“Shit,” mutters Jose.
“Look Jose, You've been his friend longer than me, is he gonna be all right?”
Jose thinks, says, “Probably not. I better go find him, take him to some nice bar far far away from the red menace.”
“I didn't think she'd be here. She's never here.”
“S'alright. You OK to get home?”
“Oh yeah, don't worry about me.”
Jose takes a swig of his beer and starts to get out his wallet, but Amelia waves him away. “I'll get it, just go find him.”
Jose smiles ruefully at her, “Thanks,” then he heads out.
Amelia turns back to the bar and orders a fuzzy navel. One good thing, the guys didn't hear her order the sissy drink.
chapter 88 . . .
Liz kills the Tetris game she's been playing when she sees Detective Lewis leading Boris toward her. She stuffs the phone in her pocket.
Boris asks, “Where is she?”
Liz nods back at the office and says, “She's asleep. I just want to get her back to the hospital.”
“Can I have a minute with her?” Liz nods, and Boris heads into the office while Liz calls a cab.
Boris goes in and just stares at his sleeping friend a moment. A great lump is forming in his throat. He brushes at his eyes, but gets himself together. Crossing to where Natasha slumps awkwardly in the chair, he squats beside her.
From the doorway Lewis watches as the intensity of his gaze makes Natasha open her eyes. When Natasha sees Boris her relief is visible as she relaxes and gives him a wan smile.
“Oh Bo, you're OK.”
“Of course I'm okay, but you're not, idiot. What the hell are you doing out of the hospital? You look like shit. Your skin is gray.”
“I couldn't stand by and let 'em give you the third degree.”
“It's okay, they didn't even use rubber hoses. I'm fine.”
“But you were in trouble.”
“The best thing you can do for me is for you to get better. Liz is calling a cab and we're gonna take you back and you are going to stay in the hospital until the doctors say you can go home if I have to get them to tie you to the bed, you hear?”
Natasha smiles wanly at Boris. “If you visit me every day.”
Lewis thinks it's a touching scene.
Trouble is, she's seen too many instances of people hurting the ones they love.
chapter 89 . . .
Jose sees Eric disappear ahead of him on the forest path. It is cold. Pulling the zipper of his jacket all the way up to his neck still doesn't warm him up, so Jose jogs after, hoping the activity will help. But where did he go?
There he is.
“Hey Eric, wait up!” he calls into the night.
But Eric turns off the pavement and heads into the forest. “Jeeze,” mutters Jose, “I don't need this shit.”
Jose steps up his pace, catching up to where he thinks Eric might have gone off the path, but there is no obvious indication. Jose is no tracker, he is pure city boy.
“ERIC,” he bellows. “Where the hell are you, you asshole?” Jose strains to hear, briskly rubbing his arms, then stamping his feet, trying to stay warm. Fat chance. It is goddamn cold out here. He peers into the adjoining forest. Can't see nothin' for the goddamn trees.
“Damn it Eric it's cold out here.”
“Just leave me the fuck alone!”
Jose moves through the underbrush in the direction of the voice. “You got no call to sit out here and freeze to death over some no account bitch. You don't have to hang with me man, just come back to the Res. I'll even give you my forty pounder of Jack Daniels. You can drink all by your lonesome if you want.”
“It's only half a bottle and you know it, you prick.”
Jose steps into a small clearing. He's sure this is where the voice was coming from. But there is no sign. Where is Eric?
“Come on out, you goof. Where the hell are you?”
“None of your fucking business, man. Just go away.”
The voice is right there, but Jose can't see anything. He peers into the shadows. Then he looks up. Sure enough, Eric's legs dangle from a branch in an oak tree.
“She's not worth it man. Get your head outta your ass. You're gonna get thrown outta Christie you miss more classes.”
“Go 'way.”
“Hey man it's cold. It's winter. C'mon down.”
“You think this is winter you're in for a surprise.”
“You'll be surprised when I pound you into dog food.”
“I like it up here just fine. You go on without me.”
“You stay there you're gonna get hypothermia. She's still back at the bar. Look, you want her to know she's fucked you up?”
“No way, Jose.”
“Then get your ass down here.”
“Okay, okay. I'm coming.” Jose watches in horror as Eric just lets go and starts to topple off the branch.
“Wait, grab on!” yells Jose, startled, Eric grabs hold, and swings from the branch, feet dangling a few feet above the ground.
“Don't just fall out you shit, you break something I can't carry you back, just hang on, hang on.” Eric dangles patiently while Jose positions himself just out of range, ready to do his best to assist the landing. “Okay, come on down.”
Eric lets go and drops gracefully to the ground, allowing his legs to absorb the impact.
Jose plants his hands on his hips. “You've done that before.”
“No shit Sherlock. I'm a tree climbin' boy from way back. I like trees.”
“I'm turning blue here man, and you're being an asshole.”
“You play your cards right maybe I'll let you have some J.D. Maybe help you get warmed up.”
Jose shakes his head in disgust and starts through the trees.
Eric follows, biting his tongue, deciding he'd better not rag Jose about being a “city boy” again.
chapter 90 . . .
Barbie smiles her thanks at Billie the bartender as she pays for two more bottles of beer, then carries to the back booth. Tamara looks fairly wretched.
“Why does he hafta be such a jerk, y'know? Just go to school, do whatcha gotta do. How hard is that? There's more to life than playing allatime.”
§
Elsie and Harry are gone and Amelia sits in Elsie's seat between Maggie and Mouse. At the end of the bar Kate leans in and says, “No one was more surprised than I was when Elsie showed up with Mouse and Maggie. I think this is the first time I've seen her in here.”
“Maybe she's having a hard time finding guys?” says Amelia.
Kate laughs. “Elsie? I doubt it. All she has to do is flip that hair and every male for miles around jumps to attention.”
“I don't know, she's been pretty sexually active. I mean, if, uh, you know there's a Lotta concern about STDs out there.” Maggie glances at Amelia, “Oh, hey, I'm sorry, I . . .”
“Sorry?” Amelia frowns. “What?”
Maggie says, “Poor guy. You know what they say, everyone your partner and all their partners . . .”
“You think . . .” Amelia frowns. “Wait a minute. I haven't slept with Eric. We're just friends.”
Kate shrugs, “Well, Nick says Elsie's at the top of her class, so she's probably smart enough to use protection anyway.”
The door swings open and Oscar and Quentin come in, Maggie waves and they drift over to join the girls at the bar, rubbing their hands together.
“Good evening ladies. How is everyone?”
“Just lovely, Oz.” smiles Kate. “You guys look cold.”
“We escorted Krystal to her car, which was farther than I realized. I do believe I'll be digging out my woollens.”
“Still finding Canada a bit cold?”
“Yes,” says Oscar, “but this year I am prepared.”
Mouse leans in front of Oscar to ask Quentin, “Excuse me, Q, have you heard anything more about Natasha?”
“She'll survive, Mouse. She's busted up but there's no brain damage
. They're keepin'her in the hospital another day for observation to make sure. She was beaten pretty badly.”
Mouse sighs. “She'll get better then, that's good.”
Oscar says, “I can't urge you ladies enough, stick together until they get the bastard. Don't go anywhere without a buddy.”
There's a general wave of nodding through the company and Quentin says, “I just want a quick draught and then I need to head home hopefully in time to catch a word with my wife.”
“Uh, Q . . .” Mouse stops him. “Tamara's here.”
Quentin raises his eyebrows. “Where?”
Mouse nods. “In the booth at the back.”
Quentin gets to his feet and heads toward the back booth.
Maggie leans in, “What was that all about?”
Mouse sighs. “Paradise Lost, I think.”
Barbie looks miserable sitting on the outer bench, Tamara sprawls at the back of the booth, slumped against the wall in the corner. The table is littered with empty glasses and beer bottles.
Tamara opens bleary eyes as Quentin slides in beside Barbie, and says, “Hey, doll.”
Barbie rolls her eyes and looks away. Tamara sits up at the sound of his voice, and she focuses on Quentin. “Look what the cat dragged in.”
He smiles at her. “Babe, I missed you.”
“Missed me.” Shaking her head, Tamara leans toward Barbie. “You hear that? Says he missed me.” Turning back to Quentin, she glowers. “If you missed me . . . if you . . . if you gave a shit you woulda . . . would a . . . aw shit . . . I am so mad at you.”
Quentin turns to Barbie asking, “She's mad because?”
“You stood her up again, you didn't even come home.”
“I'm sorry, Tam, I was gonna see you last night. I tried calling but you never answered. It went straight to voicemail.”
“You didn't leave a message, you din . . . din call back.”
“No I didn't. Stuff happened, I was busy . . .” he shakes his head. “Look, I'm really sorry. I was going to . . .”
“I'm sorry our marriage isn't 'portnat to you, goddammit.” Tamara slides along the bench and out of the booth.
“It is important, I was on my way home when Jake asked me . . .”
“Always time for a bud, eh, Q. Just never any for me.”
“. . . to help search for Natasha.”
Tamara doesn't make the connection as she sways drunkenly beside the booth, but Barbie does. “That's the girl who was attacked.”
“Yes. And when we found her we had to wait on cops and paramedics. And then we all went along to the hospital, and you know I couldn't even text you then, Tam.”
Tamara blinks. “Oh.”
“She'd been laying out there unconscious for hours. They think she was attacked in the afternoon.”
Barbie shivers and says, “It got below freezing last night.”
Tamara softening. “The girl gonna be okay?”
“How right can anyone be after that? I don't know. But I was on my way home. Then everything happened so fast.”
“So one time you had a good reason.”
“Look, Tam, why don't we go home. Talk there.”
Tamara makes eye contact with Quentin, or tries to. It's just that focusing is so damn difficult.
“Come on, we can work it out. We always have before.”
Which is what he always says.
“No Q, we don't. Talk tomorrow. I'll call.”
“I love you babe.” Quentin turns on his heel.
Tamara watches him walk away through blurry eyes. Moving fast. Not looking back. Watches him open the door and go.
Barbie realizes that she's never really liked Q. Good riddance. When she's thinking clearly, even Tamara will probably realize she'll be better off without him. Calling her 'doll.' What a jerk.
“Are you all right?” Barbie asks, for the first time realizing that her swaying friend might not be. Tamara reaches for the booth back hoping for support but ends up nose down on the bench. From under the table she says, “I'm OK.”
“Maybe we should just go.” When there's no response Barbie gets up and goes around the table to check. “Tamara?”
“Yeah.” Barbie helps Tamara sit. “God, I'm wrecked.”
“I think it's safe to say you've had too much to drink.”
Tamara says. “Maybe we just need one for the road.”
“I don't think so.” Barbie reaches out a hand and Tamara takes it and Barbie pulls her friend to her feet.
Tamara says, “Maybe we could just sit, I feel a bit rocky.”
Barbie shakes her head, sliding her arm around Tamara's shoulder. “Let's get you some fresh air, be good as new.”
Barbie heads for the exit, half dragging Tamara.
Tamara suddenly swivels and pulls Barbie into a bear hug, says, “Jus a minute.”
At a loss what to do, Barbie stands there, feeling exceedingly stupid as Tamara continues clutching at her, rocking, shaking. Oh god, she's crying. “Lets just go outside. It's only a few more feet.” But Tamara just hugs her tighter. “Come on Tamara. Just walk.”
Barbie tries to give her a push start and suddenly Tamara lets go and pulls back, her eyes roll around then focus on Barbie. Tamara's eyes clear as she smiles at her friend, but then she sways and leans forward, suddenly she's throwing up all over Barbie's matching skirt and shoes.
“Oh, gross!” shrieks Barbie. Leaping backward out of her shoes onto dry floor, leaving her pumps in the pool of vomit. “Oh Tamara, what a mess.”
Disgusted to see Tamara doesn't have a drop on herself, Barbie snaps, “Just sit down and wait for me.” As she bends to pick up her shoes, Barbie realizes this will be quite the trick since she doesn't want to actually touch the shoes since they are covered. Suppressing a shudder, Barbie sticks her hands inside them since that's the only clean part.
Wearing the filthy shoes like weird mittens, she hurries along the aisle on her way to the Ladies room.
Mouse watches Barbie's progress from the bar, not at first understanding why her friend is wearing her shoes on her hands. She can tell there is a problem, though, so Mouse asks, “Is everything okay?”
“No.” snaps Barbie without stopping.
Mouse gets the picture when she looks back to see Tamara staring stupidly at the puddle by her feet.
Kate and Amelia follow Maggie over to find out what's happening. Mouse frantically signals Billie and the bartender hurries down the bar.
“Billie,” Mouse asks, “Perhaps you have towels?”
Billie reaches under the counter, coming up with a wad of terry cloth hand towels she hands to Mouse.
“What's up?” asks Maggie while Mouse heads for Tamara.
Shaking her head at the state Tamara is in, Billie the bartender comes out from behind the bar and tells Maggie, “The other one's in the washroom. I'm going in back for the mop. Mind the store a minute?”
“Sure.” Maggie steps behind the bar and can't resist texting Stu. Billie goes in back, Kate heads for the bathroom and Amelia helps Mouse with Tamara.
Reduced to blouse and underwear Barbie is bent over the sink trying to rinse out her skirt when Kate looks in.
“God. She really got you, huh?” Kate observes. “Anything I can do to help?”
Barbie says, “Hosing down my shoes would be good.”
Kate comes in, letting the door swing shut behind her. Seeing each vomit soaked shoe resting discarded in separate sinks, Kate carefully turns on the taps, not wanting to be splattered.
“Good thing it's all liquid,” says Kate, watching the smelly mess swirl down the drain.
Barbie shakes her head, twisting the sodden skirt to ring it out. “If I'd known this was gonna happen I'd have sent her home with Q and it would be him cleaning it up. Bastard.”
Kate smiles, “Next time. Look, even if they come clean you can't go out in those clothes, you'll freeze. How about I get Nick to bring a change of clothes so you can get home?”
Although horri
fied at the idea, Barbie realizes she has no choice, so she agrees without enthusiasm. “Thanks.”
chapter 91 . . . friday
Liz has dark circles under her eyes as she comes into the kitchen. The sink is full of unwashed dishes which she stacks neatly on the counter, then rinses her favourite mug under running water. A glimpse of the crud encrusted on the tea towel hanging on the stove makes her opt to let the mug air dry.
The coffee carafe gets the same treatment before Liz rummages in the cupboard looking for the tin. She pulls it down and squints at the contents. No way.
Liz squeezes her eyes closed, but when she opens them again nothing has changed. There's barely enough coffee for a weak pot. A small pot. Scooping the coffee into the filter she decides maybe there's enough for eight wimpy cups. So she'll make six okay cups. Liz adds a dash of salt, then slides the filter basket in and pours the water through. Waiting, she stretches like a cat, then begins doing a few warm-ups.
Touching her toes she is startled to see the shadow of a person stretching across the floor between her legs.
At the realization that she's not alone Liz straightens up abruptly and whirls around to see Ethan leaned up against the door frame with a huge grin on his face.
“You don't have to stop on my account,” he raises his eyebrows rakishly.
“Don't sneak up in me like that,” she snaps.
His face falls. “Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, I just wanted to walk you to class.”
“You didn't scare me, you startled me is all.” She turns to pour herself a cup of coffee, then opens the refrigerator. No milk. No half and half. Resigned, she gets the powdered stuff out, chisels off a chunk off and plops it in her cup. “You didn't used to walk me to class.”
“You didn't used to be my girlfriend. I mean,” he pauses, watching Liz stir her coffee, not looking at him, “You are my girlfriend, aren't you?”
Liz sips her coffee, then turns to face him. “I don't know. I'm not sure I want a boyfriend. Lets just say we're dating, okay?”
“Uh, I'm not quite sure I see the difference. I always thought dating is what makes people girlfriends or boyfriends.”
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