The Good Life

by Beau, Jodie

To be honest, that sounded like a super idea. But how long would it last before he decided he was bored with me and traded me in for another one of his cheerleaders?

  “Or,” I said, “I could just call it a loss and move down to Florida with my parents.”

  “Are you serious?” he asked quietly. His silly smirk was gone.

  I nodded. “I’ve already packed.”

  He took a deep breath. Then he stood up and shook his head at me. “You’re seriously going to run away again? God, that is so like you. I don’t even know why I’m surprised.”

  I stood up, defensively. “What do you mean run away again? When did I run away before?”

  “How about going to North Carolina instead of going to school in Michigan? Your hockey player boyfriend humiliated you, so you ran away.”

  “I applied to UNC before that even happened!” It was true. I had. I might have chosen the school afterward, but I had already applied.

  “And why’d you move back here? Because you were running from your problems in New York.”

  “NO!” I shouted. “I wanted to stay in New York! I just couldn’t afford it!”

  “So you came here? To Ann Arbor? It might not be New York City, but it’s definitely not cheap to live here. Try again.”

  “It’s a lot cheaper than New York. And why wouldn’t I come here? When something bad happens to a person, they’re going to go to the people who love them for support.”

  “So what are you running from this time then?”

  “I’m not running! I’m fixing a mistake I made.”

  “What was the mistake?”

  “Moving here!”

  “Why was it a mistake?”

  I sat back down on the couch and studied the fibers in the living room carpet. “You guys,” I said quietly, “you, Adam, Allison – you all have your own lives, and I need to find a life of my own, too. There isn’t anything here for me. There’s no school that will take me on such short notice, and there’s no job I can get where I won’t be serving people who are going to look down on me. All I do is watch TV, drink wine and lay out in the sun. That’s not normal.”

  “What are you going to do in Florida that’s so much better?”

  I couldn’t really think of a good answer. If there was any way to start my Master’s sooner that would be a good reason to go, but I should probably find out for sure if that could happen before I moved over 2000 miles away.

  Jake sat down next to me again. He seemed calmer, less agitated. “I agree that you need to get a job; if not for money then just to get out of the house. But there are things for you here. You’ve got that little sister to keep out of trouble. You promised you’d take Allison’s kids to Cedar Point. I can even get you your old job back at The Bar. You used to make tons of money there.”

  “That’s a nice offer, Jake, but there’s so many people I know that go in there. I don’t think I could handle having them laughing at me.”

  “Yeah, there are people we went to high school with who go in there, but they are just regular people with regular jobs. It’s not like they are all millionaires or anything. You’re the one who’s been living in some penthouse suite in New York all this time. You’re the one with a bedroom full of shoes that are probably worth more money than I’ve made in my entire life. No one is going to look down on you for having a job, and it’s ridiculous that you even think that.”

  “It wasn’t the penthouse,” I mumbled.

  He stood up. I could tell he was angry again.

  “And you know?” he asked, as he paced in front of me. “It really pisses me off that you think working in a bar is so shameful. I work in a bar, Roxie. Does that mean you look down on me?” He stopped pacing, stood in front of me and pointed at his chest. “No, wait. Don’t answer that question. Of course you do. That’s why you left me and got engaged to some rich asshole a week later.”

  I gasped and looked up at him. Was that the way he saw it? Was that what he’d been thinking all this time? That I was ashamed of him for being a bartender? That I married Caleb for money? Is he right?

  I touched my cheek because it felt like I’d been slapped, even though he hadn’t touched me. And since I was still in an uber-sensitive mood after crying all morning, that was all it took to get the tears behind my eyes again. I blinked away what I could, but there was really no way to hide them this time.

  “Never mind,” he said. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “I wasn’t ashamed of you,” I said quietly.

  “That shit doesn’t even matter anymore.”

  “It seems like it kind of does, or you wouldn’t have said it.”

  He sat down next to me again and looked at me seriously. “Look, staying and trying to make this work for you, that’s nothing to be ashamed of. Running away after barely giving it a chance, that’s a reason for people to look down on you. That’s something to be ashamed of. But you go ahead and leave if you want. I’ve gotten used to it.”

  And with that, he left the room. A few minutes later I watched through the bay window as his Jeep pulled away from the house.

  Jake’s comments gave me a lot to think about, but I didn’t have the time to think about them at the moment because I was supposed to meet Violet for our afternoon outing in an hour, and I looked like a train wreck.

  I ran upstairs and washed my face again, put on some of my Benefit Eye Bright again and took another chance on mascara – except I used waterproof.

  I wasn’t in the right mood to be trying to encourage or inspire anyone, but I told her I’d be there today, so I was going to be there.

  I was sitting on a park bench, lacing up my roller skates, when her grandma dropped her off in the parking lot. When Violet told me she liked to roller skate, I’d been super excited about it because I hadn’t done it since I was a kid. I had to buy myself a pair of roller skates but I bought them at a discount sporting goods store instead of an expensive designer. At least one thing about my life seemed to be changing for the better, eh?

  Violet got out of her grandma’s car and headed toward me with a surly look on her face. Don’t tell anyone, but I kind of wished I had gotten a younger little sister, one who was too young for attitude problems and backtalk. I could tell by the look on her face that she wasn’t happy to be there. She’d rather be hanging out with her hoodlum friends and stealing makeup from drug stores. Maybe I didn’t have to feel guilty for not particularly wanting to be there either.

  She was a pretty girl, with her thick brown ponytail, big blue eyes and petite frame, but she wore way too much makeup for anyone to tell. Also, attitude was worth a lot more than a pretty face, and she had a serious problem in that department.

  As her grandma’s car pulled away from the park, Violet turned and held up her middle fingers on both hands towards the car like she was some kind of gangsta. She sat down next to me on the park bench, looked at her watch and said, “One hour. Starting now.”

  Umm, okay. I was suddenly kind of scared.

  She had the kind of skates that attached to the bottom of her shoes. Once she had them on she stood up and said, “Come on, lady. I’ll race you to the concession stand.”

  I was still fuming over being called lady as she raced off like some kind of speed skater. I wasn’t foolish enough to try to beat her so I skated over at a slower pace that was just fast enough to keep my eye on her in case she tried sneaking off. By the time I made it to the concession stand, she was literally skating circles around the small building, and I was clutching my sides in pain. I needed to work out more!

  She laughed when she saw me. “I was going to say we should get an ice cream, but it doesn’t look like you need one,” she said with a smirk.

  Was she calling me fat? That little bitch! I was too out of breath to reply, and for that I was lucky, or I might have been banned from the BBBSA forever.

  She giggled, and her eyes danced as she skated around me. I was still trying to catch my breath.

  “Water,” I gaspe
d. I sat down at one of the picnic tables and pulled a plastic Victoria’s Secret Pink water bottle out of my bag. It was gigantic. It didn’t fit in the cup holders of my car or any piece of exercise equipment in our basement. It took up practically all of the space in my bag and I needed two hands to drink from it. But it was a free gift with purchase, and it was cute and girly, and said Drink Pink on it, so how could I resist?

  Violet laughed even harder. She sat down across from me at the picnic table. “You need some help with that?” she asked snidely.

  What is this girl’s problem today?

  She pulled a water bottle out of her backpack. It was yellow and had a smiley face on it.

  “You couldn’t find one with a frown?” I asked.

  For a second, she looked pissed that I had given her some of her own crap. Then she smiled and I could tell she appreciated it.

  “What’s this I hear about you stealing lip gloss from CVS?” I asked her.

  She shrugged. “I stole lip gloss from CVS.”

  “I heard. But I don’t understand why you did it. Your grandma told me she gave you twenty dollars, and the lip gloss was only like three dollars.”

  “It wasn’t about the money,” she said. “It was about the thrill.”

  “You think getting arrested is thrilling? You think having to go to court and possibly being sent to a juvenile jail is thrilling? You think your grandma having to pay your fines and court costs is thrilling?”

  “No,” she said seriously. “Not that stuff. I really do feel bad about the fines.”

  “You should. Especially since she was nice enough to give you money to shop. A lot of kids your age don’t get an allowance.”

  “I know,” she agreed. “None of my friends ever have money. That’s why they steal.”

  “Did they know that you had money that day?”

  She shook her head.

  “Why didn’t you tell them that you didn’t need to steal makeup? That you could buy it?”

  She shrugged and looked at the ground. “I don’t know. I guess I wanted them to like me. To think I was brave.”

  Oh dear … she reminded me so much of myself for saying that.

  “Violet,” I started off cautiously. “Being a follower is not brave. It’s weak. The brave person would be the one who said to all her friends, ‘Hey, we have enough makeup and stealing is for losers. Let’s take my allowance and get a pizza instead.’”

  She shook her head. “You don’t understand,” she told me. “There are two kinds of people at my school – rich ones and poor ones. I’m like the only one in the middle. I can’t pretend to be rich but I can pretend to be poor.”

  “I understand wanting to fit in. But stealing doesn’t make you poor; it makes you a criminal. You really have to stop worrying about what people think before it takes over your life, and you don’t even remember who you really are anymore.”

  She snorted. “That’s great coming from you.”

  I was shocked at her audacity. “What do you mean?”

  “Look at you with your Kate Spade bag and your Victoria’s Secret water bottle that probably weighs fifteen pounds. You didn’t bring that to the park because it’s a practical way to stay hydrated while you’re roller skating. You brought it because other people would see it and think to themselves, oh how cute is that? I wish I had a water bottle like her.”

  Hmm … she might have a point. I could have easily brought a plain looking and easier to carry water bottle with me. I guess today is the day for everyone to call me out on my character flaws.

  “And,” she continued, “didn’t you tell me last week that you didn’t want to get a job at the bar you used to work at because you were afraid people you knew would see you working there and think you were a failure?”

  Umm, yes I did say that.

  “Yeah,” I said quietly. “And you don’t want to end up like me when you’re older.”

  “Maybe not,” she said honestly. “But I would like to have a Kate Spade bag someday.”

  We both laughed. I pulled some things out of my bag. I took out my wallet, my gigantic water bottle and my keys. I left the expensive mascara and lip-gloss inside and handed her the bag.

  “Here,” I said. “You can have it.”

  She looked stunned. “Really?”

  “Sure,” I told her. “I have enough bags.”

  “Wow,” she said as she put the shoulder strap over her arm and stared down at it in awe. “That’s really nice. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” I told her.

  “I can either use it to fit in with the rich kids or tell the poor kids I stole it,” she explained. “Either way, it’ll give me some clout.”

  I smiled and said a silent prayer. Thank God it wasn’t my Chloe bag.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  After my visit with Violet I started replaying the argument with Jake and thinking about all of the things he said. What was that crap about me choosing Caleb over him because of money? That may be how it looked to Jake, but that was not how it went down. Caleb came from an upper-middle class family. They had more than some but it took almost everything they had to put him through school. There were times in the beginning of our marriage when I didn’t even have quarters for the laundry machines. Jake was way wrong. I wasn’t a gold-digger!

  He wasn’t wrong about everything he said though. When I started thinking back, he was right about me running away. That day I’d caught Skank Queen in bed with Riley, I ran off to CMU instead of facing my friends at his birthday party that night. Originally I had only applied to UNC because I liked their school colors (I know, I know; I tend to make decisions for very random reasons), but when I got my admission letter shortly after Riley’s birthday I accepted because I didn’t want to go to U of M where most of my classmates were going, just to deal with the same looks of pity every day. I wanted to go where no one would know about my rise and fall in the high school hierarchy game. I thought, to hell with Riley and his homies. And I left. I guess I did run away.

  When I found out about Destiny’s child, I ran to Jake to keep my mind off it.

  When Caleb told me he wanted a divorce, the first thing I did was run off to the beach only to run even farther to Michigan.

  I went for one job interview, saw someone I didn’t want to see and basically gave up job searching all together.

  Jake was right! I had been running. Every time things didn’t go my way, I left. Even if it was just going to the mall, I always left to find a distraction. And poor Jake, he’d basically been the distraction a number of times. It was like I’d been using him, and he didn’t deserve that. He deserved someone who wanted to be with him always, even when times were great, not just when they’d been dumped. It suddenly occurred to me that I was a total jerk. All this time I’d been using him and abusing him, and he’d let me do it. I didn’t know why he’d put up with it all this time, but I made a promise to myself that it was going to stop.

  I had to stop running. I needed to face the fact that I hit the bottom and start climbing my way back up. I would get my job back at The Bar. The summers weren’t as busy, but during the school year I could easily make several hundred a night, and if someone wanted to think I was a loser for that, screw them. I couldn’t tell Violet to stop worrying about what people thought if I wasn’t going to take my own advice.

  I picked up my phone to call Jake, to thank him for pointing out a huge problem and to tell him about my new attitude. That was when I saw I had a missed call from my lawyer.

  I called Jake twice and he didn’t answer. That was fine. He had to come home eventually, and I’d be waiting for him when he did. I knew he wasn’t bartending since it was a weeknight, so I figured he’d be home when he was done making his statement.

  I had thrown some pulled pork in the slow cooker before I left for the park. I mastered the pork butt while I was at UNC. They call it “barbeque” down in North Carolina, just barbeque. Once that was ready, I “pulled” the pork and shr
edded carrots and cabbage for the cole slaw.

  I spent the evening unpacking the bags I’d haphazardly packed that morning and repacking them in a neater way. I brought them downstairs and put them by the back door when I was done so they’d be ready to grab when I left in the morning.

  And then I waited … a long time. I was watching Chelsea Lately in the living room when I finally heard his Jeep pull into the driveway. I got up and went into the kitchen to greet him at the back door. I felt like jumping into his arms and wrapping my legs around his waist like I’d seen people do in photos a lot but never in real life. But he wasn’t alone. My brother walked in behind him.

  Oh yeah. They were friends after all. I guess they would hang out together every once in awhile. But this really wasn’t something I wanted to talk about in front of my brother so that meant I had to wait until Adam went to sleep. Oh well. At least he didn’t walk in the door with Carmen or some other shooter girl with perfect legs.

  “I made some barbeque,” I told them. “And homemade slaw.”

  “Fantastic!” Adam said and grabbed a plate right away.

  Jake looked less enthusiastic, but even a guy who is mad at you doesn’t turn down food. Throughout getting his plate, filling it up and eating, he avoided my eyes the entire time. I didn’t like it. Not one bit. He was making me angrier every second. And the strangest thing about it was that I wanted him more the madder I got.

  I told them I was going to bed, but I really just wanted to get away so I could wait for Jake to come upstairs and ambush him. That doesn’t sound totally stalker-esque does it?

  I played some apps on my Kindle while I waited. Grrr … hurry the hell up already!

  Finally, FINALLY, I heard a beep on my phone.

  JAKE: Are you awake?

  Just seeing his name made my stomach feel like I was going downhill on a roller coaster.

  ME: Yes

  JAKE: Can I come in?

  ME: Of course

  I got out of bed and opened the door so Jake wouldn’t have to knock, and Adam wouldn’t get suspicious. When Jake reached the top of the stairs he slipped into my room like a snake, and I quickly closed the door behind him, leaving us in darkness except for the light on my Kindle Fire screen.