Picking Up the Pieces (32 page)

Read Picking Up the Pieces Online

Authors: Elizabeth Hayley

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Sports, #Contemporary Fiction

             
He turned and looked surprised to see me. “Oh, uh, Lily, hi. Umm, Carl it was good seeing you. I’ll catch up with you later.”

             
The men shook hands and Adam began walking away, so I followed. He finally came to a stop at the back of the auditorium where there was a small alcove and looked at me expectantly.

             
I narrowed my eyes.
Why is he being so weird?
“You said you were going to text,” I finally said.

             
“Oh shit, yeah, I got caught up talking to Carl. Sorry.” His eyes were darting around and his hands were in his pockets. To say he looked uncomfortable would have been an understatement.

             
“Adam, what’s wrong with you?”

             
His eyes found mine briefly. “What do you mean?”

             
“I mean, you’re acting weird as hell. What is it?”

             
He sighed heavily and rubbed his hand against the back of his head. “I just . . . look Lily, I’m sorry, I just don’t want this to be awkward for Eva. I can only imagine what these parents and their children would say if they knew about us, and I just . . . I just don’t want to hurt her.”

             
“So we’re back to this, huh Adam? You're telling me one thing while another thing is the real truth?”

             
“What do you mean? What did I tell you that was untrue?”

             
My voice dipped dangerously low to prevent myself from screaming at him. “You said we’d meet here. You acted like it was no big deal to be seen here with me. I get that you have to think of Eva’s feelings, and I don’t fault you for it. But be
honest
with me. Tell me it makes you uncomfortable, so I can be prepared for it and we can avoid all of this. God, please Adam, just be upfront with me.”

             
Adam was staring at the floor, his posture rigid. He was clearly fuming, but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what he had to be pissed about.

             
“You’re really gonna stand there and lecture me about being honest?” His voice was crisp and when he finally looked at me, his eyes were penetrating, angry. “Seems a lot of things could have been avoided if you’d been as honest as you expect me to be.”

             
His words were like a slap in the face. But they didn’t make me sad. They made me fucking furious. “Is this what it’s always going to come down to, Adam? I’m going to call you out on something and you’re going to go back to that? Your
trump
card? I guess you win then. Because I know that what you did tonight doesn’t beat what I did to you last year. It’s not even close. But the fact that I can’t tell you what I’m feeling, that what you’re doing hurts me, is basically telling me
not
to be honest with you.” I felt the anger slipping as the tears rose.
Don’t do it, Lily. Please don’t cry in front of him.
But my emotions wouldn’t listen. And as the tears started to fall, Adam’s posture slackened.

             
“Lily, I—”

             
“Save it, Adam.” I started to walk away, but then spun back toward him. “It can’t be like this. We’ll never work if it’s like this.”

             
Before I even registered his movement, he had me in his arms and was holding me tightly. “Baby, I’m so sorry. God, I’m so sorry. I love you, Lily. I just don’t know how to be everything: the father Eva needs, and the boyfriend you need. I just wanted to protect you both. I don’t want people to talk about either of you because of me. And then, when you questioned me, I got angry and I’m such a dick for that. Please, Lily, I didn’t mean that shit. I’m sorry that my first reaction was to go there, to hurt you with our past. I won’t do it again. I swear.”

             
My body instinctively leaned into him, even though my brain scolded me for it. I didn’t want to depend on him. Not right now. But I did. Because he was Adam. My Adam. And even in the worst moments, I knew I’d always be able to count on him. He’d always catch me, even when he was the one who caused me to stumble. It’s why I loved him. Why I needed him. Why I chose him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him back, hoping that hugs like these would always be able to hold us together.

             
“Lily, there you are.”

             
The voice caused Adam and me to jerk apart. I sniffled and turned my head to see Tina, slightly panicked.

             
“Tina, what’s wrong?”

             
Tina clearly registered that she’d interrupted something important, but she couldn’t take it back now. “Uh, sorry, guys. But I lost Trish.”

             
I whirled around fully. “What do you mean you lost Trish?”

             
Tina shrugged, raising her hands in front of her and stared at me.

             
I turned to Adam. “Hey, I gotta go. Trish got a little drunk earlier and we gotta find her before she does something stupid.”

             
Adam tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear. “I understand.” He lowered his face so that he could look more clearly into my eyes. “Are we okay?”

             
I pressed a chaste kiss to his lips and smiled slightly. “Yeah, baby. We’re okay.”

             
A relieved smile spread across his face. “Good. I’ll call you later tonight. Maybe we can Skype,” he added with a wink.

             
“Don’t be a tease, Mr. Carter.”

             
“I’m not a tease if I intend to follow through, Miss Hamilton.” He gave me another kiss on the cheek and I left with Tina to fucking find Trish.

***

Tina and I did our best to locate Trish, but the lights had been dimmed some time ago, and it was nearly impossible to see as we stood at the back of the auditorium.

             
“I don’t know what to do. We’re never going to find her in here,” Tina said.

             
“Yeah. I mean, how much trouble could she get into at a middle school concert?”

             
As soon as those words left my mouth and I heard children’s screams and cymbals crashing from backstage, I made a promise to myself that I would
never
ask a question like that again.

             
Tina and I hoped that the kids were just messing around back there, or that a rabid dog had been let loose, anything but the actual cause. But our worst fears were confirmed when we heard Trish yell, “Stop screaming. You act like you’ve never seen two people kissing before. How do you think you all got here?”

             
“Oh. My. God,” Tina whispered.

             
“Come on,” I said as I grabbed her arm and yanked her backstage.

             
There we found Trish, her clothes thankfully still on her body, though they were clearly rumpled. She was surrounded by kids and behind her, rubbing his face with his hand, was the school’s band director.

             
Tina leaned in to me. “Don’t you have some advice for a situation like this?”

             
I knew she was referring to my romp with Max in nearly the exact spot Trish had just been caught by a flock of choir nerds. “Yeah,” I muttered. “Don’t get caught.”

***

Tina and I took Trish home and consoled her as best we could. Unfortunately for her, the principal and the superintendent had been attending the concert. Trish was immediately suspended without pay. I told her I’d contact a union rep on her behalf, but I had a feeling that the next time I saw Trish, it’d be when she was clearing out her classroom.

“Maybe it’s for the best,” Tina remarked as we walked out to my car.
“I don’t think she was really cut out for teaching. She would’ve broken under the stress eventually.”

I thought about Tina’s words for a second.
“Don’t we all?” I sighed as I climbed in the car and left Trish behind.             

 

Chapter 34: Max

 

Surprisingly, The Virgin Mary and I got along incredibly well. So well, in fact, that I was beginning to feel a little guilty for putting the words “The Virgin” in front of her name every time I thought of her. She was sweet, kind, and unbelievably generous to every
one
and every
thing
. She was the kind of person who would take home a doggie bag of scraps from a restaurant to give to stray cats and squirrels. Correction: She wasn’t the
kind
of person who did that. She actually
did
do that. On several occasions.

We did our best to get together when we could, but with her new magazine just getting off the ground, her time was limited.
Though somehow, with what little time she had, she still managed to give back to others.
Volunteer work. Why the fuck hadn’t I thought of that when I’d been jerking around (literally) for the past four months?

             
The truth was, Mary’s philanthropic nature only left me feeling like more of a loser than I already thought I was. If someone so busy could find the time to give back to the community, surely I could at least
help
her give back. Maybe we’d go pet some puppies at a local SPCA, or organize a beef and beer somewhere.
That’s charity, right?

So when I expressed my newfound desire to be Philadelphia’s Mother Teresa, Mary said she was more than willing to show me the ropes.
In the middle of April, she planned to go to The Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia to help with an Easter egg hunt. When I arrived with her for our “date,” and laid eyes on the patients, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to stay, or turn around and take the elevator back down to the lobby and run through the streets screaming. I knew that was a douchebag thing to even
think
, let alone give serious thought to actually
doing
it
.

But despite the fact that a thirty-year-old man shouldn’t be shocked to see a few sick kids, I hadn’t been prepared for what I’d encounter.
All of the children on the floor required long-term care. Most of them had already been there for months, and probably had the same amount of time—if not more—ahead of them. Some, Mary had told me, would never come out at all.

             
The hospital had sufficiently set the wing up to feel more like a home than a hospital. With brightly colored murals painted on most of the walls, several game rooms for kids of all ages, and nurses who treated the children like their own sons and daughters, it was almost easy to forget you were in a hospital.

Almost.
What I couldn’t ignore were the IV poles that these kids had to pull with them when they walked down the hall to the game room, or the wheelchairs that needed to be pushed by someone who was bigger and not as weak as they were.

I did my best to have s
ome fun with them, playing PlayStation with a few of the older boys and speaking in a horrible British accent after inhaling the helium from some of the “get well soon” balloons. Though I did manage to elicit some genuine laughs from those around me, I clearly didn’t have the natural connection with these kids that Mary had.
One day she’ll make a damn good mother.

With no more than a smile and a slight hug, she could make anyone around her feel loved, including me.
Just when I thought I was impossible to love, Mary was slowly changing my mind.

The only problem was, I couldn
’t figure out if I’d ever be able to love her back.

***

A week passed, and so did Easter. I spent it stuffing my face with ham, macaroni and cheese, and scalloped potatoes at my parents’. And The Virgin Mary spent hers dolling out ladles of soup at a homeless shelter in the city.
Sounds about right
.

             
I was beginning to think that the reason our relationship felt so unbalanced was because it was. Mary had so many things going for her. She and her friend had gotten the magazine up and running, and it was gradually beginning to take off. She’d landed a few solid interviews with some pretty big sports names in town, and her connections in the business were steadily growing.

             
I, on the other hand, filled my time with random guest spots and hoped that showcasing my skills as a television personality would land me what had now become my dream job. Lately, I felt like I was one step above picking up someone’s dry cleaning and asking if they wanted extra sugar in their grande latte if it would get me in front of the camera full-time.

Okay, that may have been a slight exaggeration.
But the time was approaching when I’d find out whether this audition was going somewhere, or nowhere fast. Recently, I felt like all of the progress I’d made may have just been an illusion; a mirage to string me along as I searched the desert hopelessly for water I’d never find.

That only made Jack’s call that much more
nerve-racking. “Hey, Jack,” I said tentatively when I answered.

“Maxi Boy,” he answered.
“How the hell are ya?”

I ran a nervous hand through my hair before answering.
“I don’t know, Jack.
You
tell
me
. And you know I hate it when you call me ‘Maxi.’ It reminds me of a girl’s period. Fucking disgusting,” I blurted out quickly. “I mean, unless you thought she might be pregnant. Then it’s a good thing.”
Why the hell am I talking about periods?
I was rambling and I knew it. “Sorry, Jack. Ignore me. I’m just nervous. Tell me you have good news.”

“Okay,” he said simply, “I have good news.”

“Really?” My heart had already been beating so loudly, I was sure Jack could hear the pounding through the phone. “Or are you just saying that ‘cause I told you to?”

“Well, which is it, jackass?
Do you want me to say it or not?”

“Jack, come on.
I’m fuckin’ dying over here. Did I get the job or not?”

“You got the job, you fuckin
’ asshole,” Jack laughed. “As if there was ever any doubt.”

A wave of relief washed over me.
“What do you mean ‘as if there was ever any doubt’? All I
had
was doubt.”

“Well, that doesn’t surprise me.
If you had half the faith in yourself that other people have in you, you’d be a lot better off. You know, that’s really gonna put a dent in that arrogant facade you have going for ya.”

“Ha, yeah, I guess so.”

“Anyway,” he continued, “they’re sending over the contract tomorrow morning. Stop by my office around noon, and we’ll look it over together. You don’t have any plans tomorrow, do you?”

“What? Uh . . . no, noon’s good. I’ll see you then.”
My lingering shock caused my voice to falter a bit. “And thanks, Jack,” I added.

“What are you thanking
me
for?
You
got the job. You’re a big fuckin’ deal. Go brag to some people or somethin’." Jack let out a breath of feigned disappointment. “For Christ’s sake, this humble shit really doesn’t suit you.”

             
I hung up with Jack, but over a minute later, I found myself still staring at my phone unsure of who to call. He’d said to brag to some people, but ‘bragging’ just didn’t seem like the appropriate word for what I planned to do.

             
I agreed that I needed to tell people: my parents, for starters. I knew my mom would be ecstatic, but just as Jack had said, she wasn’t at all surprised that I got the job. “I knew you’d get the job, honey. That ice show is lucky to have you.”

             
“It’s not an ice show, Mom,” I laughed. “That makes me sound like a figure skater or something. It’s a pre-game show called
On Thin Ice
.”

             
“You know what your mother’s trying to say,” my dad chimed in.
When the hell had
he
picked up the phone?
“Don’t be such a wiseass.”

             
“Well, you know where he gets
that
from,” my mom joked. “Certainly not me.”

             
“Are you insinuating that he got the smartass gene from me?” my dad asked, doing his best to act shocked.

             
“Okay, well I’m gonna leave you two alone to bicker about my inherited traits. I just called to tell you the good news.”

             
“Well, thank you, sweetheart,” my mom said. “You know who else will be excited to hear the news? Did you call her yet?”

             
It had more than crossed my mind to call Lily. When I’d hung up the phone with Jack, my first instinct had been to call her. I knew, despite the fact that we hadn’t really spoken, she would be proud of me. I’d waited so long to have Lily’s approval, I knew hearing her say she was proud of me would be like an orgasm to my ears. But, I just couldn't. “I can’t call Lily, Mom,” I said, finally answering her question. “I haven’t told her much about the auditions.”

The momentary silence on the other end of the phone told me I’d said something wrong.
“I meant Mary, honey. You know, that sweet girl you’ve been dating for the last month and a half.”

“Oh, right . . . her.”
Fuck.

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