And this escalated after our relationship became physical.
Since she didn’t mind sharing personal stuff with me, I tested the waters and I told Janie about it. When I did, she told me having an orgasm your first time was so unusual, it was exceptional.
“Though,” she went on quietly, “not surprised that a man like Gray gave that to you. What I will say is that I sure am glad you gave a man like Gray what you had to give him.”
It must be said I really, really liked Janie.
The first time being great, it kept getting better. Gray told me his father taught him patience and I learned that to be true. I didn’t know who taught him gentleness but that was true too, out of bed as well as in it. Nudity, touching, tasting, sharing, kissing, holding and making love was safe with Gray. I didn’t feel self-conscious, not ever. He communicated, not with words most of the time, with his eyes, his hands, his mouth. He guided. He taught. He listened. He paid attention. He discovered what I liked (and we both enjoyed it, me more, obviously) and he showed me what he liked (and we both enjoyed it, him more, hopefully).
And it just kept getting better and better.
Janie told me that, too, was unusual.
So I looked forward to Gray, to talking to him, to being with him then cuddling with him and finally being with him.
And I looked forward to it a lot.
So I was in a good mood, in a good place, fifteen minutes away from Gray and unprepared for Casey to storm into the bar.
But even if he’d come in at high noon and I had hours to wait for Gray I would have been unprepared. Because even though Gray met him at the diner like he said and gave him five hundred dollars of his own money (something we had quiet words about and he refused to allow me to do it, I didn’t like it but it clearly meant something to him so I let him), I hadn’t seen Casey since that day at Gray’s.
And also because I was not then nor ever would be prepared for what Casey would do and say to me.
It went like this.
He walked right up to me, manner hurried, things on his mind, places to be. I knew him well so I knew that.
I just didn’t know what was on his mind, where he wanted to be and I would never have guessed he would take for granted wherever that place was, it would be with me.
When he made it to me, he said, “Come on, Ivey, let’s go.”
I stared at him and asked, “Where?”
“It’s fuckin’ cold up here. Tired of cold. I’m thinkin’ southern California, San Diego or maybe Tucson.”
San Diego or Tucson?
“What are you talking about?” I asked, so caught in my new life, what he was saying didn’t dawn on me.
He focused more on my face. “Next stop. San Diego. Tucson. Maybe Phoenix. Pack your shit. We’re on the road tonight.”
Was he crazy?
“Casey,” I said softly, “I’m not going to San Diego or Tucson. I’ve got a job. An apartment. I’m not going anywhere.”
That was when he really focused on me.
Then he declared, “Yeah you are. You’re comin’ with me.”
It hit me belatedly that his relationship with the mystery Mustang woman had crashed and burned.
“Oh Casey,” I whispered, moving to him, “did you break up with your girl?”
He jerked up his chin, eyes hard, hiding emotion he didn’t want anyone to see but I knew him. He couldn’t hide from me.
“Bitch ousted me. Just like that. Said pack your bags, out tonight. So I packed my bags, I’m out, we’re on the road and this shithole is in our dust.”
I studied him and I saw he wasn’t lying when he talked about her after they met. He liked her. And he was hurt.
“If you guys have had a fight, maybe you should give her a night to cool down. Go see her tomorrow. Talk it out,” I advised.
“Ivey,” he snapped, “you’re not listenin’ to me. We’re gone.”
“Honey, seriously, give her the night.”
“Yeah, give her the night,” he hissed sarcastically then went on in the same vein. “You gonna let me crash on your couch? Oh, I know, your friendly cowboy’ll let me crash at his pad.”
This meant he didn’t have any money.
“Yes, for the night, Casey, I’ll let you crash on my couch,” I offered cautiously at the same time trying to figure out how I’d convince Gray that was an okay idea.
“Fuck that,” he returned. “We’re goin’.”
“Casey, honey, I’m not going and if she means something to you, you shouldn’t either. You should give it a shot, work it out.”
“Relationship advice from my fuckin’ sister,” he muttered.
“Well, yeah, Casey. I know you. I love you. And you’re obviously hurt so I’m looking out for you and advising you should try to work it out.”
He leaned in, his face twisting and spat, “I’m not hurt. Bitch wanted to tie me down. Yammerin’ on every night, ‘Casey, you go to the plant and talk about a job?’ and ‘Casey, darlin’, saw an ad in the paper, sellin’ cars, you’d be good at that.’ Sellin’ cars. Fuckin’ crazy. That’s not me. I tell her that, she doesn’t listen to me just keeps at me with that shit. Fuck that, I’m done.”
At this speech it finally broke through. It dawned crystal clear that for the last month as I started my normal life with my job and my room and my boyfriend in this town, Casey had been going through the money I gave him, Gray gave him and undoubtedly his girl gave him. And no doubt he’d done it stupidly. And she was done giving money to him, feeding him, putting a roof over his head and a pillow under it. He probably promised her he’d step up. He didn’t. And she was done.
“Maybe you should take a second, think about what she said and look into those things, Casey,” I whispered my suggestion. “You don’t know. You might like it. I know I like waitressing. It’s fun. Maybe you’ll like doing something steady too.”
“Are you fuckin’ nuts?” Casey shot back. “This isn’t my life and it isn’t yours. We’re goin’.”
“Okay, if you’ve decided it isn’t your life, that’s fine for you. But it is mine and I’m not going anywhere,” I replied.
“We’re goin’,” Casey repeated.
“You can but I’m not,” I returned.
And that was when he shocked me straight to my core.
Because that was when my brother Casey lost it completely doing something he’d never, ever done to me.
And what he did was grab my arm, dip his face half an inch from mine, shake my arm hard and hiss, “Pack your fuckin’ bags, sis, we… are… goin’.”
Looking into his furious face, feeling his fingers wrapped tight around my arm, hearing Janie whispering probably into a phone behind me, I knew it.
I knew it then.
He needed me.
I understood it before but not in the same way.
He couldn’t make his own way. He couldn’t put gas in his car. He couldn’t feed himself.
Unless he used me.
Used me.
When Gray got angry with his uncle and made his declaration about no one using me, he didn’t mean Uncle Charlie. He meant Casey. He’d barely been around us but he’d seen it even before me.
That was why there were no connections but that rule was just for me. That was why I had to play it safe when he didn’t.
He found his girl who made his heart race; it was okay for me to find whatever I found.
But when he was done so was I.
I was his meal ticket.
I was all he had.
A long time ago, he was all I had. But as we got older, that had shifted. And instead of Casey finding us something safe, something steady, something right, something good and moving us into that kind of life, he was too scared or too dumb or too addicted to the hustle to do that.