So Different (19 page)

Hell, he had just gotten past Jamie, although that had been easier than it should have been. Now he wondered now if he even loved her, or just loved the idea of what he thought she represented to him. He rubbed his hand over his face, worried about his new feelings, ones he wasn’t sure he could trust. He’d better get some sleep. Work would be here before he knew it. He lay awake staring into the night for another thirty minutes or so, before his mind relaxed enough to sleep.

* * *

Friday night found Mariah back at work at her brother’s place. She’d decided that the nights that had been used for Adam and their sex-a-thons would now be spent here, working. She’d given Joshua the night off. He was pleased and said he couldn’t remember his last Friday night off.

It was ten minutes until closing when she looked up to find her buddy Casper sauntering through the door.

“If your want something to eat, let me know,” she said, picking up a menu and bringing it to Casper who was heading to an empty table. “Jacob’s closed the kitchen, but I could stick something in the microwave for you.”

“Nope, I’m just checking in. Grey Bolt has turned into the co-captain from hell in her effort to make sure we win our final bout and receive another crack at the Divas,” Casper said, looking over the menu anyway. “I’m tired and sore,” she added. “Can I get some water, since I’ve been sworn off soda and beer until this season is over.”

“Sure,” Mariah said, grabbed a bottle of water and plopped it down on the table when she returned.

“So where’s Joshua?” Casper asked, scanning the room.

“Gone home early. I spent the evening here, working.”

“Is he missing a waitress?”

“Nope, I just had some extra time and thought to help him out without his badgering me. Plus he could use some time off.”

“That’s Mariah, always looking out for her big brother.”

“Don’t start, Casper,” she said, weary all of a sudden.

“So how’s it going with the Junior Dentist?” Casper asked.

“We’re done,” Mariah said, looking around the restaurant. One couple remained. Sasha had cleared all the tables except that one.

“Give me a minute. I’m going to tell Sasha she can leave early and that I can finish up,” she said as she walked to the back. Five minutes later she returned with her own bottle of water, locked the front door, and took a seat opposite Casper at her table.

“I told you he didn’t show up last week, right?” Mariah said.

“Yes.”

“He stopped by Tuesday and I went home with him and we were back to the normal routine, right? We didn’t talk much at first, but later, he received a text. Remember the girl he brought to the first game?”

Casper nodded.

“Well, it seems he took her out last week, the week he didn’t stop by practice. So after we’d just finished, you know…” she said, looking at Casper, who shook her head in silent understanding, “…he gets this text, from her, which he reads with me at his shoulder. He wanted me to read it, of course. He was completely honest and told me he had taken her out, that we were sex, reminding me that’s what I’d agreed to. So I left. No dramatics, no you’re an asshole, because you know what? He offered exactly what he said he would, and while that had been okay before, it wasn’t okay now.”

“What if he comes by practice?”

“I don’t think he will. I’m not that important to him. I mean why did he show me that text if he didn’t want me to know my place in his life? As if I didn’t. No, don’t say anything,” she said, putting her hand up to forestall any of Casper’s impending comments. “I was a party to it, too. I get that. Let me take care of that last table and I’ll be right back.” She met the couple at the counter, rang them up, and let them out the front door before locking it behind them.

“But if he does stop by, I won’t be there. Brass Knuckles is out of it and the season is over for us. We were actually out three games ago,” she said and laughed, picking up the basket to clear off the table. “So I’m skipping practice for a while, in case he does show. Plus I don’t want to be staring at the door, hoping he’ll walk in. Hell, he is probably grateful and probably had been looking for an end to it all. He was just waiting for me to do it.” She stood to take her tub of dishes to the back. Casper stood up to follow her.

“He might surprise you,” Casper said.

“Whatever.”

Fourth week in June

On Thursday of the following week Adam found himself at the Rail Yard, hoping to see Mariah tonight, to apologize for the other night. He was still irritated with himself, and with her for wanting to change the rules of the game. He didn’t want changes, he liked it just the way it was, but he was coming to the conclusion that he might—just might—be willing to make an adjustment or two, if that was what it would take to keep her in his bed. He wasn’t ready to stop, nowhere near ready, if he was being honest.

On Tuesday he thought he’d let it go, and stayed away from practice, but by Wednesday afternoon he realized that it would be stupid to end things. They were great together, and would it hurt him to see her more? No had been his answer.

So he parked and looked around the parking lot. He didn’t see her Bug. He was surprised, but headed into the building anyway. He wished he’d gotten her number; he could have, would have called. He could still retrieve her number from his file. Nope. He would not, however tempting. He strolled in, casually and spotted some of her teammates. There were not as many as were normally present, and no Mariah. He checked his watch. She should be here by now.

One of her friends rolled over to him. He remembered her name, had met her before, the night at Pinky’s.

“Mariah’s not here,” she said.

“Lisa,” he said.

“Yes,” she said and smiled.

“Mariah’s not here, and I haven’t heard from her,” she said.

“Do you have her number?” he asked.

“You don’t?” she asked, surprised.

“No.”

“Oh.”

He couldn’t think of any explanation for its absence that didn’t put him in a bad or odd light, so he kept quiet.

“Sorry, I can’t give it to you then. It wouldn’t be right, since she hasn’t given it to you personally. You understand,” she said.

“Sure, no problem. Just tell her I stopped by if you see her,” he said. He turned around walked back out and into the night.

Maybe she’d show up at his apartment. Right; that was highly unlikely, given Mariah. How long had it taken to get her there the first time? He sat on his couch until late into the night. She didn’t stop by. And really, what had he been thinking? How had showing her that text been useful?

She surprised him the other night by the way in which she handled his small rejection. Okay, so maybe it hadn’t been small. She hadn’t gotten angry, or if she had she’d done a magnificent job of hiding it. She hadn’t thrown a tantrum, no pleading, no begging, no tears, all which had been tools in Jamie’s arsenal. Nope, just she just decided
I want something else and you’re not it
. He smiled at that and at Mariah, doing things her way, the unexpected way.

There was also the next bout, if all else failed. Maybe he could talk to her there. The Divas were playing the Prissy Missies. It should be an easy victory for the Divas. If they won, they would be the league champions.

* * *

Saturday morning found Adam at his parents, helping his dad dig up the backyard. His pop’s lifelong dream of building a putting green in the backyard was close to being realized. They had finished digging out an area about a quarter of the size of the yard for it. His mother had agreed, finally.

“Going to the derby tonight?” his dad asked.

“I am.”

“Good. How’s it going with Mariah?”

“How’s what going with Mariah?”

“You know. Don’t play dumb. You’ve been seeing her. She’s a nice girl, you could do worse. Oh, you have,” he said, laughing. It took him a minute to stop.

“Most fathers would give their sons sympathy and compassion,” Adam said. His dad brushed that comment aside with his hand.

“I’ve seen you at the bouts, when you’re not hiding, talking to her, watching her. She’s a nice girl, a beautiful woman in her own way.”

“I don’t hide,” he said.

“Sure you don’t. So, anyway, how’s it going with Mariah?” his dad asked again.

“Good.”

“So you
are
seeing her?”

“Sometimes,” he said.

His dad stopped and looked at him. “What happened?” he asked.

“Not discussing my love life with you, Pops.”

“Love, is it?”

“It’s not. What’s next?” Adam asked, glancing around the backyard. His dad stood and watched him for a while, and didn’t say anything for a good two minutes.

“Is she the reason you’ve got something stuck up your butt this morning?”

“Do you need my help or not?” Adam Jr. said, pointing to the yard.

“We’re done. That’s all that I’m doing today, anyway,” he said, smiling at his son’s irritation.

“I’m going home, then. I’ll see you later,” Adam said, turning and walking out the backyard.

“See you at the bout,” he shouted to Adam as he watched him leave, smiling.

* * *

Last Saturday in June

Demented Diva’s vs. Prissy Missies

Adam parked near the front, decided to get here early, maybe even sit with his pops. What would be the point in pretending he hadn’t been seeing Mariah now? Hell, maybe she would stop and say hello to his father and he would have a chance to talk to her.

He handed his ticket over to someone—not Mariah—and went in search of her. She wasn’t at the concession stand or handing out programs. She was not anywhere that he could see. He recognized some of her teammates. Of course, none offered up much by way of encouragement, unless you counted that scowl from Sally as she stood next to the beer guy at the concession stand when he’d picked up his beer.

He spotted his dad sitting next to his sister and took the empty seat next to Yvette. She looked up in surprise while his father just gave him a smirk.

“I didn’t know you liked the derby,” Yvette shouted into his ear, trying to be heard over the band and the approaching train, which was blowing its whistle, alerting the arena to its impending arrival.

“I do now,” he said. “This is the first time I’ve seen you here.”

“Haven’t been able to make it much this year. I met this new guy since I talked to you last,” she screamed into his ear. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” he said.

The fans were all standing up now, hearing the rumble as the train made its way over the track. The doors of the arena were open, the larger ones that turned this venue into an outdoor one. The horn of the train sounded and the fans began stomping in earnest. He looked at his sister and his pops, stomping along with the crowd, laughing and shouting, and he joined in.

Two minutes later the train roared past, shaking the building and adding to the already frenzied atmosphere.

The two teams were lined up, waiting for the lights to dim. The Divas were expected to win handily over the Prissies. Adam wasn’t so sure—the two new Diva jammers were hurt. Red and blue lights roamed around the building as the women rolled onto the rink, their fans shouting and stomping their encouragement, loosened up by good old Lone Star Beer.

He searched for Mariah too many times to count during the bout. No luck. Who knew where she was. She could be here, but he would not be able to find her in this crowd. He wasn’t sure what options he had left. He could always check her address at work, but he wouldn’t. He needed her to give it to him.

The Divas lost, another upset in this season of upsets. The Prissies were beside themselves, dancing and rolling around the arena. Their win was a boon for Casper and Team Thunderstorm. They would have another shot at the league championship. They just needed to win their final match and then win the rematch with the Divas. Adam said goodbye to this dad and sister and headed home.

* * *

Mariah had made it to the game, and was tucked into the announcer’s booth, playing assistant to the loud and obnoxious Jimmy Derange. She saw Adam sitting next to his father and some girl; not Tiff, this one was dark-haired. He’d moved on faster than even she’d thought. She heard from her teammates that he’d stopped by practice, which had surprised and pleased her, but not enough to go back. Glad she made that decision to move on.

Of course she could have gone back, and then what? Been back at his house on her back? Not that she had anything against that, but that wasn’t getting her where she now wanted to be. So, no looking back.

* * *

First week in July

He felt like an idiot stopping by the Skate-o-torium. He suspected she wasn’t here, but apparently he was too much of an idiot to prevent himself from going. He entered the building, said hello to the old guy that manned the counter when he wasn’t dozing, and walked through the door leading to the rink.

He hated this. Her teammates were standing around, watching him, not at all helpful. If he were a weaker man he’d be intimidated by them.

He took a deep breath and headed over to them. Lisa he recognized, along with Sally, and the other woman, large and formidable, he knew was a blocker, but hadn’t met her officially. From the looks he received he knew they weren’t going to offer him any assistance, but he’d try anyway.

“Hello, Lisa,” he said.

“Hey,” she said, returning his smile. She liked him, but not enough to help him. The others were silently standing around, glaring.

“Is Mariah here?”

“No.”

“Any idea when she might return?”

“Sorry. I don’t.”

“Thanks,” he said and turned around and left. They watched him leave, laser eyes beaming into his back.

“Think we should call Mariah and tell her he came by again?” Good & Plenty asked.

“Nope. She told us that she didn’t want to see him. We are going to honor her wishes. He did look kind of disappointed, and he’s really cute,” Lisa said, watching him exit the building.

“Fuck him,” Sally said, skating away and putting an end to that discussion.

He walked back to his car, annoyed and irritated, and went home to spend his evening waiting uselessly.

* * *

The following Thursday he was back at the other location, the Rail Yard. No sign of her car or her electric scooter in the parking lot. His insides squirmed around in his chest; he hadn’t seen her in two weeks now. She couldn’t hide out forever; he’d now become a crazed stalker, like his ex-fiancée.

He entered the main area from the foyer and looked over at her team lining up. Of course she wasn’t among them. Of course Sally gave him the evil eye as he entered the room. No surprise there. He turned around and left, deciding it wasn’t worth it, that she wasn’t worth it. Fuck it, he thought, he didn’t need this grief.

* * *

“What’s up with you?” Yvette asked, glancing over him as they walked into the kitchen. She had volunteered them to clean up Sunday’s dinner dishes.

“Nothing.”

“Yeah, right. You’re moping around like you lost your best friend,” Yvette said, setting her plate on the counter. “Are you still seeing that derby girl? What was her name?”

“Mariah,” he said.

“Mariah. Why haven’t you brought her by to meet us? You brought all the other dull and insipid ones over. What’s up with this Mariah?”

“We’re just friends,” he said, stacking his plate on top of hers.

“Okay… since when did you stop introducing your friends to your family?” she asked as she scraped their plates into the disposal, an old habit from their childhood.

“Nothing. She wants to be friends,” he said.

“To be friends? That shouldn’t be too hard for you. What’s the problem?” she asked.

“There’s no problem.”

“You want what?” she asked, smiling at the look on his face as what he wanted became clear. “Men. What is it with you all? So she wants more than sex and you don’t.”

“Not sure,” he said.

“Not sure of what? That she wants more, or that you don’t?”

“I just got rid of one crazy fiancée remember?”

“Yeah, like six months ago.”

“Don’t get mad at what I’m going to say,” he said.

“Okay.”

“I do want to see her more than Tuesday and Thursday nights.”

“Did you just say Tuesday and Thursday nights?” she said, glancing over her shoulder, shaking her head at his response. “Like an appointment?”

“No, it wasn’t like that, and she agreed with it, too. She didn’t want anything different than that, either, at the beginning.”

“But she does now.”

“She does now,” he said.

“So, what to do?”

“I’ve been trying to contact her. I’m willing to date if that’s what she wants,” Adam said.

“No harm in dating her; get her hopes up that you want more. It’s all good as long as you can keep getting that nice Tuesday and Thursday action,” she said.

“It wouldn’t be like that.”

“Right,” she said.

“See? I knew I shouldn’t have talked to you. I knew that you’d take her side.”

“It’s not a side, but think about what you’ve said. You’re going to play along in order to keep the whatever flowing. That’s not what any woman wants to hear. Just let it go, find another woman to screw. That can’t be hard. You’re not too bad-looking.”

He was silent for a minute. “It’s not just that. She’s funny and tough, a little bit of a challenge,” he said.

“So you do like her?”

“Yes, enough to see if we can be friends, too.”

Yvette sighed. “Well try and talk to her. Be honest, no bullshit; it will only come back to bite you. If you want sex, tell her. If you want to be friends to have sex, tell her that, too. Just be up front. If she’s a big girl, she’ll tell you to kiss her ass,” she said, smiling at that.

He laughed, shook his head, and walked out of the kitchen. If he could only find her, he’d take Yvette’s advice; he did like her. It was scary, though. He’d be moving from Jamie, who’d looked great on paper but was psycho in person, to Mariah, who didn’t look great on paper, and was probably proud of that fact.

* * *

“Your teeth look great, Jenny,” he said, sitting back and removing the gloves from his hands. “You’ve got to lay off the candy, though. Your mom works too hard to make sure your teeth stay healthy. You’ve got to help her,” he added, feeling strange in his role as the adult chastising a child. He sounded way too much like his father.

“Okay, doc,” she said, smiling her new and improved smile.