Slow Burn (4 page)

On the train ride to Crystal’s I encountered zombies, witches, and Jedis. Patrick wouldn’t be out of place on his trip to Long Island. Just picturing him in that getup made me giggle. Lately it seemed there was always a giggle on my lips and a smile on my face. Everything between us seemed so easy—almost too easy, but I was determined to stop over thinking it. For the first time I wanted to follow only my heart, and my heart was telling me to do some very un-Chloe like things.

Dirty text messages? Check. The dirtiest thing Lawrence ever wrote me was a note asking if I could pick up his dry cleaning. Making out all over the apartment? Check. Making out in the laundry room? Check. Ok, we were pretty much making out wherever and whenever we could.  It was like being a teenager again. We hadn’t had sex yet and there was never any discussion between us as to why we hadn’t. There was no question in my mind that we would, but I thought things were kind of nice the way they were. It was like the hottest, most prolonged foreplay ever. 

I thought back to something Patrick had said:
Oh, you got jokes.
  I laughed again. It was always adorable when Patrick used urban lingo. I knew he’d picked it up from spending so much time with me. He wasn’t even aware when he said stuff like that. It was cute. As the train pulled into my station I remembered something else Patrick had said:
You’ll dress up next year. I promise.
Did that mean Patrick saw himself in my life a year from now? 

There you go again, Chloe. Over thinking things. Just be happy with the here and now. The here and now is pretty damn sweet.

***

Brianna was happy to see me as I entered the apartment, but she was definitely more excited to leave and begin her trick-or-treating. “Hi, Chloe!” I was attacked by a ball of pink taffeta. 

“Whoa! Look at you.”

“I’m a fairy princess.”

“Yes, I can see that. And a beautiful princess, too.” 

“Where’s your costume?”

“Yeah, where is your costume?” Crystal chimed in as she entered the living room from the kitchen. She was carrying two big bowls of candy in either hand. She was also dressed as a bumblebee.

Had everyone gone crazy?

“I don’t have one! Why would I?”

“Girl, it’s Halloween, that’s why.” 

“Yeah, and it’s for kids.”

“Don’t worry; you’ll change your thinking when you have kids of your own.”

“Doubt it.”

“Scrooge.”

“Wrong holiday, smartass.”

“Oooh, Chloe. You gotta pay a quarter. Right, mommy?”

“What?” I turned to Crystal for an explanation. 

I watched my cousin wobble to the front door, trying to navigate her big bee’s body, and place the two bowls on a table. “Every time I say a bad word I have to put a quarter in Brianna’s piggy bank.” 

“Well technically, smartass isn’t a bad word. I mean, it’s not as bad as, say, ass itself, right?”

“Oooh, Mommy.”

“Fine.”  I reached into my purse and gave Brianna a dollar while Crystal just laughed. 

As soon as we were done taking pictures the doorbell rang. It was Brianna’s friends with their mom coming to take her trick-or-treating. With kisses from both Crystal and me, and instructions to behave and be careful, she was off in a flurry of taffeta and giggles.  After a few minutes of joking around—I had to tease Crystal for handing out miniature toothbrushes and sample tubes of toothpaste along with her candy—the talk turned serious because, well, I just had to ask.

“What’s going on with Jermaine?” 

“Are we going to fight about this?”

“I hope not.”

She sat as best she could in her costume on one end of the sofa and I sat on the other.

“I’m going to let him meet Brianna.”

“Just like that?”

“What do you mean just like that? We’ve been spending a lot of time together and he has a right to be in her life, and I think he’s ready.”

“I’m just afraid that he’s still the same person.”

“Are you the same person you were at eighteen? Listen, I know you love me and Brianna and that you’re concerned, but you have to trust me. You have to trust me to know what’s best for my daughter. I’m scared too, you know. That’s why I need your support through this. Please?”

How could I argue with that? I couldn’t. All I could do was hope that Crystal knew what she was doing, and then be there to help her pick up the pieces if Jermaine proved to be the man I thought he was. Besides, it was pretty hard to have a serious conversation with someone in a bumblebee costume.

“Now, tell me about this promotion.”

“Well, I think it’s pretty much a done deal. The social campaigns we’ve done so far have been successful, and the holiday promos I pitched to
Raven Cosmetics
were approved. Now, if I can just get my replacement trained.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“She requires a lot of reassurance and I have to explain everything three to five times.”

“She’ll get it.”

“Yeah, I’m sure she will. I’m just anxious to get started with my new team and move on to other projects.”

“I’m so proud of you. I knew you could do it.”

The doorbell rang and Crystal wobbled over to it. I smiled as I watched her go. It was nice having her to talk to again. I hadn’t told a soul about Patrick and me and, as I watched Crystal hand out candy and Crest, I realized I was bursting to tell her all about him. So I did.

Patriot Street was the central street in Roman Glen. It ran straight through the center of town, ending at the gazebo that served as an entrance to Roman Glen Park. It was also where you’d find Lots Pharmacy, Mrs. Hudson’s Bakery, the courthouse, police station, and the firehouse where my father served for many years. The annual parade had just ended, but the street was still filled with families in costumes. The parade was a real community-binding event. Local businesses participated with their employees dressed up on floats along with classes from the local schools. It was just another reason I loved growing up in Roman Glen. As a kid, nothing beat trick-or-treating with my friends and then heading over to Patriot Street for music and wonderful food.

Every year my mother set up a booth by the firehouse and sold warm pies. She didn’t always sell them. She used to give them away, but Dad thought she should get paid for her efforts, so she started charging for them: fifty cents. She didn’t do it for the money, she explained, but because she enjoyed doing things for others to make them happy. She liked caring for others. Chloe reminded me a lot of my mother in that regard. It was nice to see that some things didn’t change as I approached my mother’s booth and found her dressed as Betsy Ross and my father as George Washington. She was selling sweet-smelling apple pies. I walked up just as a couple was leaving with two pie boxes.

“See you in church, Marie.” My mother called as they left. She smiled when she saw me. “Patrick, look at you! I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“That’s the idea, Ma,” I joked, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“Hey, son.” My dad gave me a solid pat on the back. 

We talked briefly about the parade and who was wearing what costume. When my mother asked if I’d heard from Charlotte, I didn’t have the heart to tell her the details surrounding our most recent and disturbing conversation earlier that night. Instead I told her that I had spoken to Charlotte and she’d already had plans to attend a party that evening. I knew she was disappointed, but she seemed to take some small relief that someone had at least spoken to my sister and confirmed she was still alive. My father didn’t look as convinced though, and I kept my eyes fixed on the teenagers bobbing for apples in a nearby booth so as not to meet his gaze.

“Have you seen Paul yet?” my mother asked, changing the subject. 

“No. I’m hoping to hook up with him later, though.”

My mother cast a quick glance at my father, who remained silent. “Well, we saw him and his… uh… friend shortly before you arrived. They mentioned going on the hayride.” 

I knew without asking who my mother meant. Paul was officially out of the closet and dating Derrick, the new guy at work. We hadn’t spoken about it much, but I had made Paul promise that he was doing this for him and not because he was being pressured by Derrick. He assured me the decision was all his.

“Did he seem okay?” I asked.

My father nodded and adjusted his tri corner hat. “Your mother made sure to ask him several times.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing to worry about people.” My mother lifted her chin defiantly. “People can be…” She paused, looked around, and then whispered the rest. “People can be assholes.”

“Yeah, I know.” I was thinking about Max, the last person Paul had told before coming out at work. I’d offered to be there for it, but Paul thought it should be a private discussion like it had been when he told me. I hadn’t been able to get many details out of Paul, but he said Max had been angry and Max wasn’t returning my calls.

“I’ll head over to the park now.” I kissed my Mom on her cheek and gave my father’s arm a squeeze.

“Are you staying at the house tonight?” he asked.

An image of Chloe walking towards the door, casting a seductive smile over her shoulder with her hair bouncing and her hips swaying, flashed through my head. 

“No, I’m going home tonight.”

“Well, stop by the house before you go. I have a pie for you and Chloe,” my mother said.

As I walked towards the park I found myself wishing Chloe was here. Costume or not, I wanted to experience this night with her. It was brisk out, but with the air thick with the aroma of spiced cider and roasted nuts, it was impossible not to feel warm all over. I took a deep breath as I walked by booths selling caramel apples and cotton candy. At the entrance to the park, right behind the gazebo, there was a jack-o-lantern carving contest underway. I noticed my neighbor, Fred McCarthy, was judging as usual. He took his job seriously and I felt sorry for the contestants. Mr. McCarthy noticed me too and waved.

I spotted Paul as I approached the line for the hayride. He was in line with a tall, thin man with red hair. They were both wearing dark wizard’s robes with burgundy and gold scarves. Paul was sporting black-rimmed glasses and a fake lighting-shaped scar on his forehead. I greeted Paul with a hug and turned to Derrick.

“This must make you… Ron Weasley?” We shared a laugh and a handshake. I stood in line with them as they waited their turn. We made small talk about the parade, the weather, and my upcoming callback audition. When Derrick offered to go for a refill on cider, Paul and I were able to talk about the giant elephant taking up space in our thoughts.

“Have you heard from Max?”

“Not yet. You know, part of me understands his anger, but there’s another part that’s angry as well. Friends since childhood and this is what I get?”

“It’s going to take time.”

“I know, I know. It’s just that we’ve known each other so long. I’d be lying if I said I thought he’d react like you had, but I didn’t expect this. You think you know somebody and—”

“That’s funny.” The voice came from behind us. “I was thinking the same thing.”

We turned to find Max stumbling towards us, dressed as Buzz Lightyear and unquestionably drunk.