Pure Passion (2 page)

“It’s James’ car,” she replied, so quietly that it was
barely audible.

“James?  James who?” I asked, as my mind began reeling.

“James,” was her only reply, as she buckled over onto the
bed and began sobbing.

“James… My dad?” I asked, feeling like I’d just been sucker
punched. 
It can’t be him, but she isn’t denying it.  Motherfucker!

“You slept with my old man?  What the fuck, Celeste?”   I
could feel the bile rising in my throat
.  I need to get out of here before I
do something I’ll regret!

She tried to explain herself as I whipped out a duffle bag
and began packing a few things that I knew I’d need.  My thoughts were a blur
as she tried to explain that she had gone to him a few months ago to offer an
olive branch.  It was her attempt to bridge the gap between us.  They had
gotten together a few times to discuss things while I was out of town, which
explained why she had started pressuring me.  Then a week ago, their
relationship had taken an unexpected turn, according to her words.

“I never meant for this to happen!  You have to believe me,
Max!” she pleaded, as I grabbed my toothbrush and a few things from the
bathroom.  “Please talk to me, Max!  Just say something!”

Honestly, I didn’t even want to look at her.  When I finally
did, my expression was stone cold. “You know how much I love you.  You know how
much I despise him.  You couldn’t have possibly done anything more fucking
disgusting if you tried!  Nine years.  Nine years, and you screw me like this? 
It would’ve been less cruel if you had shot me in the back with a shotgun.  At
least that would’ve been quick and painless. You’re absolutely despicable,
Celeste, and I never want to see your pathetic face again.”

After the words left my mouth, I turned without even waiting
for a response.

An eerie calmness washed over me as I threw the duffle over
my shoulder and headed out the door. 
What the hell just happened?  This
better be a goddamn nightmare!  I better wake up soon and realize it’s not for
real… This can’t be fucking real…

~~~

Max

I collapsed onto the futon back at my workshop and simply
stared at the ceiling.  My head was buzzing, and my mind was in a complete
state of shock. 
How could anyone be so cold?  How could she possibly be
interested in my old man?  How many times have they done it?  Were they really
together in my bed?  I think I’m going to be sick…

Some events in life are so traumatic that there’s simply no
going back.  This was one of them.  I was not going to have anything to do with
dad or Celeste ever again, even if they came crawling on their knees through
broken glass.  I could hear my phone buzzing repeatedly in my jacket pocket,
but I wasn’t about to answer.  I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone. 
Somehow, I managed to fall asleep for a few hours but awoke to the same exact
pit in my stomach. 
I have no money, no home, no parents, and now no
girlfriend.  I guess this is what they call rock bottom.  At least from here
there’s nowhere to go but up. Right?

With all that had happened in the past eighteen hours, it
would’ve made sense to cry.  Deep down, however, I was too pissed to cry.  I
picked up my phone and looked at the call log.  Eleven missed calls from
Celeste and two from Dad.  Grabbing my iPad, I logged into my Verizon account
and promptly blocked both of their numbers and deleted them from my contacts. 
I didn’t want to see either of them appearing on my screen again. 
Everything
happens for a reason
.
Neither of them has supported what I’m trying to
do, so maybe this is what I've needed. Obviously, if I never talk to either of
them again, they can only blame themselves. 
As I thought about never talking
to Celeste again, the tears finally came. 
Dammit, how could she do this to
me!

Celeste

God, I was a mess.  I didn’t sleep a wink all that night. 
All I wanted to do is explain what happened, but he wouldn't pick up.
What
the hell? Now he’s blocked me?  I can’t even send him a text. I hope he comes
back so we can talk about this.  At this point, he has nowhere else to go.

When I talked to James, he was his usual cold self.  “This
isn’t your fault, Celeste. He’s the one who screwed everything up,” he said,
trying to convince both of us.

“We hurt him so badly, James.  You should’ve seen his face.”

I have never seen him so cold and distant.  I don’t know,
maybe he won’t be back.

“If he would’ve stayed on track, none of this ever would’ve
happened.  He wouldn’t be having money problems, and you would’ve never had to
come to me.  He has no one to blame but himself,” James repeated, sounding like
a broken record.

“We have to go talk to him, James.  We can’t leave it like
this.”

I couldn’t believe he was blaming Max.

“I tried calling twice, but he didn’t pick up.  I have a
full schedule, Celeste. Besides, there’s nothing left to talk about,” James
replied coldly.

Really, James? You have nothing to say to him? 
I
always knew James wasn’t much of a father, but I didn’t realize he was
completely heartless.  
Oh my God, what have I done?  I’m not even sure how
this all happened.  At some point Max and I have to talk this out, but right
now, I just can’t face him alone.  Surely, he will forgive us… or me at least.
He always said I was his soul mate. I think we can survive this.

~~~

Two Days Later

Max

After finishing two guitars in less than 48 hours, I decided
it was time to leave my workshop.  If for no other reason, I really needed a
shower and a decent meal.  I decided to go to the gym to get cleaned up.  Then
I was going to have to figure out where to live.  Even though I had a bathroom,
small fridge and microwave, I certainly couldn’t live at the workshop.  As I
stood in the locker room shaving, I couldn’t help but think back to the days I
spent with my granddad.  I sure wish he and Grandma were still around.

While Granddad taught me to build guitars, grandma taught me
other skills, like how to bake chocolate chip cookies and sew on a button.  I
would sit and listen to her tell stories while patiently waiting for the
cookies to cool.  Grandma passed away from cancer when I was quite young, a
genetic flaw that obviously passed down to my mother
. 
I had to credit Mom
and her parents for the fact that I was not nearly as big of a prick as my father
was.  I looked at my reflection in the mirror and decided I was no longer going
to be James Maxwell Hancock.  Nothing good had come from my father’s bloodline,
so it seemed obvious to adopt my granddad’s name, Maxwell J. Keegan.  I
honestly didn’t know what the “J” stood for but later learned it stood for
James. 
How ironic.

I left the gym and headed over to The Deuce, hoping Derek
was working.  I needed to tell someone about all the crazy shit that had gone
down, even though I was still having a hard time believing it myself.  After
two days of solitude, I just needed to be around people. 
I would really
suck at being a monk
.

“Hey, Max,” I heard as I walked up to the bar.  It took a
moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, but I thought it sounded like
Lara’s voice.  Sure enough, she came into focus, dressed in baggy jeans and a
T-shirt with her long hair tucked behind a tan baseball cap.

“Lara, you work here?” I asked, caught slightly off guard.

“Yeah, Derek got me a temporary job.  I finished school at
the end of fall semester but haven’t found a teaching job yet.  With a music
degree, there aren’t a lot of great alternatives,” she replied, sounding a
little embarrassed.

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll find something by next fall,” I assured
her. 
A music degree? That’s interesting.

“I hope so.  What brings you in here so early on a Monday
afternoon?”

Looking at my watch, I realized 1:55 p.m. on a Monday was a
rather odd time to be pulling up a barstool.  “I just wanted to grab a bite and
talk to Derek if he was around.” 
And spill my guts about how much my life
sucks and what a bitch Celeste is.

“He’s off Sunday and Monday, so I guess you’re stuck with
me,” she replied with a sexy smile. 

She really needs to ditch those horrible glasses
. 
She handed me a menu before going to wait on another customer.  Looking through
my options, I debated whether I should tell her about the recent developments
in my life. 
Maybe after a few drinks.

“Alright, what can I get you,” she asked upon her return.

“I’ll have the fish and chips.”

“Anything to drink with that?”

“Do you think it’s too early for a double Crown on the
rocks?” 
She’s gonna think I’m a lush.

She giggled, looking up at the clock. “Well, most guys
drinking whiskey at this time on a Monday can’t afford Crown, but I’ll consider
you an exception.”

Her giggle made me smile for the first time in days.

“Thanks, I appreciate it, Lara.” 

Little did she know the bill would be going on my credit card,
which was already stretched pretty thin.

“Here’s your double Crown. Now, tell me what’s going on,”
she said, throwing her elbows up on the bar and resting her chin on her hand. 
She actually seemed interested in hearing my problems, something really new to
me.

“Trust me.  You don’t even want to know.”

“Of course I do,” she insisted.

“Ok, well I’m not sure I want to tell you.”
This is
almost too embarrassing to admit, especially to a woman.

“Whatever it is, it can’t be as bad as some of the crap I’ve
heard since taking this job.”

“Actually, I think this might top most of ‘em,” I replied
and began telling her how my Saturday night had gone after leaving the bar. 
Her beautiful brown eyes were wide as could be, as I explained how I had found
a Mercedes convertible parked in my spot.  She began to cringe as I detailed
the encounter with Celeste, and she actually gasped when I got to the grand
finale.

“Your dad?  Gross!  Oh my god!  That’s disgusting!” she
blurted out, seemingly repressing the same gag reflex I had experienced at the
time. 

It was nice to have someone else validate my feelings. At
least I knew that my harsh reaction hadn’t been the least bit irrational.

“Didn’t you recognize your own dad’s car?” she asked in
disbelief.

“No, I haven’t seen my dad in over a year.  I had no idea he
was driving a Mercedes.  He’s driven BMWs for as long as I can remember.”

“Wow! Nothing like walking into an ass fucking like that! 
No wonder you’re drinking whiskey at 2:00 p.m. on a Monday!” She scrunched up
her face and shook her head as if she had a horrible taste in her mouth.

I had to laugh when the words “ass fucking” came out of her
mouth
.  I’m going to have to adjust to the fact that she’s a 22-year-old
bartender and not the little eighth grader who used to play with Brea.  I can
tell she’s pretty cute underneath it all.

 “My god, so what did you do?” she exclaimed, looking for
the rest of the gory details.

“I was totally stunned!  I threw some of my shit in a duffle
bag and told her I never wanted to see her pathetic face again.”  
Actually,
I think that understates my true feelings.

“You’re sure she slept with him?”

“Unfortunately, I’m positive,” I responded, shaking my head
in disgust.

“I’ve seen your dad.  No offense, but that’s just gross!”
she reiterated, as she sat there pondering the circumstances.  After several
seconds she added, “I’m sorry but if she chose your dad over you, she’s totally
lost her mind.”

“Thanks, Lara. That’s what I can’t figure out.  He had to
have been offering her money or security or some bullshit.  It just doesn’t
make any sense otherwise.”

“Well, he couldn’t pay me enough to sleep with his sorry
ass,” she said, still shaking her head and trying to wrap her mind around it. 
"So have you gotten your stuff back?”

“No, I just left everything except a few basic necessities. 
I don’t have anywhere to move it to anyway.” 
Damn, at some point I am going
to have to get my shit.  I’ll do it while Celeste is at work.  Or maybe I can
send Derek.

“Where are you staying?” she asked with motherly concern in
her voice.

“Over at my workshop for now.  I just crashed on the futon
the last two nights.”  
And now my back is a twisted mess, along with my
mind!

“Well, Max Hancock, you’ve been one surprise after another. 
I’m sorry Celeste did that to you,” Lara stated with a look on her face that read
concern and sympathy, but not pity.  It was a look that I hadn’t seen since my
mom passed away.  I suddenly felt a little choked up.

“Thanks, Lara. Can I have another Crown?”  
Maybe one more
will help me forget…

“Definitely, and this one’s on the house!”

“By the way, Lara, call me Max Keegan from now on alright? 
Keegan was my mom’s maiden name.”

“You got it.  I like that name!”

Lara

Wow, I never dreamt I would see Max in such a vulnerable
state.  Sometimes one person’s tragedy can be another’s opportunity though. 
Thank you, Celeste!

I was stunned. The man before me was nothing like the Max I
had known eight years ago. Derek’s younger sister Brea was my best friend, so
we hung out at their house a lot.  Each night, as 6:00 p.m. approached, I would
convince Brea to hang out in the front yard so I could catch a glimpse of Max
when he dropped off Derek after football practice.  Derek had his own car but
preferred to ride around with Max in his red Beemer.  If we managed to catch
Max’ attention, he would wink and throw us a smirk before tearing off down the
street. 

“He’s such a dick,” was Brea’s favorite line. 

To me, though, he was my unattainable dream guy.  A little
over six feet tall, muscular, and had that thick, black hair that always just
fell into place.  He drove convertibles, so I remembered him usually sporting sunglasses
and the windblown look.  I never got a good look at him with his shirt off, but
I just knew he was ripped, with that V that leads to his…
God he was hot!

I would never forget the day of their prom.  Derek and his
date Jessica were in the living room trying to fix her wrist corsage when a car
pulled up outside.  I recognized that it was Max’ car just by the sound it
made.  I would never forget how disappointed I was when Max and Celeste came
through the door together.  Max looked incredible in a black tux, white shirt
matched with a gray vest and tie.  That was the picture of Max I held in my
mind for years.

Then my attention turned to Celeste, and much to my dismay,
she was gorgeous!  She must’ve been wearing a $1000 dress; at least it was in
my 14-year-old mind.  She looked like she could’ve stepped right out of a
princess fairytale.  The worst part was the way Max kept smiling and flirting
with her.  I cried myself to sleep that night, thinking I didn’t have a chance
with her around.  Looking back, I had to laugh.  I was completely oblivious to
the fact that him being a senior and me an eighth grader had automatically
disqualified me. All I knew was that I was in love
.

A month or so later, Derek, Max, and Celeste all graduated
high school.  By summer’s end, they had all but disappeared from my life. 
Every so often, I would ask Brea if she had heard anything about Max, but
details were few and far between.  For years, she told me I would never be
happy until I was able to forget him and move on.  My mother told me the same
thing.  I knew they were both right, but I never had any luck finding a guy who
could measure up to the superhero version of Max I carried around in my head. 
Now that life had roughed him up a little, it might be more of a level playing
field.
  Even though he’s a little beaten up, he’s still really hot!