Prologue #6
There was no way to tell Chemistry that he was missed. Not on occasion, but every day. All day. Phone calls weren’t enough. They no longer sufficed.
“I don’t have anything to tell you that you don’t already know.”
“So you throw a fit?” He chuckled.
“Not my intention,” I admitted. “I just– I wish things were different.”
“They’re not, Range. Maybe one day, but right now this is our reality.”
“What’s next?” I pushed out.
I understood where we were in our journey. That didn’t make me hate it any less. I wanted us together again. As a family. Everyone. Even Richie, but he was no longer here with us.
“Range–”
“I know you, Teddy. You’re here because there’s something next. What is it?”
“You’ll know next Friday. Visitation information will be handled. I need you to clean up nicely.”
“Legal?”
“The works.”
I nodded as I exhaled, releasing a heavy breath. I reached the red light just as my anxiety started to peak. Closing my eyes briefly, I massaged my temple.
“Give me the na–”
My request was cut short by the slamming of my car door. Teddy completely disregarded the soft shut mechanism at play. His dramatics were gutting. I flinched, unable to turn away from the steering wheel. Seeing him leave was as painful as his appearance.
My nostrils widened with emotion. I gnawed on my bottom lip and pressed the gas pedal, resuming the motion of my car.
Asshole.
Though my sisters often forced me to recant, most times I truly believed there wasn’t a human on earth I loved more than Chemistry Childers.
The love I harbored for my brother, mentor, and friend was unconditional.
And, it could be because he had conditions.
Morals. Beliefs. Standards. Core values that would never force me to love him any less.
He was the glue that held our family together, even when we wanted to fall apart. He was a reminder that feelings weren’t forever. He remained poised through everything. Through all things.
His scent lingered, comforting the aches of his absence. I continued down the road, hoping his aroma never settled. But, as if that small request was too much to ask, the potency of nature’s garden seeped through my vents and washed away nearly every trace of Teddy.
Another light caught me. I unbuckled my seatbelt and elongated my body, stretching my right hand behind me. I felt around the seat until my fingers grazed the small, almost unnoticeable glass bottle.
He hadn’t forgotten.
He never forgot.
My position on the spectrum never slipped his mind. Not since my diagnosis. Not since his initial denial. And, not since his eventual acceptance.
I spritzed the cologne from the 10ml bottle. Once again, his scent filled the air, helping me collect my thoughts. Gather my emotions. Find my way again.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
I was home in what felt like the blink of an eye.
My shoes slid off with ease. I lowered my feet into the slippers next to the door.
In the console near the garage entry, I opened the drawer and placed Chemistry’s cologne next to the graveyard of samples he’d given me since I learned of my condition at the late age of twenty.
They were organized by the day of his visit.
Three numbers were taped to each bottle.
No details. No names. Just numbers. But I knew what each of them meant.
I peered at the second drawer. My heart wouldn’t allow me to open it. Richie’s aroma was too heavy to bear. That was a load I was still trying my hardest not to let break me down.
Gym.
I forced myself to find comfort. My deflection was where my love for the gym began. My weirdly wired brain was where my love for the gym blossomed.
I shed my clothes one piece at a time as I entered my bedroom, but didn’t allow any of them to touch the floor. Instead, I folded them neatly and stacked them in the laundry basket that would be emptied at the end of the week.
Friday.
At 8p, exactly.
At 9p, my color-treated threads would be in the dryer.
By 10p, they’d be hung back in their rightful places in my closet.
I pulled the caramel cropped top over my head.
The matching pants were resistant, but eventually rested against my legs, waist, and part of my stomach.
My reflection was rewarding. The pride was evident in my eyes.
In my posture. In my chest. Cleaning calmed parts of me that nothing and no one could touch.
It balanced me. I was looking forward to the next mess.
Good work, kid. Good work.
Click.
Clack.
Our feet collided with the floor. Each step was in sync. The back of my hand was pressed against Kason’s mouth.
Muah.
Muah.
Slowly, carefully, he kissed my skin. Fine bumps rose as a result. The cozy nook of the chophouse was where we ended our strides.
“How is this?” The hostess asked.
“Perfect,” Kason confirmed.
“Great, enjoy your night. Your server, Asia, will be here soon.”
“Thank you.”
Kason’s words sent her on her way.
“You first, my love.”
He released my hand and ushered me into the booth. Though there were two chairs in front of us, neither of us was interested in taking them. Comfort and closeness were the objectives tonight. And, every other night I happened to spend with Kason.
Our time was limited, but it was never wasted. Life was stretching us in different directions most days. Yet, his presence was undeniable when in the same room.
“Comfortable?” He asked, unbuttoning his suit jacket.
I nodded with a sigh. “Yes.”
My eyes wandered around the dimly lit restaurant. Corner seating was my preference. With my back against the wall, I could focus on what was in front of me instead of looking over my shoulder so often.
One.
Two.
Three.
And, the kitchen.
One scan and I’d located the exits near and far, from the one we’d entered and the one that wasn’t visible to the public but accessible by management and the kitchen staff.
The ambiance was infectious. Warmth trailed my skin, leading the path Kason’s fingertips were on. I pulled the skin of my bottom lip between my teeth and peered at the handsome fella to the right of me.
“Hi.”
“Hi.” He chuckled.
My smile deepened as he closed the two-inch gap that was keeping us apart. His threads were against mine. His hand rested on my thigh. I cozied up against him, mentally speeding through our date just to end up in his bed. Because we both understood where this night was headed.
“Good evening, Mr. What is his last name?”
“Good evening, Ms. Childers. How was your day?”
Shrugging, I slid my tongue across my teeth.
“Uneventful.”
Sharing the details of my day often felt pointless, redundant, and unnecessary. The details wouldn’t benefit our conversation. Not at the moment.
“One second–” Kason demanded, sliding back slightly. His hand was still pressed against my raised skin.
“What is it?”
He shook his head, lowering it as he did so.
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he whispered.
His free hand caressed my chin. His eyes dared mine to tear away. He held my gaze with a slight smirk on that handsome face of his.
“Kaso–”
“You’re unbelievable, Range. Not a strand out of place. Everything is so– so perfect. It amazes me how well you put yourself together. And, how you’re never falling apart.”
I have. I’ve fallen apart. I’ve fallen into an abyss. I’ve fallen into two.
Richie. My breath heightened in my throat.
Teddy. I released it.
“How do you manage?”
“Time.”
“Time?”
“I don’t live life in a hurry. I reserve time for things and people who matter most and leave a little for those I didn’t know mattered at all.”
“Time.”
I nodded.
“Do I matter?”
“If you didn’t, I wouldn’t make time for you.”
“Fair enough.”
Silence twirled the ends of my hair strands.
“How much?”
“How much?” I questioned.
“Do I matter?”
“Good evening, Mr. Armstrong. Good evening, M–”
“Ms. Childers.”
“Ms. Childers. I’m Asia. I will be your server tonight. Can I get you started with our house water, or would you like sparkling?”
“House,” I responded. “And a blueberry mint martini.”
“Good choice,” Asia replied.
“I’ll have a glass of Hennessy. Neat.”
I clenched my walls together, attempting to dull the ache that followed his request. Tonight would be a grand time.
“Alright. Sounds good. Do we have any starters in mind?”
I folded my shoulders inward and pressed my back against the booth. The conversation between Asia and me had ended. Kason’s lead was imperative for this moment.
“We’re going to have a crab cake, four ounces. We’ll also have your crab rice. Lastly, charbroiled oysters.”
I gnawed on my jawline, observing every movement of his lips. They felt so good against mine, notably the second set; the ones suffocating between my knees.
“I’ll get that out to you soon. Anything else?”
“No.”
“Are we celebrating anything tonight?”
Kason’s head nod left me stumped. I wasn’t aware of a celebration or the cause.
“Great. What are we celebrating tonight?”
“The same thing I’m trying to celebrate for the rest of my life.” He chuckled, nervously, running his hands down the legs of his pants. “This beautiful piece of art next to me.”
My eyes rolled upward as a smile broke out on my face. A slight chuckle followed.
“Then, I guess we’re celebrating you, tonight, then.”
“Every night,” Kason corrected.
With a bright, unwavering smile, Asia nodded and headed toward the kitchen.
“Every night, huh?” I laughed. “You think your schedule will permit that? I’d hate for you to make promises you can’t commit to, Kason. We’re in great standing. We don’t have to complicate this just for the sake of it.”
“I’m not making promises I can’t commit to, Range.” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his head. “Commitment is exactly what I want. What I need. What we need.”
“Yeah?” I inquired.
He nodded.