Love Scars - 4: Exposed Read online
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“I’ll be right back.” I laid the kitchen cloth on the counter. “I need to turn off the fountain.” I slipped outside and jogged to the flower garden. It felt good to move, to get my heart pumping from something other than J.D. Reider.
The fountain was indeed on. The roses in the garden were gorgeous and fragrant. Half the peonies were blooming, and the unopened buds were covered by ants going after their nectar. I patted the iron fairy’s head for good luck and sat down on the bench. I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of the water.
Stanford. I was truly thrilled for Stacey and truly pissed she felt she couldn’t tell me about it. And if I was honest with myself, I had to admit I was jealous. Stanford. My Stanford was an old dream, an almost-was, a fading memory of foregone opportunity.
Stacey’s Stanford was going to be real.
God. How could I be so dig-in-the-dirt green with envy, yet so happy for her at the same time? And J.D…. That was all wrong in the kitchen just now. I’d started to fall back into an old habit, one I thought I’d purged in fire. I wanted to use him. Throw him on the floor and ride him hard, drive every feeling out of my body until there was nothing left to feel.
“How are you doing?” J.D.’s velvet voice rumbled beside me, and I opened my eyes.
He was at the other end of the bench with two cold beers, and he handed me one with a sympathetic smile that made me shiver. I didn’t trust my sense of things. I couldn’t be sure his concern was real or a product of my own longing. My crazy experience with relationships had me screwed up.
I couldn’t—didn’t want to—remember how many guys I’d slept with in my year of living dangerously. One or two of them actually might have liked me, but I was so messed up then. Beyond reach.
Then I fled to the other end of the spectrum. Virtual celibacy. I buried myself in school and taking care of Stacey and my friendship with Lisa and a semi-satisfying relationship with my hand-held showerhead. I’d become pretty much stuck here at the Carolinda convent.
J.D. looked so good. His loose brown hair fell forward, framing his face. I loved his muscular cheekbones and his Goldilocks lips—not too thin, not too thick, but just right. He was wearing his Mephisto sandals again and jeans that looked expensive and new. His sky blue sleeveless tank had BlueMagick embroidered in silver thread on the front. I could easily lean over and touch his arm, invite myself into his embrace.
“I honestly have no idea how I’m doing.” I took a sip of the beer. “The two people I love most are getting exactly what they want, but it feels like my world is falling apart. I'm happy for them, but…”
“Sad for yourself.”
“Yeah.” A tear rolled down my cheek. I laughed and wiped it away. “Sheesh. It sounds so stupid and self-centered when I say it out loud.”
“Never. It makes perfect sense. Your best friend and roommate is getting married, and you just found out your niece is going to away to school when you didn’t even know it was a possibility. You haven’t adjusted yet. My mom cried for a week when I told her I was going to college in California.”
“Where are you from?”
“Seattle.”
“Nice. I’ve always wanted to visit Seattle. Actually, more north. Vancouver Island.”
“Butchart Gardens,” he said. “I remember.”
That was cool he remembered our conversation the other morning. Not even a week ago! I felt like I’d known him all my life. “So where did you go to college?”
“Stanford, actually.”
Were the gods mocking me? “No way.”
“Brad too, I’m afraid. He was a legacy—though he hates being called that. His dad went there.”
“Did Brad pull strings to get Stacey in?” I said. “I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
“Creepy, huh?” J.D. said. “But no. Don’t worry. Brad’s not weird. Five years ago, his sister died in a car crash along with his dad. She would have been Stacey’s age. It makes him feel better to take on the big brother role again.”
“That’s a pretty nice big brother, arranging for a $25,000 scholarship.”
“Now that I’m sure he did have a hand in. He has a lot of influence at BlueMagick.”
“Oh, that’s right,” I said. “He got you the job there.”
“Yeah, well.” J.D. turned red and took a drink of his beer. “It’s good to have friends. Brad’s always been a good friend to me. As you are to Lisa and Stacey.”
“Yeah, well.” I mimicked him. This was nice, just talking, sharing. “Lately it seems the universe is telling me to focus less on my friends and more on myself. As you’ve witnessed, I have some issues I’ve been avoiding.”
“Issues.”
The word sounded neutral, without judgment, but there was a gentle question mark in J.D.’s voice. An invitation to open up. No demand. No pressure.
“You saw a demonstration last Friday,” I said. “I had a flashback to when my family was killed.”
“That would give a person issues,” J.D. said. “Did they ever catch who did it?”
“Right away, thank god,” I said. “I saw…some of it. He had these ugly, stupid tattoos on his face. A thick black plus sign on one cheek and a minus sign on the other. The police knew who he was by the tats.”
“Where were you?”
“At our cabin in the foothills.” Enough. Danger. Change the subject. “Not far from the Barton dig, actually.”
“The internship you and Brad are taking.”
“If he’s he’s still going.” I’d forgotten to ask earlier.
“He must be,” J.D. said. “He said there’s an orientation on Friday.”
“It will be the first time I’ve gone back up there since it happened. For so long I tried to put it out of my mind. I couldn’t bear to even hear the name of the town. Foresthill.” He was so easy to talk to. I was surprised—and relieved—as I said the word without freezing up. It was easier each time.
“What happened to the guy?”
“He was in a gang that grew pot on public land. He told the police he thought we were trespassing on their turf. He’s in Pelican Bay now. The jury gave him the death penalty. I don’t like to think about him. I won’t give him one second more of my life.”
“I don’t presume to know what you feel, Nora, but you seem to be handling things well.”
“Except when something like last Friday happens.”
We were coming to it again. Close to the thing I’d never told anyone, not even the therapist. I didn't even remember what it was anymore. Something terrible, kept safe behind a wall in my mind. A wall I never stepped around or looked behind.
“Nora, I’m so sorry.”
J.D. took hold of my hands. They’d clenched into hard fists again. He kissed one and then the other. Silently, he rubbed them one at a time until they were open and relaxed.
“What about you?” I said. My heart was pounding. Couldn’t he hear? If this conversation didn’t get back to a safer place, I wouldn’t be able to account for myself. “I take it you weren’t a legacy, so you got into Stanford on your own. Were your parents supportive, aside from your mom crying?”
“My mom is great,” J.D. said. “You’d like her. She’s an artist, and she’s amazing. Other than naming me Jaxom Draco, as a mom she’s done everything right.”
“Come on. That’s a very cool name.”
“Maybe now. Let’s just say my life as a kid improved immensely after I got everyone to call me J.D.”
“What about your dad?” I said. “What’s he like?”
“Who knows? The asshole walked away from us when I was five. I never saw him again until I was eighteen. I’d had some good luck then, and he showed up wanting to share in the spoils.”
“What, did you win the lottery?”
“Something like that.”
“Money changes everything,” I said. “Didn’t someone write a song about that?”
“One or two people.” J.D. smiled again. I could look at his smile all day, e
very day.
“Who knows?” I said. “I might win the lottery soon.” I thought of Steve’s bonus money. “I could pay for the rest of Stanford for Stacey. She’d start med school debt-free.”
There was the check for fifty grand still in my bag. I decided we’d better forget about new cars, in the all-too-likely event there’d be no fabulous bonus. Stacey could ride her new bike at school and take the train home for visits. I didn’t need a new car. I’d have my AC fixed.
“God,” I said. “Life would be so much easier if there was enough money.”
“No one needs too much,” J.D. said. “But everyone needs enough. Not just material things. Enough love too.”
I hoped he wasn’t throwing me a pity party. “I have plenty of friends.” It came out more defensive than I’d intended.
“Friendship is good.” He moved closer. “But it’s not the same.” He fingered my earring and touched my earlobe, sending shivers over my skin. He searched my eyes. “It’s too easy to push love away. Easy to forget we need it as much as we need air and sunlight.”
“J.D.”
“Nora.” Suddenly his lips found mine, and his arms surrounded me. I fit perfectly in his embrace. His mouth was hot and eager. He kissed my ear and my throat, and I ran my fingers through his hair. He squeezed my breast, and I moaned a little. The space between my legs swelled and throbbed.
“Mm.” The rumbling sound of his voice made me crazy.
I stood up and took his hand. “Come with me.” It was time. I was taking him to my room, and he wasn’t getting away until morning. We walked back, under the Japanese maple, down the path and across the lawn, holding hands.
Brad was sitting alone on the deck, drinking a beer.
“Hey, guys,” he said. “Stacey said to tell you she left with her friends for the movie.” He looked from me to J.D. Comprehension came over him, and he stood up and grinned. “So I’m going to take off then.” He tossed his empty bottle into the recycling bin.
“Can you give me a ride home?” J.D. said.
The world lurched sideways, and I felt sick to my stomach. What just happened? What was the point of that crap about pushing love away?
“Um. Sure,” Brad said. He looked as bewildered as I felt.
The next few minutes held an eternity of awkward silence. J.D. didn’t look at me until he was in Brad’s SUV, his arm draped over the open window. As they backed away, he waved.
What in hell was that all about?
-oOo-
“What in hell was that all about, J.D.?” Brad’s tone said it all. He thought I was an idiot.
The betrayal on Nora’s face was killing me, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her. It was my punishment to witness the confusion and pain I’d caused.
Mercifully, we reached the end of the driveway and Brad turned onto the road. “She wanted you to stay,” he said. “It was obvious.”
“I wanted to stay. I wanted to bad,” I said. “But how could I? What was I going to do tomorrow morning when she offered to give me a ride home? How would I explain my house?”
“You could have stayed long enough to do the deed and then called me to come get you before she woke up.”
“Oh, yeah. Classy. That would earn me big points.”
“You’re fucked, dude.”
“No, I’m not.” I had the desperate hope I could make it good in the end. “Everything will be all right. As soon as this mess with MolyMo is cleared up, we have to come clean. Tell them who we are.”
“Why not come clean now?”
“Because first you’re going to find out what Heron has her doing at the dig. Until then, she has to believe you’re just another intern from her seminar.”
“If we explain things, maybe she’ll tell us Heron’s plans,” Brad said. “After all, we’re the good guys.”
“Why would she believe we’re the good guys?” I said. “I’ve lied to Nora since I met her. Come to think of it, you’ve been lying to everybody too.”
“Yeah, but in my case it doesn’t matter anymore,” Brad said. “I’ve lost the girl forever.”
“Your problem is you’re too damn polite,” I said. “Have you ever once told Lisa how you feel?”
“I didn’t want to push in,” Brad said. “I wanted her to want me first.”
“It might have worked, too,” I said. “If she was a feral cat.”
We got to the house and I jumped out, still furious with myself. I should have thought out in advance how I’d get home—but then I wasn’t expecting to stay. I slammed the door, and my eyes caught something in the back bed of the SUV.
“Aw, fuck me!”
“What now?” Brad said.
“I could have borrowed your bike.”
“Dude, you are such a loser.” Brad burst out laughing.
I couldn’t argue with him. After all this was over, even if Nora forgave me for lying about who I was, how could she forgive me for being such an asshole?
Chapter 3
Like an idiot I stood there after the SUV disappeared, staring at the emptiness at the end of the driveway. I touched my lips and imagined the lingering pressure of J.D.’s kisses. He’d meant every one of those kisses. I was sure of it.
So why did I feel exposed and ridiculous?
I went back through the side gate, pulled the scrunchie out of my ponytail and let my hair fall around my shoulders. In the kitchen I opened the fridge and stared mindlessly.
I’m not really on Team Beer, except to go with pizza, but I didn’t want to mix alcohol—and I definitely wanted more alcohol—so I popped open another Pale Ale and grabbed the rest of the chips. In the living room I looked through our DVDs for something to take my mind off J.D.
Off my life.
My DVDs were all British treatments of Charles Dickens and Anthony Trollope and deep meaningful bullshit I couldn’t take right now. And forget Lisa’s romantic comedies. If I got anywhere near Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone, I’d just cry. Stacey’s stuff was a weird mix of violence and fluff. At the moment I had less than zero interest in Disney princesses, and I could never stand Hollywood action movies.
I liked her Wuxia collection though. I popped Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon into the player.
Mistake. Ten minutes in, I remembered its angsty love story. Forget that. I switched to cable, a luxury Lisa insisted on paying for. She loves politics and had to have HBO for The Newsroom.
“What the…” My heart caught in my throat, and I almost dropped my beer on the couch. J.D. was on the screen. But it wasn’t him. Only an actor who looked like him at a certain angle.
The 2011 version of Jane Eyre was playing on Showtime. I hate that version. It ruins everything exquisite about the book. Fukanaga either never read it or never understood the story. The only redeeming element of his Jane Eyre is his Mr. Rochester, Michael Fassbender.
Who very much, in this movie anyway, had the look of an older J.D.
I sat through the entire appalling mess then went to bed and cried myself to sleep before anybody got home.
The next morning Lisa wandered out to the kitchen as the kettle came to a boil. She was still in her pajamas, her hair a messy blond halo, and she was rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
“Coffee.” She said. “Must have coffee.”
“Where’s Frank? Didn’t he bring you home last night?” I changed the No. 4 filter for a No. 6 and added some more grounds. I didn’t know why Frank was always bitching about our coffee. It wasn’t espresso, but it was never meant to be.
“I told him to go home,” Lisa said. “He’ll be here for three weeks starting Monday, and after we get married he’ll have me forever. I needed a preemptive break.”
“Three weeks. It doesn’t seem real.” I got the half and half from the fridge and we took our coffee outside. “Like I’m not really going. It feels like someone else’s plan. Or like I’m going to die before I get there.”
“Jayzus fuck, Nor. What a thing to say.”
“I know.
I’m in a pissy mood,” I said. “It’ll pass.”
“Well, your orientation’s tomorrow.” Lisa said. “Are you ready?”
“Yeah. I guess so.” I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know. Thank god it’s only a few hours.”
“I wish I could go with you, but I took last Friday off. I can’t get another one so soon.”
“Thanks for the thought, but I need to do this on my own.” It hit me that pretty soon I’d be doing everything on my own. “This house is going to be cavernous next fall. I can’t imagine you and Stacey not being here.”
“I’m going to miss this,” Lisa said. “I love sitting out on the deck in our jammies with our morning coffee.”
“Did Frank tell you I said he could move in? It was before I knew he was going to propose. I don’t know what I was thinking. Maybe we’d all live here together. One big happy commune.”
Lisa rolled her eyes. “Frank wouldn’t move in with all of us. He wants me to himself. Or he wants a kitchen all to himself; I’m not sure which is more important.”
“You do love Frank. Don’t you, Lisa?”
She looked down at her coffee then out at the lawn. I was ready to let it go when she said, “I do. Frank’s always been so…persistent. It’s easier to love him than not to.”
“Like the Borg,” I said. “Resistance is futile.”
“Just about.” She smiled. “I’m used to him.”
“It doesn’t sound very romantic.”
“He’s comfortable. Steady. Dependable. With Frank, I know exactly what my life is going to be like.”
“No excitement,” I said.
“No drama,” she said.
“No mystery.”
“No secrets.”
She had me there. J.D. was driving me crazy with his secrets. And what had my secrets ever done for me? I shuddered. Steady and dependable sounded fucking awesome. “I can’t argue with that, Lees.”
“Brad is new and interesting,” she said quietly. “I won’t deny he’s nerdoliciously gorgeous.”
“Ew.”
“I think I was attracted to him from the beginning. Even when he was gay.”