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Her eyes narrow at my confession. “Your girlfriend.”
I place another bite into her mouth so she can’t yell at me for the next part. “Yeah. And since your boss and my boss are married, it so happens news traveled, and now we have to go to dinner—which means we have to play the part.”
“What part is that exactly?” she asks, her mouth full of food.
“The one where you are head-over-heels in love with me, and I’m such a stallion, you can’t keep your hands off me.”
“They’re never going to believe it.”
“Why not?”
“It’s impossible to look at you that way. Even attempting it now, it’s like the same face someone would make when they’re constipated. Not believable.”
“Hmmm. . .” I offer her another bite. “Okay. How about you imagine the pleasure it would give you to stab my eyes out with this fork?”
Her eyes glimmer, and her lips curl into the sexiest smile. “Now, we’re talkin’.” She gazes at me, and I can’t deny it causes my chest to tighten. “Oh yeah, baby. Head over heels.” She moans. “Can’t contain myself. I’ll probably jump over the table.”
My chest rumbles. “Well, I hope you contain yourself. I’m up for a promotion next month and would prefer to have both eyes.”
Her eyes soften at my comment. “Ben, that’s great.”
“We’ll see if I get it. Mygirlfriendmay be the deciding factor.” I get up and reach for my work bag. “Speaking of, I thought said girlfriend would need this so she can call me during the day and tell me how much she misses me. Or that she’s staring at my knife collection, fantasizing where to stab me.” I hand her the phone I picked up on my way to work.
“You got me a phone?” she asks, stunned.
“Yeah. It probably doesn’t have an international plan, so just keep racking up the minutes on my landline.” She stares at the phone as if I just gave her the most precious gift. My phone vibrates on the table, and I flip it over to see my mom calling. “I’m sorry. I gotta take this. Miss me while I’m gone.”
“Yeah, it’s fine. I’m going to shower. I’ll think of you while I rub myself—I mean, scrub myself.”
I grin from ear to ear. “Now,thatis a beautiful image. Holler if you need more hands.” I get up, stepping outside on the balcony. “Hey, Mom.”
“He wanted you to play football, you know.”
I swipe my hand down my face. This again. Every year, as the anniversary approaches, she lays this guilt on me and makes me feel like I failed him. “I know he did, Mom.”
“He worked day and night to put you through college. And for what? For you to waste your life? He died so you could have a better life. He left me because—”
“He died doing his job. He took a risk, and it didn’t pan out—”
“Don’t you talk about him that way. You ungrateful brat. He’s probably rolling in his grave at your choices. Reckless choices,” she slurs. She’s drunk, but I’m not surprised. I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose. I’ve fought hard to let these insults roll off me. I’m not wasting my life. I’m making a difference and choosing to save lives. Just like he did. Not that she’ll ever see it that way.
“You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“I’m good at what I do. I wish you would see that.”
“You will never be him. You will never fill his shoes. He was an honorable man. He didn’t deserve to die. . .” Her sobs cut her rant short, and I’m thankful for it. These calls are hard. She won’t ever see me for who I’ve become. How much I’ve grown and succeeded. How hard I fought to get where I am. But she’ll always remind me that I’m not him. And she’s right.
“I know I won’t, Mom.”
Her cries gut me. The anguish in every sob rips at my heart. I wish I could turn back time. Bring him back and erase all this pain for her. But I can’t. She loved a man with all her heart and soul, and he’s gone. It’s a reminder of why I’ve refused to open up to anyone. The high is not worth the lows.
I look up through my sliding glass door at the hallway Makayla disappeared down. What the fuck am I doing? The shit that stirs inside my chest, the inexplicable feelings, the electricity that sparks between us—what if it’s all a sign of trouble? It feels right, but for how long? We’re not a normal couple trying to seek out a relationship. We’re both strong-headed and don't know how to back down. Or when. What if the only place we’re headed is disaster?
“Mom, I gotta go. You need some rest. I’ll be over in the morning to check on you. We can go to the cemetery.”
“I don’t want to see him at the cemetery. I want to see him here. In our home. Don’t come over. It only makes it worse.” She disconnects the call.
I may never understand the depth of her suffering. But she will never understand mine. I lost him too. And that pain doesn’t go away.
