The Space In Between (15 page)

“YOU’RE A STRIPPER.” A ghost-faced
Eric sat across from me with his head resting in his hands. He couldn’t look at
me. But I couldn’t blame him. His baby sister. A stripper? I could tell he was
having a hard time connecting those dots. To be honest, I could hardly connect
them myself. The room was filled with a dirty air neither of us was interested
in breathing. The moment Ladasha realized it was a family affair, she and
Freckles disappeared into her room.
Dangit.
I could have really used her
help trying to explain.

I needed to say something. To somewhat give him some level
of comfort that it wasn’t as bad as it looked. I wasn’t as bad as he was
envisioning me. I bit the bullet and opened my mouth. “I know what it looks
like.”

He looked up at me as if I were a complete stranger and
shook his head. “Mom and Dad are going to flip.”

“No! You can't tell them. Daddy will die.” I was pretty
certain Dad would fall over and never get up again. I could almost feel my
mother’s pain from finding out about me. It would be even worse if the town got
a hold of the story. They were still sizzling from Derrick’s death, and this
would be another dish to add to Mom’s book club meetings.

This was my fault. I should have called my mom more. Checked
in and pretended as if all were well. Made up fake stories about the diners.
Told her lies about seeing Broadway shows. I’d slipped up. I hadn’t thought.
And now I was embarrassed—but mostly pissed—that I hadn’t thought to cover my
tracks better.

“How long have you been working there?”

My voice softened; I could already hear his reaction. “Since
I moved here.”

Eric shot up from the sofa. He didn’t even have time to be
angry with me. It was all so new to him. His fingers kept brushing across his
forehead, trying to figure out where to start. Searching for answers. That was
when he started scolding me with questions that could have come directly from
our mother. It was a known fact that he was a mama’s boy and I was a daddy’s
girl. So he came to me as a grounded spirit, a teacher, an educator. He didn’t
even leave time for me to answer all of his questions. He kept rambling off.

Did I not even stop to think about how dangerous the life I
was living could be? Did I not stop to think how degrading it was for me to
take off my clothing for money? How could I be so foolish? Many people have
issues, but they don’t fall apart over them. He couldn’t understand. I didn’t
blame him. “I'm gonna need you to start from the beginning because I'm
definitely missing something. How could you be so stupid, Andrea?”

“You won't understand.”

“Try me.”

Defeated, I tossed up my hands, “I lost my best friend. And
I was stuck in a place where I couldn’t breathe. Everything reminded me of him.
Everything
was
him, Eric. I had to move away. I had to leave that
place.”

Sarcastically Eric rubbed his eyebrows. “So of course the
next step is stripping. How easy is it? To take off your clothes each and every
night?”

“I just recently started onstage, all right!? It’s a form of
dance…”

“It’s a step away from being a hooker!” He didn’t know how
much his words stung. I was growing more and more disgusted with myself as the
heaviness of his disappointment came into focus. That was the second time that
night I’d been called a hooker. Once by my friend with benefits pregnant wife,
and once again by my brother. Eric continued. “You should get tested.”

“For what?” He lifted his eyebrows and I quickly realized
what he was talking about. “I’m not a prostitute, Eric! Jesus Christ!”

Eric stood against the wall, pounding his fist against his
mouth repeatedly, trying to get a glimpse of my mind. I could see he was
beating himself up a bit for coming on so hard. Perhaps it was the tears
forming in my eyes which made him ease up on me. His eyes softened as he began
to realize the last thing I needed was to be disciplined. “Come home, Andrea.”

“I can't.”

“Why not? You said you got fired tonight anyway! What are
you going to do? Get kicked out? Live on the streets? Start a crack addiction?”
I hated how extreme he was. But he had a good point.
What am I going to do?

“Listen, you can stay with Michelle and me at her parents’
house for awhile. It’s right outside of town, and no one would bother you
there. Come home and pull yourself together for a little while.”

All I could think about was texting Cooper. Escaping from
the world for a bit. Losing myself in his arms and forgetting about all the
troubles surrounding me. But Cooper was the main reason I was jobless. Cooper
was the reason I’d walked home with that box in my arms. And Cooper was the
reason my brother thought I was a whore. I had a growing level of hate filling
my stomach for him. But at the same time I wanted to snuggle my head into his
shoulder and hold on to him because he too, knew what it was like to be broken.

“Listen. I don’t want to do this, but I will tell Mom and
Dad.” He was serious. It made me sick how much Eric was like our mom. He had
her brown hair and her dramatic personality, always taking things to the
extreme. And I hated him for it because he was always right.

 Ladasha opened her door and walked into the living room
with Freckles in her arms.

“You should go, Andrea.” She looked at me and I was shocked
she would even think any of this was all right. She went on to explain how
Simba didn’t want to go back to Pride Rock, but he had to—to take his place as
king. Sometimes I wished her movie references didn’t fit so perfectly into
situations.

“You’re not the same girl you were when you left Wisconsin,
but maybe that’s why it’s better. Maybe you fit there now.”

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Eric’s eyes were locked with
Ladasha’s, and he seemed to be smitten by her. She was beautiful, so it wasn’t
a surprise; all guys looked at her as if she were a goddess. It was a bit weird
seeing Eric fixated on someone who wasn’t Michelle.

“Eric, this is my friend, Ladasha. We met in college.”

Eric nodded. “Hi Ladisha.”

“It’s La
dash
a.”

“Spell it.”

Ladasha rolled her eyes, went to the couch, and made herself
comfortable. “L. A. Dash symbol. A. La-dasha-ah.”

Even I was taken aback. I raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? A
dash symbol?”

“That's sexy.” Both of our eyes shot to Eric who appeared to
be infatuated with the extremely different creature before him. It didn’t help
that Ladasha had slipped into her booty shorts and a tight tank top for the
night.

“What?” I asked.

“Huh? Nothing. Listen. I'm gonna book your flight back with
me.” Eric quickly changed the subject as he shifted his eyes from Ladasha. The
sweat dripping down his eyebrows showed how guilty he felt for even laying eyes
on someone who wasn’t Michelle.

“If I come back with you, you won’t tell Mom or Dad?”

“I won't. But you have to stay awhile, Anders.”

“And you'll help with the apartment payments while I’m
there? I want to come back to New York, Eric.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. We'll leave tomorrow night. But there's
one more thing.” Eric gave me hopeful eyes. I knew he was about to ask me
something annoying; he always scrunched his nose when he was going to say
annoying crap. “You have to come to the Christmas party.”

“No.” Eric pulled out his cell phone and started dialing,
but I wasn’t going to be pushed. Crossing my arms, I stood tall, unable to be
moved. “I’m not going, Eric.”

“No, that’s fine. I’m just gonna leave a quick message for
Dad.”

“Screw you. Okay, okay. I’ll go.” All right. I’d been
pushed, moved, and bullied.

Perking up with excitement, Ladasha joined in. “And I’ll
come too!” An air of silence filled the room. Ladasha could see the worry on
our faces. Albany wasn’t really a place where Ladasha’s loud personality and
sexy, flirty style belonged. But she began to beg.

“Andrea. Pleaseeeee!?” The puppy dog eyes appeared. But
let’s be honest, there was no way I was going to leave her here. She showed up
when I’d needed her most, and I knew in her heart, after finding her mom, she
was ready to relocate. It wasn’t a want—it was an actual need. “And she comes
too.” Eric agreed to the idea of Ladasha coming with. I personally thought he’d
secretly hoped for her to join us.

“I’m going to bed.” I was drained and needed this night to
end.

As I walked into my bedroom and slammed my door, I could
hear Eric and Ladasha talking. The paper-thin walls were my enemies that night.
I could hear the concern in my older brother’s voice as he spoke to my best
friend. “Ladasha, you seem like a nice girl. You really do. I don’t understand
why you two would do that to yourselves.”

“Do what?”

“Strip.”

There was a silence. I figured Ladasha was in search of the
right words to come to her. The right film comparison. My heart was pounding;
would she be able to make him understand?
Please make him understand, Dasha.

“It’s like a kite.”

She didn’t go for her normal movie explanation. I grew quite
intrigued, not knowing where this was leading. I sat down against the door and
listened to the exchange of dialogue between the two of them.

“What does that mean?”

“A kite. There are millions of kites in the world. Different
shapes. Different sizes. Some kites are made for the crazy winds. Some get torn
a little. And some plop! Instantly hitting the ground right out of the package.
Andrea's kite can still be repaired. She'll be fine.”

“What about your kite?” Eric’s voice softened; he knew what
Ladasha meant, even with her somewhat random comparison. But that was the thing
about Ladasha; in her mind, everything was connected in some way. You just had
to take the time to figure out how.

“My kite?” I could hear the self-doubt in her voice. It was
the same sound I’d heard escape her voice in the dressing room at the club. She
didn’t think her kite was worth saving. My heart broke for her. She didn’t dare
answer the question. “Let me grab you some pillows and blankets. It can get
chilly in here.”

And that was the end of the discussion.

I went to bed, unable to sleep. The idea of returning home
was filling my mind. I could hear the whispers now. I could see the saddened
eyes staring at me.

I didn’t want to go home.

But where else did I belong?

“GO TO HELL, asshole.”

Welp. Didn’t see that coming. After a night filled with
memories, I had to get back to the real issue at hand—finding a way to keep
Andrea’s name out of the tabloids. I knew I hadn’t responded to her text
messages, but I didn’t think it was
that
serious for name calling. I
was, after all, trying to save her image. I held the cell phone to my ear as I
listened to Andrea call me every negative name on the planet.

Pig. Vomit. Ass. Jerk. Liar. Idiot. Stupid-ass. Asshole.
Freak. Twit.

As she continued, I slipped a few words into the
conversation. “What’s going on here?”

“I don’t know, Cooper. How about you ask your pregnant wife
who got Ladasha and me fired last night?”

Oh no… She didn’t. She wouldn’t. I paused and thought about
Iris and her recent threats and hatred. She would. Son of a bitch.

“Where are you?” I asked. I needed to meet with her. To try
to explain myself. There was so much Andrea didn’t know, and it was only fair I
tell her myself. I would hate for her to hear it from anyone else.

“Ma’am, if you could please turn off your cell phone? We are
about to take off.”

I heard the stranger’s voice in the background and felt
chills run down my spine. She was leaving. “Andie, wait.”

Click.

I ran my hands across my face and felt the prickly hairs
against my palm; I hadn’t shaved in a few days. My mind hadn’t stopped racing.
I needed to talk to Andrea. And she needed to hear me out. Iris kept crossing
the line, and she was really in need of a fucking reality check soon enough.

“WE TRY TO create the best
weddings for the couples. It takes a lot, to be married. And it's important to
have this special day to look back on.” Iris smiled to the cameras and crossed
her long, sexy legs.

I completely agreed with my wife as we sat filming a
confessional scene for our ‘reality’ show. “Yeah. It's a reminder of all the
things you love about each other. But some don't need the big crazy wedding to
remember those things.”

“What’s that suppose to mean?” Iris looked to me with a
confused look as I shrugged my shoulders.

“I think that when people are lucky, they can look at
each other to remember why they made the promises that day.” I took her hand
into mine and kissed it gently, “I got lucky.”

Iris smiled brightly and looked directly into the camera,
pulling her hand away from me. “Yeah. But a big wedding wouldn’t hurt.”

“And, cut! Let’s take a break, everyone.” The director
yelled, as the camera crew stopped rolling. Iris’s makeup artist came over and
started powdering her face.

“What the hell was that, Cooper?” Iris harshly whispered
in my direction. Pushing her makeup artist away, she stood up, walking to her
dressing room. “We have to reshoot that now because of you. Just stick to the
damn script they gave us, all right? And next time I would rather you not make
me look like a raging bitch, asshole.”

I ran my fingers through my hair and sighed.

Well, if the shoe fits.