“She did what she could to keep me fed. Anything she could. One night she made me hide in some bushes while she got into a guy’s car and told me not to move, no matter what.”
Silver lined his eyes and, when it finally fell, glistened like a crystal in the white light of the moon.
“Oh, Joe,” I whispered, feeling his pain as if it were my own.
“I could hear her screams,” he ground out. “And instead of helping her, I covered my ears. Instead of fighting for her, I–” The self-loathing drowning his voice shattered me. Joe inhaled deeply, gathered his composure and continued. “Instead of fighting for her, I closed my eyes and hid in the bushes until I heard tires screech. He left her there,” he paused, his swallow thick with regret. “I sat on the ground beside my mother and watched her die.”
I reached out for his arm, squeezing gently to convey every ounce of pain I felt on his behalf. It wasn’t nearly enough to appease my desire to comfort him. He didn’t move when I laced my arm through his or stiffen as I laid my head on his shoulder. Joe’s exhale was ragged, but the tension melted from his body as he leaned into the solidarity I offered.
I didn’t know what to say. Should I say it’ll be alright? That suffering is just a part of life? Do I offer insight to my own pain?
The bigger question however, was why did I feel the need to comfort him at all?
After a moment in the silence, he sniffled and asked, “Is this the part where I throw you over the railing?”
I noted his deflection and tucked it away in my ‘figure-Joe-out’ agenda. I was the queen of deflection, and it always had a reason.
And a price.
Everything was beginning to make sense. He saved me in the alley because he couldn’t save her. Insisted on taking care of me because he was too young to do it for her. My frozen heart sputtered to life, warming at the novelty standing beside me.
“I think,” I answered and summoned the light-hearted banter I knew he was asking for. “This is the part where you give me your chili dog so it doesn’t go to waste.”
Joe passed me the cold food with a warm smile that was beginning to steal my dead heart.
We finished the lap around the park and headed toward my apartment. Our conversation was easy, like we’d known each other our whole lives. We talked about our favorite movies, and how he thought Sixteen Candles was better than The Breakfast Club. I gave him shit about his poor life choices, promising to give him a proper education on the classics that had consumed my childhood.
When we stood on the front stoop of my building, Joe said, “I had fun tonight. An odd sort of fun, but fun.”
His charming smile crinkled his eyes at the corner and invited me to get lost in its warmth.
“You’ll only ever get an odd sort of fun with me, Joe.”
He peered at the first rays of dawn peeking over the skyline and sighed. “Maybe we can do it again some time, Ivy.”
Ivy.
The name sounded wrong on his lips, almost like it was an embarrassment that he only knew me as the stage persona I wore on the outside.
Did he deserve to know Dany?
“I’m sorry,” I said, making the most rash imaginable. “Ivy is furthermore unavailable.” Hurt flashed in his eyes. Before he could turn, though, I put my hand on his cheek and whispered, “You can see Dany again, though.”
Relief softened the deep lines on his forehead. “Dany.” He said my name as if tasting it for the first time. “I’d like to see you again, Dany.”
“Keep your eye on the sky, Batman. I just put batteries in my flashlight.” I winked and, without another word, stepped through the building door and closed it behind me.
That night before I crawled between the sheets, I picked up the necklace laying on my nightstand and, without hesitation, latched it around my neck.
Andrew’s sporty red Firebird ran like a dream down the road. My family’s modest income could never, so I soaked it all in. The hum beneath the seat, breeze rolling through my hair with the t-tops down, and the woodsy scent of Andrew’s Calvin Klein cologne quickly became the best part of my night.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“I know of a little get together going down tonight. If you’re down, that is.”
Nerves formed a lump in my throat and it must have shone like a neon sign that flashed ‘virgin’.
“Or I could take you home.” Andrew ran a hand through his tousled hair. The other gripped the top of the steering wheel in a sight that set my body tingling.
