Page 29 of Reaching Hearts

Chapter Seventeen

Brendan

Women: transparent. Me: not blind.

Rebecca’s playing a losing game.

Isaw her watching him make the rounds. I saw her beaming at him when he singled her out for a glass of wine when everyone else gets beer. And I sure as fuck saw the two of them being very cozy when I walked in on them last time she was here. Rebecca’s the closest thing to a girlfriend since Sara. I let her in more than anyone else and even though she wants more, I’m giving her a lot.

What she doesn’t know is that I’ve been toyed with by so many women since I joined the single life that I have learned over and over the tricks they play, and it’s made me jaded. I’ve had my texts go unanswered, followed by My battery died. It happened too often for me not to figure out that they were doing it to act hard to get. I’ve also found necklaces left on my bedroom floor when we were never in there, dropped on purpose to scare the next girl off. I’ve woken up to look at my phone and found it not in the same place I left it. I put a password on it from that point on. I’ve even been told I impregnated a girl when I know I didn’t. I calmly asked for a paternity test, got slapped, but found out eventually what I already knew – that I wasn’t the daddy.

So when I saw her and Tommy together, I thought he’s trying to win her away from me to piss me off, and she’s eating it up to make me jealous. I was over it. I sent her on her way and didn’t call, text, or email. But then it was almost six months and I didn’t hear a word. If she wanted to manipulate me, she would have done something. But she waited for me to come around and that took me by surprise. It made me rethink my silent treatment.

Watching her talk to Margaret, I think about my philosophy, tuning them out. Many women are like Rebecca. They’re good human beings who just want to be loved. But it takes awhile to decipher which category they fall into – Good or Bat Shit Crazy. I treat the good ones very well, take them out, hold their doors, and compliment them on their best qualities – always honestly. But I’m not willing to settle down because I don’t see the point. And I haven’t found THE woman. I don’t think she’s out there, and that’s how I consciously live my life. I don’t understand why everyone wants to pair off. I’ve yet to find a woman who makes me think of her long after I’ve left her. There was this one girl after college who smacked some sense into me, literally, about respecting the women I sleep with. Between her and Mark, it stuck. And respect includes letting them go when their feelings become involved to the point where they could get hurt. I can’t remember her name, which is ironic, but I think of her sometimes… but it’s a blur, really. I remember her saying “idiot,” and us yelling at each other. I also have a vague image of her looking at me like I hung the moon before I realized she was drunker than drunk underneath all that makeup. But it was a long time ago and there’ve been a lot of faces and voices since then. And she moved to Italy, so why remember? But sometimes she comes into my mind...

Why am I even thinking of her now? I’ve lost my train of thought...

Oh yeah. Rebecca knows where I stand and she puts up with it. So I realized I was being a jerk by not talking to her. Sometimes it takes me a second to see when I’m doing that. I missed her. And I needed to spend time with a woman who knew me a little better than some of my regulars and some of my fly-by-nights. So I called her yesterday and asked her to come to the game on a whim – completely forgetting that Tommy would be there. I didn’t think that far ahead.

I thought by fawning all over her and faking that fucking meeting on a Sunday to get her alone, that he was just trying to get under my skin, which is his favorite sport. But today, something about the way he looked at her, struck me as weird. She was standing by the cooler, drinking a bottled-water. My baseball hat that she had borrowed, shielded her face from the sun most of the time and her hair was pulled back in a long, low ponytail. But then she bent her head back to drink the last of the water. The sun hit her face and I looked over at him and he was watching her, too. I couldn’t blame him; she’s beautiful. But it was the look I saw on him that floored me. He was in awe and he glanced my way fast, and then looked embarrassed. Tommy NEVER looks embarrassed. He could do the shittiest thing and still look like he meant to do it and ain’t it grand. I’ll be damned if I let that scumbag get his slimy hands on her. I know him too well, and I respect her too much.

I look over at her chatting with Margaret, and she looks happy and animated. The waitress drops off a glass of red for her and an empty pint glass for me.

“The pitcher’s over there.”

“Thanks.” I turn to listen to Rebecca.

“We’re working with girls around the world, helping them sell what they make, from blankets to chocolate through hats. Global Girlfriends empowers them with an online store to sell what they make to the world so they can pull themselves out of poverty. When before they had only a village to sell to, when the rest of that village was usually also poor. With limited funds, you can’t buy what’s being made so it was a vicious circle of poverty that’s now being eradicated by selling their skills on a global scale. It’s incredible!”

Margaret is all ears. “How can I help?”

I kiss her on the shoulder. “Can I interrupt for a second?”

She turns. “Um, hold on Margaret. Yes?” Her eyes are bright and energized by the discussion. She looks happy.

I take her hand and look at her fingers in mine. It’s taking some doing to say this. “Let’s add you as my emergency contact person. I can’t trust Mark for shit anyway. What’s he going to do, sit by my bedside and read to me?” I chuckle.

Her eyebrows go up just a little, but she covers her surprise quickly. I see it, of course. I always see it when she does that. “Okay, good. I’m glad you think that’s a good idea, too. I’ll give you my landline as well, just in case.” She smiles.

I bring her hand up and kiss it. She’s pleased and turns to Margaret again, but the moment definitely distracted her. That felt good to do.

I don’t want to be paranoid. I’m better than that. I want to trust her. She’s earned it.

---