Tangled Series: Tamed Part 18

"She's not. At least, she never was before."

I nod. "And Drew . . . well, he doesn't screw around with girls from the office. It's kind of a rule he lives by. He's never broken it before. Not once."

He leans back on the couch, mollified-relieved-by my statement.

Then, roughly, he says, "This sucks."

I agree. "Breakups always do."

He snorts. "This is my first one. Kate and me . . . we've been together forever-since we were fifteen. She's been my first everything. I thought she'd be my last everything too. My only."

I just nod and let him talk.

"But the last few years . . . it feels like we've just been holding each other back, you know? I don't think I'll ever stop loving her . . . but it's not the same. It's not enough. We don't . . . fit . . . anymore."

Sympathetically, I tell him, "That happens-a lot. People change."

He nods too. "Yeah." He takes another swig of beer. "Still f.u.c.king blows chunks though."

"It gets better."

We sit silently for a few minutes-our heart-to-heart time over.

So I pick up the remote and pull up the on-demand movies. "You want to watch Predator?"

Billy pours himself another shot. "Sure. Never seen it."

I grin. "It'll change your life."

A few hours before sunrise, Delores comes walking back into her apartment. I'm half asleep on the well-used recliner while Billy's pa.s.sed out cold on the couch.

The vodka bottle sits empty on the coffee table-its purpose fulfilled.

Dee kicks off her shoes with a sigh. Then she sees me. And she's surprised. "You're still here?"

"Am I not supposed to be?"

"No, no, it's fine."

She covers her cousin with the throw blanket, brushing his hair back tenderly, like a mother with a feverish toddler. Then, she walks past me into her bedroom. I get up and follow her.

"How's Kate?"

Delores takes off the outfit she's still wearing from the party-letting the clothes fall off her to the floor. Leaving them there. Revealing tiny leopard print panties and a matching strapless bra.

"Kate's a mess. She's hurt . . . Billy said some messed-up stuff during their argument. Harsh s.h.i.t. And she feels guilty. Billy worked his a.s.s off to support Katie while she was in school. She hates herself, now that she won't be able to return the favor."

Dee keeps her back to me when she removes her bra, only turning around after she slips a red Phillies T-shirt over her head.

"Thank you for staying with him, Matthew."

"Of course."

She sighs, but her shoulders are stiff. "I'm really tired."

I start to unb.u.t.ton my shirt, to join Dee in bed. I'm not looking to get laid-although with the amount her cousin drank tonight, I don't think even a full-fledged f.u.c.k fest would wake him up. But I'm not expecting what Dee says next.

"You can go now."

My fingers freeze on the b.u.t.tons. "What?"

"I said, thank you, I'm tired-you can go." And her eyes are flat, her face taught-like a mannequin in a department store.

I step toward her, trying to make it past her att.i.tude.

"Dee, I know you're upset . . ."

"Or maybe I just don't want you here, Matthew!" she lashes out. "Maybe I just want to be alone."

And, yes-in case you're wondering-this is my p.i.s.sed-off face. Jaw clenched, lips tight, eyes alive with adrenaline. I'm angry at her words-her outlook-her stubborn f.u.c.king inability to look at me and our relationship without the black cloud of her past hanging over it.

"You don't want to be alone-you're just f.u.c.king scared. You see Kate and your cousin and you don't want to feel what they're feeling . . ."

She claps her hands slowly. Sarcastically.

"Brilliant deduction, Watson. Forget Chippendales-if banking doesn't work out, it sounds like you want to be a therapist."

I push a hand through my hair, trying to rein in the frustration that makes me want to put my hand through her bedroom wall.

"This pushing me away s.h.i.t is getting really f.u.c.king old, Delores."

"Well there's the door." She points at it. "Why don't you go find yourself something brand spanking new."

My voice is low-but fuming. "Good idea. I'll do that."

Then I turn around and walk out of the G.o.dd.a.m.n room.

I make it all the way to the living room-my hand on the apartment door-before I stop. Because this is exactly what she's expecting. For me to give up. On her.

On us.

Dee would rather hit first and then throw in the towel than risk getting sucker punched later on.

I know this. As well as I know the last thing she really wants is for me to leave.

To leave her alone.

My hand drops from the door and I walk purposefully back into her bedroom. She sits ramrod straight on the edge of her bed, facing away from me.

"I'm not leaving. You want to yell? You can yell at me. Feel like hitting something? I can take a punch. Or, we don't have to talk at all. But . . . I'm not going anywhere."

I sit on the bed and take off my shoes-the rest of my clothes quickly follow. Dee slides under the covers, then switches off the lamp, but the room doesn't plunge into total darkness. There's just enough light from the window to make out her silhouette-on her back, staring up at the ceiling. Boxers on, I climb under the covers next to her. And as soon as my head is on the pillow, she moves closer, turning on her side and resting her forehead against my bicep.

"I'm glad you didn't go."

I wrap my arm around her, pulling our bodies together-her cheek now on my chest, her hand on my stomach, our legs entwined. Delores whispers, "What am I supposed to do tomorrow? It's Thanksgiving. Kate, Billy, and I were going to spend the day together-go out for steak."

My brow wrinkles. "Steak?"

I feel her shrug. "Everybody eats turkey. I hate doing what everyone else does."

And I can't help but smile.

"I can't choose between them," she continues. "This is going to be hard enough-I don't want either of them to feel lonely." Dee lifts her head and looks into my eyes. "If Steven and Alexandra broke up, who would you pick to spend the day with?"

I stroke her back lightly and answer in the most unhelpful way possible.

"I don't know."

She lies back down on my chest. And I add, "You don't have to choose. You could blow them both off equally and come to Drew's parents' place with me for dinner."

She snorts. "No, I can't do that."

I didn't actually think she'd go for it.

I suggest an alternative. "Your cousin is going to be sleeping it off for many hours to come. And when he does wake up, I can guarantee he's not gonna want to eat steak. Leave Billy a note, meet up with Kate for brunch, spend the afternoon with her, then take him out for a late dinner."

"But they'll both still be alone, for part of the day at least."

"They're adults, Dee. They'll deal. And who knows, maybe tomorrow they'll patch things up."

"I don't think so," she says softly. "It's probably for the best if they don't."

"That's pretty much what your cousin said too."

She kisses my chest lightly-one sweet peck. "It's just . . . sad. The end of an era."

I squeeze her. Dee tilts her head back to look at me. "Matthew, these last few weeks with you and me . . . I . . ." She pauses and licks her lips. "I . . . I'm really glad you stayed tonight."

"Me too."

After a few minutes, her breathing turns steady and deep. I think she's fallen asleep, until, in a small voice she says, "Just . . . don't hurt me . . . okay."

I run my hand through her hair and hold her tight. "Not ever, Delores. Promise."

They're the last words we speak before we both fall asleep.

Early the next morning, Dee wakes up just long enough to kiss me good-bye. I walk past Billy-dead to the world-on the couch and go home for a long shower. Then I drive up to Drew's parents' country place for the day's festivities.

All the usual suspects are in attendance-John and Anne, Steven and Alexandra, George, and my mother and father. I make my way through the handshakes and hugs to the back sunroom, which affords a panoramic view of the pristine backyard. And a view of Drew-with Mackenzie-riding opposite ends of the very same seesaw we played on, as kids, a lifetime ago.

Although they seem to be engaged in a serious conversation, I walk out the back door anyway, to join them. Drew lets Mackenzie know I'm here and she jumps off the seesaw, runs, and throws herself into my arms like she hasn't seen me for months. But I eat it up and give her a long hug when her little arms wrap around my neck.

Then I set her down and we walk back to Drew. "Hey, man," he greets me.

"What's up?" I ask. "You go out early last night? You never came back to the party."

He shrugs. "My head wasn't in it. I hit the gym and went to bed."

Huh. That kind of behavior is weird for Drew, and I wonder if it has anything to do with his p.i.s.sy att.i.tude toward Kate and Billy at the party.

"You hung out with that Delores chick?" he asks.

I nod. And test the waters. "Her, Kate, and Billy."

He shakes his head. "That guy licks a.s.s."

Mackenzie walks over to us and holds up the Bad Word Jar-Alexandra's invention-to keep us in check around her kid. It's simultaneously a bane of my existence and completely f.u.c.king hysterical.

"He's not so bad."

Drew says, "Idiots annoy me." And he loses another dollar.

I think he does it on purpose-actually curses more than he would if the jar didn't exist. Like a twisted sort of reverse psychology, just to buck the system and show his sister that he won't be controlled.

And maybe you're wondering why I haven't told him about Billy and Kate's breakup? The answer is simple: Guys don't f.u.c.king gossip. We don't talk about s.h.i.t like that-other people's relationship issues. We barely talk about our own relationship issues. It's just that simple.

Plus, Drew would be on Kate like white on rice, if he knew she got dumped. Because everyone knows dumped chicks are low-hanging fruit. Easy pickings. I think it would give him an unfair advantage in their little battle of the s.e.xes. One he doesn't need.

Lastly, people break up all the time . . . only to get back together the very next day. Despite what Dee said, Billy seemed pretty devastated over Kate. I have a feeling he's going to try for one more at bat before that particular game gets called.

There's no point in getting Drew's hopes up in the meantime.

"So what's the deal with you and Delores?" he asks.

I smile. And keep it simple. "We're hanging out. She's cool."

"I'm a.s.suming you've nailed her?"

I frown. Because even though I know he doesn't mean to be disrespectful, Dee's not just some random chick. Hearing him talk about her like she is feels disrespectful. So I set him straight. "It's not like that, Drew."

Now he's confused. "Then what's it like, Matthew? You haven't hung out in over two weeks. I can understand you being too p.u.s.s.y-whipped to come out if you're getting some. But if not, what's the deal?"

I wait for Mackenzie to approach us with the Bad Word Jar . . . but she doesn't. Guess she didn't hear that one.

Then I try to get Drew to understand, but since he's never been in love with anyone except himself, I really don't know if he can. "She's just . . . different. It's hard to explain. We talk, you know? And I'm always kind of thinking about her. It's like the minute I drop her off, I can't wait to see her again. She just . . . amazes me. I wish you knew what I meant."

He warns me. "You're in dangerous territory, man. You see what Steven goes through. This path leads to the Dark Side. We always said we wouldn't go there. You sure about this?"