The Silver Lining (4 page)

“Good luck out there. I guarantee you in less than a week, you’ll be begging to come back, basically down on hands and knees. Nobody wants you, James. Your reputation is tarnished beyond repair.”

I looked at her and shook my head, before storming out of the room. I was worked up and headed toward any door that could blast me out of this nightmare. My brother was leaning against the entry door. He tried to grab my arm and stop me. I pulled away, purely out of anger. My heart was beating fast, and my mind was spinning out of control.

“James, don’t do this.”

“Do what?” I yelled.

“Don’t handle the situation like this?”

“What other choice do I have? To be quiet, to sit back and be a good boy. I’m not you, Chad. I’m sorry, but I’m not. She’s not a good person. When are you going to see that? When are you going to open your eyes?” I exhaled so hard it caused my chest to hurt.

“She’s not perfect, but she didn’t deserve that thing you pulled at the table, and frankly neither did I. Is it that obvious? Being gay,” he asked calmly.

I nodded.

“Look, I’m not apologizing. It’s time you stop being so scared of her. What are you afraid of, that she might cut you off too, or that she may disown you because you’re gay? This is your life, start taking charge or she’s going to run it forever.”

He looked at me and opened his mouth, but just as he was going to speak my mother entered the room. She stared at me with a look that I will never forget.

“I have to go, man. Take charge,” I said, and put my hand on his shoulder before exiting the house.

I walked down the driveway empty handed with whatever money was in my pocket. At least I had a job. I started working at the bar tomorrow, but it would be a while before I could afford an apartment. I became depressed thinking about all the nights I may have to stay at shitty ass motels until I rebuilt my life. Riches to prison to rags. Classic fairy tale story. Me and my big mouth. I couldn’t help it though. My mother drove me crazy. It was too late now, so I kept on walking forward. After a while it felt as though I had been walking for miles and miles toward the wrong side of town. I didn’t even know how long it took me to get there, but my feet stopped in front of a strip club called Kitty Kats. I looked up at the neon sign and had one thought. What the hell was I doing here? I didn’t need to spend money I didn’t have on these chicks. I didn’t need girls teasing me for ass I wasn’t going to get. I convinced myself one drink and then it was off to the motel to bed down for the night. I walked in to see a brunette on stage shaking her ass to some hip hop song. She was pretty, but I wasn’t here for her. She smiled as I walked by. I quickly looked away. You would not be getting my money sweetheart. Stop trying.

I headed for the bar and ordered a beer, which eventually turned into six beers, two shots, and a margarita. My stomach was turning by the last drink. Why in the hell did I drink all that? During this depressing solo drinking festival, I think I was propositioned for a lap dance from just about every girl in here, and with each passing hour it got harder to say no. I still watched them though. I watched them with hungry eyes. Passing up on titties and ass grinding on me, after being locked up was hard, but most of these girls were a mess. Not my thing. I finally decided it was time to leave. I got up and walked, or should I rather say stumbled outside. The cold breeze hit my face and suddenly I didn’t feel like puking anymore. The lights were blurry and I couldn’t read any signs for shit. I should call a cab, but I didn’t want to waste any more money. Screw it. I didn’t need a cab. I could do this. There was a motel just down the road. I saw it walking up here. All I needed to do was to walk as straight as I could down the street. If any cops picked me up like this I was seriously fucked. I was supposed to go see my parole officer tomorrow. I didn’t need a public intoxication issue causing a problem. This could set me back, way back.

I was half way down the street when I heard my name being called out. I looked over to see a beat up, old, blue Camry slowly driving next to me. I squinted my eyes to see in. It was useless.

“Mr. King, are you okay?” a female voice asked.

I stopped for a moment and then walked closer to the vehicle. I leaned down and stared inside.

“It’s you. Are you stalking me Ms. Emily Rose Monroe?” I asked jokingly.

“No. I was on my way home and recognized you. You do stand out, ya know.”

“How so?” I asked now leaning my elbows on her car door.

“You’re shirtless for one, and your walk is a little questionable at the moment.”

I looked down. What the hell happened to my shirt? Did those girls take it off in there? Did I take it off in there? I chuckled and then looked back to her.

“I plead the fifth on the whereabouts of my shirt.” I smirked. “Am I really walking that bad?”

“Yeah. Get in. I’ll take you wherever you want to go. Unless you have a ride?”

“Is this car even safe to travel in?” I tapped the roof of her car expecting it to crumble.

“You can get in and find out, or you can walk your drunk ass to your destination.”

“Good point,” I said, as I climbed in and sat down.

“Damn, how much did you have to drink?” she asked, as she rolled her window down.

“Too much, obviously. I haven’t drank like that for a while. My tolerance is pretty low after being in…” I stopped short of saying the word prison.

She stared forward. “Did you just come out of that strip club back there?”

Shit. This makes me look like a douche bag, and a pervert and desperate. All I could do was nod.

“Typical man. Gets out of jail and finds a strip club and liquor.”

“It’s not like. I just wanted to…” Wait. I didn’t need to explain myself. “Never mind.”

“Where am I taking you?”

“The Palm Inn. It’s straight down this street on your right side.”

She didn’t say anything. She didn’t look at me. She just drove. Phase two of being drunk was kicking in. It was the part where you could barely keep your eyes open. I started to drift off a few times, but the jerkiness of her driving would snap me out of it. We finally arrived at the motel. She cut the engine and jumped out of the car. I climbed out of my side, falling hard against the car. I steadied myself.

“You good?” she asked. There was concern in her eyes.

“I’m good,” I responded. “Thank you for driving me here. I appreciate it.”

“Can I ask you something personal, Mr. King?”

“It’s James.”

“Okay, James.”

“Yup.”

“I overheard your mother and brother talking. You have access to all this money, but you choose to walk away. Tell me what makes somebody do that?”

“I don’t know, Emily. What makes a girl drive a guy she barely knows to a motel in the middle of the night?”

“It felt like the right thing to do, I guess.”

“Exactly,” I slurred.

She smiled and nodded like she understood.

“Do you want to give me your money, and I can check you in. You probably shouldn’t go in there like that.”

“Can I trust you?” I joked.

“The better question is will you trust me? Not can you.”

Damn, this girl. I didn’t know if it was her voice, her energy or just her, but I was standing there smiling like a fool. I pulled out my money and handed it over to her.

“You trust me with all this. There has to be at least three hundred dollars here.”

“I trust you.” We exchanged a look. “Get me a room for a week if you can,” I added.

She looked at me as if she was contemplating something. She walked over and stuffed the money back into my hand.

“Get back into the car.” It sounded like a command.

“What? Why?” I questioned, as she opened the passenger door, stuffed me inside the car and locked me in.

I had no idea what this chick was doing. I watched her run around the front of the car. She climbed into the driver’s side and looked at me.

“You need a place to stay for at least a week, right? Maybe Longer?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“You need a place. I need money. You can stay at my place and pay me the money instead.”

Is she kidding? Stay with her. Hell yeah. If I’m lucky, it will be in her bed. I threw that last thought out of my head. Blame it on the alcohol.

“Um, Yeah I guess that will work,” I replied, as I tried to maintain a coolness on the outside.

“Great! You get the couch though.”

The couch. The freaking couch. Ugh. At least I’d be by her, near her. I’m close to her now. Why was I even thinking these crazy ass thoughts? I closed my eyes, hoping to clear my head. Somewhere between the motel parking lot and her home, I fell asleep. I was woken by a soft hand on my cheek.

“James, we’re here.”

She helped pull me up and out of the car. She grabbed my arm and walked next to me. I looked around at the area. I was pretty sure this was one of the poorest neighborhoods I had seen in a while. She lived in a small apartment complex, maybe ten units or less. Emily jiggled her keys inside of the lock and pushed open the door. She basically shoved me over to sit on the couch once we stepped into the place. Her apartment was actually nice inside. I wasn’t sure what I expected. It was very cozy. This was something I was unfamiliar with. Nothing about my mother or her home screamed cozy. I watched her walk back and forth doing whatever she was doing. At one point she brought me a blanket and a pillow.

“Okay, goodnight,” she said, as she turned to walk away.

“Emily, why are you really doing all this?”

“Again, It feels like the right thing to do.” She paused. “This is unusual for me to do this, but there is something different about you, James King. Not to mention again that I do really need the money.”

“You don’t even know me.” I shrugged.

“I know what I saw, and what I heard at your mother’s house. That’s all I need to know, right now.”

My heart felt as if she had pulled it out, and stuffed it back inside of me. What is this girl doing to me? She gave me a half smile and turned to walk out of the room.

“Night,” I pushed out. My voice was barely audible.

I laid down on the couch and let the memory of her voice soothe me to sleep. I was now spread out on that thing, with one leg thrown over the top of the couch. I was comfortable. I was relaxed. I was safe. At least for now. Minutes passed, hours passed. Shoot, it felt like days had passed, but it hadn’t. I didn’t know how long I was sleeping for. I just knew it was pitch black in the room, when the sound of crying woke me from my rest. I jumped up, rubbed my eyes and looked around.

For a minute I was shaken. I didn’t know where I was. I wasn’t in my tiny cell, and everything around me looked unfamiliar. I had to remind myself that I was out of jail, and staying in a stranger’s home. I walked down the hallway toward the noise, and stopped in front of the cracked door.

“You don’t think I know she’s dying, Gabriel. I’m doing the best I can. I’m working double shifts just to get money over there.” I quietly stepped in closer.

I peeked through to see Emily sitting on the edge of her bed with one hand up to her ear. Her elbows rested on her legs. She wiped the tears from her eyes, as she listened to the other person on the line speak.

“I’ll send some more when I get paid. Tell her I love her.” She paused. “Bye.”

She started to weep hard, I mean really hard as soon as she hung up. I took a step forward to open her door, but I didn’t want to intrude. This was really none of my business. I turned around to walk back to the couch, but I couldn’t just leave her in there crying. I quickly swung around again, and to my surprise, she was standing there. Her cheeks were wet and her eyes were sunken in with worry.

“I wasn’t eavesdropping. I was looking for the bathroom,” I blurted out like an idiot.

She pointed down the hall. I nodded, and walked as fast as I could. I felt like a little kid that had got caught spying on their parents. Once inside, I shut the door and leaned up against the back of it. Curiosity was killing me. Who was dying? Why was she crying and what was the money for? Do I ask her? No. No way. That’s prying. Whatever she was going through was personal. If she wanted me to know, she’d tell me. After doing my business in there, I slowly opened the door, and quietly walked back to the couch. Her bedroom door was shut and there was no sign of her. The apartment was dead quiet, and as bad as I wanted to go knock on her door, I didn’t. I laid back down and after a million things ran through my head, I went back to sleep.

The sound of pans being tossed into the sink woke me. The smell of eggs wavered about and it smelled delicious. I sat up and rubbed my eyes. Once again, I had to remind myself where I was. This would take some time. I looked over into the kitchen, to see her standing there with her back to me in what had to be the shortest shorts I had ever seen. If I didn’t have morning wood when I awoke, I did now. She was arranging food on two plates, and it was the funniest thing I had ever seen. She was moving the fruit around and lining up the toast, so that it sat at an angle. It was obvious that she wanted to impress me by the effort she was making. I don’t think she knew that she could have heated me up a frozen waffle, and I would have liked her just as much. I cleared my throat to get her attention.