Chapter 10
10
TWO HALVES OF THE WHOLE TRUTH
G ood ? What the hell did he mean by good ? Does he revel in the knowledge that I was basking in misery? Just as my mind starts wandering off, he closes the minuscule gap between us, causing my breath to catch in my throat at the proximity of him as if I wasn’t already affected by his touch.
He drops his hand from my face. “May I?” holding both hands open by my hips.
Was he asking for permission to touch me? My brain wants to scream wherever the hell you want but all I do is nod in approval.
Riley grips my hips to angle me so I’m in line with one of the targets about twelve feet away at the other end of the lane. He reaches over to grab one of the axes from the wooden beam and hands it to me. I can see the sharpness of the blade with how the overhead light gleams off of the tip. Having me hold the base of the handle with two hands like one would with a golf club, he explains how I need to bring the ax back directly over my head and when I am ready, to bring my arms forward and release the ax at eye level.
“Got it?’ he asks, wanting to confirm I feel comfortable enough to handle such a sharp object.
I nod.
“I need to hear you say it, Princess.”
“Yes.” I answer.
Riley steps six feet away, “Now I need you to feed into the anger, the frustration, and the annoyance as you draw the ax back, then I want you to breathe through it when you let it go,” he instructs.
I do as I’m told. When I bring the ax back behind my head, all I think about is the two weeks of research wasted, the imbecile who got the promotion I deserved because he was a man, and the idiotic manager that deserves a swift kick in the balls more than he ever deserved that managerial position.
I am fuming.
“Now breathe and release.”
I exhale a lungful of air as I lift my arms over my head and let go of the sharp instrument. The tip of the blade spearheads through the air in perfect circles until it hits two lines below the bullseye.
The sound of impact as the weapon makes contact with the wood makes me feel lighter somehow. I feel like my whole world shifts on its axis at the weightlessness on my chest. A weight I’ve been carrying with me for so long I didn’t even know existed until it was gone.
I turn to Riley, slack jawed, in shock, and I can tell he knows his little tactic worked.
“Thank you.” I whisper and let out another breath. It might as well have been said with a megaphone with the magnitude of emotion it carries. Riley dips his head in acknowledgment.
We throw and retrieve the axes in unison, parallel to each other. No wor ds exchanged, just unresolved and core-deep stress alleviated. We continue this restorative activity for the next hour until my chest rises and falls with quick pants. Once we feel like we can’t expel any more energy, we go to take a break at a nearby high table with two waters in hand.
“So, what are you feeling now?” Riley repeats the question he asked earlier.
I take a sip of the ice cold water, letting the liquid coat my dry throat before responding. “Um… lighter?”
I can’t explain how, but that’s exactly what I’m feeling. Is it a little murderous of me to feel like this after throwing axes at targets with conjured up images of Charles and Greg? Possibly, but I don’t care. I’m just so grateful to be feeling anything other than all consuming rage.
The two of us sit there for what feels like the duration of a day discussing what had happened at the office, the last two weeks of time-consuming research, and the waste it all was when I was ignored for the assignment I worked my ass off for. When I glance at my watch it shows that it’s almost one thirty in the afternoon. Rob’s place is due to open soon and I don’t particularly care to be surrounded by brewery goers with their cheerful moods.
“Wanna get out of here?” I ask the familiar question from earlier.
Riley gasps, one hand on his chest. “Why how mighty forward of you, Princess!” I laugh at his exaggeration. “Let’s say bye to Rob then we can grab a bite to eat if you’re hungry.”
We go in search of Rob for the next ten minutes. While yes, the warehouse turned brewery was a large establishment, I still find it odd that it’s taking this long to find one person in a near empty building. We’re finally able to locate him behind the bui lding through the employee exit doors unloading a delivery truck’s worth of kegs to attach to the taps up front. I expected to see a few employees, at the least, to help with this task, but it’s just Rob and the delivery driver working like a well-oiled machine.
One picks up a keg from the truck, hands it to the other, and the other places the keg down on the braked metal cart on the concrete. Interrupting their two-man assembly line, Riley clears his throat to gain his friend’s attention.
Rob skims the area near the back entrance, spots us from the truck and halts the heavy lifting. The delivery driver takes this opportunity for a water break while Rob walks over to say his goodbyes. “Thanks for everything man. We really appreciate it. And look! No accidents!” Riley waves his arm from the top of my head to my toes as if I am the prized shiny car to win on a family game show. He lets out a hearty laugh and hugs his friend in another brotherly embrace.
Rob turns to me, “I hope you had fun, come back any time.” He takes a step towards me and pulls me into a soft bear hug then steps back in line with Riley. “If you ever want to learn how to actually hit the bullseye, let me know and I’ll teach you the correct way.” I giggle at his offer. I can’t help but notice how much of a gentle giant Rob is. Behind the tattoos, the beard, and the long hair, he seems to be such a teddy bear. Although, not something I will say to him in fear that it might emasculate him.
We both extend our thanks before Riley and I leave to walk back towards his car. I suggest my favorite diner for a late lunch. The drive is near silent besides a few questions of whether any of my muscles are sore from the throwing. We arrive at the diner and Riley quickly finds a parallel parking spot a few feet away from the front door. When we walk in, Valerie notices me immediately and in the same glance she shifts her eyes to Riley, most likely noticing the fact that he’s not Sam and a male.
“Hey sweetheart, take the usual booth and I’ll be over there in a minute,” tilting her head towards the booth in the corner. When Riley offers his thanks and turns towards the booth, Valerie gives me a quick wink showcasing her approval of my unexpected companion. I shake my head and mouth not what you think .
Valerie gives me a suspicious eye and pursed lips as if to tease me with an mmhm, sure without actually coming out and saying it.
I trail after Riley to the booth and slide in on opposite sides. We peruse the menu like I order anything other than the same dish every time I come here. When Valerie arrives at the table, Riley orders a turkey sandwich on whole wheat bread with no mayo and a glass of water.
I shouldn’t be surprised that’s what he would order since, from what I can tell, Riley’s body looked like it was sculpted to resemble a Greecian God statue. And that kind of body doesn’t come from ordering anything but healthy meals.
“The usual Amy dear?” Valerie asks. Already knowing the answer.
I nod, “thanks Val.”
“Amy?” Riley inquires with a raised brow at the nickname.
“Amy is a nickname. Princess,” I hiss the word as if it were tainted with venom, “is a pet name, very different. Plus, not everyone calls me that. My friend Sam was the only other person to call me that other than my father because she’s heard him call me that since we were young; our friend Lauren calls me Amy because Sam does, and Valerie calls me it because I’ m only ever here with Sam or Lauren and the name just kinda stuck.”
“What I’m hearing is, you don’t mind nicknames as long as you control the context and the situation,” he teases.
“That’s only partly true,” I laugh. “Ok fine, yes, completely true,” I admit begrudgingly. Riley lifts his chin in triumphant victory. “So,” I say, in an attempt to change the subject off of me, “tell me about Rob. He doesn’t peg me as a hoity-toity lawyer type.”
“You wound me, Princess,” Riley’s hand shoots to his chest, covering a fictitious bullet wound to the heart.
“You know what I mean; the man bun, tattoos, caveman beard, just not the typical man you’d see on the opposite side of a courtroom.” I eye him up and down, insinuating he looks like the polar opposite of the man in front of me.
Riley begins to explain how when he first met Rob, he used to have the classic taper haircut, no beard, and tattoos coverable with a dress shirt, exactly how I would picture most lawyers to look. He continues to explain how Rob always felt like he wasn’t where he belonged when they were in school together.
“He could never explain it really, he just felt like he was suffocating, so he finally dropped out when he couldn’t do it anymore. His family didn’t love that he was throwing everything away on what they thought was a whim, so they cut him off out of spite. When they did that, he started bar-backing at the age of twenty-two to make ends meet. The owner of the bar he worked at, took him in and immediately treated him as the son he never had. The owner passed away from cancer six years after Rob started working there and left the small bar to him in his will,” he went on to explain how his friend successfully kept the bar open and thriving for another three years before selling and opening the brewery that we had just come from.
I sit quietly while Riley describes his friend’s life, it resembles so much of my life. My father had a plan for me and I had wanted to make a plan of my own. I wasn’t out opening breweries but I was still creating a life composed of self made choices. I wonder if I’ll ever be just as happy as Rob seemed today. He answers to himself and only himself. That’s what I want, isn’t it? Or did I just trade answering to my father’s demands for Charles’? My thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of our lunch.
Valerie makes quick work of placing our meals down and asking if we need anything else. Riley offers his thanks and looks down to grab his silverware when she gives me a slight wink before walking away. Too fast for me to, again , remind her that it is not what she thinks.
I will need to set the record straight later with the blue-eyed winking waitress before she mentions any of this to Sam or Lauren. The last thing I need is my two friends hounding her for details about something that is this innocent. As if Sam’s ears were tingling from the thought of her, my phone vibrates the table with a text notification.
Sam
I have someone I want you to meet! He’s 29, owns his own construction company, no kids, never been married, and super hot!
Feeling annoyed at my friend’s attempt at another date that will eventually end in a wasted evening and the fact that I’m being rude using my phone while sitting with Riley, I apologize and place my phone face down on the table.
He’s oddly keen on my moods because my phone is barely flat before he asks, “Is everything alright?”
I sigh, debating on whether I want to divulge my friend’s efforts on setting me up again but figured why not? He was there for the last one so he understands how much I hate the idea of another blind date. “I’m fine, that was just Sam,” glancing at my phone like Sam’s face will magically appear at the mention of her name, “she has found, yet another, potential candidate for me to run off into the sunset with.” I stab at my Caesar Salad with my fork in frustration just thinking about the archaic tradition.
Riley’s brow quirks upwards. “Here's a thought.” He pauses until I look up. “How about you just say no?”
I scoff. “One does not say no to Samantha Voss. Plus, I know she just wants me to be happy, unfortunately for me, she’s fooled into thinking a man will do that. And when she gets an idea in her head, there’s very little in this world that can convince her otherwise.”
“I have a hard time understanding you.”
“Care to elaborate?” I question.
“You present yourself as someone so confident and sure of what she wants, yet there are moments that you let seep through that others seem to take advantage of because you aren’t always willing to say no. You’re a conundrum, Amelia. So,” he pauses again briefly, “who are you, really ?”
I don’t like that question. I’m having an even harder time answering the question, because the two sides of me that he’s talking about are two halves of the whole truth. They’re both me I guess. A woman torn between a world of her own making and a world where the deep-rooted need to please those around her still exists.
I wanted so very much to only be ruled by my own choices, but can I ever really get rid of the part that was so inherently ingrained in me as a woman to be a people pleaser? I’d rebel one minute by choosing a career outside of Thatcher Inc. b ut then would continuously say yes to these god-awful dates Sam insists on.
Riley’s right.
I am a conundrum.
“I don’t know,” I reply, lacking the confidence to even respond with my head held high. It’s the only answer I can offer because I truly don’t know. Great . Now I’m questioning whether I spend time making decisions based on rebelling out of spite or saying yes to avoid confrontation.
Riley looks at me, no judgment in his expression, just plain curiosity. “What do you want then?”
“That’s a loaded question.” I retort.
Riley leans back in his seat with an almost care free slouch. “Humor me, if you could describe the perfect life what would it be? This isn’t about a dream job or dream vacation. Just plain ole everyday life. What sounds ideal to you?”
Hmm.
“I want to do whatever I want without having to worry about what other people want me to do. Even if I don’t know what that is because let’s be serious, I definitely don’t know what I want to do. I’m figuring it out as I go. I want to mess up and figure it out on my own, to not have to always be in control of every situation and be ok with feeling a little lost.”
“Then do that.”
I roll my eyes, like it’s so easy. “Women do not have the luxury of all-encompassing freedom as men do. From the moment we are born, we are placed in this world with expectations on what we can do and who we can be. Sure, we’re told when we are younger we can be whatever we want, but the older we get, the more our choices are slowly taken away from us because other people know better .”
“Is that why you like to be in control? Because you want to prove to the world that you can’t be told what to do?”
I shrug, “I guess so.”
I want to change the subject to anything other than my shortcomings and my faults. While taking another bite of my salad and interrupting his next bite I ask, “what about you?”
“What about me?” Riley says before taking the bite.
“What’s your story? I feel like I spent the last two times we’ve met divulging details about myself, details I would normally never share to anyone, and I feel like I don’t know much about you.”
It takes Riley a few moments to chew before answering. “Well, I’m thirty-three, thirty-four next month to the day. I was practically raised by my grandparents, born into a family of lawyers so I get the whole life plan from the time I was born thing. My grandfather opened his own law firm back in the thirties, Anderson & Anderson, he thought it was cute to give my grandmother a spot on the letterhead since he said if she wasn’t taking care of their home, there would be no firm.”
I stare in awe at the way his eyes light up talking about his grandparents in such a heartwarming way.
“I was sixteen when they passed away in a car accident. The firm went to my father and that’s where I work. I have one older brother who also works there. I never really got along with my parents or brother. Which is why I always stayed with my grandparents, but when given the chance to work at one of the top law firms in the city and get to be a part of my grandfather’s legacy, it was hard to say no. So, for now, I swallow my pride, walk into work every day, and wait until the opportunity presents itself for something else that would also make my grandparents proud but would allow me to be somewhere I enjoy.”
I feel my heart squeeze in my chest. He’s so honest with me, not something you find so often these days. Something still bugs me though, “is that why you were at the Garden this morning? To get away from your family?”
Riley hesitates before answering while taking the pad of his thumb to scratch the crease between his brow. “How much honesty do you want on this fine Thursday afternoon?”
“All of it.” I want to know everything about him. I’m greedy for every detail he’s willing to share.
He lets out a long exhale. “Well, remember that ex-girlfriend that decided she wanted someone else I told you about the first night?”
I nod.
“Turns out, that someone else just so happens to be my brother.”