Anything Less Than Everything (12 page)

“Well, I
don’t know about that. I mean, things aren’t perfect between us or anything.
She still thinks my frustration over her meddling had to do with the fact that
Spencer cheated.”

“As opposed
to just her meddling.”

“Well, yeah,”
I said. “I mean, I shouldn’t have to endure infidelity and humiliation to be
able to end a relationship. That part she still doesn’t get.” And I wasn’t sure
she ever would. But for now I was content to have my mother back in my life and
Spencer out of it.

Or so I
thought.

W
hen I was fourteen my parents took me
to an amusement park a few hours away to celebrate my starting high school.
“Wild and Wicked” was the newest, fastest roller coaster at the park, and
I--and everyone else within a three state radius--couldn’t wait to ride it. My
dad and I have never had all that much in common, but as an engineer, he loved
roller coasters almost as much as I did, if for a different reason. And so it
was he who waited in a two hour line in the sweltering heat with me that day.
The line inched slowly forward. I could tell Dad was bored, but I was so
excited that I didn’t even mind the wait, using the time to people watch.

When our turn
to ride finally came, we pulled the harnesses down over our heads, tightened
our seat belts, and steeled our stomachs. The coaster
clack-clack-clacked
to
the top of its highest hill. From there you could see the entire park. I was so
excited and nervous that I counted the seconds to the top to calm down.
Thirty-seven. We dropped suddenly, then turned sharply to the left before going
upside down a few times and stopping with a jerk back inside the loading
station. The entire ride--including the slow trip up--lasted one minute and
twenty-three seconds.

So far the
summer had been like that two hour wait. A few interesting things here and
there, but for the most part a seemingly never ending sameness. The only
difference was that with the roller coaster, I knew things would eventually get
more interesting. Given the metaphor, it probably shouldn’t have surprised me
when things started happening all at once, like twists and loops and fifty foot
drops that make you swallow your stomach.

After working
what seemed like forty hours straight, I finally found myself with an entire
day off and a grocery list three pages long.

I turned my
cart up the next aisle in search of shampoo and very nearly crashed into her.
Her. Brittney. The girl with whom Spencer had cheated on me. His fiancée.

“Oh,” she
said, startled by either the near wreck or seeing me, I wasn’t sure. “Um, hi.”

“Hi,” I
replied. “Brittney, right?” I knew, of course, but this seemed a safe reply.

“Yeah.”

Well this was
awkward. I decided to put us both out of our misery. “Nice to see you again.
Sorry for almost plowing you down.”

I maneuvered
my cart to move past her, and was halfway down the aisle when she said my name,
only barely loud enough for me to hear. I stopped, and waited for her to
approach before I turned around.

“Um.” She
paused again and looked down before taking a deep breath and meeting my eyes again.
“That day when we met. On the lake? Spencer introduced you as a friend from
college.” I nodded, both in agreement and as encouragement for her to go on.
“But I also heard that you guys were...more than friends.”

There was no
question in there, but I knew she was waiting for an answer. I also knew this
conversation had no hope of a positive ending. “That’s true,” I said. “We dated
for over four years.” Something passed over her face that wasn’t anger, wasn’t
surprise. It was more like confirmation.

“We’ve been
together for two,” she said quietly. “Did you know?”

“That Spencer
was cheating on me? Not until I met you. He broke up with me the day before he
proposed to you.”

She clutched
the basket in her hands so tightly that her knuckles turned white, and I
thought she was going to cry.

“I didn’t
know. I had no idea.”

“I know.” She
looked up at me, no doubt shocked that I wasn’t screaming at her. I sighed.
“Look, Spencer was a terrible boyfriend. I think I knew it all along, but he
has a way of making you need him. And I was devastated when he dumped me at my
birthday dinner--” her eyes widened at this-- “but it was clearly for the best.
And when you told me you two were engaged, it was clear you were as clueless as
I was.”

“But you
didn’t say anything.”

“No. And
maybe I should have. But you were obviously happy, and I didn’t think it fair
for my anger and hurt to ruin the happiness of someone I didn’t know. For all I
knew, you deserved each other, or maybe he was different with you. That and I
was in shock.”

She laughed a
little at this, but quickly sobered. “I don’t know what to do now.”

I sighed.
“Look, I can’t give you the answer to that. But here’s what I know: Spencer
didn’t just cheat on me; he cheated on you, as well, the entire time you were
dating. And the two year mark was when I really felt that I was giving way more
than I was getting in the relationship, but it took him ending it for me to get
out. And I see how bad things were now that I’m out. Do with that what you
want.”

She nodded
and began to turn away when I stopped her. “Brittney.” She looked up at me,
lost. “I probably don’t want to know the answer to this, but how did you meet?”

“He used to
come in the restaurant where I was a waitress.”

“Near
school.” She nodded, and then abruptly stopped when it hit her: he’d been
dating us both in plain sight.

“Well,” I
broke the silence. “I’d better…”

“Yeah. Um,
thanks. For telling me. About everything.”

I gave her a
small smile--we were bonded now, after all--and walked toward the exit, my
abandoned cart parked in the middle of the aisle, having completely forgotten
what I’d come in for in the first place.

Perhaps it
was silly of me to think that would be the end of it. Brittney would make her
choice, and whatever our lives looked like, we’d go on with them. But here it
was two days later, a Wednesday, and I had closed at work. This was not
unusual, but Caryn was usually with me. Tonight, though, she’d left early to
celebrate a friend’s birthday. Night had not completely taken over yet: streaks
of orange and pink still shone through the growing dark. I walked toward my
car, parked under a street light, just like my dad had taught me. I wasn’t
parked far from the store, but just far enough that I didn’t notice the figure
in the shadows until it was too late to detour.

Spencer
leaned against side of my car, blocking the door.

I sighed,
trying to sound annoyed rather than scared, but gripped my keys pointy side out
a little tighter, and moved my cell phone from my pocket to my hand. “What do
you want, Spencer?”

“Come on,
Babe. Is that any way to greet the man you spent the best years of your life
with?”

I cringed.
“It is when that man is actually a little boy who treats you like crap and then
leaves you for someone else. On your birthday.” I had never spoken to him that
way. I wasn’t sure where this courage came from, especially since I was
trembling inside.

He rolled his
eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic, Brooke. You make it sound much worse than it was.”
Something came untied inside me at that moment, and I realized that I’d never
had the opportunity to tell him how much he'd hurt me. Other than those few
words on the lake, we had not talked since the breakup, so I’d never been able
to tell him what a jerk he was. I’d seen him around town--it wasn’t large enough
that all contact was unavoidable--but I’d managed to duck down aisles or turn
down different streets whenever he was near. Since most of our mutual friends
were really his friends, I’d not heard much about him via the grapevine,
either. Not that I cared.

“Please get
off of my car,” I said, my voice a warning. “I need to leave.’

“What? You
have somewhere to be? You seeing someone else?”

“That is not
your business,” I said. “Now please, move.” Something in his posture made me
tense up even more, put me on high alert.

“Oh, come on,
Brooke. You know you miss me. Get in the car with me, we’ll drive and talk.
Catch up.” Why was this happening? I thought I had finally rid my life of the
last remnants of Spencer.

The parking
lot was empty and too far removed from the main road to expect help. I moved my
phone to my other hand so he would see I had a lifeline. “What? You’re going to
call someone for help from big bad Spencer?” His smile was sinister, one I
didn’t recognize. “Gonna call your new boyfriend?”

For one
second my fear turned to confusion. “Who are you talking about?” I asked.

“Oh, so
there’s more than one? I always knew you were a slut. Not that I ever got the
rewards of that.” He moved closer to me. I knew I had nowhere to go. I couldn’t
get around him into my car, and I couldn’t outrun him.

“You’re one
to talk.”

“Yeah, well,
that’s kind of the problem. Thanks to you, I have no one.” So Brittney had
ended things. And apparently told him about our meeting. That I did not
appreciate. “You ruined a good thing. Just couldn’t mind your business.”

I shook my
head. “No, Spencer, I’m pretty sure that was all you. Grow up and take some
responsibility for once.” Spencer took a step toward me, and my courage
faltered. I pulled up the keypad on my phone to call...someone.

“Again with
the phone trick. Who ya gonna call to protect you now, Brooke?” Spencer
laughed, sensing I had no one to turn to.

But at that
moment I glanced up at headlights swinging into the parking lot.

“Dave,” I
said, making my voice clear and strong. Dave, my sister’s long-suffering
boyfriend, was behind the wheel of the nearing car. And he hated Spencer. I
wasn’t exactly sure why, but any time we were all together the tension had been
palpable. There had to be some history there, but neither of them ever talked
about it.

Spencer
looked behind him to where my eyes had traveled. I watched him tense up and
start to back down even though Dave didn’t appear to see us. Dave pulled into a
parking spot at a restaurant further down the strip mall. If I called out to
him, he’d probably hear me; if I phoned him, he could be there in under a
minute. Spencer must have realized this, too, because he held his hands up in
surrender.

“You don’t
have to be so dramatic,” he said. “Leave if you want. It’s your loss, though.”
It wasn’t, but I didn’t say anything as I used the small opening he had left me
to jerk the car door open and slide inside. He reached for me, and I thought he
was going to grab me and do who knows what, but I slammed the door at the last
second, locking it as I did. “It’s okay, Brooke. I’ll get you to see reason.
Next time you’ll come with me.” His gaze, one of derisive laughter, followed me
as I threw the car into reverse and pulled out of the lot and into traffic.

I don’t think
I breathed until I hit the first red light nearly a mile down the road. Then,
instinctively, I checked the rearview mirror to make sure he wasn’t following
me. Safe. Even so, I hurried into my apartment, casting several glances behind
me on my way up the stairs. My fingers trembled as I put my keys in the lock
and attempted to open the door. I dead-bolted it behind me, drew the blinds and
grabbed my phone.

“Hey!” Aaron
answered. “I was just about to call you. How was your day?”

I responded
by bursting into tears.

“Brooke? Brooke!
What’s wrong?” I continued to cry, not really even knowing why. I had been
scared, yeah, but the incident wasn’t really all that horrific. I mean, it’s
not like he’d hit me or anything. “Brooke, you have to tell me what’s wrong.
Are you hurt?” I could hear panic rising in Aaron’s voice. I shook my head,
forgetting for a moment that he couldn’t see me.

I took a
breath, trying to find my voice. “Sorry,” I said, still crying some. “I didn’t
mean--”

“Hey,” he
interrupted. “No apologies for tears, okay? Ever.”

“Okay. I just
didn’t expect...to do that.” I didn’t say anything for a moment, and Aaron
didn’t rush me. I’d called him, after all; he knew I’d talk when I felt ready.
Finally I took a deep breath and began. “Spencer was waiting by my car after work,”
I said flatly.

Another
silence. Then, “Did he hurt you? Because if he did, Brooke, I swear I will get
in my truck right now and come make sure he never does that again.”

My attention
jerked to what he’d just said. “You would do that?” I asked. It was at least an
eight hour drive, and though we often exaggerated, something in his voice told
me he was serious.

“Of course, I
would. You’re my best friend.” A pause. “But you didn’t answer my question,” he
said softly. “Did he hurt you?”

“No,” I
answered. “Scared me, though.”

“I bet. What
did he want? Wait, let me guess. The ‘other woman.’”

“Yeah,
apparently she ended things, and it’s my fault. He said he wanted to catch up,
but...” I shuddered. “But then Dave drove into the parking lot,” I continued,
“and he backed off.”

“Dave your
sister’s boyfriend?”

“Yeah. I’m
not sure he even saw us, but it was enough to make Spencer let me go.”

“I’m
seriously considering driving down there. He has no right to keep showing up n
and...” He trailed off, like he couldn’t think of the words he wanted. After a
few seconds pause he finished: “hurting you.”