A Life More Complete(40)
“How about you? The family?” he asks with caution.
“Still haven’t spoken to my mother, but what else is new. Rachel is good. Works out in Santa Barbara still. Not sure about Maizey. I haven’t heard from her in a while.”
The conversation is easy. We laugh and catch up like old friends, which is what we are now. We are no longer a couple or that couple that ended badly. I almost forgot why we stopped speaking, then it hits me and I have to stop myself from thinking about it. And as we relive old memories, I begin to remember why I loved Tyler.
I reach for my cup and as I do Tyler places his hand on my wrist, once again sliding his thumb along it. His touch does things to me that make my mind race and my stomach flutter. He smiles weakly.
“I thought you would’ve covered it by now,” he says as I lay my arm flat on the table, palm up. He pulls up the sleeve on his right arm to reveal the other half of the tattoo we both bear. He places his arm next to mine and presses against me. Still a perfect match. “I’ll follow you,” on my wrist and “if you follow me.” on his. The words intertwined on both our wrists, his with a perfect yellow circle and mine with a white petal. When connected it forms the last petal left on a daisy. “He loves me, he loves me not.”
“I couldn’t,” I say truthfully. “It meant something then. I guess its explanation is pretty damn cheesy now. Luckily it’s easy to cover.” I try to sound nonchalant, like it doesn’t still mean something to me. That’s the real reason I didn’t cover it. Meaning nowhere near what it once meant, now I view it as a reminder of what can go wrong, how quickly you can lose love, how fast someone can leave your life, someone who meant so much, but now scarcely exists in your world.
“I guess it’s just a reminder of what we once were,” he says.
“Guess so.”
“Any chance you could give me a lift back to my hotel?”
“This sounds like a pick up line, just so you know.” I joke with him and he laughs and says that maybe it is a pick up line.
“No really, I took a cab here and I don’t want to take one back. If it’s an issue, no big deal.”
“I’m supposed to be working, you know, but I guess I could make an exception just this once.” I roll my eyes at him and he smiles at me. I feel like I want to kiss him. I really need to get control of myself. “I need to stop at my office and let my boss know. I’ll tell her we’re finishing up some things regarding Trini’s case.”
Ellie is fittingly absent so I shoot her a quick email while I get my things together. I grab my laptop just in case I decide to head home after dropping Tyler off. Melinda pops her head in as I’m packing up.
“Hey! I’ve been waiting for you. I’m dying here.”
“Hey, Mel. Listen, I gotta run. I promise I’ll call you tonight.” I peck her on the cheek as I rush past.
“What? You bitch! I am so pissed at you right now!” she yells and practically everyone in the office looks up. I smile and blow her a kiss as I head to the elevator.
“I promise I’ll call you. Love you!” I yell back.
Tyler is waiting and he joins me in the elevator as we take it to the parking garage. Elevators are always weird and he breaks the silence. “Do you still have that white Neon?” I start laughing and he looks at me waiting for an answer.
“No, I don’t. That car would have been, like twelve years old. Plus I totaled it a while ago.”
“Darn it. I liked that car. What happened?”
A serious car accident is one of those things you never forget and in the wake of what I was already dealing with at the time it is even more memorable. I can still recall the slow motion movement, the squealing of the brakes as I forced both feet down on the petal. My hands gripped the steering wheel with such force that my knuckles turned white, then bright red. Small shards of balled up glass raining down on me like snowflakes in winter as the windows gave way upon impact. The worst of it though, the air bag dust; an orange powder that left its print and smell on my clothes. Its smell is forever burned into my memory and on occasion I can still conjure it up. I remember turning my head to the side and closing my eyes, bracing for the worst. The air bag slamming into the side of my face burning my cheek and hands as I completely lost control. The car finally coming to a stop in the middle of the road while drivers honked and sped around me. The radio blaring so loudly, as I reached for a knob that was no longer there, nothing to stop the noise. The Velvet Underground’s “Pale Blue Eyes” playing in a continuous loop, a song that no matter where I’m at or what I’m doing still stops me in my tracks.