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Rock Candy Kisses(11)

By:Addison Moore


It's cold out, bitter, icy to the bone kind of weather that threatens to  turn your limbs into icicles before snapping them in half. I never was  good at dressing for the weather with all those layers and jackets. I'd  feel like a scarecrow that's just been stuffed when my mother shoved Ben  and me out the door. God, I miss her. I can trace every shit thing  that's happened in my life back to the day they put her in that casket.

Olivia is already seated inside when I arrive. Her fingers dip happily  into a pink box, and, judging by the size, she went for more than a  dozen. She's dressed in a black and white polka dot coat with a giant  red bow pressed into her dark cherry died hair. For as long as I've  known her, Olivia has been perfecting that rockabilly look-winged  eyeliner, bright red lips, the victory roll in her hair when she can  nail it.

"Hey-you look beautiful," I say as she stands to greet me. Olivia is  pretty, not stunning like Annie, but she can make just about anyone look  twice despite her growing belly. "Look at you. God, it's been two  weeks, and you're out like a torpedo."

"First one-they say you show later. I'm just glad it's still in there  for the ride, you know what I mean?" She growls out the words like maybe  she's kidding. We've been down this road before, so I don't say  anything. Olivia has had her fair share of scares. She pulls me into a  tight embrace. After the funeral, Olivia and I clung to one another for  far too long, and I was worried we might fall back into old habits. It  would have been easy, me with Olivia again, but, thankfully, Annie  showed up, and the fleeting thought left me. I was never into Olivia  like I should have been. We were using one another, trying to see who  could hurt each other the most, and, now, there's a baby who will be  here by Christmas. The list of tragedies in our story seems never  ending.

I take a seat across from her. "So what's the news? Baby doing good?"

"Too good." She moves a little slower adjusting herself with a look of  general discomfort. "Everything's on track. I'm over halfway through,  and it still feels like I've been pregnant for two years. And before you  ask, no I haven't smoked one damn cigarette." She shoves a donut into  her face as retribution.

"Good. I don't want those cancer sticks near you or your baby."

Her eyes narrow in on mine as she slows her chewing. She washes down her bite with the opened carton of milk in front of her.

"This is your kid, buddy." Olivia doesn't blink. This is poker. Me  against Olivia, and we both know the hands we've been dealt. "That's the  deal, remember?"

A dull laugh huffs through me. "That's the deal." I promised to raise  this child on my own, and I intend to. Olivia isn't exactly gunning for  mother of the year even in this early stage of the game. "When the time  comes, I'm there for the both of you." I pull out a wad of bills from my  pocket-what would have been my rent. "Just like I'm here for the two of  you now."

"If our track record persists, given enough time, you'll end up breaking  both our hearts." She flicks a finger in the air. "We both know you're  the heart breaking type." Her lips invert, and for the first time since  the funeral, I see a modicum of pain in her eyes. "You ever think about  you and me?"                       
       
           



       

"Yeah, I have." I reach over and take up her hands in mine. "Look-um,  there isn't going to be a you and me." I try to dish the words out as  tenderly as possible. Olivia has been known for her mood swings, but her  hormones have transformed her into a nuclear missile ready and willing  to detonate on command. It happens regularly, but I'm never ready for  it.

"What do you mean, sweet pea?" She spits the words out laced with venom.  There's a look of vengeance brewing in her eyes. "I need you, babe. You  loved me once, you can do it again." She leaves out the part about  loving me, and a tiny smile cinches up my cheek. That's Olivia all over.

Despite her cold, black heart, I was hoping she might find it in her to  love this baby. Every child needs a mother, and, deep down, I was hoping  Olivia could rise to the occasion. As much as she's professed this  child as a curse, I'm pretty sure once it arrives and she sees it for  the angel it is, the curse of pain in her life will be broken.

"Olivia, look at me." Her eyes sail from one corner of the room to the  other as they swell with tears. "I'm not the one for you. I can never be  who you want me to be. I wouldn't even want to try."

She runs her fingers over my left arm. "That's not what your body says."

Olivia was with me after the funeral when I got my body mapped out to  match my brother's. She held my hand for five hours straight as I  gritted through the pain, and I very much intend on returning the favor  when she goes into labor.

"My body is a tribute to Benji. You and me together would be a lie."

"You made promises, Blake."

"And I intend to keep them."

Olivia sets her gaze dead ahead as tears slide down her face. "I want  your name on all the legal documents once the baby is born."

"What?"

"You heard me. If you intend to keep your word, you'll step up in the  exact way you said you would. I don't see why you shouldn't do that."  Her gaze drifts to mine with the dare.

"All right. I'll do it. You realize that you'll be surrendering that  child to me legally." Not that I object. In fact, in a strange way, I  feel a sense of comfort. In the back of my mind, I was half afraid she'd  pick up one day and disappear with a piece of my beating heart.

"Oh, honey"-she gets up and dusts the crumbs off her lap-"consider  yourself lucky that I'm not taking you down much more colorful legal  avenues." She scoops up her pink box and flicks the empty carton of milk  with her finger. "Who knows? You might get more than you ever dreamed  of in your Christmas stocking this year." She stalks off in her  shockingly high heels, her pantyhose with the sharp black line up the  back.

Holy crap. She's batshit. I dig my palm into my eye a moment. I can  really pick ‘em. I get up and take a breath before heading back out into  the cold, bleak world. Annie is an improvement in my taste in women by  miles.

Annie-just the thought of her puts that goofy grin right back on my  face. I wonder what she would think of Olivia. It's probably best the  two don't mix. Olivia would eat Annie for breakfast, quite literally at  this point. But if I want Annie in my life, she'll have to know  eventually. I suppose the truth is always inevitable in the end.  Unfortunately, for me, this truth ties me to Olivia for the rest of my  days.

Sometimes the truth is a bitch in red heels.



* * *



Three days go by without seeing Annie. It's painful, and the world  slowly reverts to its tortured state without her. As it stands we're  only seeing one another after the shows, and, since the band performs  just a couple of nights a week, that limits it to less time than my body  demands. No performance at the Black Bear equals no Annie, so I head  over to campus and straight for the Student union    . One of the guys  from the frat I've inadvertently taken residence with is working behind  the desk. He's got his funhouse glasses on, the ones that look as if  they're pixilated. His hair is dyed black with a blue tint right along  with his eyebrows.

"What's up?" I nod trying to seem inconspicuous. "A friend of mine left  her lens cap behind, and I sort of need to get it to her. I don't have  her number. You mind telling me her schedule? I think she mentioned a  photography class." It's true, Annie left her lens cap behind at the bar  last Tuesday, and I know for a fact she's losing her mind trying to  find it. If it were anyone else, I would have simply given it to the  bartender-one of her brothers. But it's not anyone else, it's Annie, the  girl who occupies my mind 24/7 and brought a well-needed balm to my  heart these past few weeks. It doesn't change the fact that losing Benji  still hurts like shit, but she sure numbs the sting.                       
       
           



       

"Lens cap, huh?" He takes it from me a second. "I know that one. It's a  pricey camera." He starts hacking away at the keyboard. "What's her  name? I'll tell you where to find her."

"Annie Edwards," it rolls off my tongue, and I want to laugh or smile  like a fucking loon for the hundredth time today. Annie is like a drug I  haven't taken a hit off of for a good long while, hell, ever. I slap my  hand to the back of my neck and wait as he tracks her down. My body  heats up because I can feel time closing in the gap between our last  meeting and the next.