“How about you?” I ask, curious. “Any friends? Who do you hang with?”
He stares down at his plate. “Well, I’m new here so…”
“I know… yes, you’re new in Wicker Park. What about the rest of Chicago?”
“Well, I have some friends back in Nashville and a few guys in Chicago. I can introduce you sometime. Hey, we could even go to Nashville…” his words trail off, and he winces as if this conversation is giving him a headache.
I know I’m being nosy. I just want to get to know him better. Is that so wrong? It suddenly dawns on me that he doesn’t seem to care too much about getting to know me. Does that make him a narcissist? Or does he simply not care? Here I go again, thinking too much. Well, he does seem curious about my job and my friends, and genuinely interested. It’s actually refreshing not having to delve into my past.Where are you from? Where did you grow up? Who was your first love?I hate those questions, typical inquiries made by previous boyfriends.
I grew up in a trailer park in small town Michigan with an alcoholic father and two deadbeat brothers. My mother fell off a cliff . She was drunk. My first love died.
Yes, I much prefer it this way.
“So what do you want to do today?” he asks. Noah is always up for something. He has so much energy, it’s exhausting.
“How about walking the neighborhood,” I suggest. “I know a little music shop where they sell vintage vinyl.”
His eyes grow wide. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
I laugh. “And maybe we could go to that little Thai place I like. Do you like Thai?”
He grins. “I like it all.”
I smile. “I know you do.”
* * *
I ran and ran,boots trudging heavily in the snow, tears frozen to my cheeks. When I finally got to Izzie’s at around ten o’clock, Adele welcomed me with opened arms, as she always did. The Reeds were just lounging in the living room, eating pretzels and flavored peanuts, playing a game of Clue, awaiting midnight, when Santa would show up. Little Abe was the most excited of them all, barely contained. Santa, in this case, was one of Izzie’s many uncles, a big chubby older man by the name of Gary.
“Are you excited about Santa?” I asked Abe. And just like that, I got lost in the sight of his sweet little smile, and forgot all about my dad. It was always like that at Izzie’s, another world, an escape, a family I wanted to belong to. Yes, Adele always said I was part of the family, but I really wasn’t. I wasn’t a Reed in blood. And gone were the days where I used to daydream of being adopted by Adele.
“Sometimes he’s late,” Abe explained, busy working on a Rubik’s cube. “I hate when he’s late. It’s so rude.”
I laughed. “I didn’t know Santa was so rude.”
To my surprise, he was making some good progress on the cube. I watched him intently as his little hands worked fast and furiously.
“Do you want a virgin Margarita, love?” Adele asked, compassion written all over her face. She wouldn’t ask me what was wrong… that would come later. First, she’d let me settle in and get comfortable.
“No, she wants a real one,” Izzie joked.
I laughed. “Yes… that would be great. Thanks.”
Adele made the best virgin drinks. She even put twisty straws and little paper umbrellas with Maraschino cherries. Everything Adele did was done with love and her own special touch. Izzie didn’t realize just how lucky she really was, always complaining about her annoying brothers, and too many rules. She’d always go on about how she couldn’t wait to get out of there and into the ‘real world’. What that was exactly, I’m not sure she knew.
“I want one too,” Abe broke in, his cube was complete, a block of alternating colors. I was impressed since I could only manage to finish one side.
Adele handed me a drink and they resumed their game. Izzie whispered in my ear, “I know all three.” We shared a secret smile, and she seemed confident. But Izzie was notorious for making wrong accusations. She would often list off the suspect, murder weapon and room enthusiastically, only to be let down when she realized she was wrong.
That night was no exception. She was wrong again, and proceeded to throw herself on the sofa and make a scene, as she often did. I stifled a laugh as the rest of her family chuckled unapologetically. She was always so funny. Finally, she bounced off the couch and grabbed me by the arm. “Let’s go, Abby. This game is so stupid.”
We retreated to her bedroom, and stretched out on her messy bed. “So what have you been up to? I called you earlier and your brother said you were out. And then I heard your dad shout, ‘Where the hell is she?’”
I hated lying to Izzie, but I knew it would break us if she were to find out the truth. Izzie didn’t like playing second fiddle. She despised it in fact. She always needed to be the star of the show. And if she had known that the beautiful Gavin Foster had taken a liking to me, while he couldn’t have cared less about her, she would have gone berserk. And if she’d known how I’d put him above her, she would have instantly given me the cold shoulder. The sad truth was that I not only needed her, I needed her family too.
“I… I went to the arcade. My dad was half drunk… you know, Christmas Eve and all.” That was my go-to excuse. It was plausible after all. A typical teenage girl would probably not be inclined to go for walks alone, or just hang at the arcade by herself. But I wasn’t typical… I was stuck in a toxic home. It made a lot of sense.
“Why didn’t you come here?”
