by Amanda Cowen
But it’s hard to forget sometimes, especially when I’m trying to get ready for a Saturday night poker game and my mother calls me in tears again. Her depression came back full force over the summer, and I was the one left to take care of her, just like I have for the past ten years of my life. Hearing her cry on the other end of the line makes it hard not to resent my father and Heidi, now his fiancée. He left us instead of being there for her, and now I’m the one who takes care of her. I’m the one who talks her down, makes sure she attends her therapy appointments, and reminds her to take her medication, even when all seems hopeless in her mind.
Maisie must have overheard my conversation because she walks into my bedroom and sits down on the edge of my bed. She tucks her blonde hair behind her ears and rests her hands on her lap before giving me one of her pity stares, tilting her head to one side. She would do anything for me when it comes to dealing with my mother, but she just doesn’t understand mental illness. She doesn’t understand my situation the way Ryan does. He has a sister who suffers from bipolar disorder. When it comes to who I can confide in and or turn to for support, it isn’t Maisie, even though I know she means well.
I glance over at Maisie and gently tell my mother I need to go and I’ll call her later. Maisie looks stunning in a pair of painted-on faux leather pants and a white crop top. She is in unbelievable shape. Her makeup is flawless and her lips are painted a deep, dark red. When I hang up the phone, we sit in an easy silence while I fidget with a ring on my finger.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” I breathe. “I’m fine. My mom’s not doing well right now.”
I stand up from the edge of my bed and walk over to my closet, rifling through my clothes. I try to find something I want to wear that will look even an ounce as amazing as Maisie’s outfit looks on her body. Unfortunately, I don’t own anything that sexy.
“You hanging in there?” she asks.
I laugh without much humor and glance over at her, “I’ve been hanging in there since she was diagnosed when I was only eleven.”
“You’re still coming to poker tonight, right?”
“Yeah, of course.”
I select my black ripped jeans and grab a basic gray t-shirt. Maisie notices my selection, frowns, and takes them from my hands. “This outfit is sad,” she simply says. She digs through my closet and finds a striped off-the-shoulder blouse I had bought on a whim and have never worn. The price tags are still on.
“I think you should wear this instead,” her smile grows wider. “You need to feel good about yourself when you are feeling down. Get a little sexed-up tonight. I’ll do your makeup. You can keep the ripped jeans because they are better than any pair of yoga pants you own.”
“Very funny.” I nudge her. I love Maisie’s ability to bring me back to normal when sometimes, it feels like my life is anything but normal. I also love her ability to make me laugh and her easy smile. Besides Ryan, she’s the best friend I’ve ever had.
“I’ll let you get dressed,” she says watching me. She’s making sure I’m actually okay and not about to bail because I’m still upset over my mom. “We are leaving in fifteen minutes, so hurry up.”
We walk to Ryan, Jayce, and Kale’s apartment with their newest roommate, Liam. It’s only a few blocks away, but tonight the walk seems a lot longer than usual. Probably because my mind is still a tad foggy from my earlier telephone conversation with my mom, and also because I’m carrying a case of beer. Our weekly poker tradition tasks the winner from the previous week to supply the beer for the following weekend from part of their winnings. Since I was the winner of our last poker round, I am the beer supplier for this round.
We walk up two flights of stairs and hook a right on a covered walkway overlooking the ocean. We reach their apartment door, and I smile at the perverted door knocker – a naked man with huge balls – and Maisie raps twice at the door with it. That hideous thing was my housewarming gift to Ryan when the guys moved into an apartment together in our sophomore year. He loves the shock value from people who see it for the first time. I think it’s hilarious, and it’s the most appropriate knocker to sum up their household.
I can hear male voices, and the warm evening air whips around us on the stoop. Finally, I hear footsteps just in front of the door, and it swings open.
Ryan appears with a fresh new haircut and a clean-shaven face. He’s shirtless, and his jeans hang low on his hips, revealing the black waistband of his boxers.
“Hey, Jonesy and Maisie are finally here,” he shouts over his shoulder.
“Why are you half-naked?” I ask.
But before he says anything, I get my answer. Alodie pops up behind him with a smile and slips on her heels. “Hey, girlies,” she kisses the side of his cheek and slides past him. She’s wearing a flimsy green dress, her lips are swollen, and her hair is a mess, like she’s just had sex.
“Oh, hi Alodie. You’re back.” Maisie greets her on behalf of both of us. “Are you just heading out?”
“Yeah, my plane got in late last night. I promised one of my girlfriends from class I’d go out with her for her birthday… but of course I had to stop in for a quickie –” Ryan laughs at her Freudian slip, and she giggles. “Oops. I meant stop in quick to see Ryan.”
I don’t know why her presence suddenly irritates me, but it does. Ryan just stands there, clearly proud of himself. What a cocky asshole. Was stopping by to fuck him really necessary before she went out clubbing with her friends? She couldn’t wait until later, when no one would be around?
“I’ll text you later, okay?” she blows him a kiss. “Have fun tonight.”
“You too,” he says to her backside. Once she is out of sight, he smiles down at me, puts his hand on my head and ruffles my hair. When I whack his hand away, he laughs.
“God, Ryan. Move out of the way already,” Maisie pushes past him. “And please. Put some clothes on.”
Ryan laughs and Maisie walks into the living room where the rest of the guys are already gathered. He takes the case of beer out of my hands and places it down on the entryway table.
“You bought my favorite beer, how nice of you.” I can hear the playfulness in his voice.
“Corona happens to be my favorite beer, actually,” I remind him.
He pauses. “I don’t think so.”
“Yeah, it is. You’re a copycat.” His eyes study me. “Just like how you are wearing skinny jeans right now, shaved your beard and got yourself a haircut. You want to be a borderline hipster, too.”
“You’ve always been pretty high on yourself, but this accusation takes the cake.” He says with a little smile.
God, he’s such a dick. But the twinkle in his eyes tells me he loves how I challenge him and that he’s completely aware I’m the one who introduced him to Corona. He only drank Bud Light before he met me.
“Hey, Ella. Ryan. Get in here!” Jayce shouts from the living room.
We walk in and see that it has been turned into a makeshift poker lounge. The coffee table has been replaced with a poker table, surrounded by black folding chairs. Christmas lights are strung from corner to corner for extra lighting, and half-eaten bags of chips and junk food are scattered all over the end tables. Kale mindlessly scrolls through his phone. Maisie is sitting on Jayce’s lap and whispers in his ear, even though there is an empty chair beside him. Liam smiles over at me, taking a step forward and hands me a blue cocktail. He winks, and I take it from his hand.
“What’s this?”
“I promised you a cocktail.” He flicks his blonde hair out of his face, giving me the most spectacular view of his big blue eyes. “I hope you don’t mind trying one of them tonight.”
“Now this is a way a girl should be greeted,” I say, impressed. “Thank you. How did you know blue was my favorite color?”
“Lucky guess.”
“Blue isn’t your favorite color,” I turn to Ryan’s voice on my right to see him carefully pulling bottles out of the beer case before crack
ing one open.
“It isn’t?” I say, then shake my head, laughing. He damn well knows my favorite color is blue. He’s the one who helped paint my grandmother’s vintage furniture that exact color.
“No. Teal is your favorite color,” he clarifies and passes Jayce a beer. “At least that’s what you told me. It may be a member of the blue family, but it’s not blue,” he adds.
Jayce laughs. “How do you know more mindless facts about Ella than I probably know about Maisie? Seriously, Ryan, how do you even remember something like that?”
“Probably because he’s not fucking her,” Maisie says. “He actually listens when she tells him things because he isn’t fantasizing about taking her clothes off.”
Ryan glances over at me and I look away.
“Meh, that’s one way of looking at it.” Kale pipes up.
With a sigh, I flop down onto a chair around the poker table. Liam takes the seat next to me. Everyone else finds a seat and soon enough, cards are dealt, chips are wagered, and people are bluffing. Maisie is the first person out. Ryan boldly goes All-In a few hands later, which irritates me because I finally have a pretty decent hand – a solid pair of Jacks – so I call him on it. He then beats me with a Full House. It was an amateur move on my part, but he was egging me on. Unfortunately, I let his pompous-ass smile get in the way of rational thought.
Eventually, karma kicks Ryan right where it hurts, and he loses all his chips to Jayce. Only Kale, Jayce and Liam remain when I find myself in the kitchen snacking on some salsa and chips.
“Are you enjoying that fruity drink?”
I jump at the sound of Ryan’s voice. I look up at him, and his smile only grows bigger when he notices how surprised I am… yet happy to see him.
“Sure am.” I don’t miss the way he moves to my right side, snakes the drink from my hand, and takes a long and slow sip. “Tasty, huh?”
“I almost believe you find this fruity liquid tasty,” he replies. “Your bullshit skills are off the charts when you want to get laid.”
“I learned from the best,” I wink.
Kale walks into the kitchen and tugs the fridge door open. He glances over at us and pulls out a plate of leftover pizza. “I’m out.”
“That was quick.”
Kale shrugs. “You two coming back to watch? Jayce and Liam are about to battle it out for poker champion.”
“In a bit.” I blink back to find Ryan watching me.
Kale holds out a plate of cold pizza, offering us a slice each. When we both decline, he shrugs again and walks back into the living room.
“Don’t you want to cheer on Thor?”
“Is that what you’re calling Liam now?”
Ryan laughs in response – eyes twinkling, but otherwise definitely amused at how annoyed this makes me – and he drapes his arm around my shoulders.
“It’s a compliment. He’s blonde, big, and burly. I’m just a little shocked you’re flirting with the idea of pursuing him. You do know he doesn’t wear wrinkly band t-shirts or play the guitar?”
I roll my eyes. “You should be happy I may be interested in pursuing him. He’s your friend. And you are dating one of my friends, after all.”
“She’s not really your friend,” he interrupts in a mumble. “You two work together.”
“We were friends before you started banging her,” I remind him. “I take it from earlier this evening you two are still going strong?”
He shrugs. “I suppose you could say that.”
“Were you a good boy over the summer?”
“Long distance wasn’t really working for me in Australia.”
“Girls in bikinis are hard to resist.”
He laughs, “Yeah… by week three I told her I didn’t want to be exclusive anymore because I didn’t want to cheat.”
“How noble of you.”
“My honesty impressed her… she was okay with it as long as I didn’t tell her what I was doing or who I was doing it with… so…” He looks down and crosses his arms over his chest, exhaling slowly. “I guess now that I’m back in San Fran, we are still going strong or whatever.”
“Sounds like you two have a very stable and committed relationship.”
He makes a show of cracking open a beer and taking a sip. “You know I don’t do girlfriends.”
“Maybe you should let Alodie know that.”
“Don’t stand there and judge me, Jonesy. You were enamored with a guy this summer who traveled around playing in a loser indie band. And now you’re enamored with a guy who lives in a different continent.”
“Not for the next few months, he doesn’t.”
“Exactly,” he says. “You’re more relationship-phobic than I am. You never think long-term about anyone. At least the person I’m slugging it out with isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, and maybe there’s actual potential that it could work. Liam is just another blip on your radar of endless men.”
He’s definitely growing irritated with my interest in Liam, which – let’s be honest – only makes me more interested in pursuing him. “Unless Liam has a wife back in Australia or some pressing drug problem I should know about, I really don’t care if I have your blessing.”
“Go ahead, pursue Liam and his fruity cocktails,” Ryan glances over at me. “But mmm, Corona is just so… what’s the word? Oh, right. Refreshing.”
He makes another show of resting his elbow on the countertop and slowly sipping his beer – more dramatically this time – inches away from my face, watching me with a smirk as I stand there holding the second signature cocktail Liam made me, which I’ll never admit I dislike. It’s way too sweet. I desperately want to rip that beer from his hand and take a sip, but I won’t ever give him the satisfaction.
I raise an eyebrow. “I can’t believe I ever counted down the days until you return from Australia. What was I thinking? You’re so irritating.”
He straightens up a bit. “Yeah, right. I bet you ticked off every day on your calendar.” He clinks my glass with the lip of his beer. I can’t help but laugh.
Silence falls between us. Ryan changes the subject. “How’s your mom doing?”
“Remember when I told you she wasn’t doing so well?” He nods and I continue talking. “She isn’t doing any better. Actually, she’s a bit worse. I’m a worried about her and I just wish she could snap out of it, you know? But of course I know she can’t. I really don’t want to have her admitted again, especially now that I heard rumors my dad and Heidi may have secured a wedding date. I just don’t need the extra stress right now.”
“Shit, Ella. I’m sorry to hear that.” He leans forward and gives me a hug, holding me close in one of his tight embraces. If Ryan does one thing well, it’s giving good hugs. The side of his face nuzzles against my hair, and he exhales deeply. “If you ever need to talk, you know you can call me or stop by anytime.”
“I know.”
He holds me for a few more comforting beats of silence.
“Hey, I’ve got something that may cheer you up.” He wiggles his eyebrows and digs around in the back pocket of his jeans. “How about tickets to an Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros concert next weekend?”
My first response is to rip the tickets from his hand and make sure they are real and he’s not messing with me. My second response, post-inspection, is to jump up and down a few times, shriek with delight, and wrap myself around him, legs on waist, arms on neck. I love folk music, and Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros are my favorite band. Ryan loves folk music too, and the band, just as much as I do. I wanted to get tickets so badly when I heard they would be playing in San Francisco, but I couldn’t afford them. I could kiss Ryan (in an unromantic way) for getting us these tickets.
“I’m going to take your excitement as a thank you.”
“Yes, thank you. How did you secure four tickets? They were so expensive and they sold out instantly.”
He ruffles my hair with a smile. “I have my ways.”
“Who a
re the other two tickets for?”
He shrugs. “I thought Maisie and Jayce might want to come.”
“You are the best.” I can’t resist to give him another hug, so I do.
“Hey, you two need to get in here,” Kale shouts from the living room. “Liam just went All-In against Jayce. This could be a game-ender for this week’s poker champion.”
Ryan looks down at me with disgust. “Looks like Thor may raise his mighty hammer after all.”
I roll my eyes and lead the way back into the living room, finding an empty sofa cushion behind Liam. Jayce is sitting on the opposite side of the poker table, Maisie on his right. She is focused on the hand Jayce is holding, biting her fingernails. Kale is sitting at the head of the table as the designated card dealer. He discards a card and then gives a fifth card flip just as Ryan perches himself on the arm of the sofa. Liam beams with triumph as he turns his cards over, a huge smile on his face. He has a Straight. Jayce tosses his cards on the table and curses. Although he has a pair of solid pair Aces, it isn’t good enough to beat Liam.
Liam collects his winnings and turns to me with a smile.
“Did you see that, Ella?” he says, leaning back in his chair.
“Oh, I saw.” I hold up my hand for a high-five, which he reciprocates with a firm smack.
“Way to go, Liam,” Ryan says. “You’re in charge of buying a case of beer for the next poker game with your winnings. Too bad they don’t import garbage Australian beer to America.”
Liam laughs and pats Ryan’s shoulder. “No worries, mate. I’ll make sure I grab you a case of something that won’t get you as tipsy as that garbage Australian beer did that night on the beach.”
“Excuse me?” Jayce laughs. “Do tell us the story of how Ryan made an ass of himself.”
“Who says I made an ass of myself?” Ryan asks.
“Oh, come on, mate. I’ve only known you for three short months and even I know you’re a little impulsive and goofy when you’re drunk.”