Good Girl : An Enemies-to-Lovers, Roommate Romance (Alphahole Roommates Book 2), page 38
I sit on the floor with it and open it.
My parents’ wedding pictures. I’ve never seen these.
On the front is the two of them, smiling, looking at each other, all dressed up.
They look happy. They barely even look like Mom and Dad.
“Hey.”
I look over my shoulder. Austin’s leaned against the doorway.
I haven’t even been able to give any headspace to him being here, to how he held me when I fell apart.
Why is he here?
Feelings overwhelm me right now and I don’t seem to have the capacity to sift through them all.
No, I can’t look at this album right now. I’m not ready.
“I heard you in the shower, so I made you some food. Come down and eat.”
I slowly rise, leaving the album on the floor. Austin then takes me into his arms and holds me close.
And this is strange. That he’s here, like this.
I look up at him and he smooths my wet hair behind my ear with his fingertips.
“Let me know how I can help. Whatever I can do.”
I don’t know what to say, how to even talk over the feelings that crush my chest, so I don’t say a thing. He takes my hand and leads me downstairs.
I pause at the bottom of the stairs, seeing to my right Dad’s empty chair. I can’t go in there right now. I can’t face it. Austin’s set up soup and grilled cheese sandwiches for us on the kitchen table. He’s poured me some orange juice, too.
We sit.
I stare at the food. The file folder from Dad’s room is on top of my closed laptop. Austin must have brought it down.
“Try, sweetheart. Please?”
I blink. Tears are coming again.
I choke on a sob.
His chair squeaks as he pushes back from the opposite end of the table and then I’m standing up, engulfed in his embrace.
“It’s okay,” he says into the top of my hair as he presses soft kisses on my skin.
“It’s not.”
“I know, baby. I know it’s not. I mean it’s okay to cry.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Okay. Can you try to eat a little?”
I sit back down and stare into the bowl of tomato soup.
I love tomato soup. And it looks like he made it with milk instead of water. That’s how I make it. I look at him.
“You make this with milk?”
“Yeah.”
“I thought we were out.”
“I ran to the corner store quick and got some.”
I blink hard.
I pick up the bowl with both hands and take a sip. And then another.
Nobody has made me soup for a really, really long time.
He’s got a sad little smile.
“Sorry about my table manners,” I mumble.
I always liked my tomato soup in a mug. A mug that belonged to my mom. With lots of black pepper on top.
I set the bowl down, go to the cupboard and reach in to the very back. I lift up a big mug with the Coca Cola polar bear on it. He’s wearing sunglasses and holding a Coke. It’s dusty.
I hand-wash it and then dry it before I take it to the table and pour the rest of my soup in and shake some pepper over it.
“You want some crackers?” Austin holds up the box.
I shake my head and take another sip.
And then I set the mug down and take one half of my grilled cheese and dunk it into my soup and take a bite.
***
“I think that’s all I can manage,” I tell him after I swallow my third bite of grilled cheese and drink most of my soup.
“It’s something at least.”
“Thank you.”
There’s a knock at the door. I’m about to stand, but Austin passes me, putting his hand on my shoulder briefly, gesturing for me to stay where I am. I’m relieved to not have to answer the door.
But when I hear him talking to someone, I peer around the corner and see he’s talking to Andrew.
I hear him telling Austin he already knows, that I texted him this morning.
Austin looks over his shoulder at me.
“Hi Andrew,” I whisper. “Thanks for coming by, but I’m just… I’m not feeling very sociable.”
“I brought you coffee and donuts and to find out if I can do anything to help.” Andrew’s face is sad.
“That’s very kind.” I try to squeeze over, but it’s like Austin is blocking me from Andrew.
“Excuse me, Austin.”
I step around him and go out onto the porch. Andrew backs up, sets the things he brought down on the side of the porch banister, and reaches around and pulls me into a hug.
It immediately feels awkward.
Austin stands there with us.
“I’m so sorry about your loss, Jada. Can I come in?”
“Um… okay. But only for a couple minutes. I’m… I have-”
“I get it. You have arrangements to make, calls… but if there’s anything I can do, let me know.” He keeps one arm around me as he opens the door and this means Austin backs up so that we don’t collide.
This feels like a pissing contest, suddenly, like Austin and Andrew are facing off and thinking I’m not noticing.
We’re in the kitchen.
Austin comes in, carrying the items Andrew left on the porch. He sets them in the center of the table.
“Do you need help with anything?” Andrew asks and rubs my shoulder.
Austin moves in closer. “Come sit down, sweetheart.” He steers me into the chair on the back of the table and gets between me and Andrew. They’re looking at one another.
“Guys, come on,” I breathe out.
“Sorry, Jada, I’m not tryin’ to behave like an ape here,” Andrew remarks, emphasis on the ‘I’m’.
Austin glares at him. “He’s here right now for the same reason I am. To be here for you, Jada. But, see, he doesn’t get that I’m here. With you.” Austin’s emphasis is obviously to make Andrew think we’re in a relationship. And I’m not sure what we’re in.
“This has to stop. It’s silly,” I grumble.
“He wants to fuck you, Jada,” Austin says. “He needs to get that it isn’t gonna happen and he’s in the friend zone whether he likes that or not.”
“He knows he’s my friend,” I exclaim.
I glance Andrew’s way, about to say, ‘tell him’ but the look on Andrew’s face tells me that he does, in fact want to fuck me, does not want to be in that friend zone.
I jerk back in surprise.
“I’m not gonna rush you. I like you,” he says. “But yeah, I like you a lot. I get that this is a fucked up time for you, and that’s why I wouldn’t have played it like that. Last thing you need is to worry about two guys fighting over you.” He shoots Austin a dirty look.
Austin is trying to melt Andrew’s face.
I shake my head with exasperation.
“Not here to put pressure on you, Jada. You want me to stay or go?” Andrew asks.
“I’m okay, Andrew. Thanks anyway,” I say.
“I’ll call you later.” He leans over and kisses my cheek softly. “I’m here if you need anything. Day or night. Okay?”
I blink, saying nothing.
Andrew gives Austin a once-over and then he leaves.
“What the fuck,” I whisper.
I go from having nobody to having two men who want to fight over me? This is crazy.
I can’t even think about this right now.
Austin’s watching me process this.
“Okay, well, you should get going, too,” I say.
“I’m staying,” Austin states.
“I can’t…”
“I’m not goin’ anywhere, baby,” Austin declares. “I’m not making you do anything, not making you talk about anything. I’m just here.”
I don’t know how to decode this.
“I’m just here,” he repeats.
I take my dishes to the counter.
“I’ll deal with that,” he says, and moves up to the sink.
The milk is sitting out, so I lift it and open the fridge door. My eyes land on the six beers, the six chocolate pudding cups, two vanilla, and three banana that belong to my father. We ran out of butterscotch.
And my chest feels like it’s about to cave in again.
I stare into the fridge long enough that it beeps, jolting me.
“What can I do?” Austin asks.
I look at the clock on the wall. “Nothing. I’m gonna call Darlene. My cousin. Tell her…”
“I called the funeral home on your laptop. Got you an appointment for Monday, eleven o’clock. Is that okay or did you have another one you wanted to call?”
I’m shocked. I nod. “Thank you.”
“Want me to call your father’s work?”
“You’d do that?” I ask.
“Where did he work? I’ll look up the number.”
“The calendar on the side of the fridge is from his job. He’s a foreman in a factory. The number’s on the bottom.”
Austin moves to the fridge and taps the number from the calendar into his phone. “Your brother’s doctor called. I answered and told her what was going on. She thinks you should visit your brother and tell him. She’s putting you on the visitor’s list. She wants to talk to you first. She said to come Monday or Tuesday.”
“You tell her about my mom, too?”
He nods. “I hope that’s okay. I was just trying to save you a call. I’ll take you to the funeral home Monday and then I’ll drive you to your brother.”
“You don’t have to do that,” I say.
“I’m doing it,” he says firmly, but his eyes are gentle.
I nod. I don’t have the energy right now for much else, especially arguing.
I hear the phone ringing as he steps out, going outside to make that call. I’m glad I don’t have to listen to it.
I sit down and put my hands in my hair. I listen to the ticking of the clock on the wall. It’s loud right now. The house is so quiet.
I hear a horn honking in the distance, and then the screen door opens as Austin returns.
“Done. I’ll call them when the arrangements are made so they can send flowers and let any coworkers that want to know come. Now, what’s next?” he asks.
“Darlene.”
“Okay,” he says. “Is this cousin you’re calling gonna come over?”
“Not likely. She has a child. And she’s… I mean… we’re not extremely close.”
“Yeah, I figured that when you spent the night here last night alone and didn’t call her,” he says, and I think I detect anger.
I have no response to that.
“When I picked those papers up, there’s an envelope in there with your name on it.”
I reach for the folder on the table and open it. That letter-sized envelope is on top of the papers inside. My dad’s penmanship.
“I don’t know if I can do this right now,” I say.
“Then do it later,” Austin suggests.
“After I call Dar… can I go back to the condo? I don’t want to sleep here tonight. And I’m so tired.”
“Of course.”
“I’ll come back tomorrow and… go through some stuff.”
“Sure. We’ll come back tomorrow. Or Monday after the funeral home. Whatever you want.”
“You don’t need to come with me; I can do it.”
“I’ll meet you in the car. But don’t feel rushed. Just giving you privacy to make your phone call. Unless you want me here while you do it.”
“It’s okay. You can even just go, and I’ll head over when I’m done. I-”
“I’m waiting,” he states, angrily. And then the anger clears from his face. “Take your time.”
I lift my phone, and go to Darlene’s contact details.
She has family on her mom’s side. She has support, at least. But really, she didn’t have much of a relationship with my father. She won’t shed tears over the loss of her Uncle Rich. This is a courtesy call.
She answers, so I tell her the news. She asks some questions and tells me she’s sorry. I ask her if she heard anything about my mother over the years and explain the newspaper clippings I found.
Darlene gets upset at that, on my behalf. She’s very sweet about it. She tells me she’ll ask her mom if she knows anything.
She tells me she’ll ask her mom to call me, let me know what she knows about after Mom left, but says it might take time to get ahold of her as her mother is away at a women’s retreat for the weekend.
Darlene wants me to call her if I need anything and I promise to tell her the funeral arrangements once they’re made.
I pack up the things I have here, including my laptop, and find Austin in his rental car talking on the phone. He ends his call, relieves me of my bags, and opens the passenger door for me.
52
Austin
She says nothing during the drive and I leave her to her thoughts, though I wish I could do something to make them go away. My heart has never felt heavier for another person’s pain before.
When we get back to the apartment, she goes straight to her room, telling me she’s going to sleep.
And she does. For a long fucking time. In fact, at eleven at night, I climb in with her in her bed because I’m tired, but I wanna be close in case she needs something.
I fit myself behind her and spoon her.
Fuck, this feels right.
It also feels shit, because it feels like I feel her hurt seeping out of her pores.
She turns and faces me.
“What are you doing?” she asks, groggily.
“I wanted to be close, in case you need anything,” I say, cupping her jaw. I kiss her forehead. “I’m here for you, okay? You need anything?”
She smushes her face into my chest and squirms in closer and I guess that’s my answer, so I wrap my arms around her and put my lips to the top of her head.
I start to drift, feeling like this is right. My capuchin monkey, clinging to me. Despite how sad, hurt, upset she is, this feels right – being here for her.
***
I jolt awake, realizing she’s crying. She’s crying into my chest, audibly, her sobs making her entire body buck.
I hold on tighter and keep her close.
It goes on for a long time, her clinging to me, me rubbing her back and dotting kisses all over her face.
Finally, she chokes out some broken words.
“I la-lost my mom and I couldn’t … I couldn’t mourn. I didn’t know if she’d be back, but I couldn’t because Dad would get angry if he saw me sad, so I kept it to myself. I lost Josh and I couldn’t properly mourn. Dad found out I was dating him and he got so mad because Josh was a black guy. So stupid. Dad swore he wasn’t racist, but he was – Dad hit Shane for letting it happen. Shane’s best friend died and I was mourning my first love and Dad was throwing his fists around.”
“Fuck, baby.”
“And it was like I had to hide mourning him, so I moved out. I moved out and struggled so much. I wanted to do so many things, but I couldn’t alone yet keep going to school, so I h-had to drop out of college and take shit jobs to support myself. And now… now I’m supposed to mourn Dad, and he’s not here to stop me, but how can I mourn him when I’m so angry with him for not telling us about Mom? And Shane’s in a mental hospital after being in jail and trying to kill himself, too.”
“I don’t know, baby. I don’t know how you get through all that loss.”
“Some people have nothing but loss in their lives, Austin. Some people have to just deal because that’s all there is to do. Deal.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“It’s hard to deal.”
“I’m sure it is, sweetheart.”
She looks up at me. It’s dark, but my eyes have adjusted and I can see her blinking at me.
“I’m so alone.”
Fuck, that hurts.
“I’m right here.”
“I’m sorry I woke you up.”
“I’m here for you, Jada. Right here. Anything you need.”
“You shouldn’t be,” she whispers.
“Yeah, I should.”
She stares, waiting, I guess, for me to explain.
“I’m here, baby. And I’m gonna be with you every step of the way here. And when you get through the next few days or weeks or whenever you’re ready to talk about it, I wanna talk about you and me and where this is going with us. I’m not putting it on you now. I’m just gonna tell you that I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. I had my head up my ass for a bit, but it’s out.”
“But you are going somewhere. You’re going back to California soon.”
I flick the lamp on.
“Jada…”
She rolls away from me abruptly, hiding her red face, her swollen eyes. “I have to tinkle.”
She sounds panicked.
53
Jada
I walk back into the bedroom after washing my face and blowing my nose. He’s lying there on his back, palms laced behind his head, eyes on the ceiling.
His eyes hit mine as I sit on the edge of the bed.
“You can go back to your bed. I’m just gonna watch some TV. I don’t wanna keep you up.”
I know how awful I look right now. Face swollen from so much crying; I don’t want him looking at me.
“We were just in the middle of a conversation, sweetheart,” he informs. “You tell me I give you nothing, but I try to talk and you don’t want to.”
“I can’t,” I say. “You would pick now to try to talk.” I roll my eyes.
He sighs. “When you’re ready, then. I’m not tryin’ to overload you.”
“Why don’t you go to your room so you can sleep properly. My tossing and turning is just gonna keep you up all night.”
“Come here.” He tugs my hand and pulls me close. “I like you sleeping on my chest.”
I can’t get used to this. I could and I won’t, because it’ll hurt too much when I no longer have it.
“It’s okay.” I try to pull away.
“You’ve had a hard day, the hardest. I can’t pretend to know what that’s like and I’m gonna try to be as gentle as I can right now in saying this, but I think I just need to say a couple things. Okay?”
