Love and Trust

Jeremy helped me get my remaining items out of my dad's place Wednesday night. Just before walking out, I took the house and garage key off of my key ring and left them both on the kitchen counter. Now I truly had no family.

"Give him a couple of days, he'll come around," Jeremy said. I knew, though, this was something that could be a real deal breaker. When, after three weeks, he hadn't returned any of my messages, I pretty much gave up.

After that, Regina and I had a huge blow-up about her attitude, and what I saw as her disrespecting me that Saturday night. She ended up telling me to go fuck myself. Life really was not looking good right now, and it was about to get worse. I was alone and for the first time I didn't have to answer to anyone but myself, and maybe my new boss.

Cindy thought I was being a total jerk to pretty much everyone. When I told her to get the hell off my back, Jeremy and I had our first real argument in twenty years. He was upset that I had put him in the middle, and although he understood how I felt, he was in love with Cindy. I made it easy for him. He didn't have to choose sides, I stopped calling him too.

I started hanging out with a new group from work. It was a mix of both women and men who loved to party, especially on the weekends. I started forcing myself out on the dance floor, and in doing so I think my skin got an inch thicker. I no longer cared what people thought about me on and off the dance floor, and maybe for once I got a little bit more of a backbone.

I saw her dancing up a storm with more than a couple of guys. She knew I was there because on several occasions I caught her looking my way. I danced more than I normally would have, especially when they played a slow song. We were playing a stupid game and we both knew it. I just didn't know which one of us would take it to the next level.

I didn't see her walk up because I had my back to the dance floor, but everyone else at our table did.

"Steve, do you want to dance?" she said, with not even a hint of a smile or any warmth.

"Regina, didn't you humiliate me enough the last time around, or do you just want to show everyone here how much better a dancer you are than me? I'm sure you can find a lot better partners, you never seemed to have a problem before."

"You're really an ass, you know that? And for your information, it wasn't anything like what you just said." I could see her group of friends watching us, one guy in particular.

"Thanks for asking, but no thanks. I wouldn't want your new guy to get the idea I was moving in on his territory." I am not sure what I saw in her eyes, but what was on her face was pure anger as she turned around and stomped back to where her friends were sitting.

I was getting bored with the whole club scene. I liked listening to the music. It was just that the crowds, the smoke, and the pressure I was putting on myself to be someone I wasn't made it much less fun each time I went.

I watched him walk towards our table but that wasn't anything out of the ordinary. It was the guy at Regina's table who had been giving me the evil eye, but with the bar right behind me I figured he was headed for it. He didn't look angry, he wasn't a bruiser, he wasn't even making eye contact. Looking back I should have been on my guard, but hell this is a dance club, for Christ's sakes.

One of the last things I remember was seeing him pull something shiny out of his jacket pocket with his right hand. He never said a word when he walked up to me, he didn't plan to. The pain in my stomach was sharp and intense. Operating on instinct, I pushed him away and saw the knife in his hand was covered with blood—my blood—I think at that moment I was in shock. Someone at my table screamed, and with me holding my guts in with both hands, I dropped to my knees, then collapsed on to my face on the dirty floor.

I'm told the place went totally wild. My table pelted the guy with bottles, not wanting him to get within arms reach of me again. They watched him struggle to get away before a bouncer grabbed hold of his sorry ass. Never try to hurt a six foot six, three hundred and fifty pound man with an attitude even if you have a switchblade. Someone said the bouncer almost ripped his arm off. Me? I was on the floor for no more than five minutes, before being put on a stretcher by the paramedics and carried out to a waiting ambulance.

I didn't have a clue what exactly happened because I had passed out. Even after I woke up in the hospital I still wasn't sure what had gone down. The room was dark and for a split second when I first opened my eyes I thought I was blind. When I started focusing I was thankful until I felt the pain, then it all came rushing back to me. At least I was still alive.

How in the hell do they know at the nurses station when someone wakes up, magic? Within seconds I had a nurse taking my vitals and asking me how I felt. I was stabbed, how did she think I felt? Some questions don't even rate an answer. She said I was lucky, I would have to spend another couple of days in the hospital, but after that I would probably be discharged. I wanted to know about the guy who went looking for what I'd eaten that morning in my stomach. She informed me the two policemen outside my door would answer all my questions.

It was the usual questions I'd seen on most of the cop shows on television: Did I know him? Had I seen him before? Did he say anything to me before he did it, and finally the big one, why?

"I think he was angry with me because of the argument I had with my ex-girlfriend." I gave them the nickel version.

"All this because I dance like a clumsy white boy? I've got to take lessons when I get my ass out of here." I said, shaking my head in disbelief. They weren't laughing and saw no humor in it—neither did I.

"Your assailant is currently in custody, being charged with assault with a deadly weapon. When we review the facts the charge may possibly be upgraded to attempted murder." I liked the word attempted. I finished giving my statement, signed it, and they left saying they'd be in touch.

I must have fallen back to sleep. When I woke next the room was dark. "You didn't have to go to this extreme to get me to talk to you," a voice out of the darkness said. My dad got up from a chair in the corner of the room and sat down in the one next to my bed.

"I'm sorry," I started to say before he stopped me.

"We'll talk later when you're out of here. I called your boss at home. Said he already knew about it. He told me to tell you not to worry about your job, to just get well. The doctor said you're going to be sore for a while but nothing vital got cut, you were damn lucky. You lost a lot of blood. Luckily a couple of your friends applied a wet compress to make sure you didn't bleed to death before the paramedics got there. I think you'll need to pick up a few dry cleaning bills and maybe buy someone a dress that was used for the compress. Anyway, you're alive and kicking. For that I am grateful. Maybe next time you'll learn to keep your mouth shut and your head out of your ass." My dad always had a way with words. That's when the doctor came into my room.

"Good evening, Mr. Moore, how are you feeling?" he asked, looking at my chart.

"Son, I've got to go and make a few more calls. I'll catch up with you later." My dad started walking out of my room, I called out to him.

"Love you, Dad!"

"Love you too, son. Get some rest and I'll see you soon." The doctor started again.

"You were very fortunate. Like I told your father and your wife, an inch further in either direction, and we would have had major complications."

"Excuse me, Doctor. You said my dad and my wife?"

"Your wife came in on the ambulance with you. Steve, you probably don't remember, you were pretty much out of it. Please explain to her that hospital policy dictates we destroy anything that comes into the hospital that has been contaminated with blood as in the case of her skirt. First time I ever saw a beer soaked silk compress, but it must have worked because you're still here. I will be back to see you later today."

"My wife?" I repeated silently to myself

"I leave you alone for a couple of weeks and you're out there pissing off some local gang banger. I think for Christmas I'm going to get you a Kevlar vest, then just maybe I won't have to come down to the hospital in the middle of the night to rag on you. And you don't even want to hear what Cindy had to say." Jeremy smiled. "Well, now that we've got that out of the way bro, how you feeling?"

"Just fucking great. At least now I know what a shish kabob feels like." We laughed. We apologized to one another and brought each other up to speed.

"So you're married now, does she know?"

"Very funny. However, there is only one girl I know whose got balls big enough to pull that one off."

"I thought the two of you broke up?"

"We did, or at least I thought we did. When she asked me to dance and I turned her down, she got upset. That's when her hommie decided to open me up a bit."

"Well, you'll be out of here soon. Just think of the story you get to tell your kids some day. And if you're lucky, you'll have a great looking scar—the women will love it. It'll be, 'Oh poor, poor, Steve,' all the way to your bedroom. You'll probably get more pussy now than you ever dreamed of." I doubted that.

Jeremy stuck around for about another twenty minutes before saying something about dinner and needing to get a few hours of much needed of sleep before going to work tomorrow.

Just before he made his exit he warned me of his next visit. "I'll bring Cindy with me tomorrow night. She says she has a few choice words for you."

Be still my heart. That's just what I needed, another woman ragging on me. I told him to wait until I got out of here before bringing Cindy over. I hoped to be home by Wednesday night at the latest. That is if I lived through all my visitors. The doctor returned just after a not-too-good hospital dinner, announcing I was doing as well as could be expected and would see me tomorrow.

I slept great Sunday night, the best sleep I'd had in months. I guess a lot of it had to do with the amount of drugs I had in my system. I'm sure I was checked on a couple of times during the night, but I never knew it. I woke up hungry, happy, and if it weren't for the stitches in my abdomen, I would have loved to have taken a walk around the park. Legal drugs are wonderful, aren't they?

By Wednesday late morning I was in my apartment, bored, and ready to go back to work. "Just don't overdo it," were the only instructions the doctor left me with. I had one final follow-up appointment in a week and then I was on my own.

Get-well cards and cookies covered my desk my first day back at work. I was the center of attention for all of the first two hours. After everyone's curiosity was satisfied, it was back to normal except for a few final well wishers who occasionally stopped by.

I'd left three e-mails and two calls to Regina to thank her for all her help, but got no replies. When Cindy came over the following night, and after reading me the riot act for the third or fourth time, she said she had talked to Regina.

"She's sorry about what happened and feels responsible. After your blow-up she went back to her friends and basically told them what an ass you'd been to her. One of the group, a guy she'd only met once before, took it that you had disrespected her and decided to teach you manners, as he put it."

"Manners! The son of a bitch almost killed me. Nice people she hangs with."

"Steve, Regina said that even though she didn't know this guy from Adam, she still feels partly to blame."

"She should."

"After all this, didn't you learn anything? You moron, she likes you. Why? I haven't a clue. You got your little ego hurt and maybe she wasn't paying enough attention to you, but weren't you the one who told her she could dance with all those guys because you were too lame on the dance floor?"

"Dance with them, yes. But she let them put their hands all over her. That's not dancing, that's mauling"

"Did you talk to her about it? No, you just got angry and walked away, how in the hell was she supposed to know? Between your hot temper and hers, the two of you are going to have to learn to talk not yell at one another. Steve, girls are smart, but we're not mind readers. Call her and explain in a calm, quiet voice why you got angry. I know she'll listen."

"Tried, but she's not taking my calls or returning my e-mails. I think it's about time I move on with my life."

"For what the fourth, fifth, or maybe sixth time? When are you going to get it through your thick skull that one of these days you're going to have to take a chance on someone? People are human. We all make mistakes, including you. If you want to be by yourself for the rest of your life just keep walking away every time life throws you a curve, or you start to feel a little uncomfortable. Take a chance and maybe—just maybe—you won't be disappointed."

"Cindy, maybe you didn't hear me, she's not taking my calls!"

"Steve, you're not a cripple are you? And correct me if I'm wrong, you still have a car and know where she lives? Suck it up, show her you have some balls for a change."

I tried Friday and Saturday without much luck. At one point I thought she actually had picked up my call but a second later I heard that familiar dial tone. I took Cindy's advice.

Saint Paul's Catholic church has five services on Sunday. I knew she wouldn't be at the seven or eight o'clock service because of Angela, which left me the nine fifteen, ten thirty, and the noon masses. I camped out front on the church steps and waited.

I struck out on the nine fifteen mass but hit pay dirt when I saw Regina and her entire family coming up the sidewalk at ten minutes after ten. I'd gone over in my mind what I wanted to say, but seeing her I forgot about ninety percent of it. She saw me standing there and looked over at the rest of her family, it didn't look good. She didn't even acknowledge my presence. She just walked by me and into the church. I followed her in, sitting down in a pew four rows back from her.

My family never went to mass. Hell, up until I met Regina I'd only seen the inside of a church for weddings and funerals. When I went with her, I followed what everyone did. I stood, kneeled, and sat when everyone else did. Today an elderly woman next to me handed me a prayer book and showed me what page we were on. She smiled at me and went back to reading her own hymnal.

Even with her head lowered, I know she saw me when she came back up the aisle after getting her cracker, or whatever they were giving away up at the altar. Fifteen minutes later the service was over and everyone started leaving the church. I lost track of her a couple of times, there were so many people and everyone was talking to everyone else. I caught up with her when she was halfway down the stairs.

"Regina!" She stopped—crap—everyone stopped.

"Steve, what do you want?"

"I just need to talk to you."

"Didn't you say enough last time?"

"Please, just give me ten minutes. That's all I'm asking for, and after that I'll leave alone if you want me to." By the look on her face I couldn't tell what she was thinking. Her mom whispered something to her, then looked up at me.

"Come on, I'm not going to have this conversation in front of God and everyone," Regina said. I followed her to her car.

"I assume you still know where I live?" I nodded, yes.

"Follow me and we can talk there." I did as instructed even though I didn't like the thought of having this conversation with the whole family there.

"Momma, I'll be out back for a bit. Make sure Angela stays inside, will you?"

"Will Steve be staying for lunch?" Regina looked at me.

"I'll let you know shortly." She stormed out the back door with me a step behind her. We walked into the backyard, and I'd like to say away from everyone's prying eyes, but that sure as hell didn't happen. "Okay. Talk. You've got ten minutes," she instructed with an attitude, her arms crossed in front of her.

"I'm sorry, I must be taking up too much of your precious time," I said, turning to walk away. "I've been dictated to all my life and I'm pretty much sick of it. I guess we really don't have anything to say to one another after all."

"Damn it, Steve, just talk to me. I have no idea what happened between us. We were good, then you bailed on me, it made no sense."

I spent the next fifteen minutes explaining to Regina why I was so angry with her.

"You never said a word to me. Why not?"

"I did, or at least tried to a couple of times. Couldn't you see how angry I was that night? Hell, I must have been beet red with steam coming out of my damn ears, yet all you did was ignore me."

"Steve, maybe I did ignore you a little, but it was never intentional, you've got to believe that."

"The next time I saw you I told you I felt like you had humiliated me out there on the dance floor. I became the laughing stock of all your friends." I made sure I enunciated those last few words. "Those guys had their hands all over you, and you did nothing to stop them. And when the music stopped I saw your last partner gave you a kiss, I finally had enough, and just lost it. You were supposed to be with me, not them."

"I was with you."

"No, Regina, you weren't. Cindy came back to the table in a half hour, back to Jeremy. After another half hour I had to physically find you, and then you still didn't come back. If I wanted to be treated like shit, I could have stayed with one of my ex-girlfriends. I thought you were somehow different." After that statement there was this huge moment of silence.

"But I do want to thank you for what you did that night. I guess without your skirt I may have bled to death." Now came the tears, hers not mine.

"I'm sorry. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think that guy would do what he did. There was so much blood and everyone was more concerned about him than you. The only thing I could think of was to stop the bleeding. That's when I used my skirt. Someone poured beer on it saying the alcohol would keep the wound from getting infected." We looked at each other and broke up laughing at that statement. After a few seconds, she continued. "Hey, what do I know? If you'll recall, it was a little chaotic at that point—it worked, didn't it?"

"I guess I owe you a skirt. And by the way, how did we get married from the last time we talked until I was loaded into the ambulance?"

"They weren't going to let me come so I just said we were married," she said casually. "One of the paramedics gave me a blanket to cover up, and away we went. I didn't have answers to all their questions so I fished out your wallet and gave them your insurance cards. That's when I saw the card with the list of phone numbers and called your dad. I met him at the entrance to the emergency room and told him everything I knew. You were already in surgery so we just waited together. When the doctor came out and asked for Mrs. Moore we kind of looked at each other. The doctor said you were going to be okay but would need to say in the hospital for about two to three days. After he left, your dad and I had a little talk. He told me to go home and he would call me after he saw you."

"But you never returned my calls."

"I figured you just wanted to yell at me some more. I already felt bad enough as it was. I'm sorry, I never meant to hurt you." We were now holding hands, looking at one another, but saying nothing.

"Regina, honey, lunch is on the table," her mom yelled out the back door."

"Are you hungry?" she asked.

"For food, no," I replied, kissing her.

We had lunch with her entire family. Afterwards we grabbed Angela and headed to the park. While Angela played we set down the ground rules for going forward.