Come To Me (Owned 3)

“Look,” Lenny said when I jumped at her touch. “We don’t have to watch this movie. We can watch Aliens if you want. I know that’s your favorite movie. I promise I won’t make any stupid commentary this time.” I thought about the stick in the drawer, the goddamn alien limb.

“No…” I scooted back against the bed. “No, we can watch your bullshit musical.”

Lenny tilted her head and scrunched her eyes at my response, but started the movie anyway. Music filled the room and I was glad for that, not because it was good—no, it was pretty fucking awful—but because she wasn’t watching me. The fucking test felt like it was burning a hole into my gray matter.

Pregnant with our child.

When Lenny left to go make the popcorn I’d never gotten to, I swiftly texted Grace: I need to see you. Grace and I had started texting more, had started getting to know each other or some shit. It was easier to talk with the screen between us. A few seconds later she responded with, Is everything alright?

I’ll tell you when I see you, I quickly replied. Are you free for lunch tomorrow?

I’m working. Can it wait? Could it wait? Yes. Did I want it to wait? No. I stared at Grace’s words on the screen. Lenny’s shadow moved about in the hallway. I had seconds before she returned.

Yes, I punched out. When are you free?

I can meet you after work, around four.

“Who are you texting?” Lenny asked, sitting back down, popcorn in hand.

“Grace.” I quickly shoved my phone away, as if I was the one with the secret. Old habits, I guess.

“I think it’s nice that you two are getting to know each other.” Her words were innocuous, but they hit me in the chest. It wasn’t going to happen overnight, but I thought we were making an attempt to get to know each other—really know each other. Yet tucked away in the drawer was a stick that proved otherwise.

Grace and I talked in the same café where only months ago Alice had made me watch Lenny through her phone. It seemed to be where we ate all of our meals and did all of our serious thinking. There were other places to eat in Santa Barbara, probably other places to ponder too, but none of them had better fries.

Also, Lenny was right about not being able to go back to a restaurant after you get come on their seats. No matter how much you pay them, they still won’t let you back through the doors. Still, it was worth it to fuck her in that bathroom.

“I thought we’d moved past all of this,” I said to Grace. Earlier that morning Lenny had gotten up for work, kissed me, and said nothing—fucking nothing about the baby. It was literally a lie between us as we hugged, and she said nothing.

Grace sighed and reached for a fry. “You faked your death. That isn’t somethin’ a few conversations can fix.”

“It’s been over a month since we…” I struggled to find the right words for what Lenny and I had done. Had we moved on? Not really, not in the eyes of most therapists, sane persons, or the otherwise mentally intact. But we’d, well… “We’ve been doing well. I guess I just thought we were moving forward.”

“You are,” Grace insisted. “For someone as smart as you, you can be real dense, ya know?” I ignored the jab; call it a perk of being my sibling.

“So what, I just wait until she’s about to pop before I bring it up?” Or, shit, maybe she was planning on terminating it. I stabbed my steak at the thought. It was her body and her choice, and all that shit. Still, if she did decide that, I would have liked to be there with her.

The thought of her going to a clinic without me had me stabbing my steak again.

“No…” Grace sighed again. “You keep showing her that you’re gonna be there. You provide comfort. You provide a situation in which she feels like she can talk to you.”

“Yeah.” That sounded good, like something a counselor would say. Lenny and I never really got along with our counselor though. I glared out at the ocean, suddenly hating how deep it was.

“Are you listening to

me?” Annoyance tinged Grace’s voice.

“Yeah.” I was listening to her, I just didn’t particularly like what she was saying.

“Don’t push it Vic,” Grace warned. “If you push this, you might lose her forever this time.” I looked away from the ocean and back to Grace. Lenny had once said that even though we were adopted, she could see the similarities between us starker than day. I couldn’t see it physically: her dark hair framed even darker eyes and a drastically pale face accentuated by a few freckles. I was Japanese, and that shit didn’t come with freckles or a pale face. If I really thought about it though, I guess I could see it in the eyes. She was pinning me with those eyes, almost begging me to argue.

I acknowledged her warning with a shrug, leaning across the table to steal one of her fries.

Grace and I finished our meal and I went home immediately after. My head was swirling with everything she’d said. I wanted to confront Lenny. I wanted to get our shit out in the open, but I really did believe Grace was right.

Lenny and I had a fucked up history. In general, we were pretty fucked. On paper, nothing was right. Sometimes off paper nothing was right. As a couple, we shouldn’t have worked. For some reason, though, we did, and I wanted us to keep working. That meant putting aside selfish shit like my emotions and focusing on Lenny.

Who was having my baby.