Devil’s in the Details (18 page)

When the backpack was around my shoulders, I opened Alex's message.

-Victoria. I haven't heard from you. I hope your flight got in safe and you are boozing it up with some cute flight attendants in the hotel bar. But seriously, message me back. I really am looking forward to those bagels. :) -

I half smiled at the text. I couldn't message Alex back right now as I stood in a morbid display of dangling intestines in a pool of blood. A display I had created without a second thought.

I desperately wanted to keep Alex separate from this second life of mine in every way I could. I hated that it would only make her worry like she always did when I took trips and couldn't call her right away or tell her I had landed safely. I would always hear it in her voice when I did call her back. Feeling in the tone of her voice, how worried she was about how much I flew combined with the latest news reports of downed flights across the world.

Locking the phone, I shoved it in the front pocket of my black jacket and walked out the side entrance I had taken to access the drug lord's patio where he had sat smoking a cigar less than an hour ago.

I said nothing to the cleaning crew when they picked me up and dropped me off at the airport. I said nothing to the flight crew, not even a thank you when I was handed a fresh set of clothes and clean towels to use in the bathroom on the private plane. I had slipped into complete silence to process what I had I just done, and none of these people dared to speak to me. They knew I was a plumber and one of the most dangerous ones in Voltaire. They were just as afraid of me as I was of myself at times, giving me a stronger idea of how normal would never be in the cards for me.

I remained silent the entire flight home, alternating from staring out the window to the glass of bourbon clutched in my bandaged hands.

~Twelve hours later ~

It felt like Deja vu. Standing in the middle of my living room, fire roaring, as I tossed my work clothes one piece at a time into the flames. Numbly watching the fire destroy the blood soaked gloves and jacket I had worn while I sipped on a heavy glass of bourbon.

This was my life.

It was like a morbid wash cycle that only drove home the way I felt so lonely in the moments after a job. Blindly following through on my routine of destroying the equipment over a celebratory glass of expensive liquor.

Standing alone in the bright morning hours of a Sunday that would leave me sitting alone in my den and eating my neighbor's leftovers or whatever other food creation I found the energy to make. Listening to Dale and Mary chatter as they worked in the yard or sat in their patio chairs reading the weekend edition.

I shuffled away from the fireplace after throwing the last piece of clothing in the fire. My bare feet embracing the coolness of the wooden floor, I walked to my desk in the den. Sliding into the cold desk chair, I set the bourbon down and reached for my cell phone, re-reading Alex's first text message and then the second she had sent while I was in the shower.

-I'm heading to the hospital and might not be able to check my phone. But please, call me or the nurse's station when you get up. Tell me all about the wild night you obviously had last night. A.-

I sighed, swallowing down the tears that were coming from nowhere. I tapped the call back button and pressed the phone to my ear. Closing my eyes as the rings counted down until I heard her voice.

"And she arises from the dead! Connecticut that much of a party town you can't call your friend back to check in?" I could hear the relief in Alex's voice.

I smiled, running fingers around the edge of the glass in front of me, "Sorry about that Alex, I had a late day at the career fair, and then managed to sneak on the red eye home." I paused. I was tired and the sound of Alex's voice was having a profound effect on me.

"You're home?" The excitement in her voice was palpable.

I nodded to my empty den, "Arrived about an hour ago." I drifted off, biting my bottom lip to hold back the tears when I looked at the bloody and bruised hands. A gentle reminder of why I couldn't say what I really wanted to in this call to Alex.

"Are you okay, Victoria? You sound weird."

I sighed, trying to laugh and throw Alex off. "I'm just really tired." I cleared my throat, "Tell me how your popcorn and pajama Saturday went."

Alex chuckled and proceeded to ramble on about how she managed to get sucked into a television show recommended by Netflix that was solely directed at teenagers, but found herself watching all thirteen episodes in one day. Alex giggled, telling me how she fulfilled a bucket list item by going to the grocery store in her pajamas to get more popcorn, only to run into the chief resident at the hospital.

I sat and listened to her. Fighting the urge to interrupt her and tell her the only reason I called her was so I could hear her voice.

~Three months later ~

"You guys are like the cutest, oldest married couple ever, Alex. I hope when I’m married for twenty-five years, I will be as adorable as you and Victoria." Stacy smiled at me as she sipped the fresh cup of coffee Victoria had delivered, since she was still in Seattle at a conference.

I threw a pen at the woman, "We aren't married, Stacy. We’re just friends that happen to be very nice to each other." I slid up to sit on the desk at the nurse's station, taking a deep breath of the coffee in my hands. I looked down at the big box of bagels, trying to find the blueberry nut one Victoria always made sure I got. "What gives you the old married couple idea about us?"

Stacy rolled her eyes, grabbing an apple cinnamon bagel. "I don't know. Maybe it's that she brings us coffee every Thursday like clockwork. Then on Fridays and now Saturdays, you two get swallowed up in the Alex and Victoria bubble and no one can break into it. Then there's the tiny fact that you both check in with each other daily like my mom and dad do. Another cute old married couple." She took a large bite of the bagel, "I don't understand why you aren't dating already." Stacy moaned at the taste of the still warm treat in her hand.

I gripped my Styrofoam cup tightly. Stacy was right about all those things, but I played it off as being a perk of a close friendship. Our friendship had grown over the months and besides Stacy, my mom and Bill, Victoria was all I really had and I was okay with it. I shrugged, "That's just what best friends do." Trying to brush the topic to the side, I went to ask Stacy about who could pick up my Sunday shift so I could have dinner with mom and Bill.

Stacy stood up from her chair, "Yeah, but do best friends look at each other like I sometimes catch the both of you doing?" She patted my arm, "Like I said, why aren't you dating the mysterious Naval officer? Why aren't you two running off into the sunset indulging in your silly old couple ways that makes us all envious?"

I sighed, setting the coffee down. It was a question that randomly popped up in my head when I caught Victoria looking at me in a way that made my entire body blush, or when I couldn't fall asleep until she called me back, or texted me to tell me she had landed safely and was back home. Then I would always remember Victoria was the one who put me in the friend zone and showed no signs of ever pulling me from it.

I shrugged again, sliding off the desk to pick up some charts, "We’re just friends, Stacy, and that's all it is. All it will ever be."

Stacy nodded at me, "That's good enough for me, but is it good enough for you?" She brushed past me, grabbing another bagel, "Has she invited you over to her house yet?"

Stacy struck a nerve with that last question. It had been a hot topic for me whenever I would ramble on about what Victoria and I did on my days off. It was a simple question that opened up a can of worms. No, I had not been to Victoria's house, still didn't have one idea where she lived. I only just recently found out what kind of car she drove when I had to show her where to park in front of my apartment building. Then there were the thousand other little things I didn't know about the mysterious blonde. Granted they were little things, but they were somewhat important in the whole scheme of building a friendship.

I shook my head, my mood darkening from the innocent questions. "No." I tucked the charts under my arm, "I'm going to hit up rounds and then double check that Deb is for sure up to switch shifts with me." I tapped the box of bagels, "Try to leave the blueberry one for me."

Stacy waved me away, "Like I would ever dare to touch the one bagel your mysterious best non-girlfriend friend always gets just for you. The bagel is safe, Alex. I'll see you in an hour for that intubation in room six."

I said nothing, just walked away from the nurse's station and down to the far end of the hall where there was a small supply closet. I pushed the door open and dropped the charts on a pile of towels. Letting out a breath, I scanned the room trying to remember what I needed, when all my mind wanted to do was pick apart the red flags of Victoria. She was mysterious, yes, and I had gotten past my hero worship after she rejected me. That simple rejection knocked me down a notch and took all of the wind out of my sails. I had been silly to try and make a move that day when I didn't even know the woman.

Then again, I still didn't really know Victoria. She rarely ever dove into talking about her out of town trips or anything else about her job. Only telling me that the trips were for boring recruitment fairs, history conferences and something else related to her teaching job. She would then usually move the conversation to me and how the hospital was.

Yes, I could get the blonde to talk about the things she liked. What her favorite books were, what old movies were her weaknesses and I could get her to ramble on about any of her favorites if given the opportunity. I knew her favorite foods, the beer she liked the most and that she would do just about anything if I gave her a bottle of expensive bourbon. Other than that, I didn't know when her birthday was, where she lived, or who her family was. All the things that friends who had known each other for almost six months would have hashed out by now.

I did notice that when certain topics were brought up, like why she looked so tired after a one-day trip to West Virginia, or when I mentioned her days in the war, her eyes would get cloudy and give off a dangerous, almost scary look.

Almost scaring the hell out of me if I looked at her too long. It was as if underneath the warm, kind, comforting, funny side I saw, there was a very dangerous person. Victoria would just smile tightly in a way that reminded me of those shit heads in the metro station and move the conversation to a different topic. Those strange moments would have scared me off if I didn't feel so safe with the blonde. Opting to use the experience of her time in the war as the reason why she had that dangerous aura about her sometimes.

Then there were the strange phone calls from her female co-worker, or ex-girlfriend, I hadn't figured out which yet, that would always take Victoria away from me for a minute or two. My friend seemed to disappear as she spoke in quick, angry tones or sent angry texts back. I had put together that whenever those calls came, Victoria would have to go out of town for a few days. Leaving me and my dime store detective skills leaning towards a shitty secretary who probably enjoyed flirting with the attractive blonde every chance she could.

I placed my hand on my hips, analyzing this friendship in a supply closet. Victoria did know almost everything about me. I had told her a thousand different stories over our pizza parties and movie nights at my apartment. I shared my dreams, my hopes, my embarrassments, the shitty days and the good days at work. There was very little Victoria had left to learn about me. It even got to the point that Victoria and I could communicate silently. She would know instantly what was wrong with me by the way I said hello or the way I sighed. Even my mom and Bill knew about Victoria, and they were eager to meet the woman who had rescued me and brought a smile back to my face.

All I truly knew was that I loved being around her. Deep down, I had a fantastical idea she was also miserable all week until she saw me on Thursday mornings. I loved the way she smiled. I loved how tightly Victoria would hug me when we first saw each other after one of her trips. How she would call me at late hours and just ask me to talk to her about random things. I loved the way she would put a protective hand on my back whenever we were in the city, walk me to my car and stand by until I drove safely away. I loved how the woman looked in her fitted pantsuits, like the professional she was and then shift to the relaxed and still gorgeous woman in her baggy, dirty jeans and the worn out USN shirt of the day. I loved that we were like an old married couple and it was the easiest relationship, or friendship, I had ever had in my life.