By a Thread (20 page)

She was riding the Metro to her stop when she got a call from a number she didn’t recognize; she knew it wasn’t George though. It was a (202), not a (703) area code.

“Hello?”

“Stella?”

“This is she,” she couldn’t quite place the voice. “Who is this?”

“It’s Sam.”

“Umm,” she didn’t know any Sam. “Okay.”

“Sam Erickson, do you have a minute?”

“Sure,” she said her voice a little unsure. She was on the part of the train that didn’t have any tunnels for awhile. “I’m on the Metro though, so if I lose you I’ll call you back later.”

“Oh, I’ll be quick then. How about the Fish Market Friday?”

She assessed his request, it was Thursday. She didn’t want him to know she didn’t really have any plans. “I can’t tomorrow, Sam. What about Sunday?”

“Okay, I’ll meet you there at 7:00.”

“Okay. Should I eat beforehand?” she smiled.

“No,” he laughed. “I plan on feeding you.”

“See you then.” She hung up and leaned her head back against the seat. Just one dinner, that was it.

She was having a hard time deciding what to wear on her date with Sam. He was older, an established attorney in the Department of Justice; she did not need to appear slutty. She was wearing a black strapless top, jeans and a gray cardigan with black high-heeled boots.

“What do you think?” she asked, twirling around for her two male roommates.

“I’d do you,” Billy called.

“Me too,” Patrick agreed.

“I mean, is it too tight, too juvenile? What?”

“You look fine, El. You don’t even like this guy do you?” Patrick paused the video game.

“You’re right, why do I even care?” She grabbed her purse and keys and headed out the door.

“I expect to see you in less than two hours, missy,” Billy laughed as she shut the door.

When she finally found a parking spot it was a couple of blocks away from the restaurant. She turned the corner and saw Sam was waiting for her outside the restaurant. “Hey,” she waved, walking toward him.

He was wearing a cornflower-blue sweater that showed off his blue eyes in contrast to his fair skin and hair. He turned and smiled in her direction, said something into his phone, and put it back in his pocket.

“Hi, yourself. You look great.”

“Thanks,” she said, “you don’t look half bad out of a suit.” She blushed. “I mean in casual clothes.”

He put his arm out, letting her go first into the restaurant, then followed her in to the portion of the restaurant with the bar. It was a friendly, loud restaurant with great seafood.

They ordered and started talking casually about work. She listened to his journey that ended with his current position at DOJ. He’d moved up the ranks quickly.

“Can I ask a question?” She leaned toward him over their dinner, she had already had two big beers. “How old are you?”

“I’m thirty-six. How about you?” He leaned in closer, too.

“Twenty-six,” she answered. “Do you like yours?” She pointed at his plate of fried seafood.

“It’s what I always get. I’m weird like that, I get hooked on one thing and that’s it for me.”

She laughed, “Me too. I’ve been eating the seafood bake for four years.”

“Four years?” He cocked his head to the side, “I thought this was your third year of law school.”

She almost choked. “It is.”

“You were here a year before you started school. What did you do before?”

“I worked at a restaurant up the street,” she answered vaguely.

“Why did you decide to take a year off between undergrad and law school?” He asked innocently, popping a fry in his mouth. She had answered all these questions before and usually just made up an answer.

She sighed, “My fiancé died a few weeks before I was supposed to start law school and I deferred for a year.” Stella was proud she had said it, without tears.

“Fuck, sorry.” Sam looked down at his food.

“Thanks. Shit happens, right?” She took another bite of her fish and smiled weakly.

As they were leaving the restaurant, Sam put his hand on her lower back to lead her out. She’d decided she was just going to leave her car and walk home, she’d one too many big beers too drive.

“Okay, well, I’m going head home. Thank you so much for dinner. I enjoyed it.” She actually meant it, it was a pleasant dinner.

“Why don’t we stop in Finnegan’s and have one more before we head home,” he said.

“Why not, it’s on my way home.” She knew Sundays were the only day that George took off from the bar, so she felt safe going there.

Sam opened the door for her and guided her in by the small of her back. Stella shrank into herself as she glanced over to the bar and saw George.
Why was he there,
she thought. He always had Sundays off. She followed Sam over to the table he usually occupied with his friends.
SHIT,
she thought
. What I am going to do?

Once they made it to the table she excused herself and made it to the bathroom. Rushing into the stall, she pulled out her phone. “Patrick, can you come pick me up in about ten minutes right in front of Fish Market?”

He responded and she could tell she was interrupting something and he sounded really annoyed.

“Okay, just listen. I drank too much at dinner then we walked over to Finnegan’s... oh never mind, I’ll walk home.” She heard someone come in the bathroom, she whispered in the phone, “He’s never here on Sundays. I didn’t know he would be here.” She hung up the phone and pushed open to the stall door to see Hazel leaning against the wall. “Shit,” she murmured under her breath. Putting a smile on her face she said, “Hey, Hazel.”

“You’re really something, you know.” Hazel frowned at her. “You come into his bar and you’re hurt to see him.” Hazel almost hissed at her.

“Hazel, I didn’t think he would be here. This is none of your business. It’s between us or actually, there’s nothing between us. “ She lowered her head and shook it as she tried to push past Hazel. Hazel wouldn’t let her by.

“Stella. Do not come back here again.”

“You got it,” Stella finally made her way around Hazel and pushed the door open. Looking toward where Sam was sitting, she froze as she saw George leaving the table.

Pasting a fake smile on her face she made way to Sam. She sat down and took a long pull of her Snakebite. She felt better, this had been a mistake. She was leaving.

“Hey, you okay?” Sam reached over and pushed her bangs out of her eyes.

“Oh, sure. What was George doing over here?” Stella recoiled from his casual touch.

Sam looked around and said, “George?” Then a smile broke out on his face. “Shit, Stella, George... that’s the name he gives all the girls he wants to get in their panties.” The last word died on his lips. “You’ve known him for a while though, you still call him George?”

“Yep, that’s not his real name?” She stared at her drink, rage filling her up inside.

“Well, he must have given you that name years ago. He has been in love with this chick for awhile, broke his heart recently though.” Sam took a drink of his beer.

“I had no idea,” she whispered and took a look to the bar to see George staring at her with murder in his eyes. She was confused. Stella twisted the diamond earring in her right ear.

“You know he owns this place, right?”

“No, I don’t really know him at all.” She saw movement out of the corner of her eye and all the stress released. “Listen, my roommates threatened to come find me if I wasn’t home in two hours and I guess they made good on that threat. They’re by the bar.”

“Where?”

She pointed, “The two dudes by the bar. Patrick and Billy, my best friends.” She stood up draining the last of her drink, “Thanks so much dinner and drinks. I’ve enjoyed your company.”

He stood up and met her gaze, “I hope we can do it again Stella.”

“Call me,” she said and turned to leave. “Thanks again.”

“No problem.” Sam followed her toward the door, but then took a seat at the bar for another drink.

When she reached Patrick she realized he was staring at George, or whatever the fuck his name was, in a way that scared her. He put his arm around her shoulders and led her out. Billy walked out backwards, giving Sam the evil eye.

Once she settled into the backseat of Patrick’s car she let loose. “Am I a huge dumbass or what? First, I fuck someone for nine months and didn’t even know his real name or that he owned the bar that I drank at for over three years. Then come to find out that he was in love with someone else the entire time anyway. HOLY SHIT, what a mess.”

“Well you have totally fucked up our watering hole,” Billy said. “Next time we find a bar, no fucking the help.”

Stella was sitting where she and George had sat over six months ago. She felt comfortable with the sculpture of the giant trying to get out of the ground. She spread her books out and was reading for International Law and Policy class. They had to write a paper as their entire grade and she was trying to determine what she was to write about. Closing her book, she laid back and stared up at the cloudless sky. Attempting to talk herself into feeling numb, she was tired of this newfound pain in her chest that George’s absence created. She kept her head down and was thankful for work and school keeping her so busy. After Jamie died she had welcomed the numbness into her world, it had kept her moving forward even though she really didn’t enjoy anything. It cut her off from all her old friends and even her parents. The numbness was stubbornly staying away this time. George had punched a huge gaping hole in her wall and all the numbness was gone, now she was all feelings. It was really annoying and puzzling. He continued to text, call her, and leave messages, which just messed with her head. Sometimes she responded, but mostly she didn’t. She was still so puzzled by the earrings he gave her, she had sent him an actual letter thanking him. She wore the earrings every day. When she thought of him, she twisted the earrings in her ear.

She dreamed of him every night and thought of him at least thirty times a day. Patrick and Millie were disgustingly cute together and she wanted to vomit on a regular basis. She started reading fiction books again to occupy her mind when she wasn’t at work or school. She and Billy hung out more, watching late-night TV since Millie and Patrick were otherwise occupied. She was trying to figure out which bar exam to sit for, since she didn’t have a job yet. Every state had its own bar that governed whether an attorney can practice in the state. Because attorneys could waive into DC from any other state, she signed up for the Virginia bar. It would be hellish and she hoped she could pass it.

Davis just got a job in one of the biggest firms in the country. It was so unfair, he didn’t even want the job. He went to law school because he didn’t know what else to do. Millie had already gotten a job with the Department of Education. It would be a pretty interesting job, policies and legal compliance for school districts in the entire country. She would also be covering legislative affairs in Congress.

Stella was starting to have a pit in her stomach because everyone was getting these kick-ass jobs and she had nothing. She wished she could blink her eyes and have already passed the bar, but she had a couple of months until graduation. The stress of not having a job was starting to outweigh her emotions of losing George, so she guessed that was something.

She parallel parked and walked to the other side of her car, opening the passenger side to let Cooper out. It was the middle of the week so the festival wouldn’t be as busy, but she walked with Cooper over to the Tidal Basin and sat on the bench staring out into the water. The cherry blossom trees framed the entire area with their pink and white petals. She closed her eyes and Cooper put his head on her knee, nudging her hand to pet him. This time last year she and George were having a picnic. He’d read to her while she ate and drank, it was perfect. She’d fucked everything up, like she done continuously in the last couple of years.

A petal floated across her gaze and landed on Cooper, she brushed it off and held it between her fingers. Stella let herself simmer in self-pity for a few more minutes. Then she stood, shook it all off, and started her run to the Capitol. She was going to run the stairs a couple of times too.

Timing her steps up and down the stairs of the Capitol to the Foo Fighters, she finished her third set of stairs in record time. Sweat dripped off every part of her body. She sat on the bottom stair and opened her water. When Cooper sat next to her, his head was even with hers. Taking a sip of water, she poured some for Cooper too. Cooper was the longest constant in her life; he was her best friend. He knew everything about her and loved her anyway. His love never wavered, it didn’t matter if they didn’t run or he didn’t get treats, every day when she came home it was like she was the best thing on Earth. It was glaring that she wasn’t the best thing on Earth, but all Cooper cared about was that she was there and he could sleep with her. George hadn’t cared if Cooper had slept on the bed between them. Jamie would’ve never allowed that.

“Come, Coop,” she said, walking toward her car.

She cringed inwardly as she realized it was becoming the season she hated in DC, tourist season. Once spring rolled around tourists were everywhere, they didn’t know how to ride the Metro, to stay to the right on escalators and clogged up the Mall area. She usually stayed out of this area after April.

She cursed when she saw the traffic leading out to the GW Parkway. It was going to take her forever to get home.

An hour and a half later she opened the door to their house. Billy and Patrick were sitting in the den eating dinner. “Yo,” she said throwing Cooper’s leash on the floor.

“Where’ve you been?” Billy asked scooping a spoonful of pasta into his mouth. “Patrick’s been worried.”

Stella looked from Billy to Patrick, “I fucking hate tourists. It took me and hour to go like five miles because of the Cherry Blossom Festival.”

“Why would you subject yourself to that?” Patrick asked.

“Just wanted to look at the blossoms.” Stella slumped on the couch. Cooper was splayed on the floor panting.

“Well...” Billy asked.

“What?”

“Were they worth the hour and a half drive?”

“No,” she answered.