Chapter Four
TO MY SURPRISE, Tina is quiet as we drive to my house. I was expecting her to interrogate me, but instead she drives down the interstate as silence envelopes us both. I thank God for the small favor, because even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t be able to explain what happened.
Would I have responded if he had attempted to kiss me? Thoughts of his sexy smile provide me with the answer. I would be crazy to deny myself the satisfaction of kissing a man who undeniably possesses an edge of raw masculinity. However, something other than primal desire stirs within me. There was a moment during our conversation when I saw Adam Black for more than an exquisite example of his gender. There’s a connection between us I can’t explain. The first time we met he not only saved my life but also challenged me to finish a painting I abandoned. During our second meeting he called me out on my hypocrisy. This arrogant, infuriating man humbled me. The most maddening aspect of this entire ordeal is that as soon as the spark between us lit, the encounter was over.
Unable to withstand the hushed atmosphere and my frustrating thoughts, I turn on the stereo. One of my favorite songs blasts from the speakers and as I’m about to sing along, Tina turns off the music.
“Is something wrong?”
“What going on with you and Adam Black? Are you keeping something from me?” She glares at me.
Is keeping something from you even possible? I clear my throat.
“Nothing is going on between me and Adam Black. You honestly think I would keep something that huge from you?”
“No,” she murmurs.
My body relaxes. I hate when there’s tension between us. Although I’m glad her mood softened, her suspicion is insulting. I’ve never been known for my tact, so I opt for honesty.
“Why would you think that there’s something between us?”
Tina puts on her indicator as she changes lanes. She shrugs as if she suffers from an irrepressible tick. “The way you both looked at each other. It seemed weird for a chance encounter. What were you talking about?”
“Why are you upset about this?” I shift the conversation to what’s really bothering me, her interference in my life.
“I’m not. I’m concerned; there’s a big difference.”
“Would it be so terrible if something were going on between us?”
“No.” She pauses for a moment and then states, “I’m not sure.”
“Why do you always do this? You always meddle, just like my mother.”
“I meddle because you don’t know how to deal with certain situations. If something gets too stressful you fall apart. I don’t want to find you in a thousand pieces.” Tina turns at our exit and stops in front of a red light. “I don’t want you to get disappointed.”
I’m disarmed by her visible apprehension. Can I blame her for being concerned when I’ve always relied on her to put me back together? My hands instinctively trace the scars on my wrists.
“I’m never going to see him again,” I say plainly, because it’s the truth. Why would I ever see him again?
“That’s the problem, isn’t it? That you won’t?” Small wrinkles form at the corners of her eyes.
“I barely know him.” My voice raises. “Why should I care?”
The light changes from red to green and Tina focuses on the road. “You do care. Even if you don’t want to admit it, you’re bothered by the idea of never talking to him again.”
“Well, since you know everything, why even bother asking me?” I cross my arms over my chest. She’s so overbearing. At the moment, I can’t stomach her intrusion.
“So you confront your feelings.” Now it’s Tina’s voice that rises in volume. “So you don’t internalize them and do something stupid.”
“Well, thank you for having so much faith in me, for thinking a small measure of sadness will prompt me to do something stupid.”
I hold back the tears pooling in the corners of my eyes. It hurts to be thought of as so weak and pathetic by my best friend. I’ve made mistakes, big ones, but not for senseless reasons. It made perfect sense to me at the time.
I gaze at my wrists, at the bangles that hide the marks of one of my stupid mistakes. Tina will never understand why, because she’s never felt the need to escape. She’s never been so overwhelmed with grief that the sheer thought of going on is suffocating.
We arrive at my house in record time. Tina grabs her purse and appears as though she’s coming in. I don’t want her to.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” My voice is despondent and I know the tone will worry her.
“I think I should come in, just for a little while.” Her voice is sugary sweet. It’s her way of coaxing me free from the depression I’ve submitted to.
“Tina, I’m fine. I promise that if at any point I feel like I can’t deal, I’ll call you.” I stare at her and hope she sees the sincerity in my eyes. “You can’t always be here, watching my every step. I need to cope with things at my own pace, and right now, I want to be alone.” I lean in to give her a reassuring hug and she squeezes me, prompting a smile to form on my lips.
She lifts her hand up, her delicate pinky raised. “You promise?”
I roll my eyes, and even though I’m still upset, I laugh. It’s something we’ve done since we were little. I lift my own pinky, hook on to hers, and we shake. “I promise.”
As I enter the empty, pitch-black house, I absently drop my purse on the floor and kick off my heels. I’m not tired and I don’t want to sleep. All I want to do is paint and lose myself in a room that smells of linseed oil. My hands run over my body, grazing the beautiful black dress I’m wearing, and in a second it too falls on the floor. I think of Black as I discard the remnants of my attire, not because I feel particularly sensual, but because of what he said.
“I like the honesty exhibited, the disregard for inhibitions.” I whisper his words because I agree with him. Being shackled by my emotions is not a life I want. So sitting in front of the easel, wearing nothing, I paint. I submit to the frustrations of being chastised by those I love, the sadness of the real possibility that I will never again speak with Adam Black, and the hours fly by.
THE phone startles me awake. I check the clock. Ten a.m. I’m surprised. It’s been a long time since I’ve slept in. Lunging forward, I grab the phone.
“Hello?” I mumble.
“Evie, you’re still sleeping?” My mother sounds astonished.
“Yes, Mom, I had a long night.” I rub the side of my head and stretch. I’m still naked.
“I hope you had fun. I’m sorry I couldn’t go with you girls to Art Basel.”
“Yes, we had a blast.” I try not to sound sarcastic. It was a fun evening, though I could have done without the emotionally draining encounters.
“Oh, that’s nice.” She pauses for a moment and I can sense the trepidation in her breaths. “I was wondering if you would like to go to Mass today.”
The question doesn’t surprise me. For the last two years, Mom has attempted to convince me that going back to church will make me feel better.
I’m silent for a long while, because for the first time in two years, the idea doesn’t frighten me. I remember praying when I was held at gunpoint. It would be hypocritical not to at least attempt to worship when I’m not in imminent danger. Maybe I’m not as faithless as I originally thought.
“Okay, Mom. Eleven, right?”
“Yes.” Her voice is astonished, only now I can hear a smile in her words. “I’ll pick you up at ten forty-five.” She hangs up—too quickly. She’s scared I’ll change my mind.
I hop out of bed and head to the bathroom. I turn the shower on and wait for the water to warm as I brush my teeth. Why am I so happy? The truth is that while my friends and family are constantly trying to determine what I’m thinking and feeling, I’m in the same boat. Half the time I have no clue as to the ebb and flow of my mood.
I enter the shower. Absently, I wash myself, my mind blank, then the face of Adam Black enters my head. I smile.
Thinking back on the events of the last two days, a random thought pops into my head. How did he disarm that man? I mean, how could he do that so easily?
I shuffle out of the shower and dry myself. It’s ten thirty. Shit. I’m running late.
Opening the closet door and eyeing the large assortment of sundresses I’ve avoided for the last few years, I’m filed with nostalgia. I pick a white floral dress and in five minutes I’m ready. The loud horn of my mother’s car blasts and, after a quick glance in the mirror, I run out the door.
In a few minutes, we’re at St. Mary Magdalene’s. Everyone is polite as they wave hello. Sunday Mass is something I’m familiar with. I’ve been attending since I was little. Or rather, I used to.
That was a lifetime ago.
We make our way to the pews and sit toward the front, near the altar.
I try to focus on the sermon. It’s always been my favorite part of the service. When the priest stands and talks about how the story we’ve heard today can somehow relate to the events in our lives. But my heart’s not receptive to the words being spoken and I want to leave. I look at my watch. Only ten more minutes and it will be over.
My phone vibrates against my hip. There are only two people who call me with consistency, Tina and my mom. Seeing as how one of my wardens is next to me, I figure it’s Tina. Quietly, and under the narrowed eyes of my watching mother, I make my way out of the church.
Sitting on the steps outside, I stare at my phone. One missed call. It’s a number I don’t recognize. One of the parishioners I imagine is here for the noon Mass glares at me with visible reproach.
Yes, I have decided to interrupt my worship to check my phone, I’m a heathen, I get it. After I give him an equally cold glare, he turns away.
I thought so.
I press the redial button and the deep voice of Adam Black reverberates against my ear.
“Miss Snowe, I’m so glad you called back.”
To say I’m surprised would be a vast understatement. How did he get my number?
“Are you there?”
“Yes!” I practically yell. “I’m sorry. I’m just a bit surprised by the phone call.”
His warm laugh is smooth and seductive. It’s like an unspoken promise.
“I was wondering if you’re free this evening.”
He wants to see me? My heart flutters, and it’s as if I’ve time-traveled to junior high. I’m sure I have the goofiest smile plastered on my lips.
“Oh. What did you have in mind?” I try to sound reserved.
“I’d like to take you out for dinner.”
“Why?” I realize after uttering the word that my tone is incredulous.
There’s a long pause, and the silence makes me question if he’s still at the other end of the line. His deep voice ends my speculation. “Are you always so distrusting?”
Of handsome men who want to take me out to dinner? I wouldn’t know, because it doesn’t happen often.
“Well, I don’t exactly know you.” Good girl, Evelyn. That’s a clever response.
He laughs into the receiver, the low hum vibrating against the curve of my ear and even though its eighty degrees outside, I’m overrun with goose bumps.
“You’re right. If only there was a socially acceptable practice in which a man and a woman could get to know each other, we could solve this problem.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “Well, since you put it that way, dinner sounds great. How should I dress?”
“The way you were dressed yesterday would be appropriate for tonight. You looked beautiful in that dress.”
My cheeks burn at the compliment. “Okay, I’ll see you at six.” I say nothing else because my brain cells can’t muster the creative energy.
He chuckles and I wonder if it’s at my expense. “See you tonight.”
I end the call. Did I just agree to a date with Adam Black? Should I be happy? Should I be nervous? A thousand questions cross my mind. Though I’m aware I’m not in the best place for this type of contemplation, I’m not willing to go back inside.
Mass appears to have ended. People shuffle out of the church, and my mother emerges with a deep frown between her eyes.
“Where did you go?” she murmurs, void of reproof. She must be under the impression that I stepped out due to racing, guilt-ridden emotions.
“I had a phone call,” I say, hoping she lets the matter go. It’s uncomfortable talking to my mother as it is.
“Who called you?” She asks the question I wanted to avoid.
“Tina.” I smile at her as I lie. It’s a believable fib and will spare us both an awkward conversation, so at least to me, it a considerate gesture.
Okay, I’m probably lying to myself at this point, but I can live with that.
She nods as we make our way toward the car.
I kiss my mother goodbye as she drops me off at my house, race up the steps leading to my porch, and go inside.
Adam Black wants to see me. In the blink of an eye, the world is filled with endless possibilities, with an enchantment that’s been absent for years, and I welcome the change with a smile.