Chapter 16
Mary
Brandon fell asleep a while ago with his arms around me so tight I could hardly breathe. I love it. He makes me feel like nothing in the world can touch me. If I could just lie here with him for the rest of my life, I would. I’d make up for the years apart, loving him every second of every day. Prove to him that I never stopped.
Since I’ve been staring at the ceiling for the past two hours, I decide to carefully peel myself from Brandon and get a drink of water. Maybe walking around will help to tire me.
The cat stands and stretches, arching her back, then hops off the bed and follows me to the kitchen. She rubs around my ankles and I use my toes to play with her for a minute. Then, I open a bottle of water and go to the window. Movement catches my eye, and when I squint between all the cars in the parking lot, I see a woman and a man in the shadows.
Stepping back so my body is hidden, I continue to watch for no other reason than I’m curious. I witnessed many things I shouldn’t have at Pay-By-Day, and one thing I learned the hard way, by being punched in the face, was to stay out of other people’s shit. The man raises his arm, and I cover my mouth. He strikes the woman, and she runs away as the man walks to his car. I watch until he drives away, finally releasing the breath I didn’t know I was holding. If he hadn’t left, I would have woken Brandon up and called the cops. But he appears to be gone now and the woman ran away.
Faint pinkish-purple tinges the sky, and I yawn, finally tired. I set the bottle on the nightstand and crawl back in bed next to Brandon. His eyes pop open, and he reaches for me.
“What’s wrong?” His voice is sleepy sexy.
I contemplate for a brief second telling him about what I saw, but the guy is gone and there is nothing he can do, so there’s no sense in worrying him. My now tired brain decides I’ll mention it later to him. “Nothing. I just couldn’t sleep.”
The pads of his thumbs apply small circles to my back, and I close my eyes. His fingertips trail up and down my spine, allowing me to relax enough to drift off to sleep.
* * *
I wake with a start when Kat jumps on my head. “What the . . .” I roll over to find the bed empty, with a piece of paper where Brandon was sleeping.
Didn’t want to wake you.
Call me when you get up.
Love—B
I roll over to grab the cell phone Brandon bought me last month and dial his number.
“Hey, babe,” he answers on the first ring.
“Hi.”
Papers shuffle and a squeak sounds, like he rocked back in a chair. “Loved waking up with you in my bed.” His voice is low and quiet; he obviously doesn’t want the guys he works with to hear him.
“I didn’t like waking up with you gone. I wish you would have woken me.”
“You were tired. I didn’t want to.”
I push the covers off and walk to the kitchen to pour a glass of juice. “I wouldn’t have minded.”
“I know, but you needed your sleep. I felt you tossing and turning all night.”
“You did? I thought you were knocked out.”
“I did. Hey, I’ve gotta go. But do you want to meet me for lunch later?”
“Umm, actually. I wanted to finish unpacking and stuff. Can I take a rain check?”
“Of course. I’ll call you later. Love you.”
He hangs up. I eat a banana real quick, then after a shower I work on moving my stuff off the table and finding a place for everything to go.
By the time Brandon gets home for the night, I’ve cleaned the apartment from top to bottom and have dinner made. He walks in, all hot with his uniform of black on black, and grabs my ponytail then kisses me. Not a quick peck, but a long, slow, hot kiss that makes my legs feel like Jell-O.
“Hi,” he whispers against my mouth.
“Hey.”
“You have no idea how bad I wanted to leave early today knowing you were waiting for me here.” His head turns toward the kitchen, and he squints back at me. “I thought you said you didn’t cook.”
“I don’t. It’s salad from a bag and a frozen lasagna.”
“Where did you get it from?”
“I walked to the store. I wanted to do something nice for you for letting me stay here.”
His grip on my hair tightens, and he leans closer, forcing my back to arch as his blue eyes bore into mine.
“First, I’m not letting you do anything. You’re here with me because it’s where you belong. Second, I don’t need thank-you dinners from you. The only thing I need is to know you’re gonna be here when I get home from work, and you’ll be in my bed every night when I go to sleep.”
I swallow and try to regain the composure he so easily made me lose. He always does that. With a look, or a freaking word, he unravels me.
“Okay.”
“Good. Now feed me, woman. I’m starving.” He pats me on the butt and sits on the stool at the kitchen island, waiting for me to serve him.
And I do. Happily. I’ve never done this for anyone else before. During the entire meal, we laugh about old times and argue about the party he had while his parents were away.
“It wasn’t my fault they found out!” I yell.
“Bull. Shit.” He crosses his arms and leans back. “All they had to do was look at you and you caved. You couldn’t tell them the sky was green without laughing.”
“I swear. By the time they asked me, they already knew. I told you that like a hundred times already, but you can’t get it through your head that I did. Not. Tell them.”
His answering laugh makes me giggle. “Who the hell was it then? I swear, when Mom cornered me with that damn bottle cap, I almost shit myself.”
“Oh, my God. Me, too. She walked up and opened her hand then looked directly into my eyes and said . . .” I remember it like it was yesterday. My heart races just thinking about it. If there were ever people I didn’t want to lie to or be disappointed in me, it was the Parkers. I turn to Brandon and take a deep breath, schooling my features. I hold out my hand just like Elizabeth did. “Mary? Do you have any idea why I found this beer bottle cap in the basement?”
We both burst out laughing, and I wipe the tears from my eyes. “I swear she could see right through me when I shook my head.”
“I’m sure it was all part of her plan. Corner you and guilt you into confessing.” He grabs our plates and takes them to the dishwasher. “I mean, if anybody told her the truth, it would have been you.”
“Yeah, and I felt so bad for lying to her, but I didn’t want you to get into trouble.”
He turns and crosses his arms. “You don’t have to worry about protecting me, Mary. Never did.”
The sharpness in his voice causes a sinking feeling in my gut. I’ve managed to avoid too much talk about the reasons I left by changing the subject or blowing him off completely. I was hoping we could just forget about it and move on, but apparently, he has other ideas.
“I know.”
“Then why did you? Why lie and run away? I’m supposed to be the one who protects you, not the other way around.”
We’re not talking about the party anymore. “Brandon, I told you the truth. I was scared and I didn’t want my parents’ fucked-up life to affect you. I thought Scott would follow through with his threat.”
“I get that. I do. But what about all the times I asked you what was going on at your house? When you slept over? Lying by omission is still lying, babe.”
I close my eyes and contemplate what to do. I’ve never told him the real reason. It’s in the past now, shouldn’t I just leave it there? He thinks I just couldn’t sleep because of the noise. I came up with that lame excuse.
“Mary!”
“People tried to sneak in my room, okay!” I cover my mouth and watch as his face becomes hard as stone. I never wanted him to find out the real reason.
“Who?” he grits out, cracking his knuckles.
“I don’t know.”
He walks over to me and squats down, holding my hands. “Did somebody touch you?” He cringes and rolls his neck. “Hurt you?”
I shake my head. “No. I always got away before they did. I always went to you when I got scared.”
His shoulders fall and he tilts his head. “Why didn’t you tell me?” The malice in his voice from finding out the truth is surprisingly controlled. “Fuck. I should have known better. Should have figured it out.”
“I was embarrassed.”
“Why the fuck would you be embarrassed? It’s not your fault your parents were fucking pieces of shit.”
My eyes widen, and I rip my hands away, but he grabs them again, “I’m not sorry for saying that. They were, babe. I mean Jesus, they named you Mary Jane.”
I know they were, but it still hurts to have it thrown in my face. “Don’t call me that!” I yell and push him away. “Don’t ever call me that again.” It wasn’t until I was in high school that I figured out the true definition of my name. I always thought it was because of those cute black and white shoes. To say I was ashamed is a huge understatement. Just another embarrassment to add on to the list.
“I didn’t call you that.”
“Just please, can we move the hell on already? I was a fool and made a huge mistake by running away. I ruined your life, and somehow, by the grace of God, you’ve decided to give me another chance. Can we not rehash everything? Please. Let’s just move on. I can’t go forward knowing that you still hold onto the past.”
His eyes soften. “Yes. We can. I’m sorry. I won’t bring it up again. You’re here now and that’s all that counts. But if you ever want to talk about it, which I think you should, you know I’m here.”
“Thank you.”
“And Mary? You didn’t ruin my life. You made it worth living.”
* * *
The next week, I open the door to Travis, Charlotte, and their adorable baby girl, Caroline. “Hi! Gimme, gimme!” I take the baby out of Travis’ arms, and he gives me a warning look.
“Relax, Travis. She’s not going to hurt her,” Charlotte chimes in, removing Caroline’s hat.
He doesn’t respond but grunts and walks into the apartment.
“Sorry. He’s a little overprotective.” She gives me an apologetic smile.
“I would be, too. Look at her, she’s gorgeous.” I kiss her cheek and cradle her in my arms to join the brothers on the couch who are watching sports news.
“Damn, bro. She got so big.” Brandon tries to take her from me, but I pull back.
“No. You can hold her while I’m gone.”
“Okay.” He holds his hands up in surrender and laughs.
“Mary, we really should go. I don’t want to be late.”
For Valentine’s Day, the guys got us a day at the spa and we’re going today.
“Do I have to?” I kiss the baby’s head and pass her to Brandon.
“She’ll be here when you get back.” He takes Caroline and kisses me on the forehead.
“You guys are still staying for dinner, right?” I ask.
“Yes. We are. Now, let’s go.” Char gives Travis a chaste kiss and pulls my hand, heading toward the door. “I’ve been looking forward to this so bad. I love my baby, but I want a massage more than my next meal.”
We yell our goodbyes and I give her directions to the salon.
I curl my legs on the seat and turn to face Charlotte. “I can’t get over how cute Caroline is.”
“Thanks. I think so, too.”
“Has she been sleeping any more for you?” Last time I talked to her, she had complained that she was only getting three hours of sleep at a time.
“Yes, thank God. She goes for about five and a half hours straight.” She turns and looks at me before the light turns green. “So . . .”
“So, what?”
She laughs. “I need the deets, woman.”
“What deets?”
“Come on, Mary. You know all my shit. You still haven’t told me what happened between you and Brandon.”
“Ugh. You’re relentless. Didn’t I already tell you the past is the one thing I won’t talk about with you?” I try to lighten my tone, but there’s a finality to it. Why are people so insistent to know details?
“Fine,” she snaps then takes a breath. “Sorry. You’re right.”
“No, I’m sorry. It’s just . . . I grew up with the Parkers.” I can tell her some of it, I’ll just leave out a little bit. “And I always had a crush on Brandon. I didn’t think he felt the same way, and it scares me that one day he won’t want me anymore once he realizes I’m not the same person I used to be.”
“You’ve gotta be joking, right?”
“Huh?”
“Anyone can see the way that man looks at you, Mary.”
She pulls into the salon and turns to look at me. “I know it’s a hard subject, and I’m not asking you to talk about your past. I’d like to think eventually you‘d trust me enough to share. And I won’t push you anymore.”
Now I feel like shit. I don’t mean to be such a bitch, I try not to be closed off, but it’s so hard to let people in. “I’m really sorry. And I promise, I’ll tell you . . . eventually.”
“Deal.”
Charlotte and I enjoy an afternoon of massages and facials. Finally, we go into the large area where women get their hair and nails done. I have an unnatural attachment to my hair and never get it cut. I only trim it myself when it gets too long, so I’m sitting in a chair getting a pedicure while Char is on the other side of the room getting highlights.
I try to tune out the girls who are sitting around me, but their voices are too excited not to notice. They talk about their most recent trip to Vegas and the random men they hooked up with. One of them shows off her new tattoo while another explains how excited she is that this is her last semester of college.
I slowly sink back into my chair, no longer relaxed and happy. The magnitude of all the things I’ve missed out on slam into me like a boulder. I’m almost thirty-one years old and I’ve not done anything with my life. I’ve never even been to a bar. My birthday is next month, I’ll be over thirty, and I’ve never been on an airplane or a train. I haven’t gone on a camping trip or joined a softball team with friends. I have no friends. I literally have no life. Brandon thinks he saved me from a shitty situation, and maybe he has, but how do you go on existing when you don’t know how to live?
I’ve gone along with him. Opened up to him. We have fun together. We’re in a relationship. Happiness doesn’t begin to describe the way he makes me feel. I’m no longer a maid at a seedy motel. Instead, I’m . . . nothing. A part of me grew up way too fast while the other part is still an insecure eighteen-year-old girl.
Confusion whirls around in my head and panic rises up my throat. I grip the massage chair and breathe through my nose. My head becomes unusually light, and I rest it on the cushion, but it rolls off.
“Ma’am. Are you okay?”
I slowly nod and close my eyes. “Yeah. But I think I’m done.”
“Okay. Do you need something? Water maybe?”
Water sounds good. I’m so hot. “Please.”
The woman drains the tub, takes my feet out of the hot water, and immediately my body cools off. She returns with a bottle of water, and Charlotte on her heels.
“Are you okay?” Char comes up to me and feels my forehead; wrinkles adorn her face out of concern.
“Yes. Fine. Just got a little warm.”
“Can you get up and walk okay?”
I turn sideways in the chair and set my bare feet on the cool wooden floor. When I begin to put pressure on them, my knees wobble and Char grabs me.
“I’m fine. I’m fine.” My head is pounding and it takes every ounce of strength I have to slide my feet into my shoes and walk. “I’ll just step outside and get some fresh air. Go finish your hair.”
“No way. Let’s get you home. Do you want to go to the hospital?”
“God, no!” I yell a little too loud. “But if you’re ready, then we can go.”
“Are you sure you’re all right, miss?” The woman who was doing my nails hands me my coat.
“Yes. I’m fine. Too much pampering,” I joke.
Char and I walk to the car. She keeps an arm around me and by the time we get home, I feel better. My head isn’t throbbing anymore and the cold sweats have stopped. The thundering in my chest is still there, but I feel fine.
“Hey, did you guys have fun?” Travis is the first to greet us, smiling at his wife.
“We did until she almost passed out.” Char points her thumb at me and I glare at her.
“What?” Brandon pushes past his brother and holds my shoulders, examining me.
“I’m fine. I didn’t pass out. I just got a little overheated while I was getting my pedicure.”
Brandon doesn’t look convinced. “What happened?” he asks Charlotte, ignoring me.
“She was fine all day then I look over from where I’m getting my hair done and her face was pale and she had cold sweats. She looked like she’d just seen a ghost.”
Travis nudges Brandon out of the way and grabs my wrist. “Your pulse is elevated.”
I yank my arm away. “I’m fine. I don’t need you to play firefighter right now.”
His brows rise and he glances at Brandon.
“I’m sorry. That was rude.” I set my hand on Travis’ arm. “But honestly, I’m fine. I just got a little warm.”
“You sure, babe?” Brandon takes my coat and hands it to Char, who hangs it on the peg.
I look at him and pray to God that he can’t read my mind. Because everything inside me is screaming no, while I answer, “Yes.”