Unpredictable

by Shantel Tessier

  I fall down onto my bed, still dressed in my bloody cop uniform. I’m too fucking tired to give a shit at the moment and throw my hand over my eyes to block out the sunlight that has my headache pounding. A soft purring sound reaches my ears before I feel the soft fur of my cat rub up against my side. I reach out my free hand and pet her. I sigh as my cat, Puss Puss, lays down next to me. It’s crazy how unpredictable life can be. Three hours ago, I was covering up someone’s child on the freeway. Now, my best friends just told me that they are expecting their own.

  *****

  KATHERINE

  “I’m sorry,” I say as I look over at my friend in the driver’s seat. I swallowed what pride I had left and called her to come and pick me up from jail. As soon as they placed me in a holding cell, I realized that I had to meet her to pick up my bridesmaid’s dress today. I missed my appointment, but since I explained it to her, she offered to come and pick me up.

  “No worries,” Missy says with a shrug. “But don’t think you’re off the hook,” she says giving me a side glare. “I wanna know exactly what happened. How in the hell did you end up in jail?” She pulls her lip back in disgust. “It had to have been awful.”

  I rub my sore wrists. My back hurts as well from that cop’s knee. Hope his nose hurts for days. “Some bastard with a badge had something to prove.” The guy really needed to stay the hell out of my way. I could have handled it all on my own.

  “Did Rollin get arrested as well? Or just you?”

  I breathe a heavy sigh. “We both did.”

  She chuckles and I narrow my eyes on her. “I’m sorry,” she says throwing up a hand. “I know it’s not funny. But it kinda is.” She giggles. “Who bailed him out?”

  “Don’t know. Don’t care.” I lean my head back on the headrest and close my eyes. “The last twenty-four hours have been a total disaster,” I mumble, before throwing my arm over my eyes. I’m still dressed like a hooker, but only now, I have grass stains on my top and shorts from the cop who shoved me down in my front yard. So, now I just look like a dirty hooker.

  I’m sure the neighbors enjoyed the show. Not the first, and I doubt it will be the last.

  “Well, start from the beginning,” she says as she turns down my street to my house. The house my father bought brand new fifteen years ago when we moved here from California. It’s an older home, but it looks classy, and it’s in an upscale neighborhood. The kind of neighborhood where you see kids playing in the streets on a Saturday afternoon. And early morning runners on the sidewalks. It looks like it belongs on the cover of one of those old-time magazines.

  I moved out when I turned eighteen and went off to college and earned a bachelor’s degree in science at the University of Oklahoma. After graduating, I remained in Oklahoma to work. But two years ago, I got a call from my father. He had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, and I was on the next flight back to St. Louis. The following week, he put the house in my name.

  “I want everything in her name,” my father’s says as he speaks to the attorney.

  “Dad, you don’t have to do this…”

  “Katherine.” His voice raises, and I shut my mouth. My father is a strong man, but I can see him start to crack. But what do you expect when you’re told that you’re going to eventually forget everyone who means the world to you?

  I sit up in my chair and reach over to him, running my hand down his back. “Okay, Dad. Whatever you want to do.” I turn to face the attorney and nod my head.

  “The beginning?” Missy gets my attention.

  “What?” I blink a few times.

  “I asked you to start from the beginning. You can’t keep me in the dark,” she whines.

  Missy pulls into my driveway, and I bite the inside of my cheek when I see the side of my Chevy truck. I took a baseball bat to it. I did that! Why? Because I clearly wasn’t thinking. I wanna say that at that point in time, I was at my all-time low, but it’s not. I’ve been lower, if you can imagine that. I’ve never been one to think about the consequences of my actions. I just act, and I don’t pride myself on that. But I’m like my mother. She was that way. Did what she wanted when she wanted. She was also a bitch. I got that from her, too. Lucky me!

  “Holy shit!” Missy screeches as she slams on the brakes. My body jerks forward, only stopping due to my seatbelt. “What in the hell happened to your truck? Were you in a wreck as well?”

  “No,” I say, opening the passenger door. “I hit it with a baseball bat.” A few times. I just couldn’t stop. It felt so good to let all of my anger out.

  “What?” she says slamming her door shut and following me to my front door, almost tripping over her feet as she continues to stare at the once pretty perfect truck. “Why would you do that?” she asks wide-eyed. “And the tire?” she asks pointing at it.

  I open the door, knowing it was unlocked. The cops don’t really give you a chance to lock up your belongings when you head-butt them. “Knife,” I inform her.

  “Were you attacked?” she asks following me into my home.

  I would call it that, but I don’t think the St. Louis police department would see it that way. Most men have a God complex to begin with. They think they fucking own the world. Give them a badge and a gun, and well, you can pretty much fall to your knees and ask sir what you can do for him. Makes me want to vomit!

  “Geez,” she hisses as she looks around my home. Glass on the floor. The small loveseat is turned over from when I shoved Rollin into it and he tumbled over with it. There’s a couch cushion on the floor as well. This is why I don’t have nice shit. I always fuck it up. It’s what I do. I’ve been told that I have intimacy issues. I say I have issues with stupidity. And that’s exactly what Rollin is—stupid!

  “Rollin and I got into a fight,” I say as if it happens often, which it does, and she knows that.

  “No, shit!” I don’t think I’ve ever heard Missy cuss so much in the two years that I’ve known her. “I figured that the moment you called from jail and informed me that you had both been arrested.” She runs a hand through her blond hair as she continues to take in the house with wide eyes.

  “Why do you seem so shocked?” I ask looking down at the puddle on the coffee table. The same puddle of water leftover from Rollin’s water that I turned over earlier.

  “I’m shocked that you’re still alive,” she says matter-of-factly.

  I plop down on my couch and run a hand over my face. “I’m fine.” I look around my house that was spotless just twelve hours ago. “Most was self-inflicted,” I inform her waving my hand in the air. “And some of this is from my dad as well.” I hadn’t had time to pick up the picture frames that he had broken when he fell down my stairs. I had gotten into a fight with Rollin as soon as I returned home from the hospital and then I had ended up arrested. Go me!

  “How is he doing?” she asks softly, sitting down next to me and trying to avoid the pieces of broken glass. This house is hazardous at the moment.

  “Not good.”

  She’s quiet for a few seconds before she speaks. “Is he sleeping?” Her eyes look over at the stairs that lead upstairs. The one place he isn’t supposed to go. The one place he never goes, but he did last night. I know why he went up there, and it makes me sick. When my parents were still married, back when I was little, we lived in a two-story house in California that overlooked the ocean, and their room was upstairs. I still remember going up there to find my mother out on their balcony drinking her morning coffee and watching the waves roll in. She seemed so happy, but it was all an illusion.

  He must have been thinking about her. He must have been living in the world where they were in love and still a happily married couple. It makes me sick to my stomach that he can still feel so much for her, and she probably doesn’t even think of him.

  I shake my head. “He’s in the hospital.” I place my hands on my knees and push myself up to stand. “I need...”

  “Oh, no. What happened? Did Rollin hurt him?” she asks in
a rush.

  “No. He fell down the stairs last night. So, I had to rush him to the hospital this morning. Then when I got home…” I gesture to the front door. “Rollin was here. We got into a fight and I tore up some more shit,” I say looking over at her. “Then the cops came and I got arrested.” I make it sound like a typical Saturday morning.

  She looks me up and down slowly as if she just realizes I’m a mess. Missy is a great friend, but she’s quiet. She keeps what she feels to herself. That’s where we differ. I usually speak before I think. Whereas, she’s that friend who will tell you you look great even if you look like shit. If you’re looking for a confidence booster, she’s great. But I’m not. And I couldn’t care less what others think of me, friend or not.

  “What do you need me to do?” she asks as she stands from the couch as well.

  “Nothing. You’ve done enough. Thank you.” I reach down to pick up my purse that lies on the floor beside the couch. Most of the contents are scattered from when I threw it at Rollin’s head, but my wallet is still inside. I pull it out and grab the cash out of it. “It’s not much,” I say, turning to her. “I can give you more when I get to an ATM later.”

  She looks down at my hand that has about thirty bucks in it. “What is it?”

  “Cash. For coming and getting me,” I say. I know how much she has going on in her life. She’s getting married in two weeks to her fiancé, Tate. I’m sure she would have much rather stayed in bed with him than come and pick me up from jail. I have to offer her something.

  She chuckles as she takes a step back. “I’m not taking your money. I came because you needed me.”

  “Take it,” I demand. She plops down on the couch and crosses her arms over her chest. I sigh as I throw the money into her lap. I almost smile when she dusts it onto the floor as if it were some lint.

  I sit back down and reach down, taking off my heels. I seriously can’t feel my feet. They went numb hours ago. Thank God for that. I lean back onto the couch and close my eyes with a sigh. “I need a bath.” I feel dirty. I am dirty. Just knowing that Rollin was in my house makes me want to burn it to the ground. Wouldn’t be the first thing I’ve set on fire because of a man. But I wouldn’t do that to this house; the house that my father was so proud to buy us. Back when it was just him and me.

  Have you ever loved someone but not been in love with them? That’s how I felt about Rollin. I loved him to the point that I physically hated him. He didn’t cheat on me, well, not that I know of. People just grow apart. And it was time to go our separate ways. Sometimes you just find that one person who brings out the worse in you. Rollin was that guy for me. He made me an ugly person. I may be a crazy bitch, but that doesn’t mean I like it. I once told Missy this and she asked me why. The only answer I had was that I’m not gonna hide what I feel. What I am. I would get mad over such little things with Rollin. Even from the beginning, it wasn’t pretty. But, somehow, we made it two years. I think we were off more than we were on, though. I guess I just wanted to be with someone. Someone to come home to who actually knows who I am. On my father’s best days, he still doesn’t know who I am. And that hurts. To love someone who doesn’t recognize you is horrible. When that person is the one who raised you, it’s even worse. Heartbreaking.

  “Do you think he’ll come back?”

  “Huh?” I look over at Missy.

  “Do you think Rollin will come back?” she repeats.

  “No,” I say matter-of-factly.

  “But he was here earlier,” she reminds me and my skin crawls.

  “But I beat his ass.” A few kicks to his dick and a few punches to his face should keep him away long enough for me to… I groan. “Don’t let me forget that I have to change the locks today.” I should have done it days ago. But with work and my dad it fell to the back burner.

  “Are you going to call someone?” she asks.

  “No. I’ll go to Lowe’s and get new locks and change them out myself.” How hard can it be? Some screws and a screwdriver.

  She turns on the couch so she can face me. “Why don’t you let Tate and his friends do that for you? You need to just go upstairs and get some rest.”

  “I can’t.” I stand from the couch, needing the movement. If I continue to sit there, I will fall asleep and I have too much shit to do today. “I gotta shower and get back up to the hospital.” I had planned to take a nap earlier, but jail changed that for me.

  She stands as well and sighs. “I’ll help clean the house while you shower.”

  She bends down to grab a couch cushion. “Missy…” I grab her arm stopping her. “Thank you.” I pull her in for a hug. “Thank you.” I pull away. “But I’m okay. I made the mess, I can clean it up.” I’ve been cleaning up messes all of my life. This one is no different. At least this one was my fault.

  Her big blue eyes shine, and she gives me a big smile. “If you need me for anything, just give me a call.”

  “I will,” I say as we start to walk toward the door.

  “I mean it,” she says, brushing her blond hair back from her face.

  “Scout’s honor,” I say lifting my hand and giving her a fake smile. I close the door behind her and look at my messy house. “Fuck it,” I mumble as I head for my bathroom.

  *****

  I love the smell of hospitals. I love the coldness they make you feel. I know, I’m crazy. Most people hate hospitals. But that’s only because they are there for a loved one. People associate hospitals with sadness and sickness, but I work in one. And I like that I get to help people. I know, most everyone I have ever met thinks I’m a bitch. And that’s okay because I am. But I love to help people. I love knowing that I made a difference. Even if that difference is minor.

  “Hello, Katherine.”

  I smile up at Dr. Robert Jones as I walk the floors of the hospital in my scrubs. I’ve been an RN in the ER here for almost a year now. And I love it. Everyone is like their own family here.

  He comes walking up to me. He’s a pediatrician and a real nice guy. “Hello,” I say with a small nod.

  He comes to stop in front of me, and I start to walk around him when he softly touches my upper arm. “I was… I was wondering if you would like to go out and have dinner with me?”

  Well, crap! I’m not into dating at the moment. Especially someone I work with. “I don’t know…”

  “I checked your schedule. You’re off next Wednesday.” And that’s why. They know all your business. Work and home.

  “Please?” he begs, and I refrain from rolling my eyes. A guy who begs is like a dead fish—useless. “Just dinner.” He smiles showing off his dimples, and I find myself smiling back. “Sure,” I say and already regret it. Grow some balls, Kat.

  He smiles proudly at himself. “That’s great,” he says as I gave in a lot quicker than he thought I would. I should have stood my ground. Oh well, it’s just dinner. I gotta eat. “I gotta run,” I say, starting to step away. “I’ll see you later.”

  He nods and turns to finish walking as well. I go through a set of double doors and then I’m walking on the sky bridge. I look out through the glass to the city. It’s nighttime. When I decided to become a nurse, I knew that very second that I wanted to work the night shift. I’ve always been a night owl. The only thing was that when I was with Rollin, he worked days, so he was able to stay with my dad at the house overnight. My father is still in the hospital but will be released soon, so I’m gonna have to hire a nurse who can stay at my house the three nights a week I work.

  I walk through another set of double doors and then go down a set of stairs to the cafeteria. I need caffeine. After Missy had left my house this morning, I showered and came straight back to the hospital. I stayed with my father in his room and took a short nap on the couch in his room. I got up with enough time for him to eat dinner and then it was time for my shift to start. It’s gonna be a long ass night, and I need some fuel for me to make it through.

  “Kat?” Another ER nurse I know by the nam
e of Renee calls out my name the second I enter the cafeteria.

  I walk over to where she sits with three other nurses. I don’t know them that well, but I find myself sitting down to get off my feet. They are still killing me from wearing my heels for so long earlier.

  “What’s up?” I ask through a yawn.

  Renee frowns. “Tired already?” Her light brown eyes search my face.

  I nod. “I came to get some caffeine then I’ll be good to go.”

  “So, I want your opinion on something,” she says, and she gets an evil smile on her face.

  “Shoot,” I say.

  “So I was bragging about the guy I hooked up with last week…” You should know something about Renee. She is a nympho. And I don’t say that word often. I love sex. Who doesn’t? But I’m pretty sure she should be in Sex Anonymous or something of that nature. Because she has sex all the time. And it’s always with someone new. It’s her addiction. “…and Stacy asked if I had him shower before I went down on him.” She tilts her head to the side as she points over to a nurse who I’m guessing is Stacy. “I asked her why would I have him shower before sex?” She laughs as she repeats the question. “Stacy, tell her what you said.” She continues to laugh.

  I look over at Stacy, and she lifts her shoulders. “I don’t know why it’s so funny. It’s important to shower before foreplay and sex,” she says, nodding her head to herself.

  “Why is it?” I ask genuinely curious.

  She lets out a long sigh. “I told her that I make my boyfriend clean off his penis before I will even touch it.”

  What adult says penis? It’s called a dick. Cock. Penis sounds so….childlike. “But why? Just use a condom,” I suggest.

  “Condoms are overrated,” Renee says. “I’ve used maybe one this year so far.” It’s May. And like I said, she sleeps with probably five guys a week.

  “Good God woman, use condoms,” I say looking back at her. “I’m gonna get pregnant just talking to you.” Everyone laughs out loud.