by London Casey
“Are you getting flustered over there, man?” I asked. “You don’t want to tell Callie about all the crazy stuff we used to do?”
“I’d like to hear it,” a voice said.
I turned my head and a well-dressed waitress stood at the table.
Her black hair was pulled back tight and she smiled at me.
“Ah… not sure about that,” I said.
“Well, I’m here all night,” she said. “Can I get you anything? Are you still waiting for someone?”
“Possibly,” Jackson said. “Want to sit and join us?”
“I’d love to,” she said. “But I have to keep working.”
“Call in sick,” I said.
“I’m already here,” she said.
“Damn,” Jackson said.
“Will you two keep it in your pants?” Callie asked.
She and the waitress laughed.
Then the waitress touched my shoulder. “I’ll come check on you in a little bit. Part of me hopes you’re still alone. Is that wrong?”
I looked at her.
“Not at all,” Jackson said.
The waitress smiled and walked away.
Jackson slapped the table. “Now that’s what you need.”
“Shut up,” I said.
“She likes you,” he said.
“She’s working for tips. Back me up, Callie.”
“I don’t know,” Callie said. “She was heavy on you.”
“Come on, Liam,” Jackson said. “Just admit it. She was flirting with you.”
“Yeah, fine, she was flirting. Whatever. Flirting isn’t a crime. It doesn’t mean anything. Just cut it out, Jackson.”
“Okay, I’m done,” he said. “Let’s enjoy our dinner. Oh, hey, Miranda, how was your day?”
He nodded and smiled at the empty seat next to me.
I clenched my jaw and reached across the table for his drink.
An expensive whiskey that was smooth going down.
I needed a lot more than just one.
I was sipping my second whiskey when Miranda arrived.
The waitress had kept the drinks flowing with ease. Which wasn’t a good thing. I couldn’t get drunk again.
I stood up as Miranda rushed to the table.
She waved her phone in her hand.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “This fucking thing wouldn’t stop.”
She dropped the phone to the table.
She looked at me.
I smiled.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey,” she said.
I hugged her and kissed her cheek.
“I need a drink,” she said.
“Then sit down and relax,” I said. “Long day?”
“You have no fucking idea, Liam,” she snapped at me.
She sat down and looked at Jackson and Callie.
“Hi.”
“Hey, Miranda,” Jackson said.
“You look like you need two drinks,” Callie said. “Or more.”
“I’m not an alcoholic,” Miranda said.
“That’s not what she meant,” I said.
“I’m just having a day,” Miranda said. “These fucking calls just kill me. This is all stuff everyone should know how to do. Yet it ends up on my desk all the time.”
“The price of fame, huh?” Jackson asked.
“Fame?” Miranda asked.
“I don’t know. It was a joke. Can’t you just take a breath and relax?”
I cringed.
“Relax…,” Miranda said. “That’s your answer to everything. The simple and easy life.”
“I don’t think my life is simple and easy,” Jackson said. “Just ask Callie.”
Callie laughed. “You’re the biggest pain in the ass I ever met.”
“As bad as me?” I asked. “Right, Miranda?”
Miranda smiled. “I’m sure it’s a close race.”
The table fell silent.
I looked around.
Jackson and I looked at each other.
“So… how’s the wedding plans coming along?” Callie asked.
“It’s moving,” I said.
“Yeah,” Miranda said. “Getting everything in line.”
“We have to answer these quizzes,” I said. “All this fun stuff about our past.”
“I’m not a fan of that part,” Miranda said. “Sorry. I don’t really care about the past so much.”
“Well, it’s to get information about us,” I said.
“You go too far,” Miranda said.
“I know I do,” I said. “It’s the romantic in me.”
“I like thinking about the past,” Callie said. “You just can’t get lost in it.”
“Thank you,” Miranda said. She pointed to Callie. “You get it.”
“Yeah,” Callie said.
“So all the stories I was going to tell tonight I can’t now,” Jackson said. “It’s all about the past.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Jackson said.
“What about the past?” I asked.
“I really don’t need to hear any fart or sex stories,” Miranda said.
“No,” Jackson said. “I was going to tell you about the waitress flirting with Liam when you weren’t here, Miranda. You should be on time more. Liam is a fine piece of man-ass to catch.”
“Is that so?” Miranda asked. “Our waitress?”
“No, it was nothing,” I said. “Jackson is being a dick. As usual.”
“A really big dick,” Callie said.
“Correction,” Jackson said. “I have a really big dick. And I was telling the truth about the waitress. What do you think, Miranda? Want to throw some punches?”
“Ah, I get it,” she said. “You want me to get into a fight? Like you had Liam do the other night? Are you ever going to grow up?”
“No,” Jackson said.
“Well, this is fun,” I said with a sigh.
I looked at Callie.
She mouthed I’m sorry.
I was used to it.
Miranda was always on edge.
Jackson liked to push her over the edge.
And I guess somewhere inside me…
I should have cared more.
The alcohol took the edge off the rest of the night.
We had dinner, dessert, and we went our own way.
I hugged Callie. I hugged Jackson and thanked him for being a raging asshole. He said he loved me.
Miranda waved and didn’t touch anyone.
That was just her style though.
She wasn’t one to give out hugs and handshakes.
Especially when it came to Jackson.
On the car ride back to our apartment she was quiet.
Which was better than hearing her complain about Jackson.
When we got back to the apartment, I poured us each a glass of wine.
She went into the bathroom to shower and I carried the wine glasses into the bedroom and put them on the nightstand.
I walked to the bathroom door and went to turn the knob and it was locked.
I knocked on the door.
“Hey,” I called out. “You locked the door.”
“I know,” she yelled back.
I tried to turn the knob again and sighed.
That meant she was pissed at me.
There were two levels of Miranda being pissed.
The first was her just saying it.
That was the easy one. I could endure that one. I could listen, understand, and work things out.
The second level was when she didn’t say it but showed it.
Like locking the bathroom door.
Shit.
I stood at the door like a dog waiting to come inside from the rain.
Miranda finished her shower, opened the door then screamed.
“What the hell, Liam?” she yelled. “You scared me.”
“I want to ask you something,” I said. “Are we okay?”
“We?”
; “Yeah. You and me. Because it’s been… I don’t know. I feel like you’re shutting me out.”
“Because I locked the bathroom door?” Miranda asked.
“Yeah.”
“Do you want to know why I locked the bathroom door?”
“Please.”
“I don’t need you to try and hump me the way Jackson does with Callie, okay? They’re new at this. They want to have their thing, good for them. I don’t need you to have a few drinks and then turn into Mr. Touchy Feely all over me. And honestly, what if I just wanted to take a quick shower and get into bed? Is that wrong? We can’t just throw on some stupid show and fall asleep?”
I nodded. “Okay. I hear that. I understand. I just miss you sometimes.”
“Liam, we talked about this. It’s busy for me. There’s an end to it all. I’m sorry we aren’t married yet too, but I really don’t care about society and their view. We can be engaged for twenty years and everyone can still kiss my ass.”
I smiled. “There she is.”
“What?”
“You. Miranda. Telling the world to kiss your ass. It’s good to see you again.”
I leaned forward and kissed her forehead.
She put her hand to my chest. “Where did Liam go then? I should be out of this towel and sitting on the bathroom sink, groaning your name.”
I slipped my hand into the towel and smiled at her.
She wiggled away. “Too late now. I shouldn’t have to tell you to do it.”
She walked to the bed and dropped the towel.
I looked at her for a few seconds and then went into the bathroom and shut the door.
I needed a cold shower.
And another round of drinks just for myself.
Chapter Eight
Emily
I opened my apartment door after another long day and felt like I could burst into tears. There was no real reason for it. It had just been that kind of day. Everything went smooth, but I felt like hell had washed over me.
I poured myself a glass of wine and celebrated another day of survival as I stood at my favorite window in the apartment and watched the day wind down, turning into night.
With just one last flicker of daylight left, I smiled and decided to go to my favorite spot.
I wore my favorite old hoodie and packed a bag with my phone and a bottle of wine.
The essentials.
As I walked down the hallway to the stairs, I thought of an idea.
I stopped at the next floor up and went to the second door on the right.
I gave a quick knock and waited.
There was no choice but to wait.
Miss Crabapple moved slow, and that was perfectly okay.
When she opened the door, she smiled big at me.
Her body frame was left skeletal after all the cancer treatments. Sadly, even after all the treatments, she was told she didn’t have much time to live.
I first met her while she was sitting on the roof.
I apologized for interrupting her alone time and she made me sit with her.
Since then, we grew closer and anytime I was headed up to the roof, I made sure to check with her.
It was scary to think that she lived alone and still ventured up to the roof, but to her, she was going to live until there was no more living to be had. And that was something I just had to respect.
“Ready?” I asked.
“I’m very busy tonight,” she said. “I have a man coming over.”
“You do?”
“Yeah. We’re going to break my bed.”
“Miss Crabapple…”
“I’m just playing,” she said. She reached for me and squeezed my arm with a weak grip. “There’s no men in my life. Not because of the cancer. I just don’t like men.”
I smiled. “You’ve mentioned that before.”
“Give me one moment,” she said. “Then I’ll join you up on the roof.”
“I can wait all night for you,” I said.
“Well, when you’re like me, each second counts, so I have to keep my boney ass hustling here,” she said.
She scurried around the apartment to make sure all her appliances were off.
I noticed little things like that about her.
She wasn’t afraid to die from the cancer. But the idea of being hurt or dying from a fire or accident did scare her.
She grabbed a jacket and draped it over her arm.
“How are you tonight?” she asked me as she shut her door.
“Perfect now,” I said.
“If I’m making your night perfect, then you have some big issues in your life,” she said.
I looked at her and smiled. “I love your honesty.”
“What do I have to lose? I’m going to die soon no matter what I do. And if you want to be pissed at me when I go, that’s on you. I’ll be in the clouds doing something much better than this.”
“Is that why you like the roof?” I asked. “Gets you closer to heaven?”
“Maybe,” she said. “Or maybe I like to get high and look at the stars.”
I laughed.
She elbowed me and winked.
It was nice to forget everything for a few minutes, you know?
I helped Miss Crabapple into one of the lawn chairs on the roof.
I noticed we weren’t alone.
“Buzzy,” I said.
Buzzy lifted her head and wrinkled her nose against her glasses. “Oh, hey.”
Buzzy was thirteen and lived on the top floor with her mother. Her real name was Beth, but she got the nickname Buzzy because of her Halloween costume when she was four.
Hint - she dressed up as a bumble bee.
“What are you working on tonight?” I asked.
“Stupid math,” she said.
“Stupid math?” I asked. “Never heard of it. I’ve heard of math. But not stupid math.”
Buzzy groaned. “That’s such an adult joke to make.”
“I know,” I said. “Sorry.”
Miss Crabapple let out a long sigh as she put her hands to the arms of the chair.
“Pull one up,” she said to me. “Let the kid finish her schoolwork. Can’t get far in life these days without being smart. Not like it was in my day.”
“You’re not that old,” I said.
“I feel two hundred years old.”
“You don’t look a day over twenty,” I said.
“You lying bitch,” Miss Crabapple whispered.
I took the wine bottle out of my bag. “Drink?”
“Of course,” she said.
Miss Crabapple took the cork out of the bottle and helped herself to a drink.
Next to me I heard Buzzy groan.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Math… letters and numbers don’t belong together.”
“Sorry,” I said. “Take a break.”
Buzzy looked at me. “I need to get this done.”
“You’ll be fine for a minute. Where’s Mom tonight?”
“Working a double,” Buzzy said.
“You okay at home by yourself?”
Buzzy nodded.
“You’re always welcome to crash at my place,” I said. “I can talk to your mother.”
“I’m good,” she said. She closed her books and dropped them to the ground. She stood and walked her chair closer. “I like being alone. I’ve been texting a boy.”
“Ooohhh,” I said.
“A boy?” Miss Crabapple asked. “What boy? Who is he?”
“Oliver,” she said. “He’s cute. Super cute.”
“Just texting?” I asked.
“Of course,” Buzzy said. “I’m not like some of the other girls.”
“Good,” I said.
“Boys are weird though,” she said.
“Wait until they turn into men,” Miss Crabapple said.
“I’m just feeling confused,” Buzzy said.
“You’re thirteen,” I said. “That’s normal. Don’t get too caught up
in it.”
“My one friend Megan says she’s in love. Her and her boyfriend tell each other they love each other. I don’t feel that way though.”
“Nobody said you had to,” I said.
“You be smart for yourself, Buzzy,” Miss Crabapple said. “Make those boys chase you. Don’t you go chase the boys. Make them earn it.”
“Earn what?” Buzzy asked.
“Nothing,” I said. I pointed to the wine bottle so Miss Crabapple would drink some more. I looked at Buzzy. “What’s got you confused?”
“How I feel, I guess,” Buzzy said. “I like Oliver. I just don’t know what to do next.”
“Just trust yourself,” I said. “Maybe you two can meet up outside of school. At a park or something. Maybe go to a movie.”
“Like a date?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Buzzy said. “Boys…”
I laughed.
I knew that feeling all too well.
So much so that I looked at my phone and felt my throat squeeze for a few seconds.
Buzzy was confused over boys and I was probably just as confused.
I had sent Jon almost fifty text messages.
Nobody knew about that except me and him.
He didn’t reply to a single text.
I guess when he exploded in front of everyone at the bakery and called it off, I thought it was just frustration. Like a fight between us.
But it was real.
He wanted nothing to do with me.
I hadn’t seen him or talked to him since that time.
And I needed to stop texting him.
I could not become that woman.
I put my phone away.
“Emily, tell the kid about your first love,” Miss Crabapple said. “Tell her it’ll be okay.”
“Yeah,” Buzzy said. “Will you tell me about your first boyfriend? Or crush?”
I opened my mouth.
Images of Liam flashed through my head way too fast.
Like they were conveniently stored there…
I felt my cheeks turn red.
“So his name was Liam?” Buzzy asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Liam. We were friends for a long time and then had feelings for each other. But… and this is a big but… we waited too long.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning we kind of just danced around how we felt. Which is fine. Again, you’re a teenager. However, you asked for the story and I’m telling it. I had to move and the night we decided to tell each other our feelings… well, nothing happened.”