Live Girls by Ray Garton Read Free Book Online

water, rinsing off the soap.

    “You want sugar in this? Cream?"

    “Black."

    She went to his side and set the coffee on the counter as Davey dried his hands.

    “Trouble with Beth again, or what?” Casey asked. She watched his eyes slide slowly to her, heavy-lidded. It was a look of inward weariness, a silent What do you think? She decided not to pursue it just yet. She knew he would get to it in his own time. He always did.

    Davey reached for his coffee, but leaned forward heavily, his hands clamping the lip of the counter, a look of surprise on his face as his knees buckled.

    “Davey!” Casey gasped, grabbing his arm. “Jesus, sit down!” She pulled a chair away from the table for Davey, who seemed barely able to stand. “Sit!"

    Davey fell into the chair and leaned forward with his elbows on his thighs.

    She squatted down beside him, her hands on his arm.

    “Is there anything I can do?"

    “No, no,” he breathed, “I'm fine, really."

    “Fine?” she said softly. “Fine is not falling in the sink, Davey. What's wrong?"

    He looked at her. His eyes seemed sunken, the rich brown color that she loved so much dulled, and the flesh beneath dark and sagging. Even his cheeks seemed hollow. His skin was ashen, made even worse by the fluorescent lights in the lounge. One corner of his mouth trembled.

    “I didn't sleep last night. I'm just tired."

    Casey reached up and wiped away a drop of rainwater just below Davey's hairline. “Did she leave again?"

    Davey leaned back in the chair and exhaled slowly, nodding. He reached up and massaged his neck.

    Casey stood and folded her arms over her breasts, thinking, God, how I hate that woman .

    “She took everything with her this time,” Davey said. “She's not coming back.” He started to stand, but Casey put a hand on his shoulder.

    “Want your coffee?” she asked.

    He nodded and she handed it to him.

    “Stay there for a while."

    He blew on the coffee a few times. “It was inevitable, I guess."

    Casey knew exactly what was coming and closed her eyes a moment, hoping she would be wrong and he would surprise her. He didn't.

    “I suppose it's my fault,” he said quietly.

    Casey pushed herself away from the counter and got her coffee. “That did it. I don't want to hear any more."

    “What?"

    “If it's your fault — and, of course, it always is — I don't want to hear any more.” She faced him, one hand on her hip. “Somehow, Davey, you always manage to get involved with women who are such experts at relationships that it's impossible for them to make the smallest mistake. So you, a complete clod, come along and single-handedly ruin one relationship after another. Every time, without fail."

    Davey avoided her gaze.

    “I hope what I just said sounded stupid to you, because it was. But it's how you think ,” she said with frustration, “and I wish, for Christ's sake, you would stop it, because it takes two people to make it and two to break it!"

    He stood carefully and paced slowly to the other side of the lounge. “Yeah,” he said, “but I ... I think I...” He stopped, staring with tight lips at the floor between his feet. “She said that I'm ... well, what it boils down to is that she thinks I'm too good! ” He looked across the room and she saw clearly the confusion and hurt in his eyes. “What the hell's that supposed to mean? I didn't beat up on her like her old boyfriends. I was faithful, which is more than I can say for her! And she says ”— he started laughing through his words; cold, disbelieving laughter that sounded very unlike Davey —“ she says she can't stand me because I make her feel like a jerk! I don't know — I mean, I just —” He shook his head in defeat.

    Casey had heard this before; a few times, in fact. It hurt Casey to see that puppydog look he always got on his face. It made her want to hug him, hold him tight. Kiss him.

    They had spent one night together about two years ago and Casey had