Lost in Flight Read online

  Still, she thought she at least ought to try. When she told him to “stop” his lips were about an inch from her face and she felt him pause.

  Riley looked at her dubiously. “You want me to stop?”

  “Mmm-hmmm. I think we need to talk.”

  Riley’s eyebrows drew together. “You want to talk? Now?”

  Christina’s mouth opened and she paused.

  “Just as I thought,” he said. His lips found hers and the desire to talk dissipated into the ether. He picked her up. “Is your bedroom still through there?” Without waiting for a reply, he carried her into the bedroom and kicked the door closed.

  ********************

  Christina, Shanwick, The Present, Sunday 7 October 2012

  Christina woke up starving around 3:00 a.m., and crept out into the kitchen to try and make something to eat. On the table was a note from Johnny saying he’d had to go back to New York and would be back in a few days. Christina looked to the heavens and whispered, “Thank you.”

  She started ransacking the cupboards and the fridge, muttering about Johnny’s shopping abilities. He seemed to have bought beer, all kinds of chocolate, but not much in the way of anything healthy. She did find eggs though and hollered “score” before clapping her hand over her mouth, fearing she’d wake her bed-pal.

  Almost on cue the bedroom door opened and a sleepy looking Riley appeared. He started grumbling about her “making a habit of waking him at ungodly hours in the morning,” which made her smile. He was wearing her robe and some black socks, which made her grin.

  Riley looked at her and raised an eyebrow. “Pretty, I know.” Coming to stand beside her, he asked. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m hungry. Do you want something?” Christina made eye contact with Riley and he made a face at her, grabbing the eggs and grinning.

  “Omelets?” he asked.

  She nodded, surprised. “Since when do you cook?”

  He grinned. “Since ages ago. Go sit down. I got this.”

  Christina watched Riley cook and frowned. He’d never cooked when they were together. Well, he had. She should be more explicit: he’d never cooked very well when they were together. The term “goop” came to mind.

  By nature, Riley was quite a taciturn man, but Christina gave him props for making small talk and keeping away from inflammatory areas. They talked about her sister, Gabby, and how she was progressing in the hospital, for probably longer than was necessary, but it was safe. They stayed silent for a bit, looking everywhere else but at each other, and when they broke the silence they ended up speaking over the top of one another. Both proceeded to have an ongoing “you first” discussion until the food was ready and they ate in silence.

  Christina’s mind had drifted off into calculating how many hours she’d been in bed today as opposed to out and whether that was scandalous or not. It took a moment for her to realize that Riley was speaking to her, and she had to ask him to repeat himself. He grinned. “I said you look different.”

  She shrugged. “Well time waits for no-one, Riley.”

  His eyebrows drew together. “That’s not what I meant. I always imagine you with black hair and it’s weird seeing you without it.”

  Oh yes, the black hair phase. She’d spent most of her teenage years and their time together with dyed hair. She’d let her hair return to its natural color when she went to college. A lot of kids went the other way experimenting with their appearance and reveling in their newfound freedom. Christina took a different route, eradicating the evidence of her youthful rebellion and blending in with the general wildlife.

  She stifled a yawn and laughed. Christina didn’t do well on broken sleep and got cranky – a fact Riley knew well. He stood up, cleared the table, and then urged her back to bed. They lay facing each other without saying anything and up close Christina could see the faded scars on his lip and eyebrow. He’d got them in fights at high school and they were part of the history they’d shared together.

  She traced her finger down his tattoo, which covered the freckles on his shoulders and back. She’d always liked his freckles and used to count them. He had 33 and they were etched in her memory of him, as clear as any other of his defining features that made him – him.

  The tattoo now covered part of them, which for some reason, made her sad, as if some essential part of him had been erased. He smiled. “Do you like it?” When she gave an unconvincing, “Yeah,” he laughed.

  Up close the tattoo was a lot more detailed than at first glance. There was a circle on his shoulder with the sun and some kind of bird in it. It looked like an eagle, but she wasn’t sure. “Is that an eagle?”

  He gave an enigmatic smile and shook his head. “No” and wouldn’t elaborate any further. Instead, he reached over held her face and placed his mouth on top of hers, ending all conversation.

  Chapter Three – Departures

  Christina, Shanwick, The Present, Sunday 7 October 2012

  Christina woke up alone in the bed and automatically looked for Riley. When she heard him in the shower, she stretched, and allowed herself a big grin. The sun was streaming in the window now and she couldn’t believe how well she felt. The bathroom door opened and Riley came out.

  He was already dressed and gave her a beaming smile. Christina couldn’t help herself, she felt the smile stretch across her own face and she laughed. He came and sat on the bed, taking her hand.

  “Hey. I’ve got to go, but I’ll be back later okay?”

  When she gave a non-committal, “Sure,” he stared at her intently and leaned over to give her a kiss. Riley’s eyes never left her face. “It’s good to see you, Dina. It really is.”

  He took her hand and kissed it, then pulled her out of bed. She threw on her robe and followed him out to see him off. Christina offered Riley a ride home, but he declined. He looked at his clothes and then directly at her.

  “Nah. It’s okay. It’s not like I’m doing my walk of shame in a skimpy blue dress.”

  Christina tried to keep her face passive because here they came: the hooks, the barbs, the insults, everything designed to unnerve her. Riley was a master at getting under her skin, pushing and prodding until he found something – anything - to upset her. She could almost predict how this would go, so she decided to head it off at the pass.

  Attempting a neutral demeanor, Christina made eye contact with Riley, and she didn’t like the way he was looking at her. “Did you follow me home, Riley?”

  Riley’s mouth twitched at the corners and his eyes glinted. “Of course, I followed you home. You should have seen yourself. You could’ve given my old man a heart attack.”

  Christina tried to keep her face passive, but she could feel her eyes begin to blaze. “That was nice of you, but you didn’t need to do that…”

  To her annoyance, Riley started laughing. “Well, it was kind of interesting. I really did enjoy the part where you were talking to yourself about iron vaginas and stupidity, but my absolute favorite was when you pulled your panties down and went country in the field, and kind of fell in it.”

  Christina closed her eyes and grimaced. Why did he have to do this? And then she could feel it, lurking at the back of her mind. Her heart started racing because it had been a long time since this happened, but when she became overwhelmed it felt like popcorn exploded in her head.

  If it stayed locked away inside her mind, that would be fine, but it didn’t. Usually, all her jumbled thoughts came burbling out her mouth without the benefit of a filter. She rubbed her temples and paced around the room waving her hands, trying to keep herself under control, before it was too late.

  She was going to have a meltdown in front of Riley, and she knew full well that he had done everything to provoke it. No, no, no, she thought, I’m an idiot. She tried to visualize images that would bring her tranquility, but her mind fixated on Riley witnessing her relieving herself in the field.

  “Are you talking to me or yourself, Christina?” Riley laughed, “a
nd you’re not an idiot. Crazy? Maybe. No, definitely. But you’re not an idiot.”

  Oh god. It had started and she needed to control it before it got worse. Christina rubbed her forehead and made eye contact with Riley. “I think you need to leave. This,” she pointed her fingers between the two of them, “was a mistake and let’s pretend it didn’t happen.”

  “Why? Oh come on, honey,” Riley smirked. “It was fun. You know it. I know it. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, and if the noise was anything to go by, you seemed to have a really good time.”

  Christina exploded. All the politeness and intimacy they’d shared evaporated in that moment. What resurfaced was their default position of two scorpions in a jar trying to sting each other to death. “Get out,” she snapped. “Just go – you’re a pig.”

  By this stage Riley was almost bent over double, finding it difficult to stand because he was laughing so hard. He had his hands on his thighs to steady himself and she actually fantasized about kicking him in the balls: really, really hard. Repeatedly.

  Stomping to the front door, she threw it open and emphasized her demand for his exit with a pointed arm. “Get out. Go. Now. You-insufferable-dick.” It just made him laugh even harder.

  Riley was still laughing as he walked past her and made a point of sitting on the front step slowly putting his shoes on. She was tempted to slam the door on his ass or slap him over the head, but she knew that would just end in disaster. Christina had once slammed the door on him when they were teenagers and he’d responded by kicking it in. Her father had banned him from the house, until he apologized and fixed it.

  By the way Riley was looking at her with a smirk on his face and a raised eyebrow, she knew he remembered this incident as well. Their eyes locked and she was tempted to rise to the challenge, but for once she let her head rule her emotions where he was concerned. If he kicked the door in, she couldn’t leave this place until it was repaired and there would be a lot of explaining to do.

  Instead she hectored him telling him, amongst other things: he was the most passive-aggressive, non-communicative, pig-headed fool of a man that she ever had the misfortune to meet. She was so angry that language failed her and she finished with a lame “you’re nothing but an entire species of moron.”

  Riley just laughed at her, which made her angrier. He made a show of standing up, casually brushing off his pants, and slowly heading down the front steps. When he got to the bottom of the steps, he stopped and faced her, smirking. “You sure can talk can’t you, baby?”

  It took every ounce of willpower for Christina not to run down the stairs and kick him in the ass. Riley’s smirk was making it increasingly difficult to rein in her temper. She knew he was doing this deliberately, but when he said, “You know, Dina, you’ve always spoken enough for two people anyway. Most of it was shit, but everyone needs a hobby.”

  It-was-so-on.

  Christina launched herself onto the porch, standing at the top step and glaring down at him. He didn’t move or flinch, but kept his eyes fixed on hers waiting for her next move. This was one of the things she hated about Riley: he knew her so well that he could see straight through to her weak points and took perverse pleasure in twisting the knife.

  She stood with her arms folded, willing herself to calm down. Using her breathing techniques from years of singing to stop from attacking him, Christina forced herself to smile. “I talk shit? Oh wow. At least I talk. I don’t run away like – like some stupid man-child, who’s too chicken shit to face his responsibilities.”

  With some satisfaction Christina saw Riley’s eyes darken to cold green glass as he took a step toward her. Riley’s tendency to leave when things got ugly between them was a sore point and right now, she was prepared to go there. “Careful Christina,” he warned and looked pointedly at the door, but she snorted at him.

  “Whatever. Go on – do it - then you can explain to my father how it happened because I won’t be covering for you this time,” she sneered.

  Riley laughed. “You didn’t cover for me last time.”

  “YES I DID,” she shouted, “I took the blame for your anger management issues saying I’d provoked you. I won’t be doing that again. You’re on your own.”

  Riley smirked and shook his head. “Agh, Dina the martyr, but don’t worry I’m sure everyone’s worked out by now that we were only ever good for fighting and fucking.”

  Christina’s mouth opened and closed. Her eyes narrowed and she felt her heart rate increase. He’d been vicious with her before, but very rarely had he been so vile and truthful, and actually, insightful. It was the theme of their relationship in triplicate.

  He was watching her intently, waiting for her comeback, and she looked at him and nodded. “You know – you’re right,” she said and watched his eyes open wide in surprise. “Because looking back on our relationship and analyzing it, all you ever do – actually, all you’ve ever done - is try and shut me up with your penis.”

  Christina watched him cock his head to the side, which was never a good sign. It usually indicated he was going to go psycho. Even though she was counting how fast it would take her to get inside and lock all the doors, she looked at him without blinking. “Yep. That’s right. I said it - with-your-penis – your stupid, stupid penis.”

  She folded her arms and glared at him. “It’s like you think it’s some kind of communication device, but it’s not. It’s just a little distraction and where your little brain is located. So why don’t you take yourself and your stupid penis, and just-piss-off?”

  Riley’s eyes went wide in shock and his mouth dropped open. He shouted. “I, WHAT? Seriously? Oh hahahahaaaa. That’s a good one. Let me say it louder. AHAHAHAAAAAA!”

  Moving toward her and putting one foot on the bottom step, he said, “You know – there’s a lot of things I could say back to that, but I’m going to think of the neighbors.”

  For the first time, Christina looked around and realized they’d drawn an audience. Her elderly and deeply religious Swedish neighbor, Mrs. Gustafson, was out in the front yard pretending not to listen, but riveted to the spot. Mrs. Gustafson was in her church clothes, which made Christina give her a second glance. Of course, she was. It was Sunday.

  Across the road, a few of her neighbors were standing openly staring as well. She put her head up and glared at them balefully. A few looked away and left, but some of the braver ones stayed for the spectacle. Some had been here before – multiple times, and it was always entertaining.

  Riley shook his head and smiled. “ANYWAY, you told me you didn’t mind and quite enjoyed it.”

  Christina looked at him confused. “What are you talking about now?”

  He grinned and shouted. “BLOW JOBS, CHRISTINA. That’s what I’m talking about – you know – using MY AWESOME PENIS to shut you up.”

  Christina went bright red and her jaw clenched. He was disgusting, but she’d walked right into that one. Her annoyance at her own stupidity over-rode his filthy mouth and she stood her ground to show she had better manners than he did. She did this by yelling at the top of her voice, “I WAS BEING METAPHORIC, NOT LITERAL, AND I LIED!”

  Riley responded in kind. “OH YEAH? WELL, OVER THE YEARS YOU’VE BEEN LITERAL AND LIED – A LOT.”

  She heard the neighbors across the road snicker and Mrs. Gustafson clasped her hands to her heart, openly praying to Jesus. This would be all around the neighborhood by lunchtime and everyone in town would know what had gone on. Mrs. Gustafson was staring daggers at Christina that was a mixture of disgust, fear, and loathing.

  Christina stared at her and shouted. “WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT – YOU GODDAMN BUSYBODY? GO AWAY. GO ON. RUN ALONG NOW.”

  She mentally added blaspheming on the Sabbath and abusing the elderly to her ever, increasing list of sins. If she was going to hell, she hoped Riley wouldn’t be there, but with her luck, he probably would. Actually, she already was. Being stuck in her hometown with him was her version of hell – either that or a day-care cen
ter with children who had a stomach bug.

  Riley looked at Mrs. Gustafson, raised his hands palm up in submission, pointed to Christina, and just shook his head at her bad behavior. Mrs. Gustafson gave a tight smile to Riley and shot Christina one last glance that was openly hate-filled. If looks could kill, Christina would have been toast.

  Rolling her eyes and making “shooing” noises, and motions at Mrs. Gustafson, Christina focused her attention back on Riley. Looking him up and down with disgust she snapped. “You know I was drunk, so-so drunk. The only reason I let you touch me is because alcohol made you bearable. Well, I’m sober now.”

  Rather than being offended, Riley laughed. “You weren’t drunk when we were banging all over the house last night and this morning.”

  Christina scowled. “ You are so disgusting. Go away and don’t come back. Ever. I don’t ever want to see you again…”

  Riley put his hand up and pointed his index finger to the sky like he was listening for something. “Wait, wait,” he said, “I just need a moment to cope with the disappointment. Okay, I’m done. Yep. All good now.”

  As he turned to leave, he said, “Tell me, Dina, where do you hide the real you when you’re playing grown-up lady lawyer with all the other drones?” Ouch.

  Christina stood watching Riley leave with narrowed eyes, trying hard to resist the urge of chasing him, and hurling more abuse. She kept telling herself she was better than that, but she wasn’t. Not really, not by a long shot and not in this town.

  This place and that horrible man brought out the worst in her. Everything she thought she’d buried came back and was stuck in her face for the whole neighborhood to see. “Wait,” she called. “Please wait.”

  Riley turned at the end of the driveway and watched her with eyes full of suspicion. “I have something for you,” Christina said. “I’ll… just wait please.”