“You’re not Catholic, Morganna,” I say.
“I’ll turn myself into fucking Ghandi, Buddha, Lord our Savior if it means you’ll flip the switch. Don’t think I won’t! What if you lose your job?” she seethes. I know I only have a certain amount of time before she gets really mad. I thought it would be longer, though. I’m not ready to give up the bottle. It’s the only thing that dulls the pain. She snatches the bottle out of my hand and throws it on the ground. It shatters. I’m impressed she has enough strength to break it.
“Nice. That’s thick glass,” I admit. Her chest is rising and falling like a dragon. She still hurts. She’s still broken. She hides it better than I can. I hold my hands up. “I’m sorry. Fine. I’ll go in to work,” I say. I have zero plans to go in to work. I want to appease Morganna so she’ll get off my nuts. I want to drink. I want to drink all fucking day. Until I can’t see straight and I’m not sure if I live in reality or a dream.
“Liar,” she says. “I know you’re lying which is why I toldherto come over later. Maybe she can talk some sense into you.” She can’t be serious. She sees the shock written on my face and nods, a calculating smile on her lips.
“Why the fuck would you do that?” I stand up and start pacing. I haven’t seen or spoken to Windsor since a hazy, drunken phone conversation the night after Stone’s funeral. At least something I did was successful. I pushed her away completely. Not so much as an e-mail in how long has it been? I wrinkle my brow.
Morganna reads my thoughts. “It’s been two months you idiot and surprise, surprise—Windsor is dating. She’s dating, Maverick. You are going to lose her for good if you don’t pull yourself out of this,” she waves around the room grimacing.
My stomach sinks. I sit down on a chair, putting my head in my hands. I remember Windsor’s small hand brushing the top of this very same chair and my heart starts pounding.
“I thought maybe you’d like to know that. I’ve tried to tell you a million times that life goes on, Mav. The sun keeps rising and setting no matter how you feel or what’s going on inside of your head. You’ll never get these two months back. They’re gone. I’m a miserable piece of shit without him. I know not to waste my life because of it, though. This is it. This is all you get. She’ll be here at four.”
My pulse is all over the place and I feel like I’m suffocating. “At four?” I ask, my voice trembling. I can’t see Windsor. Better put, I can’t let Windsor see me like this. I’m already trying to come up with something to deter her.
Morganna clacks up to me, hands perched on her hips, and says, “Don’t mess it up. You wouldn’t believe how much convincing I had to do to get her to agree—everything except my first-born. I did this for you, because if you push her away any longer, you’re going to lose her to some fucking accountant with bad hair who gets hives at the mention of skydiving. Is that what you want for her life? You spew all this bullshit about not loving her and not giving a shit about what she does. You’ve concocted this wild notion that she has something to do with why Stone is gone. It’s all in your head. You love her and that’s changed you. It changed you for the better, for your information. Take what is yours, you stubborn asshole.”
Fuck. She’s right. Morganna is right. I know it with every fiber of my being. But I’m not finished punishing myself. I’m not sure I’ll ever be.
I try to clean the house a little, but it’s useless. Two months of being so drunk I can’t remember how to use a dishwasher has taken its toll. Morganna gave up cleaning after a few weeks, telling me that I was depressing her even more than she already was. I thought about asking Tawny to come clean, but didn’t because I didn’t want to end up with an STD in a drunken stupor. I don’t remember my nights. Which is just how I want it.
Steve walks in when I have a broom in my hand cleaning up some mess of unknown origin. “Hey dude, you coming in to work today? Morg said you wanted to work out for a little bit,” he says stretching his arms over his head. Everyone pussyfoots around me, like I’m some baby that has to be watched very carefully and their words finely monitored. It drives me crazy.
“She’s coming over here this afternoon and I don’t know how to stop her,” I say. Steve knows whosheis. Everyone does. He winces a little. He feels sorry for me, obviously. “Don’t look at me like that, fucker. She’s dating,” I admit.
“So what? You don’t have to let her in. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. You don’t want her here, right?” Steve asks.
I do and I don’t. Actually I don’t. Seeing blue eyes will only fuck with my mind.
“Why are you so hung up on a chick? Dude, I’ve been telling everyone this for years. No one ever wants to listen. You can’t trust anything that bleeds for a week and doesn’t die. Forget her, man. Go back to your fan club. Those girls won’t fuck you over. They’ll just fuck you senseless. We miss you on the dark side.”
I could do that. Maybe it would make me feel better. I wouldn’t be drinking by myself every night and slipping into oblivion.
I smile at Steve. Not because I agree with him. Not fully, anyway, but because he gave me a brilliant idea. “Call as many tens as you can. Maybe get some of the guys over here. We’re going to have a fucking party. It starts at three. Make sure everyone is here on time, fucker. You hear me?” I ask. Steve grins, nods, and pulls out his cell phone, dialing numbers like a madman. “A pool party,” I add. I need the perfect scene.
I continue cleaning, and drinking straight liquor until I’m making more of a mess than cleaning. As I’m showering, I catch sight of Windsor’s pink, empty bottle of shampoo in my shower. I can’t throw the fucking thing away. I used it until it was gone. I didn’t want to think about her, but smelling her kept me from doing something really stupid. It was a reminder that good does exist in this world, even if I don’t deserve it.
Deep down I know she’s not the reason Stone is gone. It’s just the easiest thing for me to assume when I can’t come up with better reasons for his death. The bottle reminds me of the best night of my life. A piece of plastic is the only thing I have left of the woman I love.
I swat it, making it bounce in the wet room. I don’t pick it up. I dress in a pair of shorts, not even bothering to put a shirt on. Looking at myself in the mirror is hard. The shell of a person staring back at me is unrecognizable. I’m a good twenty pounds lighter than I was when I saw Windsor last. My face is gaunt and the bags under my eyes are sunken from drunken sleep. It’s not real sleep, you know? Passing out doesn’t count. The REM state of sleep isn’t reached. Fuck. I look horrible.
I rub the tattoo over my chest. I don’t regret it. I’m actually proud of it. It proves that there was a time in my life that I wasn’t this fucked up. It was a very short-lived period, but it was real. Windsor is real. She just isn’t mine anymore. My heart aches. Morganna’s words replay in my head.You’re going to lose her forever.She’s dating, Maverick.Although I panic at the thought, honestly I’m fucking relieved she’s moving on. I second-guess the “scene” I’m setting up for her to witness. I may not even need to go through the trouble. She could be over our relationship already. I swallow down the emotion. It’s too much, too soon.
I walk into the living room and see all of the half-dressed women. Well, if Windsor’s not over it, she will be very shortly. Steve made sure of it. Hot women litter my house like they’ve always been here. A few of them are lounging on my leather couch. I grimace, remembering performing Windsor’s song and her sitting in the same spot. It’s strange to see all these people in my house. A cute blonde in the corner smiles and wiggles her fingers at me. I smile. I mouth back “hi” and pour myself a glass of whiskey.
Steve walks over. “Morganna is pissed. She found out. Just thought you should know. I tried to keep it from her, but it’s like she lives in my fucking head. She told me this was your last chance.”
All I need is one more chance. I will blow the remnants of my heart into dust.
“Is she my mother?” I bite out. “I just invited some friends over to party.” I take a sip of my strong drink. I think of Stone. How he would always pass me cups of water or diet soda so no one would know I wasn’t drinking. I cough. “I just want to get this over with.”
“I blamed you. I didn’t want her wrath. You understand,” Steve explains. I narrow my eyes at him. He backs up a step, holding his hands up.
“Why?” I ask, setting my cup down on the counter. “Why do you care if she descends upon you like a smiting warlord? It shouldn’t matter,” I accuse. I see the look in his eye. “Unless you want her,” I whisper. Steve shakes his head. “Do you want Morganna, Steve?”
“No. Jesus, of course not. I just don’t want to be on her bad side. What’s your problem, dude,” Steve responds.
