I Woke Up in a Car

One hand anxiously gripped the doorknob, the other gripping the handle of my bag as it dangled from my shoulder and rested at my hip. The door swung open and I walked into the house, it smelled of food and a slight hint of weed. I could hear the sounds of food in the kitchen, I surveyed the scene in the living room: Empty, but a “roach” lied in the ash tray.

I thought I was going to get off scott free, I should have known better. As I crossed the living room and by-passed the kitchen to get to the stairs, Eric appeared at the top. We both froze there, me at the bottom, Eric at the top. None of us made a move, just yet. Each of us surveying the other.

A million thoughts raced through my mind. I knew he'd seen the kiss, how could he have not? He'd been watching from the window but I wasn't sure for how long. I was distracted from my own thoughts however, as Eric made the first move, heading down to meet me at the bottom of the stairs.

Once at the bottom he looked at the carpet, then at me. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he finally spoke. “How was your vacation?”

I kept my response short, sweet, and to the point. “Fine. Just, fine.” My hand instinctively clutched tighter around my suitcase.

Eric looked surprised, “Just fine?” He asked, watching me.

I nodded, “Yeah, just fine. Not a lot happened. Just a fire.” I said, though desperate to avoid any subject about John or the kiss he saw, “I, um,” I paused, “The agency moved me to work with Sammy so that I won't be in your way anymore.” I said, beginning to ascend the stairs to the spare room to figure out how to box everything and where it was going to go.

“Sammy..” Eric's voice said questioningly as he watched me go up, “Luebke?” Eric asked me, coming up a step as I finally reached the top.

“The one and only.” I said, shrugging. I turned to look at Eric, “That's what you wanted though right? You wanted me with someone else because I'm so horrible.” I said, biting on the inside of my cheek. It was hard not to be upset about it. “I am sure I'll see you around though.” I said.

Eric's face fell slightly. I knew that Eric and Sammy didn't exactly run in the same circles but I was sure that would be okay. Expand my horizons and meet new people. It couldn't hurt to meet new people right? “I.. I guess that's what I wanted.”

I headed into the guest room and sighed, leaving my bag to the left, just inside the door. I hated this, I was sure Eric hated this. It was so awkward. He guessed it was what he wanted? How could he be so sure. I was sure he'd been drunk when he'd decided, based on the voice-mail he'd left me.

I set Ruby on the bed and headed downstairs into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. I found Eric just settling some food onto a couple of plates. He looked up, albeit a bit shyly, “I made you something. I don't know if you're hungry.”

I raised a brow, “You cook.” I said quietly, “Thanks, I think.” I said, biting my lip as I took the plate and fork, leaning against the counter as we ate.

Eric leaned against the opposite counter, a beer next to him on the counter, “So..” He said.

I merely pushed my food around my plate, “You really want me to work with this Sammy kid?” I asked, looking at Eric.

Eric shrugged, “He's a good kid with good friends. You'll have fun.”

“That's not exactly what I meant.” I said, violently shoving my fork at the food on my plate and then shoving it in my mouth. He knew that's what I meant but rather he was just avoiding the question.

Eric sighed and set his plate down. His blue eyes were dark and intense as he looked at me, his hair curly and wild under the trucker hat with a gnarly beard to match. “You really want to know what I think?” He asked.

I did the same, setting my plate of food on the counter and taking a sip of water, “Eric, I value your opinion and While I may not take your advice, I'll respect it.” I said, watching Eric.

Eric laughed, “Really? Respect my opinion? Funny that that's coming from the girl who was making out with my brother on the front porch no less than twenty minutes ago.”

I crossed my arms, “He kissed me.” I said in light protest, though I was sure if Eric knew that I had started it, he'd have an even smarter comment than the one I had prepared myself for.

Eric threw out his arms in frustration, “Come on! You didn't push him away, you wanted it!” He said, “You know he's ten years older than you?” Eric walked closer to me.

I shook my head, “Just because he is 28 doesn't mean shit Eric.” I said, “You're using his age, his relation for a valid excuse and it's bullshit.” I walked closer to Eric, sighing. “Why?”

Eric and I were now standing in front of each other, my arms crossed, his hands at his sides. What could have possibly been his reason for wanting to keep me all to himself, to keep me away from John. Like I was some secret. “The truth is.. I didn't want to share you the minute I laid eyes on you outside the theater ages ago.”

I furrowed my brows, “Theater? I've never played outside a theater.” I said, shaking my head, “I did a lot, and I mean a lot of coffee places and open mics.” I said looking up at Eric.

Eric shook his head, chuckling. “Yes, you did.” Eric said, “It didn't hit me until I'd heard you play Ruby.” He said, looking at me, “You can't play 'Friend of the Devil' because you don't know it.” He moved to stand closer to me.

I couldn't ever recall playing that song for Eric until it hit me. When I first got to L.A. I was outside that theater. The Marquee, all lit up and the stranger who approached, I looked up at Eric, “You never had a price.” my voice rang quietly.

Eric sighed, “No, I didn't. When Pastor Reyes suggested I come to an Open Mic, where you were playing, after he approached me about taking you in. I saw you play there. I watched you play with such soul, such heart, such pain. It was so real, like that night outside the theater. It hit me that you were that girl outside the theater.” Eric paused, “I couldn't tell Pastor Reyes no.”

I looked up at Eric, confused as all hell. Why did that stick with him, it was so crazy, I barely remembered that night but it was like Eric never forgot it, “So what now Eric? What about me leaving, me moving out?” I asked, “You sure that was what you wanted? Everything I've been pushed to do is the exact opposite.” I said, looking up at him.

The older man sighed as he looked at me, “I don't know. I want you to stay, I want this to work, at least I want us to be friends. I don't want to share you with Sammy or anyone else. You're my assistant, no one else's.” Eric said, pulling me into a hug.

I had my reservations this time. Eric knew how I felt about rumors, of course, maybe he was right to a degree; I needed thicker skin. I bit my lip, “You better stick up for me next time.” I muttered, hugging him a little.

Eric nodded, “There won't be a next time. I promise you that.” Eric said, kissing the top of my head as it rested against his shoulder. He was only a couple inches taller than me so I couldn't very well lay my head on his chest too easily. “Oh, um, this letter came for you on Saturday.” He said, handing me a couple pieces of mail.

I thumbed through the pieces, one was junk, the other was from my mother. I opened it. I hadn't heard from her in months and was beginning to get quite worried. I frantically ripped the envelope and pulled the letter out. The letter was long, three pages worth. My eyes skimmed over the paragraphs, looking for anything of significance or a mention of anything like pregnancy or divorce. I got down to the third paragraph and my heart nearly stopped and I froze there in the kitchen.

I initially skimmed over the words but I went back to look at them once more. My mother was sick with an aggressive form of Cancer. She was dying. She didn't know how to tell me. I couldn't bear to read the rest of the letter. I let it crumple in my hands. Suddenly every ounce of guilt I felt about ever leaving her washed over me and my legs gave out as the loud, frantic sobs began to fall along with my body.

Eric caught me as I wailed uncontrollably. In all the years I'd been away, I never cried over nothing. I thought I was pretty tough; A house of bricks, but, these two words, they just knocked me down like I was a house of straw. Eric gently guided us to sit in the floor of the kitchen. He stroked my hair and just let me sob. Clearly he knew that words couldn't calm me down, not in the slightest.

“I have to go home.” I choked out between sobs as I half-sat, half-laid limp in Eric's arms, “I have to go home.”