Spice

by Jenna Jameson

  “Why not?”

  Liz wanted to run away from the question or yell at him to go to his room. He was asking hard questions that she didn’t have easy answers for. But she owed it to him to try and explain. “He hurt my feelings. Sometimes a sorry doesn’t fix that. How can I trust someone will tell the truth when the friendship started with lies? Do you understand? What would you do if you found out Madison only liked you because you have Angry Birds on your iPad?”

  “Mom, everyone has Angry Birds.” Jonathan laughed at her.

  “I know. But pretend. She became your friend just so you could play Angry Birds and then one day you find out that’s why she approached you. How would you feel?”

  Jonathan thought about it. “Did she still want to be my friend after I found out?”

  “Yes,” Liz said.

  “Did we do other things than play Angry Birds, like take boxing lessons and have fun?”

  “Sure.” Liz took his dirty cup and washed it, rinsed it, and set it in the dish drainer to dry.

  “I’d be mad. But if she was sorry and we still had fun together, isn’t that what it’s all about? Having a friend who cares about me and who I have a good time with? How we met shouldn’t matter as long as she’s not lying about staying my friend. Right?” He looked up at her with hopeful eyes.

  “You are so damned smart.” Liz hugged him to her. “I’m proud you’re my son.”

  “So, can I take boxing lessons?” He peeked up at her, hope shining in his eyes.

  “We’ll see.” She kissed the top of his head.

  Con artist.

  They had a ton of chores to do. Saturday was chore day. Sunday was fun day. Their least favorite of the chores was laundry. First, they had to haul all the dirty clothes down to the basement machines. Then wait for the washer and dryer. Then haul the clean clothes back up. They took a walk around the neighborhood and did some shopping during the cycles. When they were trudging up the stairs carrying the clean baskets, Liz noticed a thick manila envelope leaning against her door.

  Not again.

  “Look, Mom, someone left us a package.”

  Jonathan snagged it before she could set the laundry down and take it.

  “Jonathan, wait. Don’t open it.”

  But he had peeked inside already. Wrinkling his nose, he put it on top of her basket of clean clothes. “It’s just paperwork.”

  She set up Jonathan with the task of putting his folded clothes away neatly. Liz dumped her basket on the floor and emptied the contents of the envelope out on her bedspread. There were college scholarship applications and pamphlets. Government grants and federal programs. Each one tailored for her. One was for single mothers. One was for cancer survivors. Yet another was for low-income families, and even more for self-employed women or women who owned their own businesses.

  “Oh,” Liz pressed a hand to her heart. She knew there were opportunities out there. She even searched for them, but she never gave them more than a cursory look. This large envelope was the narrowed-down version of all the sites and opportunities that had overwhelmed her.

  Sarah wouldn’t have done it. She would have written a check. Everyone else was too busy or wouldn’t have thought of it. That left one person. A cynical part of her said that he’d do anything to get back in her good graces, and then the sensible part asked why would he want to unless he really did feel the same way whether he was an undergrad or a PhD candidate.

  She picked up her phone and called him. She almost dropped it when a woman answered. Well, there went that idea. He went straight from her apartment and right to this woman. Liz gave a shaky laugh. While she was rubbing herself into a frenzy, Sean was probably having kinky sex with the woman on the other end of the phone. Maybe he didn’t send over the applications. It was probably Peter, anyway.

  Way to jump to conclusions, dummy.

  “Hello?” the woman said again. “Is this Liz?”

  Panicked, Liz almost dropped the phone, but then realized he probably had caller ID. “Um yes, I was looking for Sean, but I don’t want to bother him. I’ll just hang up.”

  Liz was about to press the hang-up button when she heard, “You won’t bother him. He’s unconscious.”

  *** ***

  It galled Liz that the first time she was going to Sean’s apartment, it wasn’t because he invited her. In fact, the big dummy didn’t even know she was on her way. Jonathan was pleased as punch to be spending his Saturday at the Cannings’ place. Cole’s video game setup looked like NASA, only with newer tech. Sarah only shook her head and demanded details—really good ones—after Jonathan went to bed.

  The woman on Sean’s phone turned out to be his sister’s girlfriend. Laverne had just checked him out of the hospital and had tucked him into bed. From their brief conversation, she told Liz that Sean had had a sparring match in the gym this morning. Laverne had shown up to cheer him on and wound up seeing him take a lucky shot to the chin. They called the paramedics when they couldn’t rouse him. He came around before they got there, but was having a hard time with details.

  Sean lived in Astoria Park, which was nowhere near NYU or the Silver Campus. It was close to McManus’s gym and to the clinic where he worked. She had checked out Sabrina’s story and discovered where Sean really worked when he wasn’t teaching sociology classes.

  Laverne let her in. “He’s sleeping, but if you want, you can peek in on him.”

  “Sleeping? I thought you weren’t supposed to let a concussed person sleep.” Liz rushed into the bedroom Laverne indicated. She recognized the walls and background from their Skype conversations.

  Sean was in bed, fully clothed. He had a cut under his eye and bruising under his jaw. Tiptoeing to his side, she pulled the sheet over him and kissed his forehead. He didn’t stir. Liz closed the door behind her and leaned against it. Her knees were shaking.

  “The doctors said it was okay for him to get some rest. He wasn’t throwing up and his eyes were normal, not dilated.” Laverne helped her to a chair at the kitchen table and got her a glass of water.

  “What happened?” Liz said.

  “He was doing really well. They were trading blows back and forth.” Laverne did some boxing moves. “It was all new to me, but it wasn’t a real match or anything. It was just practice.”

  “Practice?” Liz sputtered on her water. “He got sent to the hospital. He’s all bruised and cut.” She wanted to cry. She wanted to find the other fighter and kick his ass.

  “It was just a bad punch. Kyle, his opponent, is so upset.”

  “He should be.” Liz forced herself to take a drink of water and calm down. She looked around Sean’s apartment. There were electronics and stacks of paper everywhere. The furniture looked brand new and definitely not garage-sale finds. He had art on his wall that showed off his style. They were seriolithographs and not posters, either. Now she knew why they never came back here. Location aside, even with a roommate, an undergraduate would have a hard time affording this place. It made her apartment look shabby.

  Liz took a fortifying breath. “I’m glad you were there for him today.”

  “Me, too,” she said, looking at her hands. “No one should have to face the hospital all alone.”

  A pang of sympathy went through her. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

  Laverne’s lip tilted up in a half smile. “Thanks.”

  “Sean talks about her with great love. I’m sorry I never met her.”

  “I miss her,” Laverne’s voice quivered. “Sometimes I feel like she’s still alive and I’ll walk in the door and she’ll be there waiting for me. And when she’s not, my heart breaks all over again, because I know she never will be. I’d give anything to have her back.”

  Of course Sean didn’t have any tissues, but Liz found a roll of paper towels. She brought it back to the table and handed Laverne one.

  “I’m all right,” Laverne said. “I just go through these crying jags. Sean went crazy, and I cry at the drop of the hat. Grief. It
’s a funny thing.”

  “Yeah,” Liz said.

  “Can I ask you a question?” Laverne blew her nose.

  Liz shrugged. “I guess.”

  “Do you love him? Because he is head over heels in love with you.”

  “I can’t be in love with him,” Liz said, shaking her head.

  “Then why did you come over here so fast?” Laverne grabbed another paper towel and wet it at the kitchen sink. She folded it up over her eyes.

  “I was worried. He’s a friend.” It sounded false to Liz’s ears. She had come over because she was terrified.

  Laverne eased her head back and pressed the cold damp paper towel to her eyelids. “Can I tell you something?”

  Liz got up and put her glass in the sink. “Go ahead.” She’d been schooled by her nine-year-old this morning, and now it looked like she was going to hear it from Sean’s sister’s lover, too.

  “He wouldn’t get in the ambulance until I promised him to deliver an envelope to you. He was afraid it was going to get lost. He wasn’t sure if he would remember it or you. That’s how fucked up he was after he got hit. Sean made me promise I would tell you that he would always love you—even if he never remembered it.”

  Laverne handed her the roll of paper towels. Liz barely heard the rest of it through her own crying jag. She was so sick of crying! But it was cathartic.

  “Men do crazy shit all the time. I swear their brains aren’t wired right. He’s an ass. He’s too intellectual sometimes and other times he’s too physical. But he’s a nice damn guy. Forgive him already. And if you can’t, stop giving him hope.”

  Liz nodded. She had some decisions to make.

  “I’ve got an appointment.” Laverne tossed the paper towel in the garbage. “Will you be here until he wakes up?”

  “Sure,” Liz wanted to see him up and lucid before she went anywhere.

  “If he’s not up and you have to go, you call me and I’ll come back.” Laverne tossed her purse over her arm.

  “I’ll be here until morning.”

  “What about your kid?”

  “He’s staying at a friend’s.”

  Laverne nodded and sighed, “Let me know if he takes a turn for the worse.”

  “Is that possible?” Liz had thought the worst was over.

  “Head trauma is tricky. The doctor gave him some painkillers, and he may need them when he wakes up. You’ll take care of him?”

  “I will,” Liz promised.

  “Good, because he’s my little brother now. Desiree will haunt me if I let anything bad happen to him.” She cast a fond look at the bedroom door.

  After Laverne left, Liz tidied up until she couldn’t stand it anymore and went into the bedroom to hold Sean’s hand while he slept.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Fuck.

  Goddamn Donovan.

  Every inch of him ached. He wanted a shower and a beer. It felt like heavy bags were holding down his entire body. Getting up was too much effort. Sean just lay there and, as clarity came back, he became aware that someone was holding his hand.

  Forcing his eyelids to raise, he saw Liz sitting there.

  “Liz?” he tried to get up.

  “Lie down,” she said. “You were knocked out.”

  “You were there?” The details were still fuzzy.

  “No, Laverne called me.”

  That was right. He remembered that.

  “Did you get the scholarship applications?”

  Liz bit her lip. “Yes, thank you.”

  He relaxed back into his pillow. “Good.” He was sleepy.

  “Can I get you anything?” she asked.

  “You can get your sweet ass in bed with me,” he mumbled. A far away thought pinged him that might not be the right thing to say, so he ignored it. She dropped his hand and the ping blossomed to a pain in his heart.

  Oh right. She hates me.

  But the next thing he registered was her warm body getting under the covers. He slung his arm around her and pulled her close.

  “Love you,” he said before sleep claimed him again.

  *** ***

  Sean was in the ring, fully suited up. The slight wine hangover from last night bothered him, but he drank enough water that he didn’t think he’d be dehydrated. Jogging in place to stay loose, he watched McManus give Donovan some last-minute tips.

  The scene flickered and he was ready to come out swinging. Turning around, Mary—no Desiree—was in the ring with him. She was wearing a Rockette outfit and practicing her kicks.

  “Hi Squirt,” she said. “Are you mad at me?”

  “No.” Sean knew this was a dream because his mouthguard was still in, but he was speaking perfectly. “But you’re dead.”

  “And you’re sleeping.” Her costume changed to a tin soldier and she did the Christmas dance they saw every year at Radio City Music Hall.

  “Why did you smoke that shit?” He swung at a giant crack pipe. It shattered into pieces of glass that tore into his face. He couldn’t see through all the blood.

  “I fucked up,” she said.

  “I fucked up, too.” He danced around her, throwing punches at a fake opponent.

  “You can still turn it around.” Her kicks were getting higher and closer.

  “Can I?”

  “Tell Mom and Dad I love them.” And then she high-kicked him in the chin.

  *** ***

  When he woke, his head was screaming and he had to take a piss. He made it to a sitting position before his gut roiled and the room spun.

  The bed shifted as Liz sat up. “Do you need help?”

  Nodding caused pain like ice picks jammed into his eyes and ears. “Yeah,” he said quietly.

  Fucking Donovan could hit.

  Liz helped him to his feet and guided him to the bathroom.

  “I got this,” he said, eyes slits. “Just don’t turn on any lights.”

  “Yell if you need help.”

  “I can take a piss by myself. I got hit in the head, not the dick,” he growled.

  She smacked him on the ass. “Be nice. I’m going to get you a glass of water so you can take your pain meds.”

  “You’re an angel,” he said and closed the bathroom door in her face.

  He caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror and wished he hadn’t. He had been in worse shape, but not for a while. Trying to remember the fight, Sean steadied himself on the bathroom counter. There must have been an angle he didn’t count on. He thought he’d had Donovan’s timing down.

  The dizziness forced him to sit down to take care of his business. When he was done, he thought about a shower but didn’t think he’d be able to stand that long. Maybe later after the meds kicked in. Liz was waiting for him with the glass and two horse pills.

  Grimacing, Sean swallowed them down and allowed her to lead him back to bed. “I’m okay,” he said.

  “I can see that.” She tucked him in and sat down on the bed next to him.

  “Want to fool around?”

  Liz smiled and touched his face.

  He winced.

  “How about I get you an ice pack for your face?”

  “That sounds good, too.”

  He tried to prop up the pillows to sit up, but it was too much effort. Besides, his ceiling was very entertaining, but not as entertaining as the inside of his eyelids. He heard her come back into the room. The bed sank a bit when she resumed her seat by his chest. Gently, a damp dishcloth filled with ice touched his eye and cheekbone. He sighed at the cold relief.

  “Thanks,” he said, holding it in place. “Not that I’m complaining, but what are you doing here?” She was the last person he expected to see, let alone be in his bed. Part of him was wondering if he had dreamed that. Nah, if he had dreamed it, they both would have been naked.

  “Laverne let me in. I called to thank you for the applications and then she told me about your concussion.”

  “How did you know it was me who sent the applications?” he rasped. He ha
d been working on them ever since the day she threw him out of her apartment.

  “They were meticulously researched.” Liz tucked the sheet up to his chest.

  A smile cracked his face. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. Well, aside from ‘Fuck me Sean, harder.’”

  “You’re determined to get hit again, aren’t you?”

  “It’s the concussion. It makes me say crazy things.”

  “Are you lying to me again?” she asked.

  “Maybe a bit,” he admitted, moving the ice pack to the other side of his face.

  “Well, cut that shit out. I’m not putting up with that anymore.”

  He was still trying to figure out if he was dreaming this, too. He was convinced if she was still wearing clothes, this was reality. Reaching out, he poked her to see if she felt real. The poke was more like a soft touch on her arm. He removed the ice pack entirely so he could look at her with both eyes. Hope fluttered in his chest and he was worried that his head was still too fuzzy, but it sounded like she wasn’t as done with him as she’d been before.

  “So am I forgiven?”

  It seemed like forever before she answered him.

  “I’m getting there. I want to start over. This time, no lies.”

  “Deal,” he said. Damn it, if he was dreaming, he didn’t want to wake up.

  She put the ice pack over his face. “Let the medication help you. We’ve got all the time in the world.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Sean recovered over the next few weeks. Liz was happy to see that there weren’t any side effects from the fight other than slowing him down. She held firm to them getting to know each other as if it were from the beginning.

  “I mean it,” she told him. “Start with ‘I saw your Facebook post’ and go from there.”

  They traded texts and graduated to Skyping every day. No hanky-panky. Although, late one night, she “accidentally” called him while she had her vibrator out.

  He watched her perform without saying a word. But the next week, wouldn’t you know it, he “accidentally” called her while he was jerking off.

  It was an interesting twist, but it gave them both time to do things right this time. Because she was upfront about Jonathan, they had their first date, the three of them together, at the Bronx Zoo. After that, they included him on a date night once a week for dinner. Jonathan was thrilled because that meant he could have bacon on his pizza.