by H P Tune
“I don’t…I don’t know what to say.”
“It’s okay. If you want me to just stay on the phone while you cry, I’m good with that. Or we can talk, whatever might make you feel a bit better.”
“Are you this nice to every girl you meet in an airport?”
“Only the hot ones.” Squeezing the bridge of her nose, Juliet cursed at how the words had rolled unfiltered off her tongue. She should never have had that bottle of wine.
She heard a short, sharp bark of amusement over the line. “Is that right?”
“Was that a laugh?” Juliet asked. “Because if that’s all it takes, then the rest of this phone call should be pretty easy.” She heard Mia sniffle and the distinct sound of skin on skin, likely the sound of Mia wiping tears from her cheeks.
“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t phone every blonde I meet in a flood of tears, Juliet.”
“Just a select few, hey?”
“Just the mysterious cute ones.”
Juliet smiled. Mia’s changed tone seemed to suggest Juliet was helping her mood. “Hmmm, so they have to be not just cute, but mysterious too. You’ve got standards.”
They fell into a brief silence until Mia asked, “Were you doing something when I phoned? I hope I didn’t interrupt you.”
Juliet smiled and shook her head at her empty room. “Not at all. I may have just polished off a bottle of wine and was contemplating getting under the blankets rather than where I had collapsed on top of them. Are you at home? You’re not in some dark alley somewhere?”
“I don’t think a drink would have helped me tonight. And yeah, I’m at home. A dark alley? I’m not in London, you know.”
Juliet laughed. “That’s right, you’re in the middle of nowhere. So, you’re at home and what—curled up on the sofa having a meltdown?”
“Pretty much. I’ll umm…I’ll explain properly sometime. Tomorrow, even, but I just really need to not be thinking about this. So, to answer your earlier question, distraction would be great.”
Juliet hesitated only momentarily. “I get that.” She kicked at the sheets underneath her until she could slide down the bed to lie down. She tried to spread the duvet over herself. “And I promise I won’t talk about the weather, but I just have to say that it is freezing over here. I’m going to have to sort out some better heating, because this is insane.”
“Tell me about it—the weather anyway. It’s been snowing on and off here most of the day, in between rain and sleet. Although now I’m back inside, I’ve got the heat high, so it’s more like summer in here.”
“Oh that’s cruel! I need more clothes on inside than I do outside.”
“You need a better apartment, Juliet.”
“Nah, it’s all right for the moment. It’ll do, anyway. Speaking of, have you given some more thought to coming to visit? Or have I successfully put you off my apartment?”
Mia seemed to have settled, her voice more stable and her breathing even. “I would like to, but only if that’s actually okay with you. I mean, I can come whenever suits; it’s not like I have a schedule.”
“And clearly I have a whole heap of structure too! Come whenever you like, no stress at all. You can fly into Brussels or Paris. Even Amsterdam isn’t far. And I can show you the sights of Bruges or the best pub. I’m trying several of them to make sure I know the best one.”
Mia laughed again. “It’s a tough job to try them all out. Do you just go on your own, or have you met some people?” Her mood did seem to be improving, Juliet thought.
“I just go in on my own—a few drinks and I end up talking to anyone. Not much different than back in the States.”
There was a pause over the line. “I could never go into a bar or club on my own for a night out, I don’t think.”
“What?” Juliet asked loudly, laughing. “Where are those feminist principles? It’s empowering. I’ll show you the ropes.”
“I would to a café or restaurant, maybe, even a movie—and I do. But I don’t know about a bar.”
“What’s the worst that could happen?” Juliet asked.
“I don’t know,” Mia said. “Someone takes advantage of you.”
“Maybe I’m the one taking advantage of others,” Juliet teased. “I’m kidding. I know what you’re getting at. I just figure that anything can happen anytime I walk out the door, so some risks are worth taking.”
“True, fair call. So, how has the writing been going?”
Juliet groaned, palm of her hand smacking lightly against her forehead. “Did you have to ask?”
Mia laughed. “That good, huh?”
“Worse. I have written some, a little you know. Maybe a chapter, but it’s shit. It really is.”
“I’m sure it’s not.”
“Oh it is,” Juliet said firmly. “I should delete it and start again, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. I’ll delete it and then have nothing. I have no idea what I’m going to do.”
“Do you think you’re just stressing too much and so there’s too much pressure?”
“Thanks, Doctor Phil. Probably. Who knows, actually? Either way, I don’t have anything decent written. I keep thinking that maybe I should just phone my editor and call it quits, try and figure out a way to pay back my advance.”
“No, don’t,” Mia said. “Not yet. Just give yourself some time. You’ve got six months, right?”
“With days ticking away…”
“Well, wait until the end of the six months, and if it’s still all out of the question, I’ll take care of that advance for you.”
Juliet quickly laughed, a mix of awkwardness and amazement, until she absorbed the genuineness in Mia’s voice. “I couldn’t let you do that.”
“We’ll argue about that in six months’ time.”
Juliet couldn’t place the unsettled feeling in her stomach. Six months? Mia and her would still be talking in six months?
“Got that?” Mia asked after a long moment of silence between them.
“Yeah.” She needed to move the conversation away from the security of their friendship, though it seemed ridiculous that they couldn’t talk about what had made Mia phone her for the first time and in a flood of tears. Meanwhile, Juliet could only talk so much about herself in the interest of distraction before she started to feel conflicted and uncomfortable. The topics edged past superficial without her even realising it.
“So, what’s your plan for the rest of the night? Straight to bed? I’m a little concerned that I’ll hang up and you’ll just curl back up on the sofa crying.”
“I’d like to say that won’t happen,” Mia said, her breath sounding heavy to Juliet all of a sudden. “But there’s no guarantee. I’m not quite as foetal as I was a little while ago, though.”
“I’d kind of prefer that not to happen. Can I help?”
“You have, trust me. I probably should have phoned you when I didn’t sound completely suicidal, sorry about that.”
“You really need to stop apologising to me, and I mean really, really need to stop.” Juliet chuckled. “So, have you eaten tonight? Showered?”
“Ah, no and no to that.”
“Right. So when you’re ready, you’re going to get up and walk into the kitchen. You’re going to open the fridge and tell me what’s in there.” Juliet made her tone authoritarian and her pace slow, serious.
“Mmm?” Mia asked, and Juliet could almost hear the small smile.
“Yep, that’s right.”
“I’ve got it sorted. Really, I’m okay.”
“I know,” Juliet said. “This isn’t about you, it’s about me. I have no food, so I’m living vicariously through you. So go on, onto your feet, and tell me what you have to eat.”
“I know what you’re doing.”
“Then get on with it. You need to eat, Mia, and I bet you haven’t had a thing most of the day.”
“I had breakfast.”
“And now it’s eight thirty at night.”
“Okay, okay.
” The sound of the seal breaking on the fridge met Juliet’s ear. “There’s heaps of food.”
“Awesome. What looks good?”
“Umm, there’s a pasta salad, which is good, some cut-up fruit, yogurt, juice, soda. Ah, some cold meats, cheese, eggs, a few jars of…something—olives, maybe.” Despite the breadth of options, Mia sounded positively uninterested.
“Talk about well stocked. This definitely isn’t a game we should both play, because I think I’ve got an old loaf of bread and some cheese—and a shitload of wine, of course. Well, what do you think? Some pasta salad and a juice are probably good—no preparation and all.”
“Yeah, I guess. I’m really not hungry though.”
“So grab a bowl and a glass, or you can eat straight out of the containers if you like. I won’t tell anyone.”
“Nah,” Mia said. “I think I’ll go get a bowl. You’re not going to need photographic evidence of this, are you?”
“I expect that I’ll be able to tell when you’re actually chewing.”
“Juliet!” They both laughed simultaneously. “You are quite insane, you know that?”
“What? It’s hard. I’m all the way over here, and you’re all crying and upset and not telling me what it’s about. What am I supposed to do?”
“I have never met anyone like you,” Mia said. Over the line, Juliet heard the clanking of a bowl on something, wood perhaps, and the sound of liquid filling a glass. “Where have you been my entire life?”
“Ha ha, running amok. You know that.”
“I find that hard to believe. Surely you haven’t spent your whole life going from place to place.”
“For the most part, bar a few attempts at settling down.”
“Didn’t work out?” Mia asked.
“Not so much.” Juliet’s shoulders rolled forward, and she bit on her lower lip before continuing. “My choice in women, not so great. Or maybe their choice in women is not so great. I’m not sure I’m a great catch.”
“Maybe you just haven’t met the right person…yet.”
“Yeah.” Juliet shrugged to an empty room. “Sounds like a good excuse to me.”
“Sometimes we run for a reason, right? It doesn’t have to always be our fault. There are reasons, contributing factors. It’s hard to not blame ourselves.”
“What makes you think I’ve run, Mia?”
“Hmmm oh, I don’t know. You don’t talk about anyone or anything like it belongs somewhere, so I’m just guessing. Sorry.”
“I didn’t say you were wrong,” Juliet said. “And I’m obviously more transparent than I like.”
“Are you kidding me? You’re like a puzzle, and the pieces are spread all over the globe. Don’t be less transparent; I won’t stand a chance then.”
Juliet laughed. “How’s that dinner going?”
“Nice segue. Dinner is fine. How much do I have to eat, Boss?”
“Just a little. I’m happy as long as you’ve had something.”
“Are you going to direct me to the shower as well? ’Cause this conversation could take a whole new turn.”
“That sounds suspiciously seductive.” Juliet grinned. The conversation was finishing with a completely different tone from where it had started, thankfully.
“You know what I said about mysterious blondes.”
“Now I’m not mistaken: that is actually flirtatious, right?”
“Maybe a little,” Mia laughed. “Which is clearly effective, given I’m in a different country.”
“True. And you really do need to shower and get into bed and sleep. Sleep is good.”
“You need to sleep as well. You were in bed when I called, weren’t you?”
“Still am. I would have gotten up, but I was hoping the slight drunkenness that I was feeling wouldn’t be obvious through the phone if I just stayed in bed and didn’t move. Did it work?”
“Very well. I never would have been able to tell.”
“Too kind. I have to back up, actually. Some of my neighbours are insisting on drinks tomorrow afternoon or night. Apparently the gossip mill says I’m some lonely chick that needs buddies to show her around.”
“Oh, you’ll have to call me and tell me how it goes. That sounds like a great distraction for me.”
“Ack. They’ll probably try and set me up with some guy or do shots off the table.”
“As I was saying, that would make a great story; perfect distraction.”
“I’ll keep that in mind—try and get some material for you. Hey, are you in your bathroom yet?”
“And if that was flirting, you need to do some work on your skills,” Mia said. “I should let you go.”
“You going to be okay?”
“Yeah, thank you—so much. You got me back to sane.”
“Anytime. I’ll touch base with you tomorrow, okay?”
“Thanks. And hey, before you go, Juliet…” Mia’s voice dropped back down to barely a whisper.
“Mmm?”
Mia’s sharp intake of breath whistled down the phone line. “Today, umm, today was, is, the anniversary of a death. Someone really important, it was a…a big thing.”
“Oh Mia, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
“I know. I just wanted you to know that…I’m not crazy. I’m just…”
“You’re sad. I know. I really do understand. Today sucks for you.”
“It does. Thanks.”
“All right, take your shower and get into bed and try and get some sleep.”
“You too,” Mia replied, seeming unsure as to how to end the call.
Juliet smiled. “Yep, and just so you know, I’m looking awesome in jeans and a hoodie and socks too. And my hair hasn’t been brushed. Still think I’m hot?”
“You can’t wear jeans to bed!”
“No such thing as can’t. It’s definitely not the first time.”
“Thanks for making me laugh,” Mia said. “Talk to you soon, okay? Keep me up to date with how your drinks go tomorrow.”
“Will do. Night, Mia.”
“See you.”
Juliet sunk back and scooted down the bed, covers up to her neck. She rolled onto her side and curled the duvet into her fists, tugging it close. Maybe she owed it to herself to try just one more time. Maybe Mia was worth one more risk.
* * *
When five young people knocked on her apartment door the next day, Juliet had picked up her bag with great reluctance and left with them. She laughed and she smiled, chatted idly, and tolerated the introductions. All the while, her mind wandered, contemplating when it was that she had gotten old, and when seemingly intelligent people in their mid-twenties had changed their approach to fashion.
Short skirts and knee-high UGG boots didn’t make a winter’s outfit in any universe.
Aided by a number of wines and one unfortunate tequila shot, Juliet lasted a few hours, listening to tales of their last “huge” night and their declarations on what the going rates for various drugs were, all oral of course. Intravenous was apparently for the young and stupid. And addicted, Juliet had managed to contribute.
She texted Mia after a few hours, needing a break from the perfectly nice but somewhat immature group.
Hi, out with the youth of today. Odd. How are you doing tonight?
Doing okay, thanks to you. Any setups yet?
Juliet smiled, though her neighbours had gone oblivious, disappearing in pairs to the bathroom and returning with pinpoint pupils.
“You want?” one asked Juliet, and she politely turned down the offer. She quickly texted Mia back.
Not yet, just got offered an unidentified tablet though—score.
Don’t take unknown substances!!! You’ll end up in the hospital.
Don’t worry, turned it down. The tequila was rough enough for me.
Easy on the tequila; that crap is harsh.
“Juliet, you kicking on? We’re going to move, got some dancin’ to do.” There was a brief display of uncoordinated movement
, supposedly dancing.
“No, no thanks, actually. I’m good. I’m thinking of heading back home.”
“Oh come on, come on girl! You look like the dancing type.”
Juliet shook her head, the British couple reaching for her hands in an attempt to tug her to her feet. The other three were from Belgium, perpetual students at the nearby college.
“Nah, honestly I’m exhausted. You guys go ahead. I’ve had a great night. Dank uwel.”
“Oh, Flemish!” One of the male students bent to kiss Juliet’s cheek. “Het is niks, graag gedaan.”
Juliet laughed. “Say what?”
His friend explained. “He said, ‘You’re welcome.’”
“Oh, right. I need to learn a few more phrases! Have a good night. Don’t do anything too crazy.”
“Are you right to get home?”
“Yeah, I’ll just finish this drink and take off. I’m fine.”
“Nice to meet you, Juliet. We should do it again some time.” A few more choruses of the same sentiment rounded, and they disappeared out the door in a range of cheers and loud comments. She was definitely feeling old.
Picking her phone back up again off the sticky table, she wiped it on her jeans and tapped a reply to Mia.
The kids have gone. Just finishing my drink, and I’m heading home to bed. I think the tequila went to my head.
Go home and go to bed. Drink lots of water.
Getting there. How many hours spent crying on the couch/bed/floor today?
A few moments passed, and Juliet sipped on her wine, enjoying her time people watching as the bar seemed to swell with a wave of patrons.
None at all, actually, just some quiet reflection. You must have fixed me.
I doubt that, but I’m glad you had a better day. You deserved a reprieve. All right, I’m going to head home. Talk to you later?
Let me know how you pull up tomorrow. :-)
Will do.
Juliet pushed her wine glass across the table before pocketing the phone in her jeans and grabbing her bag sitting next to her hip on the seat. She weaved through the crowd, tucking some strands of curled hair behind her ears as she secured the bag across her body. She reached the door and stepped out, groaning as a rush of freezing air met her. Tugging her coat closer around her body, Juliet shoved her hands into her pockets and with her head down, started to make her way along the sidewalk. It was only a fifteen-minute walk back to her apartment. Or if she wanted, she would come across a taxi rank just a bit further up the street and on the other side of the road.
