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Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781462054183 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | iUniverse, Incorporated |
| Publication date: | 10/10/2011 |
| Pages: | 372 |
| Product dimensions: | 6.00(w) x 9.00(h) x 0.83(d) |
Read an Excerpt
Memphis Nights
By Orlando Trevino
iUniverse, Inc.
Copyright © 2011 Orlando TrevinoAll right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4620-5418-3
Chapter One
It's said that most people lie at least three times a day. But what happens when you start to realize that you're exceeding your daily quota, especially when you're lying to yourself? When every word coming out of your mouth seems like a lie, you know it's time for a change. It doesn't matter if you're talking to a co-worker, the kid behind the Starbucks counter, or even your significant other. If the words you're exchanging with these people aren't true to you or to them, then what good are you doing for anyone?It was at this point that I realized it was time to change my life. No longer could I just pretend that everything around me was the way I wanted it to be or that I still felt as if I had a future being where I was.
My life was a routine, plain and simple. There was no spontaneity, fun, or pleasure. There were only mundane actions and conversations with people about things that didn't really matter to me. I was used to it, and I didn't try to fight it. That was my life. At least that's what I kept telling myself every night as I dozed off with the help of a couple of pills.
Every morning, I'd wake up feeling like everything was perfect—a feeling that lasted for a split second. Then the cognitive part of my brain came to life and reminded me that I was stuck in a hamster wheel.
"Just kill me and get it over with," was the thought that typically came to mind. However, that would have been too easy. I knew what I needed to do. The difficult part was accepting it and doing something about it. A friend had once told me that there is a huge difference between waking up to a job and waking up to a purpose. Little did I know how true it was when she said it.
I had found myself getting lost for many years. Yes, I had a decent job, a fancy car, and a nice house. To a lot of people, those "things" might equate to having a great life. But none of those "things" made me genuinely happy. There was a void that money, work, or any number of material things wasn't going to fill.
For over thirty years, I had spent every waking moment taking care of everyone else. After high school, I took care of my family when they had gotten sick. After they passed, I automatically started helping my friends deal with their issues. But not once had I ever done anything to make me happy.
My biggest problem since childhood had always been my self-esteem. Even though people always told me I was funny and a kick to hang out with, inside, I felt like an insecure child, trying to get people's attention. I was never happy with the way I looked, sounded, or acted because I never thought I was good enough.
I had grown to accept my insecurities and occasional shyness. But in many ways, these were the sources of all my problems. I spent so many years trying to help and please everyone so I would be accepted and liked that, after a while, I forgot to please myself. I did what everyone else wanted to do simply to be a part of the group, and I went along with other people's opinions so I wouldn't rock the boat. So, yeah, you could say I was a "yes man."
I hate to say that I blamed my parents for my issues. But don't we all, in one form or another? I knew they loved me. That was easy to see. What I never received was the extra push that helped most kids pop out of their shells. I was brought up to be the "good" son who always helped others before I ever thought about helping myself.
If there had been a support group for people like me when I was younger, I would have joined purely to hear myself say, "My name is Trey Williams, and I need help."
The recent break-up in my life had also helped to kick my life into gear. My partner and I had been together for a long time, but somehow we drifted apart. We still cared for each other and always would. I knew that would always be the case. But lately, our lives were going in separate directions. He was content with the quiet home life we had created. I yearned for more out of my life and career.
Once we had slipped apart, it made the notion of moving on with my life that much easier. It was time to look after myself and do what I wanted to do. I knew that moving away and leaving everything familiar behind wasn't going to guarantee me a successful future, but wasn't I entitled to try?
A few people knew what I was thinking. Most of them were excited for me. They realized that I needed to do what was right for me and not keep trying to please the whole world around me. Others were concerned that I was being rash. They wondered whether I should stay and try to fix what was wrong before resorting to something as drastic as moving away.
I had already thought about staying. But it didn't feel right. Maybe because, in my heart, I knew that staying wasn't going to fix anything. I had changed and wanted new things in my life.
Ultimately, I realized that the only person I needed to listen to was me. No matter what I was afraid of or how much I knew it was going to hurt, it was time to make my life into what I wanted it to be.
"I think it's time. It's not working here anymore, and I'm tired of pretending. I'm leaving." I had said those exact words to my small group of friends only a few weeks ago.
Making the statement out loud had taken a lot of courage. Taking action took more. Afterward, though, it felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.
The thunderous sound of the approaching storm shook me from my reverie as I drove over the Hernando De Soto Bridge, or the "M Bridge" as I would come to learn, into Memphis, Tennessee.
The weather reports said it had been raining in Memphis and the surrounding areas for three days straight, with continued downpours expected for another two days. The dark skies seemed to keep dropping rain and raising the humidity, making it feel oppressive. I was quickly learning what it was going to be like living in the South during the summer.
For the past fifteen hundred miles, I had been telling myself that I was making the right decision by starting over at this point in my life. I knew that pretending and faking your way through life wasn't enough for anyone. Especially me.
Finding a place to start my new life had been the hard part. Each time I thought about moving forward, there was only one place that kept popping back into my head. It was a crazy idea. But for some odd reason in my gut, I felt it was right.
Before long, I had convinced myself that Memphis, Tennessee, seemed like the best choice. I had met Riley Dubois and Lane Spencer a year earlier, and we had become fast friends. Between phone calls, text messages, and e-mails, we had pretty much learned everything there was to know about one another without having seen each other in person for months.
My friends had been thrilled about the idea of me coming to live in the South. They had planned several things for us to do during my first few days to help get me acclimated and familiar with the city. That gesture alone told me that I had friends willing to help me out in a time of need. Before my journey across country had even started, Riley and Lane had already gone out of their way to make me feel at home.
It was nerve-racking to know that I was about to make a fresh start with no direction at all. On the other hand, after so many years of planning every inch of my life, it felt good to just fly by the seat of my pants for once.
I had been job hunting in Memphis from the moment I had decided it was where I belonged. However, unless I wanted to flip burgers or stock store shelves, nothing promising had come my way. Riley had already reassured me repeatedly that there was nothing to worry about. Because he knew so many people in Memphis, it meant I had an "in" with most of the businesses in town.
The loud chirp from my cell phone stopped my thoughts in mid-stream. A new text message had arrived and I already knew who it was from without even having to reach for the phone.
"Where you at?"
Riley had been texting me throughout the drive to make sure I wouldn't get lost or lose my nerve and turn around. It was already too late for that! I had already left everything behind and was ready for something new. All I had to do was take a deep breath and relax, I told myself as I entered the city limits.
"Just got here. Be at your house soon."
That was all that needed to be said. We would see each other soon enough and talk until the sun came up. Of that I was certain.
Since it was Sunday afternoon, I knew Riley was still busy working his open houses. Like so many other realtors across the country, weekends were usually his busiest time. Riley knew how to work hard. But he knew how to play even harder when he had the chance.
I knew his partner, Lane, was home because he only worked weekdays. With any luck, he would have a cocktail waiting for me along with a nice comfortable bed. I had been driving for so long that all I wanted was to lie down and have a drink. Not necessarily in that order. I had already been warned that my first night in town was going to be cause for celebration. As much as I was looking forward to it, all I wanted to do was sleep.
I was no "virgin" when it came to going out with my friends. I had visited Memphis before and fell victim to the overindulging that normally followed a night out. Before that, I had partied with my new friends during a vacation, which was how we had met. Even then, they had taken me under their wing and shown me a great time—the kind of time I rarely got to have with my partner or friends back home.
Being with the boys from Memphis had always felt right. I couldn't explain it then and I can't now. For some reason, from the moment we met, we all simply clicked. Riley and Lane had become the friends I had always wished for in my life.
They were the kind of friends who would cheer you up if the world seemed against you. They would drag you out on your birthday—no matter how old you felt—and even listened to your problems without complaining. Each time I was with them, it was a great time. So I knew exactly what I was getting into by moving there.
I had never met anyone like Riley. With his six-foot lean frame, bright smile and sweet green eyes, he was not only attractive but had the best social personality in the world. The only way I think he could ever dislike someone was if they kicked his dog or drank the last of his vodka. Everywhere we went, I saw how people seemed to flock to him. Whether they were old friends or soon-to-be new ones didn't matter. Riley was the life of the party.
Lane was sweet but slightly more reserved. It was hard for me to figure him out at first. I wasn't sure if he even liked me when we had met, but Riley set me straight.
"That's just him. Give him some time," Riley told me.
Which I did, and before long he had loosened up and started treating me as if we were old friends. It didn't take long for me to realize that Lane was the anchor in their relationship. The way that Lane took care of Riley and their home made it obvious. Being the sedate one in their relationship, Lane preferred to plan things out, which balanced Riley's love for spontaneity and having fun.
The last time we had all been together, I had met over two dozen of Lane's and Riley's friends. Which was only the tip of the iceberg. I was sure I'd see most of them my first night in town. I only hoped I could remember at least one of their names.
The rain had started falling harder as I made my way through town. People dashed into and out of buildings, carrying umbrellas. Others shielded their heads with newspapers that had, only hours before, told them everything they needed to know about their day, including the weather.
Another loud rumble of thunder shook my car as I turned onto the tree-lined street that Riley and Lane called home. Nothing had really changed since I had been there. Every house was still as quaint as I remembered. The boys had told me long ago how nice and friendly the neighbors were, and they weren't kidding.
During my first visit, I had met most of their neighbors. I wasn't sure if it was because they had told people I was coming or if they were all curious to meet the boy from out-of-town, but every single one of them had been as gracious as could be. I think it was then that I thought, "Memphis could grow on me quickly."
As I pulled up to their house, I felt good, finally breathing a sigh of relief. The long drive was over, and now I could say I was home.
Glancing toward the house, I felt a smirk cross my face as I saw Lane leaning against the porch, holding a tall glass, and smiling back. He didn't need to wave. The glass in his hand was greeting enough for me.
"That better not be water," I told him, pulling myself out of the car.
"What the hell do you think it is?" he shouted back.
Next to my on-again off-again relationship with Jack Daniels, vodka-and-Sprite was my favorite companion, although we hadn't seen much of each other lately.
* * *
"Hey, boo, you made it," Riley said, bounding into the guest room. "So what's the plan?"
"Sleep," I replied wryly.
I knew what was coming next, but I waited to see if I was going to be right. We knew each other pretty well by now, so the odds were in my favor.
"Screw that! We're heading to Dish for happy hour, then to Alex's for dinner. You can sleep tomorrow."
Seeing the look on my face, without missing a beat, Riley continued, "You wanted a social life with friends. Now you got it. Get your ass dressed and be ready in ten."
Riley didn't say another word. He didn't have to. Winking at me, he dashed off down the hall, grinning from ear to ear.
Throwing my own words back at me as motivation was a nice move. It made me appreciate how well Riley had come to know me. It took me less than ten minutes to get cleaned up. By the time I made it down the stairs, both Lane and Riley were gloating at the fact that they had been right.
"I told you it would work," Riley smugly shouted.
"Oh, shut up," I muttered, walking between the pair.
Chapter Two
Hangovers didn't usually bother me, but this one was a killer, which meant last night had been a great night on the town. We had started the evening by going to Dish to meet a few friends before heading to Alex's for dinner.One drink had led to two and, before I knew it, I was feeling a great buzz running through me as we arrived at Alex's apartment. It was tradition for the large group of friends to get together every Wednesday night for dinner. With my arrival, things had been pushed up a few days as a way to welcome me to town. Everyone arrived a little early to catch up, enjoy a few cocktails, and hang out while dinner was prepared.
Alex grinned happily as the three of us walked into his home. My mind was a little fuzzy, but thankfully I still remembered everyone there and didn't worry about feeling out of place.
"Hola!" Alex greeted happily, wrapping his arms around me tightly. "So you made it safely, huh?"
Alex was a sweetheart and one Riley's closest friends. I'd only met him in person once during my visit to Memphis last year, but since then we had stayed in touch by phone and e-mail. He had quickly become one of my dearest friends, too. He was genuinely kind with a great attitude and outlook on life.
"Yep, got in about four hours ago," I replied, waving at everyone else in the room.
"And judging by the look on your face, I'd say the three of you already went out to celebrate your arrival?"
"You hush," Riley barked. "We stopped for a drink to welcome him into town. That's all."
"I'd believe that, but I know you too well."
It was nice hearing them banter back and forth like that again. I had been lucky enough to be a part of it, but usually only in texting and e-mails. Hearing it again in person quickly brought a smile to my face.
Glancing around at the immaculate apartment, I was surprised to see all of the regulars from their traditional Wednesday dinners in attendance. The weekly ritual was jokingly called "church night" since it occurred on Wednesday, the day that some people traveled to their place of worship for guidance. In many ways, what Riley and his friends did on Wednesdays was exactly the same thing, minus the priest and need to dress up. It was a good way to break up the week, talk about their days, and blow off steam with the help of a little alcohol here and there.
"I thought we were just having dinner?" I said aloud.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Memphis Nights by Orlando Trevino Copyright © 2011 by Orlando Trevino. Excerpted by permission of iUniverse, Inc.. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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