Life in High Def

by Kimberly Cooper Griffin

  “How’s it going, Reilly? Cray? Long time, no see.”

  “Hey, Torrance,” said Reilly, surprised to see him at the party. He knew everyone, but due to the nature of his lucrative side job, he wasn’t usually a guest at the parties he supplied. Reilly was surprised that he hadn’t gone to jail by now.

  “Sorry, I’m not sure we’ve met,” said Cray offering his hand, seeming to take Reilly’s greeting as a sign that Torrance was a friend. Reilly wanted to correct him, but the old anticipatory tingle in her gums took Reilly by surprise. A feeling of panic followed in its wake. She wanted to be anywhere but where she was standing in that moment.

  “I have to use the ladies room. Excuse me,” said Reilly. She headed for the women’s bathroom.

  She made a line through the crowd, turned the corner toward the restrooms and, by virtue of a miracle, the large, single occupancy women’s restroom was empty. She hurried in and shut the door behind her. Across from the door was an ornate sink with a large mirror. She leaned with her back against the door and locked eyes with her reflection. She looked good. Aside from the scowl on her face, there was no sign of the feeling of terror that had seized her when the unwanted body memories of her past had inundated her. She took a deep breath and, feeling better, she smiled. It had been a visceral memory brought on by familiar people and surroundings, she reminded herself. That was all. She was fine. She moved toward the sink to wash her hands.

  The door behind her opened and, in the reflection of the mirror, she saw Torrance enter behind her.

  “What are you doing? Get out of here!” she ordered, spinning to face him.

  “Relax, Reilly. No one saw me come in.”

  “I don’t care about that. What the hell are you doing in here?”

  “I came to deliver,” he said pulling a baggie from an inside pocket of his jacket.

  The baggie was about a quarter full of white powder, and this time, Reilly had no physical reaction other than anger over Torrance’s invasion of her privacy.

  “I’m not interested.”

  “Hey, I’ll give it to you for the old price. You were a good customer. I still provide for Sylvie.”

  “I’m not interested,” repeated Reilly, feeling an odd serenity. She really wasn’t interested, and knowing that made her feel strong and in control.

  “Okay. Okay. Tell you what. I’ll give you a little, just in case you change your mind,” he said, folding the baggie so that most of the powder fell to one side, but a small amount the size of a thimble remained in the bottom corner of the other half. He twisted it until the corner broke free, placed it on the vanity counter, and then tied a knot in the larger bag. He slid the bag into his jacket pocket and gave her a half-smile. “That’s on the house. Call me when you need some more, okay?”

  Reilly watched him leave the bathroom and shook her head. She walked over to the counter and picked up the conical little packet of cocaine. She held it up between her forefinger and thumb. Not even a tingle. She felt nothing. She reached for the faucet.

  The door behind her flew open and hit the wall with an echoing thud.

  “Reilly?” asked Drew, as she strode into the bathroom.

  The noise startled Reilly and the packet of powder fell from her fingers. She tried to catch it, but only succeeded in hitting it so the powder scattered and flew across the vanity. A fine dust filled the air in front of her. In the mirror, she saw Drew’s startled face behind her.

  “Oh,” said Drew.

  “You scared the shit out of me,” said Reilly, grabbing some paper towels and wetting them to wipe down the counter. She watched Drew in the mirror and the noise from the bar was muted once again as the door clicked shut.

  “I was standing at the door, and I saw that guy follow you in here, and the doorman took so long to find my name on the list…”

  Drew stood just inside the door and Reilly watched her eyes wander over the dust-strewn vanity as she talked. Reilly turned to face her.

  “He’s just a presumptive asshole,” said Reilly, searching Drew’s face in an effort to determine what she was thinking.

  “Who is he, Reilly?”

  “He used to be my connection,” answered Reilly, truthfully. It didn’t even occur to her to lie or minimize it.

  “Connection?”

  “You know, for drugs. Coke, mostly.” Reilly saw Drew trying to process the information.

  “Oh.”

  “He isn’t anymore.” Reilly threw the damp paper towels on the counter behind her.

  “Oh.” Drew’s eyes roamed the vanity again.

  “Drew. I said he isn’t anymore. I swear it.”

  “You don’t need to explain to me, Reilly. It isn’t my business.”

  Drew didn’t believe her. Reilly felt panic expand within her chest. She needed Drew to believe her.

  “Drew. I didn’t ask him to give it to me. I didn’t use any of it,” she said, leaning back against the counter, grasping the edge. “He gave me that little bit to try to get my business back. I didn’t want it. I don’t want it.”

  “Reilly, seriously, you don’t have to—”

  “I know I don’t have to do anything, Drew,” said Reilly, but the panic surged in her gut. “It’s important to me that you believe me. I was just about to wash it down the sink.”

  “Reilly, I don’t—”

  “Let’s go.”

  “Okay, but—”

  “I’ll prove it to you,” said Reilly.

  “Reilly. You don’t have to prove anything to me.”

  But Reilly took Drew’s hand and led her from the bathroom and out of the bar, so intent on her mission, that she took no notice of the dense crowd that she had to push through. A line of taxis stood on the other side of the winding, hillside street, and she got into the first one they reached. She couldn’t wait for Alison, who wasn’t expecting her to call so soon. Reilly knew that she was frightening Drew, but she had to show her that she hadn’t taken any of the drugs. Reilly’s heart beat like a drum and she gave the driver her address. Then she shot Cray a quick text telling him that she’d gone home sick.

  When the cab rolled to a stop in front of Reilly’s house, she waited for the driver to run her card, impatient. She didn’t wait for the receipt. She got out of the car and pulled Drew along with her. She keyed her gate code and led her up the long driveway, the landscaping lights casting an eerie glow over the plants and pavement. She never let go of Drew’s hand, afraid that Drew would leave her if she did. Camille let her in, surprised to see her, since she had told the housekeeper that she’d be spending the night at Drew’s when she’d left earlier. She didn’t try to explain. She took Drew upstairs to her bedroom and headed straight for her bathroom. She took a sealed drug testing kit from one of the linen cabinets in the large room, and only then did she finally let go of Drew’s hand, so she could tear it open. The test kits were an artifact from the time that she had spent between being charged with vehicular manslaughter and the time she was sentenced and sent to prison. The tests had been a condition of being released on her own recognizance. She had to buy them herself, and once a week, she had to take one with her to the testing facility, where she pissed in a cup while a female officer watched.

  When Reilly unbuttoned her pants, Drew backed toward the door.

  “No, stay. I had to do this in front of an audience so many times before, that I’m numb to it,” said Reilly.

  “Reilly—” Drew pressed against the doorframe. Reilly saw that Drew was uncomfortable, and probably a little scared, but Reilly couldn’t let her leave.

  “No, stay. Please.”

  Reilly started to squat, and then she remembered that the cocaine had spilled all over the place when she had hit the little packet with her hand. She didn’t want it to contaminate the sample.

  “Fuck, I have to wash my hands first,” she said, throwing the cup on the floor, pulling up her pants, and moving toward the sink. She caught a glimpse of her reflection. A streak of white was smeared
across her forehead.

  “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” she said grabbing the towel beside the sink and wetting it from the spigot. She leaned toward the mirror and wiped her forehead until it was pink. “Fuck.”

  “Reilly—”

  “Fuck.” Reilly knew everything that she was doing was odd, but she couldn’t control it. What if the coke had seeped in through her skin? What if she had breathed it in when the powder was floating in the air after she spilled it in the bathroom? She thought that she could taste the chalky tang. Her heartbeat hammered in her chest. Was it the drugs?

  “Reilly,” said Drew, taking a step forward. She stood behind Reilly and put her hands on Reilly’s shoulders. Reilly watched her in the mirror, watched the silver eyes find hers. They held her stare, open and understanding. “Reilly, you don’t have to do this.”

  “I do, Drew. I do.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I need you to believe me.”

  “Reilly, I—”

  “No. Wait.” said Reilly, taking another test kit from the cupboard.

  She ripped it open, sat it on the counter beside the toilet, and took her pants down. She filled the sample cup, placed it on the counter, and then adjusted her pants. She sealed the test and tipped it into the stand. She was an old pro at the piss test.

  She washed her hands again and held her breath as she waited for the results to show.

  “It takes about five minutes,” she said to Drew. “If it turns color, it’s negative. If it doesn’t, it’s positive.

  Drew turned Reilly away from her sentry duty, staring at the test, and forced Reilly to meet her eyes.

  “Reilly, baby. I don’t care,” Drew said, shaking her head. “I know who you are. I know you aren’t the irresponsible woman that you seem to be afraid that I think you are. I know that you didn’t take any drugs tonight.”

  “How do you know that? You just walked in on me with cocaine smeared all over my face and spread all over the counter.”

  “I saw it fall and spill. You got some on your fingers when you were cleaning it up. I saw you smear it on your face when you were talking to me in the bathroom.”

  “How do you know that I hadn’t just taken some? How do you know that I wasn’t just about to take some more?”

  “Because I know you. I can see it in your eyes. I can feel it in my heart,” said Drew, holding both of Reilly’s hands in hers. She pressed them to her chest. “And if you had taken any, or had planned on taking any, I know that you would tell me. “

  Reilly’s heart stopped pounding so hard, and the spinning, out of control feeling that had taken hold of her eased. All of the energy drained from her at once. She dropped her arms. Her legs felt like a rag doll’s. She was so tired. She rested her head on Drew’s chest, unable to lift her arms to reach around Drew’s waist. Drew held on to her instead. Reilly timed her breathing with Drew’s and inhaled her familiar smell. The fog in her head started to drift away.

  “Reilly?”

  “Hmm?”

  “If they turn color it’s negative, right?”

  “Yes,” said Reilly lifting her head to see the test. All of the test strips had color on them. She had known they would. Sweet relief filled her just the same. She sank to the bathroom floor and held her head. “Thank god.”

  “You were worried that some might have been absorbed through your skin, weren’t you?” asked Drew as she slipped down next to her and wrapped an arm around Reilly’s shoulder, pulling her close.

  Reilly nestled her forehead into the curve of Drew’s neck, and Drew ran her fingers through Reilly’s hair.

  “Yes, how did you know?”

  “You have a very pink mark on your forehead where you tried to rub your skin off, and your hands are almost scrubbed raw.”

  Reilly raised her hands and saw how pink they were. She started to cry.

  Drew tightened her hold on Reilly and held Reilly’s head against her chest.

  “Baby, what’s wrong?”

  “I’m such a fuck-up.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because I can’t get away from my past. I can’t do anything to change what I’ve done and I don’t know how I will ever learn to live with it.”

  Reilly cried in jagged sobs and she clung to Drew as if it would save her from falling. Drew rocked her.

  “Hush now. You’ve just had a rough night. That’s all. It’s one of your first real nights out since everything happened. You came face-to-face with an old demon and you won, honey. You won.”

  “I don’t deserve you, you know,” said Reilly, trying to calm her sobs.

  “What does that even mean?” asked Drew. “If you’re trying to say that you’re not good enough for me, then you’re wrong,” Drew said as she blew out a mirthful breath. “If anything, it’s the other way around.”

  “I know when I’m being placated with bullshit,” Reilly managed to laugh, and she wiped her nose.

  “Well, I do have one thing up on you,” said Drew, capturing Reilly’s eyes. “I’m better than you when it comes to bullshit detectors. Because I’m dead serious when I say that it’s me who doesn’t deserve you. And that is no bullshit, Reilly.”

  “How did I get lucky enough to find you?” asked Reilly, pressing her face back into the warmth of Drew’s neck.

  Drew was quiet for a minute, and Reilly thought she wasn’t going to answer. It was just a rhetorical question, anyway. But Drew finally cleared her throat and breathed out a long sigh.

  “That, my love, is something I don’t have an answer for. Because I’ve been thinking about that a lot myself, lately.”

  It’s Not You, It’s Me

  REILLY WOKE UP THE NEXT morning feeling disoriented. She was in her own bed—the bed that she hadn’t slept in since she and Drew first made love. And although she was alone, she knew that Drew had been next to her all night, because she remembered waking up periodically and reaching for her. The feel of Drew’s arms wrapping around her, pulling her close, was the only thing that helped her to fall back to sleep.

  It was morning now, and Drew was gone. A knot of apprehension formed in Reilly’s chest as she lay there, staring across the expanse of the empty bed. She’d been a basket case the night before. She wondered what Drew thought about that.

  Judging from the amount of sunshine filling the room, most of the morning was gone. She hadn’t slept this late since the days of inky depression that had followed the morning that she had awoken to learn she had killed a man. When, for several weeks, she had abandoned life for the nothingness of sleep. That blackness tried to enfold her, but she refused to close her eyes.

  She listened for signs of Drew’s presence. The house was big, and Reilly wouldn’t necessarily hear her, but Reilly could feel that Drew was near. She was relieved about that, but nervous about having to face Drew in the stark light of day.

  As if summoned by her thoughts, Drew walked into the room. Reilly rolled onto her back and watched Drew move toward her.

  “You’re awake. I thought that you’d sleep all day.” Drew was smiling, and she looked happy to see her. The knot in Reilly’s chest eased. “You have absolutely no food in this house. I didn’t expect you to have tea, Ms. Coffee Addict, but you don’t even have the makings for coffee. How do you live?” asked Drew. She placed a cardboard tray with two cups nestled in it on the bedside table and opened a paper bag as she plopped down on the edge of the bed. “And since you kidnapped me last night, I was forced to take a cab halfway across town to fetch us some breakfast burritos from Manny’s. I’d never been. I like that place. I did find it hilarious that they have one named the Rocking Reilly Ransome. Menu item number ten. It made it easy to order for you, though.”

  The reminder of her mad rush out of the bar the previous night and her subsequent breakdown flooded Reilly with hot shame.

  “I was expecting to stay over at your house again last night, and Camille has her own living area. She wouldn’t know to cook for me. She would have if I warne
d her. But since I didn’t—” Reilly stopped herself. She knew that she was rambling. This was Drew’s first time at her home, since she preferred the homier feel of Drew’s place, and she was ashamed at her ineptitude as a host. “Manny’s is good. I’ve gone there a few times,” said Reilly, pushing herself into a seated position against the headboard. The smell of the food made her stomach growl, but she pulled the covers up to just below her breasts. She grimaced at the reminder of her behavior the night before. God, she’d nearly pulled Drew’s arm from the socket dragging her out of the bar. Drew’s cheery demeanor was taking away some of the shame, though.

  “I know. I’ve seen the wrappers you’ve thrown away right before some of the morning yoga classes. That’s why I went there. I had to get something I knew you would eat.” Drew stopped rustling around in the paper bag. “That makes me sound creepy, doesn’t it? Examining your garbage? I swear it’s just that the wrappers are so easily identified and I take out the garbage at the studio.”

  Reilly laughed at the look on Drew’s face.

  “It’s no creepier than me studying the pictures on the walls in your studio to find out more about you.”

  “Well, now I know that you like tofu and avocado on your burritos, wrapped in whole wheat tortillas. No cheese, though? That’s a sin.”

  “Believe me, I dream about cheese. But such is the life of a person with a public image to uphold.”

  “Is that why you have no food in the house? You don’t eat?”

  “I eat. I have food,” Reilly argued, adjusting the pillow that propped her up. She didn’t want Drew to think an eating disorder was among her list of flaws. She had plenty without that.

  “Dried fruit. You have dried fruit and protein bars. I’m really going to have to help you with your diet.”

  The casual conversation made Reilly feel much better. She could almost forget about the way she had acted the night before.

  “Offer accepted,” said Reilly, taking the wrapped burrito Drew held out to her and reaching for the coffee on the bedside table. She peeked at Drew from under her lashes. “I’m sorry for stranding you. There’s a car service I use when Alison isn’t here. Did you make it in time for your class this morning?”