Jennifer's Triad

by Laura Anne Turner

  “Of course I don’t mind. You didn’t tell me things are more serious with her now, I mean you’ve been together something like – three weeks now, right?”

  “Yes, exactly since New Year’s Eve, as you remember.”

  “Great. I’m so happy for you, bro.”

  “Thanks, Blackie. You really ought to get to know her better. Maria’s really sweet, and I’m sure you’ll get along really very well.”

  “I’m sure we will, Martin.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you up in an hour then.”

  Forty-five minutes later a slightly disheveled Emilia comes into my room. She’s breathing heavily, as she comes closer to me, and we kiss.

  “Sorry Jen, I know I’m a bit late, but I had a coffee with a few study buddies, and forgot how late it was.”

  “You’ve got five minutes, Emi,” I say, “Martin is going to pick us up.”

  “Oh wow, that’s nice of him. I’ll be back in a minute,” Emilia says, hurrying to her own apartment next door.

  Taking my bass guitar case, I leave my apartment, waiting for Emilia in the hallway.

  “Wow, that was quick,” I remark, when Emilia comes out of her apartment. I notice she has quickly changed into blue jeans and boots, a burgundy sweater, and carries her winter jacket over her arm. I smile as she looks at me.

  “You’re so cute, Emi,” I say, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. Her brilliant smile is a wonderful reward for my compliment. She takes my hand as we walk down the stairs.

  Martin is already waiting for us, leaning leisurely against the side of his car, wearing jeans and an army parka. Maria is standing next to him. She’s wearing a long, black woolen coat, black boots, and a woolen hat. Her shoulder-length brown hair is pulled into a ponytail.

  “Hey Blackie, hi Emilia,” Martin yells enthusiastically, pulling us into a hug. “I guess you’ve already met Maria on New Year’s Eve.”

  “Hi Maria,” Emilia and I say in unison, before shaking her hand.

  “Nice to see the both of you again,” Maria says, blushing slightly.

  “Okay, let’s go,” Martin says, taking my guitar case, and putting it into the trunk of his car. Of course Maria sits on the passenger seat now, while Emilia and I get onto the backseats.

  Half an hour later we are in our rehearsal room in the basement of Marlon’s house. We’re chatting back and forth, while we get ready to play. Robin, our drummer, still hasn’t shown up.

  “Where the hell is he?” Martin asks, apparently annoyed with Robin’s lateness.

  “Maybe I should call him?” Marlon offers. “Maybe he got stuck in traffic?”

  “Give him another minute or two,” Emilia says to our surprise. I’m staring at her for a moment, but her face remains neutral.

  A couple of minutes later the door flies open, and Robin enters the room, followed by Andrea. Robin’s brow is furrowed, yet there is a smug grin on his face. Andrea’s eyes look red and swollen. She must have been crying. Oh my God, not again! I think and my anger starts to build.

  “Hey guys,” Robin mutters, throwing his jacket on a beer case in the corner of the room, and taking his seat behind his drum kit.

  Emilia walks up to Andrea, taking her hand. “Are you okay, Andrea?” Of course Emilia would know best. She’s Robin’s ex-girlfriend, and I remember seeing her cry like Andrea’s now, more than once.

  Andrea shakes her head. Emilia takes another step forward, and pulls her into a hug. She looks at me, then at Robin, and finally at Maria, who’s sitting on a beer case. “Maria, could you please take care of Andrea?”

  Maria looks up at Martin, who nods. Maria gets up, and she and Andrea leave the room.

  “Can we start rehearsing now?” Robin says, still looking annoyed. “Or is this a group therapy session for sexually frustrated chicks?”

  I don’t know why I’m losing it, but Robin’s behavior really, really pisses me off, and my anger explodes all of a sudden. “You shut the fuck up, Robin,” I snarl at him.

  The air in the room shifts perceptibly, and I realize how Emilia’s eyes widen. Robin’s jaw drops, but he’s quick to react. “You’d better keep your mouth shut, you fucking dyke,” he hisses.

  Tightening the grip on the neck of my bass guitar I take a step towards Robin, rising to my full height. “Take that back, Robin,” I say menacingly, clenching my teeth.

  Robin gets up from his drum stool. “Or what? What are you threatening me with, cunt?”

  “You motherfucking asshole,” I shout at him, when I feel Emilia’s hand on my shoulder.

  “Why don’t you just fuck off, and join your lezzie friends? This isn’t a cunt band!” Robin adds, grinning sardonically.

  “That’s enough! I’m leaving!” I turn to Martin. “I’m not playing in a band with a shit-mouthed dickhead like him!”

  Martin is totally shocked. “Jenny, please!” Martin says. “Please, calm down!”

  “Either you kick that asshole out of the band, or I’m quitting. I’ve had enough,” I growl at Martin, while putting my bass back into its case.

  “Please, Jenny, don’t go,” Marlon says. “And you, Robin, could you please keep your fucking mouth shut?”

  “If Jenny leaves, I’m leaving, too,” Emilia adds.

  “Fine! I’m not keeping my mouth shut, Marlon. Let those crazy fucking lezzies go,” Robin sneers. “We don’t have to be a cunt band.”

  “Oh my God, Robin, you’re such an incredible asshole,” Emilia screams. “Jenny, let’s go!”

  Grabbing her jacket, she storms out of the room, with me following in her wake. Martin tries to grab my arm, but I shake him off, slamming the door shut behind me. We rush past Andrea and Maria, who are sitting on top of the stairway.

  “You should really break up with that misogynist and homophobe,” I say to Andrea, before we leave. “It would be so much better for you. See you, Maria,” I say to the other girl.

  “Jenny, what’s -” Andrea says, but the rest is lost to me, since we’re storming out of the house.

  The cool evening air hits me like a punch in my face, and yet I feel like I can breathe again. Emilia takes my hand. “Robin is a total asshole, but why’d you blow up at him like that, Jen?”

  “I don’t know, Emi. But I meant everything I said.”

  “Jenny, Emilia, please wait,” Martin says from the doorway. He hurries up behind us.

  “Jenny,” he looks at me pleadingly. “Are you really serious? I mean leaving the band? Think of all the times we’ve spent together.”

  “I’m serious, Martin, I’m not coming back,” I say. “Martin, you know best how much the band means to me, but I can’t stand Robin anymore. You heard him just now! Girls are all cunts as far as he’s concerned. Andrea, Emi, all girls in general.” I look at Emilia, and then back at Martin. “The things he said to me, to us, tonight… it was just too much. If he doesn’t want to play in a cunt band, well, that’s his problem. I want to. It’s him or me.”

  Martin looks so deflated, that I can’t stand seeing him so desperate. I put my arms around him, and hug him. “Give me some time to think about it, Martin, but I’m not coming back tonight.”

  Martin sighs. He lets me go, and looks at Emilia. “What about you, Emilia?”

  “I feel the same way as Jenny does. You know I have my own history with Robin, but I just can’t put up with him any longer. And I know where I belong, and with who.” She gazes into my eyes, and takes my hand. I suddenly feel ready to cry.

  Martin takes a deep breath. “I can understand that. Okay then, I should go back. Please take care. I’ll call you tomorrow, Jenny,” he says turning around, and slowly walks back to the house, his shoulders slumped.

  “What do you want to do now?” Emilia asks, as we slowly trod our way to the next bus stop.

  “Have a drink.”

  “Okay. Where?”

  “Well, we could go to that little bar around the corner from our place. I know it’s nothing special, but it’s close. I could leave my bass
in my room, and we could walk to the bar. What do you think?”

  Emilia shrugs and says, “Okay, why not?”

  +++

  Three hours later Emilia and I are still sitting at the bar, downing yet another glass of beer, followed by a shot of ‘Jaegermeister’. We’re giggling about a joke Emilia just told. The alcohol has a soothing effect on my mood. I’m feeling much better than earlier that evening, even though – or rather because – I’m slightly drunk.

  “Hello ladies, can I offer you another shot?” a male voice says behind my back. I see Emilia rolling her eyes, and turn around slowly. The guy must be about our age, is sporting an undercut and a dark beard. There’s a fat, golden necklace around his neck, and his open shirt reveals his hairy chest. I feel like throwing up.

  Knowing what kind of mood I’ve been in today, Emilia puts her hand on my knee, and turns the guy’s offer down as politely as she can. But of course he doesn’t accept a polite ‘no’ as a ‘no’.

  “C’mon, girls, let’s just have another ‘Jaegermeister’ together.” He signals the barkeeper to pour three shots.

  I turn around to Mr. Blackbeard, glaring at him. “Are you deaf or what? My girl here said no. You don’t know how to take ‘no’ for an answer?”

  “Oho, chill down, I only meant to be friendly.” He lifts his hands in surrender, but his eyes tell differently.

  My eyes narrow. “You should leave us alone. Go.” I struggle to contain my temper. “Please.”

  The bartender puts three shot glasses onto the bar in front of us.

  “No, thanks,” Emilia tells him, pushing the glasses away.

  “Do you want to insult me?” Blackbeard says, “I’ve paid for the drinks.”

  “Well, we didn’t give you any reason to think we wanted your drinks,” I spit out, getting up from my barstool. Emilia gets up too, eyeing me a bit nervously.

  “We’re leaving. But now you’ve got three drinks and you can get drunk all by yourself. Come on, Emi,” I say to Emilia.

  “Hey, wait,” Mr. Blackbeard says, grabbing my arm. “You can’t just leave like that after I paid for your drinks.”

  “Let me go,” I hiss at him, clenching my fist.

  He lets go of my arm, a little taken aback, and he looks between Emilia and me. Suddenly something seems to dawn on him. “You’re a lesbian,” he says in disgust, “you’re a fucking dyke. You’re going to hell.”

  I suddenly start laughing hysterically. “Oh my God, ‘Going to Hell’ is one of my favorite songs!”

  He looks at me in total confusion. Apparently he hasn’t heard of Taylor Momsen or The Pretty Reckless, either. His religion probably forbids listening to that kind of music.

  Emilia grabs my hand and pulls me away. “C’mon, Jenny, let’s just go.”

  I realize she’s right, and turn to head to the exit with her. And then I hear the guy yell behind our backs. “Fuckin’ lezzies!”

  Clenching my fists I stop and start to turn back to face him, but Emilia drags me toward the exit. “Jenny, please, no,” Emilia says, “he’s not worth the trouble.” She quickly stops, handing the bartender a twenty Euro note, before she pulls me out of the bar.

  I feel drained once we’re outside the bar. I take a moment to lean against the bar’s cold brick wall. I take a deep breath. “This just isn’t my day, Emi. Let’s go home.”

  Emilia takes my hand, and together we walk the short distance around the block to the home we share.

  We go back to Emilia’s apartment, and finish an open bottle of red wine, before we sink into Emilia’s bed. Emilia’s love, tenderness, and passion make me forget all the ugly things that happened today, and I cry out her name when she makes me arch my back and clench the sheets.

  +++

  It’s Saturday morning at eleven, and I’m still lying in Emilia’s bed, while she takes a shower. I’m still naked except for the sheet that covers me. I’m expecting Martin’s call, and so when my phone goes off, I don’t bother checking to see who it is before answering.

  There’s a short break, before a gentle female voice says, ‘Hello, Jennifer?’

  “Uh…yeah, this is Jennifer. And you are…?”

  “Oh hi, Jenny, this is Nellie. You know, Nellie from ‘The Coldhearts’? I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

  “Oh hi, Nellie, this is a surprise, I was just expecting somebody else to call. No, you’re not interrupting anything.” Nellie’s gentle voice and the mental image of her make my stomach turn over.

  “Listen Jenny, I know this is very short notice, but could you come over to our house today? And bring your bass?”

  I’m completely taken by surprise. Why would she want me to come to ‘The Coldhearts’ house with my bass?

  “Jenny? You still there?”

  “Sorry, yeah, sure. I’m going to be working at the wine bar tonight, but I’m free this afternoon.”

  Nellie clears her throat. “It would be awesome if you could come this afternoon. I can pick you up and bring you back, so you won’t be late for work. You know we live out in the country, right?”

  “Nellie, can you please tell me what this is about?”

  “Well…we have a kind of emergency, and need a bass player. And we’re thinking of you.”

  My heart starts pounding even more. Whoa. That is some news. ‘The Coldhearts’ want me to play bass for them?

  “Wait. You want me to play bass for The Coldhearts? What about Caro?”

  “That’s a long story. I’ll explain later. Please say yes, Jenny. Will you come this afternoon for an audition?”

  “But I don’t know how to play your songs.”

  “That’s no problem. No one is going to kill you if you play out of tune. We saw your performance, and Bette is totally crazy about you. She says you’d fit in perfectly. Please say yes.”

  “Okay, Nellie, I’ll come today. Uh, but could you pick me up? I don’t have a car.”

  “Yes, sure. What’s your address?”

  My heart is beating wildly as I give my address to Nellie ‘Coldheart’.

  “I’ll be there at one. By the way, when do you have to be home again?”

  “By six at the latest.”

  “That’ll leave us at least three hours. That’s perfect. Thank you so much, Jenny. I’ll be at your place at one.”

  As soon as I end the call I leap out of Emilia’s bed, and frantically start throwing together some clothes to wear. At this very moment Emilia comes from the bathroom, wearing her red robe, and a towel wrapped around her head.

  “What’s going on?” She looks at me in confusion.

  “Guess who just called?”

  “Uh… Martin?”

  “No, not Martin. It was Nellie! Nellie Coldheart! ‘The Coldhearts’ need a bass player, and they want me to audition! I’ve gotta get ready. Nellie’s going to pick me up at one!”

  Emilia’s jaw drops. “The Coldhearts? You’re going to be one of them?”

  “I don’t know. They want me to audition first.”

  “That’s great, I guess,” Emilia says. She’s gotten over her initial shock, but she doesn’t look very happy.

  CHAPTER 5 – AN AUDITION

  “So…Can you tell me why you’re looking for a bass player?” I ask the question that matters. I’m in Nellie’s old Audi after she’s picked me up at exactly 1pm for a thirty minutes ride to the countryside where ‘The Coldhearts’ live. After Nellie’s call I’ve become more and more excited, and also the familiar tingling in my stomach and other places I seem to get where Nellie’s concerned, has shown up.

  “It’s a long story,” Nellie says responding to my question. “But I’ll make it short. Ina and Caro have been together on and off for quite some time. Ina are Bette are alike. She’s had girls by the score. Those two just don’t have it in them to be monogamous. Caro’s different. Or rather she’s changed. When I first met her she was like Bette and Ina. At some point however she fell totally in love with Ina, and didn’t want Ina to be with anyone
but her. Ina tried to be what Caro wanted her to be, but she couldn’t. So they kept breaking up over and over, and getting back together over and over.”

  I nod quietly, while Nellie sighs before she goes on.

  “Then, a few weeks ago Caro met another girl, and she fell for her, and the other girl fell for her, too. And she’s like Caro. She doesn’t want to be with anyone but Caro, and she doesn’t want Caro to be with anyone but her.”

  I consider that for a moment. “Well, I can totally understand that, Nellie. That’s how Emilia is,” I offer after a brief silence.

  Nellie smiles and looks at me for a brief moment, before she turns her eyes back to the road again. I keep looking at her profile. Besides her cute Alice Cullen haircut, she’s wearing black jeans, and a red V-neck sweater. Around her neck is a black scarf. She’s wearing black-rimmed glasses while driving, which give her an adorably nerdy look.

  Nellie takes a deep breath and goes on. “Anyway, Caro dropped a couple of bombs on us yesterday. She told us that she’s breaking up with Ina, and quits ‘The Coldhearts’. She announced she’s moving to Hamburg to be with her new girlfriend. We were all shocked, and Ina was devastated, especially since Caro didn’t tell her first.”

  Nellie sighs heavily and shakes her head. “I suppose it was bound to happen sooner or later, though. We feel that Caro handled things badly, but she is who she is, after all. She couldn’t go on playing with ‘The Coldhearts’, because Ina still loves her, and she’ll always want to be with her, but she’s unable to change who she is. And for Caro it would be too hard to be in a band with Ina, with things being like that between the two of them. And a new girlfriend five hundred kilometers away.”

  Again Nellie glances at me, and smiles wryly. “And now we need a new bass player. Who can be ready to play with us next Saturday.”

  I let that sink in. “Wait! You want me to perform with you next Saturday already? I’d only have one week to learn all of your songs?”

  Nellie nods. “Yes, unfortunately, we only have one week to get you started. That’s why we need to rehearse a little more than usual. Don’t be afraid, Jenny, I’m sure you will totally nail it. We know you can play, and we strongly believe you’re an excellent addition to the band. And you’ll see, it will be amazing to become one of ‘The Coldhearts’.