That Girl is Mine - Part One (5 page)

The doctors told me that I’d be in the cast for six to eight weeks. I hate my lack of mobility, and every day, I go through my ups and down, feeling stifled without the ability to dance. Dylan was right when he said all of my emotions come out then. It seems to be the only thing in my life that truly allows me to express myself, and without it, I feel empty.

Josh has been doing his best to cheer me up when he’s at home. But he works so much, and neither of us are in the mood to go out, so he’ll snuggle with me on the couch and watch movies until I fall asleep on his chest. Then he’ll carry me up to bed. He’s sweet and he’s caring, and I love him for it. But it’s not enough. I need dance.

Dylan has been great too. Every day, he eats lunch and dinner with me. He returns during the day with lunch for the both of us, and I make something for us to share for dinner. Each time, he sits with me for as long as he can, talking about anything and everything, just helping to pass the time before Josh gets home, which is when he tends to go out, so Josh and I can have ‘couple time’ as he calls it. He’s the ideal roommate – never in the way, and always there when you need him. He’s even taken to calling me ‘Rusty’ all the time now. Normally, I hate nicknames, but I don’t mind it coming from him, because I know there’s no malice behind it. It means we’ve become friends.

I find myself looking forward to our lunch date more and more each day because I’ve really grown to enjoy Dylan’s company. I can completely understand why he and Josh have been friends for so long. Dylan is so easy to talk to and seems to never run out of interesting conversation. I find myself laughing with him more often than not, asking him about his life, learning about his and Josh’s upbringing. Based on the stories he tells, I’m surprised either of them managed to finish high school.

Sometimes, to get me out of the house, he takes me back to the shop after lunch, so I can hang out and talk with Roxy and some of the other artists. Everyone is really nice and nowhere near what I used to expect tattooists were like. To make myself useful, I help behind reception, or I help to clean the tattoo stations, or whatever else I can manage while balancing on one foot. Roxy spends a lot of her time, trying to convince me to get some ink done (I keep declining), and they all sign my cast and add some really fancy artwork, giving me what I think is the most envied broken ankle in the entire state.

After being in the cast for a month, I’m given a boot so I can walk around without the crutches. I figure since I’m a little more mobile now, Dylan will stop coming back each day to have lunch with me. But it still continues, and the way my heart does a little flip flop in my chest when I hear his car in the driveway, tells me that perhaps I’m being a little too dependent on him for company. I only have a couple of weeks left in this cast, so it’s time to become a little more proactive and prepare for my return to the dancing world. I still really want to go to a few open calls to see if I can get a job, so I need to work on my form. I was lucky that my college transfer went through without the need for an audition, but I still have to provide medical proof that my ankle is heeled before they’ll let me begin.

“I have to go out so I won’t be back for dinner. Is that all right with you?” Dylan says, as he stands and clears the burger containers from the table.

I try to hide my disappointment with a laugh. “Why wouldn’t that be all right? I don’t own you.” I stand and grab a sponge to wipe up any crumbs left behind from our lunch.

He drops the containers in the trash and chuckles. “Are you sure about that?”

I turn and face him with a frown. “What’s that supposed to mean? I don’t force you to spend time with me. You’re doing that all on your own.”

He moves toward me, stopping right in front of me as he looks down at me with a smile, his green eyes sparkling. “I know, Rusty. And I love every minute of it. I’ll see you tomorrow maybe. Call me if you need to.” Then he leans down and gives me a kiss on the cheek, and the surprise of it cases me to flinch and suck in my breath, my hand flying up to cover the spot where his lips touched. It’s burning with a heat that sets my heart beating a touch too fast.

When his eyes meet mine they seem a little confused, or perhaps hurt. Oh god, why did I have to react like that? Friends kiss each other on the cheek all the time right? It doesn’t have to mean anything.

I force my hand back down to my side and let out a little laugh before pressing my lips together then rising up on my one good set of toes to kiss him on his cheek (his skin is really soft beneath my lips – I didn’t expect that). “Have fun tonight.”

One side of his mouth quirks in a grin, and his eyes seem to lighten. “I’ll see you later, Rusty. Don’t go throwing any wild parties.”

“I’ll try not to,” I reply as I watch him leave the house and hear his car start up and drive away. Then I stand there all alone, wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do with my time until Josh gets back from work at eleven. I’m not used to being in the house by myself for hours on end.

What the hell was
that
? I fucking leaned in and kissed her without thinking. I was aiming for her fucking mouth, but she turned her head slightly so I got her cheek –
what the fucking fuck?!
And it felt so natural too, like it was how we’re supposed to be together. Fucking. Weird. I’m obviously getting way too comfortable with this chick in my house.
Shit
. And the look on her face! It was as if I was burning a god-dammed hole, right through the side of her face. Jesus, imagine if I had have gotten her lips…
What a nightmare!

I make it to the end of our block, before I stop the car and contemplate turning back around. I think I should probably explain to her that it didn’t mean anything. And it doesn’t, right? We’re just two friends that get along really well. She’s Josh’s girl – she’s fun to be around, and while I find myself organizing appointments around my time with her, that’s just because she’s fun to be around, and it’s kind of my fault she can’t go out and work and make new friends. Plus, I like talking to her. I like getting to know her. Everything comes easy between us, and I like that I can pretty much just say anything and she’ll get it without my having to explain it to her.

But, she’s Josh’s girl… She’s gorgeous, so I’m attracted to her. But then, who wouldn’t be? I even think Roxy might have a bit of a lady boner for her. And the more time I spend with her, the more I get it. I get why Josh is so head over heels for her. Avery is one of those people who draws others in. It’s like her light can feed the souls of those around her. (But who feeds hers?)

She’s Josh’s girl.

My fingers grip the steering wheel, flexing and relaxing, flexing and relaxing. I should tell her it didn’t mean anything. I should tell her I didn’t mean to kiss her – and it was just the cheek (thank god). It didn’t mean anything…

Before I can think about it anymore, I turn the car around and head back home. She has the music turned up really loud. It’s a little distorted from outside the house, but I think she’s listening to Stone Temple Pilots. At first I walk to the door slowly then I remember what she was doing the last time I came home and she was listening to music, and I quicken my pace. She still has her foot in a cast – surely she’s not dancing?

I open the door, my eyes going straight to the lounge area where I found her last time. But she isn’t there. I frown and turn my head the other way and find her standing at the counter in the kitchen with her back to me. She’s standing on her good leg with one of those exercise bands tied between her feet as she moves her bad leg in and out at different angles, kind of like she’s doing ballet warm up exercises.

I stand and watch her for a moment. She moves her arm and head in that same graceful way that ballet dancers do. How does she manage to move like that while doing a simple exercise to rock music?

My eyes travel down her body, pausing on her pert ass, looking snug in a pair of yoga pants as it jumps slightly with each movement. It’s kind of mesmerizing. Until of course, she begins to turn around and I panic (I’m supposed to be here explaining that the kiss didn’t mean anything, and here I am staring at her ass!).

Still standing in the open doorway, I shut the front door with a bang, startling her a little, but at least she isn’t mid-spin this time, so instead of falling and breaking a bone, she turns to me in surprise then smiles when she sees me.

“I thought I wasn’t going to see you until tomorrow?”

“Uh, you weren’t,” I say, looking down at the strength band that has now fallen to the floor. “Is this what you do every afternoon when I go back to work?”

She nods. “Yeah. Well, except for when I go back with you, of course. But yeah, I exercise. I tried dancing but that didn’t turn out so great. So staying limber is the next best thing.” Leaning down, she picks up the green band and places it on the counter before sliding her hand over the top of her hair.

I stand there and look at her for a moment, trying to find a way to start the conversation I came here to have. But for some reason, the words don’t come out and instead I hear myself saying, “Would you like to come for a drive – if you’re not busy of course?”

She doesn’t hesitate. “Sure,” she says. “Just let me grab my purse.”

I wait by the door for her as she hobbles around then smiles at me when she’s ready. I usher her out the door and hold her hand to steady her as she steps down the front stoop and heads for my car. I open the door and hold it for her, as she slides into the comfortable leather interior, being careful not to knock her cast.

“All good?” I ask, and she nods so I close the door for her and walk over to the driver’s side, tossing the keys up in the air and catching them before I slip in next to her and start the car.

“So where are we going?” she asks once we’re heading back down the street.

“To see my grandmother.”

“Your grandmother? I thought she died. Didn’t you say you inherited the house from her?”

I glance at her and smile. “I do have two parents you know. And they had parents too. So…two grandmothers.”

“Oh, that was really dumb. I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking. I only knew my mom’s mom because my parents split, and my dad took off when I was too young to remember. I just assumed because you said you were from a single mother too.”

“Single mom, and an absent dad, yeah. But my dad’s mom is the one who died and left me the house. She was always pretty good to me. She didn’t leave a thing to my dad because she was angry with him for taking off on his family. But my mom’s mom – my grams, she’s still alive. But she’s in a nursing home now. My mom’s always been too busy with her own selfish life. So I make sure I go and visit her every month.”

“That’s nice of you.”

“Is it?” I shrug. “I don’t know. She doesn’t seem to know who I am most of the time. So I wonder if I’m just confusing her.”

“Does that happen a lot?”

“More often than not these days. But, it’s a good visit when she remembers who I am. When it’s not, I just go with it.”

“So you play the part of whoever she thinks you are?”

Glancing over at her briefly, I give her a half smile. “Basically, yeah.”

“There used to be a homeless lady who spent a lot of time on our block. She always thought every one was her daughter.”

“She did?”

“Yeah. I thought it was really sad. I mean, how torturous to see the face of someone you love all over the place but for it to never be them.”

She lets out a sigh and looks out the window at the passing scenery, and I watch her when I can, as if just observing her will help me figure out why listening to her speak, results in a craving pain that resides between my chest and my guts. What is it I want from her?

She’s Josh’s girl.

After driving for an hour, I pull up outside the nursing home and help Avery out of the car, keeping a hand resting gently around her waist protectively to make sure she keeps her balance, and I can easily help her when we have to go up a couple of stairs.

“Dylan!” Katie, one of the caregivers calls out when we walk through the glass doors. She’s in her early fifties with graying brown hair and an ample bosom. She’s small and round with wide hips that she says bore her six children. She always has a smile and a hug for me, saying that I remind her of a young version of her late husband who lost his life over in Iraq, fighting for our country.

She wraps her arms around me as I lean down to give her a hug. Then she touches the side of my head lightly, where I’ve allowed my undercut to grow through enough to conceal the tatts on my skull, and she smiles as I start to roll down the sleeves of my dress shirt. Normally, I wouldn’t hide any of my tattoos from anyone. I’m proud of my profession, and the art I have on my body. And when Grams recognizes me, she’s always interested in talking about my art. But when she doesn’t, the tattoos can scare her, and that’s the last thing I want.

Avery stands by and eyes me curiously as I secure the cuffs around wrists, and Katie brushes out the creases on my shirt. “Perfect,” she says with a smile. Then she turns to Avery with an even bigger smile, and I can see her eyes take in the vibrant color of her hair, the piercing light blue of her eyes and the smooth perfection of her skin. Avery’s presence seems to affect everyone, but Avery seems completely oblivious to it.

“And who is this?” Katie asks, her eyes leaving Avery to return to me. “You’ve brought a girl with you? You have never brought a girl. Is this serious? Should I buy a new dress?”

I laugh and shake my head as Avery does the same. “This is Rusty,” I start before correcting myself, calling her Rusty has become a habit of late. “I mean, Avery. She’s Josh’s girl – remember I told you they were coming to stay with me?”

Her mouth forms an O shape. “Of course. I’m sorry, you just look so lovely together, I just assumed,” she says. “But you know what they say about assuming.” She laughs it off and Avery tells her it’s fine. I slip my arm around Avery’s waist again, telling Katie we’d see her on our way out, and I guide Avery toward my grandmother’s room.

“Grams?” I say quietly, as I push open the door and peer inside. She’s sitting by the window staring out – which isn’t a good sign. When she looks over at me, her face is blank for a moment before recognition dawns.

“Henry!” she breathes, holding out her hands for me to go to her (Henry is my uncle. I never got to meet him, but I’ve always been told I resemble him. He died in a hit and run car accident before I was even born).

A slight pang of disappoint hits me in the chest, before I smile at her and give her what she needs. “Hi mom,” I say, my hand shifting from Avery’s waist to her hand as I pull her gently into the room.

As I lean down to hug her, she looks at Avery and her eyes light up. “Oh! And you brought Natasha.” (I actually have no idea who Natasha is, but I nod and continue on.)

“How are you?” I ask her, pulling out a seat from the small table for Avery to sit on before grabbing one for myself.

“Oh, I’m fine. But they won’t let me walk to the store so I can buy supplies to make your graduation cake. I know how much you like cake. And Natasha, I was going to make chocolate cake – that’s your favorite too, right?”

Avery smiles and nods, then tightens her grip around my hand, reassuringly. “Yes. That is definitely my favorite,” she says, before engaging Grams into a brief conversation about finals and her plans for college. But I don’t really hear too much. I’m too busy looking at our entwined hands. I didn’t even realize I took a hold of her hand again…

She’s Josh’s girl…