So I decided to try my hand and work for “the man”. I mean wasn’t this the kind of company that made America great?
I let my head bounce against the steering wheel in frustration. As much as I dreaded my cubicle job every day, I have to admit that this stung. I was disappointed in myself, and that didn’t happen very often. I glanced up at my apartment window. I wanted to go in and just plop down on my bed so that I could process this in peace. But the chances of me having the place to myself at this time of the day were slim.
Sure enough, just as I was considering getting out of the car, Jay leaned over the edge of the balcony, staring off into the distance for several seconds before his gaze shifted down to the exact spot I was sitting. I fidgeted in my seat, swallowed the lump in my throat and pulled out of the lot. I would drive around for a few hours until I knew Jay and Cooper would both be gone.
I turned up the radio as loud as it would go, rolled down all the windows and sped along the road, tapping to the music and shaking my blue head to the beat.
2
Jay was feeling more and more uneasy as the night wore on. This had been a terrible idea, and he should have tried harder to talk Cooper out of it.
“Are you sure you can trust this guy?” Jay asked.
“Yeah, man. I told you. He’s the one that got us the gig at Darden’s. I’ve known him since last year. He’s cool.”
“Then where the hell is he? We’ve been sitting here like lame ducks for over an hour.”
They were waiting in Cooper’s car, in the middle of some field with the parking lights on and the engine off. They could see the cars on the highway from where they were sitting, but Cooper assured him they wouldn’t be noticed. Jay wasn’t so sure.
Cooper burped. “Hand me another beer, will you?”
Jay reached into the cooler behind the seat and took out two beers. As long as he had to sit here with nothing to do but stare into the dark night and smell Cooper’s farts, he might as well lighten up a little. He handed Cooper a can and took a long pull of his own, then leaned back into the head rest and closed his eyes. This wasn’t the first thing he would choose to be doing tonight, but as far as Tuesday nights went, he could do worse. At least he wasn’t holed up in the apartment, hiding in his room from Izzy. He had come to hate the times when they were both home. Never before had there been so much awkwardness between two roommates.
Speaking of which…
“So, Izzy moving out next month?”
Cooper handed him a flask. Jay stared at it for a few seconds, but he knew better than to refuse it, or to point out that maybe Cooper should lay off the hard stuff since he was eventually going to have to drive them home.
“Nah. Didn’t you hear? She got canned yesterday from that fancy job of hers. She’s not going anywhere anytime soon.”
“She got fired?” Jay took a fortifying sip from the flask and winced as the burning fire of cheap whiskey flamed up in his throat all the way down to his stomach.
“Yep. But get this!” Cooper shifted in his seat and turned to face Jay. “Darden’s gonna pay her to open up for us this weekend. He says it’s a trial run, but if she’s any good, he’ll make it permanent. She can warm up the crowd for us.”
Jay wasn’t sure what was more surprising about all that – the fact that their fledgling band warranted an opening act, or the fact that Izzy was a singer.
“She sings?”
“Sings, plays the guitar, works the audience. She’s unbelievable. Only thing is, she doesn’t like it.”
Jay looked over at Cooper, no longer concerned whether or not his friend knew he was probing for information about Izzy – any information he could get. “What do you mean? Like me?”
“No, it’s not that she’s scared of performing. She just doesn’t like it. Something to do with her old man and bad memories or some such shit.” Cooper took a swig of beer, then dangled his hand casually over the steering wheel, his thumb making lazy circles on the can. “Izzy is mostly a ‘live in the moment girl’; that’s what I love about her. But when it comes to her family, she gets a little funny.”
“Don’t we all,” Jay mumbled.
“Hey, sorry man,” Cooper gave Jay a sympathetic look and Jay just shrugged. It wasn’t that he wasn’t devastated that his mom had just died a few months ago. It was more that he thought his life should feel much different, and nothing seemed to really change. Here he was, enabling Cooper with his bad habits; pumping him for scraps of insight into Izzy, and genuinely farting around with the band. He wasn’t taking anything too seriously; not his future, his current lack of a job situation, or the fact that he should at least try to communicate with his shattered father instead of ignoring him, pretending that anything in their family was normal.
The minutes ticked by, and they drank in silence. It was Jay who noticed the police cars first. They were still a distance away, having to travel a long winding path to reach the spot in the field, and their flashers weren’t on, but Jay knew without a doubt they were coming for them. Whoever this guy was that Cooper claimed could be trusted, he had sold them out.
Jay swallowed back the panic and glanced over to where Cooper was slouched over in the driver’s seat. He had only a split second to decide what to do.
He jumped out of the car and ran around to the driver’s side, flinging the door open. Cooper sat up, a little dazed, but he instantly snapped to attention when he glimpsed the headlights approaching fast.
“Get out,” Jay said.
“What?”
“Get out of the goddamned car, Cooper.” Jay yanked him out, not too gently. He didn’t have time to clarify the situation for his friend. “Go around the other side. Hurry up!”
Cooper scrambled out of his seat, and Jay slid behind the wheel. The only question now was, should he try to leave? It was unlikely the cops would chase them down; they were just loitering in the field. Had they been sober, and without open beer cans all over the back seat; had they had a good hiding place to stash the weed Cooper was attempting to unload; had all of those things been the case, the officers would come upon them and simply ask them to move on. Unfortunately, that was not the way it was. Jay knew that if they sat there and waited, their fate was sealed. If they tried to run, there was a small chance they may get away; but if they were chased, the trouble they’d be in would be multiplied. In addition to all the laws they were already breaking, fleeing the scene and drunk driving would be added to the list.
So he sat. Cooper was now completely lucid and he was swearing at Jay and yelling for him to drive. But listening to drunken temper tantrums was quite normal for Jay and he was able to tune him out.
In fact, Jay tuned out the whole scene. The next time he was aware of what was happening, he was riding in the back of the squad car, a stoic but angry Cooper beside him. And the strangest thought was playing in his mind. He wondered if his dad would notice him now. Twenty-three years old, and Jay was still seeking attention from his old man. Could he be any more pathetic?
3
Sunday dinner at the O’Donnell’s that week was a sullen affair. It was bad enough that we had the whole “marijuana-gate” incident hanging over the dining room like a depressing shroud. But when Jay dragged in a very hung-over, slightly green-tinged Cooper, more than half an hour late to the dinner table, you could have cut the tension in the room with a knife.
I cursed under my breath as Cooper took his seat beside me, and Jay settled in across the table. Jay’s eyes met mine. As usual, I couldn’t even fathom a guess as to what he might be thinking. So I shrugged and tried to concentrate on my food.
We ate in relative silence, or at least as silent as a rowdy Irish family who’s used to talking all at once, can be. Cooper’s older brothers, Shane Jr. and Tommy were not working or travelling this weekend, and his sister Michelle had driven down from San Francisco for a few days. It had been a while since the whole clan had been together on a non-holiday Sunday. If I had to guess, I’d say the homecoming w
as less coincidental and more of a direct order from the matriarch of the family. Evelyn O’Donnell believed that in times of need, family was essential; and if ever anyone was in need, it was her youngest son.
I had been friends with Cooper since my mom and I had moved in across the street when I was seven. My dad had just died, my mother had resolved to give me a normal childhood in the suburbs, and I was the new kid in the middle of the school year. The kids picked on me mercilessly. I was outspoken even then, and I didn’t have the tolerance for anybody who didn’t agree with me.
I had seen Cooper lots of times around the house, and we were at the bus stop together every morning. But he was a grade ahead of me and he never paid me any notice. One day, during recess, I had decided it was high time the older kids let me play kickball with them. I had watched for a long time and knew I could kick harder and run faster than anyone on that field.
I marched up to the pitcher that day, a boy named Stanley who was at least a foot taller than me and easily twice as wide. Hands on my hips, I proceeded to tell him that I wanted to play. He laughed in my face and told me to go play with the other vaginas. He must’ve just learned that word, because he thought it was the funniest thing in the world. I wanted to punch him, or at least stomp on his toe, but instead I chose to take the high road.
I told him that if I could get a home run my first try at the plate, he had to let me be on his team. He laughed again, but finally agreed, thinking he would not only be rid of my annoying presence in a few minutes, he would have something really cool to laugh about with his buddies.
I kicked off my mary janes and rolled up my sleeves. Stanley, that chubby little ingrate, threw the pitch before I even had time to set up behind the plate. I went for it anyway, my balance a little off, and I kicked that ball so hard it sailed over all the heads on the field, bounced off the building, then off some poor unsuspecting girl’s head, before rolling to a stop between left field and short stop.
I was already rounding third by then.
My feet were light and I could smell victory. I knew that not only would I get to play kickball every single day from that day on, the kids would also be talking about this moment forever. It would be the stuff of legends.
I was maybe five steps away from home plate, when my legs flew out from under me and I landed with a whoosh in the dirt, face first. I saw the red rubber ball and the hands that held it come down toward my shoulder, and I opened one eye to see the sand covered plate just inches from my head.
That fat Stanley had tripped me. He cheated and I was hopping mad.
“You’re out!” he screamed. “Now go play with dolls and wear pink or whatever you stupid vaginas do. This game is not for you.”
He turned his back to me. I rose to my hands and knees, spitting out dirt and plotting whether to take him out at the knees or go at him from the side and get in a good gut shot. But before I could stand up, Stanley was tackled to the ground by Cooper. I was so amazed, I fell back and sat down hard on my butt.
“Get off me, Cooper, you jerk!”
“You cheated,” Cooper said in a much calmer voice than his opponent. He was sitting on top of Stanley now.
Stanley was flailing his arms and crying, though Cooper hadn’t really laid a hand on him, other than knocking him over. “I did not! She’s out, fair and square. And the deal was she had to get a home run to be on my team.”
“Fine,” said Cooper, smacking Stanley on the head as he stood up. “She can be on my team then.”
And that was that. From that moment forward, Cooper and I were inseparable. And we never lost a kickball game in all the years that followed.
With Cooper, came his big wonderful family, and honestly, I don’t know how I would have survived without them. My mother worked three jobs to afford the rent on the house we lived in; but despite her efforts to give me a better life, I would have rather lived in our old dingy cheap apartment and spent time with her, than in that fancy ranch house she had to work so hard for. She was never around, so the O’Donnell’s took me in.
I had never missed a Sunday dinner in all the years I lived there as a child, and I hadn’t missed one since I’d been back. The rule was, if you were within an hour of the house, you showed up. But I was pretty sure Cooper was wishing he was very far away right about now.
Mr. O’Donnell sat stoically at the head of the table. Occasionally I caught him sending tentative glances at his wife, followed by a murderous gaze toward Cooper. He was likely planning to give a stern speech about Cooper and Jay’s latest brush with the law, but clearly Cooper was too hung-over to hear a word of it.
I tamped down my worry over Cooper and my discomfort around Jay, and dug in to my heaping plate. Sunday was the only day I ever ate well, and it would be a shame to let all that food go to waste.
I was piling on seconds of mashed potatoes and the most delicious sausages ever to grace any Sunday table, and readjusting my waistband on my skirt, when the chatter at the table finally began to pick up.
“I’m just saying, you should start building a portfolio. It’s never too early,” Shane Jr. was saying to Tommy. He worked in some kind of bank or investment firm – not the one I’d recently been escorted from – and he worked all the time. Tommy, his own mouth full of food, just rolled his eyes. He was not exactly the plan-ahead type. His business was selling ads in an online fitness magazine. He travelled a lot and worked strange hours. He was permanently in a state of jet lag.
“Dad, has Cooper lawyered up yet?” Michelle asked Mr. O’Donnell. “Because I work with this guy who said…”
“He doesn’t need a lawyer, Michelle. The charges are minor and whatever the sentence is, he’ll serve. I’m certainly not going to pay some asshole to try and get him out of something he clearly should be punished for.”
I saw Jay squirm in his seat across from me. He was actually in a lot more trouble than Cooper. He’d been charged with possession, intent to sell, and drunk driving, even though the car hadn’t even been running when they were caught. Cooper had only been slapped on the wrist for public drunkenness. He’d also been charged with intent to sell, though Jay continued to insist that Cooper was unaware of the drugs in the car.
Michelle’s eyes darted from her father to Jay. “Maybe my friend can help you out, Jay. Do you want him to call you?”
Jay shrugged. No one could ever accuse him of talking too much.
“He probably won’t get more than community service,” Tommy said, giving Jay a nod. “He’s never been in trouble. Now if Cooper had been the one sitting in the driver’s seat, that would have been a different story.”
Cooper’s head snapped up and I caught him wincing. “Shut the fuck up, man. Why do you have to say shit like that in front of Mom?”
“You’re the one dropping the f-bomb at Sunday dinner, you little turd.” Shane Jr. pushed his plate away and leaned back in his chair, his attention shifting away from his little brother to Jay. “They may let you off light, Jay, but I have a bad feeling they may decide to make an example of you. You could be looking at mandatory rehab or more likely, a few months in the slammer.”
“You’re an asshole, Shane,” Michelle threw her napkin down and stood up, collecting plates in one hand and smacking Shane in the head on her way to the kitchen.
“I’m only being real about this,” he called after her. “You all are in denial if you think this is going to be all neat and tidy. Hell, they could throw the book at Coop too. He might be in the cell next to Jay when all is said and done.”
The noise level rose several notches as everyone started yelling at once. I think someone might have even thrown a dinner roll and possibly a carrot or two.
When Mrs. O’Donnell stood, the room fell silent. Her expression was indiscernible and everyone seemed to be holding their breath awaiting her wrath. “We will help Jay in any way we can. He’s part of this family. So if your friend is really a decent lawyer, Michelle…”
Jay cleared his throat. “I can
’t let you do that, Mrs. O’Donnell, but thank you.”
She started to protest, but Mr. O’Donnell put his hand on her arm. “Just let us know if you change your mind, Jay. And be sure to tell us if there’s anything else we can do.”
Jay smiled. “As long as I’m allowed to keep eating your wife’s cooking, I think I have all I need. Thank you sir.”
Mrs. O’Donnell waved her hand in front of her face as if it were nothing, but I could swear I saw her eyes start to water. “Now who wants dessert?”
I helped clear the table and put on a pot of coffee while Michelle and Mrs. O’Donnell finished the dishes.
“You’re awfully quiet today, Izzy.” Mrs. O’Donnell looked at me with genuine concern. This woman was so dear to me, I wondered, not for the first time, how I had survived my most formidable years growing up without her.
“She’s having job woes,” Michelle chimed in. I gave her a withering look. Maybe I didn’t want to share that particular bit of information just yet. Michelle had no filter. We certainly had that in common.
I sighed. “It seems there’s no room for a blue-headed, outspoken pixie like me in investment banking.”
“You got fired?” Mrs. O’Donnell was outraged. “Because of your hair?”
I laughed. It really was quite ridiculous. After the initial sting of being escorted out of the building, I really began to see the humor in the whole situation. I had no business working there in the first place. Whether I had the skills to do the job or not, they were looking for mindless drones, and if there was one thing I was not, it was a mindless drone.
“Well, it may have started out because of my hair – apparently HR Gwen prefers blondes – but once I called her a cow, I think my fate was pretty much sealed.”
“Incredible.” Mrs. O’Donnell just stared into space. I knew she was genuinely concerned for me, but her mind was far away with worry over Cooper. I squeezed her shoulder to let her know I understood, and she gave me a lopsided smile.
The Duet Page 2