The Art of Forgetting (19 page)

              “You don’t have to feel like you owe me anything, okay?”

              “Do I have to pepper spray you again just to have dinner with you?”

              “Look, I’m sort of busy tonight. I gotta go.”

              Lloyd got to his feet and reached for his tray when Erin clasped his wrist. “The reason I was talking to Nick De Luca is that they caught the guy,” she said

              “What guy?”

              “The purse-snatcher. Okay? They arrested him last night.”

              “Good. Now I won’t have to save you anymore.”

              “No, Lloyd. You don’t have to save me.”

              Lloyd felt a tightening in his chest and his legs suddenly felt heavy. But he needed to leave, before she could see him blushing.

              “G’bye, Erin.”

              “See you later, Lloyd.”

              He plodded towards the closest exit feeling oddly self-conscious, as if he were walking to stand in a corner for misbehaving in class. He could taste that familiar sour savor of regret. But what choice did he have?

              Chapter 15

             
T
hat evening, lost in thought, Lloyd had forgotten about dinner and had managed to ignore the first quivering twinges of hunger, but when the doorbell rang unexpectedly his first reaction was relief that his take-out order had arrived. Except he hadn’t ordered any food. And as this realization sank in he was left with a sense of puzzlement.

              He glanced at his wrist-watch as if it might hold a clue to the mystery of the door chime before rising to his feet and making his way down the stairs. He unlatched the dead bolt and pulled the front door open. There on the sidewalk stood Erin, a white paper sack dangling from her hand.

              “Hey,” she said.

              “Hey,” Lloyd echoed.

              He could feel a wave of warmth spreading from his chest upwards to his face. He exhaled slowly, stepped into the doorway and stood with his feet apart, his arms crossed.

              Erin’s smile became strained. “I felt so bad about standing you up last night that I thought I’d make it up to you.” She lifted the paper sack and gave it a shake. “Got us some crab-cake Po’boys.”

              Lloyd said nothing.

              Erin took a step towards him and said, “I hope you haven’t had dinner yet.”

              “You can’t just show up here like this,” Lloyd said.

              Erin froze. Her eyelids fluttered.

              Lloyd allowed himself a sliver of smile. He had managed to stab her with a tiny dagger. Now he would twist it inside her. He turned his head to mimic a furtive glance inside the apartment, stepped onto the curb and shut the door behind him.

              “Oh…” She looked at the closed door, her mouth open. “Oh,” she said again and took a half-step back. “Gosh, I’m so stupid,” she said.

              Lloyd widened his stance and folded his arms again, his jaw muscles tightening.

              She looked up at him and narrowed her eyes. “How could I be so
stupid
?

              Lloyd’s lips twitched with a smirk. He needed to push her away. That was how he always dealt with this type of situation. But whereas in the past this step had always been taken with an icy detachment, this time it was smoldering with feeling. He couldn’t deny a surreptitious pleasure in hurting her, the way she had hurt him.

              Erin squeezed her lips together. A solitary tear trickled down her cheek and now Lloyd knew why he ached to lash out at her, why he had been feeling this inexplicable torment.
How did you ever think you could avoid falling in love?
 

              He unclasped his arms. He wanted to reach out and take back the words, to tell her how sorry he was, to embrace her, to shield her in his arms.

              “Erin…”

              “Shut up Lloyd.” She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Just shut up.” Now she was the one who widened her stance and tightened her jaw. Her lips stretched in an acerbic grin. She lifted up the paper sack and said, “Here Lloyd, enjoy your crab cakes.” She swung her arm around and caught Lloyd square in the temple with the sack which tore, spilling its contents on the sidewalk. “And I hope your skank gives you crabs too!”

              She turned and paced towards her car.

              Lloyd rubbed the side of his head, looked at his hand as if expecting blood, then sprinted after her.

              “Erin, I’m sorry.”

              “Leave me alone.”

              He rounded the front of the car and pushed on the driver’s door as she grasped the handle.

              “There’s no one inside the apartment.”

              “I want to go home.”

              “Come inside. You’ll see. There’s no one there.”

              “I don’t care!” She turned her head side to side evading Lloyd’s attempts to make eye contact.

              “I have no one, Erin. Do you hear me?  I have no one.”

              “Well, what a surprise!” She tried prying open the car door but Lloyd pushed it shut. “I want to go home, Lloyd.”

              Lloyd kept his hand firmly planted on the car door. Erin released her grip on the handle and trotted onto the sidewalk before settling into a steady march. Lloyd caught up to her and fell in unison with her stride.

              “What’re you doing?” he asked.

              “I’m walking home,” she said, her eyes fixed straight ahead.

              “Please don’t.”

              “Watch me.”

              “I said I was sorry.”

              She said nothing as she kept her pace, and Lloyd could think of no words to get through to her. From the time he had silently pledged to end the Copeland family curse, to have it interred with him upon his death so that it could no longer destroy lives, he had no need for words to assuage the ire of spurned lovers. Letting them walk away was an act of kindness that would spare them the unspeakable pain suffered by generations of Copeland wives. How could anyone accuse him of taking advantage of women to satisfy his sexual cravings when in truth he was sparing them from a harrowing end?

              But Erin was different. She made him feel a sensation that was not raw lust. A feeling that was exhilarating and piercingly painful on the same stroke.

              They crossed a narrow side street and walked down a block of cookie-cutter townhomes. It started to sprinkle. The baritone of a thunder clap reverberated off in the distance.

              “It’s starting to rain,” Lloyd said. “You’ll get all wet.”

              “I don’t care.”

              “Let’s go back to my place. There’s no one there.”

              “I said I don’t care.”

              The rain drops grew heavier lifting dust off the black-top as they pounded the ground, filling the air with a sour staleness – the acrid smell of unwashed children. When they reached Harlem Avenue they were met by a gust of wind and the sky overhead turned the color of lead.  The even patter of drops hitting the pavement turned into a downpour.

              The headlights of the cars in the still-heavy traffic beamed to life with menacing urgency as Lloyd and Erin stood near the curb waiting for the crossing signal to turn green. Erin closed her eyes and lifted her forehead to the sky, the rain mixing with her tears and washing away the rivulets of mascara that had painted her cheeks. Her chest rose and fell with deep cleansing breaths.

              “I’m so sorry,” Lloyd said.

              She looked down and punched the metal button on the light pole repeatedly.

              “Erin, I like you.”

              She stopped pressing the button and turned to face him.

              “I really like you,” he said.

              The cars crawled to a stop as the traffic light changed.

              “Oh, fuck off Lloyd!” She stepped off the curb as Lloyd stood there mouth agape. Erin reached the center divider, stopped, turned on her heels and paced back towards Lloyd in long strides. Her lips were pinched, her eyes narrowed. She grabbed Lloyd by the collar of his shirt and pulled him across the sidewalk under the awning of a discount shoe store.

              She let go of the collar and stared into his eyes, grabbed his jaw to straighten his face when his eyes tried to drift away.

              “Why, Lloyd?” she asked.

              He shrugged. She raised an eyebrow and cocked her head.

              “Why, what?” he asked.

              She grabbed the front of his shirt, pulled him towards her then shoved him back.

              “Do I have to spell it out for you, you dimwit?”

              Lloyd exhaled slowly. “I… I’m just scared.”

              “Bullshit answer.”

              “No, it’s true.”

              Erin put a hand on her hip and nodded. She bit her lip. “Scared of what?”

              “Scared I’m going to hurt you.”

              Erin snorted. “And what the hell do you call this?” She grabbed his face with both hands. “Bullshit, Lloyd. What is it with you?” Her voice had lost some of its edge.

              He put his hands on hers, gently peeled them off his face and brought them together between them.

              “I’m scared I’ll let myself fall in love with you.” He paused and gazed deep in her eyes. “And ruin your life.” He squeezed her hands before letting them go and tucked his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

              “That’s some psycho-babble crap you’re trying to sell me.”

              “There are things you don’t know about me.” He shook his head. “You don’t have a clue who I am.”

              “What are you, some kind of axe-murderer?”

              Lloyd looked over her shoulder and gazed at the sparks bouncing off the undercarriage of an El train slowing into the Harlem Avenue station.

              “No, you probably couldn’t handle the gore,” Erin said. “I don’t think you’re gay… Shit!  Don’t tell me you’re secretly married.”

              Lloyd shook his head. “I’m not married.”

              “Okay. Then… maybe an evil witch put a spell on you. You were a cute little frog and she turned you into an ogre.” Erin looked down to his shoes and slowly brought her gaze back up.

              Lloyd peered into her eyes. “That’s it, actually. I’m cursed. I carry a family curse.”

              Erin opened her mouth to say something but caught herself. She regarded him quietly for a moment and finally nodded once as if acknowledging the recognition of sincerity.

              She grabbed his forearm, pulled his hand out of his pocket and grasped it firmly. Then she gave him a sharp tug and the two were running down the sidewalk, hand in hand, towards Lloyd’s apartment. Crossing the side-street to Lloyd’s block, they badly mis-timed a jump and landed ankle deep in a little stream that had formed near a rain gutter. They exchanged a comical glance and kept jogging until they arrived at the apartment’s doorstep breathless. Lloyd caught a glimpse of a smile on Erin’s lips, but then she turned to look at the soggy pile on the curb which was all that was left of the sandwich bag and frowned. Lloyd stepped over and tried to salvage the remains but they were a hopeless, sopping mess. He scooped everything in his hands, walked to a nearby trash can. He was about to toss the dripping bundle in the bin when Erin said, “Wait, I’m starving.”

              Lloyd let the bag drop in the trash and brushed his hands against the back of his jeans. “Don’t worry. I still have all the food I ordered last night.”

              He took a couple of hops over shallow puddles to get to the door and grasped the handle when Erin said, “You told me last night you didn’t order any food.”

              “Oh, yeah. I lied about that.” He pushed the door open and as he crossed the threshold he felt a slap on his butt.

              Lloyd’s windowless first floor was as cool as a cellar. Erin started shivering.

              “It’s freezing in here.”

              Lloyd tried rubbing her arms briskly. “Is that better?”

              “No-o-o,” she said through chattering teeth.

              “We need to get out of these wet clothes.”

              Erin raised her eyebrow in her trademark way.

              “What?” Lloyd said with a soft chortle.

              “I’m not ready for… you know.”

              “Yeah, I know. We just need to get you in a hot shower.”

              “You think we could handle being naked and just… I don’t know… snuggle?” she asked.