Lila wanted sex. I said no.
Lila made me three shots in hopes that if I was drinking, I’d change my mind. When I refused those and got angry at her for making them, she kicked me out.
At that point, I was pissed enough that I wanted those shots. I drove around for a bit before I realized I was parked outside of a bar, my hand reaching for the door handle. Two more seconds and I would’ve opened the door, gone inside, and started drinking. Instead, I texted Idaline and hoped she could be the one to save my soul and that of my baby’s. Because if I don’t say sober, my baby’s soul is as doomed as I feel right now.
I felt like I was doing okay that first week, but ever since I messed up, it’s been harder than ever to ignore the thirst for tequila. If I’m not consistently busy, I’m thinking about tequila. I’m thinking about how good it would taste if a single teeny tiny drop would land on my tongue like falling rain in the spring. But I wouldn’t mind guzzling down a gallon of it either. I’m that damn thirsty for it.
My hands are trembling, my heart is pounding, and I’m tempted to put my car in reverse to leave the parking lot of Idaline’s apartment complex to find the nearest liquor store. But then, I see Idaline on her little front porch in the arms of Justin. Oh yeah, I need some tequila. If I don’t force myself to get out of the car now, that’s exactly what I’ll go get.
My door slams loud enough that they break apart and look my way. Maybe I’m delusional, but Idaline’s eyes light up as she looks me over. She leaves Justin to meet me halfway, throwing her arms around me. I hug her as tight as I can, never wanting to let go.
“Take a deep breath, Fabian Christopher. You’ll be okay,” she whispers.
I laugh at her name guess. “Good try, but nope.” Knowing Justin is standing only a few feet away, I release my hold on her, causing her to do the same.
She shrugs with a smile and faces him. “FC, this is my boyfriend, Justin. Justin,” Idaline links her arm around mine and beams a smile up at me. “This is FC. Now, y’all have officially been introduced. Justin stopped by to see me since I canceled our date, and he brought supper.”
My frown is forced, though my heart dances. “You didn’t have to cancel, Idaline. You don’t need to babysit me.” Although, she might actually need to do that.
“It’s fine.” She pats my arm. “I don’t see you as often and you need a friend tonight.” Her hand falls as she holds it out for Justin. “You can go on in; I’ll be there in a minute. I’m walking Justin to his car.”
I nod and avoid Justin as I walk past him. As I turn to close Idaline’s door once I’m inside the apartment, I catch sight of them again. Justin has a grip on the back of Idaline’s neck as he kisses her temple, her arms around his waist. I still don’t like him, but she seems happy with him. Happier than with others she’s dated. He whispers something and she laughs. I close the door before I can decide to walk right back out of here.
I drop my bag in the chair and fall onto the couch. Never did I expect to be this affected by Idaline and her life. We’re friends. Good friends. And then I had to kiss her and now, everything’s fucked and muddied in my head.
“FC?”
I blink and Idaline stands in front of me. I didn’t even hear her come in. “Yeah?”
“Are you hungry? Justin brought chicken sandwiches.”
“No, not right now. What do you have to drink?” When her eyes widen, I add, “If I wanted alcohol, I would’ve stopped and bought some on my way here, Idaline.”
She laughs. “Right. Want some tea?” When I nod, she hurries to fix me a glass. I take the it, thank her, and take a sip as she sits down all the way on the other end of the couch. She sat next to me before. Maybe she’s worried about any closeness now. “How are you feeling?” she asks.
“Like I could really use some tequila right about now.”
Idaline frowns. “Do you know what your triggers are?”
“What?”
“You know, things that make you want to drink. If you know your triggers, you could avoid or get rid of them to help you stay sober.”
I laugh. It’s a hearty laugh without even an ounce of humor. “I couldn’t do that for even half of them if I wanted to.” Lila’s a trigger. Her apartment is a trigger. Idaline with Justin is a trigger. The thought of my future and the weight of how I must do better for this tiny human coming in March is a trigger. I can’t get rid of any of those things unless I decide to walk out on Lila and I can’t do that to my baby. I won’t stop talking to Idaline either, so I’ll deal with her boyfriend.
Idaline walks on her knees over to me and wraps her arms around my neck. “I’m sorry you’re having such a hard time, FC. I wish I could do more to help.”
“You do plenty,” I reassure her quietly, lifting up my arm to hug her back. Her presence, whether physically or over the phone, or even in my own mind, helps me get through moments when I’m weak.
Idaline releases me and returns to her seat. There’s a tension between us that I’ve never felt before. I don’t like it at all. It’s not right. It’s not us.
“Should I worry about Grandpa McAllister coming over and kicking me out again?” I ask, hoping it lightens the tension.
I only get a small smile out of her. “No. You don’t have to worry about him.”
We fall back into this awkward silence that’s not helping. “Can we go somewhere? I don’t think I can sit here.”
Idaline jumps up as if she’s so glad we won’t be stuck in this apartment together. “Yes. Justin was planning to take me to the fair, but we’re going another night now. You know I love fairs, so we can go there.”
I stand as she runs around to get her purse and keys. Soon, we’re on our way as she drives us to the fair. “Did everything go okay with your grandpa that day?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Yes.”
“That doesn’t really match that shrug you just gave me.”
“Well, we talked about you.”
“Me?” I parrot with surprise. “Why would he want to talk about me?”
Idaline shrugs. “He doesn’t think I should let you come over. There’s no such thing as just friends between guys and girls for him, and considering you have a girlfriend and I now have a boyfriend, he thinks you’re a recipe for disaster.”
Huh. For me, he’s absolutely right, but I can behave, especially since for the foreseeable future, I can’t be with Idaline. I’m not sure what Idaline thinks about this. Does she agree with her grandfather? She certainly responded to the kiss, but anyone can kiss a guy back. “How come you let me come back if he doesn’t think you should?” I ask.
She briefly glances over at me. “You needed a supportive friend. That matters more than what he thinks.”
I don’t know if I should feel victorious or not. We arrive at the fair and I don’t have to think about it. Her phone goes off with a beep. “Sorry. It’s Justin, checking in on us.” While she texts him back, I guide her with a hand on her mid-back as we walk. It pisses me off a little that he’s checking in. He hasn’t long left her and if he didn’t stay so she can be a friend to me, then why the fuck is he going to bother us? Idaline gives me an apologetic smile once she tucks her phone away. It’s tempting to mention something about how maybe he’s the jealous type, but after the last boyfriend, I don’t think Idaline would get herself into another situation like that.
Idaline takes a deep breath as we walk past the entrance. “I love this.”
She really does. There’s no telling how many times she’s told me about how she was going to a fair over the years. It doesn’t matter what the fair is for, she’s there. She loves the atmosphere, the vendors, and the games.
She stops by one booth where baseballs are thrown in order to win a prize. “Okay, FC, my former baseball pitcher, win me that monkey.” She points to the ugliest stuffed animal I’ve ever seen. It’s blue and hairy all over with an extra fluff of hair on his head. His face, though, is what makes him ugly. He’s already missing an eye and his smile is lopsided and creepy.
“I haven’t thrown a ball in years, Idaline,” I say even as I pull money out of my wallet.
“It’s like riding a bike. You can do it. I have complete faith in you.”
Before I let the man take my money, I ask, “What do I have to do to win the ugly monkey?” Idaline slaps my arm at calling her prize ugly, but I groan because he tells me I have to win three times in a row to win it. Idaline gives me another word of encouragement as I roll my shoulders to loosen up. Hopefully, she’s right and this is just like riding a bike.
With a quick breath, I make my first throw and hit the target exactly like I should. Idaline squeals with excitement, clutching the back of my shirt. I grab another ball and move on to the next target. One down, two to go. I surprise myself by hitting the targets each time, winning her the ugly monkey.
“Thanks, FC. You know I’m terrible at these games. You’d think I’d get better after all these years, but I don’t.”
“You’re welcome. Where to next?”
She leads me to a ring toss, in hopes that I can win her a fish. “You know,” she begins quietly, “maybe you should take up running or exercising.”
I glance at her in confusion in between my tosses. “Why?”
“You told me you smoked because of what it did for you. I’m assuming it gave you like a release. Maybe you should find something else, like exercising, that will help you find a healthier release to keep you from returning to your bad habits. You could attend meetings, too.”
No. Way. In. Hell. My grimace is answer enough as the lady comes over and hands a bag with a fish in it to Idaline, but unfortunately, she’s more focused on me right now. I place my hand on her lower back and lead her away from this game. “No, Idaline. I’m not spilling my guts about my problems to a room full of people. That won’t help me.”
“It might,” she tries.
“No,” I snap.
She doesn’t even flinch or seem hurt about my sudden influx of anger toward her. “What about a private counselor?”
I’m sure that will help me get custody of my kid. As soon as I think it, I dismiss it. Counseling does good things for people who want it and it might actually help me because I did reach out for help. If it does help, then I can prove that, too. I’m sure a counselor could help me with much more than my drinking problems, too. Idaline watches me with such hopeful eyes. She only wants to help. She only wants what’s best for me. I rest an arm over her shoulders. “Maybe,” I finally answer her. I want to talk it over with my parents to make sure I’m making the right decision and I need to make sure I can hide these appointments from Lila.
Idaline beams a smile at me. “I can accept a maybe.” She looks down at her fish. “His name is Mr. Fish. You should say hello.” She holds the bag up for me to see what I think is a betta fish. What happened to plain old goldfish?
“Hello,” I say to appease her. “How do you know it’s a mister?”
She shrugs. “Because I say so. Come on. We need cotton candy.” When I sigh as she drags me along, she says, “I know, FC. You hate cotton candy, but I’m sure there will be something there that you do like.”
She gets cotton candy, and because I haven’t had supper, she talks me into a burger and a funnel cake. Her stupid boyfriend texts her again and she’s all too happy to give him another update on our outing.
“We’ll have to go to the store for supplies and a home for Mr. Fish when we leave,” she says while we sit and eat.
“Why couldn’t you come up with a better name than Mr. Fish?” I ask.
“Says the man who won’t even tell me his own name.” She looks horrified for a second. “Does Lila know? I’ll kill you if she knows and I don’t.”
I laugh. “She doesn’t know.” Although she will if she ever looks at our baby’s future birth certificate.
Idaline points at me with her cotton candy. “Girlfriend or not, I’ve known you way longer, and I deserve to know before her. Don’t make me be sneaky and find out.”
“I’m sure I can crawl through online birth records until I find all the Hart babies born in Wake County whose first names start with F and middle names starts with C.”
My muscles tense a bit. She has definitely thought about this before. “Do you already know my name, Idaline?”
She shakes her head. “No. I have more fun guessing, but I’ve been more than tempted a few times to look it up. I’d much rather guess or have you tell me.”
I relax, realizing that’s exactly how I’d prefer her to find out as well. It’s not that big of a deal, but we’ve been at it for twelve years with her trying to correctly guess my name. She’s never come close. Since I haven’t talked to her much, I decide I really need to check in on her. I force myself to ask about the last thing I want to think about. “How’s it going with Justin?”
Fuck me, she smiles immediately. “Really good,” she says. “He’s like this calming, but fun presence in my life. And yes, my head is okay. Mostly. I’m still having nightmares.”
“Nightmares?” I interrupt. She hasn’t said anything to me about nightmares.
Her hand reaches up to her neck and I immediately know what her nightmares are about. “I thought I told you,” she says with a frown. “Nightmares about Daniel.” Her eyes stray and she tenses until I’m not even sure she’s breathing anymore. “Can we go?” she spurts out. “We should get Mr. Fish settled.” Not once does she look at me.
I glance over my shoulder, but I only see lots of people. “What’s wrong?” I ask her.
“I don’t want to be here anymore.” Idaline stands without waiting on me. I hurry to grab our trash, toss it, and run after her. Tears now run down her cheeks. I don’t understand what just happened. She hurries to open her car door and gently sets Mr. Fish down while opening the back door to throw in her monkey.
I grab her shoulders and pull her shaking body into my arms. “What’s the matter, Idaline?” I whisper in her ear.
Her voice cracks as she replies, “I don’t know. Panic just swept over me and I felt like I was being closed in.”
“All right. Well, now we’re away from all the people and you can take deep, relaxing breaths.” My hand glides up to cup the back of her neck. I can feel her pulse thumping like the beat of a drum beneath my thumb. Her breaths are unsteady and erratic against my chest. All I can do is hold her as tight as I can until her mind and body realize she’s not in any danger, that there’s no reason to panic. “Almost there,” I reassure when her breathing matches mine. It’s just her heart that’s still going nuts at this point.
“Close enough,” she says. “Will you drive us to the store? I can give directions.”
“Of course.”
She gets into the passenger seat and gently holds the bag containing Mr. Fish in her hands while I maneuver us out of the parking lot. Nothing about tonight, even when I was back in North Carolina, has gone as planned, but I can’t say I’m going to complain about it tomorrow.