Unobtainable (25 page)

~Harley~

Dyson’s pungent essence sat on my taste buds like a decadent memory. He lay sound asleep beside me, the slightest snore whispering past his parted lips in the silence of the room. His hand rested on his chest, rising and falling to the rhythm of his breathing. His fingers were long and slender, perfectly manicured and I could picture them as he punched numbers into his calculator. His eye lashes fanned out on his cheeks and the heavy stubble on his chin made him appear badass. He was striking and I could definitely see the right person falling in love with him. I’m afraid that person could not be me. I would only end up dragging him into my twisted existence where nightmares robbed any promise of sleep and happiness was an impossible dream where wishes never came true.

Not exactly riddled with guilt but something very close to it, I felt like I used him, like he was whore. I hoped Dyson didn’t feel the same after the way I’d treated him, the things I’d said were cruel.

I was far too frightened to close my eyes in case the nightmares started. I looked over and saw Dyson’s book on the table to my side. Luckily, he had one of those light gadgets attached to it, so I wouldn’t disturb him.
A Perfect
Passion, by Piper Kay,
the title sounded interesting, the author sounded even more so. I read the jacket cover and shrugged, why the fuck not? I read for a few hours, the book was really good but I was fading fast, head bobbing knowing I wouldn’t be awake for long.

The sun was shining into the room through a fin in the blind sitting oddly out of place. I rolled over to find Dyson’s side of the bed vacant. A taste of my own medicine left a bitter taste in my mouth. I got up and went to my own room, noting that the apartment was very quiet. Dyson had left early, probably on purpose. I decided to send a text and feel him out.

Me: You left early, I know you didn’t piss the bed since I’m still in it.

Dyson: Went for a run, headed to the office after.

Me: I was shocked you were gone when I got up.

Dyson: Didn’t think you would care. It was just sex, right?

Me: Sting! Yeah right just sex.

Dyson: See you at the office.

Me: Later.

Dyson: Later.

~Dyson~

“Hey kid, are you busy?” EJ asked, from the office doorway.

“Swamped,” I joked, tossing my glasses down and stretching my arms in the air. “What’s up?”

“Ellen’s trying out new recipes so she’s calling a family dinner tonight, you and Harley are invited. Seven sharp, I know you so don’t be late.”

Ellen, EJ’s wife ran a small catering company and every now and then she would use the family as guinea pigs to try out new things. I loved those nights. I always came home stuffed to the gills and supplied with enough leftovers to last a week. Ellen was such a sweetheart, she liked to spoil me, to take care of me and it pissed off EJ, which made it all the more fun.

“Tell Ellen I’ll be there,” I said, grabbing my coffee mug from my desk so I could use the interruption to get a fresh one.

We walked along the hall to the lunch room, EJ giving me a suspicious glare.

“Just you?” he asked. “What about Harley, aren’t you two joined at the hip lately?”

“I think he’s busy tonight,” I said, walking around him as we entered the lunch room.

The coffee was lukewarm so I dumped it into the sink and rinsed the glass carafe. I searched in the cupboard for a bag of coffee and got to work starting a new brew.

“Things in paradise starting to fizzle? You boys having marriage problems, a lovers spat?” EJ laughed. “It happens little brother. The one good thing going for you is that you’re not sleeping together. That’s when it gets really complicated. You fuck up, say the wrong thing, forget to take the trash out and you get to sleep with the dog on the sofa.”

I didn’t respond, just kept my back to EJ and pushed the button on the coffeemaker. EJ stood behind me and let out a sudden puff of air.

“You’re too quiet,” he said. “Look at me.”

The minute the coffeemaker started to brew with a loud hiss, I turned to look at EJ standing with his arms crossed over his chest with the commanding scowl we all knew so well.

“You’re not,” he shook his head. “Tsk, tsk…you stupid ass.”

“Not your problem, EJ,” I said, turning my back on him, fatal mistake.

He latched onto my arm and spun my around so fast I was practically seeing stars.

“Remember this is a marriage of convenience, like playing house for a little while. Once it’s done you’re supposed to gather up all your toys into your little red wagon and go home. If you validate this thing, it’s going to be harder to step outside of that sandbox. That’s not fair to either of you. Don’t fuck this up like everything else. Harley’s your friend, grow the fuck up and stick to the game.”

The sting from his words ran deep. I was such a loser, like I needed a reminder.

“Thank you very much for your encouraging words of wisdom,” I barked. “I’ll certainly take them into consideration. In the meantime, mind your own fucking business big brother.”

I tossed my mug into the sink and watched as the handle snapped off. Fuck, it was my favorite. I stormed down the hall to my office and slammed the door with enough gusto to rattle the diplomas on the wall. I straightened them and stood staring at my accolades. They were all graced with the word
Honors.
I was proud of my accomplishments. I had done my parents and grandparents proud too, though my personal life sucked shit on a good day.

It was time to take charge of my fate, no more fucking up, no more bullshit to add to the pile. It was time to surrender, lick my wounds and move forward no matter how bleak my future seemed.

Me: Do you know of any places available in your building?

Tag: Don’t think so but I can ask, why?

Me: I need an apartment genius!

Tag: Move in with me.

Me: I’ll think about it.

Tag: Come over tonight for pizza, you know you want to.

Me: Sounds good but Ellen’s cooking. Mind if I borrow your sofa? I’ll bring leftovers.

Tag: That bad? My couch is yours as long as you bring those leftovers.

Me: Thanks. Going for now, talk soon.

Tag: Call if you need me.

The door to my office swung open, Harley was stood on the threshold with his brows raised in question.

“Why didn’t you give me the opportunity to answer for myself?”

Oh boy, I should have seen this coming. EJ that rat bastard went behind my back to Harley. Note to self, kick EJ’s ass. I would feign ignorance and see where that got me.

“Answer what?” I asked, putting my glasses on and bringing my computer out of sleep mode.

“
We
were invited to EJ’s, why would you tell him I was busy?” Harley placed his hands on my desk and leaned closer.

“I didn’t think you’d be interested in spending time with
my
family.”

“Now it’s your family? They can’t be my friends anymore?”

“Look,” I stood, mirroring Harley’s stance. “Come or don’t come, the choice is yours.”

“I want to go,” he said.

“Fine, I’ll see you there.”

“We’re not going together?” Harley asked, straightening up, creating a distance. I could hear the disguised disappointment in his voice.

“No, I have to meet Tag tonight. I’ll need my car so I’ll see you there.”

I was snippy and getting snippier by the minute. With the smell of Harley’s cologne invading my nostrils and his voice ringing in my ears, it was getting harder to stay in neutral mode.

Move on
, I told myself,
step away from the man and move on. Detach, detach, detach.

“Don’t be like that, baby,” Harley stepped around the desk, invading my personal space where I was attempting to stay in control. My open palm landed on his solid chest and I would have melted at his feet, but I forced myself to stand defiant.

“You need to stop calling me baby, because I’m not your baby and I’m going to be like this from now until December eighteenth, then I won’t be in your way at all. Oh, and just so you know, yeah I love you, but I’ll get over it like everything else in my life I can’t have. I’ve dealt with bigger tragedies and survived. You can go back to being whoever you were before me, before I ruined your happy little life. Roommates, that’s all we are. I shouldn’t have slept with you again, I was wrong. Now, if you don’t mind I have work to finish.”

I sat before my knees gave out, shuffling my seat closer to my desk and watching from my peripheral vision as Harley left. My heart was breaking, it was shattering into a million tiny pieces, but this had to happen. I allowed my shoulders to sag, my head dropping onto my arm while I held back bucket loads of tears I would not permit to fall.

~Harley~

“Come in, come in,” Ellen said, yanking me by my jacket sleeve. She looked out the door passed me. “Where’s Dyson? Didn’t he come with you?”

“He’s not here?” I asked, somewhat shocked.

“The man will be late for his own funeral,” Clayton laughed. “Name your poison bud.”

“Just a beer. Thanks.”

Tobias came from the kitchen at the rear of the house and shook my hand. Ellen slipped my jacket off my shoulders and tossed it onto the living room sofa with the others. The door opened and we all turned, expecting Dyson.

“Benjamin Mathew, you’re late young man,” Ellen scolded her son. “Get those shoes off at the door and go get washed up before dinner.”

“Oh, mom!” Benjamin whined, leaning his skateboard against the wall and kicking off his shoes. He shrugged off his jacket, hooking it on the newel post, Ellen snatched it off again.

“Don’t you oh mom me,” she glared. “And don’t be rude, say hello to our guests.”

“What guests? It’s Uncle Toby and Uncle Harley, they’re not company,” he huffed.

I couldn’t help laughing and earned a dagger shooting glare from Ellen.

EJ’s son was all arms and legs as he raced up the steps two at a time. Like all of the males in the Michaels family he was tall, he would tower over them all one day. He had brown hair, chocolate brown eyes like Dyson and his father’s permanent scowl. The ladies or men would swarm to that bad boy persona when he got older. He was a good kid, had excellent grades in school and I was thrilled that he considered me his honorary uncle.

Sitting around the large Italian eating table we talked about work for a while, sports of course and then allowed Katie, Clayton’s daughter, and Christopher, Tobias’ son, to entertain us with magic tricks they had been perfecting for a school event. They were quite good except when a trick involving a paper cone and a glass of milk went wrong and I ended up with milk spilt over my knees.

Ellen was working hard to get dinner ready with help from Selma, Clayton’s wife, Heather, Tobias’ wife, and their daughter Lisa. They were setting everything out, buffet style, on the long kitchen island. I looked at my watch and as usual Dyson was nearly forty five minutes late. Perhaps because I came Dyson had decided on being a no-show.

The back door off the kitchen creaked as it opened and Dyson peeped his head around the corner as he kicked off his shoes with a smile.

“Sorry I’m late, I think I need a new battery, I had to get Tag to drop me off, he said to say hi.”

“How is Mr. Taggerty? We haven’t seen him since the wedding,” Ellen asked. “The first wedding I mean. Is he still cruising around the world with his camera?”

“Yep, he just came back from Moscow,” Dyson announced. “Next stop is Singapore for five days.”

“Lucky S.O.B,” Clayton said.

“No swearing Uncle Clay,” Christopher scolded.

“What did I say wrong?” Clayton shrugged.

“Son-of-a-bitch, mommy says that’s not nice,” Lisa piped in.

“Lisa!” Heather shook her head.

“Change of subject please,” Ellen said, hugging Dyson, rubbing her hand over his chest. “We nearly started without you, honey.”

Ellen had a soft spot for Dyson, it was kind of endearing the way she babied him like a little brother. She stood on tip toe and gave him a kiss on the chin.

“Sorry Ell, I should have called.” Dyson kissed her cheek, making her smile.

“It’s okay, everyone grab a plate and dig in,” she ordered, handing Dyson the first plate. “There’s a ton of food and I want honest reviews.”

I watched Dyson from across the table as he picked at his food. I wasn’t the only one to notice that he was less than zealous about what was on his plate.

“You don’t like it honey?” Ellen asked Dyson, with a worried look on her face as she handed him a glass of milk.

“I’m sure it’s great Ell, you’re cooking always is,” Dyson assured her. “My stomach’s just acting up today. Too much coffee or something, I’ll be fine.”

“You are a little pale, let me see you.” She put her hand on his cheek then her lips to his forehead. “You’re warm. You may have a bit of a fever. I’m going to get the thermometer and grab you some Tylenol.”

“Will you quit fussing over the man, Ellen,” EJ barked.

“You just worry about filling that hole in your face,” she snarled. “Don’t be a jerk, your little brother isn’t feeling well, have some compassion.”

Good old Ellen, she could dish it out when it came to EJ. She didn’t for a minute take any of his shit. We all knew who wore the pants in their household. EJ snarled, turning his attention back to his dinner plate.

“Actually Ell, would you forgive me if I bowed out and went home?” Dyson asked, meeting my eyes for a moment then looking away.

“No honey, you go home and get a good night’s sleep,” Ellen said, hugging his head against her chest, stroking his hair. “Call me if you need me to come take care of you.”

“You make sure he drinks lots of fluids,” Heather told me.

“Okay,” I answered, pushing my seat back to stand.

“You stay Harley, no sense missing out on free grub, I’m only going home to sleep,” Dyson told me. “Stay, I’ll get myself home. Call me a cab would you Ell?”

I wasn’t sure what to do. The girls were telling me to go take care of Dyson, the guys were telling me to stay and the look on Dyson’s face was telling me to back the fuck off or he was going to hurt me.

I stayed, after waiting until the cab came and walking Dyson out.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” I asked.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” he told me. “I’m staying at Tag’s tonight anyway, just so you know.”

“Baby, please?”

I watched as he got into the cab and it drove off.

~Dyson~

It was Thursday morning and today was the day the lawyer graced us with a visit. I planned to go to the apartment early to do some housework and laundry, but first I had to talk to Harley.

I knocked on the door and waited. When there was no answer I opened the door popping my head inside. Harley was sitting at his desk with his head in his hands, his cell phone sitting in pieces scattered across his desk.

“It’s going to take more than a little glue and duct tape to fix that,” I joked.

Harley’s head snapped up, his bloodshot eyes staring like he saw me, but looked right through me at the same time.

“Harley, what’s going on?” I asked, walking around the desk, squatting at his side.

“She wants to meet with me,” he said, his eyes exploring my face. “I can’t do it. They’re together you know? Bruno and her have teamed up, he’s probably pretending to be her bodyguard. A two bit criminal with a record as long as my arm and a political wanna-be. All I want is to be left alone. Is that asking too much?”

Harley had suffered long enough at their hands. Surely he had paid for all of their sins tenfold.

“Why? Did she say?” I asked. “Maybe you
should
meet with your mother and tell her face to face to fuck off.”

“She said it would be in my best interest to meet with her,” Harley scrubbed his palms over his face. “I know it’s asking a lot but…would you go with me? I just don’t want to be anywhere near Bruno, it’s not that I’m scared…I hate to ask, my problems are so not yours. Forget I said anything.”

No, he wasn’t scared, he was petrified. His face was as white as a sheet, making his bloodshot eyes standout as if he hadn’t slept in weeks. I loved Harley, I wasn’t going to turn my back on him when he needed me the most.

“I’m here for you,” I swore. “Have them meet us somewhere busy, a restaurant, and make it midday, downtown. She can say what she needs to and if it goes south, we have lots of witnesses. She’s not going to be stupid in a crowd, especially since people are more than likely going to recognize her.”

“Sounds like you’ve done this sort of thing before,” Harley said, as I stood.

“Don’t be crazy,” I tittered. “I watch a lot of movies, that’s all.”

“I appreciate this,” he said, standing and giving me a hug. Making me wish I could simply melt into his arms and stay there. “I owe you.”

“You owe me jack shit. I told you already, I love you, like it or lump it,” I backed away. “Someday you’ll figure out exactly what I’m saying.”

“I don’t believe in love,” Harley told me, opening the top drawer of his desk.

“You will when you find it,” I smiled.

“I don’t plan on looking.”

“Don’t worry,” I laughed. “It will find
you
.”

“Huh,” he snorted.

“Once it finds you it’ll brake you down…it can’t be outrun, or shoved to the side and ignored. It’s stronger than steel and though you fight it, it
will
win.”

He stood staring, studying my face while he weighed my words and I studied him back for a long pregnant moment.

“Lend me your phone,” Harley said, sweeping the broken parts of his phone into the drawer, trying hard to ignore what I was saying. “There’s a way to block your number, I wish I could remember how. I don’t want her having the business phone or yours either.”

“Give it here,” I said, taking the phone and setting it to block.

Harley tore off a corner from his desk calendar with a phone number scribbled on it. He punched in the number and waited, nervously tapping his finger on the edge of the desk.

“The corner of Lincoln and Connelly, The Boxcar Diner at one tomorrow,” he spoke dryly into the phone, his eyes narrowed. “Take it or fucking leave it.”

As soon as the words left his lips he ended the call and handed the phone back. I placed it in my pocket, happy he spared adding it to the phone graveyard in his top drawer. I sat in one of the chairs on the opposite side of his desk.

“Mr. Spiro is coming tonight,” I reminded Harley. “I’m leaving at two or so, I want to give the place a cleaning and there’s laundry I need to do. Oh, and make sure you leave any dry-cleaning you have by the door before you leave in the morning, I’ll drop it off on my way out with mine.”

“You don’t have to do all that,” Harley said, “I was going to hire someone.”

“We have an agreement,” I said. “Mr. Spiro will be here at five, see you then.”

I was dry, to the point and as I had rehearsed, detached.

~Harley~

It was four when I walked into the apartment. All I could smell was a combination of creamy vanilla, Mr. Clean and freshly brewed coffee. The place was gleaming. Every stainless steel surface sparkled as if it was brand new and the shine on the hardwood floor looked like a dark sheet of glass.

All the papers that had been strewn over the desks surface in the makeshift office were all organized into one neat tidy pile with an
I♥
NY paperweight on top. The bookcase had also been organized, trinkets and books strategically placed. The framed wedding picture from the mystery stranger was sitting on the corner of the desk. Strangely enough, it made me smile every time I looked at it.

In the living room, the other wedding picture sat on the coffee table I made, on a silver tray with a few black pillar candles and a few black glass beads. The sofa was plumped up, all the throw pillows displayed just so with a crocheted afghan I didn’t recognize over the back.

When I started to climb the stairs I heard Dyson’s shower running. I walked into my bedroom and sighed with relief when I saw that it was just as messy as when I had left this morning. My towel remained over the back of the chair, my dirty socks and underwear beside the bed on the floor and my bed unmade.

As I undressed, I scrutinized the room I considered my sanctuary. I had handmade all the furniture, it was one of a kind. The sleigh-bed was spectacular, oversized and stained as black as the ace of spades. I had made the matching highboy big enough to house a 42” plasma screen and a nine drawer dresser. The bedside tables also matched and each had a clear glass lamp with a black satin shade. The bedspread and sheets were black satin with a huge red rose in the center. They were actually quite tacky, kind of like something you would find in a brothel.

Above the bed there was a spectacular black chandelier hanging that looked like a black crystal explosion. I bought it from a local artist at an art exhibit years ago, I kept the canned-air manufacturers in business, being as it was the only way to keep it clean.

Dyson would have had a hay day in my room cleaning it. He’d love it; it was the nicest room in the house. I felt suddenly selfish and conflicted. In a way I wanted to go right now and get Dyson and share this piece of me, yet the idea of giving up this part of myself was bone chilling.

Naked as the day I was born, I stood in the center of the ensuite taking it in. I called it
the fifty shades of grey shitter.
I chuckled to myself. The walls were multiple shades of grey tiles, the floor another, the cabinets, the fixtures, all grey. Everything, even the towels hanging from the grey powder coated towel bars and the soap in the soap dish. Call it strange, but to a man who was colorblind, it was perfect.