Between Black and Sunshine (19 page)

I never thought I’d be here, in this place in my mind, where I’m willing to give life another chance even though I know that Jude will never be a part of it again. I think I’m willing to live because I have some serious reconciling to do. Maybe once I do that I will be able to give it all up again. But for now, I’m on a mission to right my wrongs.

Tonight’s my first assignment. The easiest one by far; apologizing to the people who, for the most part, have already forgiven me. The three people who didn’t give up on me and who still consider me a friend. I appreciate them now- Rake, Anthony and Clara- like I never have before. Without Jude, they are all I have and I’m grateful that they haven’t disappeared.

I’ve been busy tonight, cooking for them. I’m trying to make an effort, to give them something tangible to prove that I love them. Rake sits at the counter giving me shit about how beautifully I move around the kitchen, how good the pasta smells, asking me where I found the recipe and if he can have a copy. I ignore his smart ass because I know that this is the closest he’s going to get to showing me that I mean something to him.

The most emotion Rake has ever shown me was after I beat the shit out of Anton. He made his distain very evident. He stood above my lame, half-dead body, yelling at me about all of the mistakes I’ve made. How I was a worthless piece of shit. How he was out a quarter of the rent because of my selfish ass. How it should be my ass out on the street, that I was the one who deserved to be punished. He yelled all of this at me under the assumption that I was dead to the world – unconscious. But I heard him. His speeches always ended with a quiet confession.
I don’t mean that,
he would mutter,
I just want you to get better. I don’t want you to go. I didn’t even like that tightwad, Miles. Just don’t die on me, bro.

The pasta, bread and salad are on the counter along with an open bottle of Merlot for Clara, but she and Anthony are late. Rake and I chew on bread and drink our beer. I was planning a group apology, because I’m a pussy and I knew I couldn’t handle any one on one intimate shit, but I’ve never had the closure with Rake like I have with Anthony and Clara.

“I know you don’t want me getting all soft on you or whatever, but I have to say my peace.”

“As long as you don’t start crying,” he tells me.

“I don’t want you thinking that I don’t realize all the shit you’ve done for me. I don’t want you believing that I’m unappreciative, because I’m not. You were my first friend here, and I appreciate you letting me live here with you. This place has been my first real home. You’re the closest thing I have to a brother. You’ve always been straight with me, you’ve never been afraid to let me know when I’m being an asshole or lay it on me when I’m out of line and I appreciate it. I need that.”

“Don’t worry, man. I will always be here to kick your ass.”

I laugh. “Seriously, Rake, if you hadn’t been there to pull me off of Anton, who knows what could have happened. You saved his life and you saved mine too. I feel shitty about Miles. I know that he bailed on his rent because of me. If you need me out of here, I understand. He shouldn’t have had to go ‘cause of my stupid ass.”

“Shut the hell up, Luca. You know shit is easier without his uptight, veggie-loving ass around. Plus, he’s happier now with his own kind. You should have seen him the other day with Jimmy and Jackson… all of them in their preppy little getups. Jackson was wearing a goddamn sweater vest. Miles was the coolest guy in the group, I shit you not. You did the guy a favor.” He’s laughing to himself, but when he stops his face becomes hard. “You should apologize to him though, when you’re up to it. But I wouldn’t trade you for him in a million years. And that‘s the truth. I’m just glad you’re doing better, man. I didn’t like seeing you that way.”

“I appreciate it. And I will… apologize to him.”

“Good. That’s the right thing to do.”

Rake and I finish off our beers and eventually Anthony and Clara come sauntering through the door and I’m not even mad that the pasta is cold and the wine is warm. Shit doesn’t piss me off like it used to.

“Luca has ulterior motives tonight,” Rake announces to them. “He’s hell bent on apologizing and confessing his love, so don’t even bother with the greetings and the salad, just let him get his shit out first so we can get on with the night.”

He’s rude, but I don’t mind - this apology shit is uncomfortable. “Clara, thank you for making me that delicious shake and scrubbing my bed-ridden body. Anthony, thank you for dragging my ass out of that bed, talking some sense into me and sending me Rose. I’m sorry for the gigantic fucking messes I make. Thank you for cleaning them up and forgiving me. I don’t know what I would do without you. You guys are all I have and I love you.”

“Ahh, Luca… shut the hell up you emotional bastard.” Rake slaps me on the back

“You know how much you mean to me, Luca. You don’t owe me anything,” Clara whispers in my ear, her arms wrapped tightly around my neck.

“Hey man, I’m just happy you let us help you,” Anthony says, slapping his hand across mine.

Once the apologies are done, the four of us sit down and eat our dinner and it’s nice. It almost feels like we are a family. I kind of feel content.

When dinner’s done Anthony and Rake head to the TV to get their gamming on but I stay in the kitchen with Clara. She seems different today, better than she has been since her store opening. I know that my jackass behavior has been the reason for her melancholy but I’m pretty sure I’m not the reason for this mood shift.

“What’s going on with you, Clara?” I ask her, dead serious, so she knows I’m not looking for a
not much
response.

“What? Is it obvious?”

“Is what obvious?” I ask, unable to keep the smile off my face.

She looks to the floor and then back at me. “Jesus, this is going to sound so crazy,” she warns me.

“Tell me. I want to know what’s making you all cute and happy.”

“There’s this… girl.”

I raise my eyebrows at her. “What are you talking about? You made a new friend?”

“Yeah… I guess. She just kind of walked into my life – into the store. It’s really no big deal, I just can’t stop thinking about her.”

“What do you mean, some girl just appeared in your store, did a little shopping, and that made you happy?”

“No, she doesn’t shop there. The first time she showed up I thought she was just some kid off the street who was trying to pants the merchandise. She walked in there with this crazy look on her face, then she disappeared behind that awful wrought iron thing Mary displays her necklaces on…?”

I shrug my shoulders at her.

“Anyway, after she left and I realized that she hadn’t taken anything I felt awful for assuming it. I judged the girl - who gives a shit, right? Why would I even care? But I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I just kept wishing I would have talked to her before she left. In retrospect, the way she looked at me, with such focused intent, it felt like she had come there to see me. Like she needed help or something.

“And then the other day, she showed up again. I could have sworn I had locked up for the night, but then when I left the back room to head upstairs… she was standing there, right in front of me. She was looking at the makeup so I offered to give her a makeover.”

“A makeover?”

“Strange, I know. Normally I would have asked her what the hell she was doing in my store after hours and kicked her out, but there was still something about her. I started putting makeup on her and… it felt good. It was weird, Luca. I’ve never really touched a girl, but I touched her eyes and her lips and it was strange, it felt good.” She stops then, her eyes on the verge of closure as if she’s looking half at the girl and half at me.

“And...?”

“I asked her if she wanted to come upstairs and look through some of my old clothes. She’s beautiful but she was wearing the same dirty clothes she had on the first time she came to my store. I thought she could probably use them.”

“Wait, you brought some girl off the street into your apartment?” Clara is weird about her personal space.

“Yeah, I did. In the back of my mind I was actually thinking about offering her a place on the couch and a few hot meals. Suddenly I’m all Mother Teresa. She does something to me, I can’t explain. I thought I just wanted to help her; that I felt sorry for her and bad about the assumptions I had made, but as I sat with her and talked to her, I could feel my mind shifting. I talked about all the assholes in my life, you included, and she told me how she had just gotten her heart broke. I had this strange urge to tell her that I would be there for her. I had this overwhelming desire to wrap my arms around her.”

“You didn’t did you…. Tell her you would be there for her and wrap your arms around her?”

“No, of course not. I was still aware that that would be weird. But I kept staring at her lips and remembering how thick and soft they were as I dabbed lip gloss on them. I wondered how it would feel to kiss them, and I guess I got a little handsy with her. I couldn’t help it. I needed to see what her hands felt like, if her leg was really as small as it looked, if all of her skin was as soft as her face, what her hair felt like running through my fingers. I could tell it was making her uncomfortable, but I had to touch her. I wanted her, Luca.
A girl.
I wanted to drag her into my room and kiss every inch of her skin. Oh my god… did I just say that out loud?”

“Yeah, you did,” I say with a disbelieving laugh. “What the hell? I didn’t realize girls are your thing?”

“They’re not. I mean, they never have been. But god, Luca, if you saw her eyes and her lips… they do something to you.”

I can’t help but think of Jude. About Jude’s fat lips and her intense kaleidoscope eyes. “So what happened?”

“Nothing. We talked and hung out for a few hours and then I got up to use the bathroom and when I came back out she was gone. I felt shattered, it was so strange. I mean, besides you, I haven’t been hurt by someone since Tanner, but the fact that she had left me made me feel broken. I was drunk…. whatever. But I can’t stop thinking about her. It’s so weird, Luca. Every time the door opens I look, hoping it’s her.”

“That is weird, I gotta be honest. A girl, huh?”

“God, I don’t know,” she mutters, shaking her head. “Who knows if I’ll even see her again.”

“I don’t know how you women fall in love with us assholes in the first place. It’s a great thing to fall in love with a soft, warm girl.”

“Jesus, look at me,” Clara says, holding her arm out. “You’re giving me the chills just talking about it.”

“Sounds like someone’s reconsidering the ‘L’ word.”

Clara just smiles at me.

Clara falling in love.
A girl
. Maybe that’s Clara’s answer - a homeless girl with the soft lips. I can’t help but laugh.  Life is so fucking strange.

As the night winds down and I’m alone again in my room, I think I should feel damn good. Better than I have for a while at least. I made things right with the people who love me and they forgave me. I even had fun with them. It felt good to do something right for a change. I should feel good.

But tonight, hearing Clara talk like she’s falling in love, I realized I will never feel that way again. I will never fall in love again. I’m going to live the rest of my life alone because I will never love anyone but Jude. But Jude, for the first time in my life, is one hundred percent gone.

I am Luca, without Jude.

I came home from Clara’s feeling confused, empty and dirty. I forced myself into her life, made up a fake name, lied to her and listened to her talk about Luca and how much she loves him.

I can’t stop wondering what Luca would think if he knew what I had done.
I’m sorry, baby. You shouldn’t have been dragged into this mess. I’ll take care of it. I’ll make sure she never bothers you again.

I hate myself. I’m disgusted with myself. I feel sick and vile.

Yet, I can feel myself being pulled back to Clara just so I can feel him, just so I can hear her talk about him.

She is so twisted. Completely pathetic. She needs to stay out of their lives and let them be happy.

The voices left me for two days, I almost forgot that they were ever there. But then they came back to me, reminding me that I am an awful person. I want to run from them. I want to go to her. I want to feel a piece of Luca. I want her to tell me that he’s doing better, but that she thinks he may be in love with someone else.

She is so blind.

I stand under the street light, my back pressed up against the window of the bakery next to Neighbormade. I tell myself to go, to forget about Clara and Luca, but as I inch my way closer to the door it feels like I don’t have any control over my feet.

I look at her through the door as she sits behind the counter. She raises her head and squints her eyes and a smile comes over her face.
Oh god
.

She rushes out from behind the counter and winds her way around the display tables, coming to me. All I can do is watch like I’m just a spectator and not her destination. Her face is inches from mine, a panel of glass separating us. She pulls the door open, the chime is so much louder than I remember. Ear piercing.

“Blanca!” she says, grabbing a hold of my arm and pulling me inside of the store where the lights are so much brighter. I feel her arms around my shoulders, clinging to my back for a moment before she releases me. “You came back,” she says as though she had been waiting for me. She secures the locks on the door and turns the sign from “open” to “closed”.
I am not a customer
. “Why did you leave the other night without saying goodbye?” she asks, talking a hold of my hand and walking me to the back of the store.

“I didn’t feel so well all of the sudden. I guess it was the wine.”

“We were plastered. We won’t do that tonight,” she tells me, like we have plans, like she knew I was coming, like we had set this up days ago.

She brings me around the counter. “Let me just get the computer shut down and then we’ll go upstairs.”

“Okay,” I manage to whisper.

I watch her as she hurries to finish up her work. Her eyes flash to mine every few seconds and she smiles.

When she’s done she grabs a hold of my hand and leads to me the stairs. I follow her up, listening to her red high-heels clicking loudly and watching her white linen pants flow back and forth with each step she takes.

Clara turns the lights on in her perfectly cute apartment and I look for any changes. Any signs that Luca has been here. All I see is Clara. All I smell is Clara.

“Are you hungry?” she asks me. “I was thinking about ordering a pizza. We could watch a movie and just chill out. One bottle of wine at the most,” she says, smiling at me as if we share cute little jokes together.

I manage to smile back at her. “That sounds good.”

“Perfect.” Clara takes out her phone and begins to dial.

“Can I use your bathroom?”

“Of course,” she tells me. “It’s the second door on the right.”

I make my way down the hall and into the bathroom. I lean against the closed door, sucking in breaths, trying to get a handle on the situation. I shouldn’t be here.

But then I look at the pink and black bathroom and I’m seeing Luca. I see him in the tub with her. I’m sure he’s been naked in that tub. Before I realize I’m doing it, I have a drawer open and I’m digging through it. I find a tube of mint Chapstick, Luca always has mint Chapstick. I’m sure it’s his. I’m sure it fell out of his pants as he threw them on the floor before joining Clara in the tub. She would have picked it up the next day, after he had left, and put it in the drawer for him. There are three tooth brushes in the holder on the counter. One pink, one red and one yellow. Is the yellow one his? I pick it up and bring it to my nose, trying to smell his breath on it. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror.

She is so creepy, if Clara only knew what she was doing in there.

I notice that the mirror has a small latch. I push on it and it opens. I look through the medications lined up there, sure one must have Luca’s name on it. They are all prescribed to Clara. I open up the blue packet of birth control pills.
You’re on something, right?
I hear Luca asking and the pills drop form my hands.

“Blanca, are you okay in there?”

Shit
. “Yes,” I mutter, tuning on the water and putting the pills away before shutting the mirrored door on the cabinet.

“I’m going to get changed, make yourself comfortable on the couch.”

I run my hands under the water and dry them off with a soft, black towel. As I turn to open the door I see that there is a black silk robe hanging on it. It is covering a larger, white, terrycloth one. God, he wears a robe when he’s with her? I’ve never seen him in a robe. A gift probably, from her. One that he wears to make her happy.

I walk out into the living room, staring down at the couch that she told me to get comfortable on. I sit, teetering on the edge and wait.

When Clara comes back she’s changed- into a pair of red, silk pajamas. They pants cling to her legs. The buttons on the top aren’t covering her cleavage. She’s taken her hair down and brushed it until it shines. “Much better,” she tells me, walking over to the television that sits on top of sleek, black console. “Do you mind watching an old movie? It’s about all I have,” she asks, turning to me.

Of course it’s all she has, that’s all I imagined she would have. Someone like Clara doesn’t waste her time watching things made after 1959. “That’s fine.”

She puts the movie on then comes to join me on the couch. She smirks, I assume at my stiff posture. I don’t look as she curls up beside me. “You’re going to get a cramp in your back,” she says, pulling on my arm until I relent and slide back next to her. “Are you scared of me?” she asks, catching me off guard.

“Scared of you?”

“I won’t bite, I promise. I didn’t mean to be so touchy with you the other night. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, that’s just who I am, and the wine didn’t help.”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind,” I tell her.

She tilts her head and smiles at me. “I’ve been thinking about you since you left. I’ve been hoping you would come back.”

I think that’s odd, but I’m not sure anymore, so I don’t say anything.

“I feel connected to you somehow. I want to take care of you and make you feel better… like you make me feel.” She smiles lovingly at me, her hand strokes my hair. “I wonder if it’s because I see some of myself in you. The younger me; the one who was naive and got hurt. Maybe I’m just trying to protect you. God,” she laughs at herself, “am I freaking you out?”

“No.”

“You don’t give much away. I went on and on for hours about the shitty men in my life and you never said much of anything.”

“I agree with you,” I tell her. “Men are shitty. They are careless and mean.”

She runs her hand over my hair then down my arm. “Are you sure you’re okay? I really have been worried about you.”

“I guess. It’s just that… the things you just said to me… I do feel safe here. And happier than I am when I’m alone. I didn’t think you’d want me to come back here, I just couldn’t stay away,” I say sweetly mostly as Blanca, but partially as myself too.

She smiles hugely at me then latches her arm with mine and pulls me closer. “You can always come here, Blanca. I like having you here. And don’t worry, sweetie. We’ll have you forgetting about that asshole in no time.”

We sit back on the couch and I relax. Just her presence, just knowing that I’m not alone, makes me feel better.

She unlinks her arm from mine and rests her hand on my thigh. Gently, she runs her fingers over my jeans. She’s staring at the movie, but I’m staring at her hand.

When she touches me if feels strange. I’ve never really been that comfortable being touched. Only by Jonah, and eventually by Luca too. Clara’s touches feel alien but in a way they’re also comforting. Her touches are always so gentle, like she’s just skimming the surface of my skin. I don’t remember ever feeling that. Maybe it’s because she’s a woman. Maybe I only know the touch of a man. Even my mom’s touches were always strained and too hard. She never hugged me or held me absently. It was always laced with stress. But Clara’s touches aren’t like that.

I hear her laugh at what’s happening on the screen and then I can feel her looking at me but I’m still staring at her hand. “Are you watching the movie?” she asks me.

“No,” I admit.

“Is that bothering you – my hand on your leg?”

I look at her now. Her eyes are gentle. I can see the fear in them too. “No,” I whisper. “It feels nice.”

“Yeah?” she asks, her other arm shifting so that her fingers are covering mine. She holds onto my hand loosely and I hold back, amazed at how small her palm feels wrapped in my fingers. My hand probably feels the same to her. For a moment I see myself like I used to be – before Jonah left me. I think about how small I used to feel, how breakable I felt when Arnie would look at me. It occurs to me how strange it is that men are naturally so much larger than women. How that would naturally make them feel in control. Then I think about how Clara and I are equals. Similar, even. Broken girls who seem to need each other.

“Yeah,” I eventually answer her.

She smiles at me and I smile back at her. She moves closer to me and I don’t move away even as I realize that she is about to kiss me.

When her lips rest on mine I close my eyes. Her lips seal mine and I can feel myself kissing her back – reacting to the motion. It feels nice – it’s soft and gentle and comforting like all of her touches. Her lips part and close on mine again and mine do the same.

It’s not until I feel her tongue slide between my lips that I realize she’s kissing me. Kissing me like Luca does. It occurs to me that’s the kind of kiss she thinks we’re having. I pull back from her and I instantly feel ashamed. I can’t look at her eyes.

“That was nice,” she whispers. “You have beautiful lips.”

My eyes flash to hers then. She’s smiling at me. I don’t know what to say to her. I’m wondering now if I misunderstood. She’s with Luca. I’m a girl. Maybe I misunderstood. “Thank you,” I tell her. She cocks her head at me like she’s waiting for me to say more. “You have nice lips too.”

She laughs. “God, you’re sweet. Do you know that? I don’t know how any guy could ever be anything but good to you. How anyone could ever want to make you feel anything but pleasure.” She leans forward and kisses me again. This time it’s just a quick peck. She turns back to the TV and snuggles into my side. She brings my hand that she’s holding onto her lap and rests our hands there, next to the hand that’s still running gently over my thigh.

My thoughts are racing now, unsure of what to make of this situation. My concern has shifted and I’m not as worried about intruding on her and Luca’s lives. Now I’m concerned about how I feel like I belong here. How much she is intruding on my life. How I’m going to have to let this go and be alone again. With just the voices in my head.