Intoxicated (2 page)

I pressed the “end” key and tossed the phone
over to the passenger seat. Traffic was light for a Friday night,
and I made good time back to my complex. Sure enough, Eric’s BMW
was parked in my guest spot. His car seemed to smirk at my very
used Honda Accord.

The two certainly didn’t belong together.

Eric had been campaigning for quite some time
for me to get something new. However, I liked not being a slave to
a car payment as much as I enjoyed not being strapped for cash due
to high rent. So that explained why I was here, driving what I did.
Who cared about appearances? My bank account was the one
laughing.

Humming, I smiled to myself as I bounded up
the stairs, taking them two at a time. I could hardly contain
myself. Eric was here, in the flesh. I tried to remember the last
time we had been in the same time zone. Two weeks?

My front door was unlocked. Eric’s six foot
two inch frame was folded over the tiny loveseat like an adult
sitting on a toddler’s chair. He was still dressed for work, his
suit jacket slung over the back of the couch. He grabbed the remote
and turned off my small television set as I entered.

“Hey,” I greeted.

He stood, and we met midway. He wrapped his
arms around me, pulling me into his embrace. What was left of my
resolve melted into a puddle at his feet.

“I missed you,” I whispered.

He pressed his finger against my lips to
silence me and led me to the couch. As we sunk to the cushion, he
replaced his finger with his own lips. Once the hello kiss had been
completed, he leaned back against the sofa, his arm wrapped around
my shoulders.

“I missed you too.”

“How long have you been here?” I was hesitant
to ask, but curiosity won out.

He drew in a deep breath prior to answering.
“A couple hours.”

Damn. That meant that while I was pouring my
heart out to Gracie about how insensitive he was, he was sitting in
my empty apartment waiting for me. No wonder he had called so many
times. I scolded myself, ashamed that I could be so
irresponsible.

“I’m sorry,” I said again. This time I meant
it. “I had no idea that you would be home tonight.”

“My last meeting today got cancelled. I took
an earlier flight. I wanted to surprise you when you got home from
your party. I didn’t think you would be out so late.”

“Well, you accomplished a surprise.”

“I thought about crashing your party, but I
figured that would be rude.”

The truthfulness in that statement was
questionable. I doubted the thought had crossed his mind.

“You could have come. I’m sure everyone would
have been happy to see you.”

Another false sentiment. After the last
couple days, Gracie would have been ready to gouge his eyes
out.

I rested my head against him and closed my
eyes. It had been a long, emotional day and everything was finally
catching up with me. I swallowed a yawn, embarrassed.

“Tired?”

“A little. I have to get up in the morning
and go look at a room to rent.”

He shifted his weight, causing me to sit up
on my own accord. His eyes traveled across the expanse of my
apartment, taking in the moving boxes that lined the walls. My
place had never been worthy of a spread in a decorating magazine,
but now it was uncomfortably void of any personality. With my
furnished apartment, there was little preparation that needed to be
done in order to move. In fact, everything that I didn’t
immediately need had already been packed away. When I was ready to
go, I really only needed to box up a dresser’s worth of clothing,
my bathroom stuff and the few dishes that remained in the
cabinet.

“You don’t have to do this,” he breathed.

“Do what?”

“Leave.” He took my hands in both of his.

I sighed. “Eric, I kind of do. I’ve already
accepted the job. They are interviewing people to replace me here.
I can’t just turn around and tell them that I was kidding. That
would be like suicide. I would never get another opportunity there
again.”

“You don’t need that job. I told you that I
would take care of you.”

“I don’t need taken care of.”

He let out a sharp, sarcastic laugh. “You are
doing so well on your own. I mean, everyone strives to live in a
dump and drive a fifteen year old car. Congratulations.”

I jerked my hands away from him, scooting
over as far as I could. The gesture only separated us by a couple
inches. The look in his eyes had changed, grown cold somehow. I
kept my gaze fixed on his, refusing to blink as I formulated a
response. My lips parted once, twice, but nothing came out.

Eric took that as his cue to continue.
Straight out of his book of tricks, he was using some patented
technique to close his sale. “I could give you everything you ever
wanted. Every little wish you ever had could come true. And you
walk away from me. For what? To prove some point?”

“That I don’t need to be in debt up to my
eyeballs in order to be happy?”

“I am not.”

“Way to sound like a ten-year-old, Eric.”

I stood up with a flourish, crossing the
apartment in a matter of steps. My frustrated fingers raked through
my cropped brunette hair as I paced in front of the window. Eric
also rose to his feet, though he lingered by the couch, allowing me
my space. I walked back and forth, concentrating on my feet, the
threadbare carpet, anywhere but him. I knew I still had the floor.
I needed to choose my next words wisely and make the most of
it.

“If you are so willing to give me everything
that I want, then you will allow me to do this. For years I have
stood by and let you make decisions for us. I never argued with
your choices. You wanted to go away to school while I stayed here?
Fine. You wanted to take a job that makes you travel ninety percent
of the time? Fine. Are you sensing a pattern here?”

I paused, letting my words absorb. He offered
no rebuttal.

“Why does every major decision you make
involve leaving me?”

Now I turned to face him, meeting his stare.
Eric winced.

“It’s not like that, Lauren.”

“It’s exactly like that. And the one time I
ask you for something, the one time I make a decision for myself,
you go off the deep end.”

“Lauren,” he repeated, moving closer.

I thrust my palm out, effectively cutting him
down. “No. If you want to leave me so much, then do it. Get
out.”

He looked as though I had struck him. We
stood for a moment, wordless, stonefaced. He broke the staring
contest first, reaching down to grab his pinstriped jacket. He
slung the garment over his shoulder, then spun on his heel.

For the first time in recent memory, he did
what I instructed.

The door slammed behind him, punctuating his
retreat.

Morning came way too early as far as I was
concerned. I laid in bed for a couple minutes after the alarm on my
cell sounded, snuggling against the comforter. Sunlight poured
through the window, casting its warm glow over the apartment.
Everything pointed to it being a wonderful day for a drive. A
beautiful day to begin a new adventure.

Yawning, I threw back the bedspread and swung
my feet to the floor. I padded past the boxes that held most of my
kitchenware in my bare feet on my way to the coffeemaker. I still
had about an hour to get ready before I needed to leave.

The appointment to look at my potential new
home was thankfully not until one in the afternoon. That had been
good thinking on my part. Of course, when I had answered the ad
online, I had no way of knowing how the previous night would have
ended up unfolding. I had been thinking more logically at that
moment. Never a real early riser on the weekends, I didn’t expect
myself to spring out of bed for a two hour drive to Fort Wayne, no
matter how good a deal the rent seemed. Fortunately, my potential
landlord hadn’t balked at my suggested time. In fact, she’d also
seemed relieved.

As I drank my coffee, I studied the map I had
printed out at work. I smoothed the creases out of the paper and
committed as much as possible to memory. The route seemed easy
enough, if rather boring. I really didn’t need direction until I
reached my exit. Before today, Fort Wayne hadn’t been a destination
spot; merely a pass-through on the way to Michigan.

True to form, I had done my due diligence
prior to selecting an area of the city in which to look for
rentals. I had mapped the location of my new office, looking in a
radius of about ten miles either way. This would make for a
reasonable commute. I had searched for information on demographics,
school systems and property values. My research had led me to
select the southwest side of the city. Of course, I checked into
apartment complexes, finding several worthy contenders. If today
didn’t go well, those would be my back-up plan.

I had been inexplicably drawn to an online
posting seeking a female to rent a room. Normally I would have
passed, preferring something of my own. However, it seemed like an
opportunity to find a comrade in a new place. We didn’t have to end
up best friends, but if we could tolerate each other it would be
helpful to have someone local around until I gathered my bearings.
I didn’t want to depend on maps or GPS for an extended period of
time.

With a cup of coffee in me, I was motivated
enough to hop in the shower. I let the water trickle over me until
it ran cold, closing my eyes. Relaxed, I wrapped myself in my plush
bathrobe and set to work picking out my clothes. For whatever
reason, I wanted to take time with my appearance today. Probably
something to do with the fact that I didn’t want to make a bad
first impression.

I settled on my favorite pair of jeans and a
tight, long sleeved black and white striped cotton shirt. A fairly
classic look: stylish, but not trying too hard. Plus, it wouldn’t
wrinkle too badly during the drive and end up looking like I had
slept in it. I slipped on my worn black boots and set to work on
hair and makeup.

As I blow-dried my short, choppy cut I smiled
to myself. Eric hated my hair. I loved it. All throughout high
school I had worn my hair past my shoulders, nearly to my waist.
During college I had cut it all off on a whim. When he had first
seen it, the disappointment in his eyes was apparent. Since then,
it had always been various lengths of short, though it never again
reached my shoulders.

Quite contrary to the usual stereotype of an
accounting major, I was fascinated by hair and makeup. If I hadn’t
have been on the fast track to graduating with honors, I might have
considered beauty school instead of traditional college.
Unfortunately, I had been too concerned with what other people
thought to choose my own destiny. Smart people weren’t supposed to
be creative, right?

So I lived vicariously through
experimentation on myself with various beauty products. My arsenal
of hair care items and makeup would rival that of a professional.
Getting ready in the morning for me was a release. It was pretty
fun.

Today, I settled for my favorite look: an
understated smoky eye with pale lips. Framed by my dark tousled
locks, I was a friendlier version of Goth. A little dark and
mysterious, though not unapproachable. My short gray nails
completed the look. Perfect.

“Here goes nothing,” I whispered to myself as
I grabbed my map and purse and headed out the door.

Nervousness entered my stomach as I climbed
into the Honda and started it up. I took a deep breath and clutched
the steering wheel, trying to will it away. What if this didn’t
work out? I shook my head, reminding myself of the back-up plan. No
matter what happened, I would be okay.

My new job didn’t start for another two
weeks. I had cashed in vacation time so that I could give myself
ample opportunity to search for a new residence and tie up loose
ends in Indy. Hopefully, I could get everything accomplished
quickly and have some free time as well. I had no indication of
when I would be able to sneak away and take time off again, so I
wanted to enjoy the freedom while I could.

As expected, the weather was perfect for a
drive. I cranked up the CD player and sang along as I cruised down
the interstate. My singing left much to be desired, but it kept my
mind in the present and off of what I was leaving behind.

Surprisingly, I wasn’t upset at the argument
that had occurred between myself and Eric hours before. The more I
thought about it, the angrier I got. He played recklessly with my
emotions and typically got what he wanted as a result. I was sick
of it.

Gracie would be proud of me and how I had
stood up to him. I made a note to give her a call tonight and recap
the fight. Though it had been brief, and I was sure we would kiss
and make up later, for now it was liberating. I still hadn’t heard
a peep out of him since he left. He was probably licking his
wounds. I vowed not to make the first contact. It would be his turn
to come crawling back with an apology. I deserved that much, bare
minimum.

Traffic was light and I made excellent time
to my exit. I pulled off the interstate, glancing at the clock on
the dashboard. Thirty minutes until my appointment. Per the
directions on the printout, my destination was about ten minutes
away. Just enough time to do a little exploring and still be
punctual.

I had choices. Turning right at the light
would take me to my new office and the downtown area. Left would
lead to my potential rental home and who knew what else. I signaled
left, deciding to get a feel for the neighborhood.

The usual fast food places and retail
storefronts greeted me immediately past the interstate. Very
typical and expected. A drugstore, a grocery store, two gas
stations-one on each side of the road, surely for convenience.
Nice. As a life-long city girl, this I appreciated.