“That’s amazing!” She gave me a high five. “You must be over the moon!”
“A little bit.” I grinned. It was hard to feel good about anything with Mercy still gone, but at least this was a step along the road to getting her back.
“What are you going to do?”
“What do you mean?”
“To celebrate.” She said it like it was obvious. “You want to go to Reckless later tonight?”
Reckless was one of the gay bars downtown. I’d heard of it, but never been there. Since I worked weekend nights, I didn’t have many chances to party. Not that that was on my mind. I’d had Mercy so young, I’d never had the chance to get into partying.
“How could we?” I asked, leaning on the bar. “We’re working.”
“They’re open until five.”
“Ahh…” The strip club closed at two. “I guess maybe we could stop by after we close up. I’m usually dead tired by the end of my shift.” I made rapid mental calculations. I didn’t have to work at the grocery store on Saturday, so I could sleep in. And obviously I wouldn’t have to pay for a babysitter.
“Let’s do it.” Ginger brushed her hand over mine. “It’ll be fun. You need to get out and let loose from time to time.”
“I’m a mom. Letting loose isn’t my first priority.”
“But it could be one of your priorities, if you let it be.” She quirked an eyebrow at me. “All you do is work, girl. It’s not healthy for anyone, mom or not.”
“I already agreed to go, you don’t need to convince me.” Noticing a customer approaching, wallet in hand, I turned away from her. “Are you inviting any of the other girls?”
“Nah, it’ll just be you and me.” She stepped away, giving me a goodbye wave. I nodded back and gave my attention to the customer.
By the end of my shift, I’d convinced myself that going out was a good idea. It could be fun to try something new. And who knew? I might even meet someone.
I’d avoided any serious dating since Mercy was born, but I’d had an occasional hook-up and one friend with benefits. It’d been a long, long time since anything like that had happened. I still had no intention of dating, since I needed to focus my attention on getting Mercy back… but a physical release wouldn’t hurt.
“Ready to go?” Ginger asked, adjusting her purse on her shoulder as I cleaned up the bar.
“Yep.” I finished quickly and grabbed my own things. “One shot before we go?”
“How about two?”
We slammed them back quickly, then grinned at each other. It was odd to see her fully dressed. She wore a tight tank top and skinny jeans with knee-high boots, and she’d swept her red hair into a high bun. With her dramatic stage make-up, she was a stunner. She’d make some girl very happy tonight.
I wasn’t changing clothes, myself. Bartending here meant I dressed more revealingly than I preferred to, and I figured the look would transfer well enough to the gay club.
We took a cab to Reckless, since both of us were already feeling the shots’ effects. I didn’t go out often, and I intended to make this night count.
The club was as unpleasantly loud and crowded as the others I’d been to, and for a moment I wondered why I’d bothered to come. Then, in the mass of gyrating bodies, I managed to pick out a few couples – women with women, men with men. My chest tightened, and I glanced at the floor.
I lived in a straight world. Heterosexuality was the default, and anything outside of that was practically unheard of. I could count on one hand the amount of LGBT couples I’d seen at the grocery store – ever. Even at the strip club, where some of the dancers were into women, all the same-sex desire was in the background. The customers’ lust for women suffused the place. It was overwhelming.
It’d been too long since I’d been somewhere that people were openly gay. Proudly gay. Where they didn’t even have to think about hiding who they were.
“I’ll buy you a drink,” Ginger shouted into my ear.
“Sure. Another shot?”
She disappeared in the direction of the bar, and I wormed my way through the crowd, following her. The DJ was playing a techno remix of a Justin Bieber song, and I couldn’t help but nod my head to the beat. This night might be okay after all.
I glanced around the room – and froze, making the person behind me bump into me. Liquid seeped through the back of my shirt. They must’ve spilled their drink on me, but I didn’t care.
At the other end of the room, smiling and laughing and swaying to the music, was Sylvia.
A hand pulled mine upward and pressed a shot glass into it. Ginger held two beers, too. I accepted one of them and chased the shot with a sip. “Thanks, I’ll get the next round.” My eyes tracked back to Sylvia.
“No worries.” In my peripheral vision, Ginger bounced to the music.
My gaze stayed on Sylvia. She looked different tonight. Younger… freer. Her hair hung loosely around her shoulders, and she wore short shorts with a slim-fitting T-shirt. I’d been right – she did have a great body. In fact, I couldn’t take my eyes off it.
Fingers touched my chin, and Ginger directed my gaze back to her. “What are you looking at?” she asked, her hand lingering for a moment before she let it drop.
“See that woman over there, in the shorts? That’s my social worker.”
“Oh, weird.” She didn’t seem overly interested.
“Isn’t it?” I asked. “She’s the one who supervises my visits with Mercy. I see her twice a week, and I can’t stand her.” Although that hadn’t been so true lately. “Like, what’s she even doing here? Why would she come to a place like this?”
“Guess she’s gay.”
“No way.”
I couldn’t see Sylvia being a lesbian. Although… she’d never mentioned anything about a man in her life. Maybe it was possible. She was feminine, but then, so was I. And I’d never asked her anything personal – she’d have no reason to share her orientation with me.
“I should go say hi.”
“Why would you do that?” Ginger touched my arm. “Thought you didn’t like her.”
“She talked me into applying for child support. I was going to thank her when I saw her at the agency, so I might as well do it here instead.” And okay, part of me was dying to know why she was here. If she was the kind of straight girl who came to gay clubs to get away from predatory guys, or… what. “I’ll only be a minute.”
“Jenelle.” Something urgent in Ginger’s tone of voice stopped me. “I was hoping to spend some time with you.”
“I’ll only be a minute,” I repeated. Then – “Wait, what?”
She looked up at me, her long-lashed eyes blinking up at me. “Dance with me.” Her arm snaked around my waist, and her breasts pressed up to mine.
I sucked in a hot breath. Ginger was into me? Was this supposed to be a date? How had I not seen this coming? Her coming to talk to me, her odd touchy-feeliness… It should’ve been obvious a long time ago.
My instinct was to step back, but I forced myself to stay where I was. I stood still, not dancing but not breaking away either. Was I into her? I’d never thought about it. I preferred not to shit where I ate – but the alcohol running through my veins made it not seem to matter. She was pretty, and we did get along.
Maybe I should go for her. Maybe I’d be dumb not to. Tentatively, I let my arms lace around her shoulders, and I felt her let out a breath of satisfaction. I moved slowly, shifting my hips to the left and then the right.
This felt weird. Like… it felt wrong. I liked Ginger as a friend. The feeling of her body against mine was doing nothing for me, and her hands sliding around my back just made me uncomfortable. Her heavy breathing told me she was way more excited about this than I was.
All I wanted to do was step away and go over to Sylvia.
Sylvia. I could see myself dancing like this with her – and enjoying it. The idea of her big blue eyes looking up at me sent a thrum of desire through my core. If it was her body s
o close to mine, her breath on my skin, her lips on my neck…
What was Ginger doing? I leapt back, looking at her in horror. If there had been any question in my mind, it was gone. She was not my type, not in the least.
“Sorry,” I blurted out. “I’m not feeling it. I see you as a friend, Ginge. We can be friends, right?”
Her face twisted like she was about to cry, and cold fingers of guilt coiled around me. She must’ve really liked me. Who knew how long she’d been working up to trying this?
“Sure,” she said, her voice barely audible. “Friends.”
I took a long swig of my beer, hoping it could wash away my feelings. “I’ll wingman you.” I tried to sound cheerful. “We’ll find you someone.”
“Right.” She looked away. “Actually, I think I might head out.”
I did my best to suppress the instant relief that went through me. I wouldn’t have been comfortable with her staying.
“Okay,” I said. “Get home safe.”
She looked at me sharply. “You’re going to stay without me?”
“Just for a minute.”
Just for as long as it took to say hi to Sylvia.
After an awkward hug, Ginger left, and I moved to the bar to finish my beer alone. I placed the empty bottle on the counter and searched each corner of the room.
I was too late. Either Sylvia had gone, or she’d never been here at all.
There was no longer any sign of her.
Nine – Sylvia
Nails jabbed through my temples, and a hammer beat them in farther with every breath I took. Letting out a groan, I rolled onto my side and drew my knees up to my forehead. The scent of lavender from my oil diffuser, usually so calming, made my stomach churn.
Last night had not been worth this morning. I didn’t know why I’d agreed to go out in the first place. I’d been curled up in front of the TV, my cat purring sweetly at my side, when I’d gotten a text from an old friend that she was going out dancing.
I didn’t go to bars or clubs too often. They just weren’t that fun. Getting dressed up and spending exorbitant amounts on drinks I could’ve had at home – it made no sense. I hated the loud music and the crowds pressing in on me. They made me feel claustrophobic.
And then there were the aftereffects. At twenty-six, hangovers were a lot worse than they were at twenty-one. I could go the rest of my life without one and die happy.
But I hadn’t seen these friends in forever, and I’d felt a little antsy when I got the text. It was already nine, and I was wide awake rather than getting sleepy. I’d said to myself, “Fuck it.”
I eased my way out of bed and made my way to the bathroom cabinet, where I kept a bottle of Tylenol. I shook two tablets into my hand and swallowed them dry, wincing at the sensation.
What a weird night. Wren and Tara had been making out all night – I hadn’t even known they were dating. And Randi had practically ignored me, despite being the one to invite me out. Did she just want to rub it in my face that the other two were together? She knew perfectly well that Wren and I had hooked up a few times back in the day, and I knew perfectly well that she’d always been jealous.
I scoffed. If she thought I had feelings for Wren, she didn’t know me too well at all. I hadn’t had “feelings” for anyone – ever. I didn’t know why other people bothered to. I kind of understood the whole thing about wanting to share your life with a companion and whatever… but the mushy-gushy, ooey-gooey emotions that other people talked about sounded like a huge waste of time.
A scratching sound came at the door. Right, Deedee’s breakfast was late. I opened the door and ran a hand over her furry white head. She rubbed against my legs with a loud meow, her ears flattening back as she looked up at me pleadingly.
I scooped her up and brought her into the kitchen. I was surprised none of my roommates had fed her – they were usually pretty good about that. As I poured kibble into her bowl, another image from last night returned.
I had seen Jenelle, hadn’t I? I hadn’t just imagined it. It’d been so late, and I’d been so drunk, I really wasn’t sure. She’d been on the dance floor, looking like she just stepped out of a fashion magazine. She’d been closely entangled with another woman – her girlfriend? Their arms were wrapped around each other, their bodies swaying with the beat of the music.
I stepped back from Deedee’s bowl, shaking myself mentally. Seeing Jenelle was strange, like seeing a teacher outside of school as a kid. I shouldn’t even have been surprised. I’d already known she was gay, and at twenty-three, of course she was going to want to go out from time to time.
And yet I was still thinking about that brief glimpse of her on Tuesday, when she came in for her visit.
It was funny. I saw multiple clients every day, ten or fifteen every week. But none of them preoccupied my mind like Jenelle did. I rarely thought about the other families when they weren’t with me. Didn’t worry about them and wonder what they were doing.
Jenelle was different. She’d been different for a long time.
“Hey,” she said when she came into the waiting room – fifteen minutes early this time. Her tight jeans and heeled boots told me she was on the way to her strip club job again, but she had a short-sleeved button-down shirt over whatever skimpy tank top she wore underneath. “How are you?”
That had to be the first time she’d asked how I was, and the shock of it made me stare at her. A self-conscious look came into her pretty brown eyes, and she looked away, pink tinting her smooth cheeks. The features I’d found so harsh at first were rather soft now that I’d learned to look at her properly.
“I’m fine,” I finally said. “And you?”
“Good. How was your weekend?” She still wasn’t looking me in the eye.
She’d seen me in the club, hadn’t she? “It was good.” I paused as she took a seat in the chair opposite mine. “Did you have fun at Reckless?”
“So you saw me.” The color in her cheeks deepened to more of a red. “I was going to say hi, but then you disappeared.”
“You looked pretty busy. I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”
“Oh, her?” She shifted in her seat. “She’s not my girlfriend. Just a friend.”
“She looked pretty friendly.” I remembered the scene all too clearly. “It’s fine for you to date, you know. As long as it’s not detracting from your case plan, you can do whatever you want.”
“That’s great, but I’m not dating her. Really.”
“Okay.” I shrugged.
I didn’t care either way. It wasn’t like I was jealous. Even if I found Jenelle beautiful and kind of fascinating, she was my client. I couldn’t date her even if I wanted to. Plus she hated me. Didn’t she?
“She wanted to make things more than that,” she said. “It was an awkward moment that you happened to see. You had fun, though?”
“Yeah, it was all right.”
“Do you go there a lot?”
I looked at her carefully, scrutinizing the way she was scrutinizing me. She was trying to figure out if I was gay, wasn’t she? She didn’t have any way to know. Suppressing a smile, I leaned back in my chair. “Sometimes, if my friends invite me.”
“Oh, your friends like it more than you do?”
“We all like it.” I paused, let that sink in. “The music is great.”
She blinked. “I guess the music was okay, but…”
I put her out of her misery. “I’m gay, Jenelle. I go to gay clubs from time to time.”
“Oh! Okay.” She pulled her duffel bag onto her lap as if shielding herself from the embarrassment. “That’s cool. I didn’t know.”
“Now you do.” What was going on with her?
I didn’t have time to think about it, because the door swung open and Mercy stole her attention again.
And this time, some deep part of me wanted that attention back.
As the visit got started, I almost forgot about my bet with Max. Watching Jenelle interact with her daught
er was so incredibly heart-warming – even if I still thought Mercy was missing out because Jenelle was too proud to use our toys.
I noticed she’d taken my suggestion and brought in homework to work on before coloring. She helped Mercy so patiently and attentively, I couldn’t understand how she’d ever gotten to the point of having the little girl taken away.
“Tell me what I’m writing,” Jenelle said, covering up the paper they’d been practicing capital letters on.
Mercy peered at her hand. “You’re writing my name.”
Jenelle uncovered the page with genuine surprise. “You’re right. How did you know that?”
“I’m sidekick,” Mercy said proudly.
Jenelle coughed out a laugh. “You’re what?”
“Sidekick. I can read minds.”
“You mean psychic, sweetie?”
“That’s what I said.” She spoke with complete confidence. “I’m sidekick.”
I couldn’t help but giggle. Jenelle’s eyes met mine, and for a moment a shared understanding passed between us. Affection. Amusement.
“You sure are, sweetie,” Jenelle said, breaking my gaze. “You’re sidekick.”
When the two hours were up, I expected her to stride out without a glance at me, like she normally did. To my surprise, once Mercy had left with her foster parents, Jenelle approached me again.
“I almost forgot,” she said. “I talked to Mercy’s dad. He’s going to pay child support, and I have you to thank for it.” Her voice was low. She sounded almost shy. “I appreciate you telling me about that and encouraging me to look into it. You did all that research for me, and you didn’t have to. You’re a good person.”
Well, damn. My jaw hung open and I stared at her. I’d never in a million years thought I’d hear those words coming out of her mouth – especially since they weren’t true.
I’d done it all for a bet – which I’d now won. But those free lunches for a month were going to taste like ash if I knew Jenelle thought I’d helped her out of the goodness of my heart.
“It was nothing,” I said slowly. “You don’t need to thank me.”
“Of course I do.” She scratched the back of her neck, looking down at the floor. “I would never have looked into that stuff if it weren’t for you, and now my ex is going to be paying me every month until Mercy’s eighteen. It’s going to take a real load off my mind.”
Half A Heart Page 6