Chapter Eight
Charles
“Congratulations.” I adjust my headphones in my ears as I speak to Arson. I'm truly happy for my friend. I can't imagine how exciting this must be for them.
“Thank you.”
“How long have you guys known?” I'm always curious when it comes to things like this, what couples decide and what makes them ready to tell friends and family.
“We've known for a little while. Both of our parents warned us not to tell anyone until after twelve weeks because some pregnancies are lost before then.” Arson sounds very matter of fact as he delivers this news and I’m quietly surprised.
“I've never heard that before.” I shift from one arm to the next, continuing my biceps curl exercise. My arm flexes under the weight of the dumbbell and Arson continues talking.
“Yeah, apparently back in our parents' day, no one said a damn thing until after twelve weeks because no one wanted to burden friends or loved ones with exciting news, then the disappointment of a loss.”
While I can see the point of what he’s saying, I'm also a little bothered by the logic. “Wouldn’t friends and family be the people you'd lean on in the event of a loss?” The thought of someone so excited to have a baby and losing that baby and not telling anyone really bothers me.
“You know, I didn't think about that. How fucked up is it that in our parents’ day you were expected to just bear the burden of loss and pain and sadness by yourself?” Arson lets out a heavy sigh, as if the weight of the world is on his shoulders.
“Exactly. Man, I'd hope you'd feel comfortable coming to me if something like that happened to you. Lean on me when the heavy shit happens; nobody should deal with that alone.” While I’m not a particularly sappy or sentimental individual, and I'm definitely not somebody who talks about emotions often with my friends, I'd like to think that if something truly terrible happened to me or them, that we'd all be able to lean on one another and confide in each other.
“Yeah, likewise. I didn't even realize how messed up that logic is.”
“It's never too late to break the generational curses of our parents and grandparents.” If nothing else, I'd like to think that this conversation will persuade him to teach his child to come to him and Laurel if something goes wrong in their lives and to seek out comfort and support when they need those things most.
“You're right.” Arson sounds grateful we’ve had this conversation as I replace the dumbbell on the hooks where it belongs. Working out of my home gym has almost become necessary, both to escape Alisha and escape the thoughts of what I want to do to her.
I came so close to kissing her last night that I’m not sure how I managed to keep myself from pulling her close and pressing my lips to hers. She’d looked so kissable and sweet, and I’d sensed she was disappointed when I didn’t kiss her.
“Anyway, we're throwing a celebration party and you are invited. It’s a plus one invitation, so bring whoever you'd like.” For a moment, Arson seems distracted, and I wonder what's going on until I hear Laurel’s voice in the background. They're a damn cute couple and I'm jealous of their happiness. I'm glad they are happy together, of course, but I wish that I could find love and companionship like they share in my own life.
“I appreciate the invitation and I'd be happy to go.” I'm racking my brain though trying to figure out who I can bring as a plus one. The first person that comes to mind is Alisha, but it would be highly inappropriate for me to ask her to go. Not that I give a damn about propriety.
The question is, would she say yes if I asked her?
“Oh, and I wanted to ask you if you know why Methew has such a hard on for you.” Arson speaks softly to Laurel in the background, as if giving me time to respond.
“I have no idea other than that a few years ago he tried to rope me into a bad investment opportunity and I turned him down.” I walk over to the parallel bars and get between them, putting both hands on the cold steel and lifting my weight. Crossing both ankles, I bend my knees and begin to do triceps dips.
“Oh, was that the big one? He lost millions in that scheme.” Arson sounds intrigued.
“The very same.” I can feel the intense burn deep in my arms as I continue to lift and lower my weight between the bars.
“Just so you know, he's been asking around at the club trying to find somebody that will beat you up or give you trouble. I caught him asking somebody to slash your tires.” Arson sounds almost amused, but I can tell from the hard edge of his voice that he’s furious.
I chuckle. “You think he’d know better than to ask at Club Red.” How stupid can one guy be? Asking at my friend's club for somebody to cause me trouble elevates him to a new level of profound stupidity I hadn’t thought possible before now.
“You’d think, but clearly not. Just watch your back.” Arson sounds concerned as I continue my workout, feeling the blazing white-hot pain tearing through my arms. “I told him to go home to his wife instead of trying to harass you.”
“I’ll watch my back, thanks.” I say with effort. “I bet he didn’t like you telling him to go home to his wife.” What the fuck is a married man doing at Club Red, anyway? It's one thing if somebody works there, but he doesn't, which means he's there for other reasons. I highly doubt the only reason he is there is to hire someone to fuck with me.
“No, he didn't like it one bit.” Arson chuckles.
I wish I could have been there to see his face when Arson said those words. And I have no idea why he's been after me so hard. Maybe he’s just pissed he lost millions to a bad investment, but didn't talk me into doing the same? Some people get pissed when they can't drag others down with them.
Still, the fact that he wants somebody to beat me up or wants to slash my tires leaves me more furious with him.
“I just need you to make sure you don't attack him on Club Red property, okay? I don't want to have to kick you out.” Arson's serious tone warns me of the gravity of the situation.
“I know, man. I'll do my best to behave myself.” I continue my workout even though my body feels stiff and unable to keep going. Though I’m enjoying our conversation, I know it’s about time to wrap up our talk. “I'll be at that party; thanks for the invite. And congratulations again.”
“Thanks, man. And good talk.”
With that, we both say our goodbyes and hang up the call. The line goes silent in my ear, but only for a moment before my music starts up again. I continue my workout, feeling my body overheating and the sweat rolling down my skin.
As I work out, I try to solve the puzzle of who to bring to the party. While I could go alone, I'd rather not. I'm not a fan of parties to begin with, and I don't want to show up alone. Still, I had already said that I'd be there, and I wouldn't dream of bailing on my friend.
Again, the only person that comes to mind is Alisha, but I can't imagine she'd go with me, and it seems rude - and wrong - to ask. She's my cook; she's going to feel obligated to say yes because she works for me and I’m her boss. To be completely honest with myself, I don't want her to go because she feels like she has to; I want her to go with me because she wants to go with me.
I keep punishing my body while searching for an answer, but none comes.
I can't stop watching Alisha as she moves around the kitchen. My mother stands near the cook, as if waiting to help with something, and I lean against the cabinets not far away.
“So tell me more about this man you met?” I cross my arms and watch my mother. I love her very much, but I can't help but feel like she's moving way too fast with this new man in her life. It’s not my place to say anything, but I'm genuinely concerned for her safety.
She lets out a sigh. “Harvey is a very nice man and I plan on taking him on vacation. We’re going to go on a week-long cruise.”
“Going with a near stranger on a cruise? That sounds like a great way to wind up on Dateline NBC.” I let out a slight snort and Alisha glances at me over her shoulder. I can't quite read her thoughts in the expression before she turns back to the food. I also can't help but wonder if we're annoying her by hanging out in the kitchen while she works. Both my mother and I offered to help her, but she didn’t have anything for us to do. So instead, my mother and I are just standing around talking.
“You're being silly. I'm a grown woman and I will be just fine.” My mother rolls her eyes at me, clearly tired of having this conversation, even though it's only the second time we've discussed her going on vacation with this guy.
“I don't know. What do you think, Alisha?” As I say the words, the cook’s spine straightens up, and she seems to hesitate for a moment.
Alisha turns to face me, her eyes filled with surprise as she glances at me, then at my mother, then turns back to the food she’s preparing.
“You don't need to bother dear Alisha about this. I'm not stupid or naive, and I'm not going to wind up murdered.” My mother sounds even more annoyed that I pulled the cook into this conversation. Still, I want somebody else's perspective.
“It’s okay, Beverly.” Alisha sounds thoughtful, as if she’s really putting effort into her reply, which I'm grateful for. The fact that she's actually willing to think about it and give a well-rounded answer makes me confident she’ll see my point of view and agree with me.
She seems to find a chance to take a break from working on food and turns to face both of us while leaning back against the counter. Her hands fidget with a damp washcloth, and she wipes her hands absentmindedly before tossing the cloth into the sink and walking over and turning on the water. She puts soap into her palm and begins to meticulously wash her hands, scrubbing with the zealousness and precision of a surgeon prepping for surgery. “Beverly is smart and capable, and I'm actually more afraid for Harvey if he does something stupid.”
My mother's eyes light up and she lets out a chuckle. I know for a fact that Alisha has just made my mother super happy with her accurate assessment.
I find myself almost agreeing with her, before remembering that we're at opposite ends of the argument. “You may have a point. So what's for dinner?”
She smiles. “I think you very well know what's for dinner.” With that, she turns back to the steaks that she's been watching.
“Well, I know about the steaks. I was curious about what you have cooking in the pot.” Whatever she's cooking, it smells absolutely delicious, as usual. I don't think she's made anything that I don't like at this point, and I'm excited for whatever's for dinner.
She lights up and I see her doing a slight dance with her shoulders. “Come look,” she says, gesturing with one hand as my mother moves in closer. She tilts the lid on the pot as I walk over and peek into the pot alongside my mother.
“This is my creamy snap peas with bacon and parmesan.”
As she speaks, I can't help but inhale the tantalizing scent of the food while she explains further. “Imagine an Alfredo except with no noodles; instead, it has snap peas and carrots, along with bacon and Parmesan. It's a really rich dish, but pairs beautifully with steak and a good red wine.”
My mother smiles at me. “I guess I know we're drinking tonight.” With that, she slips off to the wine cellar, and I find myself alone with Alisha for a moment.
“I don't think you should stress out about her meeting someone. Your mother has a backbone of steel, and I really do feel sorry for any guy that tries anything she's not interested in.” Her voice is low and serious as she watches the direction my mother walked off in.
“I know.” I don't want to get too personal with her, but after losing dad, one of my biggest fears is that I'll lose my mom too and be completely alone in this world. My mother drives me up the wall and maybe our relationship is a little bit unorthodox, but she's all I have left in this world as far as family and it would kill me to lose her before her time too.
“Just breathe. She's going to go have a good time and she'll be back before you know it.” She reaches out and pats me on the shoulder before turning back to food. “Everything here is ready.”
I slide the plates closer to her, ready to help dish up the food as she slices the rested steak. “I really appreciate everything you do.” I want to let her know that her opinion is valuable to me. “Maybe we should invite Harvey over for dinner one of these nights, you know, so we can meet him.”
She laughs. “I don't think your mother is the kind of woman that needs your approval of the man she's dating.”
Of course she's right. But that doesn't mean I like the truth. “That means it's going to be just you and me for a week.”
I notice that her hands go completely still and her whole body seems to freeze with that news. Deep down, I wonder if she is upset to have to spend that time alone with me. I know that I was a bit of a pill when she started here, but it seems like we're getting along much, much better these days.
“I'm sure it'll be fine.” Based on the inflection in her voice as she says the words, I have a feeling she's trying to convince herself more than just letting me know everything will be okay.