“Nope. If I wuz you, I’d ask Paolo.” With narrowed gaze, I double dare him to pin that shit on me.
His brows raise. “He still owes me for a doll.”
I open my purse and write him a check, leaving me with a balance of two dollars and three cents. “Here you go.”
“Listen up, I found a nice man to take you to dinner tomor…”
“No. Uncle Vinny. No.” I shove a finger into his chest. “Toss me out of the apartment. I don’t care. I’ll live at the ‘Y’. Whatever. No more blind dates. I’m done.”
Turning on my heel I wait for him to have the last word, but he doesn’t even try. The best thing about being depressed is how you can say what you want, and no one calls you out.
However, the moment I get home, my sister drags me to the bathroom. “You stink. Shower.”
“Fine.” Whatever. At least I can go to bed, and she’ll stop bugging me.
When I get out, the attic stairs block my bedroom door and sitting on the top step, Mia, Sam, and Catrina stare down with slanted eyes, judging me.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. What-choo want now?” I cross my index fingers to ward off evil, but they don’t even flinch.
“You’re coming with us.”
“No. Leave me alone.” I assume the cat’s not included, otherwise, I might agree. Because she can’t talk, she’d be the best company.
Sitting on the floor, I cross my legs in a half-lotus position, and begin to chant. “Oammm…”
Maybe, they’ll take the hint. No such luck.
When my ass falls asleep and I can no longer feel my right foot, I give in. “Fine. But I’m not staying more than one drink.”
Chapter 29
Wheels
I still can’t believe Rose set us up, but the evidence is indisputable. The minute I left the bed and breakfast, Paolo showed up. Then, she flew with him to Illinois. “What I don’t understand is why he put her in the back of the truck.”
Suds and Hands sit with me, drinking beer, reminiscent of the night we rushed to the rescue, the start of my descent into hell. Now, I’ve hit rock bottom. Every night, I close my eyes and in my dreams, we make love. When I wake, the ache is worse than the day before. Was it all a lie? Did she not have any feelings for me? My chest aches and my fists tighten by my side. How did a guy like me let my guard down? I blame my prosthetic. It made me desperate for a woman’s touch. I will never let it happen again.
Knowing alcohol is not the answer, I nurse my one beer and eye the rest of the happy people in the bar. A gay couple holds hands in a booth in the back, smiling into each other’s eyes. A blond man with plenty of ink plays pool with a giggling girl. When she holds the stick backwards, he stands close, whispers in her ear, and shows her his moves.
Ob-la-di, ob-la da, life goes on, bra…For some reason, the Beatles song has been stuck in my head for days.
When the bartender comes close, Suds motions for another round and takes a deep breath, about to start one of his rambles.
“Don’t.” I shove a palm to his face. “Listen, I understand she’s your wife’s cousin, but Rose and I are done.”
“Just talk to her.” When he lowers my elbow, we arm wrestle, and he wins.
“Sorry.” My fucking chest aches as I swallow over the hard lump, stuck in my throat for days.
Even if she told the truth, the fact remains she kissed her ex and said she was just stringing me along. How’s a guy supposed to react to that?
God almighty.A sappy country singer croons from the speakers and losing my shit, I snap my fingers at Omar. “You mind playing something else?”
The song reminds me of my dad. A SEAL, he was gone for months at a time and even when he was home, his mind was elsewhere. Old memories, long forgotten, float to the surface. I recall my mom crying, wiping her eyes real fast, and blaming the onions.
Countless nights, she curled up on the couch and watched old movies with a box of tissues in her lap. An adult, I better understand her loneliness but can’t forgive her infidelity. She got what she wanted. A stay-at-home husband.
While I wallow in a pity party of one, Suds punches my arm and hands me his phone. “You’re a damn fool.”
