Page 31 of The Significance of Moving On

Five times she brushes the palms of her hands down the lap of her dress, smoothing it out. Four times she bites into a breadstick when he actively asks her a question. Three times she pushes a nonexistent stray hair behind her ear or nibbles at the polish on her thumbnail. Two times she laughs nervously to fill the void. And exactly one time, she looks up, locking eyes with mine. I feel the weight of it reverberate through my heart. She breaks contact first, staring down at her plate of pasta. A plate she spends the rest of the dinner staring at instead of maintaining eye contact with her date.

I, of course, can’t pry my eyes away until he stands from his chair to walk over and help Tally stand, helping her into her jacket. I push from my chair and head for the restroom to splash water on my face.

When I get back, Spencer is long gone. I don’t even know the moment she left. Did she call a cab? Did she even say goodbye? I can’t remember a thing my date was wearing but I can’t forget Tally. How screwed up is that?

I pay for mine and Spencer’s drinks and then follow the beautiful couple out of the restaurant. Able, with his tailored, single breasted suit and shiny silver Jeep, perfectly complements the vintage quality of her dress, her shoes, her hair, justher. Once I see her safely to the car, I jump in my rusty truck and gun it in the opposite direction.

It’s shit. All of it. Me. The fact that Tally’s out on a date with some other guy. I’m going to tell her. I have to. Maybe D will let her move in after she runs screaming from my place. I pull the phone from my pocket to dial Tally’s number intent on giving her an explanation for tonight. Instead I dial Jesse’s number and ask him if he wants to catch a movie, and head for the theater.

We pick an action flick with over-the-top fight scenes, gun spray and explosions so neither of us feels the need to talk. We’re both going through stuff. At the end of the show Jesse asks if I want to grab a beer and we meet up at this hole-in-the-wall joint. I’m there for enough time to suck back a long neck and avoid his questions. When a group of guys he knows enters and asks him to join them in a game of pool to even out the teams, I slink away and head home.

It’s close to midnight when I hear Tally get home. I walk to the front door and throw it open, standing in the doorway like those dads you see in movies whose daughter missed curfew. Only, my thoughts about Tally aren’t fatherly.

Able Mackey stops short on the steps when he sees me, with his hand strategically resting to the small of Tally’s back. “Are you serious?” he asks. Then he looks to Tal. “The guy from the restaurant? You know him?”

“He’s sort of my roommate,” Tally says.

The kid shakes his head and laughs. It’s dripping with incredulity. “Right,” he says. “Got it.” And he turns to look at Tally. “You’re a nice girl and I thought we had a good time—but I’m only interested in playing games on the field.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I ask, angry at the little prick for even insinuating that Tally has anything to do with this mess.

“It means I’m an athlete. I know when I’m losing so badly there’s no chance of winning. It’s called a mercy rule. Dude, I’m calling it.”

“I’m not—” Tally starts to say something, glaring daggers my way.

He cuts her off. “Just go.”

“Thanks for dinner and the dance.” She leans in for a that he only partially returns and after he leaves, she turns on me. “What the hell is your problem?”

“We have to talk.”

“Huh.” She scoffs. “Ya think?” Tally storms up the rest of the stairs and uses her shoulder to push me out of her way.

When she does the soft ringlet curl bouncing there looks temptingly soft and I have to touch it, reaching up to rub it gently between my fingers. It’s silk. “You look stunning tonight.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“You think I don’t want you, you’re wrong. I’m going to tell you something tonight and it’ll change how you look at me.”

“Should I get comfortable?” she asks.

“It would be advisable. And if you aren’t comfortable with me in the house, I’ll go stay at Ds for a while.”

Her eyes grow huge and she takes a step back. I can see the wheels turning in her head as she tries to figure out exactly what I’d done. She’ll learn soon enough.

“Go,” I whisper. She turns around to walk into her room and shuts the door behind her. About five minutes later she walks out with a freshly scrubbed face, hair in a high ponytail, wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a T-shirt, and pink fuzzy slippers.

Tally sits down on the sofa, folding her feet underneath her and wraps the throw around her arms. “Okay,” she whispers back, “I’m ready to know.” She might not even realize it, but she’s breathing just as heavily as me.

With one final act of defiance I bend down brushing my lips across her delicately smooth cheek. Then I turn sit down in my recliner across from her.

Long breath in. Long breath out. “Love doesn’t exist, Tal. You want to know how I know? Because I killed my brother.” I give it to her without hesitation. Rip that bandage off.

The look on her face: The confusion, anger and even fear, I’ll never forget it.

“No, Casey.” She shifts her legs out from under her and leans forward, heavy on them. “You called CPS on bad people. It wasn’t your fault.”

I close my eyes and pull at the hair on my head. She doesn’t get it. Okay, okay, okay… I have to make her understand. There’s more. It’s always there… always fucking there haunting me. But this is the part she has to get.

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