Vidalia

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Gunnar is a lying son of a bitch. A big lying liar who lied to me over and over again. He looks me right in the eye without caring about his lies. I ought to smack his lying face so hard he can never lie again.

But I don’t.

Instead of raging at him for lying, I let him apply sunscreen to my face.

Later when we go inside, Gunnar announces he has plans for the rest of our lives, and I don’t call him out on his bullshit. Well, I almost do. The words are right there on the tip of my tongue, but I never let them loose.

What do I want?

If I call out Gunnar on his bullshit, will that be the end of us? Should it be? Do I want to be with a man who would so effortlessly lie to my face?

Yes, yes, I do want to be with Gunnar despite feeling like an idiot for not confronting him over his lies.

We sit on the couch and stare at the TV for a long time before I end up excusing myself to go to the bathroom. Once alone, I sit on the toilet and think about the pictures I discovered on Gunnar’s phone while I searched his music earlier.

The guy from the alley has a nice smile. Who’d think the bad guy would look so chummy with Gunnar? He’s even in a picture with a pregnant Heidi. Though the photos were taken awhile back, the guy is clearly a member of their club.

Sure, it’s possible the guy turned against the club. But I know he didn’t. In my gut, I’ve always wondered about the timing of my walking into that alley at the exact moment for Gunnar to save me. I wanted to trust him and staying here is a vacation from my boring life.

Nothing changes how Gunnar made me think I almost died. Or how he kept me here based on lies. Or how he now thinks the next step is for us to move in together. Gunnar wanted me and figured he could break the rules to make it happen.

My tears startle me. I rarely cry. I’m not a sad person. I rarely get depressed. When things bother me, I shove them down deep inside me where bad thoughts go to die.

Now I cry because I don’t know what to do about Gunnar. If I let him get away with lying, am I a doormat? If I call him out on lying and lose him, will I always regret not keeping my mouth shut? Why does this one choice feel like I’m deciding the fate of the rest of my life?

Heidi warned me how he was spoiled. Maybe Gunnar really doesn’t know any better than to lie and cheat to get what he wants. Or maybe in his coddled thinking, he did me a favor by staging everything.

I sob into a plush towel to muffle the sounds. My tears no longer have a thing to do with his lies. Instead, they pour out of me because I know I won’t call him out. I can’t take the chance of losing something so right. Future Vi insists I keep my mouth shut. She refuses to suffer the regrets caused by Present Vi’s pride.

Washing my face, I see how red blotches fight with my freckles for dominance. There’s no hiding the fact that I’ve been crying.

Perhaps, Gunnar will realize why I’m upset, but he won’t admit anything. He’s proven himself incapable of showing me what’s behind the curtain. He wants his lies, and I’ve decided to allow them to live on. We both get what we want. Everyone is happy. My pride be damned.

I find the living room empty and hear Gunnar on the back porch listening to music. After a trip to the fridge to get a wine cooler, I join him on the bench.

“You’re angry,” he says.

“I thought you said you knew me.”

“Then you’re sad.”

“It’s been a strange few days.”

“Okay.”

I gulp the wine cooler and glance at him. Gunnar looks so huge next to me with his shoulders wider than I remember. Did my crying cause me to shrink?

“I’m saying yes to sex,” I say, exhaling slowly. “Later when I’m drunk, and I want to ride you like a steer, you’ll let me because you know I’m saying yes right now when I’m sober. You’ll understand that I’m nervous about my first time and the booze will help make me brave. Do you understand?”

Scratching at his head, Gunnar frowns. “Why does it have to be now when you’re clearly upset?”

“Because I don’t know how long I’ll remain at the house and I don’t know what’ll exactly happen after I leave. Heidi said your parents are coming home, and we don’t have much time. Why waste it?”

“We can wait.”

“Don’t tell me no,” I mutter, giving him a dirty look. “Not after your issues bled into my life and upended everything.”

“So, I can’t tell you how I feel? I have to do what you want?”

“Yes, you do because this won’t be your first time, and we both know you want me. This isn’t a big deal for you, but it’s a big deal for me, so I’m in charge of choosing. You’re in charge of making us feel good since I won’t know what to do.”

I chug more of the wine cooler, enjoying the burn as it slides down my throat. “Oh, and don’t yank my hair. I have a low tolerance for that. I once yelled at my nephew for doing it. I don’t want to claw out your eyes on instinct.”

Gunnar fights a smile. “I’ll be careful. Anything else?”

“If you don’t have a condom, you better get one. Or more than one. I don’t know how those things work, and I never cared enough to ask before. Don’t tell me now, though, because I’m nervous and listening to a sex ed course will freak me out. Just get what you need because I’ve never taken birth control, and I’m not ready to get pregnant.”

Taking my hand in his, Gunnar sighs. “The first time I saw you, I didn’t think you could be as beautiful as my eyes were telling me. Like I thought it was the lighting in the bar, but then you came over to talk to me, and I realized your pale skin and freckles were just as perfect close up. After that night, I still thought my mind was playing tricks on me. How could a woman make me feel like a silly bitch? Even with your hairnet at Walmart, you had me as nervous as a schoolboy.”

“Of course, I did,” I say, blushing behind my hair. “I’d tell you that I thought you were beautiful too, but I think we both know I wouldn’t be downing this wine cooler so quickly if you weren’t the best-looking boy I’ve ever seen. A lesser being wouldn’t have me in such a hurry.”

Gunnar’s smile makes me think he might really be as nervous as I am. I share his grin and rest my head against his strong arm. The alcohol is already numbing me to the earlier ugly feelings. Lies mean nothing once my brain goes fuzzy and my libido kicks into gear.