Stations of Life

by Chloe Spencer

  Stations of Life

  By Chloe Spencer

  Published by JMS Books LLC

  Visit jms-books.com for more information.

  Copyright 2019 Chloe Spencer

  ISBN 9781646560172

  Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

  Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

  All rights reserved.

  WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

  No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

  This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published in the United States of America.

  * * * *

  To my friend Robin, who has been a significant source of inspiration and support in my life. Thank you for all that you’ve done for me.

  * * * *

  Stations of Life

  By Chloe Spencer

  “We can fix this, June-bug. With a little bit of effort, things will get back on track. Everything will go back to the way it used to be. I promise.”

  That was what Eloise told me last Thursday night, her throat and nostrils full of tears that reduced her boisterous voice to a low croak. That was what she said in her desperation; in the most pain that I’ve seen her in a long time.

  But I still walked out the door.

  * * * *

  When I arrived at work this morning, my coworkers made no mention of my messy hair and the fact that I was wearing the same clothes I wore on Monday. Same blue blazer and black pants, but with little spritzes of cinnamon perfume soaking into the polyester fabric. Okay, it wasn’t a perfume, it was air freshener, but who was going to know the difference?

  Since I left my wife, I’d been staying with my best friend Charlie, who lives in an apartment in downtown St. Paul. While his apartment has been newly renovated, which is nice, unfortunately he doesn’t have laundry in the actual building. I haven’t had an opportunity to go back and pick up more of my things, nor have I been able to run a load of laundry. Last weekend I was so numb, I just stared at the wall till I memorized the location of every stain and chip.

  After leaving my backpack at my desk, I made a beeline for the break room. I fumbled through the cabinets until I located my coffee mug, the one that Eloise bought me when I first started here. It’s an obnoxious orange color, meant to mimic a prescription bottle. On the side is a white label for the patient, Mr. Java Joe Espresso. Honestly, I don’t know why Eloise got this for me. It’s not like I’m addicted to caffeine or anything. She’s just the type of person who can’t resist buying gag gifts. On the bottom of the mug she wrote her name in black Sharpie, along with a little heart.

  I helped myself to a cup of coffee in the kitchen and rolled my eyes at my younger coworkers who continued to use the Keurig. All these different flavors, and for what? Do people honestly drink coffee for the taste? And do they understand how all these K-cups pile up in the landfills, since they aren’t recyclable? An environmentally conscious rage electrified every fiber in my body.

  Suzie is one of my younger coworkers, a recent graduate of Augsburg University, a private university in the Twin Cities. She’s fairly sweet, somewhat naive. I watched as she made herself a cup of caramel-apple coffee. Nasty.

  “June, how are you doing today?” Suzie asked, her nervous voice betraying her seemingly genuine smile.

  Yes, let’s all continue to dance around the elephant in the room. I clearly am going through some sort of major life crisis. The cinnamon air freshener did nothing to fool you, Suzie.

  “I’m doing fine. You?”

  “A little bit tired. This is my second cup of coffee this morning,” she said, politely covering her mouth with her hand as she yawned. “My roommates kept me up late again.”

  “Don’t they have work?”

  “They claim that they do, but honestly, they party so often that I’m starting to doubt it. Thank God my lease is almost up. I’m going to try to find my own place.”

  “No roommates?”

  “Thankfully I’ve cut down on my loan debt enough that I think I’d be comfortable going without roommates.”

  “That’s great. Well, best of luck to you.”

  “Oh, June, by the way, I think your wife came by the office on Friday looking for you.” Suzie tapped the edges of her mug, averting her eyes.

  “We’re getting a divorce,” I told her flatly.

  Suzie’s eyebrows rose. “Oh my God, June, I’m so sorry.”

  “Yeah. She has not been taking it well, clearly. I’ve had to block her number from my phone because she wouldn’t stop talking. Did she say anything to you?”

  “She wanted to make sure that you got your meds. It was kind of weird so I didn’t pry. I gave the bag of meds to Vanessa at the front desk. She locked them up.”

  My cholesterol medication. Shit. I haven’t taken it for a few days. My cardiologist will be pissed.

  “She also mentioned something about a meeting? Or like a family reunion? She said it was happening on Wednesday.”

  Goddamn, I forgot about that too. Tomorrow night my grandparents are hosting a reunion at Mancini’s, in celebration of their fiftieth wedding anniversary. What am I going to do? Should I cancel? Or do I tell Eloise not to show up? Ha. What a laugh. It’s not like she’ll listen to me. Once she gets an idea in her head, she’s going to see it through.

  I sighed, closing my eyes. I drank the rest of my coffee. Suzie gently reached out and touched my arm.

  “I’m sorry,” Suzie whispered. “I mean, I’ve never been married, but I went through a bad breakup a few years back.”

  “I don’t want her to have to keep coming back to the office,” I said with a heavy sigh, scratching the back of my head. “It’s going to make things awkward.”

  “Do you have a divorce lawyer? I would tell your divorce lawyer that she keeps stopping by and bothering you.”

  I laughed nervously, twisting the end of my ponytail. “Actually, I haven’t…I haven’t contacted a lawyer yet. I only told her last week that I wanted a divorce.”

  “Oh.”

  “Are you supposed to get the divorce lawyer first, and then say you want the divorce? This is my first divorce. I don’t really know how any of this works. Maybe I should have asked my dad before I did this.” My parents were divorced.

  “I mean, I would get one as soon as possible at the very least. And if she keeps harassing you, you can document it. In a courtroom, that should make you look better.”

  Jeez. I don’t mean to cut Eloise down. She’s already at her lowest point. But I guess that’s the nature of divorcing someone. I nodded, setting my empty coffee cup in the sink and filling it with water.

  “You said that you wanted to go to law school one day, right, Suzie? You think you’ll be a divorce lawyer?”

  “Corporate law is where the money’s at. I could be a divorce lawyer, but I think it would just be too sad. Being around people who are falling out of love and losing each other. And the kids, too. I babysat for a family for
a few years when I was in college, and when the parents got a divorce, those kids were inconsolable.” Suzie shakes her head, running her fingers through a strand of her strawcolored hair.

  “Thank God Eloise and I don’t have kids. She wanted them, but we were never stable enough to have them.”

  Worse, we would’ve had to do some sort of expensive-ass IVF treatment, or go through the difficult process of getting licensed and certified to foster or adopt, which comes with its own set of expenses. I didn’t even know if we would be eligible to start that process. In her freshman year of college, Eloise had spent a handful of nights in jail after some reckless partying. About a year ago, she mentioned that she really wanted to have a baby, but given that she has outstanding debt, we dismissed that idea for the time being.

  “I’m sorry to hear that, June.”

  “Yeah, well…” I wanted this conversation to end. “You know what, Suzie, I gotta get to work. I promised one of our contacts that I would give him a call this morning.”

  “The guy who had complaints about the pamphlet colors? That dude who runs the pet shop?”

  “Yeah. The one who agreed to Yusef’s logo design, and now decided that he thinks turquoise is an ‘obnoxious’ color.”

  “I like turquoise! I think it’s fresh.”

  “I spoke to Frank about the guy. We might actually need to just send him on his merry way or refer him to a competitor. He’s been a nightmare to work with.”

  I rinsed out my coffee cup and left it on the drying rack.

  “Good luck!” Suzie called out as I left the room.

  * * * *

  Around two P.M., I got a call from Charlie.

  “Hey dude,” I said, leaning back in my office chair. “What’s up?”

  “Hey, I got a call from Eloise. She said that you’re not returning her messages and she’s really worried about you.”

  I rolled my eyes. Jesus, Eloise. Can you give it a rest?

  “I blocked her number from my phone. That’s why I haven’t been returning her messages.”

  I could hear him release the longest sigh in the world. I couldn’t blame Charlie for being frustrated. After all, I was the one putting him in the middle of all of this. He had been our mutual friend since high school, but he had been my best friend for longer.

  “Juniper, can you just…not make this harder than it has to be?”

  “I’m getting a divorce, Charlie. Things are supposed to get worse before they get better.”

  “Yeah, but there’s that reunion tomorrow night, and the fact that all of your shit is still at your old house.”

  “Oh yeah, that reminds me. Can I borrow one of your sport coats tomorrow? I’m going to actually wash my clothes.”

  “I can lend you a sport coat, yeah, but uh, you need to get your shit.”

  “I know I need to get my shit.”

  “You need to get your shit, get it in a bag, and get it all together. I’m cool with you living with me for a while, but I am not okay with being caught in a nightmare game of phone tag between you and Eloise.”

  “I know, Charlie. I’m sorry. I will probably stop by after work tonight. First I’ll swing by the apartment and drop off my backpack with all my work stuff.”

  “Sounds good. Thank you. Oh, also, can you stop by Whole Foods on the way home? We’re out of soy milk.”

  “Ugh, Whole Foods? Can’t I go to Target?”

  “If Target has soy milk, yes. I need soy milk. Light kind, with the vanilla flavoring.”

  “The kind that tastes like actual milk, right.”

  “I can’t believe they still sell soy milk without the vanilla. How do people drink it? It’s just nasty bean water. It’s coffee without the benefits of caffeine.”

  “Charlie, I have to get back to work.”

  “Oh! Right, sorry. Love ya! See you tonight.”

  I hung up the phone and let out a shaky sigh. Then I opened up my contacts list and scrolled through for Eloise. I unblocked her, and the texts and calls came flooding in. Twenty-six messages, three voicemails.

  “I don’t know what I did to deserve this, Juniper.”

  Juniper is my full first name. Most people call me June though, and only use the full thing when they’re being serious.

  “Please, can’t you just call me? Can’t we talk about this?”

  Jesus. No, Eloise. We can’t talk about this. You refuse to grow up. You refuse to be independent. You want to fuck up, and let me fix it, over and over again. The night I left, I wanted to tell her that somewhere along the line, I had stopped being her wife, and became her caretaker.

  Eloise is the type of person who will try to do nice things for you, but end up creating trouble. Just last month, she decided that she was going to make a romantic dinner for us. Now, we both know that she’s not the best cook. I expected her to whip up some spaghetti and meatballs. Jesus, I wished she stuck to store-bought spaghetti and meatballs. Instead she came home with expensive vegan filets from The Herbivorous Butcher and some bizarre wild mushroom mix. She insisted that she would make vegan Beef Wellington and ended up scorching every pan that we had. One of the kitchen curtains caught on fire. What was supposed to be a romantic evening ended up being yet another goddamn nightmare. As the fire department examined the damage, I helped myself to cold pizza from the fridge. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes as she cried on the phone to our insurance agent about the whole debacle.

  Like I said, this wasn’t a one-time thing. She fucked up on the regular. When you’re younger, you think it’s cute and endearing. Oh, she’s a klutz, but at least she loves me! She tries her hardest to do nice things for me! When you’re twenty-eight years old like I am, you want someone whose messes you don’t have to clean up. You want to be able to come home and relax, not scramble around and put out fires. You start to wish she wouldn’t do nice things for you. In fact, you pray she doesn’t try. She doesn’t understand that big romantic gestures are obnoxious, and overwhelming—and the thing is, she’ll never learn.

  * * * *

  Because I worked in Nicollet Mall in downtown Minneapolis, and Charlie lived in St. Paul, I had to use the light rail to get home. I took the green line to get to St. Paul, and I got off at the Victoria Street station, right by the apartment complex. After work, I swung by Whole Foods to get a couple pints of Charlie’s soy milk, and I bought myself a couple of boxes of Lemonheads. I wasn’t one to buy candy, but I’d been craving sugar worse than I had in my life since I left home. Charlie was on a clean eating kick, so no junk food. In contrast, Eloise kept our kitchen cabinets fully stocked with fresh baked goods from Cub, like M&M cookies. Damn. Now I want a cookie. Why didn’t I buy cookies?

  Monday through Wednesday, public transportation in Minneapolis was generally at its busiest. But when I got on the light rail that afternoon, it was unusually empty. The only people on the train car were an older woman, and a young girl with blue hair. Sitting next to her was a backpack adorned with colorful plastic buttons. It was so cute, it was obnoxious.

  As soon as I sat down, my cell rang. Rolling my eyes, I answered the call. It was, of course, Eloise.

  “Juniper?” she whispered. Her voice still sounded as hoarse as it did on Thursday night. “Are you there?”

  “Unfortunately, yes, I am. Why do you keep calling me?”

  “Because we have a lot of things that we need to talk about.” She paused. “Did you get your medication?”

  “I got it this morning, thanks.”

  “I would’ve dropped it off at Charlie’s, but I didn’t think you’d want to see me.”

  “I don’t.”

  She sniffled. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.

  “J-Juniper, I just don’t understand. Is this about the fire? It was an accident. I don’t expect you to pay for it. The money from my job will cover the damages.”

  “Yeah, right. Except all that money has to go towards your credit card debt.”

  “Not anymore. I paid it off.”

 
I paused.

  “What?”

  The train rattled as it coasted along the tracks. I could feel its vibrations in the pit of my stomach; could hear the clack clack clack growing louder in my head.

  “I paid off my debt, Juniper. I went online last night and I made the last payment. It’s been taken care of. So let me take care of the damages to the kitchen.”

  “You told me it would be six months before you would manage to pay that off.”

  “I did? I don’t remember—”

  “Uh, yes, you clearly told me that you didn’t have the money. Where the hell did the money come from?”

  “I…” She sighed. “June-bug, please don’t be mad at me.”

  “Don’t call me that. I’m not the bad guy here. You’re the one who lied. Fess up.”

  “I didn’t think that I would have the money at first—”

  “Dig this hole a little deeper, why don’t you.”

  “I’ve always had the money, Juniper. I was setting aside the money to save up for a trip.”

  “A trip?”

  “Yeah. To Lisbon.”

  When I was in my sophomore year of college, I studied abroad in Portugal. I lived with a family in Lisbon and spoke the language. During that time, my relationship with Eloise had been long distance, and while that was rough, I found myself suffering from serious culture shock upon returning home. Since then, I had always wanted to revisit. I’ve just never had the time or money to return. Honestly, I was surprised that Eloise cared that I wanted to go back. I suspected that she harbored resentment towards me after being out of the U.S. for nine months. The week I got back, she avoided me completely and went bar hopping with Charlie and a few others from her school. When her bender finally came to an end, I found her in a frat house, dry heaving into a toilet.

  “It was going to be our anniversary present but…” Her voice thickened with tears. “I get that things are a bit strained between us right now. So I wanted to take care of any outstanding problems that we had first.”

  “How do I know you’re not bullshitting me?”

  “You just have to trust me. And something tells me you don’t.”