5. Teeny
CHAPTER FIVE
Teeny
NOW
“This is so much better than playing in dirt,” I comment, leaning back in my beach chair with a deep sigh. “I think I’m going to be digging soil out of my nails for a week.”
Grace reaches for her plastic tumbler filled with ice and something of the wine variety. “You’re such a good daughter,” she says. “I would’ve hired someone to do all of that.”
“And waste money on something us adult children could do? Have you met my mom? I would never hear the end of it.”
Mina, whose ears perked up the second Sadie said “beach” back at my parent’s house, laughs from my other side. “I think she’d disown you.”
Sadie and her best friend, Lauren, frolic at the water’s edge, a mere fifty feet ahead of us. She’s tossing a tennis ball for Grace’s border collie as he barks and jumps to catch the ball midair. A bubble of laughter and amusement slips through my lips when Buster tackles Sadie to the ground and slathers her face with kisses.
I shift positions, stretching my back from the achiness of being slouched over weeds and tulip bulbs. And I’m pretty sure I experienced some level of a heat stroke after spending four hours in my mom’s backyard with gardening gloves on and a hand trowel gripped in my fingers. After an appreciative pat on my back and Sadie’s promise to be back next week to make good use of my parents’ pool, we left to spend the latter half of our day at the beach.
Mina stands from the spot on her large blanket and joins Sadie out in the water, Buster greeting her with giddy recognition for another friend joining the party.
“So, this ex-boyfriend of yours,” Grace throws nonchalantly after a moment of silence now that Mina’s out of ear shot. “What did he want to talk to you about?”
“I don’t know, and I honestly don’t care.” I gave her the Cliff Notes version of my encounter with Everett and his pleas to hear him out as soon as she arrived at the beach while we unloaded and Mina and the girls lathered themselves up with sunblock.
Grace’s small knowing smirk turns into a disapproving frown at my flippant remark. “But he’s going to be here for the wedding?”
“Looks like it.”
“Leo’s going to have a field day when he finds out.”
I shrug.
“You know, I think this is where I pass onto you some of my divorced woman wisdom,” she comments, throwing a cheeky smile in my direction. “Entertain it.”
“Entertain what?”
She flings a hand in my direction, clarifying nothing and making her words sound off handish. “The ex-boyfriend. See where it goes, and if it turns into a little summer fling…voilà!”
“What?” My head rears back at the absurdity of her suggestion.
“It could be fun.”
“And dangerous,” I tell her. “You don’t want me to get meddled up in that mess again.” She chuckles, laughing off the residual hurt from her own divorce last year after five years of marriage. “Is that what you did? Rekindle an old love?”
“Rekindle is a bit of a strong word,” she answers. “More like…recharge and release.”
I can’t help a small giggle, and it feels good. It feels freeing to be able to laugh a little at myself, at the heap of muck that is my love life, and the collision of my present and my past.
Grace looks at me over the curve of her sunglasses. “How messy was it?”
“An absolute massacre.”
Mina’s phone trills from her blanket, and when I peer down at it, I see Josh’s name flash on the screen.
“This is Teeny,” I announce into the phone as soon as I answer it. “Don’t say anything disgusting.”
“Where’s Mina?” he asks, dismissing my request.
“She’s with Sadie in the water.”
“I just got back home,” he says. “I thought she’d still be at Mom’s.”
I shake my head, though he can’t see me. “She came with me to the beach after we were done. You want to join us? I could use some chips.”
“And bean dip!” Grace adds.
“Yeah,” Josh answers. “Just send me a pin.”
“Snacks are on the way,” I tell Grace, tossing Mina’s phone back in its place as soon as I send him our location. Grace and I move in unison, perching our sunglasses on our noses and tilting our breezy smiles toward the sun. Flashes of light veiled in pink fill my vision through closed eyes, and I can feel the warmth coat my skin, my arms and legs getting the brunt of the hot UV rays.
A rhythmic wave of cool ocean breeze brushes past us, soothing our pink-tinged skin. The sounds of Sadie’s laughter and Buster’s elated yelps assure both me and Grace that our kids are within earshot and safe.
It isn’t until a shadow casts over me that I realize I’d been gradually dozing off into a lazy slumber, tired from the long day.
“Enjoying yourself?”
The warm tone, both teasing and harmless, stirs something familiar in me. Something that heightens my normally dormant fight-or-flight response.
“Everett!” I jolt from my lax state, hopping away from broad shoulders and the drifting scent of spice and outdoors.
“Hi, Teeny.” Everett’s eyes roam over my bikini-clad body. He takes his time, as if he’s committing everything to memory. Everything from my messy ponytail, all the way down to my polished toenails.
“Everett! What are you doing here?”
I fumble with my cover-up and haphazardly throw it on, suddenly feeling completely underdressed, even with the amount of exposed skin scattered throughout the beach by other patrons, Everett included. He’s wearing a pair of swim trunks I’ve seen on Josh multiple times, exposing all the way up past his knees to enough thigh exposure to have me looking away.
“He came with me.” Josh drops two large grocery bags on the soft sand, various packages of chips and what looks like a bottle of alcohol poking out the top. I cast a glare in his direction, though he can’t see through my shaded eyes.
From the distance, Sadie, Mina, Lauren, and Grace leisurely stroll toward us, Buster running circles around them. I hadn’t even noticed when Grace joined them, but it looks like they’re ready to take a break from their shivering bodies and enervated gait.
“That water is freezing!” Mina exclaims, reaching for a towel and wrapping it over her shoulders. She greets Josh, to which he wraps his arms around her to create some warmth and friction.
Grace approaches my side but her steps halt as soon as she takes in the scene in front of her. My tense shoulders with fists at my side and my voice caught in my throat. And this stranger of a man hovering over me with his height and authoritative aura.
“Uh, hi,” she says nervously. She turns to face Everett, her back angled in my direction as if to create a shield. Maybe it’s the instinctive female intuition of protecting any and all women from unwanted male attention. Or the fact that, among the growing group of familiar faces, Everett stands out like a very attractive sore thumb.
“I’m Everett.” He offers a hand in Grace’s direction at the same time Grace’s brow shoots up.
“Everett?” There are so many hidden meanings behind her voice and a perplexed guise of confusion twists his features. “Like, Everett Everett?”
He doesn’t answer but looks at me instead. The corner of his mouth tilts upward, but that quickly disappears when Grace takes his offered hand and aggressively shakes it. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“All lies, I assure,” he responds coolly, and he’s rewarded with a delighted laugh from my best friend.
I walk away from the conversation, not caring about pleasantries or playing hostess to this awkward interaction, and stalk over to Josh. “Why did you bring Everett?” I hiss.
He turns away from Mina who’d been feeding him a chip.
“He was at my house, and I asked if he wanted to come when you asked me to bring over some food.” He adds a little shrug, and that increases the frustration coursing through me. I hold back a groan and run my hand through my hair instead. “What’s the big deal?” he asks, popping a chip into his mouth.
“It’s not,” I lie. “I just would like to know if you’re bringing someone.”
His palms face me. “Okay, jeez. I didn’t think it would matter.”
I return to my chair where Sadie and Lauren are ripping open a bag of Barbecue Lays and guzzling cans of Sprite.
“So, that’s the ex-boyfriend?” Grace whispers, leaning toward me.
I nod.
“He’s cute.”
While I can’t disagree with her, the look of disgust is hard to hide on my face.
“What?” she asks. “He is.”
“That’s beside the point, Grace.”
“Obviously. He still broke your heart, but that is one fine ass man.”
My eyes widen, and I smack the back of my hand to her forearm. She smirks a laugh and takes a long, drawn-out sip out of her cup.
My eye catches the long glass bottle Mina pulled out of one of the grocery bags Josh brought, the metallic red glinting off the sun with the words Smirnoff winking in my direction. I reach for it, adding a healthy guzzle to my own plastic tumbler filled with ice and soda. I might as well be drunk if I’m going to have to deal with Everett’s constant gaze pointed in my direction.
* * *
“Mom.” Sadie’s voice perks up from the huddled whispers she and Lauren were speaking in. “Lauren’s mom’s here.”
I tilt back the rest of my drink—vodka mixed with a splash of Squirt—before I face her. “You need me to walk you guys to the parking lot?”
Lauren shakes her head. “My mom’s right there.” She points to where the sand meets the parking lot to find her mom waving in our direction. I wave a hand back, acknowledging the exchange of our teenage girls, as Lauren and Sadie collect their things.
“You got everything?” I ask Sadie.
“Yup.” She slings her tote bag over her shoulder.
“Make sure you wash your hair,” I say firmly. “That ocean water is dirty.”
“Yeah,” she answers.
“And brush your teeth,” I add.
“I know!” Sadie and Lauren turn to leave just as a buzz of alcohol starts to warm my blood.
With Sadie now in the hands of another responsible adult and out of my care for the night, it feels like the perfect time for a refill. I reach for the vodka, only a splash left, and add the remains of it to my cup.
“You want to take it easy there?”
“I’ll be fine,” I tell Grace. “This’ll be my last drink, and I’ll have plenty of time to sober up before I go home.”
She tips a doubtful look in my direction, but I ignore it, shifting my attention to my fresh drink instead.
“Hey, was Leo busy today?” Josh asks, taking in my morose state and the way I’m drowning it in something easier to stomach.
“I don’t know,” I tell him. “What did James say?”
“I guess he was tied up with something.”
“Then I guess he was tied up.” The alcohol’s starting to course through me, making me bold and my attitude thicken. I don’t care about pleasantries right now, and I’d rather not talk about my soon-to-be ex-husband.
The silence lingers while Mina and Josh canoodle on the blanket that’s way too small for the two of them to fit comfortably, causing Mina to take the seat on Josh’s lap. Grace tears open a fresh bag of Cheetos, and I suddenly have the urge to pee.
“I’ll be back,” I tell Grace. “Gotta use the little girls’ room.”
She nods, her mouth full and her fingertips fuzzy with Cheeto dust. “Want me to come with?” she says in a muffled voice.
I shake my head. “I’ll be fine.”
When I stand everything seems to spin a little. The ground underneath me feels like it’s swaying on a pendulum, so I grip my hand to the back of my chair. Grace hasn’t noticed and neither has Josh or Mina. But I catch Everett’s gaze watching my footing and how it’s uneven and teetering.
I ignore him, rounding the beach blankets to the parking lot where there’s a public bathroom. Of all public bathrooms in existence—shopping malls, restaurants, grocery stores—my second least favorite ones are the bathrooms at the beach. First would obviously be porta-potties. I brace myself for the acrid odor of urine that lingers in the wet cement of every beach bathroom and make my way to relieve myself. When I hit the sidewalk, a man—or a woman, I don’t know—whizzes by at full speed on their bike. They nearly miss me by an inch, and it causes me to tumble backward. I expect to fall into the cool sand, but I’m caught by warm hands and a strong grip on my shoulders. When I look up at whoever it is that came to my rescue, I see Everett.
“Are you okay?”
I jerk my shoulder away from him. “I’m fine,” I hiss in his direction.
I stomp to one of the individual stalls, reaching for the door, and let it swing open with excessive force. Once inside, I close it. I catch a glimpse of Everett standing where I’d left him with his hands shoved into his pockets.
Once I’m finished, I adjust my bottoms and swing open the door. It must have been the too fast sitting to standing motion or the overpowering smell in the small stall. Or even—most likely—the alcohol churning in my stomach, but as soon as I open the door, I feel everything rising up my throat. I turn around, heaving everything into the toilet I’d just used, not even having the time or thought to close the door behind me. So, whoever is outside of the stall can see my ass peeking out of my cover-up and the retching in real time.
Everything starts to burn. My throat, my nose, my eyes. I start coughing up what feels like my entire insides as a shiver runs up my spine. All of it, the cold, the chills, the sensation that my stomach is going to flip inside out, is all soothed by a hand pressed to my back. Specifically Everett’s. I can tell it’s him by the comforting strokes and the even pressure he applies when he massages his fingers between my shoulder blades. A touch I’d never forget.
“Mhh!” I exclaim, pushing my hand at Everett. “I-I’m. I’m…okay,” I sputter.
He ignores my protest and reaches for my hair, brushing it out of my face and into a loose ponytail at my nape. “It’s okay, Teeny. I got you,” Everett’s warm voice coos.
I don’t have the energy to fight him. Everett can hold up my hair and pat my back. He can stand by my side until I start vomiting the inside of my stomach. I don’t care at this point. I continue to heave and heave until I feel like there’s nothing left to empty out of me. I reach for a small square of toilet paper to wipe my face—the vomit, the snot, the tears—before I turn around to face Everett.
I stumble off the step and Everett catches me once again to avoid a face plant onto cement. Everything starts to grow blurry. Even Everett’s face. It looks a little distorted and wonky in the fading daylight lining the sidewalks.
“Come on,” I hear him groan.
Next thing I know, I’m being transported through air, large arms lifting me like I’m on a big fluffy cloud. I don’t know which direction I’m going. I could be headed for the moon, and I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference.
My body continues to float, and my head feels heavy, causing it to fall against hard muscle. All I want to do is just sleep, to drift off into a dreamland where my life isn’t in shambles.
Everything comes to a stop when I hear the sound of a car door open. I’m placed atop leather so gently I feel like I’m a coronation egg on a silk pillow. When the door shuts again and every sound is muted, I feel myself drift off into a thoughtless, worriless sleep.
* * *
“Teeny?”
“Hmm…”
“Teeny. We’re home.”
The drive from my parents’ house was quick, only twenty minutes to get back home. I’d fallen asleep in the passenger seat with Sadie buckled into her car seat behind me. She was just as sleepy as I was, popping her thumb into her mouth and dozing off as soon as Leo buckled her in. I thought about waking her so she didn’t fall asleep until we got home, but I was sleepy too. And when Leo backed out of my parents’ driveway, waving a hand at my parents standing in front of their doorstep, my lids were already growing heavy off the three glasses of wine I had during dinner. And now, as he gently woke me from that alcohol induced sleep, I wanted to just stay in the car.
“Teeny?”
My eyes finally pop open. This isn’t Leo’s Volvo. Sadie isn’t buckled in the back seat. There isn’t even a car seat there. And when I look over to the driver’s seat, it isn’t Leo sitting there. It’s Everett.
“Where am I?”
“I drove you home.”
“What?”
“I told everyone you weren’t feeling too well, and your friend gave me the keys to your car.”
“She what?!” Holy shit! I can’t believe I let myself get this drunk. And Grace. A wave of frustration starts to surge inside me as I map out a “What the fuck!” text intended for my best friend. Maybe even middle-naming her to stamp how deeply embarrassed I am right now.
“Is anyone home?” he asks cautiously.
Instead of answering him, I reach for the door handle, rushing out of the car. When my feet hit the pavement of my driveway, my entire body starts to sway.
“Whoa,” Everett says quietly, rushing to my side. He has my bag gripped in one large hand while the other reaches for my waist. I start to claw at him but realize it’s no use. With the entire world spinning and my house looking like it’s stuck in a distorted funhouse mirror, I wouldn’t be able to fight off a ladybug.
Everett wraps his arm around me and guides me to my door. Once there, I feel him fumble with his other hand before I hear a set of jangly keys and the front door open. Everett finds the light switch quickly and helps me to my couch before crouching in front of me.
“You feel like you might throw up again?”
I shake my head. My eyes are closed in an attempt to make everything stop spinning, but I feel Everett stand. He returns a few seconds later—it could’ve been minutes—and he places his hand on my knee.
“Take this,” he instructs.
I pry my stubborn eyes open and see a blurry sight of Everett’s large hands with two blueish pills in his palm.
“There’s no red pill? What if I want to know all about the Matrix?” I mumble through the discomfort.
“It’s Advil,” he explains through a laugh. “These gel ones were all you had.”
I sloppily take them from him and chug the water he hands me. Once I drink almost half of it, I feel a little less disoriented and my nausea dulls. My eyes clear through my drunken stupor, and I take in the whole image in front of me. Everett’s sitting on my couch, the same cream-colored one Leo and I picked at Croft House six years ago, with his long legs tucked underneath my coffee table—that one from Crate and Barrel—with a box of Premium saltine crackers sitting on top.
“I found these in your pantry,” he explains, reaching for the box and angling it in my direction. “You should get some food in your stomach.”
I look at him, the look on my face somewhere between a scowl and surrender. The long pause between us is drawn out, and he doesn’t back down from his offer. “I’m not going to think you hate me any less because you take the crackers.”
That draws an eye roll and a peaked shake of my head. I rip open a bag and shove an entire square cracker in my mouth, and like magic, I instantly feel less nauseous. “Thank you,” I whisper reluctantly.
“You’re welcome.”
I eat in silence, taking the occasional sip of water, and Everett waits patiently. Whatever swell of embarrassment mixed with my smothered animosity toward Everett gets tucked away. Somewhere I can ignore it and focus on the fact that he’s here sitting next to me. Everett’s here, in my home. And the sudden realization makes a wave of melancholy sweep through me.
“This is why I don’t drink,” I say, cutting into the silence. “Apparently, I can’t hold my liquor.”
“You couldn’t in high school. I doubt much has changed in that department.”
I roll my eyes again, this time with less irritation and a pinch of nostalgia instead. “Remember I’d get drunk off two Smirnoff Ices?”
He chuckles.
“I was so lame.”
Everett looks around the house, peering into the empty hallway. “So, where’s your husband?”
I stiffen at the mention of Leo. A knot forms in my throat, and I push it down while my fingers toy with the ragged edges of a chipped cracker. “He’s…he’s busy.”
I look over at him, hoping my omission is believable. I see his jaw tic and his brow furrow. “He’s been busy all day,” he comments. “He can’t be here at night when his wife gets home so she’s not alone in this big empty house?”
“I’m fine.”
“Don’t tell me he leaves you at home by yourself all the time, Teeny.”
I shoot him a disappointed scowl. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
He keeps his eyes on me, and we hold this silent staring contest. One he doesn’t budge from. As if he’s telling me he’ll decide what’s his business or not. The tiredness from earlier when I stumbled out of the bathroom returns, and I realize how little fight I have left in me.
“Things are…complicated,” I finally say.
“How?”
“I don’t know…it just is.” My lips twist to the side as soon as I feel my chin quiver, and I look away, hoping the ground will do me a favor and swallow me whole. Anything to get Everett to stop looking at me like he’s looking at me right now. “Don’t look at me like that,” I finally say when I can still feel his gaze on me.
“I’m not looking at you in any way.”
“Yes, you are.”
“Like how?”
I let my gaze drift up to him, not caring that my eyes have misted over, and I can no longer hide the ache that makes my chest feel like it’s going to cave in on itself. “Like you feel sorry for me.”
“Teeny,” he says, his voice cracking. “I’m looking at you because I shouldn’t be the one walking you to your couch. I shouldn’t be inside another man’s home making sure his wife is safe and fed after a night out with her friends. Your husband should be doing that. He should’ve met us at the door and felt threatened by me bringing you home.”
A tear trickles down my cheek. “This isn’t his home anymore,” I say through the enormous knot still stuck in my throat. “At least, it officially won’t be. Just as soon as I find a good lawyer.”
“You’re getting divorced?”
I nod. “He cheated on me.” Another tear trickles down my cheek and drops off the edge of my chin, hitting my bare thigh with a quiet splat. “I found out about three weeks ago. Though, if I had cared enough to do some digging, I’m sure I would’ve found out last year when it started.”
“Does Josh know?”
“No,” I answer. “James does. And my—Grace. But that’s it. I haven’t really told anyone yet.”
The inner corners of his eyebrows turn up, and those wrinkles between his brows and forehead deepen, showing how not only I, but he too, has aged. “You told me.”
I smirk. “Call it repayment for bringing me home. A little secret intel on my personal life.”
I expect a sad smile or something of the less desolate nature but instead, he ducks his head low. “I’m sorry,” he says, turning to face me with a look of pure regret.
My brow pinches together. “About what?”
“Your…marriage. Just, everything.”
“Why? You didn’t cheat on me.”
A flash of a grimace passes through his face. “I can’t imagine…” he says. He whispers it so softly that I don’t even know if I heard him right.
“What?”
“How could he cheat on you?”
The tightness in my throat returns, and my eyes start to mist over again. I look away, peering at my toes painted cotton candy pink to avoid his gaze. “I don’t know, Everett,” I say sardonically, like I’m humoring his rhetorical question with an actual answer. “Men just do shitty things sometimes.” I look back at him through the constant wave of tears.
So many unsaid things float in the air around us. Our past, our lives for the last twenty years that happened without either one witnessing it. And suddenly, I want to know all of it. What he’s been doing since he left. If he’s been in love, if he loves what he does for a living, whatever it may be. If he missed me. If he missed us .
I sink into the deep couch cushions, remembering why Leo picked this exact couch. It was because when we leaned our backs against it, it felt like we found a big squishy marshmallow to doze off in instead of just a simple piece of furniture we could lounge on.
“What about you?” I ask lazily, shifting the mood to something lighter. I turn with my shoulder wedged into the cushions and face him. He mirrors my movement, sliding off his shoes before resting his feet on the couch.
“What about me?”
“Are you married? Single? Swore off all women because relationships suck and being single is better than getting your heart broken again and again and ag?—”
“I’m not,” he interrupts.
My brow shoots up, impatiently urging him to clarify.
“Married. Or dating. Or anything, really.”
I nod.
“You remember when you came over to my house and we fell asleep on the couch?” he asks, his voice turning sweet and nostalgic.
“And my dad almost ripped your throat out when you walked me back to the house after curfew?”
We share a small laugh, and Everett eases into the cushions closer to me, letting the side of his head rest against the soft curves so our eyes are level. “To be fair, he wanted to rip my throat out every time I looked at you.”
“Yeah, but he got over that pretty quickly.”
He smirks, and we sit there, those moments from our past drifting in front of us. I can’t decide if it feels like someone’s dangling those memories to taunt us or if they’re sitting there, letting us sift through them, because we both need to.
For a second, I don’t see the Everett that’s in front of me right now. His skin a little weathered and the lines running out the corners of his eyes. Or the jawline that’s grown sharper over the years with the loss of his baby fat and youth. I see that seventeen-year-old boy I loved with my entire heart. Not parts of it where some corners were reserved for other important people in my life, but all of it. My entire heart belonged to that boy at some point in my life, and I don’t know what happened to that girl who loved with her entire being.
I reach up and smooth away a piece of his hair without even realizing it, only thinking about the hundreds of times I’d done it as that girl who was hopelessly in love.
“I loved you,” I say sadly. “So much.”
“I know,” he answers. “I did too.”
Not as much as I did.