At Peace
Page 127
“We were!”
“Vi, since we started I been home twice when you weren’t in my f**kin’ bed. How the f**k is that over?”
I didn’t know if this was true, though I reckoned it was, but it didn’t matter. We were still over. However I knew I’d never convince Joe of that.
Therefore, I snapped, “It’s ridiculous to fight about this.”
“You’re absolutely right,” he bit out, making it sound like I was the one being ridiculous.
Not liking that one bit, I therefore declared, “You’re not movin’ in for good.”
His face went from scary to sinister, he took two steps toward me, his legs being long meaning this brought him into my space and he looked down at me.
“I’m in,” he clipped.
“You can’t be. This is too fast. The girls –”
“Yeah, the girls. Better for them I move in then move out for no f**kin’ reason then move f**kin’ in again?”
It pissed me off but he had a point so I changed strategies.
“We haven’t even been on a date!” I cried.
He stared at me like he didn’t know who I was then he muttered irately, “Jesus Christ.”
“Joe –” I started but his hand came up, it did this fast, he hooked me at the back of my neck and pulled me in and up. I fell into his body, my hands going to his chest, he bent at the waist and neck and his face was an inch from mine.
“As f**kin’ ridiculous and clueless as you’re bein’ right now, when you aren’t bein’ that, this is us, this is good, this is where we are and this is where we’re stayin’. I’m not dickin’ around with you anymore. I told you, I’m movin’ in and I’m sellin’ my house. Sellin’ my house means I’d have no house which means I’m moving in.” Then he finished, now sounding not only angry but also frustrated at my stupidity. “Christ, Vi, what did you think?”
I didn’t back down even knowing he was losing more of his temper, he was bigger than me, stronger than me and scarier than me. “Obviously, I thought you were staying until your house got renovated.”
“Yeah, to get sold. Then what?”
“I didn’t think about that!”
“No, you didn’t, but that didn’t mean I didn’t f**kin’ tell you.”
“You didn’t spell it out either!” I snapped.
“Maybe you might wanna learn to come to the obvious conclusion,” he suggested.
“And maybe you might wanna learn that this is me this is how I am. I’ve always got a million things on my mind. I don’t need more so you need to spell it out.”
He didn’t reply, just kept his mouth shut but I saw a muscle flex in his jaw.
“We need to talk about you moving in,” I went on and his other arm went around me at the waist, pulling me into his body and he did this hard so my hands were caught between us.
“I’m in.”
“Joe –”
He cut me off saying, “Seventeen years… no, longer… I’ve been waitin’ for you, waitin’ for those girls. You’re here and I’m lettin’ go of my shit, finally f**kin’ movin’ on from all that, movin’ on to something good in my life, something to wake up and get outta bed for and I’m not leavin’ it because of some hang up you have. You and me, I haven’t made it easy, I’ll admit that, but that’s done. You gotta get over it or you’re never gonna move on. I’m movin’ on, Kate and Keira are movin’ with me. It’s only you who’s gotta keep the f**k up.”
I felt winded again so I had to force out my, “Joe –”
“And I’m not livin’ under the cloud of how it began, Vi. I f**ked up, you know why, I explained it. You don’t accept that, you keep handin’ me this shit, we’ll have problems we can’t overcome and then I’ll move on a different way and you’ll be right back where you f**kin’ started.”
I felt my body get tight. “Are you threatening to leave?”
“I’m not livin’ under that cloud,” he repeated.
“How can you threaten to leave when you’re arguing about staying?” I demanded to know (and I did this loudly).
“God f**king dammit,” he bit out, his voice nearly a snarl then he let me go, turned away, ripped the sheet of paper off the top of the pad and stated, “I’m gettin’ steaks. Sort your f**kin’ head out while I’m gone.”
And as I stood in the kitchen staring at him, he whistled for the dog and both Mooch and Joe walked out (well, Mooch kind of trotted), they went to his truck and they drove to the store.
Why he took Mooch, I had no idea and I was too angry to care.
The time he spent at the store I did not spend, as ordered, sorting my “fuckin’” head out. Instead, I spent it thinking Joe was a jerk and I should never have started it with him. I spent more time thinking this was never going to work, primarily because he was a jerk.
He arrived home with two bags of groceries in one hand, his phone at his ear in his other hand and Mooch, in doggie heaven after getting a ride in Joe’s truck, at his heels.
He stayed on the phone while I started up the grill for the steaks and seasoned them (I also seasoned good steaks, salt and pepper, seasoning salt and Worcestershire sauce, brilliant), put some new potatoes on the boil and got the water ready for the peas when they needed to go in.
Then I took the steaks to the grill and was in the beginning processes of ruining them (with Tina sitting on her deck, reading a magazine and drinking a cocktail) when Joe came out and plucked the fork right out of my hand.
“I’m grilling steaks,” I snapped, glaring up at him.
“Yeah, now I’m grilling steaks,” Joe clipped back then fiddled with the knobs.
“What are you doing? I have it like I want it.”
“It’s too hot, Vi.”
“So?”
“You’re gonna burn ‘em.”
I crossed my arms on my chest, threw out a foot, tilted a hip and shot back, “I’ve been doing things just fine for nearly two years without your help, I think I can grill a couple f**king steaks.”
He glowered at me, I glared right back then he said, “Right,” handed me the fork and walked away.
I turned back to the grill, saw Tina smirking in my direction, I ignored her, readjusted the knobs and finished ruining the steaks.
“Vi, since we started I been home twice when you weren’t in my f**kin’ bed. How the f**k is that over?”
I didn’t know if this was true, though I reckoned it was, but it didn’t matter. We were still over. However I knew I’d never convince Joe of that.
Therefore, I snapped, “It’s ridiculous to fight about this.”
“You’re absolutely right,” he bit out, making it sound like I was the one being ridiculous.
Not liking that one bit, I therefore declared, “You’re not movin’ in for good.”
His face went from scary to sinister, he took two steps toward me, his legs being long meaning this brought him into my space and he looked down at me.
“I’m in,” he clipped.
“You can’t be. This is too fast. The girls –”
“Yeah, the girls. Better for them I move in then move out for no f**kin’ reason then move f**kin’ in again?”
It pissed me off but he had a point so I changed strategies.
“We haven’t even been on a date!” I cried.
He stared at me like he didn’t know who I was then he muttered irately, “Jesus Christ.”
“Joe –” I started but his hand came up, it did this fast, he hooked me at the back of my neck and pulled me in and up. I fell into his body, my hands going to his chest, he bent at the waist and neck and his face was an inch from mine.
“As f**kin’ ridiculous and clueless as you’re bein’ right now, when you aren’t bein’ that, this is us, this is good, this is where we are and this is where we’re stayin’. I’m not dickin’ around with you anymore. I told you, I’m movin’ in and I’m sellin’ my house. Sellin’ my house means I’d have no house which means I’m moving in.” Then he finished, now sounding not only angry but also frustrated at my stupidity. “Christ, Vi, what did you think?”
I didn’t back down even knowing he was losing more of his temper, he was bigger than me, stronger than me and scarier than me. “Obviously, I thought you were staying until your house got renovated.”
“Yeah, to get sold. Then what?”
“I didn’t think about that!”
“No, you didn’t, but that didn’t mean I didn’t f**kin’ tell you.”
“You didn’t spell it out either!” I snapped.
“Maybe you might wanna learn to come to the obvious conclusion,” he suggested.
“And maybe you might wanna learn that this is me this is how I am. I’ve always got a million things on my mind. I don’t need more so you need to spell it out.”
He didn’t reply, just kept his mouth shut but I saw a muscle flex in his jaw.
“We need to talk about you moving in,” I went on and his other arm went around me at the waist, pulling me into his body and he did this hard so my hands were caught between us.
“I’m in.”
“Joe –”
He cut me off saying, “Seventeen years… no, longer… I’ve been waitin’ for you, waitin’ for those girls. You’re here and I’m lettin’ go of my shit, finally f**kin’ movin’ on from all that, movin’ on to something good in my life, something to wake up and get outta bed for and I’m not leavin’ it because of some hang up you have. You and me, I haven’t made it easy, I’ll admit that, but that’s done. You gotta get over it or you’re never gonna move on. I’m movin’ on, Kate and Keira are movin’ with me. It’s only you who’s gotta keep the f**k up.”
I felt winded again so I had to force out my, “Joe –”
“And I’m not livin’ under the cloud of how it began, Vi. I f**ked up, you know why, I explained it. You don’t accept that, you keep handin’ me this shit, we’ll have problems we can’t overcome and then I’ll move on a different way and you’ll be right back where you f**kin’ started.”
I felt my body get tight. “Are you threatening to leave?”
“I’m not livin’ under that cloud,” he repeated.
“How can you threaten to leave when you’re arguing about staying?” I demanded to know (and I did this loudly).
“God f**king dammit,” he bit out, his voice nearly a snarl then he let me go, turned away, ripped the sheet of paper off the top of the pad and stated, “I’m gettin’ steaks. Sort your f**kin’ head out while I’m gone.”
And as I stood in the kitchen staring at him, he whistled for the dog and both Mooch and Joe walked out (well, Mooch kind of trotted), they went to his truck and they drove to the store.
Why he took Mooch, I had no idea and I was too angry to care.
The time he spent at the store I did not spend, as ordered, sorting my “fuckin’” head out. Instead, I spent it thinking Joe was a jerk and I should never have started it with him. I spent more time thinking this was never going to work, primarily because he was a jerk.
He arrived home with two bags of groceries in one hand, his phone at his ear in his other hand and Mooch, in doggie heaven after getting a ride in Joe’s truck, at his heels.
He stayed on the phone while I started up the grill for the steaks and seasoned them (I also seasoned good steaks, salt and pepper, seasoning salt and Worcestershire sauce, brilliant), put some new potatoes on the boil and got the water ready for the peas when they needed to go in.
Then I took the steaks to the grill and was in the beginning processes of ruining them (with Tina sitting on her deck, reading a magazine and drinking a cocktail) when Joe came out and plucked the fork right out of my hand.
“I’m grilling steaks,” I snapped, glaring up at him.
“Yeah, now I’m grilling steaks,” Joe clipped back then fiddled with the knobs.
“What are you doing? I have it like I want it.”
“It’s too hot, Vi.”
“So?”
“You’re gonna burn ‘em.”
I crossed my arms on my chest, threw out a foot, tilted a hip and shot back, “I’ve been doing things just fine for nearly two years without your help, I think I can grill a couple f**king steaks.”
He glowered at me, I glared right back then he said, “Right,” handed me the fork and walked away.
I turned back to the grill, saw Tina smirking in my direction, I ignored her, readjusted the knobs and finished ruining the steaks.
