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Bunches Page 8

by Jill Valley


  My mother used to say, “A person is not the sum of her worst experiences.” My mom taught me that most people are stronger than that. I know probably more than Nora’d like me to, but that’s not for tonight. Tonight I just want her to be comfortable with me, at least a little bit, by the time I stand up and find my friends.

  She looks at me and smiles. My heart beats faster and I smile back. Somewhere buried in there is an amazing girl who’s just afraid of getting hurt again. Understandably.

  “How do you like it here?” I ask, leaning back and lacing my fingers behind my head.

  She shrugs. “It’s good. I mean, I like it a lot. I’m glad I’m spending the summer here.”

  “And how do you know those two?” I nod toward the friends who made such an ungraceful exit.

  “Lizzy’s a friend of mine from high school,” Nora says, squinting up at me. She looks more at ease now. I realize I have to tell her. Secrets never win friends - or lovers, or loved ones.

  I sigh and look into those wounded eyes. I just hope it doesn’t bring her too much pain. She’s gone through enough already and I’m sure I don’t know the half of it.

  Chapter Thirteen - Nora

  My heart is slamming inside my chest. I can’t believe my friends deserted me. And so quickly. Traitors. I was worried, but once JJ introduced himself and started talking I wasn’t. Somehow I’m not nervous around him at all. In fact, I’m strangely comforted.

  There’s something familiar about him, not his voice, but something else. The line of his jaw, the cadence of his voice, the way his strong hands are entirely still. I frown at him some more.

  “Something wrong?” he asks. I’m frowning at him, so of course he would take that as a bad sign.

  “You look familiar,” I say. “Where were you when you weren’t here?”

  He raises his eyebrows and I blush. Why yes, that did come out terribly awkwardly.

  “I am wherever I am at the time,” he says, smiling at me.

  “Right, of course,” I mumble. I feel my face burning and I wish I could take it back. “Sorry, I have foot in mouth syndrome.”

  “It’s a common affliction for many of us,” he says, taking some of the weight of embarrassment off me and adding it to his own burdens. But I don’t want him to be kind. Nothing good can come of it.

  He sighs and shifts. Now my discomfort has been transferred to him, but not in a way I like.

  I reach out, then pull back. I don’t touch men.

  “I’m from Boston,” he explains. “I used to work rescue.”

  There it is, like a cold slap of water rushing up around my neck and into my face, filling my mouth and nostrils with a wordless suffocation. I can’t breathe as I stare at him. Now I know why he looks familiar. He was there. That night, that awful, terrible night, the night I started breathing because Michael couldn’t anymore. We are intimately connected and yet I do not know him. I can’t breathe and yet I’ve never met him. I feel cold and want to cry, for the memory and for not knowing something so vital to my being.

  Somehow, I manage to stay stock still and withstand the waves of panic and pain, because I have to. It is not this man’s fault and I do not want to live in sadness and pain. Not in front of him and not tonight. But my relationship to him is now different.

  “Did you know when you gave me the drinks?” I ask quietly.

  Surprise registers on his face. He doesn’t smile, but there’s relief somewhere in the depths of his irises.

  “No,” he says. There’s a storm of gray in his eyes. He takes a breath - because he can still breathe - as if to explain further, but then stops himself.

  I nod, looking around at the revelry. Anywhere but at the strong jaw, the warm eyes, and especially those hands. . . .

  “It’s a beautiful night,” I say. I will require further explanation, of course, but my friends are over by the cookie table again - can Noah eat everything? - and are expecting me to flirt.

  “Does Lizzy know you?” I ask.

  “No,” he says, his voice again drawing me back to somewhere comforting. “I don’t think so. I never met her. I wasn’t around much. Just that summer to work. My own family life was . . . complicated.”

  I nod again. I’m sure it was, but I have no idea. I didn’t care about much after Michael died, not even other people’s problems. My own always felt bigger and more insurmountable.

  “Look, I’m sorry for not telling you,” he says, shifting more into my view. His eyes are intent on my face and I can see he’s worried. I feel bad for worrying him.

  “It’s just strange to have run into you after all this time,” I say, surprised at my own calmness. Maybe it’s his voice. Or his hands. Or both.

  “It is strange,” he says. He pauses, hesitates, breathes. “I’m glad. I mean, I didn’t even know I would recognize you, but then I did.”

  Instantly I flinch. “Do I look that different?” But then I add, “I don’t want to talk about it, actually.”

  Over and over in my mind I keep repeating that I know this man and that this man knows me. Not only that, but he knows me from my darkest night, my most intimate pain. I’ve known him for years. How very strange.

  “Okay,” he says.

  Another comfort. I realize there’s no way he and I can talk about that night, because I don’t talk about that night with anyone, ever. I mean, I had therapy. Boatloads, and it did help. Honestly, I was a lot better afterward. But it’s different to talk to someone who loves me. Or, I guess, someone who saved me.

  I glance at JJ. “That beer’s getting warm, huh? Lets put it on ice.” I stand up, and he stands too, watching me closely.

  “You’re still going to come to the Remember, right?” he says, worriedly.

  I smile. “I don’ t think we can keep Lizzy away.”

  “We should tell her you’re from Boston,” I say, “but don’t-”

  He shakes his head. “No, of course not. That’s between you and me if it’s between anyone at all.”

  I’m grateful, and I know he sees it. Lizzy would have a million questions and look anxious, and I don’t want that. I want to enjoy my night. This summer is about forgiveness, even if I can’t forget. I want to smile more.

  That should have been on the bucket list.

  The guy I saw JJ with earlier comes up to us and asks, “How’s it going?” He’s definitely the bouncer from the Remember. There’s a girl with him. She’s short and smiley, with long brown hair and big brown eyes.

  “Hi,” he says, ignoring JJ after the initial greeting. “I’m Ben.”

  I smile and shake his hand. Hands I can shake. That’s fine. Over and over in my mind I’m still repeating that I know JJ. He’s from Boston, and five years ago he saved my life. I didn’t get his name then.

  “Nora,” I say. “Enjoying the night?”

  Ben nods and grins. “Great food.” He nods to a plate piled high with food that the girl is carrying. He has an arm wrapped protectively around her waist.

  “Aren’t the cookies especially delicious?” Noah asks, coming up to us with Lizzy. He’s polishing off what looks suspiciously like another cookie and licking his fingers in satisfaction. His hair has dried so that it’s sticking up at odd angles. He doesn’t appear to care. Lizzy rolls her eyes.

  “You’re friends with us now,” she says. “Nora can make you cookies any time you want.” She grins an apology at me for volunteering my services.

  “I’m Katie, by the way,” says the girl wrapped up in Ben. After that, introductions have to be made.

  JJ smiles and jokes around with Ben, and I can see how comfortable and relaxed he is with his friends, how happy he is to be with them.

  “Want to sit down and get beers?” JJ asks. “Now that we’re all making friends.”

  “Might as well,” says Noah, before I can protest.

  I realize that we’ve been here for almost two hours and I’m not even tired. We go over to one of the picnic tables set up in the middle of the square and s
it around it. JJ and Ben wander off to get beers, leaving the other four of us to chat.

  “So, you know JJ?” Katie asks, turning to me. “He made a beeline for you the second he saw you.”

  Next to her, Lizzy smirks.

  “No,” I say, taken aback. “We, I mean, no.”

  “He came into the coffee shop this morning,” says Noah. “And these two, since they’re twenty-one, go to the Remember.”

  Katie smiles in appreciation. “It’s such a nice spot, isn’t it? JJ’s put his heart and soul into that place. I only wish everyone could see that.” She shakes her head a little sadly and I wonder who she’s thinking of that doesn’t appreciate JJ’s hard work. I can see how hard JJ has worked at the bar.

  “So, the muffins JJ brought over were yours?” Katie asks, turning to Noah. Our new friend grins.

  “Well, my grandmother made them. She insists on making the baked goods for the shop.”

  “Ah, I see,” says Katie. “They were delicious. What time does your grandmother have to get up every morning?” As the two of them talk about the coffee shop, Lizzy needles me about JJ.

  The guys take their time getting the beers. I can see JJ on his phone again. Katie sees it too and rolls her eyes, but doesn’t comment. We talk of other things. How nice Portland is in the summer, how much fun block parties can be and what a cool idea it is for everyone to bring food. Katie has a great belly laugh that she throws her whole body into. She’s curious about us and seems genuinely interested in making friends.

  “So, how did you and Ben get together?” Lizzy asks, nosy as ever.

  “Oh, we met at the Remember,” says Katie, blushing prettily.

  She’s clearly still smitten. So, that can happen, I think triumphantly. Then I think about how funny it is that I’m thinking anything like that at all, as if a bartender who has girls staring at him all night would ever go for a girl like me.

  Ben comes back, but JJ stays on the phone for a long time. When he finally returns he looks frustrated, but no one says anything. The conversation continues long into the night. It turns out that Katie and Noah grew up in adjacent towns. Even if Katie’s a little older and they didn’t go to the same high school, they know a lot of the same people, as do Ben and JJ.

  There’s a lot to talk about. When we’ve exhausted the topic of mutual acquaintances and home towns, we talk about the party, music, and our taste in movies. We agree we should all do dinner and a movie sometime, and hopefully Aimee can come as well.

  Finally, I start to yawn. At first I try to cover it up. I tighten my jaw as the yawn starts and look away, so no one will notice. I don’t want the night to end. But soon the yawns get bigger and I can’t cover them up, and JJ is right there, saying we should call it a night.

  “I have to get home anyway,” says Ben. “We have a lot to do tomorrow,” he adds, smiling down at Katie.

  “We’re moving in together in September,” Katie explains. “So, we’re trying to figure out what stuff we can share and what stuff we’re getting rid of.”

  I yawn again.

  “Okay,” says Noah with finality. “Bedtime. It was nice to meet everyone.” We all stand up and stretch. Ben has slipped his feet out of his sandals and now slips them back on.

  In the confusion of leaving that follows, I find myself walking next to JJ.

  He touches my arm lightly, sending hot shivers up my shoulder, around my neck, and down my back. My hand tingles and I flex it involuntarily. Nothing like that has ever happened before.

  “We should talk more,” he says quietly, his lips close to my ear as our friends pretend not to notice. “If you want to.” He doesn’t want me mad at him, I think.

  I nod.

  “Come into the bar sometime when it’s not busy,” he says. “We can chat.”

  I grin. “Multi-tasking?”

  He smiles back. “Something like that.”

  “Okay,” I say. “My schedule is a little unorthodox, so I should be able to swing that.”

  He looks happy and we leave it at that. Mine is the closest apartment, so I leave the group first. I haven’t even made it up my stairs yet when I get a text from Lizzy. Of course she would.

  “You will tell me everything,” she says. “Everything.”

  I smile and flop into my bed. Snick curls up next to me; for once he hasn’t snuck out, and I’m glad he’s here, my favorite cuddling companion since Michael. I sigh, but the usual ache that accompanies thoughts of Michael doesn’t come. Relieved, I curl up and go to sleep.

  Chapter Fourteen - JJ

  “Morning,” Jessie says, bouncing onto my bed. I do remember giving her a key to my apartment after a fight we had about six months ago, when I’d had enough to drink so that I was buzzed. Now, when she wakes me up early, I have reason to regret it. I mumble something and roll away from her, but she follows me.

  “Come on,” she says. “It’s nearly ten o’clock and I haven’t seen you all weekend,” she grumbles. Sure she did. She saw me when she came into the Remember.

  I crack one eye open. We were out late last night at the block party and I had a lot more fun than I expected. My nerves still are fizzing a little in anticipation of talking to Nora again. She took the knowledge of our mutual history better than I thought she would, given the state I saw her in five years ago. I have a feeling that her equilibrium is still fragile, though.

  “What do you want to do today?” Jessie asks, bouncing a bit on the bed. I curl my arm around her waist and pull her down next to me. She giggles and snuggles into my shoulder. I hope her warm body and bright smile will make me forget that I barely thought about her last night.

  “I’m sorry about the argument,” she murmurs into my shoulder. “I just didn’t like that you were out without me. It reminded me of the days before we were together.”

  I grimace. “I was out with Ben.”

  “Yeah, but you and Ben used to go out and have a wild time,” she says, snuggling closer. I shift to make her more comfortable.

  It’s true. Ben and I had a good time together. “He’s with Katie now.”

  “Yeah,” says Jessie. Her voice goes brittle, and I instantly regret bringing up Katie. “They’ve only been together for a year and they’re moving in together already.”

  I sigh. “Don’t start, Jess.”

  She sits up, pushing her small hand against my chest for leverage. I’m forced to release my arm. I let it flop dejectedly back onto the bed.

  I guess I can’t avoid this argument.

  “We’ve been together for two years,” she starts, sitting back on her heels. “I just don’t feel like we’re going anywhere.”

  I look at her, raising my eyebrows.

  She sighs, her shoulders drooping. I wish I didn’t disappoint her, but I don’t really care that much. “Fine, whatever. I came to see if you wanted to have breakfast with my parents.”

  I nod and grab my phone. She’s sent me several texts that I haven’t gotten, because I’ve been sleeping.

  “Sure,” I say. “Just let me shower.”

  She nods and I head into the bathroom. There are about a million things I’d rather be doing than having breakfast with Jessie’s parents, but I can’t tell her that. We’ve had enough fights this weekend. I sigh. Maybe this whole “dating a girl because my friends are worried about me” isn’t the best thing. I know it’s not great for Jessie, because she’s right. We aren’t going anywhere. Until last weekend I was sure I couldn’t go anywhere with anyone, but after seeing Nora, I’m not so sure.

  “Are you ready?” Jessie calls. I come out of the bathroom, already in jeans and a t-shirt. Her parents are pretty relaxed, and they seem to like me, at least her mother does. Her dad isn’t happy about the whole bar owner thing.

  “Yup,” I say, running my fingers through my still-wet hair. I smile reassuringly at her. She’s flipping through a magazine on the couch.

  Anabella is glaring at her from the other side of the room. She’s black and white with bright
yellow eyes, which at the moment are staring me down. It took my mother’s cat a whole year just to stay in the same room with Jessie, and she still won’t let Jessie touch her. My girlfriend pretends it doesn’t hurt her feelings, but I know it does.

  “She still hates me,” says Jessie, staring hard at her magazine. We’ve had fights about Anabella, too. Jessie isn’t a big fan of cats, and once Anabella made it crystal clear that she wasn’t a big fan of Jessie, it was cold war between the two of them.

  “She likes you more than she likes me,” Jessie whines.

  “Jess,” I say, “Anabella tolerates me because I feed her. That’s about it.”

  Whenever Jessie comes to snuggle with me, Anabella comes and snuggles closer, or, just to make her point very clear, the second Jessie enters a room, Anabella leaves it.

  “At least she’s in the room,” I say, nodding to my cat. “Did you feed her?”

  Jessie huffs and flips her hair quickly into a messy ponytail.

  “No, she doesn’t eat the food when I do,” she says icily.

  “I’m sure that was just that one time,” I say. My mom got Anabella as a kitten, but she didn’t have her very long. That was a bad summer if ever there was one. I wonder if Nora remembers, but given her reaction last night I don’t think she does. She had her own problems.

  “Why don’t you get another cat?” Jessie says. “Maybe that one wouldn’t sneak out so much if you did.”

  “She has a name,” I say.

  Jessie just shrugs.

  “I can get breakfast,” I say, “but then I’m going to work.”

  Jessie looks angry, but she hides it quickly. Like me, she knows we’ve been arguing too much recently. Secretly I hope Nora is going to come in and visit later today. I want to talk to her more.

  I don’t even know what I’m going to say, but saying pretty much anything to her seems better than saying anything specific to anyone else.

  “Come on,” says Jessie, taking my hand and smiling up into my eyes. Anabella hisses, but Jessie ignores my mom’s cat. I couldn’t help mom, so I take care of Anabella. “We can have a nice breakfast.”

 

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