Casting Stones (Stones Duet #1) (42 page)

“It’s nothing, Len.” I spit. “Everything’s just fine.”

With a quick jutting of his chin, he asks Jenna to leave us alone for a minute. What is it with the men in my life wanting to talk?

“Now you listen to me, young lady. I don’t know what’s going on, but this ain’t like you. You’re a good girl. A smart girl.”

I nearly laugh out loud and scoff at his words. I’ve been called a “good girl” or a “sweet girl” so many times in my life, but they’ve always been said by animals disguised as men. They didn’t think I was such a “good girl” when I cried and struggled beneath them until I vomited on myself, causing them to slap me and toss me aside.

“Lenny, I’ve just got a lot going on. I’m a little stressed. I’ll be fine.”

“Do you need to cut down your hours here sooner than January?”

“No, I might actually need to increase my hours until then. I’m going to need the money.”

“Need me to float you a loan? I got some money stashed under the mattress.”

I smile sadly because the idea that Lenny would loan me money when he barely gets by on his own makes me feel guilty. The only reason he continues to pay the raised lease is because he loves the customers; some of them are like family to him.

“Hey Lenny, Paco needs you in the back.” Jenna announces, walking through the double swinging door. I think it’s just her way of finding out what’s going on.

“So…?”

“So what?” I feign nonchalance as I set white placemats down on the tables followed by a folded napkin, fork, spoon and knife.

“What happened with Shane? Why was he so upset?”

“It’s not a big deal, Jenna. It was just a…misunderstanding.” I can’t hide the annoyance in my voice. I’m annoyed because she was gone for a few days and I’m exhausted. I’m annoyed because she has a father who will gladly foot the bill for her whims. And I’m annoyed because she’s still talking and it makes me feel guiltier by the second. She knows the truth. Only she and Simon do. “Can we please not talk about it anymore?”

“What.Ever.” She rolls her eyes and walks away.

She might as well take a trowel and pile on another layer of guilt. I make my way over and help finish setting up the tables.

“And for the record, if you’re going to use my name in a lie, at least give me the heads up.”

I nod my apology, knowing she’s right. “I’m sorry.”

We work together to get the diner ready for the morning rush.

“How’s Collin?”

The mere mention of his name puts a huge smile on her face, her demeanor changing completely. “Oh, Remy! He’s wonderful. He’s incredibly wonderful! I love him so much.”

“You love him already?” I tease sarcastically. “You’ve only known him what…a couple of months?” Jenna falls in and out of love more than the average person.

“Don’t judge me! You fell for Shane pretty fast and hard if I recall.” She sticks her tongue out at me like a five-year-old.

“But I’ve known Shane since the summer.”

“Remy, ogling the man from a distance doesn’t exactly qualify as “knowing” him. You barely even spoke to him for weeks when he started coming in.”

It’s my turn to stick out my tongue. “Whatever. It feels like I’ve known him forever.” My heart beats faster at the thought of keeping him forever but almost flat lines at the thought of losing him. The stark reality that it could be over in an instant slaps me in the face.

“Well,” Jenna says as a huge grin forms on her face. “Collin asked if I would consider moving down there.”

“What?” I gasp. “Are you serious?”

“Remy, I love him.”

“Yeah, but does he love you or what you do to him?”

Daggers shoot from Jenna’s eyes. “Fuck you! What— all of sudden you’re Miss High and Mighty Righteous? Do I need to remind you what you —”

“Shut up! I don’t need a reminder. I live this fucking nightmare everyday!”

Jenna and I have been friends for a long time and we’ve had our share of fights, but neither one of us have ever been so cruel. So hurtful with our words. A deep gash from a rusty, dull razor would’ve been less painful that what she was going to say.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles as she walks toward me.

“Me, too.” I reach out, wrap my arms around her thin body and tell her that I love her and I don’t want to see her get hurt.

Shortly after seven thirty, I receive a text from Shane letting me know that he’s going home to see his sister and her daughters, but that he’ll be back tonight by six o’clock. I type back a quick response of “Okay” to which he responds and asks if we’re okay. While my fingers type an affirmative response, the anxiety riddling through my body indicates otherwise. I pray that he doesn’t go see Mia again.

Since I have nowhere in particular to be, I text Simon and ask if he’d like to meet for a late lunch. We haven’t hung out in quite some time and although he drives me crazy sometimes, I miss him. Our friendship used to be easy until one small, but significant, thing drove a wedge between us.

I find him sitting at the bar chatting away with the bartender whose shirt is way too tight and needs to be buttoned up a little more; she might as well as serve her boobs up on a silver platter.When I pull the stool out and slide in next to him, immediately placing my head on his shoulder, the disappointed bartender with curly hair glances in my direction and offers a tight smile as though I just staked claim to what she thought was hers.

“What can I get you to drink?” she asks as she refills the condiment bin of sliced fruit.

“Cranberry and seltzer.”

“You want Tito’s in that?” She reaches for the bottle of vodka.

“No, thanks.”

A dubious look, mixed with confusion, extends across her face before she looks at Simon. She’s probably thinking he could do much better than me.

The tumbler is filled and placed onto a cocktail napkin. “Let me know if I can get you anything else.” Her attention is focused on the man beside me.

“I’m good for now, but I’ll let you know.” I catch a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror and see the familiar stare of a predator stalking his prey. Poor girl, she’s a goner.

Simon and I fall into comfortable but superficial conversation about stupid things after placing our order for appetizers. He teases me about my hair and tells me that I need a dye job. I tell him to kiss my ass and to eat a cheeseburger because he’s sloppy and gaunt these days. Instead of retorting, he asks about my plans for the holidays.

“Not sure yet. I need to talk to Shane.” I answer as I fold the cocktail napkin into a tiny triangle and flick it across the table.

With a deep clearing of his throat Simon makes a pact with me. If for some reason we find ourselves alone for Christmas we’re going order Chinese and watch
A Christmas Story
marathon.

We both smile, but the current of tension, the unspoken subject, thickens the atmosphere of the vacant, dingy bar.

“How are things with you and David?” I take the plunge and ask the question that’s been sitting there like an elephant in the room.

He responds with an icy glare.

“C’mon. What’s going on? You guys used to be really close.”

“Yeah, maybe when I was ten.”

My eyes cast away at the thought of Simon as a young boy.

“Now he’s a judgmental asshole who thinks he’s God’s gift to mankind.”

I snap my teeth and roll my eyes. “He is not. We both know that’s not true. He just wants what’s best for you. ”

“The only problem with that is He thinks
he
knows what’s best for me. He thinks he knows what’s right for everyone. He expects people to fall in line and listen to him because he’s “lived” and has experience.” He scoffs, “Well, right about now, he’s doing anything but living. Not since that day we put her in the ground anyway.”

“Can you blame him?” I swallow the lump in my throat.

“Hi, sweetheart. Aren’t you precious? Here let me take your bag.” The woman with a radiant smile reached out. I stilled and then quickly hid behind Maxine, the social worker who had known me since I was practically still in diapers.

Maxine turned and lowered herself to meet me at eye level, promising me that I was safe here. She told me that I would have a nice room with a dollhouse. She said I would have a brother, too, but I later found out that he spent the few days prior making a list of the ways he could torment me. He didn’t want a sister or at least, he didn’t want me for a sister.

“Here you go,” the bartender dropped off our food before sauntering away with a sway of her hips.

I sit up and rub my hands together before licking my chops playfully. “Mmmm.”

“I can’t believe you’re going to eat this.” Simon scoops up a loaded potato skin, dunks it in sour cream and plops it into his mouth. He moans in pleasure.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve watched my weight. I’ve sat there, eyeballing others who’ve eaten calorie-filled foods and didn’t think twice about it. That luxury has never been mine.

“I’m sure I’ll work off the calories when Shane gets home.” I reply with a waggle of my eyebrows and a wide grin. I moan around the mouthful of food.

“You’re serious about his guy?”

“I love him…and before you ask, he loves me too.”

He heckles while his shoulders rise and fall in a quick shrug. “It’s your funeral.”

Shane arrives back to the apartment shortly after six with several bags of groceries weighing down his arms. I jump up and drag my weary body from the couch to help him put things away.

He drops the bags to hug me. I am crushed against his body clad in jeans and button down shirt rolled up at the sleeves. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

He kisses me hard before whispering that he doesn’t like fighting with me.

My eyes follow the trail from his chest to his neck to his scruffy chin and finally to his eyes where I see sincerity and mischief battling for prominence.

“What?” I ask coyly.

“I had a long talk with my sister. She told me if I wanted to keep you that I should put a ring on your finger.”

In that moment, I feel as though I’ve been zapped by a current of electricity and I jolt back, my eyes widening in disbelief.
A ring?
I wait for him to laugh and tell me that he’s just kidding, but the words never come.

“Uh…” I stammer.

“Relax. I told my sister that her judgment is clouded from the chemo.” He kisses my forehead and begins the task of putting away the food. I get the feeling I’ve somehow hurt his feeling with my response.

“Shane,” I whisper as I touch his arm.
Tell him! Tell him that you’ll never be good enough for him or anyone. No one wants damaged goods.

“Yeah?” he asks without so much as turning in my direction.

I chicken out…again. “Are you hungry? Do you want me to make some food?”

Shane throws his head back as belly laughter fills the small space of the kitchen until he doubles over. “You cook? No offense, but I’d like to live for at least another thirty years.”

My mouth drops open in mock offense and I huff loudly because although one might think that I should be offended, I can’t be. He’s completely on target. Aside from Ramen Noodles or oatmeal, I’m a shit cook.

“Aww, baby. Did I hurt your feelings?” He air kisses mockingly. “Come here. Give me a kiss.” Again, I’m drawn flush against his body and his erection presses into my belly.

“No, you didn’t hurt my feelings. From Southie, remember?” I curl my bicep and grunt, showing my force and brute. “Fine. Since you’re such a good teacher, or at least you used to be, even if you were only a gym teacher,” I air quote for dramatic effect, “teach me how to cook.”

“Just a gym teacher?” He raises his eyebrows which causes deep lines to form on his forehead.

“Oh, please,” I huff. “A gym teacher is
not
the same a regular teacher.”

“Wait, so you’re saying that because the content or the location is different, the job isn’t the same?”

“Exactly.”

“That’s like saying a hooker and a stripper aren’t the same thing,” he chuckles.

“There you go with
that
analogy again! Strippers are not hookers!” My voice rises to an incoherent squeal as he words hit my ears. “They’re completely different.” My thoughts drift to Candy and my mother.

Shane must realize what he’s said because he quickly utters an apology. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“But just to clarify for the last time, strippers and hookers are
not
the same thing.”

“Damn, calm down. I simply meant that they use their bodies to entertain and offer pleasure in different places. The point is I went to college, on the Army’s dollar, and got my certification like any other teacher. Sorry, it was a stupid analogy.”

My eyes meet his, accepting his apology.

“What’s going on with us? Seems like all we’re doing in bickering over the stupidest things.” Shane’s hands run up and down my arms.

“I know. I’m sorry.” I bury my face in his chest, exhaling deeply. “I think I’m really stressed out with school, work and my upcoming internship.”

“Okay. I thought you were going to tell me something else.”

“Something else?”

“I thought maybe you were pregnant?” He grins. “You’ve been extremely moody lately.”

“Oh, God! That would be awful!” I sneer. “You already know I don’t ever want to have kids.”

By the look on his face, you would have thought I told him that his dog died.

“I was hoping you’d change your mind. I’m not talking tomorrow, but maybe someday.”

“Don’t hold your breath.” I proclaim with conviction as a shiver runs through me.

“You’re that adamant about not ever having kids?”

I nod my head.

“C’mon. Women are supposed to want to be mothers.”

“That’s not true. Where do you come up with this stuff?” I roll my eyes at his skewed perception of the world according to Shane Davis.

He shrugs then looks away. Shane seems to drift elsewhere momentarily until he claps his hands and announces that we need to make some food. “I’ll be right back.” In an instant, Shane is gone from the kitchen and is behind the locked bathroom door for the next twenty minutes. He’s freshly showered when he enters the kitchen. Washed away is the sweat of the day and the anxious man replaced by a relaxed one.