Stay or Go Page 2
“Heathens! Get off each other. You look like two pigs fighting in the mud. This is a business.” Anais’s voice pierced my skull, but I didn’t stop. Peter’s nails inadvertently scratched my skin as he pulled the ticket from my stomach. I gave up the fight and laid there huffing and puffing.
Peter raised onto his knees as he unfolded the paper. His eyes searched the prize trying to figure out the secret I was keeping from him.
“A plane ticket? Big deal.”
I murdered him with my eyes before raising up and snatching it from his hands. I flopped back down to the ground to catch my breath. My hair fanned out on either side of my face. It would be a nightmare to comb through later. I smoothed out the paper against my chest before refolding it. The ticket was hopelessly crumpled from our struggles.
“Why would you keep that a secret?” Peter ran his hands through his blond locks. The effort was futile. He still looked like a wild boar. He pulled on his shirt to straighten it, but the wrinkles we’d inflicted were there to stay.
“Because you’d make me go!” I straightened my own shirt and tucked my tank top back into my jeans. I sat up to retrieve my sneaker since it had come off in the scuffle.
“You don’t want to go?”
“Of course, I do, but come on. I’ve known Gray for two weeks. I can’t just run off with him.”
Peter watched me for a moment as I laid on the floor trying to catch my breath.
“We need reinforcements.” Peter stood up and walked away, leaving me alone with Anais.
“You two look a fool,” Anais said. She shook her head as she too walked away.
I went behind the bar and started to set up for the day. I let my anger at Peter finding the ticket come out in my movements. I was jerky as I filled sanitizer buckets with water, sloshing them over the sides and onto my jeans. I didn’t pay attention as I was slicing fruit for the day and cut my finger. I cursed under my breath and stuck the finger in my mouth. Even after cleaning it and applying a band-aid, it would burn all day as I picked up the lemon and lime slices.
In my haze of slamming things down and knocking things over, I didn’t notice that others had started to arrive for work. My mood must’ve kept everyone at bay. I didn’t try to alter it. Even I was allowed a bad day from time to time. I took a deep breath and tried to center myself.
The curse word I uttered when I cut myself didn’t compare to the string that flew through my head when I looked up to see the firing squad staring at me.
Chapter Three
10:40 A.M.
Peter, Anais, and my best friend, Jax, stood staring back at me. Jax had her arms crossed over her chest and was tapping her foot. She looked as peeved as I felt. My eyes trailed over to Anais. She blew on her nails and then buffed them against her dress. Boredom leached off her. Peter stood between them, a huge grin on his face, his arms around each of their shoulders.
“What is this?” I asked.
“So glad you asked.” Peter clapped his hands with eagerness. “Come with me, please.”
Peter formed it as a request, but the demand was clear.
“I have work to do. I’m not done setting up the bar for service.” I was, and he could clearly see that, but I held out for any delay.
“Jax will handle that.” Peter nodded to Jax and held his hand out for me. I hung my head and shuffled my feet as I followed him to the office. I prepared myself for some lecture on living life and taking chances. Peter always put pleasure above all else. He would see this trip as nothing more than an adventure while I could see the underlying strings. Gray had made it clear that he wanted a relationship. This wouldn’t be a vacation, it would be the start of a future.
Peter unlocked and opened the door to the office. He held out the desk chair and commanded me to sit. I did, but I did it slowly. The stubborn kid in me insisted on some semblance of control. Peter sighed and turned on the computer monitor. He patted my shoulder and whispered, “Good luck,” before leaving the office.
I stared at the screen wondering what I was supposed to do. I’d mentally prepared myself for a lecture while walking the plank to the office. Now that Peter’d left I was adrift. I took a deep breath and released it. I tried to be content and enjoy my time alone.
The computer screen changed, and a ringing blared from the speakers. An incoming call through Skype. I hit accept, and my sister’s face filled the screen. Peyton may have been my fraternal twin, but she was the night to my day. I wanted to run, she wanted to walk. I loved dresses, she loved t-shirts and jeans. I lived a life of excitement in the city, and she lived a quiet life in the country. She was also expecting her first child. Pregnancy seemed to suit her. She hadn’t suffered a moment of morning sickness and her skin glowed. With us being polar opposites, I knew pregnancy would literally kill me. I’d feel every pain and stretch and hate it. I’d vomit at the slightest smell. I’d gain two-hundred pounds and not be able to stand up on my own. Nobody would gush over how good I looked.
“Good morning,” I said. “Peter’s pulling out the big guns, I see.”
“You want to tell me what’s going on?” Peyton stared at the screen, meeting my eyes. I knew this trick. She was trying to see into my soul.
“Peter’s making way too much out of this. Gray asked me to go on a trip with him. Nothing more. Nothing less.” I almost believed my own lie.
“Gray is the fellow you brought to dinner the other night?” Peyton asked.
“Yes.”
“Good. I liked him. You should go.”
“I can’t just . . . go.” I threw my arms up in exasperation.
“Of course, you can.”
“No,” I said. Peyton rolled her eyes at me.
“Do you like him?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Did you stay up all night with him talking for hours? Actually talking?”
“Yes.”
“Would you continue to see him if he lived in Chicago?”
“Probably.” The word stuck in my throat. I cleared my throat to dislodge it. “What’s the big deal? It’s just a trip.”
“Then go. It’s just a trip!” A smile tugged at Peyton’s lips. She’d gotten to the heart of the matter and called me on my lie with my own words.
That rat.
I looked everywhere but at the screen and her. I took time to inspect my nails. I blew on them and buffed them against my shirt as I’d seen Anais do. I picked at a loose cuticle, finally biting it off when I couldn’t get it with my nails. I straightened my shirt and ran my hand down my stomach. I even pulled out my cell phone and checked for any text messages. None.
“I will wait you out,” Peyton said.
“What do you want me to say?” I asked, finally looking at the screen.
“I want you to admit the truth.”
“Fine. The trip would be nice, but it’s just not logical.”
“You’ve never been logical.” I met her eyes this time. She was hitting below the belt.
“Don’t,” I said.
“It’s true, and it’s time to face it.”
“Don’t.”
“You think Ben broke you. He didn’t. He just scared your instincts. Time to move on.”
“Peyton.” The tone of my voice should’ve been warning enough, but this was my twin. We pushed each other further than our other siblings would ever dream of doing. My warning went unheeded.
“It’s true. I’ve given you six months to work through this, and you haven’t. Time for some tough-love therapy.”
“I don’t like therapy.” Peyton ended my whining with one look. She was definitely prepared to be a mom.
“You gave your heart to Ben, and he left you. He left you, and you didn’t see it coming. Gray’s not like Ben.”
Ben didn’t just leave me. He moved everything out of our apartment. The doorman broke up with me for Ben. It was humiliating. I was homeless, jobless, and had to drop out of school. Yes, the break-up broke me. My life was shattered all the way around. Pet
er and Jax and Peyton picked me back up.
“You don’t even know Gray. I don’t even know Gray,” I said.
“Bull. Let’s try this. For six months you stuck your head in a hole and hid from life. You needed it, I’ll grant you that. But what happened last month?”
“I got my period?” Peyton graced me with another of her looks. “I don’t know where you are going with this.”
“You told me last month that you started praying that God would open your heart to a relationship. That He would stop you from going down a path of loneliness. Shortly after that, you met Gray.”
“He walked into the bar where I was working. That’s not a sign from God, it’s a sign he needed a drink,” I argued.
“Just listen. You spent the last two weeks together, seeing the sights, laughing, talking. Just hanging out. You told me Gray never even pressured you sexually.”
“I pressured him. He didn’t need to.” Nana nana boo boo. I ignored that it made me sound like a floozy. My mother would be so proud.
“Here’s my point. Gray has lifted the cloud that’s been hanging over you. The old Regan has emerged again. And, the old Regan once decided to go to Ireland and jumped on a plane five hours later.” I rolled my eyes at her this time. She ignored me and continued.
“You knew from the start that Gray was leaving after two weeks. Let me read a text from you just last night. I think I’m being selfish because I know Gray needs to leave, but I keep praying for him to stay. Sound familiar?”
“I was drinking wine when I sent that,” I said.
“Wine, for you, is truth serum.”
“So, what? There’s nothing wrong with wanting him to stay. I like him.”
“That’s my point, Regan. You prayed he would stay. God is giving you an opportunity to stay with Gray. It’s not what you expected but you should take it.”
“You sound crazy. What would Mom say?”
“I’ll handle Mom. Do you know the drowning man parable?”
“No, but I have a feeling I’m about to.” I shielded myself by crossing my arms.
“A man was in the ocean, and his boat capsized. He prayed for God to save him. A boat came along and tried to rescue him. The man sent them away saying ‘God will save me.’ A second boat came. Same thing. ‘God will save me.’ The third boat, same thing. The man drowned. In heaven, he asked God why He didn’t save him. God said, ‘I sent you three boats.’ Get it?”
“No. I would get into a boat if I were drowning.”
“Gray is your boat. You’ve asked twice.”
Chapter Four
11:02 A.M.
“Not now.” I put my arm out to halt the stampede of questions from Peter.
“I didn’t say anything.” Peter held his arms up with innocence, backing away a few steps.
I walked back to the bar. I needed movement and distraction. One lone patron had entered while I was in the office. He cradled a cold beer bottle in his hand. He leaned forward against the bar talking to Jax. Jax was bent at the waist resting her arms on the bar, her head tilted to the side as she listened to the customer’s story. Jax was always good at flirting while talking to people. I never had been. If a customer tried to flirt with me while working, my face always showed my disgust.
Except for Gray.
I snarled in response to my own thoughts. I looked up to find Peter staring at me. He raised one eyebrow at me. I contained the urge to flip him the bird. To stop myself, I picked up the bar rag and started twisting it in my hands.
The front door opened admitting a blast of cool air. Tom, one of our delivery guys, held it open while he maneuvered a hand truck dolly inside loaded with boxes of beer and liquor. I dropped the rag I’d been playing with and headed his way, thankful for the distraction.
“Good morning, Tom. What’s up?” I smiled for his benefit and mine. Supposedly, a smile released endorphins which should, in turn, lighten my mood. I didn’t feel any lighter. I still felt grumpy.
I unlocked the liquor storage room while Tom told me about his hot date last night. I nodded and added the occasional “uh huh” to show I was listening.
“. . . Anyway, so, we’re, uh, taking off. Today’s my last day delivering.”
“What?” I asked.
“Betsy and me. We’re done. With Chicago, I mean. We decided last night. We’re selling everything we can, packing up the rest and driving south until we find a place we like.”
“Isn’t that a little, um, uncertain? Where will you work? Where will you live?”
“That stuff always works itself out. Jobs are everywhere if you look.” Tom stopped unloading the dolly to mop his face with a cloth. Moving cases of beer was hard work.
“Did Peter put you up to this?” I asked.
“What does Peter have to do with me moving?”
“Nothing.” I shook my head and reached for the invoice Tom held out to me. I kept quiet while I checked the order for accuracy. I paid more attention today than normal since we’d been missing liquor. One explanation could be we were paying for something that was never delivered. I didn’t think Tom would short us on purpose, but mistakes did happen.
Everything looked good, so I wished Tom well and sent him on his way. I took my time in the liquor room straightening bottles and checking the back stock. I moved some things around looking to see if the bottles of Grey Goose were just misplaced. They weren’t.
I sat down on a case of beer, hiding from facing the nonsense going on outside the room. I was giving myself a moment to think about what Peyton had said to me.
Our parents raised us with parables and examples. Truthfully, I didn’t get most of them until I was older. Even now, I found a lot of them confusing. Why couldn’t they just say what they wanted us to do? Our parents rooted a deep spiritual belief in all of us. Even when I’d trailed off the path of what was expected of us, I’d said my nightly prayers. I closed my eyes now and asked God for guidance. It was something I hadn’t done in a while. It was something I should’ve been doing lately. I’d floundered since Ben left. I knew that, even without Peyton pointing it out.
Ben left a gaping hole in me. A hole I’d filled with work and friends, even a few dates. Right now, it was covered over with putty, but still fresh in many ways. It could be ripped open at a moment’s notice. The gaping wound bleeding and draining me, once again.
The trip with Gray scared me more than I was willing to admit because of that hole. I felt a connection with him. I had prayed for him to stay here. I didn’t know Peyton would throw it back in my face so soon, thank you very much.
Ugh, twins. There was no limit to our knowledge of one another.
I kicked my feet out and leaned back against the wall. Since I was alone, I could admit that the idea of the trip excited me. The thought of walking away and going wherever the wind blew gave me tingles that started in my toes.
What was really stopping me?
My job. My apartment. My responsibilities. My family.
Well, I guess I could take that off the list. Peyton made it clear she would handle Mom. One thing down. Dad would never be a problem. He spent his youth hitchhiking across America and Europe before joining a motorcycle club. I got my wanderlust from him whereas Peyton was a homebody like Mom. I thought about my stepdad’s reaction to me leaving. He’d probably just shake his head at my impulsive nature, but wouldn’t utter a word to hold me back.
It was a start. I didn’t admit to myself that I was knocking off the reasons, one by one, on why I should make the leap.
Chapter Five
11:36 A.M.
I opened the door to leave the liquor room and just as quickly shut it again when I saw the sign.
Trip-tervention was hastily painted on the back of an old bar banner. Someone—though I had an idea who—had hung it across the top of the bar. With Jax’s artistic talents and Peter’s savvy with a hammer, in a matter of minutes, the bar had been transformed.
I took a deep, calming breath and opened the do
or again. Peter stood on the other side.
“My lady?” Peter held out his arm. In defeat, I let him wrap my hand under his elbow. He guided me to the first table. Our table, really. We sat there eating lunch every day. We had drinks after work there. We hashed out plans and business ideas there. Now, it looked like we’d be hashing out my future there.
I sat down and faced them, my so-called friends. Jax and Anais also sat at the table. After I was seated, Peter took the last remaining chair.
“Okay, hit me. I don’t know how this works, but on TV, interventions always involve a lot of crying and sometimes some yelling.” I motioned with my hand to bring it on, trying to take control of the situation. “I could definitely yell.”
Peter started the proceedings. “Regan, this is a safe place. We are here today because we love you.” Peter rubbed my forearm as he spoke. I noticed the man at the bar turn in his chair, stealing glances at the spectacle before him.
“Did you get this speech from a television show?” I asked drolly.
“No, smarty. The internet.” Peter raised his hand in Jax’s direction. “Jax, why don’t you begin?”
Jax’s smile was full of mischief. I shook my head at her, warning her away from whatever was going to come out of her mouth. I needed at least one of them to be on my side. She was my safest bet.
“Regan, you are a zombie,” Jax said.
“That’s your best argument?” I asked, then added, “Why would you even want me to go?”
“I don’t want you to leave.”
“Then why are you here?” I pointed to the sign above the bar. “I know that’s your painting.”
“I don’t want you to leave, but you need to leave.”
“Why?’ I asked again.
“Because you are a zombie.”
“So, I’m dead, decaying, and craving human flesh.”
“You might as well be. What do you do?”
What do I do? That’s her argument?
“I do a lot of stuff.” My comeback sounded weak, even to my ears.