24
Fateful Friday
CRYSTAL
It’s been two days since I’ve heard from David. I’ve kept busy with a few hours reading at the library and more museum visits, so I don’t go completely crazy that the few texts I’ve sent have gone unanswered. I convince myself that things in California must have caused him a bunch of extra work, so I try not to pay much mind. Then again, on Monday on the Ferris wheel he said there was this ‘thing’ on Friday night, tonight, that he wanted to take me to. It’s now Friday afternoon and no word.
Had I done something wrong? Or was he actually the ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’ type? I hadn’t gotten that vibe at all, but… I gave in, put out, and now he’s gone. And not only does my head and heart miss him, but my body does as well. The way we connected… I never knew sex could be like that.
I settle in with my TV and my new Netflix subscription to watch a show Cara and Trent recommended, Stranger Things. After a couple of riveting episodes which were a great distraction, I’m feeling a bit hungry and wonder what I’m going to do. I’m assuming that whatever ‘thing’ David had in mind for tonight was now a ‘no-go.’ In fact, I’m assuming that David and I are a ‘no-go’ at this point as well.
Around five-thirty, my cell phone chimes, and I grab the device like it’s a lifeline convinced it’s David finally getting back to me. I see it’s Lainey and am more than a little bummed, however, it’s nice to know people care. Are you still moping? Or did David finally get back to you about tonight? And if he hasn't gotten back, can I rip his balls off?
I laugh in spite of myself. She really is an awesome friend. Not moping. Catching up on Gossip Girl, I message back.
Right away, the three balls jump around signaling she's replying. Then the message pops up. Same as moping. Take a shower and meet me for dinner.
She texts me back an address to a place called Big Nick’s on Michigan Avenue, and we agree to meet at seven o’clock.
I take a shower and get dressed trying to get excited about going to dinner with a friend. I like Lainey and that she reaches out to me, and she does so in a way that doesn’t make me feel like a pity invite, the way Heather’s invites sometimes did. Millie and Cara both had messaged a couple of times over the past couple of days, but I politely declined their invitations, and they’ve not pushed.
I almost send David another text, or even call him, but I don’t want to seem desperate. If he’s done with me, I don’t want to come off as a needy stalker type. If he’s busy with business things, and if his apartment is any indication, he’s a very successful businessman which undoubtedly takes a lot of hours. I don’t want to jeopardize any of his business.
Besides, we only met a couple of weeks ago.
Yet, it feels like I’ve known him so much longer. I’ve never been with someone I’ve felt so comfortable with from the get-go. Which only makes me feel worse for having been false with him. And now knowing what happened with Leo all those years ago, I know that I have to be honest and have faith in people.
Walking up Michigan Avenue, I decide that I’m also going to tell Lainey a few more honest things about myself, like my real name, and hometown… that I grew up in a trailer park, and we’ll see what else comes up. I hope practicing telling my story will make it easier when I tell David.
I get to the restaurant fifteen minutes earlier than what Lainey and I agreed on, and it’s already packed. Then again, it’s Friday night. I spot a table in the bar right up next to the window freeing up, and I quickly make my way there to claim the spot. The window is great because maybe I can spot Lainey walking up the street.
There is a lot to watch on the street. I notice the hotel right across the street where there’s a red carpet on the sidewalk complete with paparazzi, film cameras, and vans with local TV station logos pasted to the side. There’s a large banner featuring logos of many businesses that I can’t read from this far away, under a title that reads 14th Annual Sixty-Five Roses Gala. Limos are lined up, and people are getting out of their cars with a flurry of flashes before they walk over to the backdrop. I study the scene intently wondering if they are celebrities.
Then I see something that has me frozen.
David. Wearing a tuxedo. Whoa. He looks amazing. He stands tall straightening his jacket while he smiles and waves at the cameras. He reaches into the limo and pulls out a woman—a tall blonde with big boobs who is made up like a real-life Barbie Doll, complete with a glamorous and sexy black dress that’s cut down to her belly button. I don’t want to believe it’s David, but from every angle and the bright flashes illuminating his sparkling eyes and dazzling smile, I know it’s him. He stands with the blonde at his side who is holding his hand, and David stands there smiling and looks as gracious as ever.
My heart drops into my gut, and I feel sick. That’s why he hasn’t called. Did he meet her in California? She certainly looks like she could be from there. I’m not good enough. I’m not exciting. I look nothing like that girl he’s with. I’m a far cry from glamorous. My body looks like a shoelace compared to the girl he’s with. And she looks rich. Well, I’m rich, too—now at least. But David doesn’t know that. And no matter how much money I have, I’m not that rich.
David turns and ducks inside the doors escorting the Barbie, and the photographers are on to the next limo.
“Welcome to Big Nick’s. My name is Dana,” says a perky waitress. “Can I get you something to drink while you wait for your date?”
My date. There will be no date for me, I cry inwardly, the pain in my heart radiating through every limb. I need the pain to stop. I grab the tent card on the table and order the first cocktail I see. A cosmopolitan.
She smiles and is off with a promise to be right back.
I stare at the continuous flashing of cameras wondering what is going on and why David is there when it hits me. This is that ‘thing’ he was talking about. Was he going to bring me to a media frenzy? He must have had second thoughts that I wasn’t good enough. That could have been me standing there getting my picture taken with David. I’m not sure I would like having all those cameras in my face, but standing next to David, I would have felt like I could handle anything.
It feels like forever before the waitress brings me my pink cocktail, and I ask the waitress to bring me a second one… “For my friend,” I tell her. She winks at me and heads off.
With humiliation and hurt coursing through my veins and pushing the small warning voice in the back of my head telling me not to drink this concoction, I pick up the martini and take a tentative sip. It’s sweet, and despite the burn from the alcohol, I take a couple more mouthfuls, and I start to feel a warming in my throat and belly.
I hope that like Alice’s elixir, this sip will make me shrink into the smallest of creatures and fade away.
I turn over all the reasons in my mind about why I wasn’t good enough for David. Looks. Confidence. Maybe I shouldn’t have talked about books so much. Maybe I should have talked about shopping—not that I knew much about labels and the sort. Maybe, no definitely, I shouldn’t have gone to bed with him so damn quickly.
The waitress returns with the second drink, and when she disappears, I drain the first cosmo and start to suck on the fresh one. I watch the continued parade of tuxedo and beaded gown-clad couples at the door across the street, but in my mind, I keep seeing David and Barbie Doll.
I don’t know why I’m surprised. I knew the first time I met David that I was way out of his league. That’s why he tested me. Taking me first to that fancy restaurant, and I didn’t know most of what was on that menu. And then on the boat—alone. Maybe he was holding hope but didn’t want to be embarrassed if I made more stupid moves, and no one would be there to witness David’s lame choice in girls. And then the music festival. I probably humiliated him in front of Chip and Mr. Goodman. Last week was a trial. I failed. He took me back to his place for a ‘goodbye fuck’—a two-day ‘goodbye fuck’ with a trip to Navy Pier where he was dressed unrecogni
zably. And now here I am. Alone. Drinking.
Drinking.
I realize things are looking fuzzy, and my brain feels fuzzy.
“Hey, Tali!” A familiar voice bleeds into my thoughts. I turn to see Lainey and instantly feel like bursting into tears.
“Hey, sweetie,” she says, and her expression turns to worry. She hugs me quickly and asks, “What’s wrong?”
I can’t speak. How do I choose words to cover my shame?
Lainey sits and waves over the waitress. The two chat a moment then Lainey turns her attention back to me. “Okay. Speak,” she commands.
Apparently, when I’m ordered to, after a drink or two, I do what I’m told. And I tell her what I saw.
“David. With a woman. On the street righd out there. She’z zo glamorous.” I hear the slurring in my words and am horrified. I’m my mother. I feel like going home. To Harton. I miss home. I know the rules there. Here, nothing is the way it seems.
“Are you kidding me? I’m gonna rip that man’s balls off! He doesn’t text you for two days, and he’s out with someone else?!”
“She’z preddy but didn’t look too smart,” I add before the bar starts to feel really warm and turn sideways.
“Whoa. I gotcha,” Lainey says, wrapping her arms around me. “What do you say we just order some takeout at home,” she suggests before I feel myself being walked out of the crowded and really steamy bar.
25
Hung over
CRYSTAL
When I wake up, my head is pounding, and my mouth is as foul and dry as a filthy sock. I open my eyes but close them quickly, the light in the room feeling like a bat to my head. With my eyes closed, I push myself slightly to sit up and feel like puking right away. I clasp my hand over my mouth and suddenly hear Lainey’s voice.
“Hey. I’ve got a bucket here.” I feel her hand wrap around my back and push me forward a bit, and I throw up violently.
When I’m done, Lainey urges me out of bed so that I can brush my teeth. She stands with me every moment and hands me a large glass of water and a couple of Tylenol. After tucking me back in bed, she asks quietly, “Can I get you some toast?”
My stomach rolls at the mere thought of food, and I pull the covers over my head.
The covers move to the side of me, and Lainey slips in next to me, tugging the covers down. “Okay, no food… yet. But I’ll tell you something. No man is worth doing this to yourself. Ever. He’s not worth it.”
Her words bring the humiliation I felt at seeing David with that Barbie Doll to the front of my mind. “Oh my God,” I groan, tears welling in my eyes.
“Oh no,” Lainey scolds me. “Absolutely, no tears. If anyone is going to cry, it will be that douchnozzle. Wait until I get my hands on him.”
I turn and look at my friend. “I know it’s stupid that I just met the guy, but I really liked him. I just wish I could have been good enough.”
“Listen here, Talia Jameson, you are good enough.”
As she says my ‘name,’ I remember that I was going to come clean with Lainey and my name not wanting to risk my friendship because of a few white lies. “Crystal,” I say, quietly.
“Is that the girl’s name? The one he was with?”
“No. That’s my name. My real first name. Talia is a nickname, I guess.”
“Talia’s a cool nickname. Wanna know my real name?”
“It’s not Lainey?”
She shakes her head. “It’s Elaine,” she announces. “I’m named after my grandmother, and I’ve gone by Lainey forever, so there wasn’t confusion between her and me.”
“Oh,” I say. I want to tell her all my secrets. Why I am using a nickname. Where I’m from. Why I don’t drink and why the drinks hit me as hard as they did. I feel like a bad friend keeping it all from her. Lainey is my closest friend, and I don’t want her to think I’m a loser and drop me like a hot potato. Drop me like David did. So, I keep quiet. Baby steps.
“I’m sorry about last night and thank you so much.”
“No worries whatsoever, hon,” she assures me, hugging me tightly. “If I ever found out Lance was cheating on me, it would have been you tucking my passed-out body in bed. But it would have been more than two Big Nick’s cosmos.”
“What time is it?” I ask.
Lainey looks over my shoulder at the alarm clock and says, “Shit. It’s three-thirty. I have to… hey! You should come with!”
“Three-thirty? I’ve slept all day? Have you been here all day?”
Lainey smiles at me kindly. “Yes. You were in a bad way. Passed out cold as soon as we got into your apartment. Had Sergio help me carry you up.”
“Oh God,” I groan and roll over to hide my face in my pillow.
“Don’t sweat it. Serg is cool. C’mon. Let’s get you showered, and then you’re coming with me tonight.”
“Where?”
“My mom and dad’s. My Aunt Kristi will be there, too.”
She’s really inviting me, a hung-over, heartbroken, trailer-park girl, to her parents’ house? My heart swells with the love I feel from a new friend. But I can’t go to a party. Not with a hangover. And not with a broken heart. And, oh, right. She doesn't know about my growing up in a trailer park.
“Isn’t Lance going with you?”
“No. He's on stage tonight.”
“I’m not really going to be good company, but thank you for the invite.”
“Nonsense. Once you take a shower…” she says with a slight sniff in my direction, “… you’ll be as good as new.” Lainey pats my leg, and I hear her words as if they are my own, and I’m talking to my mother. No. I am not my mother. I vow never to drink again.
“You’ll see. Join the living, and you’ll feel better.” Lainey peels back the covers and urges me to the shower.
26
The Dawning
CRYSTAL
I don’t know how she did it, but Lainey convinced me to come with her to her parents’ place for some ‘welcome home’ soirée for their return from a two-week trip to Paris.
Dressed in an outfit Lainey laid out for me, the Uber car Lainey called drops us off on Astor Place in front of a huge brick home—a single family home, not an apartment building. A wrought iron fence surrounds the home that is accented with delicate trees, flowering shrubs, and cheerful flower beds, all of which seems so out-of-step with a massive city like Chicago and its impressive skyscrapers—an oasis right in the middle of the city. Lainey tells me that we’re in the Gold Coast area of town and looking around, I can totally see why it’s called that.
We enter through the gate onto a large patio, and then Lainey opens the front door like she lives there, because, well—she used to.
Once inside, I’m stunned by the marble floors and massive staircase that curves along the wall to the right. I can see Lainey walking down in her prom dresses and the photos that would be magazine worthy.
Navigating around the staircase, Lainey escorts me into a grand scene, and I’m stunned into silence as we are presented with a massive and eclectic open space that serves as a living room, another smaller seating area, and a dining room. The room has a dozen or so people chatting all around, and I hear gentle jazzy music under their chatter, but my focus is all on the fabulous architecture and décor. Everything resembles something out of a magazine—one of those magazines that my co-worker back at the electric company, Tiffany, used to leave in the break room.
“Miss,” a woman in a maid uniform holds out a silver tray with champagne flutes.
My stomach lurches at the mere thought of alcohol.
“Can you get us some water, please, Annabelle?”
“Of course, Miss Lainey,” she replies with a smile and swiftly heads off into the apartment. I feel my mouth drop open realizing that Lainey’s parents have a maid. Wow.
Lainey pushes my chin up, closing my mouth and says, “I’ll be right back. I gotta pee.”
I’m left gawking, with my mouth closed, at the most incredible room I�
��ve ever been in. Well, the second most incredible. David’s place was equally impressive, just very different. While his home was ‘modern-rich bachelor,’ this home is what I might call ‘old-world wealthy.’ Maybe I should consider an education in interior decorating.
The ceilings in this room are very high making me feel small, but the area isn’t unwelcoming at all. I walk through the main seating area with its overstuffed sofa in front of a massive coffee table. I casually check out the short stack of coffee table books sitting neatly in one corner. The top one is about Paris. I wonder if the Bartolucci’s bought this one on the trip they were just on. The middle book is about modern art. And the bottom book is about wine. Quite an interesting collection. A large laugh brings my attention to the smaller seating area where two very handsome men sit in a pair of brown leather chairs with a brass-topped table between them. Behind the chairs is a giant piano. The fancy, shiny black kind. The kind on stage in a concert, I imagine. I wonder who plays in the family or if it’s just for show.
In the alcove on the other end of the room is the dining space featuring an enormous solid wooden table with fourteen chairs neatly tucked in around it, but I’ve never seen dining chairs look so comfortable. They have tall backs of brown leather accented with brass nailheads, and the seats look like… brown and white cowhide? An odd combination one would think, but it works so perfectly.
Then there are accents around the room that add to the old-world feeling like a bronze horse up on his hind legs standing three or four feet tall, and artwork, both old and new, and some that looked like they may have been Lainey’s work from her elementary school days.
As I marvel at everything, Annabelle returns serving me a cold glass of water on her silver tray. I take it and thank her. She smiles warmly and tells me to ask for anything I’d like before she disappears as silently as she arrived.
Win for Love Page 22