The Good Life

by Beau, Jodie

  “Since you’re the one who doesn’t want this,” he said, “I’d really appreciate it if you stopped throwing yourself at me. Or on me.”

  I laughed, knowing he was only messing with me, and he smiled back.

  I tried to get up again and this time he let me.

  “Rain check?” he called out as I walked out of the kitchen.

  Jake spent a lot of time at the party behind the bar making the martinis. You’d think he’d hate making drinks when he wasn’t at work, but he loved it. I could tell he had a lot of fun. I could also tell things hadn’t changed much since I’d worked at The Bar. A few girls he worked with showed up, and every single one of them flirted shamelessly with him. What is it about someone else wanting something that made me want it even more?

  Allison’s in-laws picked up the kids at about nine. That was when the real party started. Jake’s martinis were a bit too tasty because I’m pretty sure I had at least two too many. By the time everyone left around 2am, I had enough liquid courage in me to do something I’d been meaning to do for a while.

  “Jake,” I whispered.

  He was gathering the alcohol from the bar to bring back in the house. “Yeah?” he whispered back.

  “I have a really good idea.”

  “What’s that?”

  “We should go skinny-dipping in someone else’s pool.”

  “Why can’t we just skinny-dip in our own pool?”

  “Because that’s boring.”

  “Whose pool should we use?”

  “I was thinking the neighbor with the two boys would be a good one. You know how much she loves skinny-dipping.”

  He smiled and nodded. “You’re right. That does sound like a great idea.”

  “I’ll go get us some towels.”

  Jake and I walked next door in nothing but our towels. In my head, I had imagined a quiet, romantic game of cat and mouse, with steam coming from the water and maybe a kiss or two. But Jake ran into their backyard, threw his towel to the wind and did a cannonball into the deep end. I laughed hysterically as I tended to do when I was drunk. I barely had time to jump in before I saw a light come on in one of the second floor windows. We both scrambled to get out of the pool and grabbed our towels before we took off running.

  We didn’t get busted by the neighbor, but were not so lucky when it came to being busted by Adam. He was putting food away in the kitchen when we came barging in, dripping from head to toe and wearing nothing but towels.

  “Seriously?” he said. “What is with you two? You’re acting like teenagers!”

  That made us laugh even harder.

  It was approaching three, but I didn’t feel tired yet. I was on a roll with my GLL Challenges and didn’t feel like stopping.

  “I think I’m gonna go dry off, put on my pajamas and sleep outside tonight,” I told them (GLL Challenge #19 – Sleep outside overnight). “It’s so nice out. You guys wanna come with me? The fire is still going and we could make s’mores.”

  “I have to get some sleep,” Adam said. “I have to be back at work by ten.”

  I looked at Jake. A sober me would have known that inviting Jake to spend the night with me wasn’t a good idea, but the non-sober me was very naughty and had a habit of putting her hands up in the air and saying, “I just don’t give a fuck.” It’s the reason I didn’t drink often.

  “I don’t know if I want to sleep outside,” he said. “But I’ll make s’mores with you.”

  I’m not sure what all happened after that, but I woke up to the sound of the alarm on my cell phone going off at 6am. I must have set it to wake me up in time to watch the sunrise, GLL Challenge #14.

  I was on one of the chaise lounges by the pool. I didn’t know who did it, either me or Jake, but one of us had pulled another chair right up against mine and that was where Jake was starting to wake up from the sound of my alarm. We were both covered up by a quilt my mom had made years ago.

  “What happened?” I asked him. I felt very groggy after only two hours of sleep and I thought I might still be a little drunk, too. I noticed a bottle of water and a bottle of Tylenol sitting on the plastic end table next to my chair. Thank you, Magic Hangover Genie. I swallowed two pills and handed both bottles to Jake, who gladly accepted them.

  “Nothing,” he told me. “You passed out as soon as you sat down.” He took two pills and then stretched his arms and neck.

  “I thought you didn’t want to sleep outside.”

  “I wasn’t gonna leave you out here by yourself.”

  “Did you bring the blanket?”

  He nodded.

  “And the water and pills?”

  He nodded again.

  “Oh,” was all I said. Sometimes it was hard to believe anyone could be as nice as Jake. I knew bringing a blanket to a sleeping person was something a lot of people would have done, but having been with a man who wasn’t very nice to me for so long, I just wasn’t used to it. But I could definitely get used to it. “Thanks.”

  “No big deal.”

  “Want to watch the sunrise with me before we go inside?” I asked.

  “I know a place where can get a better view,” he said. “Let’s go for a ride.”

  We grabbed the blanket and got into his Jeep. I knew where we were going, but I acted surprised when he pulled into my lot, our lot, with not a minute to spare.

  I tucked my legs under me, covered us both up with the quilt, and leaned my head on his shoulder from the passenger seat. As we watched the stars vanish and the pink sun light up the sky, I truly realized how deeply I’d missed him these last few years. It felt more important than ever that I didn’t lose him as my friend. I wanted to tell him then how much I’d missed him and how glad I was that he was a part of my life again. I should have. But I didn’t.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  A few days later I slept until 11am like the slacker I was. I did what I did every morning (or afternoon) when I woke up. I went downstairs for coffee. But when I walked into the kitchen I nearly screamed out loud.

  There was a girl in the kitchen. She had her back to me and was standing on her tiptoes on one of our barstools, reaching into the top shelf of a cupboard. She had long, dark, wavy hair and was wearing what looked like a men’s light blue button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and no pants. Either she was wearing no underwear at all, or she had on a thong because her bare butt cheeks were sticking out from under the shirt. From the back she was perfection. It was as if a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader was standing in my kitchen.

  She turned to look at me when she heard me come in and when she did, the front of her shirt opened to reveal some side-boob. No, she was not wearing a bra under her shirt. And yes, her face was just as perfect as her butt. Lucky bitch.

  “Hi!” she said in a way-too-perky voice. She probably really was a cheerleader. “You must be Adam’s little sister!”

  Being called a “little sister” by someone who was probably a decade younger than me was a bit condescending and annoying, but I was so glad she was with my brother and not Jake that I let her comment slide and breathed a big sigh of relief. Not that I wanted to see my brother’s sexual conquests naked in my kitchen and, trust me, he would hear about it later, but it was a billion times better than seeing Jake’s sexual conquests, even if they were fully dressed in ugly, baggy clothes with dirty hair and no makeup. Because even that would suck. Seeing that Jake hooked up with a girl this hot in the same house where I was sleeping a bedroom away, would kill me. Just because I had stopped our sequel from happening, didn’t mean I was ready to see him with someone else.

  “Jake’s told me so much about you!” she continued as she hopped off the stool (she was wearing a thong – thank you, God!) and held out her hand, which opened the shirt even more and revealed her perfectly perky C-cups.

  Before I even knew what was happening, Jake stood up from behind the kitchen island and set his camera down on it.

  “Good morning, Rox,” he said, smiling like
nothing was wrong with this scenario at all, “Or is it afternoon yet?”

  I was so confused. Why was there a mostly naked girl in my kitchen? Where was my brother? Why was Jake hiding behind the island? What did I walk in on? Who the hell was this girl?

  “I’m Carmen, by the way,” Miss Perky-In-Every-Way said, as if she read my mind.

  Carmen! Carmen was the girl Adam asked Jake about that one night! Carmen must be one of Jake’s flings – one that began way before I arrived in Michigan and was apparently still going on.

  I knew I wasn’t Jake’s girlfriend, but I never imagined I was merely a fling within a fling!

  I’m so stupid! What was I thinking getting involved with him again? He’s still the same different-DNA-on-the-sheets-every-week guy he’s always been. I can’t believe I was so effing stupid to think he ever cared about me!

  I knew all along things would not end well. Jake was a dead-end road! He didn’t do relationships. I was never going to be anything more to him than a convenient live-in lay so it was a good thing I put an end to it. Ugh, why do I have to be so stupid sometimes?

  I didn’t say anything in the kitchen. I was speechless. I kept looking from one to the other, waiting for some logical explanation that had nothing to do with sex – an explanation I knew would not be coming, because there was no other explanation for this.

  As irrational and childish as it was, I had the urge to pick up his camera and smash it on the floor. I wanted to throw something, and break something, and hurt something he cared about it because I felt so hurt inside.

  I didn’t shake the hand she held out. She eventually dropped it and used it to close her shirt. Then she also looked back and forth between Jake and me. She looked confused. I bet.

  Confrontations were not my style. Even if I could’ve assembled some comprehensive thoughts and formed complete sentences at that time (and I couldn’t), I wouldn’t have started anything with either of them. As I turned around and walked out of the kitchen, I held my chin high, so as not to look like the desolate loser I felt like.

  Once I was out of the kitchen and safe from their view, I ran up the stairs, into my room and closed the door before the tears began to fall.

  Why did I ever think it was a good idea to come here? I was looking for a fresh start but all I did was move backwards! I’ve been here a month, and I’m no closer to a so-called better life than I was when I got here. I have no job, no life, and no purpose. I’m like a waste of space on the couch. In fact, if Jake and Adam threw a piece of leather over me, I could BE the couch!

  I’d only met with Violet twice, but didn’t seem to be making a difference to her since she had just been caught stealing lip-gloss from CVS. I couldn’t go to school for another year. I was too embarrassed to get a job because the only job I knew how to do was one that I was ashamed of. I never saw my brother because of his work. My BFF had a life of her own. And the cherry on top of this shit-sundae was that I’d had sex – unprotected sex – with the biggest player in Ann Arbor who had just made a fool of me in my own house! One thing I probably had was an STD. One thing I definitely did not have was a future here in Ann Arbor, and there was no reason for me to be here. No reason at all.

  I pulled a weekender bag out of my closet and started mindlessly throwing things into it as tears fell freely down my face and burned my cheeks. As much as I would love to go back home to NYC, I knew I couldn’t afford it. There was only one place I could think to go – Florida. Maybe my dad could pull some strings and get me a late acceptance into the MSW program at his school … if they even had an MSW program. I knew my parents would let me stay at their condo until I could get on my feet and get my own place. I wouldn’t mind being a barmaid on a beach. For some reason, serving drinks on a beach seemed a lot more sophisticated and respectable than serving drinks to a bunch of drunk and arrogant college kids in Ann Arbor. Yes, I could totally do this. I could move and get a real fresh start, not just an opportunity to remake mistakes all over again. Not a re-do, but a clean slate.

  “Rox?” Jake tapped on the door.

  No. He couldn’t see me crying. He couldn’t know how hurt I was about the cheerleader in the kitchen. I couldn’t let him see how much I cared. He could never know. I took a deep breath and tried to keep my voice steady.

  “I can’t talk right now, Jake,” I said. “I’m not dressed.”

  “It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before.”

  Don’t remind me, asshole! What a jerk thing to say right now!

  I took another deep breath to keep my voice from wavering. “Please get away from my room, Jake. I do not wish to speak with you.”

  “You do not wish to speak with me?” he mocked me. “Why are you talking like a robot? Are you okay? You know that wasn’t what it looked like.”

  If I wasn’t so upset I would have laughed out loud at that overused line. “I’m fine,” I said in my calm robot voice. “Please let me be alone right now.”

  I didn’t hear anything else after that so I figured he’d gone downstairs. I stayed in my room packing, crying, sniffling, and texting Hope and Allison, who both said I should talk to him before I moved to another state.

  Once I was all cried out and had a full set of luggage packed, I went into the bathroom to put some cold water on my eyes and apply some makeup so it wouldn’t look like I’d been crying.

  When I felt composed enough, I held my head high and went downstairs. I didn’t know if Jake was around, but I was going to have to take my chances because I needed coffee even more after all of that crying.

  The kitchen was empty – score! I walked over to the Keurig and pushed the power button. It whirred to life as I selected a K-cup of blueberry-flavored coffee from our carousel and stuck it in the machine. I thought I was in the clear, but as I was getting the coffee creamer from the fridge, Jake came in from the patio carrying his laptop under his arm.

  I ignored him and continued with my coffee. He set the laptop on the island and flipped open the screen.

  “It’s not what you think,” he said quickly.

  I stirred my coffee, still ignoring him. I looked up at the ceiling to avoid any tears from escaping. I still felt extra sensitive.

  “I was just taking pictures,” he explained. “She’s engaged. She wanted to have some pictures taken to give to her husband on their wedding night. She wanted some pics taken in a kitchen and asked if we could do them here because she liked our bar stools and the glass cabinets.”

  I put the creamer back in the fridge and avoided his eyes.

  “Here, I have them on my laptop if you want to see. I should have told you, but I just wasn’t thinking, and that was stupid of me.”

  I picked up the coffee mug and took a quick, nonchalant glance at the thumbnail photos on his screen that Jake had clearly taken while lying on the floor. Looking at her perfect butt and her coy smile as she glanced over her shoulder, ugh, it made me want to throw up.

  I tried to exit the kitchen, but he stepped in front of me and blocked the door.

  “I’m sorry, Roxie. I mean it.”

  I looked at the floor to avoid his eyes. I wasn’t ignoring him to be a brat. I was worried that if I tried to talk, my voice would crack, and the last thing I wanted was to stand there and cry in front of him.

  “Hey,” he said, his voice soothing. He rubbed my arms just under my shoulders. It felt comforting and his voice was caring and kind. His apology was genuine. Damn him! “What’s happening?” he asked. “Why are you so upset? I told you it was nothing, and that’s the truth.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said, trying hard to keep my voice steady. “You can do whatever you want.”

  “I know I can do whatever I want, but I’m not going to bring some girl home a couple of days after you slept in my bed. That would be a dick move and you have to know I have more respect for you than that.”

  I did know that. And his story made sense. He really was taking pictures of her. Why else would she be reaching into
the top shelf of our cupboard? There wasn’t anything up there but some Tupperware from like 1985. But sometimes when I get really mad, I don’t want to stop being mad, so I find more reasons to stay mad. Does anyone else do that? Or is it just me?

  “My brother asked you about Carmen,” I said quietly. “When he heard us upstairs. He asked you if Carmen was over.”

  Jake let out a long sigh, walked into the living room and sat down on the couch. I sat down, too, curious to hear the rest of this story.

  “You’re right,” he started. “There was a time a while back when her and her boyfriend broke up and she came over after work a few times. But now they are back together and I am not at all interested in her.”

  I thought about this ridiculous scenario for a few moments before I spoke.

  “So she wants to give her husband, on their wedding night, a bunch of pictures of her that were taken by some guy she hooked up with when they were broken up?”

  “Hey, I never said she was the brightest crayon in the box. That’s why there’s no way I could ever seriously date her. But she paid me like everyone else; the shots I took of her are going to add a lot of value to my portfolio because she has a great body, and the prints she orders are going to make me even more money.So I really don’t care what she does with the pictures.”

  As another woman, I was able to see through her façade more so than Jake. She was probably trying to seduce him, and I doubted if she even had a fiancé, but it wasn’t really my problem anymore. I’d be moving out anyway.

  “Do you forgive me?” he asked.

  “You’re forgiven. But I think we both know this roommate situation isn’t going to work out. We can’t be having conversations like this every time one of us brings a date home.”

  “You’re right. We should probably just keep having sex with each other then. And that way we wouldn’t need to bring dates home, and we’d never have a conversation like this again.” He gave me a cocky, but hopeful, grin as he waited my response.