Mesmerized (5 page)

He pauses to look at me. I try not to meet his gaze, but I can feel him staring at me.

“I see you’re nothing like the girl I knew. So, you want me to leave you alone? Fine. I’ll leave you alone.”

He folds his arms across his chest and turns his face towards the passenger window.

I feel a little pang of regret for my angry words, but I quickly flick the volume of the radio back up to drown it out.

The rest of the car ride is quiet, each of us seemingly lost in our own thoughts and regrets. We are about five miles from town when I realize that I don’t even know where I’m supposed to be taking him. I hesitate to break the glassy silence, not wanting to force us back to reality, when there seems to be so much to deal with from the past.

Am I supposed to drop him off and then just go back to my life the way it was before? How can I even think that would happen? It’s like everything I knew about life has changed in a matter of seconds, and my brain can’t process the information fast enough.

I feel dizzy.

I steal a glance at him. He looks just as miserable as I feel.

“Are you staying with your parents?” I finally venture, flicking off the radio. My voice gets swallowed up by the sudden silence.

Brandon’s parents live a little ways out of town, but I know the area well. I cannot even count the number of times I have been there. And although it’s been years since I was last there, I can close my eyes and see every last detail: the long driveway, low rock wall surrounding the borders of the yard, the homey looking yellow house with a porch swing. It’s like something out of a movie.

“Uh, no, actually I have a room at that inn off Briar Lane. You know the one? I have the address on my phone,” he answers, and turns in his seat to dig around in his carry-on bag in the backseat.

Watching in the rearview mirror, I smile sadly as papers fly through the air while he struggles to find his phone. He had never been a very organized person. He used to joke that he was marrying me because I always knew where to find things. I guess he has a personal assistant for this kind of thing now. I frown at the thought and turn my attention back to the road.

“I know which one you are talking about, it’s called the Beverly Inn.”

“Aha, yes. That’s the one.” He shoves everything back into the case and then rights himself in his seat. “I’m hopeless when it comes to remembering that kind of thing.”

“Yeah, I know,” I say, trying not to let the memories take over again.

“Right.”

An awkward silence falls as we both fidget and shift in our seats.

“Why not stay with your parents?” I ask, desperate for a subject change.

“It’s already pretty full with everyone in town. Plus, I keep weird hours these days, so I figured it would be best if I stayed on my own.”

I nod, unsure of what else to say….unsure if I even want the conversation to continue.

I spot the inn ahead and pull to a stop in one of three parking spots. Apparently it’s not a very busy establishment, but from looking at the front it appears nice. Well-tended bushes line the walk on either side of the double French doors, and a hand painted sign sits atop the doors, with little spotlights on each side.

“Guess this is home,” Brandon says as he peers out the window. I smile, suspecting that he is more familiar with flashy, five-star hotels by now.

“Well, have a good time with your family,” I say, wishing my palms would stop sweating.

Brandon turns to face me. “Charity, listen, I know things have not gone super smooth tonight, and I know I said I would leave you alone, but I’d really like to see you again, at least one more time before I go back to LA. Can I take you to dinner tomorrow night?”

I shake my head and look down at my hands. “I really don’t think we should.”

He drops his gaze and nods slightly. “All right, understood. Well thanks for the ride.”

I try to smile but it doesn’t feel genuine. What’s left to say? Have a nice life? Wish things could be different?

None of it seems right.

He leans in and kisses my cheek, and I hold my breath.

“Good-bye, Charity.” His eyes lock with mine.

“Good-bye, Brandon.” My voice breaks.

Sometimes I hate being a girl. It seems like you are always on the verge of either crying or going insane. Then again, maybe it’s just me. My friends all seem well-adjusted for the most part.

He offers a small, sad smile before grabbing his bag from the back seat and exiting the car. He shuts the door softly before turning to go up the small walk of the inn.

I watch him go inside, and then release the breath I’ve been holding back. I rest my head on the back of the seat and try to regain control. It’s one of those moments that you think for sure must be a dream. Or a nightmare.

I hear a click and turn my head to see Brandon opening the passenger door. Before I can say a word, he leans across the front seat, takes my face in his hands, and presses his lips firmly to mine. The kiss feels possessive, and I instantly melt into it, amazed at how natural it still feels after all this time. Butterflies explode into fireworks in my stomach as the kiss deepens, and his hand moves to weave through my hair. His lips are soft and warm, and familiar against mine. He parts my lips with his and the tip of his tongue invades my mouth, touching the tip of mine and sending fresh waves of heat over my body.

It takes a good minute before the alarm sounding in my head is loud enough to distract me. I jolt away from Brandon and back myself against the driver’s side window, breathing hard, my eyes wide. My shock is reflected back to me in his expression, and I’m not sure if he is surprised by his actions or my reaction. Maybe both.

I stay frozen against the door, not trusting myself to move. At any moment, my body could rebel and fling back into his arms. I mentally draw a line down the center of the car and vow to stay on my half. Looking at Brandon, still catching my breath, I am suddenly nineteen again. The old spark is still there. Without even touching him, I can feel the current between us, pulling us closer.

I close my eyes and remind myself of the invisible line.

“I should get going, it’s late,” I say.

The smile leaves his face, and I feel a twinge of guilt. “I’m sorry,” I add.

He shrugs and smiles again. “It’s fine. I get it.”

He’s obviously forgotten that I know him well enough to know when he’s fine and when he’s not. Currently he is not okay, despite his words. I feel bad but I also don’t know what else I can do. My hands and heart are tied with memories from the past, and no matter what I tell myself, I don’t see that ever fading enough to rebuild what we had.

He closes the car door again and gives a slight wave before slipping through the front doors of the inn.

This time I immediately start the car and hit the gas.

I get home ten minutes later, and shuffle through the front door like a zombie. The clock on the wall shows it’s nearly midnight, and I have to be back at work in less than four hours. I groan to myself and go into the kitchen to grab my phone charger. Sometime during the drive home my phone went dead. Ashley has probably sent me half a dozen messages by now. I grab the charger from the drawer next to the fridge and take it with me to my bedroom. I plug my phone in next to my bed and lay it on the nightstand. While it starts to power up, I go about my nightly routine: makeup off, contacts out, teeth brushed, hair piled up in a messy bun on top of my head. Lastly, I slip into some yoga pants and an oversized sweatshirt.

Exhausted, I flop onto my bed and roll over to grab my phone. Sure enough, there are three texts from Ashley. And one from James:

“Working late. I’ll call tomorrow.”

Several possible responses run through my mind. As much as I want to clear up the drama from last night, I am a little pissed off that he ignored me for twenty-four hours and then, when he does finally get in touch, that’s all he has to say.

The message was sent over three hours ago, and I’m pretty sure he will be sleeping by now. Skipping over his message, I go to the ones from Ashley. She’s probably still awake, but I’m not sure I have the energy to talk about any of this right now. I text her back to let her know that I just got home and need to sleep. Then I flip the phone to silent and turn out the lights.

In the dark, I try to force myself to close my eyes and go to sleep, but my mind is restless. I am physically and emotionally drained, yet it feels as if my mind could ramble on forever. I can’t stop the replaying of kissing Brandon in the front of my car. I know I should feel bad, that it was technically cheating on James, even though things were way screwed up between us right now. But, as I licked my lips, I couldn’t help but remember the way Brandon’s had felt on mine and wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t stopped it.

***

Morning comes all too quickly, and before I know it, I am trudging back to work. I think I dozed off once or twice, but for the most part, it feels like I spent the whole night tossing and turning, my wheels spinning.

I’m the first to arrive at the café, so I unlock the doors and let myself in. I stash my purse and jacket in the back room and go about the morning routine. About a year ago, the bakery we used to order all our breads and pastries from closed up. The owners moved to Florida or something, and I volunteered to become the baker. So the café purchased some extra equipment, and I started coming in at the disgusting hour of four a.m. to bake everything from scratch. I am mostly self-taught—there was a lot of carb carnage in the beginning—but now I have my standard recipes down to a science. I could turn them out in my sleep, which is convenient since that is basically my current mental state.

I spend the next two hours baking everything we’ll need for the day. Most of it had been prepped the day before, so it is just a matter of orchestrating timers and rotating everything through in the right order. Some days, when I’m not half dead, I play classical music and wave my arms around at the ovens like a snobby conductor. For the record, today is not one of those days.

About twenty minutes before opening I hear the bell on the front door jingle.

“I need a mocha stat!” Ashley says, as she steps inside.

“Good morning to you too. What are you doing here so early? I thought we were doing lunch today.” As if on autopilot, I turn to prepare her drink.

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to take a raincheck on that. Tomorrow?”

“Sure. What’s up? Is everything okay?”

“Some company ordered like three hundred bracelets. It’s my biggest order ever, and it has to go out in a couple of days. Which is great! Fantastic, actually! But my next shipment of supplies is on backorder, so now I have to go into the city to pick up some things. I’m heading out now, but thought I would at least stop by and say hi, see how your night went. Since your late night texts were less than helpful.”

I set the coffee cup down in front of her. I stare at her as she takes a big gulp, not sure what to tell her.

“Charity? Are you okay?” Ashley asks. “You look like hell.”

I shake my head, trying to clear the fog. “Sorry, I’m just really tired. I couldn’t sleep last night.”

“Did you talk to James when you got home?”

“No, it was really late. I figured he’d be asleep. He did text though. I guess he was working late and said he would call today.”

“Oh, okay. So then, what’s wrong?” Ashley asks. Concern shows in her eyes.

I shake my head. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I want to say. Things are complicated.” My voice trails off.

“Complicated how?” Ashley asks. She takes a final sip of her drink.

“Well, something happened last night. I, uh, saw someone at the airport.”

“Someone, who?” Her eyebrows knit together as she stares at me, as though trying to read my mind. “Not…”

“Brandon. Brandon was there.” I confirm her unspoken suspicions.

“Brandon was there? You can’t be serious!” she yells.

I shush her and lower my voice. “Would I really joke about something like that? I drove him here and dropped him off at the Beverly Inn, like five blocks that way!” I gesture at the window.

Ashley looks horrified. “You drove him here? Why on earth would you do that?”

I quickly explain the situation, leaving out most of the details of the conversation we had on the drive. Her expression only changes to become more shocked as I go along. Not a good sign. I mean I know it was bad, but was it really this bad?

“You kissed him!” Her chair nearly topples over, as she jumps up.

Apparently,
it is
that bad…

“Shhh!” I pull at her jacket until she sits back down again. “No, I did not kiss him! He kissed me. It was a mistake, I’ll admit. But it’s going to be okay. He’s only in town for a couple of weeks. Then he’ll go back to LA, and everything will go back to the way it was before.”

I hope.

Ashley considers me skeptically. “Charity, I’ve known you for like, your whole life. There’s no way you will just forget any of this ever happened and go on like normal.”

I know she’s right, but maybe if I keep telling myself that it will all be fine, I’ll start to believe it.

Eventually.

“Well I have to try. What choice do I really have? It’s self-preservation, trying to keep my remaining shreds of sanity, here.” My joke falls flat.

“What about James?” She ignores my question. “Are you going to tell him?”

“Oh, yeah, sure. I think now would be a great time to tell him about kissing someone else, immediately after having our first really big fight. That would be perfect,” I fling back. “Of course not, Ashley. Are you out of your mind? What happened with Brandon was a mistake, a one-time thing.”

“Ugh, I can’t believe this is happening,” Ashley says.

“I know. My life has suddenly turned into a Lifetime movie special of the week.”

Ashley laughs. “No kidding! Well, like you said, it’s only a couple of weeks. Besides, he’ll probably be busy with family stuff anyways. You won’t even know he’s here.”

“Exactly.” I nod in agreement.

The bell on the door rings again as the first groups of customers arrive. I hop up from the table and get them seated before sending Ashley off.

***

The rest of the day passes quickly, and I only end up working for six hours before my boss lets me go. Luckily, people are pretty generous on Sundays, so the tips were decent, even though it was a short shift.

On my walk home, my phone starts to buzz from the pocket of my coat. I fish it out and see James’ name on the screen. I hesitate slightly before pushing the answer button and lifting the phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey, is this a good time?” he asks.

“Yeah. I’m just walking home from work,” I answer.

“All right, well, listen, I really want to see you. I want us to work things out. I don’t know what happened the other night, but I’m sorry for being such an asshole about everything, and for not calling you sooner. I think the whole thing caught me off guard, and I didn’t know how to react.”

He sounds so sincere, and a jolt of guilt hits me when my mind flashes back to the kiss with Brandon. For a brief moment I consider telling him what happened at the airport and coming clean, but I decide against it. If I ever decide to tell him everything, it will be better in person.

“Honestly, you don’t have to apologize. It was just a miscommunication, and I way overreacted and made an idiot of myself. I figured we both needed some space to think things over, and we’ve had that. Let’s just drop the whole thing and move forward. Okay?”

“Sure,” James agrees, sounding surprised but relieved. “I’m free tonight. I could pick us up something for dinner and come over. Chinese?”

“That sounds perfect,” I say.

“Great. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.” He pauses. “I love you.”

His words sound strange. It was only two nights ago that he said it for the first time. Alarm bells ring in my head at the silence on the line, realizing he is waiting for me to reciprocate the statement. “You too!” I force some happiness into my voice, before clicking off the call.

I slide the phone back into my pocket and cringe at my own lame reply. It didn’t feel right to say
those
words the other night and it especially doesn’t feel right now, with all the confusion in my head and heart.