What He's Been Missing (26 page)

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Authors: Grace Octavia

BOOK: What He's Been Missing
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“So soon? After a month? You're deciding to move here? Why?” Ian asked.
Xavier turned back to him hesitantly. “I just told you why. I've found what I've been missing. No need to go back to searching.”
“Ian, stop being so nosy,” Scarlet said. “They're in love.”
“Love?” Ian laughed.
“Why is that so funny to you?” I asked nonchalantly.
“Well, come on, guys—‘love'?”
“Yeah, I still don't get why that would be so funny,” I said.
“OK.” Ian rested both of his elbows on the table like a Vegas gambler and looked from Xavier to me. “Then, is it love? Are you two saying this is a love thing?” he pushed.
I felt Xavier stiffen, and then something in me sagged and flew out the window. My world where I was Ian's equal, sporting a set of matching wedding bands under the table, was pulverized by one rushed question. It was just too soon for that kind of interrogation. And Ian knew that.
Quickly, I was furious with my best friend. I wanted him pulverized, too. Alienated. To have his hope laid out on the table and dissected like a bio-lab frog.
Xavier was about to say something, but I cut him off.
I dug my elbows into the table to play, too. I leaned toward Ian and Scarlet and smiled.
“Scar, I totally forgot to ask you,” I started, smiling and laughing a little to make my coming attack appear to be friendly fire. “Did Ian ever tell you what happened the day you two got engaged?”
“No?” Scarlet looked over at Ian nervously. “Something happened? What?”
“Oh, nothing bad,” I tried to calm her. “Just our Ian being Ian. It's actually rather hilarious. I'm surprised he didn't tell you.” I dared not look in Ian's direction.
“What happened, babe?” Scarlet deferred to Ian like a good wife.
“Nothing,” Ian said dryly. “It's nothing worth sharing right now.”
“Good,” Xavier jumped in, “because I'm ready for dessert.” He looked at Scarlet. “Ian told me you made strawberry pound cake?!”
“Yes,” Scarlet answered with a half smile, showing that she wasn't sure where to set her attention.
“Girl, you may be a new bride, but you cook like it's your diamond anniversary. This food was excellent!” Xavier was trying to shift the focus from Ian and me. He'd been stuck in the middle of one of our random fights before and probably knew the tension well enough.
The only thought I had right then was that I wasn't sure where the tension was coming from nor what I was fighting for, but I wasn't backing down.
Ian and I stayed in an intense stare.
“Guess I'll get dessert,” Scarlet said, pushing back from the table to get up. She collected two of the empty dishes and went into the kitchen.
Xavier's hands fell to his sides and he exhaled deeply to exaggerate the condition of his full stomach.
“I can't even breathe, man,” Xavier said. “Haven't had home cooking like that in a minute.”
“I cooked dinner last night,” I pointed out.
“Come on,” Xavier said. “Spaghetti and eggplant doesn't exactly compare to what went down here.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Don't be like that, Rach.” Xavier put his hand back on my knee. “I'm not saying anything was wrong with your food. It was excellent. You know you're my favorite cook ever.”
Ian rolled his eyes.
An awkward instrumental that sounded like a little high school orchestra trapped inside a cell phone clanged through the silence at the table. It was a familiar pulsing that pulled my eyes to Xavier's pocket between us.
Xavier tried to talk over it, saying something about getting Knicks floor tickets if he was in New York in the New Year, but the little orchestra in his phone kept playing.
“It's probably just work,” he finally said.
“You can get it, man,” Ian said. “We're all professionals here. We can stand to hear a little bit of your Chicago-style wheeling and dealing. Right, Rach?”
“Nah. I don't want to interrupt your dinner. I'll send it to voice mail,” Xavier said, reaching into his pocket.
“No, I insist,” Ian said. “Don't miss a call on my account.” He looked at Xavier the way a father looks at his son before sending him off on some great mission that will decide for all around if he's a man or not, and I knew that Ian was working to prove something to me or Xavier or both of us.
Xavier, of course, didn't send the call to voice mail. He looked at the phone and put it to his ear.
“Hello? Yeah, hey, what's up?” He struggled to sound blasé, to lace his greeting without care, but through such detachment in his voice, an actual attachment to whomever was on the other side of the call was apparent from the first syllable.
I moved my knee away from him. Nothing was fair right then.
“I'm great. I've been fine,” Xavier said after pausing to let the person speak. He playfully mocked interest to Ian and me to get us to smile.
Ian laughed just enough to let me know that his missile was landing.
“Just having dinner with some friends,” Xavier went on with his call.
KABOOM!
Friends
. I heard Ian repeat this a million times even though he hadn't said a word.
I wondered where on the wall of gift boxes he and Scarlet had stashed the cake plate I'd sent them. I wanted it back.
“Cool, then. I'll give you a call back later,” Xavier said. He paused a little and then closed with, “Yeah. Great.”
By the time Scarlet came back into the dining room juggling four gold-rimmed saucers with pillows of pink cake perfectly placed in the center, her first dinner party had turned into the ground situation in Hiroshima just hours after the A-bomb. I was furious. Xavier was embarrassed. Ian was awaiting an attack. All elbows were on the table.
The little saucers went around. And we ate. We stuffed the sweet little cakes into our mouths and wrestled with the notion of the ongoing war as the strawberries provided an interesting distraction for our taste buds. They were so good at such a bad time.
The only neutral nation at the table, Swiss Scarlet, kept the conversation going by sharing every little step she'd put into making the cake. The organic strawberries. Expensive flour. Cane sugar. She'd followed the recipe exactly. And “anyone could be a cook if they just followed instructions.”
“Good thing you like to cook,” I said, seeing the perfect new weapon to draw. “Since you won't be going back to school, you can be our Ian's own little chef!”
“What?” Ian looked at me like I'd said the most ridiculous thing. “Scarlet's going back to school. She's starting her graduate program in the fall.” He turned to her.
“I was telling Rachel in the kitchen that I was thinking about not going back to school right now . . . that maybe since we'd just gotten married I could stay home and focus on the house. You know?”
“No, Scarlet, I don't,” Ian said. “And why would you share something like that with Rachel before you—”
“Oh no!” I cut Ian off. “You know what, I'm sorry. Scarlet did say it was a secret. I was confused. I couldn't remember if that was the secret or the baby! Wait, whoops!” I laughed like a confused little old lady and dabbed the corners of my mouth with my napkin. TAKE THAT! JAB! KABOOM!
“Whoa!” Xavier dropped his fork.
“Baby?” Ian turned his whole body to Scarlet.
“No—I'm not pregnant,” Scarlet said. “I was just telling Rachel that I—well, we—so, I—and a baby—we said we'd have one someday!” She was so tongue-tied her face was turning red.
I actually felt bad that she'd come into contact with combat, but her ally was too close to the fire for her to miss all the shots.
“I was just talking,” she said.
“Just talking? You don't just talk to people about things like that,” Ian said. “You come to me first. I'm your husband. You make decisions with me—not Rachel.”
Scarlet's eyes went wet with humiliation and then everyone at the table felt sudden shame.
“You ready to go?” Xavier announced.
“Yes,” I answered.
Xavier started to get up and I tried to move with him, but he stopped me.
“I'll go get the car. You can wait up here,” he instructed.
“I'm fine,” I said.
“Rach, you were complaining about your shoes walking to the door earlier. I'll get the car and pick you up right downstairs.”
“But I can walk.”
“Listen to your man!” Xavier said. He looked at Ian. “See what us brothers have to deal with?”
Xavier said good-bye to Ian and Scarlet and left to get the car.
Ian started helping Scarlet carrying plates and such into the kitchen and, needing air or just a way out of the debacle, I got my purse and went out to stand on the front balcony so I could see Xavier when he pulled up.
Ian only lived on the second floor, but the view of twinkling lights that dotted the midtown skyline made it seem like I was up in the sky with the stars. On so many nights, Ian and I had sat out there and talked about our dreams. Where we were going and what we wanted. So many nights, I'd told him about the love I was looking for. How I felt like I couldn't live, that I wouldn't live until I'd found it.
It was getting cool. But I let the breeze blow pocks all over my shoulders.
The glass door slid open and I knew it was Ian stepping outside. I could feel his energy. As tight as mine. For what? He was quiet.
“You don't want me to be happy,” I said, still looking at the lights. “I don't know why. You know how much this means to me.”
“It just isn't right, Rach,” Ian said. “It's not for you. It's just a feeling I have. This isn't right for you.”
“Yeah, well, feelings are like assholes,” I said. “Everyone has one.” I stepped closer to the ledge. “And what was that shit in there? You invited me here to try to ruin things with X? You know we're just getting started.”
“Starting what?”
“Starting us. Starting something. Starting what you have,” I said.
“Well, don't rush. It's not all it's cracked up to be.”
I looked at Ian and we were talking in silence. He meant to tell me something about Scarlet that he couldn't share because we were still on two sides of a battlefield. Maybe it was about the secrets in the kitchen. Maybe it was about the geometrically shaped food.
Whispers from beneath the balcony injected noise into the exchange.
“I'm sorry. I just got away so I could call you back,” we heard. “I'll be home real soon to check on you.”
We knew the voice. It was just low enough to be a secret, but still familiar enough that we didn't need to rush to the balcony's edge to see who it was. The door that led to the parking lot where I'd parked was on the first floor right beneath Ian's balcony.
“I'm just in Atlanta visiting my boy from college. My old roommate. Yeah, the one who got married,” the whispering beneath us continued. I closed my eyes and pretended I couldn't hear this. I didn't want to hear this. Because hearing meant knowing and I couldn't unknow this once I'd heard it. The talking stopped and I looked at Ian before we both looked out over the parking lot to see Xavier walking toward my car with his phone in his hand.
I balled up my fists and wanted to swing at the wind. To throw my shoes into the night and hit everyone in the head. Every man I'd ever loved. Or pretended to love. Or just thought I'd loved. But my shoes were $800 and I'd only worn them once so I kept them on. I pushed Ian out of my way and went through the doors in a hurry to get my purse and get out of there.
“Wait, Rach!” Ian tried to grab my arm.
“Night, Scarlet. Thanks for everything,” I said sharply to Scarlet, who was still picking up in the dinning room. I grabbed my purse from the couch and raced out the door with Ian behind me.
“Rach, wait!” He grabbed my arm just before I made it onto the first landing in the stairwell.
“What? You happy now?” I asked.
“No, I'm not happy at all.”
“What? Wasn't that the point of everything you did in there?”
“I don't know what's going on with me, but seeing you here tonight—with him—I can't just let you be with him.” Ian was rubbing his forehead like his head was about to explode. “I can't be happy without you. But I can't be with you.”
“What are you talking about?”

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