by Amber Foxx
“I know. But, see, I woke up again, so I was doing the breathing. And then I got to thinking, y’know, that you only get but so many breaths. You’ll stop someday. How many do I have left? It’s this bloody timer ticking down each time I exhale, and someday I won’t inhale again at the end.”
Mae smoothed his hair, stroking a few times to calm him down. His worry was like the thoughts she’d had at Florencia’s house, but more frightening. She’d hit a wall trying to imagine her own mortality. Jamie hadn’t. “You can’t lie there thinking about that in the middle of the night.”
“But I was. Thinking how many nights I haven’t spent with you that I could have, how many years will we get, how many breaths ... And then I could hear my heart. Fucking hear my heart. Jeezus. I’m doing this fucking relaxation exercise and it’s giving me an anxiety attack.” He half-laughed, half-sighed. “I didn’t want to wake you up, so I got some cookies.”
“Did you go to therapy today?”
“Yeah.” He sighed out a cloud of chocolate breath. “Talked about some hard stuff.”
“That’s progress when you do that, isn’t it?” She propped up on her elbow and ran a hand over his smooth, hairless chest. “Even when you have a little setback like this.”
“Nah. Wasn’t a setback. It was good. I’ll have to tell Gorman.” His psychologist. “See, I was anxious because I was afraid to die. I really want to live.” He sat up and groped along the tent floor until he found and turned on the lantern. “Not as scared of death as I am of the dentist yet, but, y’know, it’s still good.”
He crawled out of the bag. “Sorry about the light, got to find my toothbrush.” He wriggled into his jeans, an awkward process in the little tent. “Go back to sleep. Turn off the light once I’m out. I’ll come back in the dark. I think. Yeah.” A flash of a smile. “I can do that.”
Jamie ducked outside. Mae switched off the light. The dark was probably what had been making him anxious, making him hold her like that. She should have let him have the lantern on. There was so much to get used to in a relationship with Jamie.
He didn’t come back in right away, but started talking with someone, very softly. A female voice. Probably his mother. Mae grew drowsy again and drifted off with the fading, guilty thought that much as she loved him, it was easier to sleep without him.
Chapter Six
When Jamie stepped out into the moonlight to brush his teeth, he was surprised to see a woman sitting huddled in a blanket not far from his tent. All he could see of her was her broad back and long straight black hair. Strange that she should be there, but people did all sorts of things when they couldn’t sleep. Jamie finished brushing, set his cup and toothbrush down, and walked a few feet away to spit so it wouldn’t land where anyone would step in it. At the sound of his expectoration, the woman jerked her head around like a frightened animal. His old friend—Melody Chino Fatty.
“You scared me,” she said, just above a whisper. “You still don’t make any noise when you walk.”
“Only when I spit.” As he drew closer, he realized she’d been crying. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she was sniffling. He sat and put his arm around her shoulders, keeping his voice low. “What’s the matter?”
“Zak.” She wiped her eyes. “What else?”
“What’d he do?”
“Shit. Where do I start? Tonight? All day? You should have seen him at the powwow. He was flirting with this white chick, this friend of Bernadette’s, like he was comparing her and me. Her face was just average but her body—”
“Mel, that face isn’t average.” A fire rose in Jamie. He knew he should be listening to Melody, but he couldn’t hear Mae described as less than perfect. “That’s my soul mate. Most beautiful face on the planet. Nothing ordinary about her.”
“She’s your girlfriend?”
“Yeah—fucking amazing, isn’t it? Me, with the likes of her.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“Feel like that sometimes, though, y’know?” Belated embarrassment over snapping at Melody pulled him down into a tight huddle, arms around his shins, making it hard to breathe. He straightened up. “Sorry ’bout the rant.”
“It’s okay. It was sweet. Zak wouldn’t rant if someone said I was average. Or worse.” Melody sniffed and glanced toward Jamie’s tent. “Is she camping with you?” He nodded. She said, “Then you should get back in there with her.”
“Can’t leave you by yourself.”
“Zak would. He couldn’t care less.” She sniffed more loudly, rubbing at her nose.
Jamie plucked a handful of grass and offered it to her. “Hanky? Beats swallowing your snot.”
Melody’s laughter exploded while she was trying to be quiet, and it came out her nostrils, expelling a string of mucus. Jamie snort-laughed, then tried to stifle the sound so as not to wake people. “Jeezus, Mel. That was like something I’d do.”
She blew her nose in the wad of grass, pitched it toward the road, and gave him a little punch in the shoulder. “No, you’d have farted and blown your boogers out at the same time.”
Jamie passed wind and they fell into another bout of silent hilarity.
Melody caught her breath. “You can fart on cue? Have you been practicing that?”
“Nah. Vegan diet, you spend your whole life trying not to fart. Especially in the tent. And yoga. Jeezus. Fucking sphincter workout.”
Taken with another spell of struggling-to-be-quiet laughter, Melody curled over and Jamie flopped on his back. It was like they were kids, the same kind of jokes, as well as the same connection.
She said, “I haven’t laughed like that in ages. Zak never laughs with me anymore.” Her smile faded. “He laughs at me.”
Jamie sat up. “He teases everyone. Don’t you think he’s just playing with you?”
“No. He means it now. Since I got fat and ugly.”
“Don’t say that. Being fat doesn’t make you ugly. Just ... big.” He squeezed her hand. “Anyway, you’ve done things that matter more than your weight.” She’d put it on when she quit alcohol and drugs and then had twins. “Zak should take that into account and notice what’s beautiful about you. And so should you.”
“Beautiful.” Melody toyed with the hem of the blanket. “Remember how you felt when you were really big?”
“Bloody awful. But I was depressed. Out-of-my-fucking-mind clinically depressed. Didn’t feel that bad when I was just a chubby kid.” He plucked a few blades of grass and twisted them around his index finger. “You think you’re getting depressed?”
“No. I’m so pissed off I could explode.” Melody stared out at the road. “I had to work tonight. I’m part-time at the casino travel center now, at the convenience store. They try to schedule people who aren’t Apache during the ceremonies, but one of the white girls had a sick kid, and she’s a single mom, so I went in, but then one of the assistant managers took over for me after a few hours so I could go to the ceremonies. I was too tired by then, though, so I went home and the damned door was locked.”
“That’s weird. Thought you and Zak never locked up.”
“We don’t. I don’t ever want family to find a closed door. Especially Misty.”
“Would she have locked it?”
“She doesn’t have a key. And Zak was home. I could hear voices inside but there were no extra cars in our driveway. When I unlocked the door and walked in, I heard someone go out the side, through the kitchen. And then Zak came into the living room and gave me the fakest smile, all friendly, like ‘Great, you got off work early.’ But I could tell he was nervous, like he was lying.”
“Strange. Wonder what he’s up to.”
“Cheating on me.”
“With the kids in the house?”
“They’re with Pearl for the night. Since I had to work, and Zak—I thought—was at the ceremonies.”
“Still. Person went out the kitchen door, not the bedroom window.”
“You think people only do it in beds?”
Jamie had never done it anywhere but a bed until tonight in the sleeping bag. “You really think he’d fuck someone on the kitchen floor?”
“If you knew some of the things me and Zak have done, you wouldn’t ask that. We—”
“Jeezus. I don’t need to know. I get the idea.”
“I asked him who’d just left and he said it was no one, that he’d opened and closed the door to put a bug outside. I said it was one big bug—I heard its footsteps. And there was beer on the counter, a whole six-pack, and one of the cans was out and open. We don’t have alcohol in the house, ever. And he didn’t smell like he’d been drinking—it had to be the person who left. I asked him what he thought he was doing, having some woman over, and he says how did I know there’d been a woman? And that I was supposed to be at work and he could do what he damned well pleased and that included having a beer without asking my permission or having to explain. I was so mad, I just couldn’t stay there. It made me want to drink that beer.”
“You should’ve gone to your mum’s. Stayed the night.”
“I was going to. But when I got in the car I was scared I’d go buy something to drink. When it hits me like that, I don’t trust myself. So I grabbed this blanket off the seat and hoped you’d be up. When I didn’t see a light in your tent, I just sat down and cried. I’m sorry. You’ve got your new girlfriend here. I’m spoiling your night with her.”
“Nah. Come on.” Jamie got to his feet and shifted his bad hip, trying to rock the glitch out. He offered Melody a hand. “I’ll make him give me the beer. Find out what was going on, too.”
“Thanks. Zak listens to you.” Pulling on his arm, she nearly toppled him as she rose. “Sorry.”
“No worries. Be nice and soft if I fell on you.” Melody glared at him. Jamie grinned, wrapping the blanket more neatly around her. “I get to make fat jokes. Entitled. Member of the club.”
As they began walking across the camping area, spiky weeds in the grass stabbed at Jamie’s bare feet, and the cold hit him hard, making him shake. He considered ducking back into the tent for a shirt and shoes, but he’d woken Mae enough already and would disturb her again when he came back. Anyway, the mission shouldn’t take long.
Rap music pounded inside the blue house as Jamie and Melody crossed the road and cut across the yard. The driveway was full of cars, and the windows revealed a crowd in the living room.
“Shit.” She huddled into her blanket and stopped for a moment. “This is crazy. I’ll kill him. I complain about one person and one six-pack, so he invites the whole damned world?”
So much for a quick and simple mission. What had gotten into Zak? He must have called everyone he could think of, and with local people as well as returning tribal members camping for the long weekend, they’d come quickly.
On a front porch that sagged at one end, a young woman sat on a glider, moving the creaking seat back and forth and holding a beer can. She looked up as Jamie and Melody climbed the steps. He recognized Melody’s younger sister Misty. She frowned at Jamie. “What happened to your shirt?”
“Went to the casino.”
“What?”
“Y’know—lost my shirt. What the fuck’s going on?”
“What does it look like?”
Melody snapped, “And you’re part of it?”
“No. I’m here to see you.”
“Then get rid of that beer.”
With a stony stare, Misty handed Jamie her drink. Melody eased down onto the glider and it creaked more loudly. “I don’t want you turning out like I did.”
“I’m not going to. I had half of it and that’s all I wanted.”
Melody said, “Take care of the party, Pudge. I’ve got to take care of my sister.”
Fuck. Jamie hadn’t seen Zak yet on this trip, and this was how they would greet each other? He emptied the beer over the railing and opened the door.
Party guests packed the dimly lit living room. Jamie recognized a few faces he couldn’t put names to. He remembered Will Baca, one of Melody’s former drinking buddies, a short, lean man with fine features marred by a slightly crooked nose, as if he’d broken it since the last time Jamie had seen him. Not surprising, if Will was still as wild as he’d been when he was a teenager.
Zak stood in a corner, eyes closed, rapping along with the music.
Jamie projected his voice, loud without shouting. “Wake up, Skinny. Your wife’s home. And turn down the fucking music.”
Zak popped out of his trance. “Can’t take it, Pavarotti? Or it’s not good enough for you?” He lowered the volume and shook Jamie’s hand. “Good to see you, man. Sorry we didn’t invite you. It was spur of the moment. And I didn’t think Mae would want to come.” He looked Jamie over and laughed. “What are you doing? Showing off your physique?”
“What are you doing? You never do crap like this.”
“It’s a holiday weekend. I’m having a party.”
“Without asking Mel?”
“She can go to her mother’s.”
“She was too upset to drive. Scared she’d buy a drink.”
Their eyes met, and Zak looked away.
“Come on. Talk to me.” Jamie led the way into Zak and Melody’s bedroom.
Zak followed and closed the door. “So, you’re my wife’s knight in shining ...” He snickered. “... armor?”
“Give me a shirt and listen.”
Zak opened a drawer and tossed Jamie a T-shirt. “This is hers. Two-X. You can keep it. She wears a three-X now.”
Jamie pulled the shirt over his head. “Don’t give up on her just because she gained weight. Jeezus. Give her time. You’re making it hard for her.”
“Right. I’m making it hard for her. I can’t have friends over for a beer like a normal man because my wife’s scared she’ll drink it. After she’s sober almost four years? How much time do I have to give her? The rest of her life?”
“If she needs it, yeah. If you love her.”
“Listen to the marriage expert. You have no idea what it’s like to be with the same person this long. The same fucked-up person. I love her—you know I do. I have since we were kids. But she quits drinking and drugging and starts eating. It’s just another wall, like she got fat at me. Mel’s a mess and she’s always gonna be one. I need a break sometimes.”
Jamie imagined Mae talking to someone in fifteen years about having spent all those years with the same fucked-up person. Jamie’s a mess and he's always gonna be one. I need a break. A rush of anxiety battered his guts. He took a deep breath and tried to silence the thoughts. “Mel thinks you’re cheating on her.”
“Because I was putting a bug out. Thanks to you.” Zak sat on the bed. “Want me to start squashing them again?”
“No.” Early in their friendship, Jamie had yelled at Zak, You can’t kill something just because it’s ugly. Of course, Zak had held the beetle up in Jamie’s face before putting it outside, asking, Even something this ugly? “But was it really a bug? She said she heard someone walking out.”
“That was me, walking down the steps and back up. Mel’s jealous. She’s imagining things.”
“Then maybe you should stop doing crap that makes her jealous.”
“Why is this my fault?”
Jamie dropped into the threadbare old armchair beside the bed, rolling the empty can he still held back and forth between his hands. “Mae said you were flirting with her.”
“Just funning. Can’t she take a compliment?”
“She doesn’t know you, doesn’t know how to take you. You’re an acquired taste, y’know? And anyway, if you act like that in front of your wife, you’re bloody well asking for her to be jealous.”
“I’m just being myself.”
True. Flirting was a habit. Zak thought it made him charming. And the party, in some ways, was classic Zak contrariness. He resented any hint that someone was trying to control him and would go out of his way to prove they couldn’t. Cheating was out of character, though, and so was
lying—but he seemed to have done it. Lied, at least. “Mel heard you talking with another person. Who was here? Why’d you have to hide it?”
Zak leaned his forearms on his thighs and ground his knuckles against each other. “It’s something Mel can’t know about.”
“You can still tell me.”
Jamie waited, but Zak said nothing. Noise from the party filled the gap. What would Zak want to hide? It came across like he was doing something illegal or immoral. Strange. Unlike Melody, Zak had always been proud of staying out of trouble. “Mate. Unload it, will you?”
Silence. Zak didn’t move.
Jamie thought of the things he’d kept from Mae. He used to conceal troubles he was ashamed of, but not anymore. Now he only hid things like camping. Surprises. “Were you trying to surprise her?”
Instead of answering, Zak stood and asked, “Are we done? I have a party to go to, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
“Jeezus. Don’t you trust me?”
“Yes, damn it, but if I tell you, you’ll tell her. So forget about it. Have a drink and head back to your red-hot redhead.”
“Move the party to someone else’s house.”
“It’s a lot easier to move Melody to her mother’s house. And she can take Misty, too. She’s having a big whine about Reno and I don’t want to listen to it. Those girls need to get out of here and let people have some fun.”
As they entered the living room, Jamie imagined taking center stage and telling everyone to leave. Then he looked at Will Baca with his crooked nose and scarred knuckles and thought twice. Will was smaller than Jamie but twice as tough. And drunk. A fight would only make things worse, and no one would listen to Jamie, anyway. It wasn’t his house or his party.
Jamie went out onto the porch. Melody and Misty were sharing the blanket on the glider, talking softly.
“Sorry.” Jamie dug his toes into the fibers of the doormat. “Couldn’t talk him out of it. He says you two should go to your mum’s place.”
Melody’s eyes blazed. She threw off the blanket and heaved herself to her feet. “He does, huh?” She swept past Jamie, making him jump aside, and stormed into the house. The music cut off abruptly, and Melody’s voice bellowed, “Everybody out. Take your liquor and your beer, every last drop of it. Now.”