I would have to shit or get off the pot, so to say.
Or just lie and keep hanging around.
I put the guitar down as Jess walked toward me.
“I’m serious about that song,” she said. “I would love to help.”
You’re not fucking changing the song I wrote for Rose…
I swallowed the words and grabbed Jess’s wrist and pulled her toward me. She crashed to my lap, fitting so nicely, throwing her arms around my neck.
The kiss was implied and instant.
She tasted like a fruity vodka drink. Something cherry.
She touched my face, only ever using her fingers and never digging her nails into me.
“That was a great show,” she said to me. “They loved you.”
“They didn’t watch me,” I said with a grin.
“Foster…”
“I don’t give a shit, sweetheart. I’m just happy to play. Drink. Get some cash.”
“Don’t forget the best part,” Jess whispered.
“Oh?” I asked, raising my eyebrow.
Jess stood up and walked to the door. She shut it and found a metal folding chair and jammed it under the doorknob.
She turned and lifted the bottom of her shirt up and over her head.
I let out a breath as I grinned.
“A rock star’s gotta get laid after a show,” she whispered.
Reaching back she unclipped her bra.
She climbed back onto my lap and gently thrust her chest at my face.
I groaned and shut my eyes.
I tasted her skin but it wasn’t…
Hey Rose, where are you right now?
31
Come On… You Have No Choice
Rose
My phone rang right at midnight. And then five minutes later. Normally getting woken up like that would irritate me, but it was my father and my sister calling to wish me a happy birthday. That was actually the best part of my birthday because I had to work the entire day and night. The schedule got messed up at work and I was working both the lunch and dinner shift. A double on my birthday. I didn’t treat my birthday like other people I knew. It wasn’t all that big of a deal for me. Just another year gone. Another year older. Yeah, this time I was now legally allowed to buy a drink. That was the big thing. Which was sort of funny to me because people got excited about their twenty-first birthday, when most had already had plenty to drink in their life.
When my shift ended, my manager had everyone sing happy birthday to me and I had a beer. So my entire birthday came and went without going out or someone buying me a drink.
I got home around two and slept until noon.
The day after my birthday was supposed to be a little quieter.
I shared a crammed apartment with two other women. The three of us in the apartment was our only way of getting off campus. Starting college, all we wanted was to be on campus. But that life got old really quickly. There was such a big difference between boys, men, and assholes, that it was worth the hassle to work, save, and find a way to get an apartment. My roommates promised me drinks as my birthday present. So on top of working, my entire birthday came and went without even a single gift. Unless you counted the beer my manager gave me at the end of my shift.
Again, it was just another year gone by.
It wasn’t like when I was younger though. Really young when my mother would do something big. Or when she’d always chase me down at seven-forty-two in the evening to hug me, because that was the time I was born. One time, I was playing soccer and she stopped practice so she could hug me. I was embarrassed then, but would have given anything for her to be there now to do it.
And then there were other birthdays. When someone was able to capture the day in a way I never thought possible. Even if it was short lived, he was the only one that left me feeling like the most important person in the world.
Even though it was after noon, I sipped my morning coffee and relaxed. The apartment was empty, which meant it was quiet. That was good. Both Becca and Karly had gone to class. And judging by the wildly scheduled whiteboard calendar on the fridge, they would be gone until tomorrow because tonight was some kind of high school girls’ night thing. Which was good. I could use the place to myself for once.
Or so I thought.
When I heard the knock at the door, I cringed. With any luck it would be someone looking for Becca or Karly and I could just usher them away.
Instead, I opened the door to my sister standing there holding a large bouquet of flowers with a heart balloon that read HAPPY BIRTHDAY on it.
“Happy birthday,” Vivian said.
I took the flowers from my sister. “Thanks, Viv. You came here for this?”
“Nope. I came to have a great day,” she said in a strange voice.
Next thing I knew, she had a card in her hand and had some birthday thing where you pulled a string and confetti exploded. The pop! scared the crap out of me. Confetti flew at my face as Vivian cracked up laughing.
I wasn’t laughing though.
“The flowers were enough,” I said.
“Come on,” Vivian said. “I couldn’t get off work yesterday. I know you worked yesterday. So let’s have some sister time.”
“I just woke up,” I said. “So this is technically my breakfast.”
“Okay,” she said. “Breakfast it is. Where’s your favorite breakfast place? And what do you want?”
“Viv…”
“Today is on me,” she said. “We’re doing some breakfast. And then anything you want. Topping it off with a late dinner and some drinks. I owe you a drink.”
“It’ll be my first,” I said with a grin.
“Bullshit.”
“My first legal drink,” I corrected.
“There you go,” Vivian said. “I brought extra clothes to stay the night, or maybe we’ll both find some hunks to play with.”
“Ew.”
“Ew?” Vivian asked, raising an eyebrow. “You don’t like guys?”
“I like guys. Just… hunks…”
Vivian was then inside the apartment. She insisted that I tell her where to get breakfast. There was a great little greasy place about four blocks from the apartment. I mentioned the name and gave her the basic paper menu and she called to order food.
This was supposed to be my day off. To be quiet. To relax.
Instead, I had Vivian ready to party the day away.
And that was only the beginning.
Vivian spent two hours in the bathroom. That was no surprise to me. I grew up with it. She would get up at five in the morning to start getting ready for school. Everything had to be a certain way. Look a certain way. Everything matching. There were times when I wanted to bust on her for it, but a long time ago, Vivian confessed that making herself look pretty helped to hide the hurt of losing Mom. That she started wearing makeup to be hidden from what happened.
Me, I was simple. I had a favorite pair of jeans. I had a favorite shirt. Hair was hair and tonight I pulled it back and used whatever hair tie I could find in a random drawer in the bathroom. My lipstick was lip gloss. My eyes were my eyes. And that was that. I was not going out to look for hunks like Vivian had suggested. The good part was that she only lived about twenty minutes away. So if she did find herself a hunk, she could disappear and do her thing. Then I could come back home and do my thing. Which was crash into my comfy bed and sleep.
That was my plan but spending time with Vivian meant there was no plan. Ever.
She came out of the bathroom and did a twirl. “How do I look?”
“Beautiful,” I said. “How do I look?”
“Beautiful,” Vivian said with a smile.
“Hey. Do you really want to go out?”
“What? Why?”
“I mean, we could order something and get a bottle of wine. Watch all kinds of cheesy romance movies and get drunk.”
“You don’t want to go out?”
I shrugged my shoulders.
&n
bsp; “Rose,” Vivian said. “You have to go out once in a while. What are you afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid.”
“You haven’t had a real drink yet since turning twenty-one,” she said. “I promise, no craziness with shots and stuff. We’ll just go out and have some fun. I miss you. I want to talk to you.”
“What about the hunks?” I teased.
“They’ll be waiting for me.”
“Confident, huh?”
“Have you seen me?”
I laughed as I climbed to my feet.
Vivian hooked her arm into mine and we were out for the night. I trusted that she would have everything taken care of with rides and know better than to drink too much and try to drive herself or me around.
There were fifty places to go right near the apartment, but Vivian decided to go closer to home. There she chose a little corner dive bar. Definitely not the type of place I could imagine her going, but I wasn’t going to argue. Hidden and quiet was a good thing.
We got inside and went right to the bar. We skipped over the tables with wobbly legs and booths that were ripped with ugly yellow foam coming out of the seats like puss.
Vivian reached right across the bar and got the bartender’s attention. It was a woman named Shayna. She went to school with Vivian but I hardly knew her. Her reputation was more known than she was.
“I know I’m a liar,” Vivian said to me as Shayna grabbed two shot glasses. “But it’s your birthday.”
“Yesterday was my birthday.”
“Your birthday week then.”
“Viv…”
“Just one,” she said. “I have to drive anyway. So just one.”
“Fine,” I said.
Two shots of vodka were poured.
“On me,” Shayna said. “Happy birthday, Rose.”
I smiled and thanked Shayna as though we were old friends.
“I love you, sis,” Vivian said. “Here’s to a great year and a great life.”
We clanked the little glasses together and took the shot. It was smooth with a big kick at the end. I cringed and frowned as the burn ripped through my throat and down to my stomach.
Luckily, Shayna was there to save the day with two draft beers.
“Hey,” I said to Vivian. “Why did you choose this place?”
“Honestly… not sure if you know this story… but Mom used to come here.”
“What?”
Vivian nodded. “When she would work third shift. I don’t know if you remember her working. She was a nurse.”
“I know that.”
“She would work third shift and sometimes a few of them would come here for a breakfast drink. I remember her and Dad joking about it.”
“Really?” I asked, smiling.
“I think it started out as a fun thing, but then it… well, they came here when they had rough nights. When they lost patients and stuff.”
“Oh,” I said.
“I don’t know, it’s something little and dumb,” Vivian said. “But it’s just a way I feel connected to her. She sat somewhere in this bar. You know? She touched the seats. The bar. The glasses. Looked at the TV. I…”
I reached for Vivian’s arm and squeezed. “I know. I get it. Thank you for bringing me here, Viv. I didn’t know she came here.”
“Now you do,” she said.
The night turned a little somber. I slid off my seat and wrapped an arm around her. I pulled her close and realized it was her turn to be sad. Just like we did when we were kids. I swallowed the lump in my throat and let Viv have her moment.
She broke away from me and looked up as she wiped the corners of her eyes. “Shit. This is why we need hunks.”
“Well, you look gothic right now,” I said. “Or a pretty raccoon.”
“Thanks,” Vivian said. “I needed that.”
Vivian sucked in a breath and cleared her throat.
I rubbed her back and then sat back down.
“I didn’t bring you here so we could cry,” she said.
“To be fair, you’re the only one crying.”
“Bitch,” Vivian said.
“Just saying…”
“I’m going to go to the bathroom and clean myself up.”
“I’m going to sit right here and wait for you to get back,” I said.
“Good.” Vivian stood up. “Don’t get into trouble.”
We both laughed.
There was no trouble to get into.
But a minute or so later, as I tried to take a sip of my drink, I heard a laugh that sent chills through my entire body.
Slowly, I turned my head.
I blinked fast, unsure of what I was seeing.
It was… him.
Then something else happened.
He looked right at me.
Our eyes locked.
And I whispered a name I hadn’t whispered in a long time…
“Foster.”
32
Long Time Coming
Foster
“I just want to talk to her and figure out what’s next,” Jess said as I drove. “This could be something. Or nothing. I can’t just sit around and wait.”
The drama of the band was getting old. Jess and her bassist, Megan, were having a little meeting to talk about the music. The decision was to add a drummer or just go acoustic. Two women with acoustic guitars. I offered to get behind a drum kit but Jess insisted on it being an all-girl thing.
She had been sneaking nips of whiskey all afternoon and was already half tuned up by the time we got into the bar that Megan picked to meet at. I knew the place. I used to sneak through the back and steal beers when I was teenager. A few times, when I got ballsy enough, I took a bottle of booze. I got caught once by the owner at the time, an old guy named Miles who had such a thick accent that I couldn’t be sure where he was from. He appeared from nowhere with a lit cigarette between his lips. His hands were tiny, but the grip was the strongest thing I’d ever felt when he grabbed the back of my neck. He squeezed so hard I lost my breath and dropped the bottle of rum. It shattered on the ground and he told me I had one day to bring money for it.
Believe me, I hustled my ass off to make sure I showed up with twenty bucks the following day.
Miles took the cash and poured me a shot. We buried the hatchet and I never went back there again.
Well, at least not until he died and the bar was sold.
Megan was in a booth waiting for us and I started to regret being there. But I had no choice. I didn’t want Jess trying to drive herself around after all those sips of booze. Not to mention the second she sat down, she ordered a round of drinks for all of us.
“Let’s get right to it,” Jess said. “We have to decide what’s happening next.”
Megan looked at her and I knew this was either going to be a sob fest or an argument. I truthfully just wanted out of it all. The booth. The bar. The town. This thing with Jess.
“What do you want?” Megan asked.
“Music,” Jess said. “We used to be so good.”
Megan inched forward and touched the now empty shot glass in front of Jess. “This took over.”
“What?”
“You know what.”
“Oh, I’m the one who drinks too much?”
“Hey,” I cut in. “Just figure it out. You want to play, then play. Why not book a few gigs with just you two? See how it flows. Talking is cheap. So fucking cheap. You both know that.”
“So he’s your lawyer now?” Megan asked.
“No,” Jess said. “He supports me. He loves me.”
I cringed. I felt uncomfortable.
“I’ve been there before,” I said. “That’s all. I’d hate to see you two just talking and not getting anything done.”
“Fine,” Megan said. “You bring your hot boyfriend and I look like a bitch.”
“Hardly,” I said.
“You are pretty hot,” Jess said. “Maybe we should just get out of here right now. The three of us.”
>
That wild blood ran thick in Jess. It was once fun, but now a chore. She kept telling me she loved me, only when she was drunk. The more I didn’t say it back to her, the crazier she would get with the bedroom stuff.
I bit my tongue a little as Megan reached into her bag and took out a notebook.
“We’re writing?” Jess asked.
“Let’s do it,” Megan said.
“I like this idea,” I said. “Get something down and then you can start putting music to it.”
“With your help,” Jess said. She grabbed my arm and pulled at me. She kissed my cheek and then flicked her tongue at my ear.
I moved my head without looking too pissed off about it.
“So, what’s the story,” I said, pointing to the notebook. “What kind of story do you want to tell?”
“Drinks,” Jess said with a giggle.
“Of course,” Megan said. She rolled her eyes.
I thought for a second and came up with an idea to save the night.
“Compare a guy to a drink,” I said. “Pick your favorite drink and your favorite kind of guy and write a song.”
“You’re my whiskey, Foster,” Jess said. “I’m so fucking hooked I can’t stop drinking.”
“How cute,” Megan said.
“Go with that,” I said. I got Jess’s attention on the notebook again. “That’s good.”
“How about some stale beer?” Megan asked. “They’re the guys I get. They look good and foamy and then you sip them and it’s skunk piss.”
I laughed. “Well, you could go that route. Become an angry chick band.”
“Hey, whatever gets us playing,” Jess said.
Her voice was starting to really slur. Gessisplayin…
I felt like someone was looking at me.
I glanced over my shoulder and couldn’t believe the set of eyes that locked onto mine.
Jess put her hand to my leg and without thinking I tossed it away like she meant nothing. Because she did mean nothing. There was only one person that meant something.
That one person was staring at me.
“Rose,” I whispered as I put my elbows to the bar. I waved a hand for the bartender. Shayna. I remembered her from high school. She definitely remembered me.
Let You Go Page 21