Unbelievable (31 page)

I grabbed the umbrella I kept in my backseat and climbed out. The spare tire, tucked
tightly
in the trunk, took forever to free. Men! If women designed cars, tiny nooks and crannies for huge things like tires would be outlawed.

I finally gave up and let the wind have my umbrella it so desperately wanted and embraced the rain. Like it mattered anyway.

The jack was tucked into an even smaller cranny. After several hard tugs it broke away from its tiny prison, propelling me backwards with its unexpected freedom. I landed on my butt…in a puddle of mud. I reached up for the tree, which hadn’t done a thing to block the rain, and grabbed a low-lying branch to pull myself up, only to slip in the mud and crash back down into the same puddle. The tree branch broke my fall…as it snagged the rear pocket of my new capris, ripping it off. I now had a gaping hole in my pants. “Well, at least I have clean underwear on, mom. Thanks for the advice,” I shouted to the heavens.

I fiddled with the jack, trying to remember exactly where to put it, and wishing I’d paid better attention to Ms. Voigt in
driver’s ed back in high school. After what seemed like forever, I found the spot, hopefully, and wedged it into place, pumping rapidly on the black handle. Slowly, very slowly, the car rose up off the ground. I had to stop several times to brush back the dripping hair from my face as the rain and wind tossed it about. When the tire cleared the asphalt, I distinctly heard Ms. Voigt say, “You must loosen the lug nuts before jacking up the car or your tires will spin, and the nuts will not.”

Frustrated, and with a loud rush of air from my damp lungs, I lowered the car back down and grabbed the tiny star wrench from the trunk.

I strained to free the lug nuts, no easy task, jerking and tugging for several minutes before remembering the
secret formula
for freeing a nut. “Lefty loosey, righty tighty.” I’d been trying to loosen the nut by turning right. I readjusted my position, and with a hearty tug
left
finally freed the first nut, and then quickly unscrewed all but one, slipping the greasy suckers into my pocket to keep from losing them. My pants were a complete waste, what did a little grease matter at this point? I tugged and pushed and even sat on the jack’s handle, but the last nut would not break free. I even tossed the wrench at it in desperation, but nothing.

Completely exasperated now, I again heard the instructor
’s voice in my head. “Remember, only loosen them, don’t remove them or you will put pressure on the other nuts and they will not come off.”

I dropped onto the bumper, and considered crying as I watched another two diesels drive past me on their way to the spaghetti
sauce factory, never stopping to help a damsel in distress. Was chivalry completely dead?

Resigned, I dragged my muddy butt off the bumper and replaced the lug nuts, loosely this time and pumped the car back up.

With the car now back in the air, I removed the stupid nuts completely, again. I wiggled and tugged on the tire before it broke free of …whatever you call the stupid stems I’d unscrewed the lug nuts from, and the tire dropped to the ground … slipping halfway under the car, wedging under the axel. It was stuck. I now had to raise the car several
more
inches so I could pull the tire out. My energy and my anger towards my father were completely gone. My clothes were soaked clear through and my hair hung in long twisted ropes around my face. I slid down onto the front bumper, buried my face in my hands, and this time, I cried.

I debated whether to call a tow truck as my tears mixed with rain, but my internal debate was brought to a screeching halt by a deep male voice. A deep, all too familiar, male voice.

“Of
all the rains storms, in all
the towns,
in all the world
,
you break down in mine.”

“Go away, Booker. I don’t need your help.” I didn’t bother looking up.

“One should never look a gift horse in the mouth,” he chastised.

“More like a horse’s—” My insult was cut off by a passing diesel as it hit its obnoxious air break.

The next thing I knew, an umbrella was thrust into my hands. Booker finished changing the tire in less than two minutes. Grrrr. He put the jack and damaged tire in the trunk before holding my car door open for me as I slid in. I handed him the umbrella.

“You disappear like that again,” he said, his tone menacing, “I’ll throw you in jail where you can rot until your precious Daddy shows up.”

I shrugged, thinking to ask him on what grounds, but decided I didn’t care.
I just didn’t care
.

He turned and jogged back to his POC Mobile and drove off.
I didn’t understand that man. I pulled away from the curb and cranked up the radio, full blast. Christina Aguilera and Blake Shelton were belting out a powerful duet about being fools.

The story of my life anymore. 

Chapter 26

Cole

I went to my bedroom and sank onto my too-small bed as thoughts of Lilah flooded my brain. Never in a million years would I have thought it possible to love someone so fiercely, which made her lies that much more painful. I reached down to the floor and turned on the small clock radio, frowning as my feet dropped off the end of the twin bed. “Why can’t they make beds longer? Would it really cost that much more to add a few inches to the length?” I grumbled as I cranked up the volume to hear above the rain beating on my roof.

Soon I was lost in a duet song by. . .  I have no idea who, but they certainly nailed my mood.

Keep it coming ‘til I don't remember at all

How bad it hurts when you're gone

Turn the music up a little bit louder

Just gotta get past the midnight hour

Maybe tomorrow it

Won't

Be

This

Hard

But
who am I kidding

I know what I'm missing.

“Isn’t that the truth,” I grumbled to the ceiling. Lilah’s betrayal hurt me to the point of physical pain. Regardless of that, I knew I’d forgive her. I’d passed the point of no return. No way could I live without her.
I turned on my side, almost rolling off the small mattress, and punched the pillow against the pain constricting my chest. My head hurt again. It was the third headache I’d had since my blowup with Lilah.

“Man, I miss her.” Her laugh, her exuberance, her . . . everything. What’s not to miss? “Enough!”  I slammed my hand down on the radio, silencing the singing as
the girl belted out about being a fool.

Yup, that’s me. Just a stupid fool.
I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the ache wrapping around my head. I could only take so much pain in one day.

**

“Where is it?” I closed the last cardboard box in my living room and shoved it into the corner. I couldn’t find my Shakespeare book given to me by my grandfather. I remembered seeing it when Lilah redid my office, only I’d already looked there.

Lilah was front and center in my mind yet again. I lectured myself a million times, saying if I wasn’t careful, I’d lose her. The pain still ate at me.

Giving up on finding the book, I went and took a shower. Ten minutes later I stood in front of the half-fogged mirror shaving and grumbling to my reflection. “Maybe it’s more than the lies that bother you, Opie?” I’d toyed with that idea ever since walking out of her apartment. I tossed the towel into the sink, frustrated.

Dressed in my scrubs . . . again, I padded barefoot into the kitchen in search of something edible.

“Sour milk and moldy cheese.” I shoved the fridge door shut and pulled out a glass from the cupboard. I’d have to settle for water. Warm water. The thought made me even angrier.

Through the kitchen window I watched Maggie turn into my driveway. I downed the disgusting lukewarm water and set the glass in the sink as she came in through the side door, arms loaded down.

“Let me help you with that, Maggie,” I said, stepping toward her as she screamed.

“Cole!” She scurried against the door. “You scared me. I thought you were at work today.” She set my scrubs on the counter.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I was doing some cleaning and found a few sets of scrubs at the house. They’ve been washed.” She nodded toward the stack and grinned. “Didn’t want you running around the ER naked.”

“Follow me,” I said soberly.

We went into my bedroom and I showed her my closet. There hung at least fifteen pair of blue scrubs, very neatly, on hangers. The only other pieces of clothing were a pair of jeans from high school and two t-shirts, also from my high school days.

I pointed to the jeans with my chin. “I’m not even sure those fit since I haven’t tried them on in over eight years.”

“Oh,” was her response. What else could she say, except maybe ‘Cole, get a life.’

“I heard you and Lilah are redoing your trailer,” I said as we walked into the living room, barren except for a tattered futon. I sat on one end, Maggie sat on the other.

“It looks
great already. Lilah’s beyond brilliant. They’re delivering the furniture tomorrow so we’re taking a break today.”

“How did you get furniture delivered so quickly?” It took four days to get my desk delivered.

“Booker, how else?” She sighed heavily.

“Let me guess. He’s trying to hurry it along, limiting your time around Lilah.” She nodded, her eyes tightened. “How does Seth feel about you working alongside her?”

“Let’s see. He’s hired someone to follow me around, and we’ve had
heated discussions
about it every night.” She threw her hands up. “I’ve talked to him about her until I’m blue in the face.”

“So you believe her story?” I leaned forward.

“Yes. I was a little leery at first, but not anymore. Too many things point to her telling the truth. Seth thinks I just want to trust her because we’ve developed a friendship, but that’s not true.” She looked at me in earnest with those big blue eyes of hers. “I know this isn’t scientific, and you’re a man of facts, but in my heart I feel she’s being honest. I’ve seen the pain on her face, too. She misses you, and she’s afraid the two of you are through.”

I got up and paced to the window. A grimy film covered them, testifying how seldom I came here. Until now. I needed the emptiness the space provided. I needed to think.

“I told her we weren’t through, I just needed some time. I still love her,”
heaven help me
, “but I’m tired, Mags. Tired of everyone taking advantage of me. Tired of being gullible ol’ Cole. No. Gullible ol’ Opie. She’s not the only one who’s taken advantage of my easygoing nature either. The other doctors dump their obnoxious patients and their rotten schedules on me in the ER. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had Christmas off?” I turned to face her. “Maggie, I’m tired of living like this. Tired of being everyone’s go-to guy. Mr. Reliable. The calm in the storm. I’m also tired of being taken advantage of . . . lied to . . . used.” I shook my head.

“She loves you, Cole. I agree that her motives weren’t exactly pure in the beginning—” she started.

“You think?” I said, the bitter edge of sarcasm tainting my voice.

“But why did she do it? Lilah hoped to break away from her dad. She didn’t want to live like him. Besides, he told her it was only about money. As soon as she found out he’d lied, she told you immediately.”

“Maggie, you’re preaching to the choir. I know she’s not like her father, but I’m angry. And hurt. I’m also disgusted in myself more than anything. I let statistics and common sense rule my life.” I stormed across the room. “I know that’s why I get these stupid little injuries all the time.” I pointed to the bandage on my arm from who knows what. I didn’t bother keeping track anymore. “I’m too busy living in my head, thinking about an interesting surgery I’ve seen, or reliving a challenging case from the ER.”

“You were raised with facts and numbers, Cole. It’s only natural you’d live by them. You’re a kind man, and sometimes others take advantage of that. I’ve seen them do it. Especially . . . what does Lilah call him? Dr. Lazy Butt, right?”