NATE
I tilt the beer up to my lips and nod my head in agreement with House. I completely understand why he’s a miserable old fuck. I actually respect it. Life is definitely easier when you only have to worry about yourself.
Unexpectedly, the sound of my apartment door opening paralyzes my movements.
It’s the middle of the fucking school day. It can’t be Ainsley. I haven’t seen or spoken to her in three weeks. She didn’t text the first few days, but she reached out during the next week. As tempted as I was to reply back, I didn’t. Instead I shouted profanities and threw my phone against the wall. Took a couple days before I even decided to get it fixed. I almost had them change my number so I wouldn’t get any more messages from her or my parents.
Holden strolls around the corner in his typical jeans and black t-shirt with his computer case slung over his shoulder. He gives me an immediate scowl. “You’re fucking day drinking now? Your liver not hate you enough already?”
With a shrug, I have another sip. “It’s one beer.”
He nods his head at the empty bottles crowding my coffee table.
“Those aren’t from today.”
He sarcastically nods. “Much better…”
“I think it is.” Hitting the pause on the remote, I bite, “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be fucking working? Stalking bad guys and making the world a better place by putting away one perv at a time?”
Holden drops down on the couch closer to me than I like.
“Space, Bro.”
“You’ve had plenty of space,” he clarifies, moving bottles out of his way on the coffee table. Once he’s cleared an acceptable area, he places his case down on it, but snaps, “I swear to the Cyber Gods, Bro, if a drop of beer lands on Beauty I will end you.”
I give my head a scratch in discomfort. “Why the fuck are you bringing Beauty out?”
“Because you’ve sat around moping like a bitch long enough,” he grouses as he pulls out his laptop. “You know after the incident back in college, you…you became a completely different guy. You were harder to talk to. Fuck, you were harder to enjoy being around, but we all swore you’d snap out of it eventually. That one day you’d be the old Nate, just a little smarter.” He turns the machine on and it begins to load. “Then years passed and it was like fuck, this is just who you are now. We couldn’t even blame you because you had almost died and we couldn’t blame you because we all carry fucked up shit from our past, so what give us the right to tell you how to fucking handle yours.” At that moment he looks up to meet my stare. “But then this bubbly little brown skinned hot piece of ass came along and brought you back to life, bro. You think it was just you whose life she changed? It was all of ours. For the first time in like eight years you were you again. We were…us again. We were the bros we used to be for longer than a Christmas celebration. And we made a pact at the beach house that no matter what happened we wouldn’t let you be the same boring as fuck zombie you had become. So here I am. Snapping you out of this shit.”
His lecture makes me grunt my annoyance. “Who the fuck do you think you are? None of you get to fucking tell me how deal with my problems. My entire life is fucked up! My father’s fucking some escort in a hotel every couple of weeks, my mother has no fucking clue, my ex-girlfriend was playing me for some asshole who can barely grow his fucking pubes, and because I was too fucking stupid not to bang a student, I fucked up my teaching career and got fired from the top private school in the state.” I slam my beer bottle down on the edge of the table. “Don’t sit here and give me some well-rehearsed get your shit together speech. This isn’t just about a break up. This is my entire life falling apart.”
Holden smiles in response.
The action irks me harder. “What the fuck are you smiling about?”
“You know the secret satisfaction I get when I prove I’m really fucking good at what I do?”
“Yeah.”
He winks, turns back to his computer, and begins typing. “Let’s start at the beginning with your father.” It only takes a couple clicks before several surveillance photos appear on the screen. Each one has my father in the lobby of the hotel we found him in with a different woman. “Your father’s been fucking around on your mother for years, Nate. He’s been using The Dollhouse services for the last four-” He clicks something else and corrects himself, “Make that five years.”
“How do you-”
“Side job,” he casually answers. “I handle some of the security and ‘security’ knowledge for a beautiful price as well as for reports about any clients who have…’specific’ tastes.”
Underage girls and boys. Those looking to buy women instead of just screw them.
Unsure of what to say, I let my body sag against the couch cushion.
“Your father’s far from a saint, Nate. He really doesn’t deserve the amount of anger you’re pumping into him. You’ve never liked him. He’s never done more than toss money at you to keep you from following in his steps. And I bet he was only doing that so you wouldn’t see how dirty and crooked his footsteps really were.” Holden swings his face to look at mine. “Now, you don’t wanna tell your mother? Understandable. He’s not gonna tell her willingly, so here’s what I’m going to do for you.” He reaches into a side pocket and pulls out a flash drive. “Copies of these photos. Tell him you have proof of his affairs. Tell him he tells her or an anonymous person,” his finger points to himself, “will be sending her photos along with a video recording that you should be thankful I didn’t show you. Your old man’s ass is hairy.”
I gag at the description.
“This puts everything on the table, gives you a clear conscience about holding onto this secret, and leaves you relatively clean in the possible disassembly of your parent’s marriage.”
One word sticks out too strong to be ignored. “What do you mean possible disassembly? Once she finds out it’s over.”
He gives me a sympathetic expression. “Sorry to be the one to break this to you bro, but I highly doubt it. I’ve seen this shit a million times. CEOs. Politicians. Lawyers. Doctors. Wives find out, but rather than give up a lifestyle they love, they learn to look the other way…”
And my Stepford wife mother fits right alongside those women. Huh. What are the chances if she were to find out it would truly change anything? What if on some level she already knows? What if this is why she’s constantly altering her appearance and has mastered the art of agreement with everything he says? What if this is why she’s always so desperate to have me over for dinner? So, for just a few hours she can feel normal? Feel like he loves her as she plays the motherly role?
“Do whatever you want with this information.” He hands the small object to me. “But stop holding onto guilt. It’s not your fucking marriage, bro. It’s theirs.”
The valid point bounces around my brain like a lost basketball.
“But that note brings me to your own relationship,” Holden sneers, attention back to his computer. With a few pushes of the keys the photos disappear and new ones appear in their place. The screen is overwhelmed with photos of Ainsley and I. Photos I remember taking. There are selfies from our few outings in Cliffsworth. Stolen moments from around the apartment. An overwhelming amount from my birthday weekend. The sight of them all clustered together chokes my vocals chords. Fuck, I miss her. “You see that Josh fuck head was telling the truth. None of these photos are on Ainsley’s phone. They’re on her personal laptop, in an encrypted file. Nothing fancy, obviously, but definitely more secure than her password protected phone, which can be cracked with the help of a simple website or two online.”
Silently, I stare at the photos, the pain in my chest spreading.
“She was smarter than you wanted to give her credit for.”
“But not smart enough to keep that fucking video off of her phone.”
“That video was pretty hot considering it had so much of your ugly mug in it,” he chuckles, but I don’t. “And she didn’t have that video on her phone. She had it in an email in her unemptied trash folder. That kid was bluffing. I’m assuming she sent it to herself from one of your email accounts, downloaded it at home, and then deleted the message, but didn’t bother emptying her trash.”
As the realization Josh played me for a fool settles on my shoulders my so called best friend smiles wider.
“Manipulative asshole, I give him that. He set you up, but Ainsley is innocent.” He doesn’t bother giving me a moment to retort. “And I read the texts between them. He has been hounding the fuck out of her, but all of her answers were short. Simple. And after a certain point, she politely even asked him to keep it to just about school crap. He’s apparently a moron. Pretty sure without Ainsley’s help he’d be flunking English Lit.” I wanna ask him did he really look up the guy’s grades, but I don’t. “You were wrong to lose your shit on her without giving her the chance to defend herself. That mistake is all on you.”
My fingers rake themselves across the scruff growing along my jaw.
I fucked up. Even when I thought I wasn’t doing exactly what that asshole wanted by admitting to nothing, I did what he wanted by ending things with her. By giving up. By freeing her from me and opening the door for him walk through. Fuck!
Holden beams proudly. “It’s finally clicking in about what a dick you are, right?”
I reluctantly nod.
“Yeah, well, it’s overdue,” he announces, clearing the screen. “And as far as your teaching career being ruined? Take that shit as a sign to stop chasing something you don’t really fucking want and get back into what it is you love to do. For the love of God call that woman Wyatt mentioned and go for it. Or if you don’t wanna work on some biopic about a skater or surfer-”
“Snow boarder.”
“-then at the very least apply for that job at McCormick and McCordick you’ve been stalking for the past month.”
Temptation to snap at him for watching my internet history starts to run rampant when another idea hits me. A better one. A way to pave the path for penance.
“Keep living life like you were when Ainsley reminded you how to do it.”
The ache in my chest returns, but I nod my head. “You’re right.”
“Of course I’m fucking right.”
I roll my eyes and ask, “Can you do me a favor?”
He lifts his eyebrows.
“Can um….can you check Ainsley’s internet search history for me?”
“Just talk to her,” Holden sighs. “You wanna know what she’s been up to without you around, just fucking ask.”
“That’s not it, asshole. I um….I wanna send her something, but I need it to be the right one.”
Intrigue coats his face. “I’m listening…”
It only takes a moment to explain to him what it is I’m looking for. It takes the exact same amount of time for him to find it. After he sends me a quick email with the information, he shuts his computer down, and begins to pack up.
A little surprised by his decision to leave so quickly, I joke, “So that’s it? You just came by to say ‘Fuck you, Nate. You’re wrong about everything.’ and leave?”
Holden laughs as he nods. “Yeah. Pretty much.”
I shake my head. “What if this wouldn’t have worked?”
“I knew it would.”
“What if it hadn’t? What if I refused to believe any of that shit or even refused to listen to it?”
He swings his laptop case strap over his shoulder. “Then it would’ve been Pax’s turn for a visit and he would’ve beat the fuck out of you until you couldn’t move, so then you had no choice but to listen.”
The idea of a boxing match with Pax makes me shift in discomfort.
I’m not a fucking pussy despite what my bros believe, but I’ve seen Pax knock the shit out of people for crossing us wrong and it’s never ended well. Sometimes I wonder if he was originally led to law because he needed to know how to legally avoid ending up behind bars for beating someone half way to hell.
“I’ve gotta go interview a new nanny,” Holden groans. “Wish me luck.”
Knowing he wouldn’t even approve of someone as perfect as Mary Poppins, I simply offer him a wave goodbye. “Good luck, bro.”
Once the door shuts, I take a moment to drink in the state of my apartment, the state of my life. With collections of beer bottles on the table, dirty clothes spread out on the floor, and take out containers littered all around, I shut my eyes in disgust. Life doesn’t have to be this way. Just because a tragedy strikes doesn’t mean I have to become someone I’m not. It doesn’t mean I have to give up everything I fucking want. It doesn’t mean life has to be over. I can pick up the pieces better this time. I know it.