Friend (With Benefits) Zone

by Laura Brown

  A studio apartment above my bar. Maybe a cat. I didn’t dare sign that.

  More pain came to his eyes, which were no longer a vibrant blue, but a dark mess of stormy waters. “Where am I?”

  Married to someone else. “I don’t know.”

  “Don’t lie. Don’t you dare lie to me.”

  I glanced at the yin on my wrist. What had we been thinking? “We’re not meant to be.”

  “Bullshit. Do I not make you happy?”

  “It’s not about being happy. In case you’ve missed this in the past ten years, nice things don’t work for me. The less I have, the less I hurt.”

  “If you keep selling yourself short, you’ll never have the things that life is made of. I’m standing here—naked, I might add—ready to give you everything I have. And you’re running away.”

  “You can’t give everything to a woman who has nothing.”

  “Watch me.”

  I stomped, frustrated beyond hell. “No! I won’t let you one day turn around and hate me for always being at a bar. This future you imagine, does it involve nice calm family dinners at home, curling up to watch a movie after the kids go to sleep? Or does it involve you alone, because your wife is at the bar she owns all night? Every night. And you get a few hours a day because you are on different sleep schedules. That’s my life if I marry someone.”

  His hands stayed by his side. Only his chest moved. Because I’d caught him.

  “Our futures don’t line up.”

  He shook his head. “I knew all that about your future.”

  “But I was your friend. The person you visited on your free nights. Not the person you waited for to come home.”

  He leaned against the counter. “There’s nothing wrong with your future.”

  “Same. But do you want it?”

  He looked at me, and I turned my attention to fixing my towel. I couldn’t see his face, couldn’t bear to be right. He waved, and I forced myself to look at him. “We need time to figure this out.”

  I swallowed and reinforced my shell, the one I had somehow managed to take down. In that moment I realized how much I wanted this, a real shot at a relationship with him. “Talk to your father. Take the social work job.”

  I left the bathroom, went into his bedroom, and pulled on clothes. I couldn’t stay here, and I needed an excuse to leave. When Dev joined me, he leaned against the wall, towel around his waist. “I promised my mother I’d visit her. Almost forgot with caring for the hangovers.”

  He didn’t smile, he didn’t move. He nodded. We both knew if I had my way, I wasn’t coming back.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Devon

  JAS LEFT. I watched the door for an hour for some inane reason. She was gone. Two hours prior, I’d had her in my arms in the shower, nothing between us. Now I had no clue when I’d see her again.

  I closed my eyes and faced the ceiling. Future. It all boiled down to future. I wanted her, no matter what package that came with. Why the hell hadn’t I signed any of that?

  Because I hadn’t thought it out, not really. I had this idealistic image in my head, the typical two-parent, two-kid one, probably sexist as all hell. And I had shoved Jas into that image. Not because I truly wanted the image. All I knew was that my future involved her.

  I hadn’t taken the time to figure out what that meant. Who would at my age? A relationship with her had felt like a distant dream, so far from reality that mapping out details would’ve been impossible. We’d each been working toward our careers, not thinking about marriage and children.

  I stopped now—I had no choice at this point—and really thought of what a future with Jas would be like. The bar was a no-brainer; that’s where she’d be, if she could make it work. And a part of me always knew I’d finish up my day job, then spend my nights at whatever bar she worked at.

  But that was us young. I tried to age us, to toss a few kids into the mix, and recalled all those times I’d hung out with Jas and Eddie at his bar. If Jas and I had kids, that would be their lives too—growing up in a bar.

  I could almost make out two kids with dark curly hair. I was either an idiot to be thinking this now or spot-on, thanks to unprotected shower sex.

  So maybe I hadn’t thought it all through ahead of time. But Jas was the person I wanted, including the package she came with. Only my wants didn’t line up with hers.

  Life certainly was a fickle beast. I’d almost given up the career I wanted for a future with a woman that might not happen.

  The only thing I was certain of anymore was that I needed my own future. Jas would never let me take the accounting job to help her. And that grated. She wouldn’t let me do shit. She locked the door and threw away the key.

  I grabbed my keys and left, not able to stay here alone with my thoughts. I needed to help, needed to do something, anything for Jas. Even if it was part of the cause of the fight, changing myself wasn’t the answer. Not when there was something she needed, thanks to my mistake.

  I fixed my mistakes.

  There might have been a little voice inside suggesting it wasn’t a mistake. I squashed it. We were too young, and trapping Jas would only make things worse.

  I went to the pharmacy and found the Plan B pill, doubly glad I’d done so when I caught the price. Jas would’ve risked it for that amount. Though the cost of the pill sure beat the cost of raising a child.

  Our child.

  I turned the box over in my hands, reading the information. This would prevent what we weren’t ready for. That was all. Though I couldn’t deny it felt like another element killing our connection together.

  Didn’t matter. Her choice. With all the instability and turmoil in her life, I didn’t dare pile anything more on her shoulders.

  I bought the damn package.

  Jas wasn’t there when I got home, but I really didn’t expect her to be. I set the package by her charger. I should have sent her a text, let her know I’d gotten it for her. The words were too final. Either she’d get one herself, or she’d come here and make up her own mind.

  I couldn’t handle any further thoughts on this topic, so I left again, in hopes she’d come here and give me some answers. I drove. With no destination in mind, autopilot led the way. Right to my parents’ house.

  Fuck it. I already lost Jas, might as well round out the day and piss Dad off as well.

  I stalked up the stone pathway, about to enter the house without warning like I always did. But since I had moved out, I never stopped by this unexpected.

  I sent them a text. While I waited, I sat on the step, looked out into the little cul-de-sac neighborhood I grew up in. Two-story houses surrounded by trees and manicured lawns, a few bikes strewn on driveways. Odds were I wouldn’t be able to afford this for my family.

  More importantly, now that I really considered it, I didn’t want it. Not at the expense of my job. And who knew? Maybe at some point, in the right area, I would be able to afford a little house.

  With Jas. The only constant in my future thoughts. I tried to fit her into a neighborhood like this. She didn’t fit. It wasn’t what she wanted.

  Damn, we really were a mismatch. I rubbed at my yang before catching myself and pulling my thumb off the still-tender flesh. Too bad she had my heart.

  My phone vibrated, and I let my parents know I was already here before entering the house. I found them in the kitchen, Dad reading the newspaper, Mom doing schoolwork. They glanced at me and both looked a little surprised.

  “You OK?” Mom asked.

  I ran a hand through my hair. Hadn’t even taken a comb to it. I didn’t know if I still looked hungover or like a man whose heart had been trampled on. “I’m fine.”

  Dad laughed. I tapped the table until he looked up, prepared to wipe the smile off his face. “I’m a social worker. Not an accountant.”

  Mom placed a hand on my shoulder, then collected her work. Either to give us space or get out of the fire.

  Dad leaned back. “You can help peo
ple with taxes.”

  I shook my head. “I can help people as a social worker. There’s a position open; they want me to apply. I want to apply.”

  “You don’t want my business?” His face held no emotion, gave nothing away.

  I steeled my spine. “No.”

  Dad stared, a cold, hard glare that would have made a younger me squirm. “We need more Deaf accountants.”

  I returned his glare and forced my body to remain still. “We need more Deaf social workers.”

  We stared at each other, and I wondered if this would be another relationship I tarnished today.

  Dad rubbed his neck, then dropped his shoulders. “I hope you’re not leaving during tax season.”

  I breathed a little easier. “Not until I graduate.”

  Dad nodded. “You sure about this?”

  “Yes, very.”

  “Does this have anything to do with Jasmine?”

  Quite the opposite. “No, this is me.”

  “You going to be able to support her?”

  I knew it was common knowledge social workers didn’t make much, but I’d be able to live. Just not expedite Jas’s bar. “She supports herself.”

  Dad lifted an eyebrow. “I raised you better than that.”

  “Life raised her to be that way.”

  Dad really looked at me for the first time in a long time. “You OK?”

  No. I contemplated telling him but wasn’t ready to share. Not his problem, anyways. “Yes, I’m fine.”

  He sensed something was up though; they both did. Mom insisted I stay for dinner. I pulled out my phone, ready to let Jas know, but stopped. She wouldn’t be there anyways.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Jasmine

  THE MOMENT I walked into Mom’s room, she began signing, “What’s wrong?”

  I paused. Stared. Who was this woman with clean hair and clear eyes? “Nothing. I’m fine.”

  “I wrote the book on ‘I’m fine.’ Sit. Talk.”

  I moved into the room, one tentative foot in front of the other. Afraid I’d trigger whatever alternate-reality detonator had created this encounter. I settled into the chair beside her. Mom wore her own clothes today. She crossed her hands across her stomach and waited me out.

  “I fought with Devon.”

  Mom nodded. “You two used to fight all the time. Play fight, your dad would call it. This isn’t play, is it?”

  Not even close.

  Mom looked at my wrist. “He has the other half.”

  Emotion choked me. Stupid tattoo.

  Mom sighed. “Are you dating your best friend?”

  “I was.”

  Mom shook her head. “Now where are you going to live?”

  “I don’t know yet.”

  “I can’t believe it’s that bad. Nothing can break the two of you.”

  “Like you and Dad?”

  Mom paused, leveled me with a glare. “Couples fight. It’s part of love. It’s what you do after the fight that’s important.”

  I shook my head. “We want different futures. It’s not going to work.”

  She reached out toward me, held her hand in the air, and waited me out. I leaned forward and took it. She brushed my hair off my face with her other. So strange, holding onto my mother like this. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t there to raise you properly.” She wanted to say more, I knew it, but I came by my stubborn streak naturally. “Why don’t you stay at my place? I’m not going to be there anytime soon.”

  It was an option. A chance to figure out my next steps on my own, without overbearing people breathing down my neck. We switched the conversation to the soap opera she was watching, something even more complicated than my own life. In the middle of our chat, a guy around my age entered the room carrying a tray of food.

  Mom smiled upon seeing him, and her lips moved when she signed. “My daughter, the one I told you about. She’s Deaf.” Mom faced me. “His name’s Will. He’s learning ASL.”

  Will smiled and placed Mom’s tray on the rolling cart. “Nice to meet you,” he signed, slow and awkward.

  I couldn’t help smiling back. “Nice to meet you too.” Then, I decided to test him. “Why learn ASL?”

  Will moved Mom’s tray in front of her. “I thought, cool. Now I want to help.” His movements were choppy and ungraceful, his grammar off, but he got his meaning across.

  On my way out, I spotted him at the nurses’ station. I rounded an empty wheelchair to get to him. “Thank you.”

  Light eyebrows pulled together. “For your mother?”

  “For learning ASL.”

  A smile lit his face, traveled straight up to his eyes. The type of smile that made knees weak. “I like it. Helps me meet good people.” He tapped the folder in front of him. “Maybe, one day, coffee? Help me practice?”

  I raised my hands and froze. Was he being friendly or asking me out? Did I want someone to ask me out? Then I remembered what Dev said; I hadn’t let anyone new into my life since Dad died. And it wasn’t like I had much to do with my time. “OK.”

  THE SUN HAD begun its descent by the time I pulled into a parking space at Mom’s building. Weariness had taken over, and I yearned for a quiet moment. I’d trekked through these halls countless times on my own, yet somehow I worried about being caught. I kept my head down, determined to ignore any of her neighbors if our paths crossed, not too difficult due to communications issues. Turned out I didn’t need to worry. Everyone was in their rooms, and no one stopped me.

  Not that they would, but technically I wasn’t allowed to stay here. I unlocked Mom’s door and stepped into stale air and a musky smell. I had already taken care of the trash, so at least it was an improvement over my previous trip. I opened the windows and took a moment with my nose sticking into the spring air, wondering how my life had come to this. Those were unpleasant thoughts, so I set about cleaning. The place needed it if I was going to stay here. More importantly, Mom deserved a nice place to come home to, especially if her positive mood continued.

  I cleaned. I scrubbed. I changed her sheets. And by the time night blanketed the sky, I was to-the-bone exhausted. I hadn’t eaten anything since lunch and didn’t care if the grumbling in my stomach was hunger pains or upset. I collapsed onto Mom’s bed. I knew I needed to send Dev a text so he wouldn’t worry. But my cell was dead and my charger at his place. Mom’s charger was at the rehab with her.

  Truth, being off the grid felt nice. For the time being, no one except Mom knew where I was. Tomorrow Dev would be at classes and work. I’d collect my stuff then, send him a text once I had power.

  Until then, I needed sleep. Mom’s bed wasn’t bad, the full mattress still had a decent spring to it. I tossed and turned. How quickly I had grown used to Dev. To sleeping beside him, curling up with him. The perfect way to end a day.

  No more. Never again. From now on, I would be an island. No dates, no loves. Just me and my dream.

  My friends would claim that’s who I’d been all along. But so what? Clearly that’s who I was. What I was. And if I kept this up, I’d never get any sleep.

  I threw the covers off me, studied the way the streetlights lit up parts of the room. Noticed one picture was off-center from the rest. My parents’ wedding picture.

  Below that? My graduation picture.

  How had I not noticed them before? From her bed, Mom could see us. A realization took root, and I didn’t know what to do about it. How many nights had she spent staring at us while she waited for sleep to claim her? I struggled to reconcile the woman I knew with this strange sense of warmth and caring the image before me created. For so long, I had learned to be closed off from her. My plans, who I’d become, all because of her depression. A depression that Mom didn’t want. The pictures said it all: she wanted us. Death took Dad. Depression took her. And the combination destroyed me.

  BY MORNING I had managed a few hours of sleep. I wanted to sleep longer, sleep the day away. I had no plans anyways. My body had different ideas.


  I waited until Dev’s class started and prayed he wasn’t skipping because of me. Then I got ready for the day and headed over to his apartment.

  His car wasn’t there. I had no idea what to make of the strange twinge in my heart. No time to ponder such sensations. I let myself into his unit. It looked the same. No message for me, no real signs of what his night was like. Until I spotted the box sitting beside my charger.

  I had forgotten all about it, my confidence in the timing being off strong enough to bury the need. But Dev hadn’t. Not much of a surprise from Mr. Helper. No note, no message, just a box that prevented pregnancy.

  An option. I knew his intent; I knew why it waited for me. Dev took care of his own.

  I stared at the box, fighting a growing unease in my gut. Then I shoved it into my purse. I grabbed my duffel and collected my items; clothes and toiletries didn’t take up much room. It didn’t take long. It never did. I only took what I needed for Mom’s. The rest stayed.

  Including Dad’s box.

  TWO HOURS LATER, I sat at Mom’s kitchen table, a glass of water in front of me, next to the opened Plan B box. I read the instructions and warnings over and over again but still couldn’t bring myself to puncture the package and release the pill.

  I turned the package over again, my nails doing nothing to release the dosage. Take the damn pill, Jasmine! It was so simple. All I had to do was swallow the pill and go on with my day.

  The responsible thing to do was take the pill. Dev wanted me to; he bought it. Or he didn’t want me to. I didn’t know anymore. But I knew we weren’t ready for the ramifications. Knowing each other for fifteen years didn’t change the fact that we were too young and our foundation was too shaken. This was one huge commitment neither one of us was ready for.

  Which didn’t explain why I put the contents back in the package and drank the water. Definitely half empty now.

  The timing wasn’t right. That’s why I wasn’t taking the pill. No reason to put chemicals in my body if there was only a slim chance of getting pregnant anyways. I’d be fine.

  Or foolish. I wasn’t one to take risks. I had my bar to own. And perhaps that single-minded view hadn’t done me a ton of favors over the years.