It's Complicated

by Julia Kent

  He put his glasses back on and read over the documents carefully. Josie knew to occupy her mind—if it took forty-five minutes, Gian would sit there and take forty-five minutes. His meticulous nature, right here right now, was playing into exactly what she hoped. She wasn’t setting herself up for disappointment, though. She was resigned to failure this first time, but, if nothing else, she’d plant a seed of doubt in Gian’s mind and get him to at least think about it.

  To her surprise, he snapped the folder shut and looked up within about ten minutes. “I see the trend—but we need more data.”

  “Are you kidding me?” she said. “That’s not enough?”

  “Nope. I’d say we need at least six months more.”

  “Six months! Some of these people don’t have six months. Some of these families don’t have six months.”

  “I’m not at all unaware of that.”

  “Oh, that’s a lovely bureaucratic reply. ‘We’re sorry that your father is slipping into incontinence and doesn’t remember his middle child but we’re not unaware of that,’” she said with a snarky affect. Rage started to fill her, thinking about Ed and his confusion. How he was starting to confuse his daughters for each other and how he’d mistaken her, at one point, for one of them.

  “I can’t jeopardize the funding, Josie.”

  “Funding?”

  “Funding.”

  She began to play angrily with the little Dungeons and Dragons figures and a set of magic dice that Gian had sprinkled across the front of his desk.

  “Isn’t there an ethics aspect to this for human trials, Gian,” she said sharply, “that supersedes funding?” Her anger was coming out and as the tension in the back of her neck got worse it started to blind her, her eyes seeing everything through a lace curtain. Rage roiled up through her veins, spiriting into her fingertips, down her spine into her coccyx, and then dividing in two, running down her legs into her toes.

  This was the range of options. If she hadn’t had that conversation with Laura, Dylan, and Mike, if they hadn’t offered her the opportunity to start this crazy business, if she didn’t know damn well deep inside herself that she was right and that those people were in jeopardy by being forced to stay in the control group, then she wouldn’t say what she was about to say.

  “Look, you can snap at me,” he said dispassionately. “It’s not going to change anything.”

  “I know that.” She stood and got right in his face, bending down, mustering as much intimidation as she could, which wasn’t hard given her fury. She shoved her finger right in his face, making him flinch and pull back. “You get this straight Gian—I’m coming in to this office every fucking day until you convene a committee to look over what I’ve gathered. You know as well as I know that there’s a point in any research trial with human beings where if it is a detriment to continue the trial when it’s known, when it’s known through data analysis, that the drug is so beneficial that it would be detrimental to keep it from the control group, that the research study can be broken. I am telling you—look at that data because I think it’s time we do that.”

  “You’re going to be in my fucking office every day if I don’t do what you want?” Oh, now the real Gian was coming out. He had a mouth too. Josie could respect that.

  “I’m telling you I’m going to be in your office every fucking day.”

  “Then would you mind bringing me a Starbucks?”

  “Do you want it poured over your head or your crotch, Gian? Because then yes, I’ll bring you a Starbucks.”

  “I’d like it in a cup.” He turned away and began tapping on his computer. “I suppose now I need to make sure I wear one.” He glanced nervously at his crotch. “If you’re done, I’m going to write an email now.”

  “All right, Gian. See you tomorrow,” she said, storming out.

  It wasn’t until she hit the stairwell that the shakes sank in. She’d left the folder on his desk, but she had five other copies back in her office, ready to deploy every day. There was one thing that her mom had told her over the years. “You are a persistent little shit, aren’t you?” Marlene used to say. Josie had taken pride in it—it's what got her out of Peters, what got her through Daddy’s death, and what got her to make the decision that—yes.

  Yes.

  If she was a persistent little shit then maybe she could persist in letting herself be in charge of her own life.

  She slid her phone out of her pocket and dialed Laura’s number.

  Josie couldn’t stop thinking about all of the ways that the day had gone wrong. First, she had tried to be clever and helpful, but it turned out all she really could be was stupid. While it didn’t surprise her that all she could manage was sheer stupidity, and a breathtaking level of stupidity at that, it caught her by surprise. Trying to convince Gian was a gesture of good professionalism and compassion, right? She was trying to be helpful, right? And yet, in the end, as was so often true for her, all the good intentions had brought was more chaos.

  And pain. A pain that she had caused, too. No way around that one, she thought. Annoyingly real and torturously resonant, the pain of knowing that by trying to do the right thing she had only hurt so many others was the kind of stupidity she wished she could bang out of herself, one blow at the time, by flinging her body onto the jagged rocks at the bottom of a cliff.

  While that might be satisfying to some of the people in her life, Josie knew that she would have to settle for self abuse of the mind, a never-ending stream of thoughts that dominated her twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week, an ongoing reminder of the failure of the heart.

  Wait a minute, she told herself. Not fair! Some tiny shred of mercy flittered through her mind. The failure of the heart? That seemed harsh. She was a big girl, and could accept that she had screwed up. But flogging herself, and not loving herself enough to forgive, though, would hurt everyone, especially her. It was bad enough that so many people were in pain. She didn’t need to add the complete annihilation of self-worth to the mess.

  Someday, when Alex was ready, she would reach out and try to explain why she had acted the way she had. For now, though, space and time were the only medicine that would help to heal anyone. For two high-level medical professionals that seemed like a weak remedy, indeed.

  Dusting off her bruised ego, Josie took a deep breath. There were one million things she wanted to say to Alex, but instead she would have to focus on so many other things in her life.

  Like quitting her job.

  Laura had made a generous offer to her, to open and manage a very different kind of company. It was time to take the offer seriously.

  And besides it would help to deal with some of her own pain, pain that went far beyond the self-abuse her little inner critic was so judiciously dishing out, licking its chops as it figured out what to do with this tsunami of guilt. Everyone knows the only way to escape a tidal wave is to outrun it, right? And to get a good head start before it really comes.

  Josie would do just that.

  Picking up her smartphone, Josie dialed Laura’s number. The phone rang four times before she heard Laura’s voice, followed by the loud scream of a baby.

  “Hello?” Laura’s frantic voice answered. The sound of a baby’s sharp cry pierced the air, and it ended quickly, with a muffled mewling that left Josie confused.

  “Laura?”

  “Yeah, Josie? Hang on, I’m just latching Jill on.” Aha! That was what was going on. Josie paused for a few seconds to think about what Laura’s life must be like right now. She had become so engrossed in her own new relationship that she hadn’t given much thought to what Laura was going through with this new identity change. Plus, the physical changes must be overwhelming.

  “Okay. Whew. She’s on. What’s up?”

  “Is that offer still open?”

  The grin on Laura’s face could be heard through the phone. “Sure is! I was just looking into real estate, in fact.”

  “If I’m supposed to run the place, should
n’t I be the one looking for the office?” she said in an over-the-top, officious tone.

  “Yes, boss!” Laura sighed, the sound of relief clear. “Let’s meet later today at Jeddy’s. I’ll bring Jillian and the guys and we can hash out the basics.”

  Indecision washed over her. This was too real, suddenly. “I haven’t accepted. Just want to explore my options.”

  A groan from Laura. “Does that include exploring Alex, too?”

  “I don’t want to talk about him.”

  “Too bad. I do.” Steel ran through her words. This was not the softer, insecure Laura. When had she become so demanding?

  “You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t talk about!” There wasn’t any real conviction in Josie’s voice.

  “Yes, I can. I am attached at the nipple to an eight-pound vampire and sleep with two men who are walking zombies these days and who can’t find two nights a week to bother with sex. It’s your turn to dish about your sex life.”

  “Fine, I’ll talk about air fucking aaaaaall you want.”

  “Air fucking?” Laura sputtered. “Is that like mime sex?”

  Josie covered her face with her hands and dropped the phone; she was laughing that hard. Scrambling to retrieve the phone as Laura called out to her, she finally got it in hand, and with great, whooping gasps choked out, “It is exactly like mime sex.”

  “What fun is that if you can’t scream when you come?” Laura said, an indignant tone in her voice.

  Fuuuuccckk. Josie went blind with laughter.

  “Meet us at four at Jeddy’s tomorrow, Josie. You’re crazy.” Some mumbling came over the phone, and then a soft pout of disgust. “And the baby just shat all the way up her back and into her hair.”

  Ewwww. “That is quite an accomplishment,” Josie said, snorting. Her abs hurt from giggling.

  “Gotta go! We’ll talk about air fucking later!”

  “I’m waiting with bated breath.” Click.

  As if Darla were channeling her, the phone rang with her name on it.

  The sounds coming from her phone were like alien communications, high pitched and screechy. “I can’t believe I did this and they left!” was the best Josie could understand.

  “Whoa! Darla. Slow down. What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Her voice went into that deadly calm she got during emergencies. Made her a damn fine nurse.

  “Not physically.”

  “Who left?”

  “Joe and Trevor.”

  “The guys from Random Acts of Crazy?”

  No answer. What was going on?

  “Darla? You there?” Her voice was firm again. Oh, shit.

  “Yes. And yes, the guys from the band.”

  “They went home?”

  “Yep.” Darla began to sob, wracking sounds that made Josie’s heart hurt.

  “What happened? Are you okay? What did they do?” Her voice trailed off, concern coming through loud and clear.

  “They up and left me alone here at the truck-stop hotel,” Darla bellowed.

  “They wha—” As if chopped off with an ax, her voice just stopped cold. “They left you.”

  “They.”

  “They?”

  “They—yes, they. It’s a fucking word, Josie. It means two or more people.”

  “MORE?” The pain in Josie’s heart turned to a thumping shock.

  “No. Not more. Just they as in two guys.”

  “And you…?”

  “We. Yes.”

  Whoosh. Josie pulled the phone away from her ear and let all the air in her lungs go out in one big stream of holy shit. Managing one man was hard enough—why were the two women closest to her suddenly handling two? Was there a message here?

  A light bulb went on.

  “Oh, honey,” Josie said. “Do you want a job?”

  “A job?”

  “I’ve always told you that if you want to move out here you can, Darla. But you always said you needed a job along with a place to live. I’m changing jobs and can hire someone to work as my office assistant, and I’m offering it to you. The whole shebang—a place to stay and a job. What do you say?”

  Josie held her breath. This was the first time Darla hadn’t snapped a negative answer when begged to move out to Boston. Maybe, just maybe…

  “And I know you’ll claim you can’t leave Aunt Cathy, but you know that’s just a chickenshit excuse you’ve been using for years to avoid changing your life. You’re too timid, Darla. You need to take more chances.”

  Too much silence. Darla must have been wavering, which meant there was a chance. Time to put on the thumbscrews. “Hint: The correct response is a breathy ‘OMIGOD AUNT JOSIE YOU ARE THE BEST.’” She made a derisive snorting noise. “Not this silent, pensive shit.”

  “What’s the catch?”

  “No catch. Just start when you come out here, maybe in a week or two?”

  “So what’s the company?”

  Shit. How was Josie supposed to explain?

  “Josie?”

  “It’s not pole dancing.”

  “Well, thank goodness, because the only pole I dance on is—”

  “Too much information, Darla Josephine. TMI.”

  “You’re not really giving me enough details to leap and leave behind my entire life, you know.”

  Another snort. “I’m going to guess that right now you’re either getting ready to go work at the gas station where the highlight of your day will be changing the urinal cake in the men’s room, or you’re trying to find a way to keep wiring the cable line from your neighbor so your mom can watch Pawn Stars again.”

  “When you put it that way,” Darla said through gritted teeth, “it’s kind of hard to say no. But you have to give me something. What does this company do?”

  Buying time, Josie tried to think of how to say this. But then again, maybe not. If Darla was impulsive enough to jump into bed with two guys from her favorite band, surely she wouldn’t care about working for a ménage dating service.

  Right?

  Finally, she said in a controlled, professional voice, “Let’s just say you’re a perfect match for the job.”

  “Okay, Aunt Josie,” she said. “You got a deal. Give me a week or two and I’ll be out there.”

  Squeeee! “Darla Jo, it’s the best decision you’ve ever made.”

  “I’ve made some whoppers.”

  “Yes, you have, and this one’s not one of them.”

  This must be what adults feel like, Josie thought as she walked in the front door of Jeddy’s to find Madge waving a half-friendly “hello” and Laura, Dylan, Mike, and baby Jill already settled in a large booth, coffee cups in front of the adults with Jillian nestled in Laura’s lap, attached to one breast discreetly.

  The walk from the entrance to the booth where her friends had settled in felt transformative, like some sort of vision quest that took place through a ratty old diner with torn vinyl seats and scratched stainless steel grills. Each step felt like one more gravid foot closer to being expected to act in a more mature manner, to managing relationships with friends, with godchildren, with… what could she call Madge, exactly? Her not boyfriend’s grandfather’s girlfriend? There had to be a word for that, right? Whatever it was, she wasn’t mature enough—yet—to figure it out.

  The pity party she’d indulged in for the past month faded as she strode closer to the group. Instead of feeling alienated and like a fourth wheel—a fifth, now that she thought about it, with the baby here. A fleeting thought went through her mind like a ribbon unfurling: These are my people. I belong here.

  And she did.

  She brought to the group a sense of sarcastic fun, a jauntiness that Dylan, she supposed, was closest in delivering. Lately, though, her main contribution was to hold the baby so that Laura could go to the bathroom alone while the guys developed bags under the bags under their eyes—all three so sleep deprived in a way that Josie could barely identify with. Maybe it was something like working double shifts, back to back, in the e
arly days after getting her nurse’s license when money was tighter and student loan payments nearly crushed her.

  Smart enough to know that that wasn’t a good analogy, she realized that she didn’t have to have something comparable in her life, something that she could measure against their experience to feel as if she had a tiny sliver of involvement or understanding. Instead, she chalked up their exhaustion to something she couldn’t fathom and wondered if there would ever be a time when she’d want to nurture a little nine pound thing so much that she would let it rule her world.

  “Where’s Alex?” Laura asked, her face hopeful and bright.

  The scowl that Josie shot back made Laura’s grin turn quickly into a frown, a melting of her features that made Josie feel a pang of guilt, as if she’d hurt Laura herself. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  Dylan muttered something unintelligible to Mike, and if looks could wither, she had just turned him into a desiccated raisin.

  “I hope everything is okay,” he said, and then, again, she had to feel something, a halting within herself where everything that she assumed had to be rolled back.

  She squared her shoulders and reminded herself that no one here was judging her. “It’s all, well… it’s not good,” she said, “but it’s not bad. I just don’t want to talk about him right now.” Not in front of your happy family, she thought. “I do want to talk about the business.”

  “Yes,” Mike said, swigging back the final bit of coffee in his cup and banging it down on the tabletop just enough like Thor to make the corners of Josie’s mouth pop up. “Let’s talk about the business. How do you want to structure it?”

  Josie and Laura exchanged a look. “I thought we’d figured that all out,” Laura said.

  “Maybe you two figured all that out,” Dylan added, finishing his coffee off and looking around for Madge as if she held the only life preserver on the Titanic, “but Mike and I have no idea what you two are planning.”

  “You guys didn’t talk about it?” she asked Laura.