38. Foster
38
FOSTER
R aina left Westport for good two weeks later.
When her dad showed up with a moving truck, I offered to help pack boxes, but she told me no, claiming she already felt guilty enough when it came to me; she didn t think she could handle moving help on top of it.
So, I m confused, Keene said as he hefted a box of my old football trophies into his arms and followed me from the back sliding door of my old room that Amy had finally won possession of. Are you two together or not?
Me and Raina? I asked, glancing back at him in question. When he nodded, I sighed and faced forward again, leading him around to the front of the house where my truck was parked and already half-loaded with other boxes. No, we are not.
But you two are friends? he persisted.
Right.
Plopping his box into the back of my truck, he frowned at me in confusion. And you love her?
I nodded and scanned the space that was left, playing mental Tetris as I tried to figure out what else could fit in here for this trip. Yep.
Keene threw up his hands in defeat. Well, how the hell does that work?
I glanced at him in surprise. I don t know. It just does. We text every couple of days — mostly about the apartment— I sent her money for rent, and she shipped me a copy of the apartment key. It s…fine.
He lifted one eyebrow. And you re not actively pursuing her for more?
A splinter of pain pierced me. But I shook my head. Not right now, no. It s not a good time for her. Plus she s all the way in Galveston, and I m stuck here for at least another year. She s where she needs to be, and I m where I need to be. If it was meant to happen, it would.
Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, Keene guessed, You re just waiting for her to remember, aren t you?
A little bit, yeah, I answered. But even if she doesn t… I shrugged. We started off as friends last time. I figure that s the best way to worm back into her heart again.
And you don t care at all that she could just go off and nail whomever she wants in the meantime?
I narrowed my eyes at him because I d never even considered the possibility of her dating someone else while I was playing the long game. But I definitely was now , and I didn t particularly like it.
To Keene, however, I said, She s still healing from her car accident and mourning her sister.
Something he clearly wasn t doing any longer. He was definitely over Kinsey s death. He d been the only person around to help me move today, and I d had to wait for him to kick out his overnight guest this morning before he could get his ass over here and give me a hand.
But I was glad he was over his own trauma and moving on, so I really couldn t complain.
So if she showed up at your apartment tonight and threw herself at you, he persisted with his line of questioning. You d be all like, no, no. We shouldn t. You re still healing . He paused to give me a look. Bullshit.
Dude, I countered. If she visited me every weekend for nothing but a booty call, I d be completely down. But she won t, so I m gonna be satisfied with this until she does.
But…how? he demanded.
I shrugged. I have no idea. I just know that getting a maybe-someday from her is better than a nothing-ever. I m taking what I can get.
He whistled and shook his head Man, that is lame, he announced as he started to walk with me back toward the house. You know what you need? You need to come out with me tonight. I ll get you laid and?—
Hey! Foster!
When a harsh voice called from near my truck in the drive, both Keene and I glanced around to see a man stalking toward us, his features filled with rage.
Recognizing Robbie Crowder, I groaned. Fuck.
Keene glanced at me in worry. What? Another reporter?
I grimaced, not wanting a reminder that I had to deal with reporters these days too.
About the same time that Raina had moved away from Westport, Connor Resson had written an op-ed about me, suggesting that I was suffering from substance abuse. He posted a handful of social media pictures of me holding a drink at various parties and then explained how he d seen me sweaty and disoriented at the hospital as if I were on drugs.
My friends had immediately gone on the warpath, picking apart all the pictures and pointing out in all the comments that the level in my cup never changed, meaning I never actually drank anything. My sister, Amy, had cried, worried she d started the whole rumor. And my parents threatened Resson with libel if he didn t take the article down, which he did. But the damage had already been done.
People talked and speculated, and now Coach had me taking a freaking random drug test once a week—at least—so he could publicly prove I was clean and sober.
I d lost a portion of my fan base over the whole thing. It d be hard to come back from this. But honestly, I kind of hoped my popularity did die down; I hated being in the public eye.
At the moment, however, there was a big buzz around me. I d even let Oaklynn interview me on her segment so I could explain the scene at the hospital that Connor had described, telling everyone that I d just visited someone who d had some distressing news. And then I d had to explain my history with panic attacks and what I d gone through to combat them. It had not been fun.
A lot of people had been sympathetic, while a lot worried that I wouldn t be fit to be the quarterback now that I was prone to anxiety. And some still thought I was a drug addict.
Personally, I just wanted it to end.
All of which had nothing to do with Robbie Crowder marching toward me right now, looking as if he wanted to kick my ass.
This week just kept getting better and better, I swear.
No, he s not a reporter, I told Keene with some irritation. He s a cuckolded husband.
Huh? He whipped a startled glance my way.
I winced, wishing I had time to explain, but Robbie was already upon us, pointing and snarling, I want to talk to you.
Hey, man, I started casually, trying to be cool. What s— Whoa !
He swung a fist at my head.
I ducked the first shot and lifted my hands, calling peace to the situation, but then he caught me in the jaw with his second right hook, growling, You son of a bitch.
As I stumbled back, seeing stars, Keene jumped in, shouting, Hey, hey! What do you think you re doing? He pushed Robbie away from me, giving me time to orient myself.
You stay out of this, Robbie warned, pointing at him. I m talking to him . He transferred his finger my way. You fucked Em, didn t you? You slept with my wife ?
Suddenly glad that my mother had taken all my younger siblings out for the afternoon so I could move out without upsetting any of them, I shook my head.
Next to me, Keene burst out laughing.
Holding his gut, he bent slightly as he pointed at me. Foster? You think choirboy Foster slept with a married woman? Yeah, right. That s hilarious.
Robbie blinked in confusion before turning to me. But she said you did.
I furrowed my brow, honestly confused as to why she would ever reveal such a thing to him. I don t know why she told you that.
Keene scoffed. Gee, I wonder. The two of them were probably fighting. He motioned toward Robbie. I bet he did the babysitter or some shit. And then she tried to one up him by lying and saying she banged the hot, young local football star. Yeah, really hard to figure out, that one.
When Robbie paused as if that was exactly what had happened, a bucketload of guilt sluiced through me. Then he turned to me. So you didn t sleep with her?
I did not sleep with your wife , I said very carefully.
Then who did? Robbie asked, looking stumped as he dropped his hands down to his sides, defeated.
Is she hot? Keene asked. I might be willing if you need volunteers.
Dude, I warned, pushing him back protectively when Robbie narrowed his eyes.
Who even are you? Robbie demanded.
Keene sighed glumly. Apparently no one. I just know Union here would never screw with a married chick. And besides, what are you? Like thirty ? I ve known Fos since he was ten , and never once have I seen a single cougar catch his attention. I can t even picture him wanting someone so old.
Hey, she s not that old, Robbie protested, looking insulted.
Which made Keene pounce, rebutting him with lifted eyebrows, Oh! So now you want him to bang her? Seriously, man, make up your mind.
No! I just… Robbie blew out a frazzled breath. I just wanted to hit someone. You know?
Well, you did. Keene motioned to my eye that was beginning to throb. Bravo.
She is so—! Hissing out a disgusted breath, Robbie set his hands on his hips and seethed. I don t know what to do about her. She s my wife, you know. My team. I can t quit on my team. But she just?—
Fucks other guys? Keene asked sympathetically, nodding as if he actually understood. Yeah, that sucks, man. Then he lifted a speculative finger and asked, Have you tried spicing it up in the bedroom for her a little? I mean, if you actually had any talent in pleasing her, maybe she wouldn t get the urge to stray so often.
Robbie shot him a hard glare. Excuse me?
I tried to discreetly motion to Keene to shut the fuck up, so he didn t get a black eye to match mine, but he paid me no attention.
I have an idea, he started. If you really want her to return to your dick instead of seeking others elsewhere, here s what you need to do. He pulled up his phone. Just check out this website, here. It s chock-full of great ideas, I m telling you. They have this one technique—number five—that s become my tried-and-true favorite, which I like to call The Happy Kitty. Hell, I get strangers coming up, begging me for it because other ladies referred them to me, I shit you not. Why don t you give me your number, and I ll text you the link.
Ten minutes later, Keene was sending the cuckolded husband on his way with a friendly pat on the back.
Thanks again, Robbie gushed, waving with a grateful grin over his shoulder as he hurried off. Oh, and sorry for the misunderstanding, Foster, he called to me. No hard feelings, huh?
Sure. I sent him a tight smile. No hard feelings. Only to wince and glance over at Keene.
Wow… Keene drew out a long breath as he watched Robbie go. Poor clueless schmuck. Ain t no way is he gonna keep his wife faithful now that she s got a taste for strange.
I shook my head and lifted my hands in question. Since when did you become a freaking marriage counselor?
What? He shrugged. I had to do something to stop him from going after you again. And the dude was having sex problems. Sex is my thing. Why wouldn t I try to help him out?
With that, he turned away and started back toward the house to retrieve another box as if nothing had happened.
I blinked after him before hurrying to catch up. I have a feeling it s more than just sex that s wrong with their marriage.
Keene only shrugged. I couldn t give a shit less what their marital problems are. I got him to leave you alone…and apologize on top of that. Mission accomplished.
Startled that he d only done all that for me, I tilted my head curiously, looking at him in a whole new light. Wow, I realized with some shock. You really did just completely diffuse that situation. I mean, he was legit going to kick my ass, and you… I shook my head in awe. Keene Dugger, you re my hero.
With a laugh, Keene glanced back to send me an eye roll. Meh. He just needed to unload to someone.
But how the hell did you know that? I wondered. You ve never been married.
He snorted as he slid open the door to my bedroom. And I ain t never gettin married after seeing shit like that. I mean, is nothing sacred anymore?
Wrinkling my nose, I shook my head, wondering who he even was right now. As we each hefted a new box to tote back out to my truck, I said, Well, thanks. I really appreciate you saving my bacon.
I wouldn t praise me too much, he warned with a severe glance my way as he led the charge back outside. You should see yourself. That eye s definitely gonna bruise. It needs some serious ice. Then he gave a sudden laugh and shook his head. But God, I still can t believe that clown actually thought you slept with his wife .
I shrugged as I tucked my box under one arm and closed the door behind me. Well, I did sleep with her, so he was half right.
Keene dropped the box he was carrying.
Inside, the contents rattled loudly, possibly even breaking.
Dude! I cried.
Whirling around to gape at me, Keene demanded, What do you mean, you slept with her?
I sighed. They weren t married at the time. They got divorced, then remarried again half a year later, so there was no cheating. But, yeah, when she wasn t his wife, I went over there to pick up my sister who d been playing with her oldest daughter one night, and she was all sad and upset, crying on her divorce papers.
And she guilt-tripped you into fucking her? Keene deduced with a pained wince as if he could feel my misery.
I grimaced over his terminology, but then shrugged and reluctantly admitted, Basically, yeah. But it was only once. She and Robbie reconnected again, like, within the week. And I ve been trying to avoid her like the plague ever since.
Holy shit, my friend breathed in awe. I cannot believe this. You finally had sex for the third time and didn t tell us.
Of course that would be more important to him than me nearly committing adultery.
Do I seriously have to tell you about every sexual encounter I ever have?
Sending him a get-real glance, I started walking again, following the path around the house to the front.
Well, I tell you about mine , Keene argued, picking up his box and scurrying after me.
Laughing, I glanced over at him as he appeared at my side. And you really don t have to. Besides, this wasn t something I particularly wanted to broadcast; it had to be the most humiliating thing I d ever done.
I don t care, Keene assured. I was starting to worry that your virginity was going to grow back or your dick would shrivel up and fall off from disuse. But now that I know you ve done it a third time…
Clearing my throat, I ducked my face when I felt it heat, and Keene immediately noticed.
He squinted suspiciously for half a second before his eyes widened. Dropping the box again, he shouted, You mean, there s more ?! You slutbag. How many women have you been with?
Seriously, I told him with a sigh, nodding towards the box. Those are my trophies, man.
He merely rolled his eyes and bent to pick them back up again. You have, like, five more boxes of them. You ll be fine. So how many? Four? Ten? Twenty? A hundred? A thou?—?
Four! I cried, mostly to shut him up. There s just been four in total. Jeez.
He blinked. So I m only missing one? Thank God. But who s number four?
Refusing to answer, I slid the next box into the bed of my truck.
Behind me, Keene quietly said, It was Raina, wasn t it?
I answered him by slumping onto the tailgate with a depressed sigh.
Damn, man. Keene hopped up next to me. When did this happen?
I glanced over, feeling the pain of it all over again. Right before she told me she was leaving Westport for good.
Fuck, he muttered. So you ve had another panic attack and not told anyone about that , either, I m guessing.
Actually, no, I realized. I didn t. I haven t had one since our meeting.
Hold up. Keene lifted his hands. Let me get this straight. You came this close to being outed as a damn home-wrecker. Your reputation as the wholesome, boy-next-door football player s been put into question by thousands because of that douchebag s article. Your parents kicked you out. And the love of your life one-and-doned you, which is, like, your greatest relationship dread. But you haven t had a single attack? How the fuck is that possible?
I m not really sure, I admitted glumly. But I think it had something to do with the way I flipped out when I saw all the moving boxes in Raina s kitchen.
Brow furrowing, Keene shook his head. Huh?
It upset me, I explained. Realizing she was leaving… I mean, I handled it all wrong. I said shit I wish I could take back. I was just…a complete ass. But I actually processed what I was feeling right there on the spot. I didn t try to hide it or hold it in. There was no reason for it to burst out of me later in the form of anxiety because I let myself feel what I was feeling.
Well, shit. Keene nodded as if impressed. That only took you a dozen years to figure out.
I winced. God. It will be twelve years this June since Hayes died, won t it?
Yep. And I m proud of you, man. Good job on letting yourself feel pissed when you got pissed.
When he patted my back in congratulations, I sent him a miserable laugh. Thanks. It didn t win me the girl, but at least now I know how to properly mourn her.
She ll come back, he said quietly.
I glanced at him in surprise, but he only lifted one shoulder. My mom came back, and I got a second chance to tell her goodbye. I was able to thank her for being the most important person in my world for the first nine years of my life, even though now —he rolled his eyes in irritation— I gotta figure out how to send her off to where she s supposed to go. But…fuck. If I can communicate with her again after ten years of her being gone, anything can happen. Marriage might not be for me, but you were freaking built for it, man. You are the epitome of the perfect, loyal, monogamous boyfriend, slash, future husband. Your girl has to come back. She just has to.
I sighed, pretty certain it was impossible. There was no reason for Raina to return to Westport. Ever.
To Keene, however, I said, I hope you re right.