Ally
The list is complete.
I've checked all ten things off and I really do feel like a newer version of myself. Although thinking about it, about my state of mind after I found Elliot with that hooker, I have to wonder if I really needed the list to reinvent myself or just some time on my own.
There were so many things wrong with Elliot and me that I had become focused on those wrong things. I just couldn't see that we weren't perfect for each other because I wanted perfect so much. I wanted a family. To belong to someone. To be loved. And he had what I wanted. Offered it to me. Elliot was really close with his family, and I loved that about him. I loved them. They loved me too. But he always put them before me. He put almost everything before me. Normally, it wasn't a problem, but sometimes it was.
His constantly being late also bothered me. As did the fact that he would forget to do about half of the things he said he would. Nothing big. Just little things, like he'd say he'd pick up ice cream for after dinner and show up at my place without it. Tell me he'd bring me coffee in the morning and never show up. When we'd talk later, he'd tell me he got called into work. Maybe it was true, maybe not. I could never tell.
The sun is hot in the bluest of skies today. The air is warm. And palm trees are swaying back and forth. I really do love it here.
As soon as I turn the corner, I spot Austin's mop of blond hair. He's sitting at an outdoor table at the café around the block from my work, just like he told me he would be doing today at noon when we firmed up our lunch plans, but he's with Dez.
"I don't know, man, but I'd say that's an easy one," Dez says to Austin, removing his dark sunglasses. His light blue eyes almost disappear as he squints against the sun.
"You're a lot of fucking help," Austin says in return.
"What's easy?" I ask as I approach Austin from behind.
His head snaps around. He looks a little guilty about something. Ever since the pregnancy scare I have felt that something's going on. My mind might be reading too much into everything, but I can't stop myself. He seems to be pulling away from me. And after his forgetting lunch yesterday, all I can think about is how everything started to fall apart with Elliot just in this way. Small things that at the time meant nothing, but they should have been seen as signs.
"Hey, there you are." Austin stands up.
I glance over at Dez to see if he'll answer, but obviously he isn't going to either.
"Sorry I'm late," I say.
"You're not late," Austin says, lowering his head.
I turn my cheek so his kiss lands on it. I have no idea why I do that.
His eyes sweep me in my short skirt and jacket and I know he has sex on his mind. He always does. Not that I don't, but I'm also starting to feel that maybe we're overly focused on it. That we need more balance. He didn't come over last night, but he did call me, and so we had sex— phone sex, but sex nonetheless.
"What? Does my breath smell?" he jokes, and pulls my chair out.
Feeling guilty for transferring my old feelings from Elliot onto him, I resolve to stop it. So when he leans down to place my napkin on my lap, I whisper, "You do smell— good enough to eat."
I'm full of mixed signals and even I know it. If it's driving me crazy, it must be driving him crazy. I should tell him— tell him how I feel so he knows. And then we can approach whatever is going on together.
I will tell him.
Soon.
"Hey Dez, I didn't know you were coming."
"Yeah, Austin and I have this thing to take care of this afternoon— hope you don't mind."
It could be my imagination, but I swear Austin just kicked him under the table.
"No, not at all," I say.
Thing.
What thing?
Austin squeezes my hand and leans over to kiss me again.
Dez sits there with his notebook in front of him and an amused look on his face.
Austin rolls his eyes. "What?"
"You're different when you have a girlfriend."
Austin shrugs, or maybe flinches, I'm not sure. "No, I'm not."
Dez opens his notebook and jots something down, then looks up. "You are. It's good, man, though. It's all good. In fact, I'm using you both as my muses for my screenplay."
"Whatever, dude," Austin comments.
Dez shrugs and then waves the waiter over and points to the menu. "Three to start."
"I'll get those right away, sir," the waiter answers.
"Wheatgrass shots," says Austin. "What kind of restaurant is this, anyway?"
My gag reflex kicks in. No way am I drinking one of those. "Raw food," I answer, turning around and pointing to the sign under the name. "You picked it, so I assumed you liked it."
He shakes his head no. "Dez suggested it."
I feel a little more deflated. This was our lunch date and he let someone else pick the spot.
Stop it, Ally. It's no big deal.
Austin opens his menu. "Kale chips, sunchokes, seawitch? Are you kidding me? What kind of food is this?"
Ignoring him, I look at my own menu. "I haven't eaten here. What's good?" I ask Dez.
Austin bursts out laughing. "Let's just say whatever you order, you'll want an early dinner."
I glare at him again.
He tosses me a questioning look as if he doesn't know why I've reacted that way. Especially since he knows I talk about Trish and her food choices all the time. Again, I don't know why I reacted that way either.
"Speaking of dinner," I say. "I was thinking we could try to cook something together, like we've talked about."
"I can't, Ally, I'm sorry," he says, "but I don't think I'll be back before nine tonight."
"Oh, right," I say, "you and Dez have a thing."
Dez looks uncomfortable.
I don't want him to be, so I smile and make like all is good. Like I used to do with Elliot.
Conversation during our meal is mostly about my songwriting. I feel like I'm doing most of the talking. Austin seems preoccupied. Even with Dez here, it feels strained and once we've finished eating, I feel a little impatient to leave and I stand up.
"Where are you going?" Austin asks me.
"I have to get back to work."
"I'll walk back with you."
"I have some stops to make. I'll catch up with you later," I tell him.
I don't have stops.
I want him to insist he walk me. Lame, I know. I want to feel like he's putting me first. Lame again, I know.
"Okay." He lowers his head to kiss me.
Again I turn my cheek.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he whispers.
"Nothing. I just have a lot to do. See you, Dez," I say, and turn and walk away. Tears leak from my eyes and I can't stop them.
Okay, late PMS must be so much worse than normal PMS.
Right?
Don't answer that.
It has to be.
Austin
I'm on the fence.
Worried as fuck to pull the trigger.
Punching numbers, plugging in costs, estimating marketing, determining profits. It all seems like such a crapshoot.
When my cell rings, I don't even look to see who it is when I answer it. "Hello."
"Austin, it's your father."
I freeze.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.
I should have looked at my screen.
I shouldn't have answered.
He clears his throat. "I'm calling because that money I transferred to you more than two months ago is still sitting untouched in the holding account."
Fighting back my fury, I slam my laptop down. "And..."
"And, as a businessman, you know leaving that much money in a non–interest-bearing account isn't good business. I'd like to send you a list of companies you might consider investing in."
Clenching my fists, I fight back the urge to say, "Fuck you," and instead keep quiet.
"Austin, are you there?"
"Yeah, I'm here."
"Listen, son, I know you're angry at me and you have every right to be. What I did was wrong, but don't waste your life because of it. It's time you stand up and become a man."
The fact that he is right only irks the living shit out of me. When Ally and I thought she might be pregnant, it wasn't having a child that worried me; it was how the fuck I was going to be able to take care of one. Take care of both Ally and our child. That's what terrified me. I need to get a real job.
He goes on. "I know Brandon didn't have what it took to make it in this business—"
Anger swoops through me, and I cut him off. "Don't you dare mention his name, not like that. Everything Brandon did, he did to make you proud, and because it was never good enough for you, he needed an alternate reality. He shot needles in his veins to forget who he was, to forget that he was your son. You might not have handed him that last needle, but you were the reason he used it. So you don't get to talk about him."
The line goes dead and I know I pushed him too far this time.
Good.
It had to be said.
Minutes pass and regret settles in.
I don't really believe that.
Not anymore.
I've come to accept that Brandon's fate was his own, and the life he lost was his own to lose. It doesn't mean I won't miss him. Or that I don't love him. Because I do. It just means I know there is no one to blame.
Fury rips through me at what I did. I punch the wall. I shouldn't have said that to my father. No matter how much I hate him, I shouldn't have said that.
Finding a bottle of whiskey, I pour a drink, then another, and another, too.
Shoving it aside, I lay my head down and close my eyes.
Fuck my life.
When the door opens, I barely hear it.
"Austin?" Ally calls from the living room.
With my head still down on the kitchen table, I slowly lift it. I have no idea how long I have been sleeping, but the pool of drool below me tells me quite a while. When she appears in the doorway, I try to make it seem like I'm fine. "Hey." My words are only slightly slurred.
She comes rushing forward with some rather large file folders and her date book, which is never far from her side. "I'm so glad you're home. I need some help. I can't decide what to do." Her voice is frantic and her words come so fast, I can barely comprehend them.
I rub a hand down my face. "Slow down. What are you talking about?"
Sitting next to me, she starts going through the items she just set on the table. "The song orders!" she snaps, like I'm a mind reader and should have known.
Slow at the draw, I ask, "What about them?"
Her face creases and little lines of anger appear on her forehead.
I consider reaching over and smoothing them with my finger.
"Austin," she says loudly.
No, I don't think she'd like that.
Those lines have rearranged themselves around her mouth now because she's pursing her lips. "How could you forget? We talked about all of this yesterday at lunch."
I cock my head to the side. "How about you remind me?"
Fuck me, but with the state of mind I'm in, I can't remember my own name right now.
Not giving me an inch, she huffs a frustrated sigh. "I have to decide what kind of people I'm giving my songs to."
Oh yeah, now I remember. The thing is, my head was already pounding and now it's spinning with her issues and my issues all mixing together. "Ally, I already told you the first rule of business is never turn away business."
She starts rattling on about the same things we discussed yesterday. Blah blah blah.
I push my fingers through my too long hair.
Shit, I need a haircut.
Blah, blah, blah. How long it takes to make each song.
I already know all of this. "Ally," I interrupt. "Just tell me a fucking date, and then I can help you decide the best action."
Those beautiful hazel eyes narrow at me. I've seen it before, and trust me, there is no calm before the storm. "Why are you acting like such an asshole?"
That's it. I've been patient, but we've done this dance before. "Why are you acting like such a bitch?"
Ally stomps to her feet.
Fuck, I regret it the minute it comes out.
Hurt is in her eyes and red is painting her face. "Go to hell."
Her words stun me. "Ally!" I shout, jumping to my feet. "I'm sorry, but I have my own shit to deal with right now."
She grabs her things and turns away, toward the window. Bars of afternoon sunlight streak her body. "Then don't let me bother you."
I grab her upper arms. "Stop acting like this."
"Let go of me!" she screams.
"I will when you cut the shit. Just leave all that stuff and I'll look through it later. I just can't do it right now."
She shrugs out of my hold. "Forget I even asked. I'm not an idiot. I was looking for advice, not for you to swoop in and take over."
"Take over? What the fuck are you even talking about?" I yell, grabbing the folders from her. "Just let me see your projections."
In her attempt to yank the pile of folders away from me, somehow it ends up slipping from our grasps and smashing to the ground, and a whirlwind of papers cascades around us.
Ally stares at the mess.
I reach for her again, and again she shrugs away from me. "Ally," I whisper.
Entirely out of sorts, she raises her gaze to look me right in the eyes and grits her teeth. "Forget it, Austin. I don't want your help anymore."
I punch my fist into the wall and I consider pounding my head against it. "Ally, that's enough. I told you I have some shit to deal with. Cut me a break here."
Bending down to pick up her things from the floor, she looks up at me. "I can't go through this again."
"Go through what?"
"What I did with Elliot. This is him all over again."
"What do you mean, him?"
"The forgetting, the being too busy, the everything. It's Elliot all over again."
"No, it's not. You don't understand, Ally, I'm trying to figure something out."
She raises her chin. "I do understand. And you know what, Austin? When you figure it out, why don't you come find me. Until then, I don't think we should see each other anymore."
I want to explain. I should explain. I don't. "Son of a fucking bitch, will you sit down and talk about this with me?"
High color rises in her cheeks. "There's nothing more to say, Austin. I meant what I said. I'll see you around."
"Ally, I'm sorry," I say again as she heads for the door.
She ignores me.
"I'm sorry," I repeat, over and over, but she's already out the door.
What the fuck just happened?