Somebody Else's Sky (Something in the Way 2)

She took a paper plate from the top of the pizza box and lifted the lid. “How’s pepperoni sound?”

“After sex, a good night’s sleep, and a cigarette, exactly what I need.”

She gave me a slice. “Good,” she said flatly.

“Was it too much last night?” I asked, worried I’d scared her. “You have to tell me if it’s too much.”

She smiled. “It was great. It’s just that we, like, didn’t kiss very much.”

I set the paper plate on the nightstand. “C’mere.”

She leaned in. I took her by the back of her neck and pecked her mouth a few times. It wasn’t enough to thank her for what she’d already given me, but I had to ease into any kind of intimacy. Tiffany and Lake were worlds apart in my eyes, but I couldn’t ignore their physical similarities, and I didn’t want to imagine Lake during this part. Not even for a second. After I locked Lake into another part of my brain, I kissed Tiffany for real, as a boyfriend would his girlfriend.

When she pulled back, I focused on things that were unique to Tiffany, the way her nose turned up a little at the end, or the unusual, icy shade of her eyes. She had freckles, dark little ones around her chest and face, including a faint one that could’ve been a beauty mark.

“This is nice,” she said softly. “I like to see you.”

She didn’t deserve to feel like I didn’t care. I’d have to make more of an effort to show her that. “Thanks for all you did. Coming to the arraignment when you didn’t have to. Dealing with my landlord, the truck, my furniture. I won’t forget it.” She’d gone above and beyond for me. I’d told Grimes to give her my things, but I’d pretty much expected her to turn them down. Instead, she’d stepped up to the plate. “And you can kiss me, you know. You don’t have to wait for me to do it.”

“I . . .” She looked into my eyes. “I love you.”

“I know.” Unfortunately for her, I wasn’t really capable of returning it. I had lost Maddy, my entire family even, at an age when I was learning what love was. Maybe one day, with the right person, I would’ve figured out how to move past that, but not after what I’d seen inside. I was pretty sure I’d never let myself get too deep with anyone now. People were fucked. Life was fucked. If I loved someone, they could be taken away from me at any time.

It was a lesson I’d had to learn twice, and no way in hell would there be a third.

11

Manning

Gary came out of my apartment with a beer in each hand just as I turned off the sander. I’d set aside a couple days to build an entertainment unit for the apartment, but with Gary’s help, it’d only taken us the afternoon. The complex had a large, open lawn by the pool, so we’d set up near the closest outlet. I followed Gary to some chaise lounges from the pool he’d moved under a tree. I dragged mine a few feet over, my back to the trunk, so I could see the whole lawn.

“That didn’t take very long,” Gary said, adjusting his seat next to mine. “Maybe we should keep going. You guys need anything else?”

“Coffee table. Dresser. The kitchen cabinets are shit. You name it, we probably need it.”

“Then we’ll have a beer and do some more.”

I shook my head. “I still have to put the stain on, and I only picked out enough wood for the TV stand.”

Gary shrugged. “Next week then.”

“Hope to have a job by next week.”

“Yeah? What you got going on?”

I sipped beer and looked across the lawn at nothing. I’d been back in the real world two months with nothing to show for it. A part-time position at a garage and a few construction jobs here and there—barely enough to give Tiffany half of each month’s rent, forget food or anything else. “I’m working with my PO, but his caseload is so heavy, he isn’t much help. There might be an opening on a site in Santa Ana. One of the guys got hurt, so I’m just waiting to hear. Problem is transportation. I have to work out the car situation with Tiffany and I can tell it’s getting on her nerves.”

“Good luck, man. I know it’s been tough. I wish I could help, I just—”

“I know.” Gary brought it up all the time. He wanted to help, but his hands were tied. He ran the youth program at the local YMCA and had given me a chance two years ago as a camp counselor. It went without saying that after I’d been arrested at that same camp, I wasn’t exactly a hero amongst parents or staff.