Page 86 of Midlife Crisis

I press up off the couch and spin to face Ronin. His eyes pinned on Steph. Her legs spread, revealing what I can only assume is something that should be covered. Ronin cringes.

“We do not,” I say, keeping my eyes on Ronin, pleading with him to back away and not misunderstand this situation.

“I’m just…I’ll just…” Ronin points over his shoulder to the hall, twists a little at the waist, and then bolts.

“Dammit,” I mutter, stepping forward to follow him when I hear a thump against the couch. I turn to find Steph has slipped to her side. Her eyes closed. Her mouth open. Her nose bleeding. Stepping back toward her, I instantly feel for a pulse. A memory so vivid, so alive it nearly blinds me strikes. Goddammit. Her skin feels cold, her vein weakly beating.

“Reggie,” I call out, seeking the supervisor. The second call I practically scream. Reaching for my phone, I dial 911 as Reg enters the sitting room. “Overdose.” I swallow, keeping my fingers on Stephie’s neck, my own body shivering at all the possibilities this could mean.

+ + +

Stephie’s been pumped, prepped, and set on an IV drip to clean her system. The road to recovery is going to be a lot longer than one night in the hospital, and I only hope she’ll get where she needs to go. I know the road went untraveled by me too many times before I had my wake-up call. Losing everything I physically owned. Losing the one thing I could never own. Nearly destroying a life.

“Kit was right. You’re a good man,” Stephie moans, her voice groggy as her head rolls on the pillow. She looks old—used and abused—and probably not even forty. The professional groupie life is a difficult path. Her hair lays limp and scraggly around her bony, thin face. Did I ever find her attractive? I shudder at the thought and think of Midge. I’m ignoring what Stephie says, disappearing in images of Midge. Her beautiful, thick brown hair, not a hint of gray but filled with highlights. I want to watch it change. I want to see her grow old. Her smaller size but ample curves, which she isn’t afraid to show off, at least in private with me. I think of the lavender lingerie she wore the other night under her raincoat. My girl has some gumption. The thought of her as mine reminds me I’m hoping I’m not too late.

“She really loved you,” Stephie adds, and my attention leaps back to her.

“Who?” I ask; although the sick feeling in my gut tells me I should know the answer.

“Kit, silly. She always talked about you. She said she could rely on you.”

I snort in response. “That’s not love.”

“We all knew you were fucking each other more exclusive than most of the boys.” I cringe again at the reference to the open sexuality of all of us back then. How meaningless it all was. Can I recall now why I thought it was fun? I pause, and Stephie continues.

“She was stupid not to marry you, always bragging that you asked, but playing it cool that she didn’t want marriage.” My stomach roils with bile at the thought of Kit belittling my proposals. “But she loved you, and she should have just done said yes.” Stephie’s eyes close. I should let her rest, but she’s riled me up and I need to speak.

“She never said she loved me,” I scoff, trying to blow off the suggestion like Kit so coldly dismissed my proposals.

“Sometimes you don’t need to say the words to have emotion be heard, Hanky. It’s right there before your eyes if you really want to listen.” I’m ready to scoff again, thinking this makes no sense, but the more I consider it, I wonder. Am I still not listening? Do I not hear the sweet sound before me in Midge? I want to hear her love. I want to be somebody’s someone. More, whispers through my head. At every turn, Midge has been telling me and showing me she’s willing to give me everything. I’m missing it with the shit deafening my head instead of fully opening my heart.

“It doesn’t matter now,” Stephie says, swallowing hard, her lips cracked and chapped. Her eyes still closed. Her head rolls away from me, and I think she’s fallen back into the blissful abyss the hospital offers until her system cleans itself enough to move on.

“The hell it doesn’t,” I mutter, speaking to myself. I’ve been alone for too long, probably most of my life even within the relationship with Kit. Love isn’t a one-sided album track. There always has to be a B-side to the A-side. Any drummer knows the rhythm works best with two sticks not one. I’m tired of being alone, so tired, and I have a willing person before me to share my life with me. What the fuck have I been waiting for?

+ + +

I’m eager to get to Midge’s house the next morning. I tried to call overnight but all messages went to voicemail. Even my text messages remain unanswered. I say there was an emergency. Then I panic and promise I can explain everything, worried Ronin told his mom what he saw, what he thought he saw.

“Don’t give up on me, little lady.” It’s the last message I leave with hope she will listen to me. My ears are open, as are my eyes and my heart, but heavy feet carry me up her front walk.

After ringing the bell, I hear shuffling behind the door. Muffled voices and a slight bang occurs before the door opens.

“What do you want?” Elston snaps, his brother Ronin behind him.

“I’d like to talk to your mother.” My arms cross, a defensive stature kicking in, but this punk ass gives it right back to me. He’s going to protect his mom, I can see it in his eyes, and I can’t fault him. Still, I need to see her.

“She isn’t here,” Ronin says behind his brother, arms crossed to match my stance. Not nearly as robust as his sibling, he still refuses to let me over the threshold like his brother.

“I’ll wait,” I demand, stepping forward when Elston holds up a hand.

“My mother doesn’t allow strangers in the house when she isn’t home.” His voice drips saccharine sweet and sarcastic.

“Good thing I’m not a fu…a stranger.” My eyes catch Liam in the background, and I curb my cursing. I don’t quite believe Elston’s statement nor do I like the implication I’m an outsider. For a second, I wonder if they’re covering for Midge, who hides inside the house, but then again, she would never send her sons for her. If there’s one thing I’ve learned, she’ll face me and want answers. I think back to the first time she confronted me when I perched her on my brother’s desk and ate her like the delicacy she is.

“You are now,” Ronin interjects, sheepishly.

“Ronin, what you saw…It wasn’t what you thought.”