Chapter Thirty-Three

 

<><> Chris <><>

 

My Bronco can’t go fast enough. I swear, it’s going to break down any second now as I floor the gas peddle and weave around cars like they’re standing still. I keep checking the rearview to see if the cops are behind me to give me a ticket. So far so good — even though I deserve one. If I can just talk to Miriam, make her see that she has other options, then things will be fine. Rounding her street, my heart drops when I see her getting into a large SUV at a distance as an older man with graying hair hoists a large suitcase into the back. I slow my truck down and pull over, suddenly nervous about rushing in. Instead, I idle at the curb a safe distance away and watch as the man, who I assume is her dad, gets in and shuts the door. Part of me wants to race in with tires screeching to stop her, to tell her that love is enough to make her stay, but another part of me thinks that’s immature and I don’t want to make a scene in front of her dad. I don’t want to cause Miriam even more stress, since this is probably off the charts stressful for her right now. She’s leaving the home she shared with her mom. Again, I remember Jackie’s advice about not being selfish.

I watch as the SUV backs out of the driveway and pulls away down the street…away from me. I grip the wheel until the blood drains out of my fingers, forcing myself to stay when I want to take off after them. What am I going to do, follow her to Connecticut? And then what? My chest clenches with an unbelievable ache; a gripping pain I’ve never experienced before. I know the definition, but saying it makes it all too real. Miriam’s gone. She’ll never come back. It’s over. I’m so sad and angry I want to drive over her lawn and smash the real estate sign with my bumper. I want to hurt someone for making me feel this way, just take my fist to the dashboard or the first person I see. I take some really deep breaths, count to ten, and fight off a panic attack. Who am I kidding? Punching something or someone isn’t me anymore. If there’s one thing Miriam taught me, it’s self-respect and patience. And now, she’s taught me what it feels like to have your heart crushed into a billion pieces and then stomped on — and I can’t exactly be mad at her because of what she’s going through. She’s not thinking straight, not herself. She’s completely overwhelmed and emotional. I’m trying to be mature about this – even though there’s a lump in my throat the size of a baseball. I mull over the possibilities all the way home.

Slamming the truck door, I don’t even remember getting up the front steps I’m in such a haze of shock. It’s like my world just came crashing down around me.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” Jackie asks the minute she sees me. It’s like she has this sixth sense about my emotional state before I even have to say a word. Guess it’s a mom thing.

“You look like shit, my man.” Okay, so Uncle Terry’s just as perceptive, just not as subtle.

“Miriam left.”

“What do you mean left?”

“There’s a realtor sign on the lawn and I saw her getting into her dad’s truck and leaving.”

“Did you talk to her?” Uncle Terry asks.

“No.”

Jackie crosses the floor and hugs me tight. I’m trying so hard not to cry right now. It’s really difficult. Maybe if I were alone with Jackie I’d feel comfortable breaking down, but not with Uncle Terry, Kyle, and Bettina here. Glancing over at Kyle and Bettina, the way they’re holding hands and bonded for life, a ripple of jealousy overtakes my reason. That should be Miriam and I. Instead, she’s gone and I’m left in the fallout wondering what the hell went wrong.

“I’ve gotta be somewhere,” I say, feeling smothered by all the attention.

“Where?” Jackie’s tone is worried.

“Simon’s.”

I turn around and leave before anyone can stop me…before I break down. I slowly drive to Simon’s to have a beer and bitch about why girls leave. If there’s anyone left in Buffalo to bitch with about the opposite sex, it’s him.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

A week passes and I’ve stared at the pictures I took of Miriam a million times. I save the one of us laughing at the campsite as my screen saver, but it’s not enough. I need her in person. I’m grumpy and miserable with everyone around me. The guys at the site steer clear of me as I grunt my way around the project. At least there’s minimal talking when you’re using a jackhammer and bobcat. It’s a solitary task that gets out the aggression. I guess you could say I’m channeling my frustrations into something productive.

Kyle and Bettina left for school yesterday, to the awaiting apartment that they’ll share, and I tried my best to smile and be happy for them. Inside, I was crumbling. Kyle leaving again means he’s one step closer to having a better life, to improving himself through education. I’ll miss having him around. Everyone I care about leaves and it’s really got me down.

Jackie was emotional yesterday, but in a way she’s at peace with Kyle being gone now, especially since she started seeing Brian Foster on a regular basis. She denied it for a while, but now they’re inseparable when she’s not working. He’s either over here or she’s crossing the Foster’s construction lot to his big house on the other side. Wouldn’t surprise me if she moved in with him one of these days. Where does that leave me? Scrambling to find my own place. Maybe it’s time anyway.

Being a Friday, I come home from work completely beat after a long week. I’m sweaty and miserable and my mood is foul too. Today was a long one full of heavy labor and distractions, exactly what I needed to take my mind off of Miriam and my hell of an existence without her. I got four calls from Donna today out of the blue, but I ignored them and let voicemail pick up. They were blank. I’m tempted to change my number. She obviously found out that Miriam left me high and dry, so she’s either calling to rub it in or for a booty-call or both. NOT interested. Is that all I have to look forward to now? Meaningless hook-ups with girls I have no interest in being with long-term? I’m so depressed right now nothing can pull me out of it. I haven’t heard from Miriam and I haven’t called either. I’m trying to respect her wishes, even though it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Rejection stings more than anything.

After the world’s longest shower, I throw on some jeans and head for the kitchen. I need something that’s going to numb the pain and make me forget Miriam’s face and the sound of her soft voice in my ear since that’s all I can think about. Just as I’m reaching into the fridge, the back screen door opens and in walks Uncle Terry.

“Hey, want one?” I ask.

“Nope.”

I close the fridge and I’m about to twist the cap when Uncle Terry reaches out and takes the beer from me. This doesn’t bother me since he’s always snagging our beers. What surprises me is when he opens the fridge and puts it back unopened.

“Where’s your mom?”

“At Brian’s.”

“Good. You’re coming with me.”

 

 

“So, why are we here?” I ask as Uncle Terry leads me to the bar. The place is quiet, even on a Friday, but I wouldn’t expect anything less. It’s just a hole in the wall with rough looking regulars and the same bartender since the beginning of time. This was one of the first places I tried using fake ID when I was sixteen. Worked like a charm. They must think I’m rounding thirty by now.

Terry sits on a stool and I follow his lead, facing the bartender as he asks us what we want. We tell him our usual and he knows exactly what we mean. At least some things never change, though this doesn’t exactly please me.

“I’m worried about you.”

“Me?” I ask, surprised.

“Yeah, you. More like concerned. I think you’re heading for some destruction.”

Okay, so I didn’t expect that. Sure, I’ve been mopey, but does he think I’m going to go ape-shit or something? “It’s nothing.” The bartender places our beer in front of us and I take a swig to look busy, keeping my eyes on the bar in front of me.

“You seem a little lost, Chris. I’m afraid you’re gonna end up like me, make the same mistake I made.”

So, yeah, this gets my attention and I look over. “What are we talking about, Cammie?”

Uncle Terry nods. He’s referring to his relationship with Camilla Griffins, a woman he was with for years. He wouldn’t take the plunge and ask her to marry him, so she got tired of waiting and moved to Spain. Uncle Terry was heartbroken, but he let her go. Now she’s married to some Spanish banker dude and we know he lives in regret. She’s the one that got away.

“What do you want, Chris?”

“What do you mean?” I take another swig, pretending to be casual but knowing this is turning intense really fast. And here I was hoping to drown my sorrows tonight, numb them, not confront them head-on.

“I mean, do you want this girl in your life? Because if you want her, then you have to take control. Don’t make the same mistake I did.”

I take a long sip before placing my beer down and turning to face him. He’s staring right back at me, all serious. Maybe it’s time I started listening to a little friendly advice, especially from a guy who’s been there. Someone who has my best interest at heart and has been like a father figure my entire life.

“I said what do you want?” he demands.

“I want Miriam.”

“Then go get her!”

 

 

The next morning, I’m groggy because I spent half the night in a haze of nerves, but adrenaline kicks in and gets me on my feet when I remember what today is. This is the day that will decide my fate, one way or another, positive or negative. By the end of this day, I’ll have an answer.

I take a hot shower and have a quick breakfast with Jackie, who is overjoyed at my plan of action, calling it romantic and right out of a John Hughes movie. She packs me a thermos of coffee and some snacks for the long drive ahead, always the positive force making sure everyone is prepared.

First thing’s first, though. Sitting in the barber’s chair, he asks me how much I want taken off.

“Nice and short,” I say for the first time in two years. As he’s cutting it, I scroll down my iPhone browser for business courses offered in Buffalo. Finding one, I mark the webpage with plans to do a little more research and enroll when I get back. Leaving the barber, feeling like a new man. I want to impress Miriam, show her I’m serious about my future — serious about us.