“Does she cook like this every morning?” Bernie asked in awe, probably forgetting it was closer to noon.
“Nah. Most of the time I’m up and out of here before Teeg’s awake.” Gemma winked at me.
“So, only when shit hits the fan,” Bernie stated rhetorically. Not expecting an answer, she refilled her coffee cup.
“Let’s hope this doesn’t become a tradition. Making breakfast after bailing a friend out of jail.” I flipped the bacon with tongs, initiating more spluttering, and a bit of oil landed on my bare forearm, causing me to jump. I wiped it on my shorts. Over the rim of my coffee, I asked Bernie, “Got any ideas for how to help Jenny?”
Bernie set her mug down on the counter next to Gem. “I wish I did. And, I’m not sure she really wants my help.”
“Why are you here then?” I asked.
Gemma’s eyes widened, and she smothered a wry smile with her palm.
“You’re always real, aren’t you?” Bernie laughed, although it didn’t reach her eyes. “Jenny and I are having problems, but that doesn’t mean I stopped caring about her.”
“Do you think you two can repair the damage?” Gemma asked.
The sad shake of Bernie’s head made it clear the relationship was over.
“Okay. That’s good to know.” Gemma stared at her bare feet dangling in the air.
I adored Gemma’s way of thinking. Gather the facts first. Then formulate a plan. What would she be like after graduation? The thought was amusing, albeit slightly intimidating.
“What happened between you two?” I foolishly pressed.
“Uh, it’s complicated. Jenny isn’t the same as when I met her. She loved to party then, but now, it’s different. Once she gets one sip of beer, she can’t stop.” Bernie’s face paled with concern.
“And her drug use?” I opened the waffle iron and scooped the second golden brown one into the oven.
“Everyone smokes pot. It’s the amount she smokes. Jenny has an addictive personality. That’s the issue.”
Even I had partaken once in a while, so I wasn’t in a place to argue. Did that make me a hypocrite about Cuddy? I hadn’t ever purchased pot, but when offered, I’d indulged, creating a demand. I stifled a smile, proud to use Gemma terminology.
Gemma hopped down from the counter to put the kettle back on for another cup.
The only sounds in the kitchen were the sizzling bacon and water heating on the stove.
The last waffle was done, and I scooped the bacon onto a platter. “Shall we eat at the table?”
“I’ll get a desk chair.” Gemma strode to the spare bedroom.
“What can I do to help?” Bernie asked, not in her usual take over way.
“Can you bring the butter and syrup?” I pointed to the cabinet that housed the Aunt Jemima’s, knowing Bernie was smart enough to locate the butter on her own. I returned to the kitchen, passing Bernie on the way out and giving her a wide berth. I rifled in a drawer for spotless silverware for three and selected three of the nice napkins.
Gemma gathered the remaining supplies, setting them on the table. She sat in the desk chair, leaving the more comfortable ones for me and our guest. Last night she wanted to punch Bernie’s lights out, and today, she ensured Bernie had a cozy seat. It was like I could see the battle waging between her logical and emotional sides.
The three of us prepped our waffles in silence. I noticed Bernie didn’t smear any butter on hers, only syrup. No milk, sugar, or butter. Sure, it meant fewer calories, but at what cost? If I had to hit the gym every day, it was worth it to still live life.
“Do you think Jenny can reteach herself how to drink beer?” I posed the question to both of them.
“What do you mean?” Gemma forked a bite of waffle.
“How to have one beer and then stop.” I chomped into an extra crispy strip of bacon.
“No. I don’t think so.” Bernie clutched a fork in her right hand, swallowing a bite. “This is good. Thank you.”
I tipped my coffee cup in her direction and then got back on track. “Meaning she has to quit drinking forever?”
“More than likely.”
I leaned back in my chair. “Man, I can’t process that. Maybe we should cancel this week’s G&T party.”
Gemma sighed. “Maybe.” She got up from the table. “Anyone need their coffee topped off?”
I raised my hand. Bernie nodded.
During Gem’s short absence, Bernie eyed me with uncomfortable curiosity, but she never broached whatever was running through her mind.
Jesus, I hoped she wasn’t trying to dig deep for the courage to tell me she loved me. We were drowning in enough drama. I chastised myself for thinking this considering what must be going through Bernie’s mind.
Gemma filled Bernie’s cup and then mine, setting the milk next to me. A sugar bowl was already in the middle of the table.
“Thanks, sweetheart.” I annunciated the term of endearment to chase Bernie away.
Gemma set the pot on a pad on the coffee table, retaking her seat. She sipped her tea, letting out a contented sigh.
“Do you ever drink coffee?” Bernie asked.
“Nope.” Gem raised her cup of Earl Grey, holding it to her lips. After a careful sip, she finally asked, “Want me to make you a cup? You may never go back to that.” She pointed to Bernie’s coffee.
“After we eat,” Bernie said.
Good Lord, how long was she planning to stay? “Do you have any classes today?”
“Yes, but I’m not in the right frame of mind to go.” Bernie’s eyes landed on her half-eaten waffle. “I just don’t know what to do. Go to her? Stay with her until she gets help?” She cleared her throat. “That’s assuming she’ll ever get help.”
“Should we have an intervention?” Gemma asked in all seriousness.
“Not sure that will help. Jenny is the most stubborn person I know. And, when she feels threatened, she retreats quickly.”
I laughed. “You should have seen her trying to get past the open door without being noticed. Hunching down to make herself smaller.”
Gemma joined in the laughter, draining some of the tension from the room.
“I’m surprised she didn’t resort to a belly crawl or jump over the railing.” Bernie smiled.
I shoved my plate to the side to rest my chin on my elbow. “Okay, we really need to come up with a plan. All of us can’t keep skipping classes whenever Jenny gets into trouble.”
“True. It’s only a matter of time before her next dustup.” Gemma nabbed the final piece of bacon after questioning with her eyes if anyone else wanted it.
“Let’s hope she doesn’t get arrested again. My bank account can’t take too many more hits.”
“I’ll reimburse you for bail.” Bernie turned around in her chair to get her purse on the table next to the couch.
“Don’t worry about it.”
“No, seriously. Let me pay for it. I feel bad enough about last night. I don’t want to put you in financial distress because of my…” She didn’t finish, with the pretense of searching for her wallet. “How much?”
Was she going to say because of her feelings for me? Was I a horrible person to want to hear it from her? Maybe I was addicted to ego boosts. Or was that called narcissism?
Gemma supplied the amount, probably knowing I wouldn’t cough up the number. And, quite possibly this was some weird type of revenge for kissing me. How long until Gemma lost it? Not that I was cheering for that. True, Bernie had made my life hell for many months, but did that warrant Gem pounding the shit out of her? Tegan, get out of your head.
I looked up from the surface of the table, taking in a check in Bernie’s outstretched hand and Gemma’s confusion. “Sorry. Got a little lost.” I tapped my forehead. “Too much drama and not enough sleep.” I took the check, glimpsing her tiny and perfect script. Uptight much?
“Please, Tegan. Promise you’ll cash it.”
&nb
sp; Briefly, I studied her eyes. “I promise.”
Gemma rose, taking her plate and Bernie’s to the kitchen. Did she need a moment alone?
I stood, but Bernie waved for me to sit. “The chef never helps with cleanup.” She took my plate and other items to the kitchen.
From the sounds coming from the kitchen, the two of them were doing the dishes and a quick cleanup. I refilled my coffee, adding less milk than usual and skipping the sugar, considering I’d consumed three cups since waking.
Bernie and Gemma appeared with steaming mugs.
“Tea?” I asked.
“Would you like a cup?” Gem asked.
“Later. Just poured another cup of java.”
“You’re going to be bouncing off the walls soon.” Gemma turned the desk chair so she could see Bernie, now planted on the couch, while I still sat at the table. I prayed she wouldn’t take root. Life with Bernie’s constant presence seemed way too challenging. Even more so now.
“Do you think Jenny’s teammates will help her?” Gemma cradled her cup in both hands, holding it below her mouth and blowing on it.
Bernie stared above Gemma’s head at the movie posters I got for free from the theater. “I would like to say yes, but I don’t think they really get it. All of them drink a lot, especially when together. Not sure they see that Jenny can’t stop. I can’t even count all the times she’s passed out drunk on the couch. I used to try to get her into bed. I’m not butch enough to carry her, and waking her, most nights is impossible.”
“Was it really that bad?” I whispered the question.
She nodded.
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
“I thought it would be an act of betrayal. Everyone has secrets. And when you live with someone, you’re the only one who knows what really goes on behind closed doors.”
What did Gemma and I have to hide? Besides our sexual acts? I’m sure there was loads, but my brain was zapped of thoughts at the moment.
“Cuddy promised not to sell any weed to her.” Gemma sipped her drink, bringing some pink to her cheeks.
“He’s not the only source, unfortunately.” Bernie sampled her tea, letting out a satisfied moan. “You may be right about not wanting anything else. How do you resist her tea?” Her eyes landed on me.
“I’ve sampled many. Before Gem, I never thought it satisfactory.”
Bernie quietly laughed, more to herself. “First lesbian relationship. Introduction to tea. She’s the great corrupter.”
“I prefer the word guide.” I added, “To what’s important in life.”
Bernie looked like she was going to supply one of her snappy comebacks, but she took another sip instead.
Mission accomplished!
The phone on the kitchen wall rang. Although it was out of sight, except to Bernie, all three of us looked in the direction of the intrusion.
Not able to resist, Gemma went to answer it. “Hello?”
Bernie turned to me, offering a smile I couldn’t decipher. Supportive or a confession of I love you. Can’t you see that?
Pretending I didn’t notice her, I strained to make out Gemma’s words.
Bernie, unable to accept I was purposefully ignoring her, whispered, “I think it’s Jenny.”
“Good or bad?”
Bernie shrugged, cupping her ear for better eavesdropping abilities.
Gemma hung up and returned with heavy shoulders. “Jenny says thanks for last night.”
“Why the long face?” I asked.
“She’s drunk. Her teammates are throwing her a You busted out of jail party. You were spot-on,” Gemma said to Bernie. “None of them get it.”
Bernie gulped her tea, set the empty cup down, and stood. “I think I’ll go over there.”
Gemma shook her head. “I don’t think that will help the situation. She’s slurring her words.”
“Was Cuddy there?” I asked.
Gemma rubbed the crease in her forehead. “I didn’t ask. Nor did I hear his voice.”
“I hate waiting.” Bernie paced from the front door to where I sat. “This feeling”—she ground her fist into her stomach—“of something bad happening, keeps growing. It’s my fault.”
Gemma put a finger in the air. “No, it’s not. You are not to blame for Jenny’s behavior. She is the only one in control—”
“She’s not in control!” Bernie snapped, chagrin quickly settling in. “I’m sorry, Gem. I’m not mad at you.”
“If it helps, feel free to scream.”
I wondered if Gemma needed to.
Gem continued, “I hate seeing Jenny like this. I imagine it’s even worse for you.”
Bernie collapsed onto the couch, holding the pillow to her chest. “I’m usually the one people come to for answers. This not knowing how to handle things—I hate it. I have zero experience with this. Has anyone ever conducted an intervention?” Her shoulders shook, and she smothered her face with the pillow.
I raised an eyebrow to Gemma, mouthing, Is she crying?
Gemma nodded.
We exchanged helpless shrugs, unable to determine if we should comfort her.
Finally, unable to resist, I got up and took her in my arms. Bernie buried her head in my chest, and part of me wondered if she was taking advantage of the situation. One peek at Gem confirmed the same thought had crossed her mind. Bernie wrapped an arm around me, letting the waterworks go to near flood levels.
“There, there,” I said, feeling as useless as a condom riddled with holes. “We’ll figure this out.” The problem wasn’t us. We had already put our finger on the problem. Jenny was the one who couldn’t see the writing on the wall. What would it take for her to come to terms with her reality? Booze, pot, and Jenny didn’t mix.
I eyed Gemma to make sure she wasn’t plotting Bernie’s death. Not in our apartment. The trunk scene from Goodfellas played in my mind. When they realized the person wasn’t quite dead. Or, better yet, what about the scene when Henry pistol-whipped a dude after the guy sexually harassed Karen? God, I was horrible to think that.
Our phone rang again, causing Bernie to tighten her grip on me.
Gemma answered, quickly disengaging.
I arched my brows when she came back, but Gem shook her head, letting me know the caller was of no importance.
Oh, Jenny.
Please don’t be a complete idiot and get into a situation that’ll completely ruin your life.
“I think the only thing any of us can do is be there for Jenny, no matter what,” Gemma said.
“Does anyone else feel like dog poo on the sidewalk that keeps getting stepped on?” I asked.
Gemma’s and Bernie’s expressions displayed shock and distaste for the image, but neither refuted the feeling.
Chapter Two
After Bernie left, Gemma opted to go for a run, something she liked to do when too many thoughts raced through her mind.
At the first hint of stress, I headed straight for dreamland.
Unfortunately, dreamland came to an abrupt end when the piercing ring of the phone on the nightstand jerked me awake. “Seriously?” I said, shaking a fist at the hunk of annoying plastic.
Taking a cleansing breath, I answered, “Hello?”
“Tegan?” my mom asked.
Did she really have to clarify? The woman gave birth to me. Wasn’t she supposed to feel some kind of mothering connection with me at all times? Or was that twins? At the very least, she should be able to recognize my voice.
“Yep. What’s up?”
“Why does your voice sound funny?”
“Does it?”
“Yes? Like you’re talking under water.”
How apt, considering I felt like I was drowning. “Must be the connection. Everything okay?”
“Of course. Does something have to be wrong for me to call?” Her snappy tone was clear that something indeed was wrong.
I laughed. “We won’t get anywher
e if both of us keep tossing out questions.”
She actually laughed. “How about we start over?”
“Was that a question or statement?” I joked.
Mom’s nasally sigh ricocheted out of the phone. “I’d like us to get together for some mother and daughter time.”
“Okay. Sounds good.” Not really, but could I say that to her without feeling like the shittiest daughter in America? Or the planet?
“Are you free for dinner tonight?”
“Tonight?” I screeched.
“It’s Tuesday. Don’t tell me suitors are banging down your door every night.” She chuckled, and it came across like she was forcing it to sound easygoing.
“Things have been crazy lately.”
Her mom alarm bell must have gone off. “What’s wrong?” She sounded genuinely concerned.
Not wanting to go into the Jenny and Bernie situations, I deferred. “Just school, but I think I can make tonight work as long as you come here.”
“Of course. You didn’t think I was going to demand you drive all the way down here on short notice.”
I did, and my silence might have reinforced it.
She breathed into the phone. “Will Gemma be able to join us?”
What the fuck? I yanked the phone away from my ear, staring at it as if it were a foreign object. Or maybe I was still asleep and this was my innermost thought: Mom accepting Gemma as my girlfriend. I placed the phone back to my ear.
“Tegan? Are you still there?”
“Yep. Sorry, I thought someone knocked on the door. I think you asked if Gem could join us tonight.”
“That’s correct. If she can’t—”
“I’ll ask,” I interrupted. “What time should I—we—expect you?”
“Let’s meet at Applebee’s at six. Will that work?”
Mom hated Applebee’s, and I was certain she wasn’t Gemma’s biggest fan. Schizo, much? Alfrid, though, didn’t have too many dining choices, so I can see why Mom had conceded on that front. “Sounds good to me. Can’t wait for a real meal.”
“Does that mean the cooking classes aren’t working?”
Girl Love Happens Boxed Set: Books 0-2 Page 49