Tegan

I swallowed my food and wiped my mouth. “I don’t know if I like this game.”

Bradley looked at me and laughed. “It’s not a game, it’s called being human. Abstract thinking and our ability to communicate are a few of the things that separate us from animals. Answer the question.”

“But this stuff’s personal.”

He pushed his plate to the side. “Personal?” He let out a long laugh. “Excluding my mother, you’re the only person who’s wiped my ass. Except for me, of course. And, you and one other woman have seen my cock. That’s it. So, we’re connected on a weird personal level. Answer the question.”

I thought what he said was adorable. Adorable, but unbelievable. “Only two?”

“My cock?”

“Yeah. That.”

He leaned forward. “Back when I was a kid, we didn’t have cell phones. We didn’t take fuckin’ selfies or post shit on Facebook. There wasn’t a Twitter and we couldn’t find new recipes on Pinterest. Hell, we didn’t even have computers. Needless to say, we didn’t text people pictures of our dicks, tits, or whatever we were fuckin’ eating for lunch. I met Deann, and I fell in love. There wasn’t much need – or opportunity – to show anyone else my cock.”

I started laughing.

He looked at me and grinned. “You going to tell me you’ve never received a picture of someone’s dick on your phone? Remember, I raised the circus clown.”

I caught my breath and shook my head. “I’m not going to tell you that.”

“Good looking girl like you? Hell, you’ve probably seen more dicks unwillingly than Marilyn Monroe saw on purpose.”

I laughed again. “Probably.”

“Imagine what it’d be like if you’d only seen one,” he said. “Or none. Or if the first one you saw was the guy you married.”

“Kind of cool thinking about it, really.”

He shook his head and sat up straight. “Cell phones and the internet have ruined modern society.”

“They’re useful for a lot of things, though.”

“They damned sure are. If they’re in the hands of responsible men and women, that is. But they’re also tools for irresponsible people to become even more irresponsible. Fuckin’ child molesters, pedophiles, stalkers, internet bullies, computer hackers. Christ, I could go on for days.”

He relaxed, and then reached for his chest. As he winced in pain, I stood up.

“That wasn’t indigestion,” I said.

His jaw went tight and his eyes pinched closed. After a few seconds, he relaxed again. “It sure was. That fucking lettuce is killing me.”

“Was it really?”

He opened his eyes, and then gave a dry response. “Yeah.”

“I’ll leave the lettuce off next time. Did you like the cheese? It was different, huh?”

He grinned. “You’re unique, kid. You really are.”

“Thank you.”

“You know why I say that?”

“Why?”

“Well, I’ll tell you. When you’re asked a question that you don’t want to answer, you start talking about something else. Your ability to make the transition seamlessly is remarkable. I start a conversation about why you’re single, and the next thing I know, we’re off talking about Havarti cheese. Most wouldn’t even realize you didn’t answer the question in the first place.”

“Did you like the cheese?”

He wrinkled his brow. “Why don’t you have a man in your life?”

I sat down. “Long or short answer?”

“What time is it?”

I looked at my watch. “12:45.”

“Let’s go with the long one.”

A sigh escaped me. “Here goes.”

“I’m listening.”

I took a deep breath, and then began. “My dad left, and when he did, he took a piece of my heart with him. I grew up wondering if it was something I did, or if maybe it was that he just didn’t love me. I wanted to fix it, but I couldn’t. By the time I was a teenager, I found myself trying to fix everyone else because I couldn’t fix my own life.”

“What do you mean, fix everyone else?”

“My boyfriends. I found myself more attracted to the bad boys, and I tried to fix them. Deep down inside, I really don’t think I wanted them to be fixed, though. I liked them more than the nice boys. The problem was that most of those kinds of boys were abusive, and abusive relationships never last.”

“Well, at least you had the common sense to leave them.”

Somehow, I managed to laugh a dry laugh.

“I didn’t leave one of them. That’s not what girls like me do. We stay much longer than we should. Most of us stay in abusive relationships until we’re so beaten and battered that our boyfriend’s in jail. And then, we’re standing there waiting for him when he gets out.” I forced a smile. “No, they left me.”

He looked up. Sorrow covered his face. “Did you love any of them?”

“I thought at the time I loved them all, but I didn’t. There was one I did, though.”

“Was he abusive to you? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“It’s okay.”

I didn’t like talking about what happened, so I keep my response as brief as possible. “He wasn’t. He was the only one who wasn’t abusive.”

“And he was your only love?”

“He was.”

His eyes lit up. After a few seconds, he grinned. “Did he love you?”

“He did.”

“What happened to him?”

I should have known he would ask. I tried to take a deep breath, but couldn’t. The pressure in my chest increased with each heartbeat until I thought I was going to burst. Thinking about it was painful, and talking about it was impossible. I hadn’t thought about it for years, and in the last two days, I’d mentioned it twice.

Avoiding lengthy responses with Pee Bee was easy. With Bradley, it would be impossible. He would pry and pry until he got what he wanted.

A response was necessary.

It was the price I paid for allowing people into my life, I supposed. I gazed beyond him, and into the small landscaped area in the back yard. “He uhhm. He didn’t work. He hustled for his money. You know, made a little here, a lot there. But he always provided, so I never asked. He didn’t use drugs, if you’re wondering. So, we’d been together for a few years, and I was in college, studying for my nursing degree. Back then, I lived in a house, not an apartment.”

I paused, remembering the night the police crashed into our home.

“He had this friend, Josh, who I never liked, by the way. I wouldn’t let him in the house. Ever. That was my rule. We had another rule. We never lied to each other. That’s where the evasive responses come from. I think I picked it up from him. Sometimes he’d talk in a circle to keep from lying to me.”

I took a shallow breath. My soul ached. What happened wasn’t my fault, and I knew it. But, I was forced to live with my memories of the time we were together, which included his execution of the crime.

“We were in bed one night. Sleeping. The police came through the windows, through the walls, and through the front door. They uhhm. They drove one of those things through the side of our house.”

I took a short, choppy breath and although I didn’t want to, continued. “They took him away, and other than one visit in jail, I haven’t seen him since.”

It wasn’t enough. I wanted it to be, but it wasn’t. He would certainly ask. I needed to finish the story.

My eyes fell to the floor. I couldn’t look at Bradley.

At least not yet.

My stomach soured. I pressed the heels of my palms against my ribs and struggled to swallow.

“Did you hear about that family in Escondido? Two uhmm. Two years ago? It was in June. The 16^th. That was the day that uhhm…that it happened. There was…it was three…three kids…and their…both parents. Somebody…”

I exhaled. Along with it, part of my soul escaped me.

“They were…Somebody uhhm…”

My mouth had gone dry. Continuing wasn’t going to be easy. My lower lip was quivering. I bit into it and spoke softly through the corner of my mouth.

“They had all been…”

It was all I could say. I let out a breath and then looked up and met his gaze. His eyes were red and swollen. One of my shoulders shrugged. Kind of. I wanted to be done.

He nodded.

I needed to say it anyway.

“That. That uhhm. That was him. Him and Josh.”

My head nodded a few times, even though I didn’t want it to. I think it was trying to remind me that it really happened.

He reached across the table. “I’m sorry.”

I gently squeezed his fingertips.

“Yeah.” I wiped my cheek against my upper arm. “Me, too.”