by Ronica Black
“It’s over with Gail,” Johnnie said. “She just won’t leave me alone.”
Elaine looked up just before she climbed into her car. “Well, if you’re fucking her, she’s not going to go away. Trust me on that one.”
Johnnie watched helplessly as she climbed in and started her engine. After she backed out, she peeled away, leaving Johnnie in the late afternoon sun. It never felt sharper as it pierced her eyes and Elaine’s words pierced her heart.
Chapter Thirty-seven
The desert was blooming with life, and Elaine was sitting on her back patio taking it all in. Baby birds were chirping, mothers and fathers leaving the trees to search for food. The air was crisp after a short rain, and Elaine could smell the earth and the trees. She eased back in her lounge chair and stared at the swaying palms in the breeze, letting them talk her into a quick nap. Her eyes grew heavy in response and she fell limp. The magazine she’d been reading slid from her lap, and she startled awake. She retrieved the magazine and settled back in, but she was no longer as relaxed as she was before.
Her recovery had been going well for the most part. But her insomnia had worsened. The doctor said her heart was fine and doing well, and she was proud of Elaine for exercising daily and eating a proper diet. But the sleep problem, that was a different story. Dr. Klein recommended a psychiatrist, and Elaine had fought her on it. But Dr. Klein knew her history; she knew about her loss. And she also knew that Elaine had done very little to deal with it.
“Hello!” Michael called from the side gate.
“Come on in!” she replied.
She heard the squeak of the gate and then the tornado rush of his new little Yorkshire terrier, Maximus, tearing through the yard. Donovan had adopted him as a surprise for Michael, who had been thrilled. He’d been begging Elaine to come meet him. Michael rounded the corner with a smile, hand in the pocket of his khaki shorts, with the other carrying magazines. He plopped them down on the small table next to her and groaned as he settled in on the opposite lounge chair.
“It is a goddamned gorgeous day,” he said, soaking up the clean sunshine. He placed his hands behind his head and looked over at her with one eye closed. “So,” he looked to the tiny dog, “what do you think? He cuter than me?”
She laughed. “Mm, you might have some competition.”
“Sha, you sound like Donovan.”
They both watched the dog hop through the grass. Then Michael looked at her once again.
“So how you doing, El?”
She raised her eyebrows and watched Maximus make his rounds to her bushes and trees. “Okay, I suppose.”
“Liar. You look like a ghost. You haven’t slept much have you?”
She shrugged.
“Did you make an appointment with that shrink?”
She glared at him. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”
He laughed. “My God, you are stubborn.”
“I’m a psychologist. I do not need a shrink.”
“What you need,” he said, “is to sleep. You can’t fully recover without sleep.”
“I’m well aware of that, thank you.”
“So call.”
“I’ve made an appointment with my general practitioner.”
He laughed again. “Oh, if Barb were here now.”
“Yeah, well, she’s not.”
“I wish she was because she’d have your ass in that shrink’s office in a nanosecond. Dragging you in by your ear if necessary. She couldn’t stand to see you suffer just because you’re stubborn. She thought it was ridiculous. Remember?”
Elaine didn’t say anything.
“Am I going to have to do the dragging?”
She gave him a look. “I dare you to try.”
He sighed. “I think you should see the psychiatrist. You need to deal with more than just the insomnia. You need to deal with your loss. Grieve properly. You know this, Elaine.”
“Of course I know, Michael. It’s just not so easy to recognize things when it’s yourself.”
“Okay, then let’s step out of you.”
She chuckled.
“No, I’m serious. Pretend I’m talking to you about a client. She’s middle-aged, widowed, kind of a lone wolf, has casual sex, doesn’t date, rarely comes out to see her friends, overworks, over drinks, hasn’t gone through the stages of grief, can’t sleep, keeps her emotions bottled up—”
“Okay. I get it. I’m a little fucked up.”
“You’re not fucked up; you’re just sad.” He took her hand. “And you miss her. And that’s okay.”
She couldn’t look at him. If she did she knew she would cry.
“Let someone help you with that. If not me, then someone. Please. I want you back. I want the laugh back, the dancing green eyes, the fearless wit.”
“What if she’s gone for good?” Elaine said.
“She’s not. She may have changed a little, but she’s still in there.”
Maximus jumped up near her feet and then balanced his way up to her. She scratched his head and sealed her mouth as he showered her with kisses.
“See, Maximus agrees.”
She laughed. “I bet he agrees with anyone.”
Michael released her hand and stared at the sky. “You know what we need?”
“A margarita with salt?”
He laughed. “Besides that. We need a trip to Sedona.”
She stared at the sky with him while scratching Maximus on the chest. He made a noise of pleasure and rolled onto his back on her chest.
“As soon as you get some sleep that is,” he said.
“Maybe.” She had to admit Sedona did sound nice. Maybe stop off at Oak Creek, have a picnic lunch. Do a little hike. Visit the shops. Take photos. It sounded nice. Really nice. “I might just take you up on that,” she said.
“I’ll hold you to that,” he said.
He grabbed the magazines and perused through them.
Elaine noted the Time, People, National Geographic, Photography. He’d brought them for her, which was nice. She looked at the one he chose.
“Men’s Health?” she asked.
He shrugged. “I like the articles.”
She laughed. “Oh, I do too.”
“Leave me alone,” he said, flipping through it.
She opened the Time and skimmed through, searching for an interesting read. Michael was still doing the same.
“So have you seen any of Johnnie?” he asked nonchalantly.
Elaine froze and her heart sank into a deep pit. She tried to regain her composure by flipping pages, but it was too late, he’d seen it.
“El?”
“No, I haven’t.” In fact, it had been a couple of weeks since she’d last seen Johnnie at her studio. The memory of it was all too real. All too painful. She preferred not to think about it. But honestly, it was eating her up at night, causing her to toss and turn, driving her to madness. She’d finally give in and get up, open a bottle of wine, sit and stew in the living room with vocal jazz saturating her mind with Johnnie and Barb until she was so damn deep in it she was drowning with no one there to save her.
He raised an eyebrow. “I figured the two of you would be seeing a lot of each other.”
She tossed the magazine aside. Searched for the New Yorker. It wasn’t there.
“Did you bring me a New Yorker?”
“Nope.”
She grabbed the People and tore through the pages. Why did he have to bring up Johnnie? Couldn’t she just relax outside on a beautiful day?
“I think you should call her,” he said softly.
“I think you should mind your own business.”
He smiled and tilted his head as if he’d taken a blow to the face. “I think you’d better call her before someone else scoops her up. She’s quite the catch.”
“I think you should know that she already has someone else. Her ex. So there.”
“Really?” He put down his magazine and stared at her.
She put
hers down as well. “Yes.”
“When did this happen?”
“I don’t know. But she admitted to sleeping with her and then the ex showed up at the studio while I was there. She was not happy. Which leads me to believe that Johnnie is not being honest with either one of us.”
She knew that probably wasn’t the case. What she saw in Johnnie, felt in her kiss, was all too real. And Johnnie had told her she’d only thought of her, and the ex had even confirmed it. But it sounded like a good enough reason, and maybe it would keep Michael at bay. Her insane jealousy at the sight of the two of them…that was more difficult to keep at bay. She didn’t like the feeling, and honestly, she had no right to feel that way. Yes, she and Johnnie had shared a kiss and their feelings, but Johnnie had slept with her ex before that. And she and Johnnie weren’t exclusive or even dating. But even so, knowing that Johnnie had been with someone else while they were navigating their way toward each other…it gave her pause and made her think. Maybe Johnnie wasn’t really so into her after all. Why else would the ex show up at studio and act so possessive? Had Johnnie already sunk back into a relationship with her ex just because she hadn’t heard from her in a few days?
The possibility stung, and it only added to the madness of her feelings and the thoughts of Barb and everything else swirling in her mind late at night.
Michael had stopped turning his pages. He was focused now, but she doubted he was really reading.
“Are you sure about all that? Have you discussed it with her?”
“She tried to tell me it was over between them.”
“Then maybe it is.”
“I doubt it. The ex seemed pretty pissed. Acted like I was an intruder.”
He scoffed. “Right, and that’s never happened to you, right? Unwanted one-night stands hunting you down when you had already told them to get lost?”
She adjusted her sunglasses and took a sip of her iced tea. His point had hit home, and she recalled Johnnie telling the ex to get lost. Maybe he was right. Then again maybe she was. Either way, she was keeping it as far away from her as she could.
“But the nights are a bitch,” she whispered to herself.
“Hmm?”
“Nothing.”
She sat up and placed Maximus on the ground. He took off into the grass and chased a lizard to the wall and then barked as it escaped by climbing upward. She needed to move, to get out of the stagnation she was in. Michael was stirring things up in her just like always. Maybe she should go to Sedona on her own.
She stood and stretched carefully. Her incision wasn’t so tender anymore, but she still imagined it could easily tear open somehow.
“Let me take you to dinner,” Michael said, rising with her.
She moved toward the back door. “I’m not up for it tonight. Thank you, though.”
He stood still with his hands in pockets, trying to fend off defeat. “I could make you something.”
She blinked slowly. Her body felt like lead. She needed to lie down and at least try to sleep.
“Not today, okay?”
He nodded.
He came to her and hugged her. She leaned into him but kept her arms slack. If she held him she might never let go. She knew he was her anchor in her increasingly tumultuous sea. But she needed to try to stay afloat on her own. At least for now.
“You coming in tomorrow?” he asked, releasing her.
She nodded.
“You don’t have to you know.”
“I know.”
“If you don’t show I’ll assume you’re sleeping.”
“Okay.”
He kissed her cheek and called to Maximus. She watched as they walked through the grass to the back gate. He let himself out with the Yorkie on his heels. She went inside and collapsed on the couch, television on mute. She stared at the ceiling fan praying it would lure her to sleep.
If only she could be so lucky.
Chapter Thirty-eight
Johnnie lay haphazardly on the old green sofa in her studio. She flicked a wet brush with her thumb while staring out the window. The day should be dreary, dark, brooding. But that was just the way she felt inside. No, the world outside was bright and sunny. Everyone having a grand old time.
She grimaced and tossed the brush. She crossed her bare feet along the top of the couch and placed her hands behind her head. Her eyes grew heavy, as they often did lately. She didn’t fight it, knowing it would lead to a land of laudanum, a numb, pleasant land of Elaine. Often times, she’d sit and stare for hours, in a half stupor, just thinking of her or staring at the paintings of her. She’d sold some, but the one where she had that look, the one that wanted Johnnie, she’d kept that one. And the one where she was touching her broken heart, she’d kept that one as well. She’d wanted to bring them home, but Gail wouldn’t allow it. In fact, Gail kept turning them to face the wall.
Johnnie laughed a little at her ridiculousness. Nothing could erase Elaine. Not now, not ever. But Gail was possessive, and for some reason she wanted Johnnie back. It was a mystery to Johnnie, but she just assumed she was flat broke and waiting for the next free ride to Costa Rica or someplace similar. She had a lover there. And they were volatile, on and off. At the moment they must be off. Johnnie wished she cared, but she just really didn’t give a damn.
She was still painting, but she had slowed dramatically. Her friend Jimmy was just grateful she still had enough for his show. Commission requests were still coming in, and Johnnie tried; most of them were easy. But her heart wasn’t in it, and her new friend Ian had noticed, offering to give her a good kick in the arse. She’d go to his house and they’d drink a few pints and paint. She was really enjoying her newfound love for abstract. At Ian’s she didn’t even pick up a brush. It was all palette knife, and it made her feel free, fierce, fiery. He often commented on the sound of her strokes and her breathing. He knew she was working shit out when she painted at his house.
He just laughed and encouraged her. Told her the only thing worse than a woman was the paint. It was an addiction, a desire, a fucking menace, and it would drive you mad whether you put it to canvas, wall, or nowhere at all. A woman could walk in and out of your life, but the paint, it would always be there, waiting for you to do something with it.
Johnnie eyed her phone as it vibrated. It was Jolene. She could always feel when Johnnie was off. And she’d been bugging her since Gail had been back. Jolene did not care for her by any sense of the word. She found her fake. And that was not a good thing at all when Jolene said it. No, she wanted Johnnie to go up north to her brother’s house to sit and sweat all these issues out. Johnnie had been putting her off, too depressed and lethargic to even consider it.
The doorbell chimed, and she didn’t bother to look over.
“Don’t get up. It’s only me,” Gail said, coming over to sit, placing Johnnie’s legs atop her.
“Don’t worry. I won’t.”
Gail rolled her eyes. “Why are you so depressing? God, you’re so negative it’s driving me crazy.”
Johnnie didn’t bother to look at her. “Then go.”
“I will.”
“Good.”
“I’m serious, Johnnie. You’re really a downer.”
Johnnie didn’t answer. She just stared at the wall. She could smell Gail’s lotion, and it stirred things in her whether she wanted them too or not.
“I’m sorry about Elaine or whoever, but she’s just not for you. She’d doesn’t love you like I do. No one does.” She took her hand and tried to sound sincere. But Johnnie was learning her moves, her technique. She said all the right things. She even seemed to mean them. But it was only skin deep. Inside, who knew what she was thinking? How to get what she wanted, how to get ahead, how to outplay the person…who knew? But it wasn’t love. It wasn’t caring. It wasn’t sincerity.
Yet Johnnie was putting up with it and playing along in a way, while feeling her out in return. What else did she have to do? Elaine didn’t want her, and as far as she wa
s concerned, Elaine was the one. And when the one walks away, nothing else seems to matter. You go on, one foot in front of the other, but you’re not really awake. You’re a zombie with a mechanical heart, it beating whether you want it to or not. Besides, what if Gail was right? What if Elaine couldn’t really love her with her past and her issues? How badly would that hurt to fall for her to have something and then to have her jump ship because she didn’t have the capacity to love unconditionally? Or worse, what if they had something and it terrified Johnnie…leaving her to fear Elaine would wise up at any moment and walk away, turning her back on her? Like her own family had?
She grabbed her head. It was all too much. It was just easier not to care, to ignore if she could. But the thoughts and the images were a constant barrage, like a bad film stuck on the reel.
“What is it, baby? Your head hurt?”
“No.” She sat up and stroked Gail’s face. Gail moved a little as if uncomfortable. She looked into her eyes. “Tell me how you feel about me,” Johnnie said softly. She leaned against the couch and relaxed. If Gail loved her, she’d be able to tell.
But Gail looked away and laughed nervously. “What is this?”
“Come on, talk to me.”
“I tell you all the time.”
“But not like this. This is intimacy.” This was what she had with Elaine. Gail looked at her, eyes full of fear.
Johnnie raised her eyebrows, waiting. She stroked her face again, and Gail caught her hand.
“This is seriously freaking me out,” she said.
Johnnie didn’t move as Gail rose and went to the fridge and pretended to be thirsty. “Want something?”
“No.” She sighed. “Can you come back please?”
Gail opened the water and drank. “Babe, you know I love you. But that closeness crap makes me feel trapped or something.”
“You can’t sit here and look in my eyes?”
Gail laughed. “Can’t we just forget it?”
Johnnie felt the hair on her neck stand up like she did when she sensed a person with untruthful energy. Someone that wasn’t authentic. A predator. She sometimes felt it with Gail, but Gail always covered.