Summer Bender

by Jennifer Lucia

  “Jamie,” Logan said, blocking my way. “Jamie, look at me.” I looked up at him with shining eyes, and his own eyes softened. “Jamie, I was going to tell you. I hadn’t decided yet. I was definitely going to extend my stay here until the end of summer, that much I know. Who knows? Maybe you’d like New York.”

  I looked at him incredulously. “And then what? I’d be too in love with you by then that I’d pick up my whole life and just move to a strange city with you?”

  Logan sighed. “I mean, that’s a lot more logical than me moving here. I have a whole business to take care of in New York. You could tend bar or write anywhere. New York is even arguably better to do that stuff than Virginia Beach.”

  “Oh, so you think that your life and career is more important than mine?” I asked acidly, daring him to contradict me.

  “Jamie. Come on. That’s not what I said.” Logan held his hands out, silently asking me to take them. I ignored his gesture.

  “Logan, that is exactly what you said. Come on, you know that you think you’re above me. You think I’m after your money, you are so quick to jump in and correct people if, God forbid, anyone thinks I’m just a bartender, your mother obviously doesn’t like me. Come on, it’s almost comical,” I was full-on sobbing now and cursing myself for getting so worked up. “Look, Logan, it is painfully obvious that we are incompatible and this isn’t going to work out.”

  Logan’s jaw dropped. “Jamie, what the fuck are you talking about? I want to be with you, you want to be with me. That’s all that matters. Where the fuck is all this coming from? We can figure all this stuff out later.” He grabbed me by the arms, lowering his forehead to mine. “Come on, baby, let’s calm down and I’ll take you home.”

  He kissed me gently, ignoring the slobber oozing from my nose, deepening his kiss until it was a plea. A plea for me to reconsider, to accept what he was saying. I kissed him back selfishly, needing this, knowing this was the last time I’d allow myself to touch him. A sob wrenched its way from my throat, causing me to hiccup.

  I pulled away from Logan, avoiding his eyes. “Logan, I’m going to catch a ride home. Give my apologies to your mother for me and tell her I got sick.”

  “Jamie,” Logan begged. “You’re being a headcase right now. Stop to reconsider, please.” I shook my head, ordering a car on my phone. “Okay, I’m going leave you alone right now because you’re obviously worked up and need to calm down. But I’m coming over tonight and we’re talking things out.”

  I did the adult, brave thing, and I hid from Logan in the ladies room while holding back my sobs. I got the text that my car was outside waiting for me, and I quickly made my way through the dining room, praying Logan didn’t stop me. I got to the car undisturbed and slumped in the backseat. When I got back to my apartment and was greeted by silence, I realized with a sinking feeling that Luke was still at Logan’s hotel suite.

  I texted Dylan, hoping he hadn’t left for work yet, and asked him if he would mind dropping Luke off at my place. He texted back, saying of course he would, but why don’t I just ask Logan? I told him it was a long story, and he agreed without any further questions.

  Dylan got to my apartment with Luke and took in my teary face. “What in the hell happened, Jamie?” he asked quietly. I slid to the floor, letting Luke shower my face with kisses.

  “I think Logan and I are finished. I don’t want to talk about it.” I buried my face in my knees and tried not to cry. Dylan rubbed my back wordlessly. We stayed like that for a long while, until Luke started to whine from the lack of attention. “I think I need to take a long nap,” I told Dylan. “Thanks for bringing Luke back to me.” Dylan nodded and gathered me into a large hug.

  “Let me know if you need anything. Don’t hesitate to text or call,” Dylan said. I nodded, and he left. I locked the door after him and pulled the deadbolt.

  I threw on my pajamas, pulled Luke into a giant snuggle, and drifted off to sleep in my bed. I slept from three in the afternoon until eight in the morning the next day, sleeping blissfully and without dreams.

  I woke up the next morning to nine missed phone calls and twenty texts from Logan. I forced myself to read them, despite the nervous knot growing in my belly. The texts ranged in tone from bewilderment, to frustration, to anger, then, finally, to acceptance.

  Okay, fine, Jamie. You won’t answer me. But we’re talking when I see you tomorrow night. You’re going to tell me exactly what is going on in that head of yours.

  I considered answering this last text to tell him that we would in fact not be talking about it. My finger hovered over the keyboard, not knowing what to type. It lingered there until I lost my nerve. I tossed my phone into the laundry basket, wanting it out of sight.

  The thing is, I knew I was being a little neurotic and dramatic. I had a couple of trust issues that were a holdover from Derek. I also knew that I was definitely never going to upend my life for a man again. He actually thought my life was so unimportant here that I could just up and leave my friends? Logan had also lied to me- even if it were a lie of omission. Lies of omission were almost as bad as bald-faced lies, possibly even worse- they made a fool of me. Logan did not tell me that he had to move back to New York. He made it seem like he was here for the long haul. Then why did he live in a hotel room? The thought niggled at my brain, and I pushed it aside, ignoring that little bit of logic. There was also the small issue of Logan jumping to the gold digger assumption. I know, I know, he had apologized for it. But it had implanted a kernel of doubt in my brain. I knew that it would always be there in the back of my mind, that Logan didn’t really think I was good enough for him.

  I was dreading seeing him again, and there was no way he wouldn’t be at Bender’s tonight. I buried my face in my pillow and screamed into it, alarming Luke. He crawled over to me, sniffing at my face, then tried to make everything better with kisses. It didn’t work.

  I spent the next few hours lounging around in bed and watching television. I wanted to dull the melancholy by turning my mind off, and binge watching trashy television did just that. Whenever my mind drifted to Logan, I would start crying, so I tried hard not to think of Logan and how I had thrown a grenade onto our burgeoning relationship.

  My phone alarm went off from inside the laundry basket, letting me know it was time to get showered and ready for work. I cursed that phone alarm, then crawled out of bed. I made the mistake of looking in the mirror when I got into my bathroom, and immediately felt worse about myself. My eyes were puffy and red from all the crying, my hair looked like some forest creatures could take up residence in it, and there was a bit of dried snot on my upper lip. Maybe if I sent a photo of this to Logan, he would be more accepting of us being over. I laughed mirthlessly at the morbid thought, then turned on the shower until it was steaming hot. I stood under the falling water, letting the heat numb me and wash away all the snot and tears.

  I got out of the shower and dried off. I briefly considered putting on makeup and doing my hair, but dispelled the idea. Too much effort. I wrung out my hair, letting it air dry, and threw on jeans and a baggy tee shirt. I didn’t feel like being attractive to anyone tonight.

  I walked to work slowly, each step getting heavier with dread the closer I got to the bar. Bear was at the front door when I got there, and he looked at me sympathetically. I dare you to comment on my appearance. He glanced inside the bar and said, “You’d better go cheer up your man. He’s in quite the mood today.” I didn’t correct him, just grimaced and walked in.

  Logan approached me immediately as I stepped inside. “Jamie. I called and texted you a million times. We need to talk.” He grabbed my upper arm firmly, his mouth set in an angry line. I pulled my arm from his grasp, panicking slightly at the force. His face was immediately contrite. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-” He shook his head. “Jamie, you’re acting insane right now. We don’t have to figure anything out just yet, we have this whole month to decide what we want to do. I could always fly back and forth between
here and New York. Just talk this out with me instead of stonewalling me.” Logan grabbed both my hands, pleading.

  I curled my hands in his. “Logan, it’s not just that. It’s the fact that you didn’t even tell me this was going to be an issue. Maybe if I’d known you weren’t staying here permanently, I wouldn’t have started sleeping with you. There’s also the fact that you obviously don’t think I’m good enough for you.”

  Logan looked at me wildly. “What in the ever-loving fuck are you talking about?”

  “You accused me of being a gold digger,” I said.

  “Yeah, and I apologized for it immediately. I have had many women only interested in me for my money, I’m sorry if my years of experience influenced me for one split second. You’re letting your past infect us right now, and you’re being a hell of lot more hurtful to me than I’ve ever been to you,” Logan said, screwing up his face in anger. He took a deep breath and calmed himself down. “Maybe if you just think of this logically, we could work it out. You’re being stupid.”

  “Okay, you need to stop calling me stupid and crazy. If I’m stonewalling you, it’s because you’re trying to gaslight me. My feelings are valid, and you’re not going to tell me that I’m insane for having them.” I took a deep breath. “It is really obvious right now that I cannot continue to work here and keep my sanity.”

  “Jamie, please,” Logan pleaded. I turned around before he could see me cry, and I walked out of the bar and out of his life.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  I had, perhaps, made a rash decision to quit Bender’s on the spot. I realized I would be using a big chunk of my savings to pay rent if I couldn’t find a job over the next month, but there was no way in hell I would go back to Logan to ask for my job back. I tried not to think of the tough position I’d put Bender’s in by not having a replacement before I left, because besides the guilt, it made me think of Logan. I’d just have to get another bartending job at any of the dozens of bars at the oceanfront.

  Well, the idea was good in theory, at least. It turns out a lot of the bars around here are already fully staffed by the beginning of the tourist season, and none of them were hiring. I tamped down the panic and told myself not to think of it as being unemployed, but rather as taking a sabbatical to focus on my writing. That made me feel a bit better, but I would have to end my “sabbatical” by the end of summer if I didn’t want to completely deplete my savings account.

  The serenity regarding unemployment lasted about two days, and then I was back to full-on freak-out mode and frantically applying for bartending jobs at restaurants. I finally landed a serving job by the time August rolled around, at a breakfast place two miles from my house. It was perfect- I would go to work at seven in the morning and leave at three in the afternoon, and then have the rest of the day to write.

  Thankfully, I was writing again. I’d had some serious writer’s block that had lasted for two weeks after cutting off contact with Logan. All I’d wanted to do was mope and cry and eat entire gallons of ice cream. I laid around on my couch, watching reality television about women from New Jersey who were rich and horrible to each other. My jean shorts and tank tops became snug after the fifth consecutive day of a Rocky Road gallon, so I switched to sweatpants and yoga pants. I was comfortable, which made me happy, but then I remembered that I was wearing comfy clothes because I was getting chubby, which in turn made me cry. It was a vicious cycle.

  Hannah finally came over after the tenth day of fat pants, and saw me slumped on the couch with my belly hanging over the waistband of my sweats. “Okay, Jamie, enough is enough. You are going out into the real world.”

  “I don’t wanna,” I whined, pouting at Hannah.

  The pout didn’t work. Hannah forced me out of my sweatpants and into the shower. She sat on the toilet while I showered. “Don’t forget to use soap,” she reminded me.

  “I’m not a caveman, I’m using soap,” I lied. I quickly picked up the bar of soap that had been laying untouched on the shower rack. I lathered up quickly and rinsed my hair. Shampoo and conditioner seemed too big of an effort, so I didn’t bother.

  I got out of the shower and Hannah wrapped me in a large towel, then handed me a dress she’d picked out from my closet. “Wear this, it looks really good on you.” I obediently threw on the dress, towel dried my hair, and threw on sandals.

  “Where are we going?” I asked Hannah.

  “We’re going to a bar. Dylan’s going to meet us there, and we three are going to have a good time,” Hannah said, looking down at my legs. “Did you shave your legs in the shower?”

  I looked at her blankly. “Don’t press your luck.” She nodded and didn’t push the issue.

  We got to the bar and ordered a couple of drinks. Dylan met us soon after, and Hannah and Dylan tried to act like everything was normal. I moped and pretended to have a good time while Hannah and Dylan laughed together, trying to cheer me up. I appreciated the effort, and eventually I actually was having a good time. This was just the kick I needed to get going again and end my pity party- as soon as I overcame the massive hangover tomorrow morning. I laid in bed the next day, nursing my hangover and giving myself one more day of being lazy to recover. When I woke the next morning, I finished the second draft of my manuscript and started on the final proofread.

  While I worked, my mind wandered to thoughts of Logan. From what I’d gleaned from Hannah the other night, he had gone back to New York at the end of July, as planned. Dylan had stayed here, keeping the hotel suite occupied. Dylan had no ties to New York and had gladly taken over the interim manager position at Bender’s when Logan left. I strongly suspected this had more to do with being closer to Hannah and less to do with his love of restaurant management, but I kept my mouth shut. Hannah and Dylan were becoming close friends. I didn’t want to make it awkward for them, no matter how obvious Dylan was about the way he felt about Hannah.

  Dylan, Hannah, and I started hanging out a lot more often. I knew Dylan thought I was being stupid about Logan, but to his credit, he never mentioned it. I strongly suspected Hannah had warned him not to. Every time we hung out, we kept the mood light and avoided talking about my love life.

  I was lying in bed the third Saturday in August, finally finished with the (hopefully) last proofread of my manuscript. Now it was time to get to the hard stuff, the business aspect of publishing- which was what I was most dreading. Just thinking about all of it- marketing, publishing, reviews- made my head spin, and I was overwhelmed. I needed to think about this over ice cream.

  I got out of bed and walked to my freezer. My hopes were quickly dashed as I peered in. All that was left in my freezer were a bag of peas and some empty ice cube trays that I was too lazy to refill. I frowned and opened the fridge, hoping for anything chocolate. There were some rotting tomatoes, a nearly empty carton of milk, and some yogurt. I pulled the yogurt out- expired. Ugh. Time to go grocery shopping. This unfortunately meant that I’d have to put on some real clothes. I’d allowed myself Saturdays to lounge around in my fat pants, because Saturdays were devoted to writing. I cursed myself for not going to the grocery store on a Friday, when I’d been showered and fit for the general public.

  I briefly considered showering, but decided against it- who was I trying to impress? I threw my hair up in a messy bun, didn’t bother with makeup, and pulled on a maxi dress. I didn’t have any clean underwear left, so I went commando. Wearing a bra didn’t even cross my mind. One benefit of the extra seven pounds I’d put on is that my boobs were fuller, and they looked fabulous.

  I threw the basket on my bicycle and biked to the grocery store a mile from my house. It was the same one that Logan used to use. I had been avoiding going here, but this was the most convenient store for me to bike to, since the next closest store was six miles away. I glanced up at the storefront nervously, but shook it off. I was being silly. Logan was in New York. He was not coming back. The thought made me frown, and I shook this off too.

  I walked in, grabbed a
basket, and walked to the produce aisle. I figured I should supplement my giant tubs of ice cream with something nutritious so I didn’t get scurvy or something. I grabbed some lettuce, new tomatoes, and a cucumber. There. Healthy. I looked around at the rest of the produce, trying to visualize making meals with it, scrunched my face up, and headed to the frozen meal aisle instead. I picked up some diet TV dinners, dropping them into my basket. They had “healthy” in the name, they were basically health food, right? I turned down my favorite aisle- the ice cream aisle.

  I bee-lined past the frozen vegetables, going straight for the rows and rows of different frozen confections. I rolled my eyes at the low calorie options and went for the good stuff. I stood in front of the glass doors, weighing my options. Did I want chunks of brownie with fudge swirl or did I want rocky road? Oh, or perhaps chocolate cherry? Why choose only one? I swiped all three pints and added them to my basket. I was pretty proud of myself for choosing pints over gallons. See? I can be healthy.

  Satisfied, I turned to exit the aisle and saw a very tall, very familiar-looking man with black hair. His back was turned to me, and I did a double-take. That guy looks like Logan- God, I miss Logan. The man turned his face slightly to the right, looking between the frozen broccoli and the frozen cauliflower. That was definitely Logan.

  I froze, my mind going wild. Why was Logan here? Why isn’t he in New York? How does he look even more fit when I’ve gained seven pounds? I was suddenly very, very aware of my appearance and curled into myself, trying to make myself as small as possible.

  I turned tail and scurried to the ladies room down the aisle, dropping my basket on the floor outside the bathroom before I went in. Okay, it was a bit of an overreaction, but I really wasn’t ready to face Logan yet after over a month of no contact. What would I even say? I paced around the bathroom, occasionally peering out from behind the heavy door. This is stupid, he’s probably already gone. An old lady entered the bathroom and stared at me like I was crazy. I smiled at her, and she scurried into an empty stall, doing her business quickly and leaving even more quickly. I paced around, waiting about a half hour before leaving the bathroom, picking up my basket, and heading to the self-checkout area. I glanced around nervously, but didn’t see any sign of Logan. I just wanted to get in and out as quickly as possible, not wanting him to see me if he were still here.