Page 88 of Midlife Crisis

“That is cool. Friends are really important.” I think about my friends—the ones I used to have, the ones who never were true friends. Tommy comes to mind as the true kind. He’s trying to pick up with me as if we never left off. There’s a lot of water still drowning the bridge, but I can see him working to repair the damage. Even Gage, who I didn’t pay much attention to when they were punks and just getting their band started, has included me wholeheartedly into their fold. I miss the band. Then I reflect a moment—honestly, I don’t. I’m in a better place where I am, who I am, and with who I plan to spend my time with in the future. “Girlfriends can be awesome, too. When you’re ready, though.”

“Mom is your girlfriend, right? I mean, I see you kiss her, and she’s always watching you when you walk around a room. She smiles more, and she has those gooey eyes.” He rolls his eyes. “She wasn’t like that with my dad.”

My chest clenches. I don’t want him to think ill of his father, and it’s none of my business where Midge’s previous relationship stood. I mean, they’re divorced, so it’s over. Yet I’m a twinge happy I draw her eyes like he says and make her smile.

“She is my girlfriend, and I plan to keep her, despite what your brothers are saying. They’re misinformed. Do you know what that means?”

“I’m ten, not stupid.” He raises an eyebrow at me.

“Got it. Well, your mom and I had a misunderstanding, thanks to Ronin’s misunderstanding.” I pause. That isn’t exactly true. I saw her shut down after the other night in the back of my car. As I sit next to her son, I shouldn’t think of such things as her naked body underneath mine, christening the leather of my car with the scent of her. But I need to recall her expression—the confusion, the sadness, the miscommunication—between us. I interpreted one thing while she clearly meant another. There’s more misunderstanding than one at the moment. “I just need to talk to her.”

I’m hoping that’s all I need to do to convince her, but as the time passes, I’m beginning to wonder.

“What do those mean again?” He nods at my wrist.

“The leather symbolizes ‘weaving’ people together, like my old band, and the brown beads remind me it takes a team.” His brown-haired head nods slowly. “A team for support. For love.”

“You might need a team to win back Mom. Elston, Ronin and I have to do that sometimes. When she’s upset with one of us, we stick together to get each other out of trouble.” His head continues rocking, and to my surprise, an idea comes to me from this ten-year-old, who is not stupid at all. Not one bit.

37

Worth the wait

[Hank]

After two hours, I decide to quit looking like a stalker on their front stoop. I’m up to thirty-seven text messages and endless calls going unanswered. Liam looks bored sitting with me, and we’ve run out of shit to talk about. We cover baseball, girls some more, the bracelets a third time, and his brothers. Not his mom. Not his dad. I’m thankful for the company, but my ass numbs from the brick. I need to regroup, so I drive home, and to my surprise, a welcomed package sits on my front porch.

“Thank fuck,” I mutter as I exit the truck and rush up the walk. “Lady, I’ve been waiting for you at your house. Where you been?”

Her eyes hide behind large, round sunglasses. A shaky hand comes to the edge, adjusting the frame on her nose.

“I’ve been sitting here, waiting for you.” I chuckle in relief although the presence of humor remains missing between us. I fold down to sit next to her on the wooden steps, and she moves over. The movement makes a statement. She doesn’t want to be close to me. Her lip trembles as her eyes remain forward. Under the side frame, I see a tear forming, and I want to reach over and take it from her. No more tears because of me, Midge, my heart screams.

“I guess we’re quite a pair,” I say softly, bumping her shoulder with my bicep. If we’ve been waiting for each other at our respective houses, that says something positive about us, right? There’s still an us, right? I rub at my chest when she shifts away from me. Her eyes still forward, she speaks.

“I just want to hear it from you. Just tell it to me honestly.” Her fingers spread on her jeans and then ball into fists as if she needs to hold something. I reach for her hand and force her fingers between mine. Her head hangs, her eyes burning into our joined palms. I squeeze, warning her I’m not letting go.

“Ronin came to the crisis center. It was teen day, and we intake new kids. It’s one of my favorite days, like I told you.” She keeps still, but she’s listening. Step one complete. “Stephie snuck into the center. Remember her? She was at the party, when we met, and once again at the garage.” Her head swivels to mine, and I want her to remember our first meeting, the one in the bathroom, when she looked into my eyes and I wanted to take all her worries. Instead, I think I’ve given her more concern. That changes now.

“Anyway, Stephie overdosed.”

“Sweet cheese.” Her body shifts, and she squeezes my hand. I’m grateful for her knees leaning against my thigh suddenly. One more part of us connecting.

“When she came to Restored Dreams, she wanted drugs from me, but I swear on a stack of Bibles dripping in holy water, I do not do those things anymore.” My eyes focus on the lenses shielding hers, but it’s not enough. I need to see those pretty things even if they’re brimming with tears. I push the frame upward to rest on her head. She’s so fucking beautiful even though she’s been crying for too long.

“Ronin came into a meeting room when Stephie tugged at me. Being on drugs can increase the adrenaline, increase your strength. She grabbed me, and I stumbled. When Ronin walked in, it looked bad. I admit it was easy to misinterpret. He rushed out before I could explain, and when I went to follow him, Steph had passed out. We had to call an ambulance. I’ve been at the hospital most of the night.”

“Did she live?” Midge swallows as she asks.

“She did.” I pause for a moment, my hand growing sweaty as my heart races. I need to come clean. “She told me things about Kit. Whether true or not, they were nice to hear. Kit didn’t have many girlfriends. Other women were either jealous or wanted to take advantage of her. The groupies following the band weren’t really a threat, though. They didn’t want Kit’s fame; they only wanted the band.” Midge tugs at my hand, but I draw it to my thigh and place my other hand on hers. “My point is…I let Kit go a long time ago, but I think bits and pieces still haunted me. I don’t mean for them to do it. I haven’t really been with someone exclusively since Kit, so my ideas about relationships might be a little skewed. While I want to be loved, I have to give it fully in return. I understand that, and I want to give it all to you, little lady, because I feel you give so much to me. I’m an ass.” I chuckle, my forehead furrowing as I beg her to understand. “I see you looking at me, and I talk myself out of it meaning anything. I hold my breath, waiting for you to walk away.”

“But—”

“But you haven’t yet. Each time there’s an issue, you actually come to me, and it’s refreshing. You don’t run away, you run forward, and I want to catch you.” My lip curls. Fuck, I want so much more than just to catch her. I want to hold her forever.

“I can’t compete with a dead woman, Hank. I’m sorry. I want to be respectful, and I want to understand. I knew I wouldn’t be someone’s first, not at this age, not after already being married, but I can’t keep feeling like she’s between us.”

“I understand. I put her there, but you also have to know you are my first. I’ve never felt this way before. Never.”