Progress (Progress #1) (22 page)

“I’m back!” Donny called, grabbing a seat at the table. “Are you cold? Uncle Al has heavier coats in the house. Do you want me to grab one?”

She let out a sigh of relief that she didn’t have to answer my question, and I ran my thumb over the collar of Donny’s jacket, letting it brush against her neck. “This conversation isn’t over,” I whispered.

“Did I interrupt something?” Donny said.

“Nope!” Charlie spat, and finished the rest of her beer in one gulp.

“Well, pretty lady knows how to drink,” Donny mumbled. “So,
Charlie
, where did you meet Jesse?”

“We work at The Crimson together.”

“Ahh! Another hostess?” he asked, but instantly regretted it. He flinched, looking up at me.

Charlie giggled, breaking the tension at the table, and she took my cup. She raised the beer in the air and shouted, “Cheers to another hostess!”

I closed my eyes with a smirk and listened to the room flood with music.

Donny, Charlie, and I sat back and enjoyed the evening. One by one, most of my family came around to our table and introduced themselves to the woman who had all their curiosities piqued.

She took it in stride, and I’d never seen her more comfortable in her skin. She never flaunted, but merely held herself up with healthy dose of self-respect that squared her shoulders. The image of Charlie burned into my memory, and if it weren’t for the constant interruptions, I wouldn’t have thought there was another person on Earth that night.

She stole everyone’s attention, and I’d never been prouder to claim I knew someone. Feisty and on fire, Charlie made a game of her responses to my family about who she was and how I knew her. She told my uncle that she was a blind date. She told my cousins that she was my AA sponsor (my personal favorite). She told others she was my dog groomer, my dental assistant, or my wife.

Everyone loved her.

By the time the evening came to a close, I couldn’t say I’d had a better time at any previous Anders Fall Family Reunion. It was all due to a pretty lady in a red dress who had the soul of an angel and the heart of a saint.

“You ready?” I asked, handing her a bottle of water.

She hiccupped, struggling to pull Donny’s coat from her arms.

“Keep it,” Donny said. “Give it back to Jess another time.”

“Thank you, Donny.” She hiccupped and covered her mouth. “Maybe I’ll see you again soon.” She gave him a hug and turned to me, stumbling and grabbing my arm for balance. Rolling her eyes, she smiled. “Ready now.”

The patio was virtually empty, and only a few straggling guests remained. Mom had left over an hour earlier.

Charlie’s ankles wobbled while standing still, and I could only imagine what the walk back to the car would look like. I winked and crouched down.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m taking off your shoes.”

Her sheer stockings were still flawless, clinging tightly to her skin. The fabric begged me to touch it, and I couldn’t resist running my thumb along her ankle. With her hands clutching my shoulders tightly, she stepped out of one shoe and set her foot onto the cool grass.

Her thighs, covered by a drape of thin red material, stood at my eye-level, and I eased my dry throat with a swallow. “The other,” I whispered.

She picked up her other foot, and I lingered a little longer that time, making sure I swept the bottom of her foot with a gentle touch. Goose bumps covered her calves and I smiled at the sight.

I looked up at the expression on her face, and her eyes were hooded staring back at me.

“Better?” I asked, picking up her shoes and standing to read her expression.

“You know,” she began, “if you really wanted to see my panties tonight, you could’ve chosen a less obvious move.” She grinned.

I glanced back down to her legs, wishing I’d stayed down there for a little longer. “Well,” I waved my hand, “I thought the ambience of the evening along with the goat cheese crostinis would’ve won you over.”

“They’re red,” she said, giggling.

“What?”

“Wait, did you just say I ate goat cheese?” She covered her mouth.

I laughed. “You ate
a lot
of goat cheese.” I shook my head. “What’s red?”

She raised an eyebrow and thought about it. “They were quite delicious. I think goat cheese is my new favorite.”

I set my hand on the small of her back and nudged my chin toward the driveway. “What’s red?”

“My panties. You were thinking about what color my panties were. So I just told you to take the appeal and mystery away.” Hiccup.

I stopped and her head swayed, trying to find my eyes. “Charlie. How do you do that?”

“What?”

“How do you know what I’m thinking?”

She shrugged. “I don’t
always
know what you’re thinking. Just when you’re thinking really hard about something.”

“Wait a minute. So you can actually hear my voice in your head?”

“No,” she said, still giggling through her dizziness. “I don’t hear voices. Just feelings. I can’t explain it. But isn’t that normal? I mean, what happens when two people know each other so well that they finish each other’s sentences? Isn’t that what we’re talking about? The same wavelength?”

“I didn’t say anything about wanting to know the color of your underwear. We weren’t even talking about your panties.”

“But you were thinking it, right?”

“Yes! But that isn’t normal!”

She hiccupped again and set her head against my chest. “It’s normal for us, though. And I like our normal.”

“How does it work? How do you feel it?”

She stood straight and took a sip of her water. “Um. Mostly it’s just a strong feeling—an overwhelming urge to say something when it wouldn’t be something I normally would in the context of the conversation.” She scratched her head and looked down at my chest. “For example, I know you wore that green shirt under your blue one for me tonight. And you’re right.” She laughed. “I love that shirt on you.”

My lips parted and I looked at the soft skin of her neckline. “And you just picked me to read like that? Out of everyone in the restaurant, you chose me?”

“No. I can do it with most people on some level. But you’re the first one where I didn’t have a say in the matter.” She giggled, disguising her discomfort with our conversation. “You were screaming for someone to listen. It got so loud that it started drowning out the rest of them, until yours was the only one I could hear.”

“I don’t think many people can do this, Red.” I frowned. “I think you’re special.”

“’Beautiful,’ ‘special,’ and a gift of charms all in one night? What are you doing, Jess?” Hiccup. “Are you falling in love with me?” She laughed again and walked toward the car.

The moon reflected off the lake’s surface, and I took a deep breath before I began. “What are we doing?” I said, approaching her from behind.

She knew what I was asking, but opted to go with the obvious answer. “We got drunk at your family reunion. And now you’re bringing me home.” She opened the car door but I slammed it shut.

“No. Come on. I don’t want to play this game anymore, Red. Tell me. Why were you so quick to forgive me today? How did I get you here without dragging you?”

She glided her hands down her cheeks and her eyes finally settled on mine. “I was mad last week. I was.” She nodded, her eyes welling with tears and begging me not to make her say it. “I wanted you so bad, Jess,” she whispered. “I just wanted you to say the words. But you couldn’t.” Her voice wavered between exhaustion and a plea.

“I couldn’t. Not then. I knew you were mad. But you didn’t understand that I was trapped in my own mind. I didn’t have the strength to say what you needed to hear.” I took a step closer but she stepped back.

“I’m not mad anymore, though. It’s been almost two weeks now.”

I took another step closer. She took another step back.

“I didn’t mean to be such a hypocrite,” I said.

She shook her head. “That afternoon was a lapse in judgment, I get it. You weren’t on top of your game.” Her chin quivered but she remained strong in her stance. “You have no allegiance to me, and I understand why. You made your case perfectly clear: you aren’t interested.” She shrugged. “I’m glad we can still be friends, though.”

“Wait. What? Are we talking about the same thing here?”

“You use women,” she said quietly. “You gave me a dozen phone numbers, Jess. The message was delivered loud and clear. If for some reason I ever ended up in your bed—it’s a long shot, I realize—you’d be using
me
for the same reasons you use
them
. And I realized I should take pride in the fact that you respect me enough to stay away. Maybe at one time I would’ve been okay with having sex with you, but the last six months have done something to me.” She smiled, but it looked more like a frown. “Because of you, I’ve changed.” She licked her lips and shivered. “I don’t have to settle for a guy like you.”

My heart sank with her words and a quiet
buzz, whiz, chirp
song rang through my ears. Not that she hadn’t said anything that wasn’t true, but it stripped another layer away from me. I tried to take a deep breath, but my chest couldn’t feel full.

“Oh my God, Jess. That was such an asshole thing of me to say! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean… Listen to me.” She faced me, setting her hands on my shoulders and adding to the searing pain in my gut. Her eyes sobered and her hiccups ceased. “What I meant to say is that if you and I were to…well…if our friendship
progressed
, I’d always be worried that you’d reject me come morning. I don’t want to ever put myself in a situation like that—especially with someone I adore as much as you. And I wouldn’t want you to have to explain yourself, because I don’t want to be
that
girl. What we have together is too precious for me to lose. You and I are complex enough without adding sex into the mix. It would cheapen us.” She rested her forehead against mine, and her touch was almost unbearable. “And I like us,” she whispered, smiling.

She wasn’t wrong, though. She was painfully right. If I looked at our friendship from her perspective, I couldn’t blame her from drawing that conclusion.

It was because of
me
that she was going to break
my
heart.

But I couldn’t let her go. Not that night. And not without telling her how I felt.

I cradled her cheeks in my hands. “Charlie.”

“Wh—”

“Hold it right there.” I ran my thumb across the small divot above her lip as she emphasized the
W
. “So soft,” I mumbled, smiling. “I need to tell you something.”

Her hands began to shake and her eyes pleaded with me not to say the words, but I couldn’t stop them.

“I think I’m—”

“I have a date tomorrow,” she choked out, leaning away from me and breaking our contact. Tugging on her lip, she kept her head down.

All the air leapt from my chest. “You what?” I whispered.

She cleared her throat and looked away. “A date.” She stood straight. “So you’re going to have to give me some moral support, because I don’t know what I’m doing.” She squeezed her eyes shut.

“With who? Do I know him? Why would you—?”

“I don’t think you know him,” she cut me off. “He came into The Crimson with a group of friends on Wednesday, and we got to talking. Then he asked me.” She pushed out a ragged breath.

I looked down, not wanting to hear her. A pang hit my side and I welcomed the pain. “Why did you wait so long to tell me?”

Her shoulders drooped. “It’s not like you’ve been around, Jess.”

“So you’re just going to go out with some guy you don’t even know?”

“His name is Ryan. And isn’t that what dates are? I may not have ever been on one before, but isn’t that what they’re supposed to be? Two strangers, one meal, a bit of conversation.”

Please don’t do this.

“I just want to be normal. Can’t you just me happy for me?” she pleaded.

Part III

Progress

It’s not supposed to be comfortable. It’s supposed to tug, tear, pull your hair, beat you senseless, and challenge everything you know. It’s not supposed to tickle, it’s supposed to rip your guts out and serve them to you on a platter.

That’s what progress is all about. We arrive on the other side with the knowledge of how we got there, never forgetting the struggle.

There’s always going to be a story behind massive change.

That’s how beauty is created.

The trick is remembering.

-Jesse

Chapter One

Charlie

I hadn’t lied. I just wish I hadn’t said so much.

There was a reason that alcohol and I didn’t mix well. A reminder was all I needed.

Regardless of Jesse’s intentions with those phone numbers, they still stung when I held them in my palm. They probably hurt just as much as my words to him the night before. I didn’t like what the phone numbers could’ve meant; maybe I didn’t
want
to know why he gave them to me. There was still a part of me that only saw the bad when it came to myself.

Residual ghosts. I had a feeling it would be a while before they went away.

He drove me home the night before, and we didn’t speak. We still hadn’t spoken. It had been fifteen hours and twenty-three minutes since we’d said a word to each other.

A part of him lived inside of me. I didn’t care how strange it sounded. I’d borrowed his courage and his confidence until I could build up enough inside myself to go it alone. Everyone used a crutch when they needed one; mine was just more unconventional than the norm.

It was
that
strength I’d pulled from inside of me when I said yes to my first date. A date that was about to happen in a few minutes.

Exactly how I’d explained it to Jesse, Ryan had come into the restaurant the previous Wednesday with a group of friends. I hadn’t seen them immediately because I had my head buried in my journal. But when I looked around the room, our eyes met.

And I wasn’t nervous. He wore his hair in long dreads, and he looked away shyly when he realized we’d stared at each other for a moment longer than we should have. It wasn’t until the rest of his friends left that he found the courage to walk to my booth.

His long fingers swept his hair back, and he spoke softly.
“Hi,”
he’d said.

My stomach flipped and I gave him a warm smile.
“Hi,”
I’d said back.

“May I sit with you?”

I nodded, and we talked for over an hour.

He asked me questions, sincerely wanting to know the answers, and not poking or prodding my reasoning. He hadn’t come on too strong and there wasn’t anything threatening in his tone. Just…a nice guy. An artist, a musician, he lived with his parents—like me—and went to school full time.

And so what about Jesse? Should I have been concerned with how he felt about it? I cared. I cared more than he would ever know. Maybe there was a part of me that wanted his jealousy, or a part of me that hoped he’d somehow stop me from going through with it.

If I was being honest with myself, the thought of taking things to the next level with Jesse scared the shit out of me. There was too much intensity between us. Too much history. Too many things about him that made me doubt myself. Who he was to me held too much weight.

The contradiction of what he meant to me and the man he actually was alarmed me. That didn’t make us some kind of epic love story. That was just me, reading into what I meant to him.

And the only way to stop it was to move on.

No matter how much I wanted to believe I knew him, and that I could feel his thoughts, we still hadn’t admitted that what we had went beyond a friendship. I knew what we had. So did he.

Maybe somewhere deep down I knew what he was going to tell me, but didn’t want the confession to come. I’d continually interrupted him in fear he’d say the words out loud that had been shouting at me in my head for weeks. Because I wasn’t sure what I wanted to hear him say anymore.

The ‘yes’ I gave to Ryan had more to do with me than it did with Jesse. Ryan was exactly what I needed, when I needed him. There was no pressure to be someone special. Either I was or I wasn’t.

The point was that he thought I
could
be. Upon first glance, I could’ve been someone to him. Upon
first
glance. That meant more to me than accepting the date.

I worked that afternoon, and we had arranged to meet at The Crimson at six o’clock that night. After my shift, I hurried to the bathroom and put on a black pencil skirt and V-neck red sweater. He’d mentioned coffee, so I wasn’t concerned about a dress code.

But the moment I slung my purse into a booth in the bar, I realized that our location hadn’t been the most discreet. Angie and Karalee were ecstatic for me and they giggled in the corner, keeping their eyes on the front door.

My eyes shifted wildly, sensing Jesse was near. I looked over my shoulder and around the bar. Then I lifted my chin to see over the partitioned wall to get a view of the kitchen. But I couldn’t see him.

I should’ve told Ryan to meet me someplace else.

“Hey, Red.” I jumped as Jesse slid into the booth. His eyes were glossy and he slurred his words. “Come here often?”

I slouched and looked away. “You’re drunk.”

He grabbed the menu from the stand at the edge of the table and panned his options.

“I’m not staying tonight,” I added.

He raised a brow without pulling his eyes from the menu. “Can’t I order food? Why would I give a shit if you stayed?”

I cleared my throat and buried my hands underneath me.

“Oh, that’s right. You have a little date tonight, don’t you?”

He laughed. It was a courtesy laugh that I hadn’t seen since the night I met him.

“Are you going to fuck him?” he asked without looking up, adding emphasis to the word
fuck
. He closed the menu and leaned over the table to speak softly. “Or are you going to hold off on that for a while?” he continued, talking quickly. “Maybe give him blowjobs and handjobs for the rest of your life? Greet his parents every evening with a handshake that smells like their son’s sac? Let him blow his load down your throat five minutes before you kiss his mother goodbye on the cheek?” He swallowed, and his eyes welled with tears. “Because that would make you nothing but a whore, Charlie.” The tone in his voice was entirely different from the look in his eyes. “That’s the kind of girl that gets used. Someone worthy of being called a tramp. Just don’t come crying to me when the tingling scabs form around your mouth, because I’m not the kind of guy who deals with sluts.”

“No, you’re not,” I snapped back, keeping my voice low. “You’re the kind of guy who would fuck a fourteen-year-old if it was legal. That screams ‘class.’ Hell, Ryan’s
dad
couldn’t even pass for my boyfriend. So I guess there’s one thing our choices don’t have in common.”

“You’re a fucking bitch.”

“Am I interrupting something?” Ryan’s voice came from beside us.

I looked up and softened my scowl. Ryan’s dreads were pulled back into a low ponytail and his dark green eyes smiled down on me.

“Hey!” I chirped. Ryan looked over at Jesse, and I’d never seen a smirk on Jesse’s face so evil.

“We should go,” I said quickly, grabbing my purse.

“It’s not like you to be rude,
Charlene
,” Jess cut in. “Introduce me to your new friend here.”

I worried what he would say. I feared what kind of backlash it would cause. I was scared of what Ryan would think about the company I kept. Jesse’s words from a few seconds earlier still wreaked havoc to my stomach, and I regretted what kind of person was rooted so deeply into my heart.

“I’m Ryan. It’s nice to meet you.”

Jesse bounced to a stand but fumbled his balance. Holding the table for support, he shrugged his shirt into place. “Hey,
new friend
. I’m Jesse, Charlie’s
bestest
friend in the whole wide world.”

“Oh! She told me about you. Hey, man.” Ryan held out his hand, but Jesse merely stared at it as if it were his enemy.

“Come on, Ryan,” I urged with a tug on his shirt. “Let’s go.”

“What did she say about me?” Jesse slurred. “Come on, we’re all friends here.” He held his arms out at his sides and looked around the bar. “What did she tell you?”

I rubbed my forehead, kept my head down, and held my breath.

Ryan shrugged and looked over at me. His eyes held concern, but he answered Jess anyway. “Your name came up randomly in conversation. She didn’t say much.”

“No? She didn’t say much?” Jess countered.

“No.” Ryan shrugged again. “Not that I remember.”

Jesse grabbed his arm. “So she didn’t tell you about the night we met? Or about the frogs and the dragonflies? Did she tell you about the park or the CD I made for her or the cabin? Did she tell you about the cabin? That’s a good story…”

All I could do was watch silently as the mania took over. Stopping him would’ve caused more harm than good. He was digging his own grave and there was nothing I could do about it.

“…Did she forget to mention the time she bailed me out of jail and the nights we stayed up talking and not talking and the family reunion I took her to? Did she tell you about my bipolar or that time we held each other in her bed or all the times I was an asshole to her when she didn’t deserve it?” He scratched his nose and blinked his eyes. His body was frail and his eyes held no light. “What about the song I wrote for her? Did she tell you about that?”

My chin quivered as I squeezed my eyes shut. I had nothing to say. If there was a song, I didn’t know about it. And if what he was saying held some kind of confession about how he felt about me, he was definitely doing it the wrong way.

I’d put up with that mouth of his for months. How much longer could I do it without calling him out on it? How much longer could I let him treat me that way? He’d quite possibly ruined any chance I had at enjoying my first date—that was if Ryan still wanted to take me.

“Ryan?” My voice caught in my throat. “Can I talk to Jesse for a moment alone?”

“Of course,” Ryan mumbled and stepped into the lobby.

I closed the distance between us. “You wrote me a song?”

He rolled his eyes and huffed out a breath. “But it doesn’t matter, does it? I saw the way you looked at him just now.” He raked his hands through his hair. “Fuck. He made you blush, Charlie,” he whispered, pain riddling his eyes as he held his side. “Fuck this. Go.” He stepped away from me and raised his voice. “Go have fun with your dirty, smelly, scrawny hippie. I’m sure he’ll be perfect for you.”

“Jess, I’ll stay. I’ll stay, I will.”

He shook his head, biting the inside of his cheek. “You won’t.” His hands balled into fists. “Fly away, little bug,” he whispered and walked out of the bar.

I stood for a moment trying to come up with a compromise. I could’ve run to the lobby and told Ryan I needed to reschedule, then gone off to find Jess. But when would enough be enough? Would I keep running to him for the rest of my life, making him some ongoing project that was sure to thwart my happiness?

I don’t know why I was always so obsessed with him. There was a light about him that was clouded by regret, hate, and abandonment. Maybe it was that I knew I was the only one who could help. Or it could have been because he’d let me into a place that no one had ever been before. But I’d tried the best I could. I’d fought like hell to blow away the dust and clean up the ashes so that the light could shine through.

And I’d failed.

The right thing to do was to let Jess go, go on my date, and deal with any repercussions later. He’d left me hanging dozens of times before, keeping me in the dark about how he felt.

The right decision should’ve been obvious, but it tore me up inside to think about leaving Jesse alone.

He was a friend in need.

Jesse had walked toward the kitchen, likely out to his car in the lot behind the building. And Ryan waited patiently in the lobby, trying to act interested in the wall-mounted plaque that held The Crimson’s history.

Maybe I needed to take Jesse’s advice and put myself first for once. Or maybe I should’ve run toward the kitchen, through the swinging doors, and out to the parking lot. Jess was probably waiting for me on the hood of my car.

But I didn’t.

I followed my gut and walked toward the lobby.

Proving to myself that I was worth some fucking effort was what I needed to do. No matter how Jesse felt about me because of it.

“You ready?” I asked Ryan.

“Are you okay? Is
he
okay?”

I exhaled. “He’ll be fine. He was just drunk. He’ll go home and sleep it off.”

He scratched the back of his neck. “Are you sure? It seemed like he—”

“I’m sure.” I pushed the breath from my lungs and the dread from my eyes. “He does this a lot.”

Nodding his agreement, he set his hand on the small of my back and opened the door. “Still up for coffee, then?”

***

For the majority of the ride to Minneapolis, I was entangled in confliction. Not only had I pushed my concern for Jesse aside, but I also had to wonder if I’d made the right decision. My stomach ached. I was wrong for the right reasons and right for the wrong ones.

But if I was going to make any progress in the
me
department, I had to start somewhere.