Poison in Pumps

by Karen Anne

  “What happened?”

  “What didn’t happen?”

  Dr. Rivers smiled. She didn’t say a word. No, the good doc was just going to wait patiently.

  “My boyfriend signed with a record label and went to London to record his album.”

  “How exciting!” She smiled broadly, and a row of white teeth gleamed back at me.

  “Yeah, it was, but we had a hard time with the long-distance thing, and we broke up.”

  “What was hard about it?”

  Seriously? That was her question? “I missed him too much. He had a female roommate, and they did a sexy photoshoot together. I lost trust in him when I saw it.”

  “Did he cheat on you?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Do you believe he did?”

  I had to think about that one. “No. No, I don’t think David would ever cheat on me.” Thoughts of being shirtless and lip locked with Harry began to bombard me, and I had to fight back tears. What had I done? Even if there was still a shot for us, I had set it on fire the moment I crossed the line with Harry.

  “Do you feel like you pushed him away to protect yourself?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, with a record deal there is the possibility of fame and fortune. Perhaps you were intimidated by his success.”

  “Maybe.” How was this making me feel better? All she was doing was pointing out my insecurities and making me out to be a shit girlfriend. Which I guess I had been.

  “Have you tried to reach out to him since you broke up?”

  “Yes.”

  “And, what happened?” She smiled. Why was she smiling?

  “He had his number changed, so that pretty much was a huge ‘we’re over’ neon sign for me.”

  She nodded. “Did you end it with him or vice-versa?”

  “I ended it.”

  Dr. Rivers nodded. “So perhaps he’s trying to respect your wishes. Give you both a new life.”

  Maybe I was jaded by romantic comedies and novels. Maybe I had expected David to fly to the United States that night and take me in his arms and kiss me in the rain. And maybe, when he didn’t, maybe I fell apart.

  “Before he left, he had given me a promise ring. I think I put a lot of stock in that little silver band. Like it was enough to keep us together.”

  She didn’t comment on the ring, which irked me. I thought about mentioning Beast but figured that was just as trivial to her. “So, what else happened, aside from ending things with David?”

  I forgot I had mentioned his name, so hearing her say it out loud was jarring. “Before we broke up, I missed him so much I would go to his apartment, just to sort of feel his presence, you know? I’d sleep in his bed and breathe in the remnants of his cologne.”

  “Did it help?”

  “No, I think it made me more love sick.” I took a breath. “And that’s when I started spending more time with Harry.”

  “Who’s Harry?”

  “David’s cousin and roommate.” She jotted that down. Why did she jot that down when she hadn’t written anything else before? Way to bring on the paranoia. For the first time, I was craving a pill. I could actually feel the powder in my nostril and started rubbing my nose, wanting to get high.

  “How did Harry make you feel?”

  Like I could fly.

  “Better. He would try to make me laugh. He held me when I cried and cooked for me. It was nice. He helped take the loneliness out of my life. It gave me a reason to be in David’s apartment without feeling pathetic.” She was tapping away at her iPad again. It was really annoying.

  She looked up. “Then what?”

  Exactly. Then what? How much do I tell this stranger? Not even Brit knew the whole story. “It was getting difficult to sleep. I missed David too much, and I would cry all the time…”

  She just stared at me, and I knew she wouldn’t comment until I had revealed my confession. “Harry offered me sleeping pills.”

  “How often did you take the pills?”

  “Not often. Two or three times.”

  She tapped away on the screen.

  “Did you take any other narcotics?”

  Narcotics. That was an odd word. I felt like I was on an episode of Law and Order. “Yeah. When David and I ended things, Harry offered me Demerol.”

  Dr. Rivers’ brow shot up, but she didn’t comment, only tapped away. “What is Harry’s last name?”

  “Why?”

  “If he was illegally giving you drugs, he needs to be reported for possession.”

  Was she for real? I shot up. “I think we’re done here.” I grabbed my coat and pulled open the door with such force I almost knocked myself out with it. Brit looked up from the waiting room copy of Cosmopolitan.

  “Kristen, I think there is more that we should discuss,” Dr. Rivers said.

  “Not today.” I gestured for Brit that it was time to go and got the hell out of dodge.

  As Brit drove back to the sorority house, I wanted to kick my boot-clad foot straight through her windshield. I knew she had good intentions, but this was horse shit. How dare that doctor put me in that kind of position? I thought that was meant to be a safe zone. It was a stupid set up.

  “So… didn’t go well?”

  “She wants to have Harry locked up.”

  “Wh-what? Why?”

  “For possession and dealing, I guess. He shared his prescription with me, Brit. That’s all. I shouldn’t have taken it. That’s on me.”

  “I never asked. What were the pills?”

  “Demerol.” Brit glanced away from the road and looked at me like I had just spoken in Russian. “Painkillers. Very strong painkillers.” Novocaine for the soul…

  “Painkillers,” she repeated. “How do you know he has a prescription for that stuff.”

  “He told me.” I thought about it but realized he never actually told me he had a prescription. Brit, however, was all over his lie.

  “Yes, but how do you know he was telling the truth? I mean, what injury or medical condition does he have that would warrant a prescription like that?”

  She had a point. That was the first time I ever questioned where he’d gotten all those magic pills. And I wondered if they were even what he said they were. And suddenly, I understood completely why my friends were so freaked out.

  “I don’t even know what Demerol is,” Brit said.

  I realized I didn’t either. I only knew what Harry had told me, and I blindly trusted him because I had no reason not to. I pulled out my phone and googled it. Words like addiction, opiate, and toxic appeared.

  What the hell had I done? I pulled down the mirror from the passenger visor and took a long hard look. Who the hell was that girl?

  TWENTY-NINE

  On Saturday, I went for a run, thrilled that I wasn’t as out of shape as I thought and happy to feel the natural rush of endorphins that comes from a little hard work. After my shower, I strolled down to the kitchen and poured myself a bowl of Special K. I was halfway through my cereal when Natalie flew in, looking flustered. “There you are! Why aren’t you dressed yet?”

  “Dressed?” I had slipped into yoga pants and an old T-shirt after my shower.

  “Yes. You have a hair appointment in forty minutes, then I thought we could squeeze in a manicure.”

  Crap. I had forgotten she had made me a hair appointment. “No offense, Nat, but I really want to relax today.”

  “Going to the salon is relaxing. Trust me, my place is great.”

  Twenty minutes later, I was beside Natalie in her car, my wet hair in a ponytail as she drove us into town. She was blathering on about the new guy, Enzo, she was interested in, but I couldn’t even feign interest. It was still early. Our appointments would take a few hours, but I might be able to salvage the rest of the day.

  I was surprised to find she hadn’t just made an appointment for a cut but color as well.

  “Color?” I picked up a strand of my brown hair. I’d had hi
ghlights before, but nothing more drastic than that.

  “Yes. You need a boost, and Brit and I agreed color would do the trick.”

  “I don’t know.” Color was Brit’s thing. I was perfectly content being the brunette of our group.

  “Just look at some swatches and see what the color artist recommends. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but I do think a little red could go a long way.” She winked and tossed her own red locks over her shoulder.

  Almost ninety minutes later, after being dyed, washed, cut, and blown out, I got a glimpse of the new Kristen. My hair hung in big, layered curls, and the new color was incredible. Dark cherry red. When the stylist first showed it to me, I thought she was kidding, but seeing it now, I couldn’t believe that was me.

  It was hard not to smile at the finished product. I felt better about myself than I had in a long time. “Natalie, you were right, this was exactly what I needed.”

  When we got back home, Brit practically leapt off the couch. “No way! It looks amazing!”

  “She fought me on it but finally caved,” Natalie said with a wink.

  “I’m glad I caved. It looks so good. I really love it.”

  “Yes, I agree. Too good to stay in. Let’s go out,” Brit suggested.

  “Out?” I asked, wanting to show off my new look, but still tempted by hiding in my room with a vat of Haagen-Dazs.

  “Yeah. Let’s have a girls’ night. See where the evening takes us and all that jazz.” Brit looked like her wheels were already turning.

  “No guys?” I asked skeptically.

  “No guys,” they agreed in unison.

  “Okay, why not?” I shrugged. “But no Draught and no frat bars.”

  “I can live with that,” Natalie said.

  “So, what do you want to do then?”

  I pondered it for a moment, then flashed the girls a broad smile. “I want a tattoo.”

  “She’s taking drugs again,” Natalie said, looking heartbroken.

  “I’m not taking anything. It’s something I was planning on doing with David, but seeing as he’s not here… Well, I still want it.”

  “What exactly do you want?” Brit asked, eyeing me skeptically.

  “Here, I have it in my phone.” I pulled out my cell and started scrolling back through pictures until I found it. It was staff lines with water color splotches and a very delicate G clef. I showed it to Brit. “I was planning on getting it before my Juilliard audition. I had hoped it would have brought me luck. But when David left, I canceled my appointment.”

  “I can’t believe you never told me about this. It’s so pretty, and very you.”

  “Like I said, it was something I had intended to do with David. He was going to get something similar. It was like this little secret between us that I didn’t want to share until I had it.”

  They both looked at each other and then at me, and it was hard to read their expressions. I suddenly felt embarrassed. Maybe I shouldn’t have told them. But then I realized they weren’t looking at me like I was crazy. They were looking at me like they felt sorry for me. I wasn’t sure what was worse. “It wasn’t just for luck. I mean, music is such a big part of who I am. And I want to make sure I don’t drift away from it, ya know? Anyway… it was just an idea.”

  “If you really want it, I say go for it,” Brit said.

  “Yeah, you don’t need a man to get a tat. Be your own person.”

  “You really think I should?”

  “Why not? It’s not so rare. So many people have one these days.” Brit waved her wrist at me, flaunting her star tat and the word forever.

  “There’s only one itsy bitsy problem. You don’t have an appointment for tonight,” Natalie pointed out.

  “I know, but I still think they would take me. I went a few times with David over the years. He was friends with the manager, and I think they would remember me. I mean, he was such a good client to them.” I laughed lightly. “David had full sleeves. He walked in, and they pretty much saw dollar signs.”

  “Is that the place that did his kiss tattoo when he just randomly walked in?” Brit asked. Ouch. I think she just punched me in the gut. Thanks for reminding me, little sis.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you know who did it?”

  “Yeah, Pete. He did most of David’s stuff.” Pete was older, in his late forties or early fifties, and was very talented. All of David’s tattoos were art, not just a random collection.

  “Cool. Then have him do this. The kiss mark he did on David’s neck looks like real lipstick. It has the cracks and everything. You’d never know it wasn’t Revlon. If he can do that, he can do this because water color is not the easiest ink to get right.”

  My nerves started twitching with doubt. “It’s not? It seemed simple.”

  “You just want to make sure it looks like someone painted you with watercolor. Not like this bold, splotchy, bursts of color. We’ll ask to see samples. Don’t worry, we won’t have you get in that chair until we approve it.”

  “I’m seriously going to get a tattoo? Tonight?” I was nervous but strangely excited.

  Natalie nodded. “If they have an appointment available, and we like his work, sure. Why not?”

  They had an appointment. And Pete was there, behind the counter, drawing in his sketch book like I had seen him do a hundred times before. There was the sound of buzzing coming from the back rooms, but other than that, the place was pretty empty. I guess they’d be able to take me after all.

  As soon as he saw me, he looked around for David. I’m sure it seemed natural that I would have come with him. I mean, why wouldn’t I have? “He’s in London,” I said before he even asked me.

  “Ha! Did he get deported?” Pete was always making wise cracks. But Natalie wasn’t accustomed to his humor.

  “He’s recording his first album,” she said rather snippy.

  Pete’s brows popped up. “Really? No shit! I heard him play once down at that little gothic coffee house. He had talent.” He looked off into the distance as though he were remembering David on stage. I knew that look because I did that every time I was at work. “Wow. I’m happy for him.”

  I didn’t answer, just nodded and smiled.

  “So, what brings you here, young lady? You gals want a piercing?” He pointed to the glass cabinet he was leaning against that had dozens of bars and studs. “We have a special on tongue studs this month.”

  “Ohhh.” Brit looked intrigued and stepped closer to the glass, but I pulled her back.

  “I can’t send you back to Erik with a bar going through your tongue.”

  She wagged her eyebrows at me. “I think Erik would like a bar in my tongue.”

  “Ha! You got that right,” Pete said, a huge grin on his face. Well, she had walked into that one.

  “Let’s focus on why we’re here. Kristen wants to see some examples of your watercolor tattoos,” Natalie said as though she were running a meeting. I had a feeling I knew who the next Delta Sig president would be.

  “Sure, I did a few this week.” He pulled out a laptop and opened his pictures. He spun the laptop around so I could see. They were good. Like really good. But I needed Brit’s approval. I stepped aside so she could look.

  “These are sick,” she said with a smile. “Like in a good way,” she corrected herself so as not to offend Pete. “Oh, he could totally give you the look you’re going for, Kris.”

  “This is what I want.” I pulled up the saved image and held out the phone to Pete.

  “Oh yeah, I can do that.” He pulled over his sketch pad and turned to a clean page. He drafted a sketch, and when he turned the book around, I was blown away. It was even more delicate and elegant than the one I had found online. I looked to Brit. She looked very impressed.

  “It’s awesome,” she said. “But I would add…” She grabbed his pencil and gave the staff lines a little flair so they didn't stop so abruptly. “There.” She turned the book so I could see. “How’s that?�
�

  “It’s perfect! And I love that you did that little detail. It’s like you’ll always be with me now, even after I graduate.”

  “Are you seriously trying to make me cry in the middle of a tattoo parlor?” Brit looked horrified at the thought. God forbid I shake her tough girl image.

  “Listen, don’t take this the wrong way, but I do this for a living, so having said that… if I may be so bold, if you’re looking to surprise David with some ink when he returns, may I suggest just below your panty line? Picture it… You guys are getting better acquainted and he discovers that… Boy will he be surprised.” Pete winked at me.

  “As tempting as that sounds, the tattoo isn’t for David, it’s for me. So I’m thinking here.” I held out my left wrist.”

  “Sure, I can do that. You’re the boss. Come with me.” The three of us followed him, and he stopped dead in his tracks.

  “I meant her, not you two.”

  “But they have to come with me. I need them for moral support.”

  “Sorry, honey, I can’t. Health codes and shit. It’s not my rule.”

  “Pete, I came back there with David all the time.”

  He twisted his face in frustration. I had him there. I decided to go in for the kill. “And I’d hate to have to tell him I got my first tattoo, scared and alone, because you wouldn’t let my sisters in with me.”

  “Sisters?” He eyed us skeptically.

  “Sorority, but it still counts.” Natalie put her hands on her hips.

  “All right, I can’t piss off my best client, but only one. So you gals toss a coin and meet me in the back.”

  I turned to Natalie, who waved us off. “I know you need to do this together. I’ll just be out here looking at bleeding skull art.” She pointed at the wall and shivered.

  “It might take about an hour,” Brit said, and I froze.

  “An hour? Seriously?”

  “Yeah, I mean, you don’t want him to rush this. It’s permanent.”

  “I’m scared.”

  “Don’t be. It’s a rite of passage.” She took my hand in hers. “Ready?”

  I nodded, wanting so bad to absorb some of her courage through my palm. We walked into the back room, and Pete already had rubber gloves on and was getting his needle and inks ready. I had seen this procedure so many times with David. The first few times, I was a nervous wreck, but then I got used to it. David was always so calm in the chair, and after a while, instead of freaking out, I started to see it as sexy. I loved that he wouldn’t get a new piece unless I was there. He always wanted my opinion, as if he was afraid to disrespect me by putting something on his body that might offend me. When we first started dating, I sort of shrugged it off and told him to get whatever he wanted. But after a while, I saw that he truly valued my opinion, and that made me take an interest in his little hobby. I no longer saw the tattoos as a fad or a phase of his life. They told a story, and they truly were a carefully crafted masterpiece wrapped around his arms.