A Toast to Starry Nights (39 page)

Wow. He certainly put some thought into
that.

“I don't like being compared to my
mother any more than you like me referring to earning Oscars.” I gestured to
the now-closed notebook and my flower pen of power. “You know, I'm emotionally
tapped out tonight. Think I'm going to go crash. Goodnight.” I'm not
irresponsible. I'm not a flake. I am not like my mother. As much as I love her,
damage was done. Had my grandparents not stepped in and got me away from the
chaos my mother and stepfathers kept creating, I don't know what would have
happened to me. Whenever Willow would get on a bender, Grampa was there to
whisk me away to the ranch until she sobered up enough to be a mother. Got to
the point I just stayed out there. For
years
.

Should I ever raise a child, you can bet
your ass I won't be pounding Prince Valium and Jose Cuervo in a menage a tois.
For Dmitri to insinuate I'm like Willow--
very
not cool.

Dmitri said nothing as I got up and left
the too-crowded office and meandered to the bathroom for a long shower. After
drying off and donning a black cotton knee-length chemise, I snatched a pillow
and lightweight blanket so I could crash on the couch.

I bypassed Dmitri when he walked into
the bedroom. “Where you going?”

Slowly I turned around and told him what
I thought. “I don't think I'm going to sleep much better tonight that I have
for the past week. I don't want to keep you up again, so I'm crashing out here
tonight. Good night.” Resumed walking to the living room.

Dmitri didn't say a word.

Chapter Twenty-

As anticipated, I didn't sleep worth a
shit. Everytime I closed my eyes, either an Irish nightmare or words with
Dmitri would creep into my mind. Screw this. Made my way to the office and
collected my laptop. Went back to the living room and decided to put my nervous
energy to good use.

Jet emailed her edit of my novel to me,
and I put her suggestions to use. By glow of the laptop screen I crafted my
tale. By three a.m, my eyes began to blur and my yawns derailed the late night
train of thought. I accomplished less than I hoped, but progress no matter how
small, is a good thing. With a sigh, I curled up on the couch and slept.

Dmitri woke me up with a kiss on my
cheek right before he left. “I'll see you after work,” he said.

Mostly asleep, I responded, “Okay. Love
you.”

With a kiss to my forehead this time,
Dmitri responded with “Love you too.”

I awoke at noon, ready to tackle the
day. After dressing and binge-cleaning, I sat down with my laptop plugged into
the wall and began a new assault on Le First Draft.

Dmitri arrived home from work that
evening a little bit later than usual. I was still on the couch, laptop
a-blazing as I worked on polishing my tale of biblical vampires. The fight
scene in France poured excitement. My intrepid protagonist watched as her
husband of a week slew the dark vampires his ex-companion created as a
honeymoon gift when Dmitri's voice broke through and alerted me to life's
latest quirk.

“Heya babe. I'm going out for a while
tonight. I'll be back around eight or nine.”

“Whatcha got planned? Baseball with the
boys?” My curiosity was piqued. Anything worth mentioning was generally
mentioned in the morning... not while he walked through the door. Something
came up. I wanted to know exactly what it happened to be.

“Just catching coffee with an old
acquaintance I bumped into today.”

Now I was really curious. “Anyone I
know? Or know of?” Blasts from the past can be amusing.

He opened his mouth to speak then shut
it with a snap. Again and again he tried to tell me yet cut himself off before
a word could sneak past his lips. He didn't want to tell me. That didn't sit
well. The policy of blunt honesty he and I followed seemed to work so well up
until now.

“Just spit it out, Dmitri. If it's some
bad influence from back in the day, don't worry about it... just spit it out.
I've never known you to have a loss of words about anything. Now I'm dying to
know who you're gonna hang with.”

“Lorryn asked me out for coffee. She
came into the shop because she heard good things about the quality of my work
and she wants me to take a look at a place she bought up out of Forest Ranch.”

It took a solid thirty seconds for it to
soak into my mind sufficiently to form an answer. “'The Lorryn? Lorryn 'I'm
batshit crazy' Clairbeck? She hit you up so she could hire you to work out at
her new place? And you're entertaining the prospect? Are you insane?”

“No. Quite rational, really. I know you
don't like her, Kaylis, but people can change for the better. It's only a cup
or two of coffee... in full view of the public. Nothing to get in a tizzy
over.”

“You can't be friends with her, Dmitri.
I hesitate ever to dictate whom someone can and cannot associate with... but
her... no, not ever. And lest you think I'm jealous or otherwise bitchy, let me
state for the record I am not. I am basing this request off the history of
whenever she comes into the picture, your head gets fucked. Never again.
Inviting her into your life again is like inviting a Greek tragedy to dinner...
and we're over and done with that drama, right? This is not a rodeo you want to
ride in, hunny. You want me to start getting a cup of joe with Moobs? Cuz
that's kinda how I view it. She's poison... step away from the Koolaid, Dmitri.
It's for your own good.” Just because she didn't hit him doesn't mean that she
wasn't abusive. She and Mike were two peas of different genders. Manipulators
and liars.

“You've got my ring on your finger and
my heart in your hand. You're already have Jet getting ducks in a row for the
wedding. I'm yours... I realize I haven't undergone the banding ceremony and
been released back into the wild yet, but trust me on this. She holds no appeal
in that way anymore. Why are you scared of her?”

“I'm not scared of her. She's just bad
news, any way, shape or form. Inviting her into your life is to invite shit you
could live without and that's a fact. And you promised me you wouldn't speak to
her again. I am holding you to it.”

“I don't tell you whom you can associate
with, Kaylis. You're not giving me much credit, either.” His voice had grown
tight and lost the richness it usually held when addressing me. It matched the
stern set of his mouth.

“That's because you know when I'm done
with someone, it's usually forever. Fuck second chances, it's just a guarantee
for heartbreak. She's a text-book example. Besides, I'm not telling, I'm
politely requesting. Why the hell would you want to ever talk to or accept work
from someone who screwed you over repeatedly, someone who you've sworn off? You
are too nice, Dmitri. Way too fucking nice to someone who did nothing but rip
your heart out and bend you over a log without the benefit of lube.” I sighed
mentally. I did not need to be channeling Jet during this conversation.

It was apparent I pissed him off. “You
gave me a second chance. You saying you're guaranteed heartbreak with me? Is
this a part of that train wreck you mentioned?” His hands were on his hips as
we stubbornly went toe to toe from across the living room. I had no desire for
him to get tangled up in the slightest with the woman who broke his heart more
than once. Every time those two renewed their acquaintance, he'd get wrapped up
with her and that brand of drama... and when she'd spurn him, he'd turn back to
me for comfort and ego stroking. I gladly bestow those upon him, but it's so
much more pleasant when she wasn't involved. He deserved much better.

Plus he
promised
me. Swore to me,
even.

“No, I don't think I'm guaranteed
heartache with you, but we have a much healthier dynamic than you and she ever
did... I don't want her fucking with you again. You protected me from Mike,
I'll protect you from Lorryn. Equal is good, Dmitri. She's just gonna run you
through the ringer again.”

His eyes narrowed and looked as icy as a
snowstorm. “You don't need to remind me what she's done.”

Oh yeah, I bet he'll never forget her
scamming four hundred bucks from him back in high school when he accepted no
money from his family as he forged his own way in the States. After they hooked
up for the last time, she claimed he knocked her up and needed money to get an
abortion before her deeply religious parents found out. Instead she blew it at
the mall. He found out and that was it for him. Yeah, I bet he'd never forget
that. Or when he forgave her after a few years and had hopes of tracking me
down with her help – which she totally squashed. She told him I wasn't
interested in talking to him again, and it wasn't until she sent a chain letter
to both he and I that gave him the opportunity to track me down to apologize.
Last time we talked about it, he was still bitter about her cockblocking him in
regards to me. So when Dmitri swore her off because he disdained the drama, I
took him seriously. Why the hell does he want to talk to her now? Not cool.

He continued on his explanation, as if
it'd really make the thought of him willingly seeing her again any better. “I
prefer to think that people can change and potentially even grow up and mature.
I'm not going on a 'date' with her. We're just catching up. It's something I
need to do. No bars, no restaurants, no clubs. No sucking face or blowjobs in
the car at the canyon lookout. You have my word on that. You don't need to nag
me about it. I promise to keep my hands to myself.”

Hello, Match. I'm Gasoline.

I hated every word that tumbled out of
his mouth. Him getting frisky with her was a thought that hadn't cross my mind
until he said it. Thinking of them doing things made me feel ill. Wonder how
he'd take to being puked upon at home? Added to that was her game-playing
potential... I got riled like Taz on Jolt Cola. It seemed that I got the
exclusive privilege of cleaning up her messes when he's involved. I did not
want to deal with that crap again. She thrived on head-games. She'd be lost
without them as her moral compass. However, I can't say whether they were a
product of intention or a mere personality quirk.

What logical reason did he have to even
want to talk to her again? Perhaps Jet was right and Dmitri was truly
masochistic. This latest roller coaster ride was making me ponder his emotional
pain tolerance training methods. “I think you're making a huge mistake, Dmitri.
That's where I am on the subject.” Anger poured through me. I knew I was
right... that having a cup of coffee with Trouble would snowball to end badly.
She might not know about he and I... and the thought of Lorryn trying to sink
her meat hooks into him again was like flicking a cigarette into dry grass. My
anger flared a little brighter that out of all the people in the world who
could hit him up for home improvement, it had to be that piece of work.

Dmitri walked towards me and sat on the
couch. He looked intently at my face while he spoke low. “I'm going, Kaylis.
You can come along, and make an already awkward moment even more so, or you can
call Jet over, get wasted and mock everything that catches your fancy. Put on a
chick flick and talk shit for all I care. Whatever makes you happy, sweetie.
What-the-fuck-ever makes you happy.” He got up and started stomping towards the
bedroom.

Fuck this noise.

I used Dmitri's technique on him. As he
walked away, I closed my laptop and put it on the coffee table before standing
up. I gave him a look that said Eat Shit, stuck my tongue out at his back then
turned around and walked to the front door. My purse sat on the small table
next to my escape. I couldn't bear to stay in the same building if he was going
to be an asshole. Maybe I was selfish in not wanting to deal with that walking
pile of bullshit and her wake of devastation again. I just knew I didn't want
to be around when shit hit the fan... which it would. Repeating patterns don't
change without a catalyst and evidently the drama she already subjected him to
was a mere appetizer. I don't know what about her was like a flame to his moth.

“What are you doing?” I could tell he
wasn't done pissing me off. The disbelief in his voice as I walked away hung in
the air. Whirling around, I saw him staring at me with his head cocked to the
side as I walked towards the front door.

“I'm pulling a 'Dmitri'.” I kept my
voice even. It was much more controlled than the way I felt; anger, pure
frustration and sheer pissyness that he'd ignore the wisdom I'm more than happy
to share if it meant not dealing with that boat-load of issues.

“A what?” It was a Kodak moment. If I
thought he'd keep the expression long enough, I would have pulled out my cell
to snap a picture. His head was cocked to the side with a look of disbelief and
bewilderment pasted on his face.

“A you. A 'Dmitri'. I'm turning around
and leaving because I want to yell and hit pillows out of frustration. She's
just gonna fuck with you at the first chance. You know it. Go test yourself
against her feminine wiles. I'm going for a drive. I'm gonna blare music at an
obnoxious level while I tool around the country side. You wanna know what makes
me happy, what choice I want? I want you not to ever bother with her again,
just like you once told me. She's not fucking worth it.” The rancor out of my
system, I shrugged my shoulders and took it down a notch.