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“It’s just that any time I do see him, it brings all of that pain back to the forefront.”
“I know…”
I cut my friend off, saying, “No, you have no fucking clue. I was lying in a hospital bed on my fucking stomach, my ass and leg pretty much open to the world when he came with my folks once they were notified. Isawthe revulsion on his face. He looked like he wanted to puke. Then to break it off like he did? Yeah, no. No one knows how I fucking feel about him, or the situation. I know he probably wants to apologize, but I don’t want to hear it, or see him.Ever.”
Bria reaches her hand over and squeezes mine hard. “I’m sorry, Sunday. I don’t know about the physical pain you’ve endured, although I suspect it was far worse than what you’ve shared. I do know, though, that not all men are like him.”
“Let’s just have a great time, okay? Don’t think I’ll be meeting my Mr. Forever tonight, anyhow.”
“You never know,” she says, suggestively wiggling her eyebrows.
“From your mouth to God’s ear.”
Jett
Sitting at a table that's in the back, hidden in the shadows, I’m sipping a beer when she walks in. Fuck, she just gets more gorgeous with each passing year.
No way she’ll wanna get involved with you, asshole, you’re a single dad, and a loser.
Shaking my head at my negative thoughts, I raise my hand for another beer. I can still watch, and maybe, just maybe, get a dance or two from her to store in my memory banks.
Sunday Cross was a breath of fresh air in high school. Her outgoing personality, and kindness toward others even when they were mean, was admirable. I grimace remembering how Stacey used to treat and mock her. God, what a fuck-up that was, staying involved with Stacey for all those years.
I should have broken it off with her, and gone after the woman who still consumes my thoughts, still to this day.
Only, I was young and dumb. Now, I have a child and am a single father trying to make it on my own. What woman would want to be involved with someone like me? My baggage alone from all the shit Stacey pulled is enough to have anyone running away, screaming in fear.
Face it, Jett, Stacey sucked you dry in more ways than one, then left you holding the bag.
Growling at my inner voice, who hasn’t shut up since I saw Sunday walk in, I down the rest of my beer. If I keep this shit up, I’ll need to get a sober ride home. Dusty deserves one parent who gives a fuck about him. I smile, thinking of my tow-headed little guy. At nearly eleven now, he’s sturdy, like I was at that age, according to my mom, and so curious about everything. Raising my hand, I catch my waitress’s attention and once she comes over, I ask for a glass of water for myself, then tell her to get whatever the two women are drinking, and put it on my tab, once I point out Sunday and Bria to her. Hopefully, it’ll start a conversation.
* * *
“Jett, thank you for the drinks,”Sunday shyly says, once she makes it over to my table.
“You’re welcome. Do you want a seat?” I ask. “It’s kind of crowded here tonight.”
She pulls out a chair, and sits down so we’re able to look at one another, which is good because that means I’ll be able to hear her when she says something.
“Right? Normally I’m not up for something like this, but Bria insisted, and you know she always gets what she wants.”
I can’t help it, I start laughing, because even though they were several grades lower than I was, in this small town, everyone knows everyone else, so Bria Chandler and her escapades are well-known.
“She forced you out, huh?” I ask in response.
“Yeah, she said no one remembered what I looked like, or some shit,” she teases. “Shit, I’m sorry I swore. Dammit, I did it again.”
My laughter erupts again, because now she’s got a very becoming blush staining her cheeks. “Sunday don’t apologize for swearing. Hell, Dusty’s first word wasnot‘dada’!”
Her laughter rolls through me, causing my heart to beat a little faster. I know from the newspaper articles that she was severely injured while deployed, and since she’s been home, her focus has been on getting better, so she hasn’t been out and about all that much.
“My vocabulary definitely increased significantly while I was in the military,” she confesses, grinning at me. “Not like I can be mistaken for a guy, but I was one of a handful of women in our unit, so I got used to it.”
“I hate you got hurt,” I convey. “That any of you were injured, to be honest.”
A look I can’t decipher crosses her face before she takes a deep breath and responds. “Thank God none of us were killed. I just wish we had seen the signs ahead of time.”
“From what I understand, it was your quick thinking that kept all of you from that fate.”
