“What?” I asked.
“I don’t get you sometimes.”
“Get what?”
“You were such a skateboarding punk when I met you. Right? You were basically homeless. Then your aunt and uncle help raise you. You look like you’re the size of a truck now, man. And you had everything in your hand. Everything, Rams. I don’t get it.”
“Just like I don’t get why you fucking married Mary when this was going to happen to you,” I said. “You want to go down that path with me? Pick apart everything the other person did right or wrong?”
“No,” he said. “Sorry for saying anything. And sorry for whatever happened with Sarah. She was nice. Really pretty too. I thought she was slowly starting to tame you a little.”
“They all try, but none can,” I said. “That’s the problem. They try.”
Matt chuckled. “Have a good night, man. I’m going to give Mary a call.”
“Good luck,” I said.
I went inside and walked through the old house. The large eat-in kitchen that had tons of windows for the sunrise each morning. The family dining room with a table that I had never used once. The way each room was perfectly laid out with its own entrance and exit, with custom wooden trim that was older than old and only needed a little touch-up to bring out the beauty of it. I gave a shit about this house in a way that didn’t make sense to me. Because truthfully, I could have had this house and everything it was meant to be.
At the front door I paused. I looked at my beer and put it up on a shelf next to it. I grabbed the key to my motorcycle and walked out of the door. It was dark and cool. Leaves rustling with a hint of a breeze. The kind of night that would probably scare kids, but it took a lot more than that to scare me as a kid. Because I had seen true horror. I had lived in this kind of darkness as a way to survive a version of hell that nobody quite understood. Which was fine. It wasn’t anyone’s job to understand it.
Just my own.
I opened the garage and started my motorcycle.
She roared to life, the only beast I could fully contain and control.
I took off down the street, not knowing where I was going.
Which was the exact point.
3
Bad and Badder
Jordyn
I finally got that dream breakfast. And it was totally worth the wait.
I checked in with Keith, nervous about our confrontation when he picked up Sam. It shouldn’t have gotten explosive, and the last thing I needed was for him to let his demons remind him of how amazing temptation and the rewards from it were. The rewards were fake, because on the other side of temptation was a nasty road that always led to everyone being hurt.
Keith had this thing where he would answer me when he felt like it. Just to mess with me. Of course, I wanted him to respond right away, but he would look at his phone and then wait an hour or so before responding with one word or one quick sentence.
“I’m thinking of getting a drink or two tonight,” Norah said, her words making me look up from my phone.
“What? Sorry. I was checking on Sam.”
“Tonight. A drink. Care to join?”
“I can’t. I have work.”
“Really? It’s your weekend off.”
“Off of what?” I asked.
“Parenting.”
“There’s no weekend off from parenting, Norah. That’s not how it works.”
“For you it is. You found a loophole.”
“A loophole? My son is with his father. Confused. Never seeing his parents together. How is that a loophole?”
“Yeah, for Sam it sucks, but it could be… I don’t know, maybe worse? Look at my parents. They forced themselves to stay together, and they hated each other. All I remember is them fighting. I honestly wish they would have split up sooner. To think they waited until me and my brother were twenty to finally divorce? It pissed us off. But I feel bad for my parents. They could have been apart, finding happiness a long time ago.”
“That actually makes some kind of sense,” I said.
“And I’m joking about the loophole thing. But in reality, it’s sort of true. I mean, Sam is fine. Keith isn’t the greatest father in the world, but for six days of the month, he’s there for Sam.”
“Six days a month,” I said. “How is that a relationship?”
Norah shrugged her shoulders. “Look, I’m trying to figure out where I lost an earring. What guy to text about it without starting a problem. You’re on a whole different playing field than me.”
“Great,” I said. “Just what I need. To feel more alone.”
“You’re not alone. I just don’t want to offend you.”
“Try me,” I said.
“Okay. The loophole comment? You get a chance every two weekends to just be free. You don’t have to worry about a thing. That means you can go out and have some fun. Try new things. Find new adventures. Meet people.”
“But only for forty-eight hours,” I said. “I’m like some cheesy romantic comedy then, right? Which means I can either just not talk about myself or come right out and make it known… you’re on the clock, buddy. You’ve got until Sunday at four in the afternoon to make your move.”
“I’m sure there are guys who would love to make that move,” Norah said with a smile. “An in and out thing… literally…”
I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for the advice.”
“Wait a second,” she said. “How long has it been? Since you’ve had a boyfriend? A fling? Anything like that?”
I didn’t respond because Norah knew the answer to that. It wasn’t like I was hiding some secret life from her or anyone.
“I have to work tonight,” I said. “There’s a catering job and I can’t back out now. Alison put me on the schedule. I need the money. I’m still paying for Sam’s pre-k.”
“He’s not in kindergarten yet?”
“He missed the cut-off by one week.”
“Should have had that wild pregnancy sex that makes you go into labor sooner,” Norah said.
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Or maybe stayed away from the bad boy in high school all together.”
“That was impossible for me,” I said, my cheeks flushing a little.
“The squeaky-clean dorky girl… destroyed by the bad boy rebel.”
“I wasn’t destroyed.”
“You went from wearing glasses and nice clothes to contacts, messy hair, wearing band and motorcycle shirts, showing off your boobs, smoking, and ditching school.”
I laughed. “Call it… a growth spurt?”
“Oh, you grew alright,” Norah said. “Everyone looked the same. But here was Jordyn, all of a sudden with this amazing chest. I wondered how hard Keith used to feel you up. Like his hands were the tit whisperer…”
I laughed so hard I had to cover my mouth.
“I’m serious,” she said. “We used to think about having Keith feel us up and see if our boobs got bigger.”
“Stop it,” I said. “It’s not funny now. And for the record, I always did good in school. Good enough at least. I only smoked because I wanted to try it. And I like music, so I wore band shirts. Oh well.”
“Yeah, that’s all it was,” Norah said. “First comes love… then comes… smoking… and then comes a baby named Sam…”
“Hey, that’s not fair,” I said. “Sam is the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“I won’t argue that,” she said.
We finished, and Norah insisted on paying.
I went home to my empty house. I had a few hours to kill before needing to get ready for work. Dress up in black pants, a white shirt, pull my hair back, and go run around like a fool at a wedding or a business event. Sometimes it was fun, if it was the right crowd of people. Other times it was terrible. But it was work. It was money. It let me pay the bills and have a little left over to spoil Sam.
My phone rang a short while later.
It was Alison calling to let me know she didn’t need m
e for work.
I sat there, shutting my eyes, sighing.
She had handed the schedule off to Marie who accidentally overstaffed the event. And based on who was full-time and part-time, it was only logical that I would be one of two told they weren’t needed.
In other words, I was screwed.
I was out of a job and out of some much-needed money.
I was out of anything to do for the night.
That’s when I thought about what Norah had said. I didn’t like the idea of me being a single mother as a loophole. In a better world, having two parents at home, together, in love, was better for a child. But that wasn’t reality and I couldn’t force things like Norah said her parents did.
It also meant I had nothing to do for the night.
And Sam was with Keith.
I bit my lip, almost mad at myself for even debating what I needed to do.
I needed a night out. Tonight.
There really wasn’t any place considered classy in town, just a few normal hangout spots. One place you had to have a membership for. Complete with a back door entrance, you’d walk down into the basement of the building where the bar was located. It was a little strange, and the only reason I knew about it was because I went on a date with someone there once. He ended up running into some old baseball buddies from high school and that was all but the end of my night. Watching him drink dollar drafts and talk about playing some championship as though that was going to impress me.
At least tonight I was at a place of my choosing.
Shammy’s was the perfect kind of corner bar. A total cliché; with lots of neon lights in the window, tall black canisters out front for people to smoke/ A heavy wooden door, that when opened even a crack, let out the sound of people talking and the background drop of music.
Two people were smoking out front. The smell hit my nose and I sighed, feeling tempted for the first time in a long time. The second I found out I was pregnant with Sam, I threw away my cigarettes and never touched them again.
Once inside, we could either go left or right. To the left was a small dining room, with about ten tables that each sat four people. The walls were this weird looking wood paneling and the decor was all western and desert. Which was strange because the bar itself was run by a local guy named George who was one hundred percent Irish. To the right was the bar itself. Bigger than the dining room and not a hint of a desert theme at all.
The bar was dimly lit, the brightest lights were behind the bar, reflecting off a stack of green glasses that made it muted. The bartender - Wendy - I knew from a lifetime ago. She had a short-sleeved, black t-shirt on with the bar’s name across her ample chest. Her left arm was full of tattoos, from her wrist all the way to where her arm was swallowed up by the sleeve of her shirt.
“Jordyn?” Wendy asked when she saw me.
I helped myself to an empty seat and gave a smile and a wave. “Wendy. How are you?”
“Busy,” she said. “Need a job?”
“Actually, I do,” I said.
“Not tonight,” Norah said. “Tonight is job free, money free, kid free living.”
Wendy snorted. “The single one over here.”
“Don’t hate on me,” Norah said. “I know how to keep my legs shut.”
“Oh please,” I said. “Out of the three of us, we all know who’s had their legs open the most.”
“I just know how to take care of myself,” Norah said.
“Prayers and antibiotics,” Wendy said.
I burst into laughter.
“There goes your tip,” Norah said.
“Like you were going to leave one anyway,” Wendy said.
We ordered drinks and Wendy gave us menus. Norah ordered some fancy sounding thing. Me? A cold beer was just fine. I didn’t have time to figure out what combinations of this, that, and the other tasted good or not.
It took Norah all of five minutes to see someone she knew and bolt on me. I figured it would happen at some point anyway.
Wendy wandered up and down the bar, talking to everyone, and I sort of just took it all in. So many people that I sort of knew, and many I didn’t know at all. I checked my phone every minute, tempted to text Keith and check on Sam. I wondered if he had Sam out and he was with Marcy. Or if they were just hanging out at Keith’s place. Sam was probably sitting too close to the TV. Probably eating junk food. He’d probably get a crappy night of sleep and then come home with an attitude because he was exhausted.
I opened and closed the message screen a handful of times.
I felt someone next to me and turned my head, ready to ask Norah if she was done with her meet and greet of everyone at the bar.
Except it wasn’t Norah at all.
Not even close.
It was a familiar guy. His elbows, resting on the bar, were connected to massive forearms that cascaded into even bigger biceps. The sleeves of his shirt were stretched to the max. Tattoos everywhere, so many that I couldn’t stop looking for a few seconds. Slowly, my eyes lifted, and I saw the side of his face. Scruff that was in desperate need of a shave or an attempt at getting cleaned up. Messy dark hair. A rattlesnake look in his eyes as he stared forward.
I knew him, but I couldn’t remember his name.
“Wendy, how about a beer?” he said, his voice shaking the bar, the floor, my seat.
Wendy turned. “Oh, am I not quick enough for you?”
“I’ve been chasing you around here for a drink.”
“You’ve been chasing me for a lot more than that, Rams,” Wendy said as she knocked the top off a bottle of beer with expert speed that totally looked cool.
Rams… as in Ramsey…
I sucked in a breath, remembering Ramsey.
He and Keith hated each other back in the day. Keith was the bad boy who broke all the rules, while Ramsey was the crazy one who was so far ahead of the rules and everyone else that nobody bothered to mess with him at all.
Ramsey finally looked at me. He nodded his head.
I smiled and nodded back.
“Don’t worry, I’m not stealing your friend’s seat,” he said. “Just needed a refill.”
He showed me the bottle of beer. His hands looked big enough to wrap around the bottle four times.
“I wasn’t worried about it,” I said. “You’d have to deal with Norah though. She’s not against a bar fight.”
“Neither am I,” Ramsey said and winked.
And just like that, he walked away.
I opened my mouth and had nothing.
He lumbered away, and my eyes may or may not have followed the flannel pattern of his shirt all the way down to his ass in his jeans.
Then he was gone.
And I sat alone.
Happy Saturday night, Jordyn.
4
Is it Broken?
Ramsey
I walked up to the table and put my beer bottle down, but didn’t let it go. I was already itching the get the hell out of the bar. This scene wasn’t for me. It was nothing but trouble brewing, festering in the air with each person that walked too close to me or gave me a weird look. The problem with living in a small town was that sometimes the shit you smelled wasn’t always yours, but you never knew where it was coming from.
“Are we talking about that new project or not?” I asked.
“Fuck that,” Chris said. “That’s up to your uncle, man.”
“Great,” I said. “I’ll have to hear about it.”
“Hey, at least you’ll get a good meal out of it,” Ed said. “We need a dinner at your aunt and uncle’s place.”
“Aw, you miss the family life?” Chris asked. “How sweet. You pussy.”
“Eat shit, Chris,” Ed growled.
Matt sat at the back of the table, picking at the label on his beer.
I whistled and gave a wave to him. “You here or what?”
“Not really,” Matt said. “Sorry, guys.”
“Oh, Jesus,” Chris said. “The saga fucking continues.”
“You know, you’re a real asshole sometimes,” Matt said. “Mary went to stay with her mother for a little while.”
“Oh, shit,” Ed said. “I’m sorry.”
“What happened?” I asked.
“You know what happened,” Chris said. “They fucking don’t belong together. That’s what happened, and nobody will pull the fucking plug on it.”
“Hey,” I snapped at Chris. “You need to calm the fuck down, man.”
“The three of you can fucking hang out then,” Chris said. “I’m not going to stand around here and waste my time with this same shit of a story.”
“He’s right,” Matt said. “It’s the same bullshit all the time now. It’s for the best. See what happens from here.”
“Fuck it then,” Ed said.
“No,” Chris said. He looked at me. “You were just standing over there getting a drink and some woman was about to bite into your arm for your attention. You didn’t notice. What the fuck is with that?”
“I’m supposed to give a shit every time a person looks at me?” I asked.
“No, but she keeps trying to find you,” Chris said. “Christ, I thought we were coming out for a few drinks and some fun. You want to talk about work.” He looked at Matt. “You want to talk about your fucking marriage.”
“Well, looks like the ship sailed,” Ed said.
“What ship?” I asked.
“Your girl over there. Someone’s talking to her.”
I stupidly looked back as though I gave a damn, acting as though I hadn’t already seen what they were pointing out.
Through the sea of heads at the bar, I saw the woman I had been standing next to for less than a minute. I didn’t do it as a pick up move or some cheap thing like that. I wanted a fucking drink and Wendy was preoccupied with talking to everyone. And yeah, I felt her staring at me. And yeah, I probably knew her at some point in my life. My reputation had its own life in this town and a lot of people made the mistake of thinking they knew me when they didn’t.
She was sitting with someone standing, talking to her. She looked over her shoulder with one eyebrow raised. If my opinion counted, it looked like she didn’t want to be bothered. That, at least, I could respect. So, I kept watching for a few seconds. The guy reaching for the bar, sliding his hand to her drink. Lifting it up and gently shaking it. Checking to see how much she had left so he could buy her another beer.
Every Other Weekend Page 3