She spotted a deli across the street. “Aha.”
The light changed and Jamie dashed sideways across Sixth Avenue. Her sandals slapping on the wet asphalt.
She arrived at the deli as the monsoon picked up pace and stepped inside with a jingle from the door. Suddenly it was quiet.
Jamie looked down. Her pale green dress was now dark green and clinging to her body. Her hair was pasted to her face. Her sandals, filled with water, made a splork sound as she walked.
She glanced over at the grey-haired, Italian-looking deli owner behind the counter.
He shrugged like What are ya gonna do
“Lookin’ good,” he said.
Jamie nodded her thanks and walked over to the Linden’s cookie section to make it appear she was there to buy something.
And as she stepped around the corner, past the Twinkies and the individually wrapped Coffee Cake Juniors and into the cookie aisle, standing right in front of her was Penny Langston.
“Oh,” Jamie said, startled. “Hi.”
Penny was also soaking wet. But looked sexy as hell - in a silk blue v-neck dress. The dress clung to her, revealing what Jamie had never noticed before, was an incredible body.
Penny was casually holding a soggy cigarette.
“Ah, Jamie Brennan,” Penny said, “Because one hopes to run into people in this state.”
Jamie smiled. “You too?”
“I made the mistake of walking to the newsstand to buy cigarettes.”
“Ah. Bad timing.”
“Very.”
They stood there in an awkward silence. Penny smiled politely. Then looked down.
Jamie broke the ice. “I just popped by your office. Dropped off some chapters for you.”
“Lovely.”
They both looked at each other.
They started sentences at the same time.
Jamie first.
“– How are –”
“– Well I should go –”
“Oh,” Jamie said, embarrassed. “Of course.”
“Jamie, I’m sorry - I’m not in a great mood,” Penny said. “It’s been a bit of a day. I’m not much company.”
She paused like she wanted to say something. But didn’t.
“I should get back to work.”
Jamie glanced towards the door. The rain was still coming down in sheets. “Out there?”
“Unfortunately.”
Penny looked up on a shelf and spotted a display of something called Wacky Packages.
“What on earth are those?”
“Better not to know.”
Penny nodded.
Another pause.
Jamie decided words would be better than this awkwardness.
“So what did you think of the pages I gave you last week?”
“Oh - they… Right. A good start.”
“Not great though.”
“I’m not sure, Jamie. I’m not really good at giving notes in the neighborhood delicatessen.”
Jamie felt her face get red.
“Of course.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be… I don’t know what,” Penny sighed.
Penny listened to the distant sound of the rain pouring onto the sidewalk out on Sixth Avenue outside the deli.
Connie. A flash of helplessness pinged in Penny’s heart. She couldn’t shake remembering where Connie was. Fucking Hayvenhurst.
This whole world had gone sideways. And now even worse, here was Jamie Brennan. Whom she felt at the moment irritated by because she felt attracted to.
They both stood there in the silence.
Penny could hear an old lady up at the cash suddenly intone. “HOW MUCH IS THE JUICYFRUIT?!”
“Jamie, I don’t know what you think,” Penny said, flustered. “I’m just - this isn’t - ”
“I’m sorry? I don’t think anything.”
Penny thought of plunking her soggy cigarette on the shelf, then realized maybe that’s rude. She glanced around at the deli. The clock by the front. The shelves of cookies. And now this tension she wanted gone. It was obvious, wasn’t it?
“Jamie, look. I’m not available.”
This was so out of the blue it made Jamie’s head retract.
“—What?”
“I’m not available, so please don’t-”
“Yes. I heard the words,” she said. “What are you talking about, Penny? I never said I was interested in you in that way.”
Penny knew every word she said was making her life worse. And it was true. Jamie Brennan had said nothing. It was her. All in her mind. All in a look or a smile.
Suddenly she felt like a complete fool. She hadn’t misread. It just hadn’t been said.
“No. I know. You didn’t.”
Penny’s heart started racing. She felt awkward and clunky. As exposed and socially maladroit as her second day at Radcliffe. When the world was new and different and terrifying.
Jamie brushed a strand of wet her out of her eyes. That quick smile. “Penny, I’m not sure what’s happening here.”
Penny felt like the deli walls were closing in. It was like Edgar Allen Poe. But in a deli. Her heart was pounding.
“I’m going to go.” Penny said. She gave a quick exhale. “I’m just - I should go.”
“Are you sure? This isn’t - ”
“It was nice to see you, Jamie,” Penny said politely, as she made her way past her to the door of the deli.
“Uh… You too.” Jamie said. “Such fun. Let’s do it again soon.”
Jamie turned and watched Penny open the door of the deli and step out into the driving rain. The door closed and jingled.
Jamie turned back to the Linden’s chocolate chip cookies. Her face burned with embarrassment. Penny had seen somehow. She knew.
“What the hell just happened?”
Back at the office, Penny lit up a cigarette from her brand new pack of Virginia Slims and sat down at her desk.
She had mostly dried off. And, insult to injury, now the sun had come out in a perfectly blue sky outside the window over Sixth Avenue.
She had a grateful puff of the second cigarette in ten months and let the smoke fill her lungs, then exhaled the smoke and tapped the edge of the cigarette on the little glass ashtray on her desk.
Fuck it. Back to work. Penny glanced at the contract in front of her. Three book deal. $375,000. New author. Hot writer. Hers.
Work. Just focus on work. The thought occurred to her- how could she be so adept at this - and be so terribly bad at the rest of life?
Fine. She had said it. Maybe it was rude but it had to be said.
Hopefully, now this Jamie Brennan thing was over. The truth was, it was unprofessional. The truth was she was married. The truth was she had no desire for a life with another woman and everything that would mean.
And the truth was her best friend Connie was in a fucking mental institution.
The truth sucked.
33
“Whooo, baby! Look at you in that wet dress!”
“Mama, you win the wet t-shirt contest!”
“Mmmmmm mmmm gimme some a that!”
After a soggy bus ride down 5th Avenue, the sun had irritatingly come out. And now it was hot and steamy and sunny on East 10th Street near her apartment. And Jamie Brennan was getting cat-called.
She responded with:
1.Ignore
2.Ignore
3.The finger.
She rounded the corner of 10th and University, slipped the key in the downstairs door and let herself in. She then stomped up the stairs to her apartment, her feet slipping because her sandals were still wet.
At the top of the stairs, she opened the door to her apartment and the smell of garlic and tomato sauce filled her nose.
There in front of her, the best thing that had happened to her all day. Bridget Dwyer. She was leaning against the counter in her kitchen, in cut-offs and a tank top. Hair up, drinking a beer and smiling at Jamie.
“Hiya, love. Ya said you didn’t mi
nd.”
“Are you kidding? This is great.”
The feeling of coming home to Bridget in her kitchen was comfort and ease.
“It’s nice to see you,” Jamie said. “My day has been less than stellar,” she smiled.
“Thought you might like some pasta.”
Jamie slipped off her sandals. She let her eyes find Bridget’s, which made them both smile. There was something so perfect about them. This appreciation of each other. This easy warmth.
“Beer?” Bridget said. “I picked up a six at the deli for ya.”
“Careful, I might get used to this…” Jamie laughed.
Bridget pulled open the handle of Jamie’s little fat fridge, with a yank that made the bottles clatter.
She fished a bottle of Budweiser out of the fridge, closing the fridge door with her hip, then reached on the counter, grabbed the opener, and flicked the cap off. She held beer out to Jamie. Looking at her soaking wet clothes.
“Was your meetin’ under a waterfall?”
Jamie took the beer. “Thanks. Yeah - I think it was. Look - I’m just gonna pop into the bathroom and change.”
“Ach, Jamie Brennan,” Bridget laughed. “We’re all girls. It’s not like it’s nothing I haven’t seen. Don’t worry I’ll be able to contain myself.
Jamie stepped into the bedroom area in the back of the apartment, just beyond the kitchen. It consisted of her cozy queen sized bed under the exposed brick wall. And an antique chest of drawers she and Lynette had carried all the way home from the place on 23rd Street.
She glanced into the kitchen area. Bridget leaned against the kitchen counter.
Bridget had a sip of her beer and grinned. “So a crackin’ day then, was it?”
“So check this out. My editor - who I think hates my work - hated my latest work.”
Jamie kicked off her soppy shoes, reached back, unzipped her dress and peeled it slowly down over her hips.
Bridget had eyes on Jamie, “Yeah, I was wrong. That looks pretty good.”
Jamie slipped herself out of her wet bra. “Oh, really?”
Bridget raised an eyebrow.
“You make me gay?”
“I’m working on it,” Jamie laughed.
She reached into the drawer and slipped on a thin green tank top, then shimmied out of her underwear and grabbed a fresh pair, slipping them on. Then she slid on a pair of blue drawstring shorts.
“You’re a cracker, Jamie Brennan.”
Jamie smiled. “Bridget Dwyer you are so gorgeous and sexy, you saying that to me is crazy.”
Jamie flipped her still slightly damp hair up into a bun. She walked over to Bridget who handed her the cold bottle of beer.
“This is exactly what I need. Thank you.”
Jamie tilted the beer to her lips. It was cold and refreshing going down. She closed her eyes and drank away the embarrassment with Penny. Irritated that it still irritated her.
“I’m not available.” Jesus. What a thing to say.
Jamie plunked the bottle on the counter and wiped her mouth.
“God, that’s good,” she said. “Oh and check this out too - my editor thinks I’m in love with her or something.”
Bridget’s eyebrows raised. She let out a little laugh. “Well, that’s news. Are ya?”
Jamie shot her a look. “Of course not.”
“You can be.”
“Why are you saying that?”
“I’m saying don’t say you’re not cause a me?”
Jamie watched Bridget casually have a sip of her beer and smile.
Jamie felt anger flare. “What does that mean?”
“Wait,” Bridget said. “I didn’t mean to make you mad...I mean… y’know, I’m not thinkin’ we’re anything.”
“I didn’t think you did.”
Jamie felt tears spring into her eyes out of nowhere. “Oh my god, ” she said quietly. “What did I do to get rejection number two from nowhere?”
She had a sip of her beer and they both just stood there. An awkward silence fell around both of them.
“Look, Jamie, I didn’t mean…”
“It’s fine. I get it. Don’t feel anything for you. I understand. Let’s eat pasta.”
“Jamie, I didn’t mean it like - I meant it as much for me.”
“I don’t care. It’s fine.”
“Look, Jamie - ”
“Bridget, I said it’s fine.”
Jamie leaned against the kitchen counter with her arms crossed.
They stood there in an uneasy silence. Bridget walked over and stood in front of her. She spoke softly. “I just meant - ”
Jamie wiped a tear away. “I get it. This isn’t what you want. I’m not what you want, “ she sighed. “You’re hurt by fucking life and in grief and life totally screwed you over and things suck and you’re here cause you’re lonely and I’m whoever you need for now. I get it.”
“Is that what you think? That’s not true.”
Jamie felt two years of anger and frustration and trying flare up in her - Trying not to feel. Trying to forget. Trying to write. Trying to go on after that horrible night.
That night.
“Is there someone you want me to call? Your parents? A boyfriend?”
The nurse with the gap in her teeth standing over Jamie’s stretcher in Emergency. Helping. But not answering her one question - “Her... is she okay?”
Jamie looking up at the ceiling and saw Christmas decorations in the E.R..
“Is there someone you want me to call?” the nurse had said again.
It was 12:30 a.m, just starting Christmas Eve day, Christy would be asleep in Rye. And if she did come into the city and go to St. Vincent’s hospital right now, she’d have a heart attack seeing Jamie’s like this.
But Christy wasn’t on her mind. It was the other her.
“Is she okay?” Jamie asked again.
“Who can we call for you?”
Finally, Jamie got out the name ‘Lynette Reyes’. And the nurse must have let her fingers do the walking in the white pages because thirty minutes later, Lynette was standing over her in Emergency. And the look on Lynette’s face revealed the horror that Jamie felt. What Lynette must have seen. Her beat up face. The blood in her eyes. Her distorted broken hand.
“James, it’s gonna be okay,” Lynette had said. “It’s gonna be okay.”
But everything in her face said otherwise.
Jamie placed her beer down on her kitchen counter. Suddenly she felt weary down to her fucking soul. She looked at Bridget.
“Bridget, y’know what? Do you know what I went through? I wasn’t mugged. I was beaten. And the girl I was with she wasn’t beaten she was…” Jamie stopped herself, her toes right at the edge of the cliff.
“What…”
“Forget it.”
“Jamie…”
Her eyes peered into Bridget’s.
“Do you know how ridiculously scared I am to be open enough for this? I am afraid constantly. My every fucking waking moment is terror. Who needs Son of Sam? And y’know what’s weird? I take some terrible comfort in the fact as horrifying as that serial killer is - that New Yorkers all know now. What I feel. Something is around every corner. Something bad could happen at any time. Because it did,” she said. “And I know that you, Bridget, of all people, know what that’s like. But do you know what it takes for me to be open enough to be with you? So please don’t tell me how you’re not going to love me when I fucking don’t remotely love myself and I don’t know if I can ever even love anyone anyway.”
Bridget’s eyes softened. “Jamie... ”
Jamie had a sip of her beer. Her heart pounding.
She sighed. Rubbed her eyes. Today sucked.
“And all I keep getting today are these bizarre rejections from people to whom I have never expressed romantic feelings.”
“Jamie, I didn’t mean it like that.”
They stood there in silence. Jamie listened to the sound of the kitchen clock.
/>
Finally Bridget broke the silence.
She flashed a little trial offer of a smile. “To whom?”
Jamie felt a smile curl on her lips that she didn’t want to feel. “Shut up.”
“You’re pretty fancy. With them fancy words.”
Bridget pulled her in, wrapping her arms around her. “Aw, Jamie Brennan…with that heart a yours.”
Jamie let herself be hugged. Finally slipping her arms around Bridget. Her head resting on her shoulder.
The warmth of their bodies pressed together, Bridget holding everything of Jamie. All the broken parts. The longing for something. The hurt. The past.
In that moment, Jamie felt completely safe for the first time in more than two years.
Bridget kissed her on the forehead.
“You’re the fuckin’ best person I’ve ever met, Jamie Brennan. I’d never want to hurt you.”
Jamie wanted to stand here being held by Bridget Dwyer forever.
Bridget leaned in and kissed her. “Hang on.”
She walked to the stove and gave the pasta a stir. Then she turned the element off and lifted the pot over to the sink where she poured it into a waiting colander.
Jamie watched, amused. She wiped a tear away and picked up her beer bottle.
“You found the pots and pans I see.”
“Yeah, and your old high school yearbook,” Bridget laughed. “But we can talk about that later. Nice hairdo.” she said.
Bridget twirled the tap and ran the cold water, pouring the pasta into the colander, then dumped the pot in the sink, and gave the colander a shake.
She plunked it down in the sink and wiped her hands on her shorts. She turned around and looked at Jamie. She raised an eyebrow.
“It’ll keep.”
“Meaning?”
Bridget smirked at Jamie. The Bridget Dwyer self-confidence, with enough playful in it to be intoxicating, never off-putting.
She kept eye contact with Jamie while she hooked her thumbs into her t-shirt and lifted it up over her head. Revealing a sexy, lacy green bra, her breasts spilling over. She was like a lingerie model crossed with a female superhero.
“Good God,” Jamie said with a little laugh.
“Yeah, that’s how I feel about you.”
Bridget walked over and looked into Jamie’s eyes. Taking her beer out of her hand and placing it on the counter.
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