The Things No One Else Sees

She could feel her heart shattering into thousands of little pieces. So much for him being a changed man. She’d been right all along: men don’t change; they just manipulate.

“So, we followed them around for a month. Down the east coast of the States, even over into the mid-west, then back up to Ottawa.” The guy--he'd said his name was Dominic--beside her was talking about following a local band as they went on their first tour, but she couldn’t think about anything but Lupul. Dominic had cornered her when she went to the bar to get another drink. With all the people here for Lupul’s party, the waitress was a little taxed and Lucy was just trying to be helpful.

She hadn’t really wanted to talk to him, even if he was kind of cute with the floppy hair and tattoos. What she’d always found attractive before tended to pale in comparison to Joffrey Lupul. He’d ruined her for other men and they hadn’t even had sex.

But Dominic was nice and eager and his mouth kept moving, words kept coming. He was witty and funny, and she couldn’t figure out a good time to pull away without looking like a bitch. Plus, she couldn’t spend the rest of her life shutting down every guy because she secretly wanted the forbidden fruit.

“I mean, it was pretty crazy. Have you been to South Carolina? A different world, man. Weird accents and Confederate flags. We got lost in this tiny town just outside Columbia. So, we go to a gas station to ask for directions and I’ve got to take a piss, right. This grandpa on the porch of a little store points me around back. So, I go back there and it’s a fucking outhouse. No lie. A legit outhouse with the moon cut out of the door!” The more Dominic talked, the less Lucy was interested in what he had to say. Maybe he used up the good stuff in the first twenty minutes and now he was scraping the bottom of the barrel.

Some blonde woman with so much makeup on she looked like she was ready for Halloween a month early was sitting on Lupul's lap. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks, Lucy thought.

He kept glancing over at her with angry, unhappy eyes. She wasn’t sure what point he was trying to make. Was he mad at her for getting trapped at the bar with the storyteller? She was just trying to be polite and fair. They couldn’t keep pining after each other when they both knew it would be a disastrous fallout when things soured. At least she knew that; Lupul didn’t seem to care. He probably wanted her so bad because she’d run from him. Guys were predictable, especially him with his new arm candy.

It was his birthday, but she was on the verge of leaving. This was too much to ask of her. She couldn’t just sit there and watch him charm some woman into being his birthday present after the party. It was disgusting, and she felt ill and heartbroken and depressed.

Maybe this was for the best.

“Mikey said he couldn’t throw up in a for-real outhouse. I mean, you got to puke, then you got to puke. You can’t be choosey about that shit.” Dominic was still going.

She nodded, giving him a small smile. Right about now she felt like puking. The woman’s hand was on Lupul’s crotch and he wasn’t stopping her. Instead he was whispering in her ear, his eyes locked with Lucy’s. It was too much. Like he was flaunting it because she refused to put out.

Throwing money on the table for her last drink, she said, “Thanks for the company, Dominic. I really have to go, though. Have a good evening.”

It took all she could muster to get out the pleasantries before pushing away from the bar and practically running out of the place. He was on her heels, though, asking her if she needed help getting home.

“No, I’m fine. I just forgot I left my oven on.”

“I mean, I got a car. I could totally give you a lift.”

The cool air hit her face when she opened the door. She was less than a minute from breaking down into tears. Here she’d worked so hard to prevent the moment when she’d be hurt by him and it happened anyway. “No, it’s okay. I don’t live that far.”

“You driving?”

She’d had way too much to drink. When Lupul started talking to blondie, she had started pounding drinks like there was no tomorrow. “No, I’ll just walk.”

“I’ll walk with you,” Dominic said, jogging to catch up with her. “You shouldn’t be walking home alone anyway.”

Lucy stopped and turned around. “Dominic, really, I’m fine. I just feel like being alone. Thanks for the drink and thanks for the conversation.”

His puppy-dog eager face morphed into something else, something less friendly. “So, what, you’re a fucking tease?”

“No, I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Yeah, well, fuck you.” He lifted a hand and flipped her off before turning around and walking back to the parking lot.

She did an about face and continued on her way. Fucking men. She was going to be single the rest of her life. Her house was less than two miles away, and Lucy was determined not to break down into tears before she got there.

By the time she walked into her place, her feet were killing her. The ankle boots she’d worn were new and had three inch heels. They’d rubbed a blister on her right pinky toe and made both her feet ache. Finally letting herself blink the tears out of her eyes, she sat down in the floor and pulled the boots off, throwing them across the room.

After what felt like an eternity, but was really probably only twenty minutes, she picked herself up and wiped the salty tears from her face. She was going to be okay; she’d morned Lupul and the weird friendship. Now she could move on with her life, starting with a shower and a good night’s sleep.

****************************************

It had been over a week. She hadn't spoken to anyone, not even Jacob. He'd called her several times, but all Lucy wanted to do was zone out and focus on her work and all the little things she did to fill her day to keep from standing still and thinking about Joffrey Lupul. Because by the fourth day of radio silence she'd admitted to herself that she was in love with his stupid ass.

So, she'd planted a tree, three small bushes under the front window, and a carefully-planned bed of flowers in the backyard by her patio. She'd cleaned the entire house, scrubbing baseboards and even the crisper drawers at the bottom of the fridge. She'd gone to the farmer's market and convinced herself that next summer she was going to plant a vegetable patch in her backyard and sell tomatoes. Or maybe she'd raise chickens and sell the eggs. Was she even allowed to have chickens within the city? Anything and everything to keep from thinking about him and her feelings and what an absolute waste every ounce of energy she'd put toward resisting him had been when she'd fallen for him anyway.

It had been thirteen days and Jacob was standing on her front stoop on a Saturday afternoon.

"What?" she asked when she opened the door.

"Why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not avoiding you," Lucy replied, walking away and leaving the door open.

Jacob stepped inside and looked around at the living room. She'd rearranged all her furniture. "Yeah, you are, Lucy. I haven't talked to you since Lupul's party."

"I've been busy. Did you know there's a huge market for organic produce? Do you think I have room in my backyard to grow tomatoes?"

"What?" he asked, looking at her like she'd lost her mind.

"Tomatoes, Jay. I'm thinking of selling them next year at the farmer's market."

"Is this about Lupul?"

Lucy narrowed her eyes just as the despair settled into her heart. He was the last thing she wanted to talk about. "No, asshole. I've got other things going on in my life. I don't have time to worry about who he is or is not screwing around with."

"Have you talked to him?"

"No. What do you think about cucumbers, though? I feel like if I set up a trellis along the fence that they might do well."

Jacob sat down on the couch and leveled his gaze on her. Lucy shifted uncomfortably and sat down in the armchair across the room. He wasn't taking the bait.

"I think you need to talk to him."

"I think you need to mind your own business, Jay," Lucy snapped. "Lupul and I were never a thing. So if he wants to whore around town, he's welcome to. I just don't think that's the kind of friend I care to have in my life."

Jacob didn't even flinch. "The season starts on Tuesday. First game is away, but he'll be back on Wednesday. There's a home game on Thursday night and another on Saturday. So, maybe you should give him a call on Wednesday and see if you two can meet up on Friday."

"I'm not meeting up with him. I have nothing to say. Now, can we talk about my goddamn vegetable garden?"

Her cousin rolled his eyes at her. "Lucy, you are not planting a vegetable garden. You do this shit to cope."

"Fuck you, Jay. I'm serious about this. This is the new me. I'm going to be like Barefoot Contessa or some shit. All organic with a little herb box on my kitchen windowsill and fresh fruits and vegetables in baskets on the counter. It's going to look like a fucking dream. And I'm going to sell hundreds of tomatoes at the farmers' market and people are going to love them. Fucking LOVE them."

Jacob tilted his head and gave her one of those pitying looks. "He didn't go home with that girl, Lucy. He opened your present and almost had a nervous breakdown. He practically ran out of that place. I took the rest of his presents over to his house the next day. He was alone."

Lucy felt her heartbeat stutter. "So what?" she said.

"So, would you just call him? You're both fucking miserable human beings. I can't stand it. Deanna tried to talk to him about you on Thursday, but he was an asshole. We're sick of the bullshit. Grow up."

"You tell him to grow up and stop fucking every whore in town."

Jacob stood up. "Lucy, he DIDN'T. Are you not listening to me? He did not sleep with that girl. He hasn't said a word about anyone but you in the past five months. I swear to god."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "Yeah, whatever. I don't believe that for a second. He can keep on keeping on or whatever he does. I've got better things to do."

Throwing his hands up, Jacob walked across the room. "Yeah, Lucy. Like your garden and your hundreds of tomatoes." He jerked open the door.

"Yeah!" she yelled after him as he left. "My motherfucking garden!"

And then she sat there alone, looking at the rug by the door and wondering why she'd said she didn't believe Lupul was on the straight and narrow. Because, really, she wasn't sure. But if he was, why had he flaunted the girl at his party? Because she was talking to someone else? Dominic had turned out to be an idiot anyway. And she hadn't let him grope her crotch like Lupul had let blondie do.

**********************************

The conversation with Jacob stuck with her, but she didn't call Lupul on Wednesday. And she didn't call him on Thursday, but she did break down and turn on the first home game of the season to catch a glimpse of him. He didn't look like himself with all the gear and the helmet. The only way she could tell him apart from all the other players on the ice was the last name on the back of the jersey. She hadn't even known his number. How horrible was that? They'd been friends and she hadn't even cared enough to find out. She was a bad person.

She met two girlfriends who wanted to see the Ray LaMontagne show on Friday night. The venue was small and intimate with a bar set up at the back. While the girls went to grab a couple beers and a bottle of water for Lucy, she stood by herself in front of the stage and waited for the show to start. Pulling the sleeves of the knit shirt down to cover the heels of her hands, she shoved her hands in the pockets of her jeans.

She hadn't been to a show since The National with Lupul. In fact, her past two shows had been with him. It felt strange. Who'd stand behind her?

"Lucy?"

Lucy glanced over to her right. A man with blonde, shaggy hair was looking at her. He was vaguely familiar. For a moment she froze, unable to place him. Then she remembered. Phil Kessel. Fuck.

"Uh, hey Phil. How have you been?"

"Good, good," he replied, walking up and giving her a quick, one-armed hug around her shoulders. "Haven't seen you around much."

She shrugged. "Oh, you know. Busy and stuff." Panic was rising in her mind. Was Lupul here? She hadn't thought about him coming to the same concert.

"Hey, congratulations on completely fucking with Biz's head. I think he's still confused about why you told him to take a hike."

She forced a short laugh. "Not exactly my type. But I'm sure he found someone else."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure," Phil replied, laughing along with her. "So are you here with someone?"

"A couple friends. You?" Are you here with HIM, she thought. Lucy tried to hide the anxiety that was probably creeping into her eyeballs as she looked at Phil.

"Yeah, I came with Loops because he whined that he didn't have anyone to go with. I don't even know who this guy is. Do you? Ray something or other?"

"LaMontagne." Fuck, fuck, fuck. She needed to leave. Now.

"Yeah, yeah," Phil replied. "He any good?"

"Uh huh," Lucy replied, trying to discreetly search the crowd.

"Oh, hey! Loops!" Phil waved his hand in the air and then pointed down at Lucy's head. "Look who I found!"

She squeezed her eyes shut for a fraction of a second and then turned around. He was standing a few yards away. People were walking back and forth between them, but he had eyes only for her. And she couldn't stop staring either. He looked good. A little tired, but good. Gorgeous as always in a pair of jeans, a white tee, and a black jacket. There were two beers in his hands, but he seemed to have forgotten them.

"Lucy," Phil told Lupul, completely misreading the stare, thinking his friend didn’t recognize her.

"Yeah," Lupul said, shifting his eyes away to look to the stage. And then she watched him pull in a deep breath before pushing through a group of people who had stopped in front of him. “Here’s your beer,” he told Phil.

Phil took it and held it out to Lucy. “Here, you take this one. I’ll go get another.”

“No,” she said, holding her hand up. “I’m just here for the music. No beer for me.”

“Just one beer. On me,” he told her with a smile.

“I’m good,” Lucy replied, trying to ignore the way Lupul was watching her. What was she? An amoeba under a microscope?

The three of them stood there in awkward silence, Lucy trying to look everywhere but at Lupul. “So, you like this guy, yeah?” Phil asked.

Her eyes widened. “What guy?”

“Ray La...something, something.”

“LaMontagne,” both she and Lupul said together. She glanced up and locked gazes with him. “Yeah, he’s good,” she continued, unable to look away from his eyes.

Lucy jumped when her two friends walked up behind her. “Holy shit, the bar is crazy. This show needs to start so the people clear out and move this way,” Gemma said.

Now there were five of them and Lucy felt obligated to diffuse the discomfort by making introductions. She did so, letting everyone shake hands. Gemma already knew Lupul because she was friends with Jacob as well. But Alice was as clueless as Lucy felt; she did’t know anything about hockey.

When you got Phil away from guys like Paul Bissonnette, he really opened up and became more talkative and sweet. He immediately took to Alice and started talking with her about the show and what kind of music it was. Gemma jumped in and compared the music to other more well-known bands. Which left Lucy standing awkwardly next to Lupul.

She clenched her teeth together and looked at the floor, her arms crossed over her chest. If she tilted her head just right, her bangs fell down and shielded her eyes from his distracting body. And if she was expected to stand here beside him all night, then she was going to need a strong drink or three.

“I didn’t know you were going to be here,” he said, breaking the stiff and uncomfortable silence.

Lucy let out the breath she’d been holding. “Yeah, me neither. I mean, I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“How’s school?”

Oh god, she thought. She couldn’t do small talk with him. She was in love with him and it took everything she had not to punch him in the chest for what happened at his party. But she didn’t because that would break her hand. “The usual. Long division and book reports on The Phantom Tollbooth.”

“How’s your boyfriend?”

His question threw her off. “What?” she asked, looking over to hold his gaze. He seemed to be one part hurt and two parts angry. She was just three parts confused.

Notes