by Bonnie Dee
I looked at the card, then into dark eyes, which gazed unblinking into mine. “This isn’t that far out of my way. And I don’t plan to break our date.”
He smiled, and lines crinkled the corners of his eyes and grooved deep into each cheek. It was impossible not to return that smile, even while a logical voice in my mind demanded to know what I was doing getting involved with someone as complicated as Jason.
Chapter Six
Over the next week, it was as if I had a girlfriend. Anna sent me texts. I hadn’t received texts from anybody but my family in the entire time I’d had the phone. She asked how my day was going or told me about something cute her puppy had done, and each random line was like finding gold to me. I couldn’t wrap my mind around somebody as successful and pretty as Anna being interested in me, but I was going to ride this crazy train as long as the trip lasted.
Saturday morning, bright and early, my mom called to remind me of Dad’s birthday party that afternoon.
“I have it written down,” I said. “I’ll be there.”
“I know. I don’t want you to think I don’t trust you, but—”
“It’s okay.”
I couldn’t blame her for not counting on my memory, because she was right—I’d been so caught up in thoughts of Anna and our date that evening, I had forgotten the big birthday bash. I’d also forgotten my promise to take Katie to that movie she wanted to see. She’d hate me if I postponed, but I didn’t see how I could fit everything into one day.
“Aunt Ginnie and Uncle Steve are going to be in town. And Kyle and his family,” Mom said. “You haven’t seen some of your cousins in years. But they’re family, and it’s important for all of us to get together once in a while.”
“Okay.” I watched a cockroach stroll across my kitchen floor. I’d given up trying to exterminate them, figuring if I didn’t leave a single crumb for them to snack on, they’d eventually move out and surrender the apartment to me.
“Jason, there are going to be a lot of people. I know you don’t do well with crowds. If you start feeling too stressed, you should practice your relaxation exercises. Maybe you should take some of your antianxiety meds.”
“I will.” I gritted my teeth, swallowing the knot of tension her soothing tone provoked in me.
“Katie said you two plan to go to a movie after the party. I don’t know if that’s a good idea. You have out-of-town relatives you should spend time with. Besides, I don’t want you to overextend yourself.”
“I promised Katie. We’re going.”
“Fine. It’s your decision.” She drew a breath, and I interrupted before she could give me more instructions.
“I’ve got to go, Mom. I’ll see you around one.”
I hung up, already calculating how few hours I could get away with being there. It wasn’t as if I didn’t want to celebrate Dad’s birthday, but socializing with a boatload of relatives was going to be stressful. Every look of pity was a paper cut. Add enough of them together and I felt pretty flayed by the end of a gathering.
Katie would be as anxious as me to get out of there. A late-afternoon matinee was a perfect excuse to cut things short, and I’d have plenty of time after the movie to get ready for my date with Anna at eight o’clock.
Everything was under control.
Seeing the Connecticut relatives was like meeting strangers. I didn’t remember them from before the accident. No surprise, since we’d only gotten together about every other year. My cousin Kyle, several years older than me, was apparently successful in every way. He had a medical practice, a wife and baby and a country home they’d just bought. He kept showing photos of the new house to everyone, while his wife, Marcy or Mary rattled off details about square footage and acreage. I looked at the photos and said how great the place was.
Kyle lowered his voice, confidential and concerned. “How are you doing, Jason? You getting along all right?”
“I’m fine.”
“You know, there’ve been some amazing advances in brain-injury recovery. Just the other day I was reading in JAMA about a new electromagnetic pulse therapy.”
I bit my tongue and listened to my general-practitioner cousin ramble on as if he knew more than the specialists I’d been to, who’d told me there was no technology to regenerate the damaged neural pathways in my brain. No quick fix.
At last I couldn’t take Kyle’s well-meaning advice anymore. “I’ve got to help my mom in the kitchen.”
I escaped the crowd of people in our backyard and sighed with relief when I reached the cool and quiet living room. I flopped down on the couch.
“You hiding out too?” My dad’s voice startled me.
He stood silhouetted against the window with a cup of beer in hand, looking out at the party. “Your mom’s sweet to throw this shindig for me, but—”
“It’s not your thing.”
He walked over and sat in his armchair. “It’s important to her, and I guess it’s nice to see everybody. Maybe just not all at once.”
“I hear you.” I smiled at him. “Anyway, happy birthday.”
“Thanks.” He sipped from his cup. “Hard to wrap my mind around a number like fifty-five. I suppose sixty will be even harder. The years slip by fucking fast.”
My eyes widened. I’d rarely heard a “damn” or “shit” from my father. “I guess they do.”
He squinted at me, and I realized he’d had more than a couple of beers. “Remember that. Don’t let time slip away. You had a close call once already. Make the rest of your life count.”
“Um, okay.” I reached out, and he passed the plastic cup to me. I finished the beer for him.
“I have a date tonight,” I blurted, wanting to let him know I wasn’t letting life pass me by.
“Really? That’s great!” he exclaimed. “Who is she?”
“Somebody I met at work. She’s a lawyer.” Damn, that sounded like I was bragging. Well, maybe I was a little. “Her name’s Anna. We went out for coffee once, but this is our first official date.”
“Good for you.” He smiled, and suddenly I saw him as more than just “Dad.” His hairline was receding, lines creasing his face, but underneath was a guy who was shocked by the middle-aged man he saw in the mirror. I could imagine the guy my mom had fallen in love with in college. I saw their life together mapped out in photos and memories and two kids. And I appreciated what a gift it was to have parents who had not only stayed together but still seemed to love each other.
“Let’s get back to your party before Mom starts freaking out.” I dragged myself off the couch and offered a hand to help him from his chair. Then I gave him a quick hug. “Love you, Dad.”
He squeezed the breath out of me with his strong embrace. “Love you too, son. If you’d talk to your Uncle Steve and keep him away from me, that’d be the best birthday present you could give me. I can’t stand that guy.”
“Deal, if you do the same for me with Kyle.”
By the time Katie and I said our good-byes and extricated ourselves from the party, I had a headache that pulsed with every beat of my heart. The pain stretched from my temples, down my neck. The right side of my body felt like I’d tried and failed to run a marathon. Too much tension made my old injuries flare up.
I would’ve begged off going to the movie with Katie, but she was already chattering about how great the special effects were supposed to be. I couldn’t disappoint her. Besides, I figured I could grab a nap in the dark theater.
Unfortunately, because neither Katie nor I can drive, when I “took her” someplace, it actually meant Mom or Dad had to give us a ride. Dad would have been happy to escape his party and drop us at the nearest megaplex at the edge of the city, twenty minutes away, but one of the younger cousins volunteered so he wouldn’t have to leave.
During the drive, I tried to listen to Katie’s story about some mean girls at school and their list of crimes, but I kept zoning out and letting her words wash over me like so much white noise.
“Are
you even listening?” Katie demanded.
I turned toward her scowling face. Were twelve-year-old girls ever happy? “Cassie sucks. T.J. is even worse. And Deb stole the guy you like.”
Her frown relaxed. “That’s right. So anyway…”
My mind drifted to thoughts of Anna, who’d sent a text confirming she’d meet me at eight. She’d offered to pick me up at my apartment, but there was no way I wanted her there. Bad enough she’d seen the dilapidated building when she gave me a ride home the other night.
Katie and the female cousin whose name I couldn’t remember chatted about school and then about the Bloodsuckers sequel until we arrived at the theater.
“Wish I was going with you guys. I hear this is a good one,” the cousin said before she drove away.
“How long did you say the movie was?” I asked Katie as we walked into the theater.
“I don’t know. A couple of hours.”
I calculated the time it would take for me to catch a bus from here back to my side of the city and then to the club where I was supposed to meet Anna. “I won’t be able to stay with you until Mom or Dad comes to pick you up. Can you wait by yourself?”
She rolled her eyes. “Of course. I’m not an infant. But why? What do you have to do that’s so important?”
“A date?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “No shit. With who?”
It didn’t help my self-confidence that two of my family members seemed shocked by the idea of me managing to land a date. “Just somebody I met.”
“Hah! I knew it,” she crowed.
“What?”
“That you’d be back to your old self eventually. You were always a player. The only steady girl you ever had was Chrissy, and you managed to screw that up.”
“Why? What happened?” I’d almost forgotten about meeting Lisa and uncovering another piece of my past.
“I don’t know. You probably cheated on her. Anyway, you two broke up. I liked her too. She was nice to me. Gave me fingernail polish one time.”
My mind scurried like a confused mouse in a maze. Thoughts of Anna, Chrissy, my cousin Kyle, and my dad careened into one another, jagged little bits of thought that wouldn’t settle into place. I badly needed rest, but the movie theater wasn’t the place for it. Bloodsuckers was not a restful movie—stretches of whispered conversation and suspense music were punctuated by loud action scenes. I kept dozing off, then jerking awake. When the movie wasn’t startling me, Katie would with a punch in the arm.
“You’re missing it! Berrien is about to ascend to the vampire throne. Watch!”
By the end of the two-hour-plus blood-and-gore fest, my head was aching worse than ever and my thoughts were as scattered as a flock of birds frightened by a shotgun blast.
Katie was all smiles as we left the theater. “Did you like it? It was even better than the first two. Thanks for going with me.”
“It was a lot of fun.”
She looked at me. “You look like crap. You should take a nap or something before you go on your date.”
Great advice, but the movie had gone long, and now I had no time.
I gave Katie a hug, then walked to the nearest stop and waited for my bus. I’d studied the routes to make sure it would take me where I needed to go. I was dozing on the bench when the bus arrived and nearly missed it. With no time left to go home and change, I went straight to the Jukebox Joint to meet Anna.
A couple of transfers along the way added extra time, plus I missed one of my stops and had to backtrack. Before I reached the club, Anna texted to ask if I was still coming.
Running late. Sorry. I added, Had to wait with little sis for her ride home. That should earn points with her.
After I got off the bus, I struggled to figure out whether I needed to walk east or west to get to the place. Just as I started to head one way, I heard my name called from behind me. I turned and saw Anna heading toward me, her hair golden under the streetlights and a smile lighting her face. My growing anxiety eased.
“Hey,” she greeted me. “I thought I should meet you at the bus stop. The club is kind of hard to find.”
Had she noticed me walking the wrong direction? She must have. But anyone going to a new place might get turned around.
“Sorry I’m late. I promised to take my sister Katie to the new Bloodsuckers movie, and I couldn’t get out of it.”
“Any good?” She stood a few feet from me, and a hint of her perfume wafted to my nose.
“Loud and long. I used to love that kind of action flick, but not anymore.”
“Me either. A lot of flash and no substance. I don’t mind an action movie if it’s got a great plot and characters I can care about, but just to watch a bunch of special effects and cardboard-cutout characters—nuh-uh.”
She looped her arm through mine, a casual gesture that felt very date-like. My heart beat a little faster.
“I hope you like this place,” she said. “The music’s good, and I love the styles some of the serious rockabilly types wear. Skinny ties and fifties jackets. Big skirts with crinolines. Very cool.”
“Am I dressed all right?” I looked down at my standard T-shirt and jeans. I’m not very imaginative when it comes to clothes.
Her eyes scanned me slowly from head to toe, searing my skin. “You look fine to me. Roll a pack of cigarettes in your shirtsleeve and slick your hair into a duck tail, and you’ll fit right in.”
I blinked.
“Kidding! Come on.” She escorted me through a doorway above which Jukebox Joint flickered in hot pink neon letters.
****
If I’d known more about Jason’s disability and the signs when he’s overstressed, I would’ve realized immediately he was too exhausted to go out that night. But at the time, I didn’t know much about his issues, like how crowded places are sometimes more than he can handle, and breaks from his usual routine are hard for him to adjust to. I didn’t know he’d already had a full day at his dad’s birthday party dealing with a bunch of relatives, or that he had a raging headache and a sore hip. He didn’t tell me.
That evening, I was simply excited to turn him on to the music and dancing at this club I’d discovered shortly after moving to Columbus. I thought I was just dragging a rather shy guy out of his comfort zone and making sure he had a really fun time.
The dance floor was already jammed when we arrived. Couples two-stepped to a slower number. When the band really got wailing, they’d be jitterbugging like it was 1955.
I glanced at Jason to see his reaction to the scene. His eyes flicked around, taking in guys with pompadours and shiny lapels, women in bright red lipstick and matching red high heels, skirts whirling around them.
I yelled over the music, “Cool, huh?”
He nodded.
“Want a drink?”
We pushed our way to the bar. Along the way, I introduced Jason to a few people I knew by name. We stood in line for quite a while before we were served, and by the time we found a free table, I noticed Jason’s limp was more pronounced than usual. He sank onto the chair.
I leaned over the table. “You doing okay? You seem kind of tired.”
“No. This is great. They’re amazing.” He indicated the dancers whirling around the floor.
My feet were itching to join in, my heel tapping along with the beat.
“Can you dance like that?” he asked.
“I’m okay. The great thing about this place is that you don’t have to be experienced. There are newbies and professionals all mixed together. It’s a lot of fun.” I glanced at his right leg, which stuck straight out beneath the table. “Do you think you’d like to try a slow number? Nothing fancy.”
“Maybe in a bit.” He sipped his drink.
I looked at the dance floor and wondered if I should’ve picked someplace else for our date.
A guy I vaguely knew suddenly grabbed my hand and pulled me up from my seat. I looked over my shoulder at Jason and gave him a helpless shrug before the guy twirled m
e onto the crowded floor. I’d be back at the table after one dance. It wasn’t as if I was abandoning Jason for the night.
My partner was way out of my league. As he spun me in and threw me out, at one point even tossing me up into the air, it was all I could do to keep up. By the end of the number, I was gasping for breath and grinning. I’d forgotten how much fun this was. After spending too much time in my apartment recently, it felt good to be out dancing.
I started to make my way back to my table and Jason, but he wasn’t there. I figured he’d gone to the restroom, so I decided another dance couldn’t hurt. This time I joined several women. We twisted and shimmied and sang along with the chorus of a song we knew.
When it ended, I checked on Jason—still not back in his seat. It occurred to me he might have been more annoyed by my ditching him to dance with some other guy than he’d appeared. I didn’t see his dark shock of hair anywhere in the room, so I grabbed a guy heading into the men’s room and asked him to see if my friend was in there. I waited outside, impatience growing, until the man emerged.
“Some guy’s puking in one of the stalls. Could be your date,” he said.
Great. Thanks for your concern. I pushed through the door and into the stink of the restroom. Luckily, nobody was at the urinals. The sound of retching came from behind a stall door.
“Um, Jason?”
There was a long pause. “Yeah.”
“Are you okay?”
The toilet flushed, and the door opened. Jason stepped out, face pale, dark hair matted to his damp forehead. He went to the sink, rinsed out his mouth and splashed water on his face.
I handed him paper towels. “You’re sick.” I stated the obvious.
“Naw. I get these migraines sometimes. It’s nothing.”
“Well, you need to go home and lie down.”
“I’ll be okay now.” He looked at me with those somber eyes. “I don’t want to cancel our date.”