Now She's Gone: A Novel (9 page)

“Do you think you’ll ever get over her?”

I eyed him. I almost wanted to hit him, but then I almost wanted to hug him. He knew me better than I knew myself and he knew the questions to ask that would get me interested enough to answer. He didn’t beat around the bush.

“No,” I said truthfully. “I won’t. I mean, I will move on. Eventually. Not anytime soon, but eventually. But I’ve got a hole in my heart right now and when it heals, there’s gonna be a scab.”

He almost smiled at me and said, “I’m not here to say anything about Sandy, but I do want you to know as far as I know, she loved you. She really loved and cared about you.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Did that private detective ever call you?”

I took a hit off my cigarette and said, “No. He’s still looking. Not much to go on, you know?”

“Right,” he said and put his cigarette out.

I eyed him and decided to test him, “So why do you think she left?”

He shrugged. “Can’t ever tell. I’m sure she had her reasons.”

“You always had a crush on her, didn’t you?”

He was taken aback, I could tell. But my suspicions were confirmed. He’d always liked her a little
too
much. He was always a little
too
nice to her. But how I really knew about his feelings was by the gifts he’d buy her for her birthday. They were always expensive little knickknacks, once a crystal egg which had to cost him a fortune. Sandy had been clueless to his feelings and told me when she got it, “What the hell am I supposed to do with this thing? Why would he buy something like this?”

I just shrugged and let it go. She’d taken the egg with her when she left, along with his other gifts.

I told him, “It’s okay, man, lots of men dug her. You can’t marry someone with an ass like hers and expect that no one will notice it just because you put a ring on her finger.”

He didn’t respond for a moment, only sat there and tried to gather his dignity. Then he blurted, “She called me.”

“What?” I said and jumped out of my seat. “Where is she?”

“She didn’t say. Her number came up unlisted on my cell.”

“What did she say?”

“She asked about you. She asked how you were and I told her you were fine and she said ‘thank you very much’ and before I could say another word, she hung up.”

“Is that all?”

He nodded. “That’s all.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m telling you now,” he said and took a sip of beer.

“When did she call?”

“Last night. About midnight.”

“Shit,” I said and my emotions began to run rampant inside me. “Oh, fuck! I know what she’s doing! She knew you’d tell me to make me suffer more.”

He stared at his shoes.

“Why can’t she call
me
? Why didn’t she call me and ask
me
how
I
am?”

“Like I said, she’s probably got her reasons.”

I glared at him. “Stop protecting her. That’s my job.”

“Get a grip, Bruce. You’re right. She called me so you’ll keep hanging on. I almost didn’t want to tell you but here you are looking like a fucking lunatic. She’s fine, okay? She sounded fine! Stop worrying about her and move on with your life!”

“It’s just not like her to do something like this. She’s never played games with me.”

“Bullshit. She’s played you since the day you met her.”

I was on him before he could blink. I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him up off the couch.

“You don’t know what goes on between people, asshole,” I hissed. “And don’t think you know what went on between us. Got it?”

He didn’t back down. “Fuck you, Bruce. If you want to sit around here and die, then be my guest. She’s gone and she isn’t coming back. And if she does, she won’t be the same.”

“You know what? You’re an asshole!”

“No, you’re the asshole!” he yelled and caught his breath. “Bruce, we all loved her! I loved her! Why do you think I’m not married? I stood around for years and waited for you two to break up.”

He stopped and shook his head. I shoved him away from me.

“Look at me! When I heard about her leaving, I broke down and cried like a fucking baby! All these years watching you two fall deeper and deeper in love has turned me to shit! And for what? Nothing!”

I told him, “You’re a fucking asshole!”

“Maybe I am. But the point is, she could be off with someone, Bruce. She could get any damn man she wanted and the problem is, she knows it. And you’re sitting here letting this shit eat you alive. No fucking woman is worth that!”

God, I hated to admit it, but the bastard was right. She could be fucking some other man right now. Moaning his name. It made so angry to think of her giving herself to someone besides me.

“I had one afternoon with her,” he said. “No, nothing like that, don’t even think I’d do that to you. I came over to see you and you were out. And we sat around and watched TV. I sat here all afternoon and listened to her talk about nothing, never once got the courage up to touch her. We ate popcorn and waited for you to come home. It was one of the best afternoons in my life! That’s how pathetic I am!”

I looked away from him.

“And that’s all I had, Bruce! You had ten years. I had an afternoon. Consider yourself lucky. Even if she had her faults, you’re better off.”

He started out of the room. I watched him go.

He stopped at the door. “I don’t hate her. I hate what she’s done to you, that’s all.”

I glared at the wall.

“I won’t come by here again and bother you anymore,” he said. “If you want me, you know my number. Otherwise, go fuck yourself.”

And with that, he left. I wished he had never come.

 

 

His Mother Hated Me

“Hey You!

I hate that. ‘Hey You!’ It’s so stupid sounding. Fuck it. I’m not putting it in anymore.

Anyway.

That’s how safe I felt with Bruce. How much I trusted him. After our first date, I didn’t see any reason why we shouldn’t live together. I knew he’d be over every night anyway.

And it would kill my mother.

I didn’t really plan on marrying Bruce. I still had this idea of moving to LA.”

 

There it was again, LA! I would have to tell the private detective to check there. Maybe I’d go myself and stay a few days. Maybe. I thought about it. Maybe not.

What if she doesn’t want to be found?

I stopped reading and looked up. Who cares what she wants? I had to see her. I knew I should just stop caring and move on, but I had to see her at least one more time. When I saw her, I’d tell her how I felt. When I saw her, I’d…

I’d probably break down and cry like a little girl. God! I hated this shit. I went back to reading.

 

“I liked him a lot at first and knew it was only a matter of time before I fell in love. I didn’t know if I wanted that or not. Two broken hearts were enough at that point. He was so good looking and successful that women would flock to him. It was worse than it had been with Wayne and Frank. I handled it better, but it still ate me up to think that he might sometimes look back at them at the women who flirted with him.

I am so glad I’m over stupid shit like that now. But, him being perfect would really please my mother and that I didn’t want. I wanted to torment her a little. So, I begged him to tell her that he was some sort of a bum. Or that he fixed motorcycles or something for a living. Maybe he could be a tattoo artist. He was perfect and everything she would have wanted for me. And I just didn’t want to give it to her! I mean, I wanted him, but I didn’t want her to know he was this perfect man, the whole package, as they say, so she could pat herself on the back about it.

He did it! He told her he was a mechanic. She shook her head and later tried to get me to break up with him. I refused. When she found out he was this ultra-successful architect and that he’d started his own company, she just said, ‘I knew you’d find a good one, Sandy! I just knew it! Hold onto him!’

That’s the only thing I didn’t like about Bruce—the fact that my mother loved him.”

 

That was just like her.

 

“I told him I was just the cocktail waitress at the club and he bought it. I said something like, ‘It’s easier than in a real bar and the tips are better and I have to pay for school.’ I wasn’t in school, but that’s what I said. I think I could have told him anything, come to think about it, and he would have bought it.

I know enough about men to know what they think of strippers. They’ve got no respect for any woman who’d take off her clothes for money. Even as open-minded as he was, he wouldn’t have even considered asking me out if I had been on that stage that night stripping.”

 

She was wrong. I would have groveled at her feet and she knew it. And yeah, I did figure it out. She made a little too much money being a “cocktail waitress.” It bothered me at first, but then again, if I had said anything, she might have taken it the wrong way and broken up with me. I accepted it as I accepted her. Besides, what guy wouldn’t want to be with a hot stripper?

 

“But I didn’t really want a relationship. He was so right for me, but I still had that stupid idea of moving to LA, maybe looking Frank up and trying my luck at acting. I told him all this, leaving the Frank part out, of course.

He asked me, ‘What’s in LA?’

‘I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.’

He looked sad and said, ‘I want to show you something.’

We got into his car and drove towards downtown. He pulled off into this great older neighborhood with these killer older homes. We drove a little longer and then he pulled up to this awesome house, which didn’t look anything like any of the other houses nearby.

‘Wow,’ I said. ‘Did you design that?’

It was so cool. Modern. Long and wide and fat. It was white and had this vestibule to die for. A huge three car garage and a nice spot of land in the back.

‘Yeah, I did,’ he said and got out. ‘Let’s go look at it.’

I followed him and slipped my hand in his. He liked it when I did things like that. We walked in. The foyer was huge, as was every single room in the house. Open and wide and it looked so clean.

‘Do you like it?’ he asked.

‘I love it.’

He grinned. ‘I love you.’

I turned to him and smiled. He’d already told me this before. He said it first, one week after we went on our first date. I had said it back. Luckily a year later, we were still saying it. I decided to tease/torment him a little. ‘Do you now?’

He groaned. ‘Yeah.’

‘How much?’

‘Enough to ask you to marry me.’

I eyed him. ‘Are you kidding?’

He shook his head.

‘If you’re kidding, I’ll kill you.’

‘I’m not kidding,’ he said and got down on one knee. He pulled out a little blue box and held it up to me.

A gift! A ring! Yes! I tore the box open to find this exquisite one carat diamond ring set in platinum. God, he had such good taste.

‘So how about it?’ he asked and stared up at me.

I eyed him. ‘Aren’t we moving a little fast?”

‘I like it fast,’ he said.

I got down on my knees in front of him and handed him the ring, then held my hand out. He slipped it on me. It looked nice.

‘If I say no, can I keep the ring?’ I asked.

His eyes nearly popped out of his head.

I cracked up. ‘I’m joking! Of course I’ll marry you! I’d be a fool not to!’

He breathed a sigh of relief. ‘What about the other thing?’

I knew what he was talking about but I said, ‘What other thing?’

‘Sandy!’

Geez. He was sometimes so insecure.”

 

I did
not
appreciate that.

 

“I giggled, put my arms around his neck, looked into his eyes and said, ‘I love you. Too.’

He grinned. ‘Good.’

‘So where are we going to live?’ I asked. ‘I am sick of that tiny apartment.’

‘How about here?’

I stared at him in disbelief. My mouth just dropped to my knees. ‘You bastard! You knew this was your house! You could have told me!’

He shrugged. ‘I’m telling you now. I wanted to wait until it was finished. You like it?’

‘Oh,’ I said and ran my finger down the bridge of his nose. ‘I think we can shack up here.’

‘What about LA?’ he asked.

He looked so sad then. I wanted to please him so much. I wanted to be everything to him. I wanted him to love me. LA seemed like a stupid idea anyway. What was out there? Heartbreak? Struggles? I had had enough of that to do me a lifetime.

‘Forget it,’ I said. ‘It was just a stupid idea I had.’

He chuckled, then said, ‘Are you sure?’

I thought about it. Yeah, you know, I was sure. I nodded, kissed the tip of his nose and stood. I held out my hand and helped him up off the floor. We began to walk through the house.

‘How do you afford all this stuff?’ I asked.

He shrugged and said, ‘I’ve just had a few good years. Atlanta is always growing and there’s plenty of work.’

‘That’s true.’

‘It’s a great place to be an architect.’

‘Really?’ I asked, already bored with the business talk.

He said some more stuff about architecture and I just smiled and looked around the house. God! It was so cool! We were in the kitchen and I was thinking about throwing him down on the floor and fucking his brains out when I stopped and decided to listen to what he was saying. It might be important.

‘And I did it,’ he said. ‘It put my firm on the map and allowed me to build my dream house.’

What the hell was he talking about? He stared back at me expectantly. I smiled at him. ‘That’s so cool, baby.’

He nodded. He was very proud of himself. ‘It is, isn’t it?’

I nodded. I guess. I just wanted to fuck him.”

 

I shook my head. Just like her. Just like her.

I nodded off and slept for a few minutes. Softly, I heard her voice in my ear, “You need to wake up. You know I hate it when you fall asleep at your desk.”

I jerked awake and stared around wildly. Oh, shit. I picked up the journal and started reading again.

 

“I smiled at him and touched his arm, sliding my finger up it. He stopped moving and turned to me, bent down and gave me a nice, big kiss. I threw my arms around his neck and he picked me up, put me on the kitchen counter and began to tear my clothes off.

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