Getting Over Edie Ch. 03

Besides, helping you out of a crisis is bound to score me some major karma points with the Powers-that-Be."

"I knew you had an ulterior motive" he joked.

She chuckled. "Hey, I never said I was a nice girl."

Grady nodded. "True. I'm expecting you to revert back to your former self the next time we meet."

"I mean, I could start now if you'd like. I've been meaning to make fun of your outfit since the night started."

He sighed dramatically. "And so it begins..."

"I'm just saying if you want to go through life looking like a reject from Phi Kappa Douche that's your business." She looked up at him, brown eyes sparkling with laughter.

Grady felt that familiar tug and realized it was his lips trying to form a grin. It was weird to think about laughter after months of feeling like the world was combusting all around him. In that brief moment, he forgot about feeling sad. He felt like old Grady, even if only for a little while.

"Oooh!" Arden exclaimed, hopping a little from her chair. "My phone's on vibrate," she explained, a sheepish grin on her face. Reaching into the front pocket of her jeans, she quickly read the text message. "Oh," she said.

"Something wrong?" Grady asked.

"No," she replied. "It's Stevie. Apparently the show's been over for almost two hours."

"Whoa. Where the hell did time go?" he asked.

"No idea. But the band is already at the after party spot. I'd better call and let her know I'm not lying in a back alley somewhere."

Grady nodded. "Yeah, I should probably head out. I've got some work to do."

"Okay." Arden reached for her wallet. We can split the bill..."

"No, no, no" he replied. "You helped me out tonight. I'll get this."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yeah, no problem. It's no big deal."

"Oh, okay. Well I should probably get going." She rose from the table.

Grady stood up with her. "I'll just settle this up at the front." He glanced at her. "Thanks again, Arden. You really helped me tonight."

She nodded. "No problem. I didn't really help. Just listened. It's all up to you now. Thanks for the pizza. See you later." With a wave, she was off.

********

Grady unlocked the door to his apartment. With a heaving sigh he shut the door behind him, leaning his bulk against the wall. Tonight had been a roller-fucking-coaster of emotions, to say the least. The shock of seeing Edie still left him feeling raw, and all the pizza and beer in the world wouldn't erase the fact that he missed her like hell.

Maybe Arden was right; maybe the key to moving on was to examine his relationship. If he was a little more honest with himself he would be able to let go of all the bullshit and finally stop feeling like a damn zombie, trudging through life at a snail's pace. It was time to be upfront, to come clean.

Shrugging off his hoodie, he walked the few steps to the closet in the hallway. He lugged out two giant blue bins and a small cardboard box. Kicking off his sneakers he sat down in the middle of his living room and with a big sigh, he opened one of the storage bins. He was instantly overtaken with the stale aroma of gardenias and peaches, the scent wrapping him in memories.

Grady felt the familiar ache of longing and fought hard to keep his mind at bay. There was no time for that. He had a job to do.

With a heavy sigh he continued the task; the boxes were filled with physical reminders of Edie: a bright green hairbrush she left in the bathroom, several pairs of jeans, t-shirts and a dress. Her signature scent was a faint imprint on every item. Grady set the clothes aside and focused on the other content of the bin.

After digging through random cards and receipts he discovered the photos. There were at least a hundred. Edie was a fan of taking pictures. She was never one to miss a photo op and Grady was only happy to oblige.

Scrolling through, he came across pictures of them at a winter festival in Connecticut. She was grinning at the camera, her hands snug in green mittens clutching a steaming cup of hot chocolate. It was a close-up shot, the camera capturing the caramel flecks in her warm brown eyes. There were several other shots, Edie making funny faces at the camera, the two of them frolicking in the snow, Edie throwing a snowball at the camera.

He couldn't help but smile when he saw the picture of the giant teddy bear he won for her playing the ring toss. The stuffed behemoth, a red and black plaid monstrosity barely fit inside the car on the ride home but Edie was in love with him. She promptly christened him Baxter Plaidpants.

There were other pictures. He watched their relationship progress through the seasons: summers spent at the cape, Thanksgiving with his family, and spring at the Mets' first game opening day. He laughed when he saw the photos of them dressed in his and hers sailor suits for a random "Night of Sea Men" Halloween party. There was a lot of history tucked away in those bins.

He lost himself in the contents, poring over the paraphernalia that forced him to remember his time with the woman who, at one point, was his whole world. Two hours later, his hand scraped the bottom of the last bin. Grady's breath hitched in his throat and suddenly he found it difficult to breathe.

His fingers closed around a small velvet box. He was shaking slightly as he brought the box into view. His back rested on the couch as he settled the box on his knee. He knew he'd run into this particular trinket eventually, but it still felt like a punch to the stomach.

Grady opened the box, the small gold hinges creaking, the sound like gunfire in the silence of his apartment. It was still there; the small white gold band, the cluster of diamonds surrounded by an emerald. Emeralds; they were her favorite.

Edie was always wearing green. It was her signature color. She said green was good luck; she was wearing a green dress when she nailed her first audition, had her first magazine shoot, and walked her first runway. Grady wasn't superstitious, but he could appreciate her ritual.

His brain felt heavy, the weight of his emotions threatening to overpower him. He needed to let some of it out. Still clutching the ring box, Grady left the clutter and sat at his computer desk. He opened a new document window, staring at the blinking cursor. It was time to be brutally honest, he thought. It was the only way to be fully freed from the madness. With a chuckle at his dramatic thoughts he flexed his fingers across the keyboard...

********

It was the night of her fashion show.

It's funny. When a relationship ends, we're in this state of momentary shock but it's also the point where we deny, deny, deny. There are so many reasons: we didn't see it coming, things were so good, or whatever pointless lies we tell ourselves to cover up the fact that most of us can pinpoint exactly where things went wrong.

For me and Edie, it was the night of her fashion show. Things had been weird for a few weeks. She was always a little wound up before big events, but for some reason, this time felt different.

There were a lot of late nights involved, full of industry parties, fittings, and reshoots.

Normally I wasn't fazed. No matter how late or tired she was, she would always come home to me.

But this time felt different.

I hated going to her events. They were so fucking boring, filled with vapid, selfish models and pompous industry types. Sure, being in the media I know my fair share of ridiculous people but in fashion everything seems magnified, even the egos. But I had to suck it up.

Tonight wasn't about how I felt. It was her time to shine. All I had to do was shove on the suit and play the dutiful and ever-attentive writer boyfriend.

Edie loved to show me off. "Oh by the way, this is my boyfriend Grady Kade. The writer." It was her emphasis on the "writer" part which made me uneasy, as if by constantly restating that her boyfriend was a writer was enough to make her seem less shallow and frivolous. But because I loved her, I let it go.

That's what love is, right? We know the faults of our partners, all the bad shit they hide from the rest of the world but we still love them any way. We're forgiving about a lot of shit we wouldn't normally put up with from our friends or family.

I always felt like a prop with Edie at those parties, but it was a two-way street. Whenever I had to go to a function for work or a writer's convention it made me feel like top dog walking in with a model on my arm. Women were envious of her and men were jealous of me because Edie Silva was MY girlfriend.

Nevertheless I was determined to be on my best behavior, to sip champagne and listen to talk about clothing patterns, eating disorders, and who was on what IT drug of the month. Tonight was supposed to be special, though. In a few days it would be her birthday. I was planning to surprise her with the ring, tonight. It would be a fitting end to her triumphant evening.

I kept telling myself it wasn't an engagement ring, but calling it a promise ring felt a little too after-school special. It just was. I'm not sure what I was trying to accomplish by the ring, but I viewed it as a token of my love and a glimpse of what could happen in the future.

I remember adjusting my tie and hearing REO Speedwagon. It was her. Whenever she had a show she always left earlier than I did, getting ready backstage with the other models. It was no big deal. I was a big boy and could navigate the city on my own.

I'll always remember her tone when she answered the phone. I didn't notice it at the time, but now I recognize that voice as goodbye. She was leaving that night and I was completely oblivious.

"Hey baby. I'm almost ready. I'll be there soon, I promise."

"Grady," she started. She was nervous. Even though she'd been in the U.S. for almost nine years, her accent was always more pronounced whenever she was nervous. Or upset. Or turned on. Or when she was lying.

"What's wrong, Edie? Everything's going to be okay. You're gonna rock that shit tonight."

"I know things are going to go well. I just...something happened with your seat. They gave it away."

"What? How could that have happened?"

"I don't know, honey and I am so pissed right now." Looking back I should have realized that she never actually sounded upset. "I'm just letting you know what's up. There's an after party at Bent. I will make sure you are on that list."

"It's okay, babe. You go ahead and enjoy your night."

"Are you sure? You know how much I love having you here with me."(Lies.)

"It's fine. I'll be here when you get home. I love you."

"I have to go. Make-up is calling for me."

She never came home that night. Later, in one of the raging arguments we had in those final days I found out she fucked one of the male models, the one she was always working with. She cried when she confessed, big fucking crocodile tears all the while blaming it on the alcohol and lines of whatever party favors that were passed around.

I remember being so numb to her news. I knew something happened, when I woke up alone, her side of the bed completely cold. I knew she was pulling away from me. It started out small, awkward silences over breakfast, my accusatory tone whenever her phone rang. We just couldn't get past her cheating. I couldn't get past it. Something broke inside of me that chilly night in October.

It's only now that I recognize the sound as the first real crack of my heart.

********

Grady looked up from the computer screen, shocked to see slivers of early morning peeking through the blinds. Glancing at the clock on the desk he was surprised to learn it was seven-fifteen in the morning. Time always escaped him when he was writing. He blinked rapidly, blindly reaching for the pack of cigarettes and lighter lying on the desk near his laptop. He sighed tiredly, lighting the cigarette and taking a deep drag.

It was rough, dredging up all the shit he'd been determined to keep locked inside forever. The hurt felt fresh, the anger was still running deep, and he still had the rampant desire to break shit the fuck apart. He wanted to smash something, tear shit to pieces, the symbolic representation of how he felt.

He was torn at the seams, but the pain served its purpose. In some twisted way reliving that night and the weeks of hell afterward allowed him some sort of peace, the balm he lacked when ignoring the problem or trying to cover it up with alcohol and shitty food.

He was spending way too much time with his thoughts. It was time to get out of his damn head and back into the real world. First things first, he needed cleansing, inside and out. Taking the cigarette from his lips, he stubbed it out in the glass ashtray on the desk.

Grady retrieve several black trash bags from his kitchen. He tossed the cigarettes in along with the ashtray, his fingers already twitching from the absence of the nicotine. Ignoring the urge to dive in after the pack, he turned his gaze to the contents of the upturned bins.

Grady knew what he had to do; he'd been walking with a ghost for far too long. It was time to put this relationship to rest. With a long sigh he gathered up all the stuff from the bins and stuffed everything into the bags. Every pair of jeans, every photo...all the keepsakes went to their respective bags. He put the clothes in a separate bag to donate, and the rest was garbage.

It took him a full hour, walking around his apartment and retrieving every single item of hers. The sun was fully up now, shining through the windows and bathing him in new hope. Two trips to the downstairs dumpster and one trip to the Goodwill store three blocks down and he was finally free from his physical reminders.

He yawned, jaw cracking in the quiet of the early morning hour. He had to be at work in three hours but his body was screaming for rest. He decided on the power nap, curling up on the couch. Grady barely set the alarm on his phone before his eyes were closed.

********

Two Weeks Later...

"I hope you have more where that came from, because you're definitely going to need it." Nell shot him a wry smile as she shuffled some papers around on her desk.

"What do you mean?" Grady asked.

"What I mean is that this latest Go-To Guy article is a smash. There were 50,000 hits on the website for the piece and it's the talk on various blogs."

Grady's blue eyes widened. "Whoa, really?"

Nell nodded, pushing her white frame glasses further on her nose. "Grady, people are interested in what you have to say. And I, for one, want to give them the full experience. Isn't it time men have their side heard when it comes to love and loss?"

Grady agreed. He was still in a state of shock, but he definitely agreed.

"I think we could really turn this into something big," Nell said with something Grady recognized as excitement in her voice. Now THAT definitely threw him for a loop. Nell was completely cool, never really showing a variety of emotion. "I'm going to need you to bring your A-game next month. Do you have any ideas so far?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. How do you feel about me starting a blog?"

Nell's eyes widened behind her white glasses. "A blog?"

He nodded. "Yeah. See, I figured I'd start a blog in conjunction to writing the articles. I'm making some serious changes in my life and I want to chronicle this journey."

Nell smiled approvingly. "Well, looks and brains. Welcome back to the creative world, Mr. Kade. I think a blog is a good way to build up to the monthly articles and create a line of communication between you and your fans. I look forward to reading it."

"Actually, I was thinking..."

"Yes?" she asked, her eyebrows arched in suspicion.

"I was thinking...what if I made the blog the sole focus of the articles? I could turn several journal entries into one big column. It would really give the reader inside information. The articles wouldn't be carbon copies of the blog, but rather they would serve as a buoy to the blog."

Nell looked at him with a mixture of surprise and admiration. The look was quickly replaced with her usual 'no nonsense' visage. "Let's see how you manage to pull this on off," she said. With a wave, she dismissed him. "Oh, and have the first draft of next month's piece in my inbox by next Tuesday."

He nodded, giving her a salute and stepping out into the hallway, walking brusquely towards his cubicle. Amidst the congratulations and nods of approval from his fellow co-workers, he was feeling better than he had in months. The Edie purge in his apartment was working wonders for his piece of mind.

While he'd thrown out that one pack of cigarettes, he'd realized going cold turkey probably wasn't the best idea and instead cut back to only one cigarette a day. After he got over the first two days of wanting to eat everything in sight, he bought a bunch of gum and resolved to stick to his guns.

So far, it was actually kind of great. He felt much better, especially when he had to climb stairs. Huffing and gasping for air wasn't the look he was going for.

Grady checked his watch. It was nearly three. Just for shits and giggles he decided to check the EDGE website to read the comments on his article. He was really surprised to see all the positive feedback. Men and women alike commented on his realistic analysis and heartfelt words. It gave him a surge of pride, to know that complete strangers were reading and connecting with his words.

He couldn't help but wonder if Edie read the article. He promised himself that he wouldn't dwell on her, but in this particular situation he allowed his mind to wander. She was probably too occupied with her new boyfriend to pay his magazine any attention.

Okay, he wasn't going there; whatever was going on with Edie was no longer his concern. He couldn't let thoughts of her consume him. There was hope of a normal existence beyond his breakup. He had to think positive.

As if on cue, his cell phone began to ring. The new ringtone took some getting used to. It was the first step to "truly fulfilling his cosmic destiny", whatever that meant. Unconsciously, he nodded his head along to Jay-Z's "99 Problems". It was so damn true at the moment; he may have a lot to work on, but luckily a bitch wasn't one of them. "Hey homie," he said while answering the phone.

Benny snorted. "I see someone's in a better mood."

"I'm getting better," he said with a nod. "What's doing?"

"Not much. Just thought I'd check in with you. It's been about a minute since I seen you."

"Yeah, asshole. We were about to start calling around to the morgues in town. Where you been?"

"Why? You the only one allowed to be anti-social?" Grady chuckled. "Touché. Seriously though, dude. Tony and I hadn't seen you in almost a week and a half. We were getting kinda worried."

"Well, keep your panties un-bunched, little girl. I was just taking care of some business."

"Mmm-hmm. What's her name?"

"Man, what are you talking about? There's no one! I just got a lot of things going on down at the shop." Benny co-owned an auto shop with his brother. "We've got a lot of custom orders in that I have to take care of."

"Sure buddy, whatever you say." Grady knew he wasn't telling the truth. Whenever Benny started off a sentence with 'Man' there was bound to be a bold ass lie following suit. Grady wasn't going to hassle him for it, though.

Whatever (or whomever) Benny was hiding the situation would come to light at some point. "I'm gonna let you stay in whatever shit you're dealing with for now. But trust me, I'll find out what you're hiding."

Benny scoffed. "Listen here, Tom Brokaw, you need to be worrying about catching all the free pussy from that sappy ass article you wrote instead of concentrating on what I'm doing."