After Tuesday (19 page)

“Yep, you’re probably right.”

Or maybe my whole world has just blown up in my face.

It’s my first day back since spring, and I fall right into a familiar pattern with Patty and Sarah, two other servers. Since I started working here last year, we’ve just worked alongside one another, not talking much. With the mornings generally busy with regulars, it makes things easy. Throughout the day, many of my customers are happy to see me again, and it shows when they tip me generously. Right now, it’s nice to have some consistency among all the chaos.

When my shift is over, I say good-bye to Ron and tell him I’ll see him next Saturday. I’m only working weekends since track practices will start soon. When the season starts, my schedule will change again.

As I’m driving toward my house, I’m half-tempted to not go home at all, but then I think it might be better to face the music and get the first interaction with my dad over with. Emotionally, I’m feeling so many things. I have no idea how I’ll handle seeing him, but I hold my head up high when I enter the house. It’s empty. He’s not even here.
That figures. Typical.

As I walk into the kitchen, I see a note with his handwriting on top of a pile of mail on the table. Without reading it, I stick the note in my pocket and then shift through the mail to make sure we aren’t behind on any bills. Then, I see an opened letter from Colorado.
That’s weird; we never get stuff from there.
All our accounts are closed. Before reading its contents, I glance over the header to see that it’s from a cemetery. Everything starts to come together.
This must be what Dad was reading when I came home yesterday.
It has to be what set him off. It doesn’t seem like a big deal, but for a recovering addict, I guess anything can do it.

Dear Mr. Miller,

We regret to inform you that due to a recent rise in the water table, we need to move the remains of some our residents. This includes the loved one you have resting at plot #2453. While the remains are currently safe, we feel it is necessary to take this precautionary measure. We understand this can be a trying time for many families, and we send our deepest apologies and condolences. Please contact us at your earliest convenience, so we can find a suitable and satisfactory resting place for your loved one.

Sincerely,

Adam Chester

Owner, Gate Street Cemetery

Well, that’s that. I wonder what will happen next?
I pull the note out of my pocket to see what my dad has to say.

Tuesday-

Went to a meeting. Please forgive me. I’m sorry.

Love,

Dad

I let out a defeated sigh. I was so pissed and disappointed in him last night and now…well, now, I can see he is trying. He’s doing the right thing. He messed up, and he’s not running away. He’s facing it. I guess I should be relieved that he’s doing the right thing, but truth be told I just ache.

Is this my fault?
I saw the signs and did nothing. 

Throwing his note back on the table, I go to take a shower, determined to face the rest of the day.

***

When I get out of the bathroom, I see I have two new text messages, neither from Brent. One is from Cody, and the other one is from Lexi. I read Cody’s first, knowing he can’t do anything at this point to make things worse.

Is your Dad OK? Just got the message from Benji.

A little too late, Cody.
Well, at least, he checked in.
That counts for something, right?
I can’t take out my frustrations on him.
Oh well, what’s done is done.

Then, I read the next message to see what Lexi has to say.

Call me ASAP. We need to talk!

Shit! Does the whole school already know about my loser dad’s antics?
I am not prepared for that.
Why didn’t I just lay low for senior year?
It was working so well for me before.
If people didn’t know I existed, then they wouldn’t care about what went on in my life.
Making friends has opened a giant can of worms, and instead of dirt, my worms seem to be living in manure.

I wonder how long I can put off calling her before she starts to stalk me. Lexi isn’t known for her patience, especially when she has something on her mind. I have a feeling this something has to do with Brent and me being in a bar last night with a very intoxicated person.
Better to just get this over with. No need to avoid the inevitable
. I pick up the phone and call her, hoping that I’m just overreacting.

 “Ruby!” Lexi practically screams. “I have something I need to tell you.”

“Okay.” I’m scared what she’s going to say next.

“You are not gonna believe what I heard at the soccer game this morning. By the way, we missed seeing you there. Anyhow, I was talking to Casey, and she got some major info on Frankie. You will not believe this. Do you remember how she broke up with Brent over the summer because she wanted to have fun and not be tied down?”

“Yeah, I remember,” I say, my voice sounding monotone compared to her excitement.

“Well, it turns out that she did want to be tied down, just not to Brent. Apparently, one of the boys at Garfield High hooked up with her. Oh, and that’s not all! Pictures of them making out are posted all over this guy’s Facebook page. Isn’t that a riot?”

No, actually, it isn’t. Brent must feel so humiliated.

“I guess,” I say only to satisfy her.

“So, it looks like you don’t need to worry about her trying to get Brent back. Man, he looked pissed today. Everyone was talking about Frankie’s little fling while we were at the game.”

Is this why she’s calling me?

“Right. So, who won?” I try changing the subject. I don’t want to talk about Frankie.

“Oh, we did. Brent was on fire and scored six goals. It was almost crazy to watch him manage so many. Although, I think everyone was just scared of the way he looked and acted. That reminds me. What’s going on with him? I asked Owen, but he had no idea. I couldn’t ask Brent because he left quickly after the game.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, he wasn’t talking to anyone, I guess. He just sort of kept to himself, which isn’t like him. Owen said Brent was acting weird. I think he’s just pissed about the pictures of Frankie. I mean, they were together forever.”

“Yeah,” I grumble.
Thanks, Lexi, for bringing up the idea that Brent might still have feelings for Frankie. I’m not feeling crappy enough here.

“But that wasn’t all,” she continues. “Do you know what happened to his face? He looked horrible.”

“What do you mean?” I ask curiously.

“He looked like he got into a bar fight. He has two black eyes. What’s up with that?”

He didn’t look that bad last night.
Damn.
I think I know what happened. I bet that hit to his nose settled into his sinuses. That happened once to Cody during a fight. His face was used to try and knock over a tree. All the blood settled around his eyes, and he looked like a raccoon for days.
Shit, things just keep getting better and better.

“He does?” I feign ignorance.
Best to just lay low.

“Yeah, he does. What did you guys do last night?”

“We went out on the lake,” I respond, my tone a little too short.

“I guess something must have happened after. Sounds like your date was romantic though. Why do you sound like you didn’t have a good time?”

“I did. I’m just tired. I had to get up early for my shift this morning.” I fake a yawn. “Can I talk to you later?”

“Sure.” There’s a bit of a pause. “Hey, Ruby?”

“Yeah?”

“Let’s all go out tonight, okay? You sound like you could use some fun.”

“Okay, I’ll call you later.”

I have no idea why I’m agreeing to this. Things are bad, and I know it. After I say good-bye and hang up, I reach for my running clothes. I need one of my many go-to escapes.

***

Two hours later, I’m sitting by the lake after my run with still no call, no text, and no email from Brent. It’s an overcast day, so the water doesn’t glisten its usual magnificence. As I sit alone, overlooking the serene lake, I feel very much like a
me
because the
we
no longer seems to exist. I stare at my phone, willing it to ring, but nothing happens. I think he would have called by now to talk about last night, but I guess I’m wrong. I have so many things I want to say to him. I want to tell him I’m sorry for what happened with my dad, that I’m sorry for arguing with him, that I’m not perfect, and that my life isn’t exactly normal.

After I wipe a tear from my eye, I notice the time.
Is it really six o’clock?
Well, I guess Brent isn’t going to call. Then, it hits me. He
really
isn’t going to call. He said he would, but he hasn’t.

I close my eyes, breathing hard. Trying to control my quivering lip, my nose starts to drip, and I can feel my body shudder slightly. I’m sobbing, really sobbing, as I feel my loss two times over—one for my father and one for Brent.

I internally kick myself for loving them both and for sleeping with Brent.
What was I thinking
?

Attempting to calm down, I slow my breaths and wipe my face to regain composure. I’m probably just overreacting.
He could have other things going on, right?
Maybe he just needs some time to cool off. Well, I can’t just sit here, not knowing. It’s breaking me to pieces.

We are still a
we
. I need answers, so I’m going to demand them. I pick up my phone and text him.

Can we talk?

I put the phone down, refusing to obsess, as I stare at the water and wait. Five minutes go by before he texts me back.

Sure.

Sure? That’s it? What is that?

I quickly reply.

Can I see you?

My hands are shaking now.
I hate this.
I’m trying so hard to hold it together, but if he doesn’t even want to see me, then…I don’t know. I’m staring at the phone, waiting for his reply, when it begins to ring.
It’s him.
My phone rings four times before I snap out of it and take the call.

“Hey,” I answer. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, sounding distant.

“Listen, I am
so
sorry about last night. Well, not the…well, you know, but the other part that happened later. I don’t—”

“Ruby, I don’t know what to say right now, but I’ve got to tell you I’m just so…I mean, what was that?”

“What do you mean?” I ask defensively.

“The bar, you…and that guy who gave me two black eyes. By the way, I covered for you. Is that guy your dad? Fuck. My parents weren’t happy at all when they saw me this morning.”

He’s pissed.

“What did you tell them?” I whisper, wiping the sweat from palms onto my shorts.

“I said the canoe fell on my face as we carried it to the water. It’s not like I could tell them I got into a bar fight. How did you even get in there? Do you go there a lot or something?”

“No!” I say incredulously. “I never go there.”

“It didn’t look that way to me. Why does the bartender know you?”

“He knows my dad.” I sigh. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have followed me,” I say, trying to put the blame on him.
I’m such a coward.

“I shouldn’t have followed you? Are you kidding me? I told you that I didn’t follow you. I saw you while I was driving home. I thought it was weird that you were going into a bar, and it seemed a little dangerous to me. I thought I could help, but you seemed right at home. You didn’t need my help at all. In fact, I guess I only got in the way,” he says, his voice starting to heat up.

This is not good.

“Brent, it’s not like that.”

“What isn’t it like? Nothing makes any sense. Are you frequenting bars? What the hell? I’m not even sure I know you.”

Ouch, that hurts.

“Brent, it’s me. You know me. Of course, you know me.” The words leave my mouth somewhat desperately.

“Do I, Ruby? I’m not so sure which Ruby I’m talking to right now. The Ruby I took to the island,
our island,
last night isn’t the same Ruby who casually goes to bars with her dad or thinks it’s okay for her boyfriend to get his face pummeled by her dad.”

“I don’t think that. I don’t think that at all.” I’m on the verge of tears, feeling everything crumbling before me.

During a long pause, all I can hear is his ragged breaths.

Finally, he says, “I’m not so sure about us anymore.”

I literally stop breathing.

He continues, “I thought I knew, but now I—”

“Stop. You don’t have to say it. I get it,” I tell him, my hurt turning to rage.
I know when I’m being pushed away. I know when I’m not necessary in someone’s life.

“Maybe we should take some time—”

“No, that’s enough. You don’t need to be nice about it. I get it. I’m not an idiot. I get it.”

“I’m just not so sure about—”

“I get it, Brent! Okay?”

I’m shaking so bad. Tears are beginning to flow, and I want to scream. I need to get off the phone. I can’t listen to him while he tries to let me down easy. I don’t care what his reasons are. It’s obvious he doesn’t trust me at all, and he doesn’t want to be with me anymore. It’s not that I blame him. I can see the way last night must have looked to him. I thought he didn’t care about that stuff. I thought he only cared about me and nothing else.

I guess he can add me as a notch on his bedpost, too.
Great, now, I’m a statistic.
I thought it was about love.
I’m an idiot.

“Ruby, I’m sorry,” he says barely above a whisper.

“No, Brent, I’m sorry,” I say through gritted teeth.

I hang up immediately, and it takes everything in me not to toss my phone in the water. The overwhelming feeling of loss takes over as I weep uncontrollably in front of the lake. I feel helpless, unloved, and worthless. My father doesn’t think his life or my life are worth fighting for. Now, Brent—a boy I never wanted in the first place who somehow seduced me with his charm—doesn’t want me. He made me believe that I loved him and he loved me.