“I’m sorry I’m such a science project, that you have to try to figure me out. That first drunk phone call should’ve served as a warning. You should just run for the hills. I’m a weirdo.”
He wasn’t laughing at my attempt at self-deprecation. “Don’t say that shit, Rana. You’re not. You’re no more fucked-up than I am. And at least you own up to the craziness you do exhibit, unlike all the fake-ass people I encounter out here on a daily basis.”
About a minute of silence passed as we resumed just listening to the ocean sounds. I heard him flick his lighter again.
Great, I was stressing him out.
I was pretty sure I’d be lighting up right about now, too, if I smoked.
There was one more present left. He hadn’t said anything about opening it. Closing my eyes, I listened to the sound of him inhaling and exhaling. I could practically smell the smoke. My nostrils tingled just from imagining it.
“What’s next in the box, Landon?”
“I’m not sure if you want the next thing.”
“Why? What is it?”
The playful tone from earlier was gone. “Well, it’s getting cold out. If you were really here, I’d want to wrap my arms around you. But I’m not sure if that’s something you would be comfortable with, because I don’t really know what the fuck this is between us. So, if the answer is yes, that you would want me to hold you…then open it. If the answer is no, then I’m going to have to ask you not to.”
I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I would want to be in his arms. I just didn’t want to admit it, because feeling this way about him scared me.
But I needed to know what it was.
“Yes. I would want that.”
“Open it, then.”
Inside package number six was a black, hooded sweatshirt. His sweatshirt. It looked like the one he described himself wearing tonight. The material was really heavy. I brought it to my nose and took a deep breath in. It smelled like cigarettes and cologne. His scent was everything I imagined it to be. I was smelling him.
“Well, I always knew you were the type of man to give me the shirt off your back…”
“Put it on,” he insisted.
“Okay,” I whispered. I started to shake a little as I pulled it over my head.
He waited for a bit then said, “Feel me wrapped around you. Smell me. Close your eyes, and just be with me.”
My eyes began to slowly fill with tears because this was the most real reminder yet of exactly what I was missing. I truly felt like a part of him was really with me, and this gesture was even more intimate than his showing me the photo of himself because it was as if I could feel him for the first time.
Each tear that fell represented the regret pouring out of me, regret for not only my past mistakes but for what living in fear was causing me to miss out on right now in the present.
SHIT SHOW
It had been eating away at me.
When my father joined me for breakfast the following weekend, I took the opportunity to tell him about Landon because I needed to know if my parents had lied to me all those years ago.
“Papa, do you remember the Roderick boy—Landon—from the garage apartment on Eastern Drive?”
“Oh, yeah. What about him?”
“Well, I’ve reconnected with him. We’ve actually become friends again.”
My father slowed down his chewing for a moment then nodded once. “Oh. That’s good.”
That reaction actually surprised me. I was expecting him to be mad.
My eyes widened. “You’re not upset? I thought you always said they were bad people.”
He shook his head. “No. Not the boy. The father he have-a crazy eyes, but the boy’s a good kid.”
“Well, he told me something different from what you told me about what happened. He said you and Shayla left without paying the rent—that we were not actually kicked out.”
My father stopped cutting the pear and put the knife down. “We no-have money for rent, but they no-kick us out.”
“You lied to me?”
He hesitated then said, “Yes.”
“I never even thought to question you on it. Why did you lie?”
“Your mother. I move to get her away from that boyfriend. But she no-leave him anyway. I no-mean to hurt you, Ranoona. I lie because of Shayla. So sorry.”
“You could’ve told me the truth. I wouldn’t have ratted on you to her. I understand why you did it.”
My father looked truly remorseful. “I make a lot of mistakes with you. Big mistakes.”
Even though I hated that he lied to me, I just couldn’t be mad at him. “You did what you felt you had to. I’m sorry for making you feel guilty, but I just wish I knew the truth because I held it against Landon for many years.”
“Where he lives now?”
“California.”
“He come see you?”
“No.”
“Why, no?”
“Because it’s better this way. You know I don’t date.”
He frowned. “Makes me sad.”
It was interesting how things had changed. My father used to forbid me from hanging out with boys as a teenager. Meanwhile, I would sneak around behind his back. Now that I was older, he couldn’t pay me to go out with one.
“Why does it make you sad, Papa? Don’t you want me around you forever?”
“You no-get married, I move in.”
“Stop threatening me.” I laughed.
Still dressed in my work outfit, I lay on my stomach during my nightly phone call with Landon.
“I owe you an apology,” I said.
“Why?”
“You were right.”
“About what?”
“About my parents. They did lie about being kicked out of the garage apartment. Well, my father did.”
“Oh, that’s all? I thought you were gonna let me see your face, for fuck’s sake. You had me all excited.”
“Sorry for the false alarm.”
“How did you find out the truth?”
“My dad admitted it to me. Apparently, he was just trying to get my mother away from her boyfriend, so he felt he had to lie and make it seem like we had no choice but to leave.”
“Did you tell him about me?”
“Yes. He seemed oddly happy that we’ve reconnected. He’s probably felt guilty about disrupting our friendship all those years ago.”
“I always liked your dad. He would yell a lot for no reason, and I couldn’t always understand him when he spoke fast, but I could tell he was a good guy. I remember he drove us to the mall once in that shit truck he used to drive.”
“Yeah. And we ran into my mom there later that night with her boyfriend. Remember?”
“Yeah. How could I forget? That was fucked-up,” he said.
“I remember that night. After we spotted Shayla, you tried to make me feel better by buying me gumballs and one of those teenybopper magazines from Walgreens with the money you made from cutting the neighbor’s lawn. Mrs. Sheen was her name. I couldn’t stand her daughter, Kelsie—the blonde girl. She used to vie for your attention. I remember feeling very competitive with her.”
There was a long pause before he said, “Then I probably shouldn’t admit that after you moved away, Kelsie and I dated for two years.”
My heart felt like it nearly stopped. “What?”
“Yeah. She was my first girlfriend and my first...” he hesitated. “Well, you know.”
The room felt like it was spinning as a surge of jealousy coursed through me.