Pieces of You(13)

She steps inside and gazes around. Her twin bed is still covered in the lilac comforter and white pillows. Her shelves are still stacked with dozens of fantasy novels. I haven’t even upgraded the ancient desktop computer on her desk. Everything is the same.

“Maybe I shouldn’t have come here,” she whispers.

“Just brush your hair and we’ll get out of here.”

She takes a few tentative steps toward the white desk and sits down in the rolling desk chair. She slowly pulls open the top drawer on the right and pulls out a purple brush. I can’t help but feel nostalgic as I watch her run the brush through her soft, blonde hair.

I can’t stop myself as I spin her chair around and place my hands on her knees as I kneel before her. “I know that everything seems awkward and fucked up right now, but this is your home. Whether or not we’re together. Don’t let that Christmas shit make things weird. You know my mom is just being pushy.”

“It’s not awkward or fucked up and I think that’s what’s getting to me. I expected it to be weird, but it’s not. It’s just… home.”

She looks me in the eye as she says this so I know she’s telling me the truth. I want to kiss her so fucking bad that my whole body aches for it, but I can’t. Claire is not the cheating type and I don’t want to be the source of any more of her misplaced guilt.

“Hey, I know you’ve seen me play a million times, but I’m doing this jam session with Neil Hardaway at a blues club in Durham a week from Saturday. It’s the final stop on this ‘Home Sweet Home’ tour Xander set up for me. I know you have a boyfriend, but it’s fucking Neil Hardaway. You know this is a dream of mine and I’d love to share it with you.”

The pained expression on her face tells me she’s about to let me down. “I can’t. I’ll be with Adam that Saturday. I’m sorry.”

Just hearing his fucking name come out of her mouth, the same lips I’ve kissed for hours, makes me want to punch something. I take a breath to calm myself because this isn’t like me. Only Claire can get me this worked up.

“Don’t apologize,” I say as I let go of her knees and stand up. “Come on. We gotta get going.”

We make it downstairs into the hallway where I open the door to the attached garage and flip the light switch. The stale smell of gasoline and rubber is stagnant in the late summer warmth. She enters ahead of me and immediately walks toward the Porsche.

“Where’s Mr. Miyagi?” she asks, referring to our old Shiba Inu.

Mr. Miyagi got to go to Japan with me in April before he passed, but he was almost thirteen years old. He lived a long life.

“He’s gone.”

Claire looks like she’s about to cry.

“Don’t cry. Please. You’re gonna make me cry. I’m just starting to get over it.”

She bites her lip, trying to hold it together. “I should have been with him.”

“He died in May. I was with him. He went peacefully. I even took him to the dog park that morning. He just laid there real quiet, but he was smiling.”

She covers her face. “Oh, no,” she whimpers as she shakes her head.

I want to pull her into my arms, but I’m afraid she’ll push me away. I give her a moment to compose herself. Finally, she pulls her hands away from her face and looks at me with pure hurt in her eyes.

“We have to get going.”

She glances around the garage at my car and my mom’s Volvo for a moment before she steps down and makes her way toward my car. “You got a Porsche?” she asks incredulously as she gazes at the shiny, black hood. “Could you be any more flashy?”

“Hey, I don’t spend money on a lot of shit. I don’t even have an apartment in Raleigh. Let me have my cars and my bikes.” I make my way to the driver’s side of my mom’s Volvo. “We’re taking the Volvo. I have to at least pretend to be responsible.”

She tears her gaze away from the Porsche and we both climb into the Volvo. We sit for a moment in silence as I slide the key into the ignition and adjust the radio station.

“Pretend to be responsible?” she says. “But you are responsible, Chris. You don’t have to pretend to be anything. I’m the one who should be worried about looking irresponsible.”

I open my mouth to refute this when my phone vibrates in my pocket. “Hold that thought.” I slip the phone out of my pocket and see Tasha’s name. “Hello?”

“Chris, I’ve got bad news.”

I let out a deep sigh because I already know what she’s going to say.

“They backed out?”