Shoe Strings

a
queer look for talking to herself.  
    She’d get through this, she told herself for the hundredth time
that day.   She’d spent years, over a
decade, tamping down her feelings for Bryce.   She could do it again.   But this time she knew what she was
giving up.   She could picture it so
clearly, the love, the cherishing touches and words…STOP IT, she ordered herself.   With a huff that teetered toward tears,
she pushed out the front door and gulped for air, nearly barreling into Molly
Pearson, the old biddy from the bank.  
    “Goodness, Kerri Ann,” the woman fanned her face as if their
near collision had been life threatening.   “What on earth’s gotten you so upset?”
    Like she’d tell the town’s biggest busybody.   “Nothing, Molly.   Just needed some fresh air.”
    Molly clucked her tongue and narrowed her eyes.   “You look tired, Kerri Ann.   Course, having to deal with your
boyfriend’s drinking could do that to you.”
    “What are you talking about, Molly?”
    “Bryce.   Saw him
tie on a good one yesterday.”   She
moved closer as if to spare any passersby the details.   “I wouldn’t stand for him drinking if I
was you, Kerri Ann.   You remember
what happened to his daddy and his ma.”   She put a conciliatory hand on Kerri Ann’s arm before scooting on her
way.   What the hell?
    Oh God.   Had she
driven him to drink?   Bryce never
drank more than one or two, ever.   She’d never forget the shame on his face when he’d catch his dad
stumbling out of the tavern in the middle of the day or go home to find him
passed out on the couch.   And she’d
driven him into a drunken stupor, could drive him to more if he’d inherited his
dad’s love of the bottle.   She
looked down the street toward his office, could just make out the bumper of his
car as it sat along the curb next to Misty’s ancient beetle.  
    She’d taken off down the sidewalk before she even knew what
she was doing.   Not until she got to
the steps leading to the front door did she pause and wonder what she’d say,
how he’d react to seeing her.   She
was the last person who needed to warn him about drinking and probably the best
one to drive him to it, but she couldn’t stand herself for not trying to steer
him away from it.   With a visible
shake in her step, she mounted the stairs.
    The office smelled like him, like the manly goodness she’d
always associated with Bryce.   Misty
looked up from typing on her computer and shook her head at Kerri Ann.   Great, she thought.   Word travels fast.  
    “Can I help you with something?” she asked.   Although Kerri Ann stood over her, Misty
somehow managed to look down her nose at her.
    “Is Bryce….is he…can I see him?”   Kerri Ann swiped her sweaty palms on her
jeans.
    “I don’t think that’s such a great idea, Kerri Ann.”   Misty stood up as if to physically block
the hall toward his office.   “He’s…not been himself the last few days.   Your being here would probably make it
worse.”
    “But I—”
    Kerri Ann stopped when Bryce appeared in the hallway, all
six foot three of him.   He looked a
day or so from freshly shaved and he’d made a row of finger tracks through his
thick black hair.   “What are you doing
here?”   His voice sounded like
gravel.
    “I…” She just looked at him.   She could tell by his expression that he
couldn’t stand the sight of her.   She wanted to beg for mercy at his feet.   She didn’t think anything could be worse
than when he’d stormed out of her house that night, but seeing his quiet stare
of disgust was worse, so much worse.   “How are you?”
    “What do you want, Kerri Ann?”
    “I want to make sure you’re okay.   I heard, well, I heard you’d…” She
looked back at Misty, who wasn’t even trying not to listen.   “Can we discuss this in your office?”
    “No.”   His eyes
flickered.   “I don’t have time for
this.   In case you forgot, I’m not
your concern any longer.”  
    Okay, if he wanted a public scene, he’d get one.   “You’ve always been my concern,
Bryce.   I don’t expect that to
change.”
    He sneered.   “Since when, huh?   Since when
have I been your concern?   Since
when have you bothered to think about anything but what you want?”
    “What do you mean?”
    He took a step closer, then another when she tensed and
lifted her chin.   “How long have you
thought about me and my feelings?   How long have you cared