Covered, Part Three (2 page)

It turned out Auntie G’s new life idea involved a lot of yoga in humid rooms with sweaty old hippies. Bikram Yoga, she called it. I called it torture, and if I never smell sweat and patchouli again, it will be too soon.

Basically we all met up in her friend’s studio, a windowless room with the heaters cranked. The idea was to stretch and move in a super heated space in order to release your toxins.

Seriously, I think I breathed in more stale weed that first week than I ever had in all my years at college. Some of them seemed to ooze pot from their pores. I swear one of Auntie G’s best buddies was so full of ganja, he was like one of those frogs that people lick to get high. One swipe of old hippy sweat and I would have been chilling out with the best of them.

Auntie G had a strict no drug policy though, she wanted this transformation to be natural, not propped up with artificial means.

But she’d take me for ice cream after each session, so I guess it wasn’t all bad. Rocky Road instead of a bong and all that.

A few days into my new life, I got home from work and saw a strange car parked in front of the house. It wasn’t unusual, we only had curb parking, and people parked in front all the time.

Either way, I braced myself when I opened the door, waiting for bad news or something. I don’t know why, the car just gave me bad vibes.

Happily it wasn’t my student loan officer or a bill collector, it was Trenton, dropping off our newly cleaned and resized jewelry.

My stomach still turned to lead when I saw him there, I couldn’t shake the feeling that Auntie G was trying to hook me up with him.

“Hey,” he said when I walked into the kitchen, “how’s it going?”

“Not bad,” I replied and sat down at the table.

“Try these on,” Auntie G said and handed me my mother’s rings. They fit perfectly and looked beautiful. I felt a little choked up at the realization that Gavin would never need these from me. He would never use them to propose.

“Lovely,” Trenton said, “your mother had excellent taste.”

“I suppose that would have been my father though, right?”

“I guess so,” he replied, “but if your mother was half as beautiful as you, then I can see he had impeccable taste.”

“Thanks,” I muttered and slipped the rings off.

I made some excuse about needing to go upstairs to write or read or something, and I took off like I’d been stung.

Auntie G covered for my rude behavior with some excuse or another, but I didn’t really care.

The weird thing is that Trenton was somebody I would have been interested in before Gavin. He was cute, blonde, beautiful eyes and a nice body. And he seemed to like me. I mean, from the what, two times I’d met him. I just got that vibe, that little snap between us that he was putting down.

I just wasn’t picking it up.

After he left, Auntie G came to my room to talk.

“You know I’ve been worried about you, right?” she said.

“Yeah,” I replied, waiting for it.

“And you know Trenton is a very nice boy from a good family.”

“I did not know that, but it’s fascinating.”

“I just think you should get back in the saddle now that you’ve been bucked off. I don’t think it’s healthy to shut yourself off to love just because of one failed relationship.”

“I’m not a cowgirl.”

“You know what I mean.”

“And it wasn’t failed, it was a fucking disaster,” I said, sat up and turned to her, “it was a disaster of epic proportions. On a global fucking scale.”

“I know that, dear,” she said, “but things happen. Life happens. And I don’t want you to end up like me.”

“I like your life, what’s wrong with ending up like you?”

“I’m lonely, Sarai. It’s lonely getting to my age and having nobody.”

“You’ve got me.”

“You know exactly what I mean,” she scolded gently, “I have nobody to cuddle with at night, nobody to watch crappy TV with, nobody to use those two-for-one coupons with. I always end up over eating just so I can save money. It doesn’t make sense.”

“Why did you never settle down?”

“I did,” she said quietly, “I had a live in boyfriend when your parents died. You probably don’t remember him, Michael.”

“What happened to him?” I asked, startled by the revelation that she’d been in a serious relationship. I hated to admit it, but I’d always thought of her as partially androgynous.

“He couldn’t handle me taking you on full time,” she replied quietly.

“He left because of me? Oh god, I’m sorry,” I said.

“Not exactly, but maybe a little bit. But it’s okay, I’m happy with my decision and I’ve never regretted it since,” she said, “What I want you to realize is that being alone isn’t the best, and life moves at lightning speed. Before you know it, you’ll be my age and wondering where it all went.”

I thought about it for a moment. I’d never looked at Auntie G’s life, and I’d never wondered how she felt about things. Her guardianship of me had been thrust upon her without asking. I’d been so wrapped up in my misery and grief after my parents had died, that I’d never stopped to ask how she felt.

I pondered her words and finally said, “Fine, I’ll go on a date with Trenton.”

She laughed and said, “Sounds good to me. Shall I call him and arrange it? Or do you want to text him? It just so happens that I’ve got his number right here.”

She handed me a folded up piece of notepad with his number scrawled across it. I felt sick to my stomach at the thought of contacting him, and almost faint at the thought of going on a date with him.

But all those models Gavin had been with and Auntie G’s advice, they both spun in my head and came out the other side with one clear answer.

It was time for me to cowgirl up and get back in the saddle.

No matter how awful it might feel.

“So you don’t like biking and you don’t like basketball. How about hiking?” Trent, he’d told me to call him Trent, asked me over dinner. A dinner date. A date that felt wrong and unsettling, it left a bad taste in my mouth, like ashes.

I was doing it for her, Auntie G, and then I’d scuttle home and hide under my covers until work the next morning.

“Sorry, no sports, I’m not your girl,” I said and stared out the window. He’d brought me to an IHOP, and I wasn’t the kind of girl to judge a man for not having money, but it did make Gavin’s absence all the more apparent.

“I’m not all about sports, but I do like to stay active,” he replied, “they taught us that in rehab. Finding other ways to express yourself.”

“Oh cool,” I said, “good for you.”

“I don’t mean to rain on our parade, it’s just that I find it’s better to be open about being a former addict. I mean, an addict. Once an addict, always an addict, right?”

“I guess so,” I replied, “I don’t know much about it, to be honest.”

“I’m sorry, I know it makes me sound so skeezy, I’ll just stop talking about it now. So tell me, what do you do?”

“I work at a bookstore,” I replied, “and that’s about it.”

The waitress interrupted us at that point and I ordered an appetizer and a tea. Trent ordered a full meal, then looked me up and down, cancelled his order and got himself a dessert.

When she left, he said, “I get it, you didn’t want to be set up on this. I wish you had mentioned that when I texted you, I certainly don’t want to take up too much of your time.”

I sighed and shot him a little smile. “I just broke up with somebody, it was really messy and awful and it’s going to take a while to get over. Auntie G kinda forced me into this because she’s tired of me moping apparently.”

“That’s okay,” he replied, “my life is a mess too. You know, rehab and all. My uncle forced me so I’d be more normal. Looks like that’s going over like a lead balloon, hey?”

I laughed and couldn’t help myself. I started telling him all about Gavin. The food came, we ate, and sat for an hour beyond that, talking and getting to know each other.

It turned out to be a pretty nice evening. It had distracted me long enough to stop obsessing over Gavin, and Trent turned out to be really funny.

We shook hands at the end of the night and agreed to be friends. I needed a friend now more than ever, and I headed home feeling a little more optimistic than I had since leaving Paris.

Auntie G grilled me when I got home and seemed disappointed at my lack of interest. She’d survive though, at least I had gotten out of the house.

I went to bed and curled up under the covers. A quick scan of TMZ told me Gavin was back in Seattle. My heart skipped a beat and my palms went sweaty.

I couldn’t help myself.

I texted him. Lawyers and threats of being sued be dammed, I needed to let him know I was thinking of him.

I miss you.

That’s all I wrote. There was nothing more to say.

I hoped he missed me too.

***

A couple weeks went by and I heard nothing back from Gavin. I wasn’t surprised but I was disappointed.

I had hung out with Trent quite a few more times, and was getting ready to see some art show downtown, a friend of his was a painter or something. He was quickly becoming one of my closest friends, I felt safer with him than I ever had with Jenny.

I applied another layer of mascara, looked at myself in the mirror and decided enough was enough. A day of reading about Gavin and his amazing life left me with an edge of misery under the makeup, but I had managed to cover my haggard, tear stained eyes pretty well. I almost looked normal.

I heard him beep, he’d borrowed his uncle’s car for this, and ran downstairs.

“I’ll be back later,” I yelled at Auntie G on the way out.

“Have fun,” she yelled back, “and try to see him as more than just a friend.”

“Never gonna happen,” I laughed and shut the door behind me. I swore I heard her yell something after me, but didn’t need to know her opinion on the whole thing. I knew she wanted me to move on, and considered her friend’s nephew the perfect choice.

“You look great,” Trent said when I got in the car, “I like what you did with your eyes.”

“You mean the mascara hiding my tears look?” I asked, “Yes it’s all the rage this year on the runways of Milan.”

“You’re a very beautiful girl, Sarai,” he said and looked straight ahead as he drove, “don’t forget that. I know you’re a little self-deprecating, but it’s not healthy for you, mentally. Talk about yourself with a little more compassion.”

“Is that from you as a friend, or from your counsellor?”

“Both,” he said and smiled, “but yes, my counsellor said you sound depressed. And the only way to fix that is to start reinforcing yourself with positive thoughts.”

“Okay, I’ll try,” I said, “and I won’t be a Debbie Downer tonight, I swear.”

“Good,” he replied, “let’s just leave the past behind and have fun tonight. I think you’ll like the show.”

We drove and managed to find parking within a few blocks of the gallery. He held his arm out for me and we strolled to the show.

It was packed and I was immediately regretting the decision to join him. There were people from all backgrounds, from the obvious friends of the artist broke folks like me and Trent, to the upper echelons of high society. It made me nervous to think that I might cross paths with somebody from Gavin’s world.

Or even worse, Gavin himself.

I gulped down a glass of champagne and grabbed another from a passing waiter after that one was gone. Trent had found some people I didn’t know, so I drifted off and left him to catch up without me lurking in the background.

I was standing in front of a large abstract piece, contemplating throwing in the towel and becoming a painter, when I heard hushed mumbling behind me.

“It is her, you should say hello,” somebody said so I turned around.

Ethan and Jane, Gavin’s friends, were standing there arguing over who had to say hi to me. My stomach sunk even lower, they must think I’m a monster. They must not realize what had happened. They could potentially tell Gavin what happened if I could convince them.

I fought my urge to crawl into the nearest hole and hide and held up my hand. “Hey guys,” I said in an overly bright, fake voice.

They looked nervous, as if they’d just been caught…well…arguing over who had to say hello to me. “Hey Sarai,” Jane said. Looks like she lost the bet.

“How are you? What have you been up to?” I asked and walked to where they were trapped by a huge group of fellow art lovers. For once social convention worked in my favour and they couldn’t be rude or run away.

“We’re good,” Ethan said and took a nervous sip of his champagne. I knew how he felt. “How about you? How are you keeping?”

“I’m okay I guess, considering,” I replied. I could feel tears starting to sting the back of my eyes and forced myself to hold them back.

“Yeah,” Jane said, looked at Ethan, and added, “Still blogging?”

It wasn’t exactly what she said, or the way she said it, I think it was the combination of the two, plus the sense of isolation I’d been feeling since returning from Paris.

I did something I hated doing. Something I’d rather be doing hiding out at home under the covers.

I broke down bawling my face off. Like an oversized toddler, I choked on my tears and sniffled my misery.

Jane and Ethan were frozen in horror, as I’m sure I would have been if this had happened to somebody else.

Finally Jane said, “My god, Sarai, are you going to be okay?”

I wailed, “No,” and rubbed my eyes.

“Can we get you a cab?” Ethan asked.

“I’m here with a friend,” I said.

“Where is she? Is it Jenny?” Jane asked. I forgot that they had met Jenny at my birthday dinner. It felt like a lifetime ago.

“It’s a he,” I said and saw them exchange a knowing glance. “It’s not like that,” I quickly added, “he really is just a friend.”

Jane smiled and nodded, “Sure, sure.”

I took a deep breath and looked them in the eyes, “It really isn’t. I know how it looks, I must look like a monster to you two, but it wasn’t me.”

Jane looked sharply at Ethan and said, “I told you it couldn’t have been her.”

Ethan looked more sceptical, “So who did it?”

“Jenny,” I said and Jane echoed me.

“I knew it,” she said, “I could feel her jealousy coming off her in waves at your birthday.”

Ethan still looked a little sceptical but Jane elbowed him in the ribs, “Ouch, what was that for?” he asked.

“For not believing me,” Jane said and smiled. She turned back to me and asked, “Now how are we going to get you back with Gavin?”

I blushed, knowing she had guessed my intent from the first moment. “I don’t think that’s possible, but I can’t stand the idea of him thinking it was me. All I want at this point is to clear the air, then he can traipse around and bang as many hot models as he wants.”

They looked at each other again, then looked back at me and laughed.

“Are you joking?” Jane asked, “He’s been miserable since you left Paris. He’s barely left his house beyond work and photo ops.”

“She’s been reading the blogs,” Ethan told her, “and we all know how trustworthy they are.”

“Yes, I get that,” Jane replied, then turned to me, “you have to understand how powerful Gavin’s family is, how influential they are. They were the ones who discovered the source of the…you know, information. They were the ones who sent his sister over to block you from returning, and they were the ones who have barred any contact. They’ve also circled their wagons, so to speak, and have had him in public acting as if nothing is wrong. It’s all an act though, you have to remember that.”

I couldn’t help it, I felt a little thrill of happiness that Gavin might be as miserable as me. Even if he were half as miserable, I’d probably be okay with it.

“So what can I do?” I asked, “How do I respond to his family’s accusations?”

“Well there’s nothing you can do right now, Gavin is in Belize on some sportswear shoot. His mother has been dousing media fires all over the planet, they have a powerful PR team. Things have settled down, but not completely though, so she’ll still be waiting for you,” Jane advised, “I don’t want her to have a reason to go after you, legally. Why don’t we stay in touch, and when Gavin gets back in three weeks Ethan and I will talk some sense into him?”

“You would do that for me?” I asked.

“God yes,” Ethan said, “you’re the only girl we’ve liked! You’re real, and an actual human being, we’re thrilled that Gavin found you and we think you’re meant to be together.”

“We just have to catch Gavin up on the plan,” Jane laughed and we toasted to our plotting.

I really hoped they’d be able to talk to him, but my heart already felt lighter than it had in weeks. With them on my side, I’d have a fighting chance.