One. Two. Three. Four. Just ten more steps. I was going to make it in without getting caught. Ten more steps. Seven. Eight. Ni-
"Eva, don't sneak around the house. Come here!" Martha called out. Bruno woofed and gave me away. The idea was to leave the house unnoticed, so neither Martha nor Mom knew about what was up.
"I told you I'd take you with me, attaboy. Why'd you do that?" I asked, looking at him with teary eyes.
Maybe Bruno doesn't trust me enough. That could be the only explanation. If I were Bruno, I wouldn't trust me either. I was tired of being so unreliable that even my shadows don't follow me around.
"Turn the lights on, and stop sulking in the dark!" Martha yelled. Oh, that's why there are no shadows, there is no light. I couldn't decide which one was worse. Sadness makes you philosophical cause I don't remember thinking this deep about life in my third year of philosophy.
I hit the buttons, and then it struck me that I wasn't afraid in the dark room. Maybe, because of the glow stars. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Try not to remember dad. Don't. Don't. Damn. Tears pooled in my eyes. Dad's warm smile on a summer evening, the day we went to the beach, played on loop in my head, and then it all faded to pictures of mom kissing that asshole. Tears dripped down my cheeks as I stepped onto the patio while Martha drank her evening Chamomile Tea.
"I know you found out about Ron and your mom," Martha said, and I felt my face ashen.
"You knew about them?" I asked, and she nodded, taking another sip.
"Everyone does, Eva. They are the hottest couple on this street!" Martha said, and my mouth dropped open.
"Don't say a word!" I screamed in anger, not realizing I was crying a lot.
"Eva, come here, honey." She said, placing the cup on the table as she opened her arms, and I couldn't help but hug her back. It was how it has always been. I would come from school, counting steps till it was home, feeling lonely and scared, but Martha would pull me into a hug and whisper in my ears that it would always be right, as long as she was there. Mom was never around. She was always busy with the wine business. Dad seldom visited us during holidays, and now everyone was so far away- Dad, Mom, and Will. I always had Martha. I cried bitterly.
"Where have you been the whole day?" She asked, brushing her fingers against my hair.
"I was in the neighborhood," I said. Well, only a part of it was a lie. I was sulking at Ken's from nine to two till they kicked me out, saying I had to place an order or leave. I had eaten six pizzas since morning. I had no choice but to butt out. I spent the noon by Broken Reek, where I stopped by to de-stress. I was tired of everything.
"So Will was here? When?" Martha asked, and although I couldn't see her moon-shaped spectacles, I knew she was messing with me.
"No, he didn't. We met at Ken's." I said, and Martha chuckled.
"That's how you tell the truth. Now, do you plan on visiting Will tonight?" She asked, a little too excited. How much did she know?
"Who's telling you all of this?" I asked quizzically, pulling out of the hug so I could see the crow's feet near her eyes. I sat cross-legged on the patio and didn't mind getting my pants ruined.
"Will called." She said, pressing her lips into a grim line.
"So you know everything, then?" I asked, rolling my eyes.
"That depends on what your idea of everything is, darling." She said, and I watched her in disbelief.
Okay, so no more jokes. That could only mean one thing. Martha was telling me something important. Pay attention, brain. Ears, listen up. Tongues, stop rolling.
"Who makes it forever?" Martha asked, and I thought I had heard something wrong.
"What?" I looked at her wide-eyed.
"Who makes it forever?" She repeated herself, and I still couldn't understand where it was coming from and where it was going.
"True love?" I said, and she snorted a peal of laughter. I watched her intently before she said another word.
"What? That was such an absurd question."I said, complaining.
"You don't get it, Eva!" She said, and I itched the back of my head.
"There is no forever." She added. Oh, Crap.
"How is this relatable?" I asked, and she sighed.
"Why did you run away from Will?" She asked, her eyes directed straight into mine as if she was hunting for the answer right into my soul.
"Because I am afraid Will won't stay with me for-forever?" I said without thinking, and my lips quaked as I said the words, and Martha smiled. God!
"See, you always know," Martha said, smiling. In the back of my head, a triumphant Mikhail's image flashed with neon billboards saying-'told you so.'
"What do you mean?" I was a stuttering dumbo.
"You want to stay with Will. You are afraid you won't make it forever. Darling, you are so engrossed in those ideal love stories that you can't think of staying with your Prince Charming." Martha said, and the words struck me like a thunderbolt.
Too engrossed in ideal love stories that I am afraid to be with Will? How could I not see it! I always feared that Will would go far from me, just like everything else. The diary entries, the divorce papers, and the unsaid words. All of it stirred a storm within me that I was too afraid to see what was wrong with me. He was always there. He always stuck with me. Even when I gave up on us, he didn't. I gasped at the thought.
I wiped my tears and looked at Martha.
"You need to tell him that you love him, Eva. Or it would be too late. When you couldn't remember him, I have seen him ache. He had vowed to stay with you, and I mocked him for his foolishness. I guess I was wrong." She said, rubbing her eyes as she removed her glasses.
"He came here before?" I asked, finding an unsettling thought twirling in my head.
"Always, when he needed to," Martha said.
"Do you think I am-I don't know what to do," I said. It was just too much for a day.
"If you don't allow him to tell you the truth, how will you know? Speak to him. Tell him what you feel. Listen to him." She said, and I nodded.
I knew what I had to do. But what about Mom and Ron? My head spun at the thought.
"And about Jeanette... Don't worry about your mom. Ron and she both are adults, and no one knows better than you what it is to live a life of loneliness and pain.
I have to admit that they are perfect for each other. Ron keeps her sane, and she makes him feel responsible." Martha said as if she knew that the burdening thoughts were crushing me from the inside.
I cringed at the words. What about dad? Martha squeezed my hand, and I looked into her eyes.
"Eva, your mom doesn't need your approval to live her life. She wants your support, your love. Don't keep Jenny away from all of that. She has already lost a lot." Martha said as tears trickled down her green eyes.
"I am sorry, Martha. I am sorry for being selfish. I am sorry." I said, hugging her when Bruno woofed and sprawled on us.
"Get the damn dog away. Achoo-" Martha sneezed, and I took Bruno in my arms, putting him eight feet away from Martha.
News, Martha is allergic to dogs. Or so she thought. She'd let me keep Bruno on the condition that he would stay within an eight feet radius from her. I agreed. But it wasn't until Dr. Parker told me that Martha was allergic to pollen and not dogs that I didn't know she was pretending. Maybe, she doesn't like dogs. Weird, but okay.
"I will be going then!" I said, and Martha turned to me.
"Where are you off to at this hour? You just got here!" She yelled.
"I have personal errands to run," I said, my heart racing within my chest.
"Okay. Take care!" She screamed, and I accidentally waved the car keys at her. Fuck.
Her expressions changed from mildly upset to heavenly angered.
"What the fu- Get back here! Not my car!" She screamed, and I ran to the garage.
The engine turned on with a yank, and I drove straight to Paul's Bar. Liquid courage, here we come.
#
"The hoodie dork is back in a smurf sweater!" One of the men in the crowd yelled as I entered Paul's Bar.
"Oh, the one with a great ass!" Another one of them screamed. Bloody drunk assholes!
I looked questioningly at the bartender, and he shot me a spiteful glare. Okay, what did I do the other day? I blinked my eyes, pretending to be innocent.
"What are they talking about?" I asked, and the young man bit his lip as his lip ring shifted, gleaming under the low light.
"You aren't that crazy when you're sober. Eh?" He said, staring at me, and then his eyes rested on my boobs, and I mouthed him a 'what'...
"Nothing. Nice sweater." He said, filling two glasses as another man entered with a bunch of high school boys following him.
"Ugh, thanks, I guess. I will have a beer." I said awkwardly as the pack of high school-wannabe-jocks rounded against the table. Wow. I love company, but are they even allowed in here? I seem to forget something important, and the idea kicks inside my head, making me restless.
"Are you going to drink up alone?" The man said.
"Leave." He said, and the high school crew left the table, so I was sitting with this man who looked like he was in his late thirties. He wore flannel and worn-out denim pants.
"How are you doing today?" He asked, and I found myself foolishly smiling at him. Why? Because he had grey eyes. Way to get screwed!
"I am feeling terrible. Thanks for asking!" I said, and a chuckle escaped his lips.
"Sarcasm is sexy for certain. How's that 'Will' guy?" He asked, and I stared at him wide-eyed. Fuck. Did I blabber something last night? Something that everyone knows but should not?
"We shared something very intimate last night." He said in a slow whisper.
"What?" I asked cluelessly.
"Would you like me to refresh your memory?" He asked, his lips formed into a lopsided grin. Oh. No.
"Yeah?" I said. I need to know what I told him about Will.
"Okay then." He said, leaning in quickly as his lips laid pressed against mine. Fuck. Why was he kissing me?
"Get off me!" I screamed, hoping he would stop. But he doesn't.
I put my arms against his chest, trying to push him off me, but he was too heavy to budge. The crowd cheered. What the hell! When I tried shoving him off, his kisses became erratically wild. His tongue forcefully opened into my mouth, and from the amount of gritting and biting, I could feel the blood in my mouth.
I couldn't utter a word. Nobody helps me. The bartender only smirked, and I thought of Will.
A second later, the man slammed into the table. The chair knocked off as he banged against the wood. My eyes fell on the person who smacked his cheek so hard that his nose was bleeding. Green eyes. Black hair. Dragon tattoos. I might be dreaming, but could it be really him?
"She told you fucking get your hands off her." He yelled at the man, glaring at him as he took him by the collar. When I heard the coarse tinge of voice, I knew he was finally here.
"Kris? It's you, isn't it?" I said, and he shot me a disappointed look.
"What the hell are you doing here, Eva? It's not a place where girls roam alone!" He rolled his eyes moodily, and I pictured Martha doing the same when she painted a shade off from the petals.
"I was just here to get a drink, big bro. What are you doing here?" I asked, and he shrugged.
"I am here with my girlfriend and her friend." He said, and I nodded, shifting uncomfortably in my sneakers when his eyes twitched.
"You can't dodge my question, Eva. What are you doing here? Bonus points if it's the truth." He said, and I gritted my teeth. Fuck. I could taste the blood I convinced was mine; as I fought the urge to puke. How could he see through me? It's been a year and a half since I last saw him. At least that's how I remember it.
He was a typical Mellon who had inherited Martha's nosiness, my mother's cold glare, and my dad's punch-landing-tactics. Big brother Kris was Aunt Martha's foster son who was doted on by my parents a lot. I thought I had overgrown my dependence on him, but I was damn wrong. He stood there, looking at me as if I were the same old, naive little girl he had saved from cruel high school kids. Now, he had a girlfriend too?
He adjusted his hair as his fingers ran through his head. By the time he'd let go of the man's collar, everyone at Paul's was silent or just drinking an extra shot to un-sober the drama.
"Fuck off, now!" He yelled at the man as he stared at me. I smelled trouble.
"We are going to talk!" He said and sat at the table, and I gulped the lump in my throat.
"Mom told me you ran away with her car again." He said as the waiter stopped by at our table. I didn't even know he existed because for the last half an hour. I had not seen a single man with a uniform and badge.
"I can't help if no one's allowing me to drive my vehicle!" I whined, and he furrowed his eyebrows.
"That's because you're terrible on the wheel!" He said, snorting a laugh.
"I am not."
"Yes, you are!"
"I am not."
"Yes, you are."
"Maybe, I am." I sighed defeated.
"Nope. You're a disaster behind the wheels," He said, shaking his head, and I glared at him. One accident doesn't define anything!
"I didn't know you were back in town!" I said, taking a sip from my glass.
"I wasn't. I am here to meet up with my girlfriend. I don't want a long rant from Mom about how I won't visit her." He said, asking for another glass of whatever he was drinking.
I pulled my glass to my lips. The familiar burning of alcohol spreads against my tongue and down my throat as I drink it all in one go.
"Geez. When did you start drinking like that?" Kris asked, staring at me wide-eyed.
"Why?"I asked, batting my eyes.
"You've got issues, Evie," Kris said, his face stoic.
"Don't call me that. I don't." I said, denying the possibility.
"As if you are gonna agree with me, ever!" He said, rolling his eyes.
"Okay, okay. Who doesn't? It's not even a big deal!" I said, slamming my hand against the table. Fuck, this was becoming a habit now.
I hadn't talked with Kris like this for long. He was rarely around after dad passed, and then he'd never showed up at my graduation. The guts he had to look worried after all these years! Did we get close before my accident? Fuck. Breathe, Eva. Breathe. One...two...three...four.
"So, where's your girlfriend?" I asked when I ordered two more shots.
"She's on the way. This friend of hers is running a little late!" He said, whining as he flipped the screen on my face.
"Whatever, whatever," I said, focusing on my drink.
"Why did you pass out in the middle of the road yesterday?" He asked, and I choked on my spit.
"What?" I asked, coughing, and he chuckled.
"The word's around on Maple Street that a twenty-five-year-old nearly died when found unconscious on the road." He said, and I looked at him suspiciously.
"That could be anyone," I said, shrugging my shoulders.
"Jeanette called me! Mom whined about it for half an hour when I called her. How annoying, Eva!" He said, scrunching his nose. He looks cute doing that because let's face it- Kris is not intimidating. Only his punches are.
"Wow. Our mothers need to stop bitching about me!" I said when I heard a familiar giggle behind me. Oh boy.
~