by Gwen Gavin
“God dang, Mike. This place is awful.” Jazz covered her nose as she moved from room to room, opening the windows and kicking the trash out of her way.
“I’m not going to apologize for being a shitty housekeeper.” I murmured.
The spinning of the room was starting to slow, and I was grateful. This was the hangover that wouldn’t stop, but I couldn’t function.
At first, that was entirely the goal. If I was too drunk to function, I couldn’t think about how the people I loved most in the world betrayed me. Alcohol wouldn’t do that to me. I could just numb it all away.
Somehow, Jazz was back with a big glass of water and some aspirin in her hand.
“Take this, Mike. And you will drink a lot more water. Thankfully, I had Benny send me over with some food, so you will need to eat something.” She kept her voice low.
I hadn’t noticed it before but the sweet smell of hot food was emanating from a paper bag on the coffee table. I groaned, half in disgust and half in hunger.
“It will not be fun. But you need food in your stomach or your just going to feel worse,” Jazz said. She helped sit me up, and I stared at her blankly.
“Why are you here?”
Jazz looked surprised. “My boss was missing for three solid days and your phone kept going to voice mail. Obviously, we had to make sure you weren’t dead.”
“Why you?” I wanted to sound smarter than that, but I couldn’t.
“Short straw,” Jazz said with a wry smile.
“Figures.” I tilted my head back on the couch. Jazz moved around the room, collecting the trash into a bag. “You don’t have to do that.”
She shrugged. “I’m not really in the mood to stare at you while you’re miserable. I feel better when I’m doing something. Eat please and I’ll get you more water. I made sure that you were alive when I got here and I don’t want to leave and have you make me a liar.”
“How did you know where I lived?” I asked without turning to look at her. I thought I was always good about keeping my private life private.
“Benny said that you lived in an apartment. There’s only two apartment complexes in town and I live in the other one. Plus, that nice lady downstairs pointed me in the right direction.”
I rubbed my face with my palm. The aspirin was working. The fog of the hangover hadn’t lifted completely, but it was better.
“Ugh. Now Mrs. Whitley will have a thousand questions and I don’t feel like answering them.”
“Ah, yes. She seems to know a lot about your neighbors.” Jazz said as she went to the kitchen to bring me another glass of water.
I opened the food bag and tore into the fries. They were just the right amount of salty for my dry mouth. I chugged the next glass of water that Jazz brought me.
“Feeling more human-like?” She asked.
“As much as I ever felt human like.” I grumbled.
Jazz knelt down to pick up the pieces of the invitation that I had torn into tiny bits and scattered across my living room. “It seems like I found the reason for this bender.”
I rolled my eyes. “What do you know about benders?”
She looked at me over her shoulder. “First, my parents named me Jazz. That says something about the way they raised us and I was a bartender in the Castro district in San Francisco. I can see a bender coming a mile away.”
I scoffed. “Why did your parents name you that?”
She shrugged. “Hippies, I suppose. Wanted to be different.”
“But your sister doesn’t have that weird of a name?” The flash of headache returned behind my eyes when I remembered the rest of the day that led to my bender. It probably wasn’t great that I made out with her sister in my office at the bar I owned and then disappeared for a few days. I’m sure that would go over smoothly.
“Appolonia? Yeah, I mean she gets off easy with a good nickname but she’s just as screwed as me on government papers.” Jazz scooped up the remaining bits of paper and card stock and dumped them into the trash. It was a relief to not have to stare at them anymore.
“Your sister’s name is Appolonia? That’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.” I shoved half the hamburger into my mouth at once. Benny could make a mean burger and I would have to thank him when I made it into the bar. Considering that he could still make this cheeseburger means that the kitchen was still standing so, they figured out how to manage without me.
Jazz stilled for just a second. “I don’t know how to talk to you about this…”
She might as well have pulled all the air out of the room. This was it. This was when she would talk to me about what happened with her sister and I wasn’t prepared for it. Hell, I was barely prepared to handle the next five minutes of feeding myself. I couldn’t deal with that right now.
“You don’t talk to me about it. I’m your boss. It’s inappropriate. Actually, come to think of it, this whole situation is incredibly inappropriate. You shouldn’t be here taking care of me and cleaning my apartment. You shouldn’t be talking about your sister in my living room. Nope. Not going to happen.”
Jazz took a deep breath and stared at something that I couldn’t see. She gripped her hands into fists and then relaxed them, doing it over and over again for a few seconds.
“Okay, I get that. But, can I just say something really quick? And then, we never have to talk about it again?” Her eyes looked at mine. She was serious with her mouth pressed into a firm line. I knew Jazz well enough that if I told her I didn’t want to hear it, she would walk out of my apartment and she’d understand.
Yet, there was something that made me want to reach out to her, give her the space to say her piece. I don’t know what it was. Maybe my defenses were down because of the drinking hangover or the emotional hangover from that damn invitation.
“Go ahead.”
She let out another deep breath. “Okay. I don’t care if you date my sister or don’t date my sister or hook up or whatever. I don’t care if you let her have her paint nights at the bar or you ban her from coming there. Do whatever you need to do. I like my job and I need it to make sure we can make rent every month. But, whatever you decide to do. Please upfront with Loni about it. She’s… I love my sister, but she can be difficult in her own way and I just want you to be honest with her.”
Jazz shoved her hands into the pockets of her jean shorts after she was done talking. Her shoulders were pulled up to her ears.
I thought about what she said. Even with my mind moving slower than syrup, I was trying to process it. I didn’t know what I wanted from Loni. Maybe it was nothing, but whatever it was. I owed it to her to find out before I ended up kissing her in the bar again.
“Okay. Yeah. I can do that.”
Jazz nodded. “Cool. Well, I’ll tell the guys you are alive and healing. Plug in your phone and I’ll see you later.”
She went to let herself out. “Thanks, Jazz. And I appreciate if we can keep all of this between us?”
Her smile was small, but she nodded as she placed three fingers pressed together in the air. “Scout's honor.”
And then she was gone, and the apartment was actually pretty clean. If I could shake the headache, it would be like the last three days didn’t happen at all.
Loni
Three long days of living in some sort of limbo.
I buckled on the second day, texting Mike something benign about the painting class he said that I could hold in the bar.
What’s a good day of the week for the class?
I thought it would be simple enough. It put the ball in his court about the kissing. He could ignore it and act like nothing happened or he could address it. Either way, I left the door of communication open.
It was the healthy and adult thing to do.
Actually, my sister told me that the real adult thing to do was to address the issue head on. Figure out what I wanted and either ask Mike for it or move on if I chose to.
In my heart, I knew she was right. Jazz was so frequently
right about this stuff.
But I didn’t want to talk to her more than necessary since I discovered that she destroyed my paintings.
After a few days, the sting from that had dulled though and there were only so many hours I could stay out of our apartment. I was waiting up for her with a cup of tea.
Thankfully, she came home around midnight as I was zoned out watching another episode of a British baking show on my laptop.
Her eyes lit up when she saw me laying on the couch, my laptop balancing on my chest. “Hey.” Her voice was soft, still testing the waters.
“Hey.” I met her eyes. It was more conversation and contact than we had in days. In truth, I missed my sister, but I didn’t want her knowing that.
“You’re still up?” She placed her keys on the ring next to the door.
“Yup. Made some tea if you want some.” I pointed towards the kitchen and paused my show. I closed my laptop and put it on the coffee table.
Jazz toed off her sneakers and made her way to pour a cup of tea. She sighed as she sank into the couch cushions next to me. Her body was probably aching from standing up and serving people all day, the same way that mine hurt after a long day.
If we ever hit the lotto, we’re going to get weekly massages for the rest of our lives.
“Long day?” I asked. I still didn’t know what to say. How do you bridge that gap that anger and sadness and disappointment had created?
“Yeah. You wouldn’t believe it.” Jazz raised her eyebrows. “But first, I want to say that I’m sorry. It really was an accident.”
My head had a dull ache. I think I was all cried out from the days before. The emotions had run their course. All I felt now was a somber sadness.
“Thank you for saying that. They meant a lot to me.” I couldn’t look at her while I talked, so I stared at the cup of tea in between my hands. She did the same.
“Maybe it’s time to make something new?” Her voice was quiet as she spoke, afraid that she would hurt my feelings all over again.
“Yeah, I think so. I didn’t realize how long it has been since I had worked on something that was for me. I was always so worried about making sure that I paid the bills that I hadn’t left any space for my own work.” I looked around at the bare walls. Even this apartment didn’t really feel like mine. I lived here. My stuff was here, but the walls were empty and I hadn’t bothered to hang up curtains, let alone the things that make me happy.
“I get that. I think you really, really want to prove to Mom and Dad and everyone else that you can make it on your own, that you got this. But, you’re losing your art in the process. I don’t like seeing that. I miss my crazy Loni, all covered in paint.” Jazz sipped her tea and smiled to herself.
I bumped my shoulder against hers playfully. “Hey, I still come home covered in paint. I’m just not creating the things I want.”
“Maybe you should. I could help you set up a studio space in the kitchen, maybe? Or on the balcony?” She looked around the small apartment. Her mind churning. Jazz was always the fixer. I loved her for it.
I patted her knee. “Not tonight. Tell me about your day. I’m tired and I need some funny stories.”
Jazz widened her eyes. “I’m afraid that I don’t have any funny stories tonight.”
“Why? What happened?” I pulled my eyebrows together. Jazz stories about failed first dates at the bar or a drunk who tried to make a pass at her had always made me laugh, especially how she told it, but tonight, her expression was serious.
“When was the last time that you heard from Mike?” She tilted her head away from me to look at me down her nose skeptically.
I could feel the color run from my face. I groaned aloud. We never got to really talk about that after I got angry about my paintings.
“Uh, it’s been a few days.” I gulped hard. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if I wanted to know what was going on with Mike. If he was being normal and happy at the bar, that meant that he was actively ignoring me. If I heard that he was sick or something, that might be something to give me hope. Did I want to feel hope? Did I want him to ghost me?
I didn’t know what I wanted to know next.
“So, have you talked to him since you maybe, might have, kind of kissed him?” Jazz raised her eyebrows suggestively.
I rolled my eyes. “Well, no. And I’m not even sure you could call what happened a kiss or whatever.” I shrugged. Maybe I could convince Jazz that I didn’t really care or that it really didn’t happen. If I could accomplish that, I could convince myself.
It was safe to hate Mike. It was easier to keep him there, just beyond my arm’s reach. Because, if I hated Mike, if I kept him there, I wouldn’t have to put myself out there and get hurt again. My history showed that I didn’t make the best of decisions. Maybe letting Mike in was just another bad decision.
“From how you were talking to me and the heavy breathing, I don’t think it wasn’t a kiss and it certainly was something more than nothing. I don’t care if you want to pretend that nothing happened, but we all know that something happened.” Jazz drank down the rest of her tea and smacked her lips together.
I studied my sister’s profile as we sat there. “Why are you always so wise, dear sister?”
She scoffed. “Please. You have seen my dating history. I’m far from wise. I’m a lonely lesbian in a small town. It’s not like I have a lot of options.”
I frowned. “So what are we? Just two idiots?”
“Maybe. Probably. Mike is a mess and you’re better off letting this one go, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t open your options, Loni. You could have something great with someone else.” Jazz smiled. I wondered if she was thinking about the woman from the other night.
I wanted to believe her. Just like when Mom and Dad would fight when we were little and she would hold my hand and tell me that everything would be fine. I wanted to trust that she knew things that I didn’t know, but something kept me from that blind faith.
“How do you know, Jazz? What if this is it? What if life is just a series of fuck-ups and messy relationships and disappointments?” My voice felt tight in my throat. I wanted to cry but nothing would come. The feelings just sat in my throat and heavy on my chest.
Jazz sat for a few breaths, staring at the empty cup in her hand, the dark dregs of tea on the bottom of the mug.
“I guess I don’t know, Loni. But, I have to keep believing in it. I can’t just float through life being a lonely old bitch for the next three quarters of my life. I have to keep trying. Maybe there’s not a soul mate out there for me, but there’s plenty of people who might be close. We could be happy together. I want someone to share my life with, my bed with, my happiness and my sadness.” Her face turned bright after her long day and I wanted to bottle up that hopefulness.
I leaned closer to her as if I could soak up her optimism by osmosis.
We sat quietly as I let her words roll over me and there was a quiet little song that started singing in my heart. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
“So, are you going to tell me about your day?”
Jazz threw her head back. “We will need something stronger than tea.”
CHAPTER NINE
Mike
“Glad to see that you’re back. The stomach flu can be a real piece of shit.” Benny saluted to me as we passed in the kitchen. I was walking out with my morning cup of coffee and he was walking in to start prep.
I raised my mug towards him. “Yeah, it really kicked my ass there for a while. Thank you for holding down the fort here.”
Benny smiled. “I told you, boss. We have things handled here. Maybe you could take a vacation sometime or something.”
I shook my head. That massive hangover was still lingering even after a couple days. I would have to thank Jazz for coming up with the stomach flu as a cover. I knew she was a smart woman that I could trust.
“Nah, I don’t know where I would go. I’m here. I like it here.”
Benny stopp
ed short. “Vacations are good for your mental health, man. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but they actually make you a better worker, work harder.”
I shuffled around slowly, moving my head too quickly still hurt. “Is this you trying to convince me you need a vacation, Benny?”
Benny chuckled. “Maybe?”
“You tell me what you need, man. I’ll make it happen.”
Benny’s smile took up his whole face. He wasn’t expecting that.