I nodded at her anger and let her words sink in. She compared me to him and I wondered if she thought I was just like him, if she thought I’d give in again and piss away the opportunity of a lifetime. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”
“I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to exchange insults.”
“I do. We need ground rules. Number one is us remembering who we are. If you say you’re not broken, I’ll try to remember that. Two is us trusting each other, and three is honesty. I want honesty and you should too.”
“Honesty doesn’t have to be mean, Jay.”
“In our case, it does.” I motioned toward the door to end the conversation. There was nothing left to say. “Let’s go before it gets too late.”
“Sure. I’ll call us a car.” I wondered if I should tell her that no car was going to come for us in a town of less than six thousand people, especially when I hadn’t booked a service for the trip. She scrolled through her app to look for a driver nearby.
She kept scrolling and scrolling.
Chuckling, I grabbed her phone. “Babe, we aren’t requesting a driver from thirty miles away. You’ll be here all night waiting. The bar’s down the street.” I walked out of our room and down the stairs.
She caught up with me, sputtering the whole way. “Jay, wait? Should I bring my bag?”
“No.” Her and that bag.
She didn’t listen; I heard her heels scurrying as she went to get it. “Jay, wait… are you kidding?”
“Kidding about what?” I said as I watched her come down the steps.
She huffed. “You must be kidding. I can’t walk all the way there in these shoes. They’re purposely made to be uncomfortable. I honestly believe the designer concocted them as a torture device.”
“You can’t walk all the way there? Woman, you are in shoes like that every day of your life. Why are you always wearing them if they hurt?”
“Because they go with the outfit.” She scrunched her face up like she was disgusted that I’d even asked.
I schooled my expression to be as serious as possible. “Do I need to carry you?”
“You’re an asshole,” she muttered and breezed by me out the front door.
I watched her walk with purpose ahead of me until she got to the end of the driveway. “Which way?” she yelled.
I ambled up to her. “I’ll drive us if your feet are going to hurt. Lorraine’s got a pickup in the garage if you really don’t want to walk.”
She breathed in loudly. “I’m just trying to get my bearings a little here. I’m on edge but it’s fine. I want to walk. I need to let off steam.”
I nodded and slipped the bag off her shoulder and onto mine. Then I slung my arm around her and fit her up against my side. When I did, she sighed into me. I whispered into her hair, “We’ll go, you can have a drink, we’ll give the town what they want, then leave. Everything’s going to be okay.”
I made the promise without knowing if it was true. I needed to believe it as much as her though. We were two broken pieces, trying our best to appear whole.
“I’m supposed to be telling you that, Jay. You’re supposed to be getting better here, not me.”
“Both of us together, Meek. We’re doing it together. I’m not letting this movie slip between my fingers and you’re going to figure out what you need without your boyfriend. If at the end of the day, you need him…” I shrugged. I couldn’t continue the statement because I wasn’t sure I could let it happen.
She nodded into my shirt and I hugged her closer as we walked. Her coconut lime shampoo mixed with the fresh summer air that reminded me I was back home.
In my town. And with her. I breathed it in deep.
The walk to the pub relaxed me, even though we bickered over her damn shoes. She insisted she was now comfortable, even after telling me the shoes were a torture device.
When we walked in, the woman beside me stiffened. This wasn’t her scene. The low ceilings and dark wood floors matched the mellow feel of the place. A bluesy track played from the one and only jukebox in the corner, and every single vinyl seat in the place was filled with familiar faces.
Some of them I was happy to see; others I could have done without.
Every head turned our way when Ray yelled out, “Jay Stonewood!’`