror and blew him a kiss over my shoulder, I realized that no one had said those words to me before. Not even my mom and dad. If anything, they had conveyed the opposite.

*   *   *

One summer my parents and I went to Greece to visit my father's relatives, the Georgiou family. Everyone stayed together in a big house on the island of Crete. During the day my cousins (whom I had never met before) and I hung out on the white-sand-and-clear-blue-water beaches, and at night we all ate dinner together and the parents drank ouzo until they passed out.

It should have been idyllic.

“Go, have fun,” my mother had said, practically pushing me out the door one night.

The air smelled like fruit and salt and I could hear the sea, not far away in the dark. I was wearing a white gauze shirt with crocheted butterflies around the neckline and cutoff shorts. My skin was peeling off in pieces from my shoulders and chest from the bad sunburn I'd gotten the first day there.

Where my mother wanted me to
go, have fun
was back to the beach for a bonfire party the cousins were having with some friends. I didn't want to go but I only stood watching as my mother continued to fuss with her blond Swedish hair, pinning it up on her head, pulling out some tendrils, letting it all down again. I wondered about the low-cut, coral-colored dress she was wearing, the toxic sweetness of her perfume. My dad had gone on an overnight trip to Athens with one of his brothers.

“What if someone tries to kiss me?” I finally managed to ask.

“It's the most natural thing in the world,” she answered. “Just let it happen.”

That wasn't what I meant.

The Greek boys were all dark and curly haired and they paid attention to me, unlike boys at home. It was flattering but also disturbing, and their black-liquid gazes made my stomach quease and my heart pound with fight-or-flight syndrome. Neither of which I did.

One boy—man? he must have been at least eighteen—I don't remember his name, but he resembled the statues of Greek gods I'd seen; his hair spiraled in tight curls and his nose looked as if it had been carved from marble. When I got to the beach, he was sitting by the bonfire, and he stood up and danced, danced, danced with me to the music that was playing, and then he took a gulp of ouzo and kissed me, pouring the licorice fire into my mouth.

I pushed him away and asked if he knew my cousins and he said sure and I was such a beauty and he kissed me again. Then he took my hand and we ran down to the water. It was warm and soft and gleaming, the combination of the waves and the alcohol and
his
beauty and my own low self-esteem made me fall apart in his arms. Next we were back on the sand, away from the party, and he was naked.

I wouldn't let him fuck me so instead he forced me to suck his cock, which I had no idea how to do. He pushed my head down and down again, making me gag, and when he came, I moved away just in time not to get a mouthful. When I stumbled back to my bedroom, I heard laughter from the room next door. I listened through the wall to my mom and my dad's brother-in-law fucking.

“Did you have fun last night?” my mom asked me in the morning.

Fun? My head and jaw ached. A beautiful man had called me beauty and held me in his arms.

Later, I would think, anything could have happened. He could have killed me and chopped me into pieces, eaten me, and no one would have known.

I turned away from her.

I was thirteen.

*   *   *

When I dropped Skylar off, I told Bree what Scott had said about a new gym.

“Why would he say that now?” she asked.

“I have no idea.”

Bree shivered. “I can't stand Bob. Maybe we should stop going there.” Then she added, “I thought someone was following me home from the gym the other night. But it's probably my imagination. I'm just on edge lately with everything that's been happening.”

I asked her if she wanted me to come inside, even sleep over (it wasn't entirely for her; I could have used more time with Sky and I was anxious not to be alone anyway), but she said no thanks. Something about the way she said it—a little too quickly maybe—made me wonder if she was having a guy over later, but I didn't stop to guess who it might be.

Also, I was more concerned about the idea that someone had possibly been following her. When I got home, I was shaken enough to look behind me a few times as I went up the stairs to my door. I checked all the closets, turned on the alarm, and left the lights on when I went to sleep, with Sasha lying on the bed facing the door like a pretty, petite watchdog.

*   *   *

Scott texted me the next morning:
Seeing you with Skylar at the gym reminded me of how I used to be with my mom. Like you have each other's heart in your hands. I love you. PS There's a special at SilverTone Gym.

“Each other's heart in your hands.” I knew that saying Sky and I reminded Scott of his mother and him was a big compliment. I sent him a heart emoji,
Don't worry
, and an
xoxo
. That's all.

Why hadn't I been able to fall in love with sweet, sweet Scott? Was it because no one had told me that I deserved someone who treated me “really, really well”? Was it because he wasn't a tall, tatted “artist”? I was an idiot, basically. And still, even at that late—just before too late—date, enough of one not to do anything about it.