Gina and Mike (14 page)

My eyes went back and forth between the two photos. I wasn’t sure which I liked best. They both were great for different reasons. In the more formal photo, the silver heart necklace I had given Gina dangled around her creamy neck. I wondered if she still had the necklace. I wanted to ask her but didn’t.

Gina turned around. “I looked like such a dork back then.”

“No, you looked gorgeous,” I said. “Still do.”

I could feel myself blush, and I could have kicked myself in the ass for being so forward. The last thing I wanted to do was scare Gina away.

“Thanks,” Gina said. “But I’m not that kid anymore.”

“None of us are. Although there are times I wish I was.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean, we had some good times. No real responsibilities. No bills to pay. Nothing to worry about except getting good grades and staying out of trouble.”

Gina laughed. “And we didn’t always stay out of trouble, did we?”

“True, but we never did anything really bad. Just the normal teen stuff. Like drinking.”

“Speaking of drinking, what would you like? Coffee? Tea? Soda?”

“Coffee sounds good.”

I followed Gina into the kitchen. It, too, looked the same with its painted yellow cabinets with black hinges and knobs. I smiled when I saw her mom’s red cookie jar. It still sat on the counter by the refrigerator. Her mom always kept it filled with Oreos. I walked over and lifted the lid. I shook my head and smiled.

“She still puts Oreos in there,” Gina said. “It’s one of the first things I check whenever I visit.”

Gina and I always hit her mom’s cookie jar after school.

“Some things never change,” I said. “And that’s a good thing. Some things shouldn’t change. They’re good just the way they are.”

Gina turned the coffee pot on. “Mom’s been talking about moving into a condo. She doesn’t need this big house and the yard work is too much for her. But she just can’t pull herself away from all this.” Gina made a windmill motion with her arm.

I pulled out a kitchen chair to sit. “Yeah. It’s not easy letting go of the past.”

As soon as I said it I could have kicked myself, but it was true and it was how I felt.

“You’re right about that,” Gina said. “But sometimes we need to let go of the past in order to move on with the future.”

Damn. I knew Gina was right and it made me mad that she was always right, but it wasn’t what I wanted to hear.

“What about you. Have you let go of the past and moved on?”

“That’s sort of what I wanted to talk to you about,” Gina said.

If my heart was beating fast before, it was beating warp speed now.

****

Gina

As soon as Mike said it, I figured it was a good segue into what I wanted to tell him. But I wasn’t sure where to start. How do you tell someone something that you’ve spent years trying to forget? And yet, I wondered if it was why I could never really go on with my future the way I had wanted to. It was unfinished business, and I think I always knew that there would come a time when I needed to finish it.

I filled one of Mom’s brown stoneware mugs and handed it to Mike. “Room for cream, right?”

Mike smiled. “And Earl Grey for you, right?”

I nodded, grabbed a mug, filled it with water and heated it in the microwave.

I grabbed some Oreos out of the cookie jar and handled a couple to Mike. “For old times’ sake.”

“I’ll eat Oreos anytime,” Mike said. “When I buy them, Jack eats the whole bag before I get any. I think he hides them in his room so he doesn’t have to share.”

I sat across from Mike. “We can go into the living room if you want. Might be more comfortable.”

“I’m fine,” Mike said. “But if you want to move…”

“No. I’m good here.” I took a sip of my tea, trying to muster the courage to say what I needed to say.

“Everything OK, Gina?” Mike asked. “You seem a bit tense. You’re biting your lip.”

Damn him, I thought. I am tense. Very tense. I touched my lips with my hand.

“Still have that habit, huh?” Mike asked.

I nodded. “Guess so.”

“It’s OK. I wasn’t making fun of you. It’s always been something I remembered about you.”

I threw back my hair and smiled. “Well, at least you have some good memories of me.”

Mike sat up straighter. “Whoa, Gina. I have a ton of great memories of you.”

I pulled an Oreo apart. “But some bad ones, right?”

“Well, yeah. Some bad ones, too. But more good than bad.”

I didn’t take my eyes off of Mike’s. “That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. The bad memories, or rather, what caused them. There’s something I’ve wanted to tell you. It’s, well, it’s been on my mind for a long time.”

“How long?”

“Like twenty years.”

“O-K,” Mike said, running his hand through his hair. “What is it that you’ve waited twenty years to tell me?”

My phone rang. I looked at the caller ID. “It’s Mom. She’s probably calling to find out how the reunion was. I better take it or she’ll worry about me.”

“Sure,” Mike said. “Want me to go into the living room?”

Gina shook her head. “Hello, Mom. Oh, Judy, it’s you. Why are you using Mom’s phone?”

“What! Omigod, no! How? What hospital? No. I’m coming. I’ll try to get there in four hours. Judy, thanks.”

Tears exploded from my eyes and I jumped up from the table. “I gotta go. Mom’s in a hospital in New York. Judy said they were getting ready for dinner and she dropped over.”

“I’ll drive you,” Mike said.

“No. I can go myself. Besides, you said you and Jack were going to a baseball game tomorrow.”

“I’m sure Jack would understand.”

“Thanks,” I said. “But I better go alone. Not sure how long I’ll be there.”

Mike’s arms were around me. “OK, but if you need anything, please call.”

Mike wrote his number on a piece of paper he found on the counter and handed it to me.”I mean it, Gina. Call me and let me know what’s going on. I care.”

I took the slip of paper. “Can you see yourself out? I gotta change.”

“Sure, no problem,” Mike said. “Go change and be careful driving.”

****

Mike

I was worried about Gina’s mom, but it was killing me that I didn’t get to hear what Gina wanted to tell me. Twenty years is a long time to have something on your mind.

I stopped in front of the door and glanced into the living room. My eyes fell on the plaid couch. Gina was still upstairs. I dashed over and unzipped the right couch cushion. I stuck my arm in and waved it from one side to the other. I felt it. After 20 years, it was still there. I didn’t take it out. I was afraid Gina would come downstairs and catch me, so I just zipped up the cushion.  

As I walked away, the past jerked to the present. Gina and I were watching movies on the plaid couch. She told me she didn’t love me anymore, that she had been pretending the whole time because she didn’t want to hurt me. I punched the couch and walked out the door. That was the end.

Until now. Twenty fuckin’ long years later. Damn, I didn’t want this to be the end. Maybe I had another shot. Maybe we had another shot. I couldn’t believe how the day had turned out. I couldn’t believe that I sat beside Gina at the reunion. Hell, I wasn’t even sure she’d talk to me if she came. And we danced and I held her. Christ, I even got a hard on. I felt like a teenager and I didn’t want the feeling to go away. 

I thought about following her to New York, just in case she needed me. But I was afraid if I pushed too hard too soon, I’d scare her away. And I definitely didn’t want to do that. I didn’t want to screw up any possible second chance I might have with Gina. So I did the only thing I could do; I went home to an empty house.

****

Gina

I scrambled up the steps taking two at a time. I ditched my clothes and whipped my hair into a ponytail. I washed my face and brushed my teeth and threw on a pair of jeans and my pink Nike sweatshirt. I peeked out my bedroom window and watched as Mike pulled away from the house. I wanted to tell him; I would have told him. But I had to get to Mom. Mike would have to wait. I waited twenty years to tell him, what would a day or two matter? Besides, Judy didn’t sound good on the phone. I stuffed some clothes into my gray Coach carry-on and grabbed what I thought I might need. I locked up the house and headed for the highway, going faster than I should have on rain-slick roads.

I hoped to make it to New York in four hours. Normally, it would take closer to five. But with any luck, the traffic would be light given that it was nearly midnight. I just needed to stay awake. I sipped the coffee I had put in one of Mom’s travel mugs. I wasn’t a big coffee fan, but I knew it would help keep me awake. Besides, I had made a whole pot and it would have taken longer to boil water for tea.

I’m not a praying person, but I prayed over and over. I hoped God was listening and that he wouldn’t punish me for my lack of prayers over the years. He probably felt like I only prayed when I needed something. And, to be honest, he would be right. Just got out of the habit, I suppose. Doesn’t make it right, but it’s the truth.

Chapter 12

Mike

I thought about stopping at Jeremy’s on my way home, but decided that by now, they would all be pretty wasted. So I headed home instead.

I hated coming home to an empty house. I liked it much better when Jack was here. He was noisy and messy and didn’t always listen, but at least I wasn’t alone. Sometimes, I turned on the TV just so there’d be some noise in the house.

Maybe I should get a dog. Not a fluff ball like Lisa has, but a German shepherd or Golden Retriever, the kind of dog that I could wrestle and not be afraid I would crush. 

I felt sweaty and jumped in the shower. I closed my eyes and let the water beat down on my face. Christ, I thought. Even after all these years Gina still makes me feel like a horny teenager. I had forgotten how much I loved her smile, the way it slipped onto her face even when she didn’t want it to. And her hair, that gorgeous mane of red hair. God, I wanted to bury my face in it. I reach down and started massaging myself, thinking about Gina. I don’t remember the last time I came in the shower.

Before I hit the sack, I checked the answering machine. Jack had left a message saying good night. I smiled. Jack was the best thing that ever happened to me, and I wondered if one day Jack would meet Gina and if he did, what he’d think of her.

After Lisa, I vowed I would never marry again. But that was before tonight. Just being close to Gina drove me insane. It was electric. I know she felt it, too. I wanted to hold her like I used to hold her, make her feel the way I used to make her feel. I wanted to watch her come as I called her name and leave her drained and sated. Christ, just thinking about the things I wanted to do for her gave me another hard-on. I was pathetic. 

But it was more than just the sex that turned me on about Gina. It was the way she bite her pouty bottom lip. The way she tucked her hair behind her tripled pierced left ear and wrinkled her nose when she didn’t like something. Her little quirks that I had fallen in love with so long ago.

I looked at the clock on my nightstand. I figured that Gina would get to New York by four. It was a little after one.

***

Gina

I was right. There wasn’t a lot of traffic on the road. I turned up the radio so it would help keep me awake. Mom had it on a station that played the kind of music you’d hear in a dental office. S-L-O-W. I switched it to a classic rock ’n’ roll station.

I remember when my dad died. I was in law school. And, much like tonight, I left college in the middle of the night to meet Mom at the hospital. Dad had a massive stroke, and Mom found him on the couch watching TV. He never recovered.

Mom was a basket case. Turned out, Dad took care of all of the finances. He paid all the bills, knew when the taxes were due and the sewer and water bills. Mom took care of the house, laundry and grocery shopping. And cooking. She was, I mean is, a great cook. I’m not knocking her, but that’s the way it was. She was happy to let Dad be in charge of the finances.

Of course, Dad always kidded and said that he was in charge of the big things and Mom was in charge of the little things but that nothing big ever happened.  

After he died, I had to teach Mom how to manage the household expenses. At first, she didn’t want anything to do with writing out the bills, but I told her that she had to learn, that I wasn’t going to be around the rest of her life to take care of everything for her.

I pushed and she pushed back. Eventually, she was handling it all on her own and would get mad if I tried to help. “I can do it by myself,” she’d say. Mom became quite independent. I’m sure Dad was turning over in his grave. He had tried to get Mom involved in paying the bills, but she complained so much that he dropped it.  

I often wondered what it would have been like if I hadn’t been an only child. I was the only one of my friends who didn’t have a sibling. I was also the only one who had been adopted.

The things you think about when you’re driving alone in the middle of the night on a dark highway headed for the unknown.

I remembered the time I had asked Mom if she minded if I searched for my birth mother. At first, she was scared. She thought that if I found my birth mother that I wouldn’t love her anymore. But I told her that she was my mother and would always be my mother. Nothing would ever change that.

I met the woman who gave birth to me in the food court at a mall about two hours from home. It didn’t go well, and I wished I hadn’t looked her up. She used swear words like I use pronouns. Thank God she didn’t have red hair like me. Her hair was a mousy brown, shoulder length and frizzy. She was so thin she looked like if you sneezed you’d blow her away. She chain-smoked during our hour-long visit and her fingers and teeth were stained from the tobacco. I hate smoke, and when I coughed she continued to blow it in my direction.