Pieces of You (6 page)

"I went up to the hotel bar and I met the most beautiful woman in my life. I still remember the smile she gave me. How her hair smelled and the color of the polish on her toes." I chuckle and shake my head. "We became almost instantly connected." I smile at the memory.

Riley has a look of confusion on her face. Unsure of where I am going with this she questions me with her eyes.

"I need to tell you this. You need to see…"

"Okay," she whispers and waits.

"I wound up ditching my friends and she ditched the bridal party she was with and we never left each other's side. Instant. It was amazing. Time came for me to leave and she was still going to be there for a few more days, so we exchanged numbers with the intention of meeting up back home. Trouble was, she lived in another state, but that didn't stop us. I moved in with her and within days, we decided that there was no changing our minds and we left for Vegas to be married in one of those cheesy Elvis ceremonies."

"But you never made it," Riley whispers, and I confirm with a head nod.

"That's right. We never made it. A truck driver was texting while driving and because of that small phrase that just couldn't wait, Mel was ripped from my life. I watched her die. It was almost instantaneous. I remember it almost every night in my dreams. I wake up in a pool of sweat and confusion at the same time every night, until I remember that it already happened, and I lived through it."

She puts her hand on mine and looks into my eyes.

"I was in the hospital for a long time. My leg was broken in a few places and I needed a lot of therapy. But out of everything that happened - losing Mel and losing my ability to walk - her parents took away my one and only opportunity to say goodbye. They blamed me. It was my fault their only daughter died on the interstate. It was my fault because I told her we had to get married - it was all my plan. They had money and they knew that's why I targeted their daughter in Mexico and moved in with her right away. They knew that I was a lowlife scum who planned it all."

"That's horrible." She gasps in disbelief, closing her mouth only to swallow and lick her dry lips. I run my thumb along her bottom lip and across her cheek.

"What's horrible is they came to my hospital bed and tore a strip out of me. Banning me from the funeral that I couldn't go to anyways - banning me from my opportunity to say goodbye. They took away my closure."

"Did you ever go to the cemetery? Say your goodbye? You know, they can't ban you from a public place unless it's in a private area ... like Forest Lawn, or Graceland." She shifts her position on the couch and she looks into my eyes. "So you never got closure?"

"No." I take a drink of my beer. "Instead, I drink more than I should, I replay all of her voicemails, re-read all of her texts and relive the worst day of my entire life over and over again. "I place the bottle back on the table. "That was until recently. This is where it gets tough." I stand up and pace the floor a little while she watches me. "I met you and I thought you were extremely attractive. You know? That first day when you caught me stealing a carrot." She laughs at the memory.

"I remember.”

"I was taken aback because I haven't found anyone attractive since Mel. It kind of took me off guard. Then we worked on the house together, and I started feeling ... something. I think maybe you did too."

Blushing, she puts her head down and those dimples appear again.

"I'm not saying I'm ready to move forward. Not even close. But I want to one day." I tuck my finger under her chin and watch her expression fall from what I can only assume to be hopeful to let down. The last thing I want to do is hurt her, I want to get to know her. I want to move forward. I want to live again.

"So you brought me here to tell me that you aren't interested in me. That you don't want to move forward from this major tragedy in your life. But you are attracted to me? What the hell is that? I don't understand the point of this conversation." She snatches back her hand and stands up, storming toward the door. "I can only hope that you've had too many of those and tomorrow at work you will be back to normal." She points at the glass bottle on the table.

"Wait that's not what I'm saying, I…"

"Look. Tomorrow we should be finished the renos. Painting is all that's left. Once we do that you can continue dwelling on the past and not wanting to move forward. Sound good?" Her hand digs in her pocket and pulls out her keys. Turning abruptly she storms out of my house leaving me alone on the sofa regretting everything about today.

Chapter 6

I'm not going to lie, it's awkward as hell with her today. She won't talk to me the way she used to. No joking, no friendship. Just business. She's my boss, and it sucks something bad. I've tried to talk to her several times but every single damn time I enter the room where she is, she's either on the phone, or she holds her finger up with pursed lips and walks away.

It's just hard to walk away from her. She smells amazing, and her ass looks magical today. She's twisted her hair up in a ponytail and has a tiny piece that hangs in front of her face, that she constantly tries to blow out of the way. I want to brush it behind her ear for her, but I know that I can't. Last night I blew it, just by trying to be honest.

I finish painting the last of the baseboard trim in the house, and I know that the end is just around the corner. Deciding to take one last look around, I try to buy every moment I can. I need to get the courage to talk to her, to try to save the friendship we had in this last month. It was a pretty good one, and I thought maybe we could continue to be at least friends after this flip.

Maybe I was wrong.

I hear her enter the master bedroom behind me. Her shoes on the floor as she walks around the room inspecting it. "You did a fantastic job, Mr. Lorey," she comments. I sense the distance in her voice, and it angers me.

"Ty. My name is Ty. Your name is Riley." I stand from my crouching position near the far window and turn to face her. She closes her eyes and shakes her head back and forth. Her nose wrinkles and she takes a deep breath.

"Don't." Her nostrils flare as she turns and starts to walk away from me.

"Riley." I begin while reaching for her arm and gently urging her to turn around. "Look. I had NO intention of last night turning into this." I motion my hand back and forth between us. "None."

"What were you hoping for, Ty?" She crosses her arms and purses her lips. I can see her jaw clench as she tries to keep her cool. "What were you hoping would happen by telling me that you didn't want to move on? A roll in the hay? A heavy petting session? What?"

I roll my eyes and scratch my chest. "That's what you want to see, huh? You think that little of me after all this time? Thanks. You sure know how to make a guy feel good." She's impossible, and I know that there is no way I can make her see my intentions.

She doesn't want to see them.

"So now I'm the bad guy? Whatever, Ty Lorey." She hisses. "It's been a pleasure working with you. Your final payment will be deposited on Friday as agreed upon." She spins on her heels and storms out of the room, leaving me standing alone angry and done with the whole damn thing.

I hop down the stairs, and into the kitchen where I left my tool belt and coffee mug. I see her out in the garden taking pictures of it as I collect all of my belongings. Turning my hat around, I push open the screen door and step out onto the porch. It's an action that catches her attention, and she glances in my direction briefly before taking more photographs on her phone. Storming past the gate, I reach my truck and climb in, slamming the door hard behind me. Turning the key, I shift the truck into gear and speed away from the property, kicking up gravel and dust behind me. Looking in my rearview mirror, I think I see her step out of the gate and watch me as I drive away before being swallowed up by dust.

***

Sweat pools along my spine as I wake up not remembering where I am, and I begin to panic. I'm not as drunk as I was earlier or yesterday. This doesn't feel like my bed, and it certainly doesn't smell like me. I smell strawberries and realization suddenly hits me.

Sasha.

I nod at Princess as I enter The Shake. He doesn't even stop me, he just greets me as I walk past him. I make a beeline straight to the main bar where Tim and all the groupies are hanging around. Tim hands me a beer and a shot. I gladly take both and slam them back as quickly as I can. Holding up my fingers, I signal the bartender to pour another round of shots for us and to keep 'em coming. The women are trying to get our attention, hinting that their glasses are empty, wanting us to give them alcohol, but we ignore them filling our own, getting drunker by the minute.

Through fuzzy vision, my eyes swim in my head as a hand rakes up my spine. Causing goosebumps to raise in the wake of the fingernails. They reach my hairline and trace the line to my jaw.

Turning my drunken gaze to the left, I see the smiling face of Sasha. Looking at me with lust, maybe? She's smiling and continues to touch my arm and my chest. "Sasha." I slur and lift the bottle to my lips, tipping it back and having some of the liquid dribble down my chin. I don't even wipe it, I just let it leave its trail as it falls onto my shirt from my chin. The lights around me are flashing and spinning. I hold onto the bar top for balance, hoping I don't pass out.

"Let's go," I suggest to her and her eyes light up. She's surprised by my offer since I barely give her the time of day. "Back to your place. You need to drive though, I can't even..." I start but don't finish the sentence before she puts her glass down on the bar top and brings her lips to mine.

The rest of my memory is fuzzy, and I am thoroughly dehydrated. Turning my head, I see her laying there on her belly - completely naked. Her arms are tucked under the pillow causing the swell of her breasts to be visible. She does have nice breasts, but I have to go. This is far from the ideal situation.

Carefully I roll over and try to sit up without shaking the bed too much. My feet hit the carpet, and I wiggle my toes while I lean forward and rest my still drunken head in my hands.

What was I thinking?

Looking around, I don't see my clothes. They aren't on the floor by me. So, I stand and tiptoe to the other side of the bed, where I find them laying in a ball.

"Your keys are in my purse. Your truck is outside." She mumbles into the pillow as I bend down to pick up my clothes. "But I think you're still too drunk to drive."

She's probably right.

I slide my legs into my jeans and clumsily pull my shirt on, looking around for my ballcap.

"Hat is in the truck." She mumbles again.

Stopping. I look down at her and have no clue what to say. "Thanks," is all I can muster before turning and walking out of her room.

I quickly find her purse on the table in the kitchen and take my keys out. Before I leave the room, I run the water and drink directly from the tap. I drink for a while, but my thirst is still there as I turn to find my boots in the doorway. Hopping into them, I open the door and leave.

The night air is chilly, but I still decide to walk home. I leave my truck in the driveway but lean in to get my cap before starting my trek home. The town isn't that big, but it's still going to take me some time to get there. I'll get Tim to bring me to pick up my truck in the morning.

There's no traffic in this town at this time of the night. If anyone is out at The Shake, their vehicles stay overnight, unless they stay sober. Most of them. I pass the tree that Cam Parsons wrapped the front end of his Chevette around after we first turned twenty-one. He's so lucky he survived. Paralyzed but alive. We all learned a lesson that night, at least our group did. The kids who turned twenty-one after us, heard the stories or remembered them from the year before, until the stories went away. But now, more young people are being smart about their alcohol consumption.

I walk past Sue's next, and all the lights are out. She shuts down at eleven. If she were to stay open later, she'd make a killing from all the bar people. But she doesn't hear that. She likes her sleep, and since it's mostly her at the restaurant, I can't say I blame her.

Maybe I'll go see my parents for a week. I haven't seen them since they left my place a few months ago. I miss Mom's cooking. I miss Dad's sports talk. I wonder how they like their new place in the city. If they found friends, or if the neighbors just kind of invited themselves into the postage stamp sized yard for a cookout one day and my parents just kind of took them in as their friends. Mom probably drives everyone nuts with her bragging about the son who survived death.

My thoughts suddenly change to Mel, and it pisses me off.

I storm the rest of the way home, knowing that I messed up tonight and amazed at how I can regret the past forty-eight hours, when I have never had a moment of regret in my life before this.

Finally reaching my house half an hour later, I head straight to the kitchen for a big glass of water. Guzzling one down as quickly as I can, my next stop is the shower to get this smell of strawberries off of me.

To wash away a mistake.

A stupid drunken mistake.

I turn off the water, grab a towel and tie it around my waist. I walk into the bedroom and drop to the bed. Not toweling off. Nothing. Pulling the blankets up over me, I close my eyes and sleep a dreamless night.

BANGBANGBANG

The sound wakes me, and I don't quite know where it's coming from. I sit up and cradle my head in my hands, rubbing my temples, trying to massage away the icepick that's stabbing my brain.

BANGBANGBANG

Someone is pounding on the front door, and each bang makes the icepick dig deeper into my gray matter.

Standing, I slowly wrap the towel around my waist and plod through my home to the door. Pulling it open, Riley is standing on the doorstep.

"Decided I didn't have enough yesterday? Thought maybe you would come to my house and continue on your little pity me rant?" She purses her lips and taps her fingers on the manila envelope in her hand.

"I came to give you this. Your check, your bonuses. Thanks for everything, I'll make sure to put a good review up on Yelp for you." She pushes the envelope into my hands and turns on a dime. She's great at leaving, and she's proving that right now.

"Don't bother. I don't need you to put that up. People in town talk. We communicate to get things done. We don't need the internet or fancy reviews." I slam the door and toss the envelope on the sofa before returning to my room to go back to sleep.

Too frustrated to get comfortable, I angrily put on some clothes and storm into my kitchen to turn on a pot of coffee. Picking up my cell phone, I find my parent's phone number and turn to watch the pot percolate.

"Good morning, Sunshine." My mother's cheery voice answers the phone. I can picture her wearing her apron, removing fresh cinnamon buns out of the oven and taking them to the table for her and Dad. He's reading the paper and drinking his black coffee.

"Morning, Mom. How are you?"

"Tyson! Oh what a pleasant call!" She is genuinely surprised to hear my voice. I think my parents are the only people in the whole world that don't have caller ID. She's also the only person in the world that still calls me Tyson. I wince every time.

"How are you and Dad?" I take a coffee cup from the cupboard and lean back on the sink waiting for the pot to finish brewing.

"We're fantastic, honey. Your father has taken up making models. He is really enjoying the old cars. His excitement is contagious." I can hear dishes bouncing off each other in the background. "I have a couple of ladies whom I have afternoon tea with every Tuesday and Friday. This week it's my turn to take a treat. I'm going to make crispy rice marshmallow bars, but I'm going to be sneaky and add some butterscotch." She sounds proud of herself, and it makes me sad that I'm not there to witness her excitement.

"That's fantastic, Mom. I was wondering if I could come see you for a bit. A few days or so?" I push my fingers through my hair and wait for her response. Of course she's going to jump on it. Any chance where she can dote on me for any length of time is welcomed.

"Of course, son. When are you coming? I can cook a pot roast with those crispy potatoes you love, brown gravy and some vegetables. Of course they are frozen, the vegetables aren't the same when you live in the city. I much rather prefer the frozen to the old stock in the grocers. It's all wilty and well, just no flavor."

An idea hits me like a ton of bricks. "I can be there tonight and I will bring some fresh vegetables from Widow Crawley's garden. You know she passed on right, Mom?" No one lives there, and I'm sure as hell not going to let the garden rot in the soil. They'd never be able to plant again.

"I heard. She was such a nice lady. Do you remember when she used to give you apples and carrots on your way home from school when you were a boy?" Her twisted memory makes me smile. We both know that's not how it happened, but all these years later, she is still holding on to the story we made up for Dad so I wouldn't get into trouble.

"I do." I confirm. "I'll get on the road around two or three. I can be there by six, is that alright?"

"That's perfectly fine. Take your time and be safe on that interstate." I can hear the worry in her voice, and I can't say I blame her. It's still very fresh for all of us. "I'll tell your father to expect you for supper. I can't wait to see you, Tyson. I miss you so much."

"I miss you too, Mom. I'll see you at supper." We disconnect the call, and my coffee finishes brewing. I place the phone on the counter and slowly push off the sink with my empty mug, walking the short distance to the pot.

I look up at the clock and see that it's 11:30. I'll have time to get my truck and pick some veggies before I have to leave. But first … I need this coffee.