Unsettled
Page 3
3
I arrived at Legends a quarter past five. The cobblestone building was always a welcome sight. The white and green Heineken sign glowed in the window next to the entrance. Fond memories of all the great laughs Alex and I shared at Legends crossed my mind as I pulled open the wood and wrought iron door and stepped into the dimly lit grill. I let the chatter and the slightly dank smell of rainwater from the floor mats wash over me. The bar was considerably busy for a chilly Thursday evening.
Alex and I had been coming to Legends on Thursday nights for over two years and had an unofficial standing reservation. There weren’t any red VIP ropes preventing others from sitting in our booth, but Griffin, the owner, had jokingly suggested on occasion that we carve our initials underneath the table. Alex and I liked Legends because it reminded us of Blue Martini, a lounge back in Los Angeles.
Brandon, the bartender, was standing in front of the illuminated steel Legends sign waiting on two guys in suits. He caught my eye from across the room and tossed a wink in my direction. As I strode down the planked walkway past the sapphire pendant lights, I smiled and quickly waved to him.
I made my way to the back of the grill and shrugged off my peacoat before I settled into our booth. Alex cracked a wide smile when I sat down.
“What took you so long Brooklyn? I started to think you weren’t coming.”
“Of course I was coming. I’m the one who reminded you this morning, remember?”
“True, but I know how much of a douche Trent can be. Knowing him, he’d make you stay late at work just to alphabetize his coffee collection or some shit like that.”
“Hey!” I cried, feigning irritation and pretending to plug my ears with my fingers. “I thought we agreed that his name was banned in our fun zone,” I said, rolling my eyes and attempting to hide the smile creeping across my face. Martinis, thoughts of my douche bag boss, and my inability to climb the corporate ladder were all recipes to drink myself into an alcohol-induced stupor. Ignore, Ignore, Ignore.
“You’re right. I’m sorry Brooklyn. Here’s to your douche bag boss!” Alex playfully cajoled, raising her glass in a mocking toast while covering her mouth to stifle a giggle.
“Dang Alex, it seems like you’ve had your fill of martinis without me!” I teased while flailing my arm toward Lisa, our waitress, so that I could order a drink.
“I probably have; I told Lisa to have Brandon make ‘em strong tonight,” Alex immediately deadpanned and tilted her head slightly.
“Why, what’s going on…?” I asked, looking Alex directly in the eye and instinctively biting my lip. It was never good when Alex proclaimed she needed a stiff drink. Both of us were lightweights really.
“You know how stressed I get working at the firm. There is so much pressure, and I just pray that I passed the freaking exam! Every time I run into Morrison he uses our passing as an opportunity to quiz me with potential case scenarios and waits for my rebuttal. I am dealing with enough stress without having to make myself look smarter in front of one of the senior partners. I just have a lot on my plate, that’s all,” she sighed.
“You’ll be fine, I have faith in you. You killed the LSAT and blew through law school. I am sure you breezed through the bar exam. You’re super smart Alex” I said encouragingly.
I noticed that my pep talk hadn’t really spurred Alex’s spirits the way I had hoped.
“There’s something else that’s weighing on my mind, Brooklyn. I didn’t bring it up earlier because I really didn’t want you to freak out…” she said, sighing and wringing her hands. Red flags flew up, daggering the soft tissue of my brain. I felt the tension mounting in my chest.
“Spill…you are freaking me out,” I said, trying to keep my calm. I really just wanted to enjoy our night out, but based on Alex’s trepidation, that now seemed unlikely.
“Well, a few days ago Jay called me while I was at work...” she said, carefully gauging my reaction.
“And…?” I asked exasperated. I hated when Alex had to break news. Every situation turned into a national incident of detrimental proportions.
“Damon is coming to D.C. in a couple weeks…” she said in a barely audible whisper. Alex broke eye contact with me to rouse the pink infusion in her glass with the rock-candy stirring stick.
The minute Alex uttered his name I was pretty sure I stopped breathing for a second. I checked back into the conversation long enough to comprehend that Damon wanted to stay at our row house to spend some much-needed quality time with Jay, since they were best friends and all.
“I know how he hurt you, but Jay was hoping you’d be okay with him staying at the house. I told him I doubted it, but I thought I would check with you anyway. Brooklyn, did you hear what I said?” Alex’s question snapped me back into the present. Just then Lisa arrived with my martini in tow and placed it in front of me. Lisa had perfect timing.
“Thanks, Lisa,” I said.
I immediately took a sip of my drink to avoid flipping out. I stared back at Alex as I took another sip of my martini, letting the alcohol burn my vocal cords. I was having trouble coming up with something positive to say.
“Brooklyn?” she asked, again.
“Yeah, I heard you. Damon wants to stay at our place for a while; it’s not a huge deal Alex. We split up ages ago. I’ve moved on from him and I’m sure he has too. I thought you had something juicier to tell me, like Brandon hit on you! Now that would be news!” I let out a low purr and winked in an attempt to lighten the rapidly changing mood at our table. I could tell Alex didn’t believe me.
“I can’t change what happened with Damon, he left me. I am here in the great District of Columbia,” I fanned my hand in the air, for emphasis, “attempting to make a life for myself and that doesn’t include dwelling on my past.”
I sipped my martini again to mask my true feelings of sorrow. I wasn’t delusional enough to believe the web of deceit I was weaving for Alex’s benefit. I would never admit to her that I really left SoCal to escape all the memories of my relationship with Damon and the awkward chance encounters during the holiday season. It was embarrassing enough that a year after graduation, I was still shuffling clothes at Bloomingdale’s, the same part-time job I held while attending college.
“Brooklyn, don’t try to BS me. He shattered your soul. Don’t act like him visiting won’t bother you.”
I mustered up my best look of indifference. “Look Alex, all this crap happened a long time ago. It’s water under the bridge as far as I’m concerned. It wouldn’t be fair to Jay if I said Damon wasn’t welcome, that’s his family after all. I’d be a certified bitch if I said he should get a hotel room.” Although I secretly wished he would.
“There really is nothing else to say on the topic,” I said, I letting a fake smile form on my lips. After a few more awkward seconds, I began to drum roll my hands on the table.
“Let’s order another round and keep this evening upbeat before we both end up crying in a corner on D Street. Beating hobos away with a stick isn’t my idea of a good time! Aren’t we here to let loose?” I inquired smoothly, attempting to change the topic completely.
Alex cracked a small smile, and I could tell she was measuring my words thoughtfully.
“Yeah... I guess you’re right,” she said, nodding slowly. Her eyes turned from concern and began to regain their sparkle.
“Come to think of it, I seem to recall you promising to share the steamy details of unsaid late-night experimental trysts with one Jay Carter…” I said, raising my eyebrow.
“Oh…yeah!” she said, her face instantly lighting up like a jack-o’-lantern.
“Get to it then! We’ve just established for the umpteenth time today that my love life is practically non-existent. I want to hear the dirty details of your sex life so I can live vicariously through you!”
Alex took no time accepting my bait and surged into recounting her night of intimacy with Jay. By the time she got to the part where a swing was introduced into the role play
ing and Jay was moseying around in a hat yelling “YEEHA,” I had tears in my eyes from laughing so hard and picturing the whole fiasco playing out in their tiny bedroom.
After three rounds of martinis we decided to call it a night. I couldn’t drive us home since I had one too many drinks, and Alex was beyond her limit. Lisa offered to call us a cab and we accepted her kind gesture. We sat in our booth a while longer, babbling about insignificant nonsense. Occasionally one of us said something stupid that had us doubled over on our benches in snickering fits.
Eventually Lisa approached our booth to let us know that our taxi had arrived. Alex jumped out of the booth first, tipping slightly in her heels, causing her navy blue dress to swoosh at her knees. I was a little woozy myself, but I’d felt worse.
Alex called out to Brandon, pointing and making cheeky noises. “Until next time. Same time, same place!” she said, slurring slightly. Brandon looked at Alex and shook his head with a grin on his face.
“You guys get home safe!” Brandon called to us from the bar.
“We’ll be fine. See you next week,” I responded with a smile.
“Woo, I’m beat! It’s time to get some shut-eye!” Alex said as she shrugged into her coat and tossed three twenty-dollar bills on the table.
Alex walked ahead while I fished a ten out of my billfold for the tip. I scooped up my coat and buttoned it closed.
“When you’re mine…” Alex sang out in an impromptu rendition of Michelle Black’s When I Do. Alex’s unsavory crooning caused other patrons in the grill to eye us as if we were leapers. I did nothing but smile and chuckle in amazement at my dear friend. Alex never got embarrassed about her silly ways. She was pretty entertaining when tipsy. At times I wished I could be as uninhibited as her.
I stopped next to Alex and she locked her arm in mine. “Ready, Thelma?” she asked.
“As I’ll ever be, Louise,” I replied, playing along.
“You’re crazy, Alex!” I laughed out softly. Alex just shrugged and smiled. She continued to deafen anyone within earshot as we made our way to the front door.
As we pushed through the wood door exiting Legends, thoughts of Damon coming to visit filtered through my mind. On cue I brushed my fingertip over the tear that had unwillingly escaped my eye.
“Brooklyn, are you crying?” Alex asked, instantly concerned. It was amazing how quickly she sobered up when she thought something was bothering me; that was why I loved Alex to pieces. She’d always been one of my strongest support pillars, even if she was a lovesick meddler.
“No, I had a fab night, Louise! You know how my eyes water when the weather is chilly,” I said, matching Alex’s banter.
“Oh okay… yeah, you’re a regular water fountain during the winter months,” she said. She seemed to be contemplating my response but said nothing more.
With that we made our way into the waiting cab. As we headed home, my stomach was in knots. I had never lied to my best friend purely to save face.
4
I couldn’t breathe. I saw her below me. I couldn’t make out her face, but I knew she was someone close. Something was wrapped around her ankles, I thrust myself deeper into the darkness. The salty red water was all around me. Claps of thunder rang in my ears, but I plunged further into the bottomless abyss. Intense fear gripped my heart valve so tightly I thought it would burst, but I knew she needed me.
When I finally reached her, her eyes were padlocked shut.
Oh…God…no…
I wrapped my hand around her tiny wrist. She was so light—like a rag doll. Panic weighed me down as I flailed my body in every possible direction, trying to free her.
My teeth clenched as I seared in pain—the cramping in my stomach was overwhelming. I tried to scream for help, but the sounds came out in muffled gurgles. My lungs were barraged with overwhelming amounts of water. My body was betraying me. I was being overtaken by pain and my lungs were not absorbing enough oxygen. I fought with every swipe of my arm, trying to claw my way back to the surface with her in tow. All she needed was air, but the cord wouldn’t give.
I couldn’t breathe and my head was full of fuzz. I tried to push myself to the surface, but everything went black.
MY ALARM CLOCK JOLTED me out of my nightmare. I took a few deep breaths to calm my racing heart and settle my shaking limbs. I reached over and banged my hand around on the nightstand until I successfully disengaged the alarm. I sat up, and instantly regretted my decision. The light peeking through my curtains pierced my eyes and made my throbbing headache worse. When the room started to spin, I lay back down, running my hand over my chilly forehead. It had been awhile since I’d had that nightmare.
I slid further under my comforter. My stomach was queasy and I had a long day ahead of me. Although it was Friday, I hadn’t the slightest idea how I would make it through the entire day with a hangover.
I tried to lie still in bed, but my bladder wouldn’t let me. All of a sudden, I had the profuse urge to pee. As soon as I made it through my bathroom doorway my intestines started performing gymnastic moves, somersaulting repeatedly. Damn it! Why did I drink so much last night?
My morning breath was atrocious and I could still taste the remnants of last night’s grenadine and vodka on my tongue. Bile was churning in my gut and I knew that a profuse vomit was on the horizon. I instinctively closed the door behind me in an attempt to spare Alex and Jay from hearing my wrenching noises.
I leaned over the toilet with one hand on the wall for support; my eyes started to gloss over. My hair was falling into my face, but I didn’t care. I stood in front of the toilet for a few minutes in anxious anticipation. The skin on the back of my neck felt clammy. I reflexively clenched my teeth together in an attempt to keep myself from gagging.
As I recounted all the reasons why I really hated throwing up in my head, spontaneous projectile mayhem began. Every time I took a breath and my body contracted, one of the emotions I attempted to suppress with last night’s martinis rose to the surface like fleur de sel off the coast of France. After five minutes of heaving I was sure my sorrow, devastation, and unadulterated hate for the one person I had actually loved wholeheartedly despite his flaws was out of my system.
As angelic voices sang “Hallelujah” in my head, I collapsed to the cold tile floor. I hunched over near the toilet, resting my head against the wall. My hair was plastered to my face, courtesy of the cold sweat droplets that had formed on my forehead. Somehow I had also managed to get specs of vomit in my hair. I was nauseated further by the smell permeating from my shoulder. I tugged the elastic hair tie from my wrist to pull my hair into a loose ponytail behind my neck.
I was infuriated with myself. After all the time that had passed, I was still letting what happened with Damon affect me. I felt like an idiot for using my routine martini night to numb myself of my true depravity. I thought I’d given myself enough time to get over him—to get over everything—but my ingesting more martinis than socially acceptable on a weeknight proved otherwise.
The big fat scarlet F for failure loomed over my head as I propped myself against the wall. As I pondered the catastrophe I called my life, I heard a knock on the bathroom door.
“Are you okay in there, Brooklyn?” Jay said on the other side of my bathroom door. He was one of the last people I wanted to speak with at the moment. I had no issues with him, but I didn’t want to be bothered.
I cleared my throat to answer in the strongest voice possible.
“Yeah Jay, I’m fine, just had a bit too much to drink last night. You know I’ve never been able to hold my liquor well,” I said, freeing residual spittle from my throat. “I probably should’ve eaten more food before meeting up with Alex last night for drinks.”
“Oh…okay. Can I get you anything before I head out?” he said.
“Could you just turn on the tea kettle? I won’t be eating much today,” I replied sullenly. Could you also keep your dipshit cousin away from me? That would have been even more preferable.
“Thanks Jay. You’re doing me a solid,” I replied hoarsely.
“Anytime.”
I heard him retreat away from my bathroom door toward the kitchen. Alone, finally! My eyes started to flutter and my mind went dark as I nodded off into oblivion. Between my restless night’s sleep and my recent writhing over the toilet, I was physically exhausted.
I jumped abruptly when I heard the whistle of the teakettle through my bathroom door. The noise of the kettle was equivalent to having a freight train chugging and tooting along the track of my skull.
I pulled myself off the floor using the towel rack above my head for support. I swung the door open with irritation and dragged my weary body toward the kitchen, increasing my pace infinitesimally to snatch the kettle off the stove and stop the incessant screeching.
As I rounded the corner, Alex was lifting the kettle off the fiery eye.
“I see someone is in need of hangover tea this morning,” Alex said, putting her hand to her mouth to contain an escaping yawn.
“Yeah…you don’t seem to be affected though,” I uttered listlessly.
“Nope, I’m fine,” she retorted, slightly beaming. She handed me a mug full of Earl Grey and then turned back to the stove to prepare her own cup.
“Thanks,” I whispered, clasping my hand around the mug. “Well aren’t you just a lucky dog? I could definitely have done without the vomit session this morning.” I still had a little spunk left in me after my dreadful morning over the toilet.
“That I am,” she countered, tossing her megawatt smile in my direction and batting her lashes in an even haughtier manner. She blew her tea and took a few slurps. “I think I will even make a special batch of buckwheat pancakes and runny eggs. Doesn’t that just sound delish?” she asked with false timidity, placing her finger on her cheek as if she was in serious contemplation. Alex always found a way to turn my misery into comedy—at my expense, of course.