More than Exist(21)

“Aww, that’s so sad,” Ginger cooed through the line. And she was right, it was tremendously sad. “I mean for both of you. I’m so sorry you’re going through this, Belle. I wish I could be there with you.”

“Yeah, me too,” I replied honestly. “I’ll be all right though, don’t worry about me. Hey,” I began, wanting to change the subject and get my mind off the fact that I was currently in Ricky’s bed, and my vodka was locked in the trunk of my car. “How’s everything there? Have you seen Bo again?”

“Nope,” she replied, and I could hear the hurt in her voice. “That’s all right though. I’ll be getting on a bus back to Vegas tomorrow, and Bo and Candy will be a distant memory.”

I could tell she was lying, but understood her need to do so. Hell, I lied to myself a thousand times a day.

“Screw ‘em,” I said, smiling when her laughter floated over the line, just as I hoped it would. “You take care of yourself on that bus, Babs.”

“Shut up!” Ginger squealed, causing me to smile.

“I’ll call you tomorrow when I stop. Goodnight, Ginger.”

“Night, Belle.”

I tossed and turned for a while, then my eyes landed on something hanging from the one of Ricky’s trophies on the dresser in the corner of the room. I threw back the covers and walked slowly across the room. The small piece of jewelry slowly began to come into focus as I moved, and I felt the pain hit my heart as I recognized my necklace.

It was a thin, silver chain, with a small medallion that had my initials carved in the center. It was the necklace I’d been wearing at the club the night Ricky and I met. I thought I’d lost it while we were dancing, but apparently Ricky had kept it as a memento. I reached out and ran the tip of my finger over the letters, as the music from that night played in my head.

I could feel Ricky’s hands on my skin, smell the musk of his cologne, and see his brilliant smile as he told me that he liked the way I moved, and suddenly I couldn’t breathe. I was suffocating in this space and needed a drink, like I needed air to breath.

I grabbed my keys and eased myself out of the room, pausing to listen for any indication that the other women in the house were still awake. Satisfied that I was the only one, I tiptoed down the hall and let myself quietly out the front door, careful to leave it slightly open, to allow myself easy access back into the house.

I looked up and down the street as I padded out to the car. I gently pushed the trunk lid up and dipped my head into the car, struggling to see in the dark as I unzipped my suitcase and rifled around inside.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I felt the cold glass bottle with my hand, then looked around again to make sure I was alone outside, and no one was watching me from the windows. I grabbed the bottle and shut the trunk quietly, then let myself into the back seat of the car and slouched down in the seat.

After a few healthy gulps, I became aware of where I was, and what I was doing, and that realization scared the shit out of me. I looked at the tall clear bottle in disgust as I twisted the cap back on and pressed the back of my hand to my mouth when the sobs started to roll out.

Utterly bereft, I curled up on the back seat of the car and cried until I eventually drifted off to sleep.

A tapping sound roused me from my slumber, and I blinked rapidly as I tried to remember where I was. The first thing I realized was that I was freezing. Chilled to the bone. The second thing I realized was that my mother-in-law was standing outside of my car in her robe, knocking on the window of my car door.

“Holy shit!” I said as I quickly sat up, then winced when the glass bottle fell to the floor with a loud clank. There was no way that she didn’t hear, or see, that happen.

She opened the door and whispered, “Are you okay?”

“Um, yeah,” I muttered as I ran my hands over my hair. My embarrassment was almost unbearable. I scooted down the seat and unfolded myself from the car, keeping my eyes averted, unable to look her in the eye yet.

“Mirabelle?” she prompted, so I took a deep breath then brought my eyes warily to hers.

The next thing I knew I was in her arms, my head cradled against her chest, and she was rocking me softly back and forth. I could hear her cooing that everything would be okay, even as her own grief echoed in my ears. I held on tight and allowed myself to be comforted by the woman who could understand my loss completely.

We stood that way for a few moments, each of us offering support in the only way we knew how, then Ricky’s mom said, “Let’s get you inside and warmed up, Bella.”

Eager to get myself into a hot shower, I agreed.