“Yeah?” he finally sounded out, impatiently.
“Your mom–”
“She’s not here.”
I looked down at the time on my phone. “She said she would be here. We arranged dinner for 5:30.”
“Well, she’s not here.” The edginess in his tone freaked the hell out of me. So did his eyes: grim and cold as he regarded me with that same loathing as last night.
“Jaxon,” Christy sounded from behind him. There was a warning in her tone. He turned around to look at her. When she raised her brows, he exhaled in irritation and walked away from the door, leaving it open.
When he was well out of view, Christy walked over to me with a smile on her face. “Hey, Sara, come in.”
I hesitantly stood for a few seconds, debating whether to just turn around and go back to the motel instead.
“Come on,” she gestured me inside with her head.
I noticed, with great relief as I stepped inside, that her hair was not wet. So she must not have showered with him. Because showering with him would have required her to get naked with him, and that thought made my stomach queasy and my inner bitch jealous.
“You’re really wet,” she said.
Well, duly noted, Christy. “Yeah, I had to take the bus.”
“How come?”
“Car was stolen.”
Her mouth dropped. “That’s awful. Called the police?”
“Yeah, I did all that.”
“I hope they find it.” She shut the door and began walking through the foyer. When she noticed I wasn’t following, she stopped and looked over at me, green eyes twinkling under the foyer light. “You coming?”
“I’ll just give Lucinda a call.” Good excuse.
“Okay, well, we’ll be in the living room.”
I nodded despite thinking, as if I would join you two. I walked over to the spiral staircase and took a seat on the bottom step. I closed my eyes for a minute. I was angry. Lucinda had said it would just be the two of us. Why was he here? And why the hell didn’t she tell me she wasn’t home yet? I had my little mini-meditation, and then I rang Lucinda.
“Oh, shit!” she cursed as she picked up. “Shit, I totally lost track of time. Where are you? Shit. You’re not standing out front of the house, are you?”
“No, Jaxon let me in.”
“Oh, double shit. I don’t know what he’s doing there.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m doing Loraine Chidley’s hair. Remember her?” No. “I put the color in and everything, but her damn hair didn’t take to it. So I’ve had to re-do it. I didn’t think it was past five in the afternoon already. God damn it.”
See, Sara, she didn’t mean any of it! “That’s alright. I’ve had a pretty long day. I wouldn’t have been good company, anyway.”
“But I really wanted to see you. How about you stay the night? That way you’ll be there when I get home in the next hour or so.”
“I can’t. I’ve got to get back to my room.” And I desperately wanted to be away from her son.
She sighed, clearly disappointed. “Alright, then. Well, look, I’ll make it up to you, okay?”
“Okay. I gotta get going.”
“Alright, hon.”
After our goodbyes, I put the phone in my purse and stood up. I looked at the front door and then at the hallway leading to the living room. Would it be rude if I just walked out without letting them know? Yes, it would be. Fuck.
I grabbed the bag of tightly packed Chinese food and inched my way there. I heard the television blaring in the background and other voices when I neared. It sounded like the brothers I’d met last night, and they were all having a hushed conversation of some kind. Eavesdropping couldn’t be helped, especially now that I was hovering just out of view in front of the living room entrance.
“Weren’t you with her all those years ago?” Josh asked curiously.
“I don’t remember,” Jaxon mumbled.
“Fucking liar.”
“What happened?” Christy hesitantly asked.
“I don’t remember,” Jaxon repeated. “She was that fucking forgettable.”
“She’s hot,” remarked Kurt. “If she was that forgettable, you won’t mind me nearing that, hey?”
“She’s taken, you fucking idiot. God help the guy she’s with, too. She’s a psychotic bitch, and I’d have nothing to do with her if it weren’t for my mom.”
Wow. I didn’t know what to say, but my body heaved forward, as if registering with that old flame of anger I’d extinguished all those years ago through therapy. I was mentally aware of my actions, and I wasn’t going to say anything out of that anger from catching someone say those things about me. Over time I had done remarkably well building restraint.
They were seated on the couch. One couch was facing my way, and the other the opposite way, with its back to me. The first one to see me was Kurt. His face fell and his eyes popped out of his thin head. Josh followed, and then Christy. They all looked suddenly pale, like they’d just been caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Jaxon was the last to look my way, and his body stiffened slightly at my appearance, but out of disgust or surprise, I didn’t know.
“I’m heading off,” I said, putting on a fake smile. “Was just wondering where the bathroom was.”
“Beside the stairs,” Christy squeaked.
“I’ve also got this Chinese food here that I won’t be having. It’s still fresh and hot, if anyone’s hungry.”
Josh jumped off the couch and walked over to me. He couldn’t look me in the eye, but he attempted a smile and said, “Awesome. Thanks, Sara. I’m starving.”
I handed him the bag. “See you, guys.” I left before anyone had a chance to respond.
I didn’t bother going to the bathroom. I didn’t need to, and I only said it so they didn’t think I was snooping on them. I stepped out of the house and stood there for a long moment, hating life all the more because the rain had started picking up.
“You serious?” I called out to the sky above. “You barely rain all fucking day, and now it’s got to start?”
My jacket didn’t even have a damn hood. Damn this shit and my stupid shallowness in buying designer jackets that did me no favors in crappy weather. I made sure my purse was zipped tight; the last thing I needed was my phone to get wet and ruined. At this rate, I wouldn’t be surprised stepping into an invisible sinkhole and dying a horrible death at the bottom.
Would anyone miss me? I mused to myself as I walked down the rainy sidewalk. If I died, I think I’d have three people show at my funeral: Lexi, Daniel, and Lucinda. Jaxon might actually stop by and piss on my grave just to prove all the more that he hated my guts even when they were rotting six feet beneath him. I abruptly stopped imagining that, quite disturbed by my train of thought. I just wanted to get into the shelter of a bus, even though I was probably going to have to wait a while at the stop; the stop that was brand new and had no overhead cover, I recalled. Fuck my life.
Forgettable. Psychotic bitch. I gritted my teeth. Sure, I expected for him to think badly of me, but what about all those memories of us together, of how happy we used to be? Forgettable apparently. I wished they were to me, too. It’d spare me the pain. I’d spent God knows how many nights in bed pining for the good times because they were solidified in my memory.