He smiled. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”
E. J. considered him briefly. “Maybe you will,” she said thoughtfully.
*
At six fifteen, E. J. heard a car pull into the driveway. She switched on the broiler and ignited the burner beneath the water for the pasta. All the prep work was finished. All that remained was the actual cooking. E. J. never spent a lot of time in the kitchen, but she always made sure it was time well spent if she did.
“Hi,” Jinx said as she came in. Her expression was difficult to read. It seemed to hold a mixture of pleasure and anxiety, along with maybe a little gratitude.
E. J. smiled. “Hi. How was your day?”
Jinx glanced at the counter. “I thought you’d be gone,” she said, ignoring E. J.’s question.
E. J. considered making a joke, but at the thought of the number of people who had left Jinx, decided against it. “I want to finish our conversation,” she said, hoping to reassure her. “Besides, you said I could stay the weekend.” She dropped some butter into a frying pan on the stove. “Hungry?”
Jinx grinned. “Starving. And something smells great. I’ll get cleaned up.” As she headed to the bathroom, she slowed. “What’s that?” She walked to the dinette and picked up the sheet from Pablo’s sketch pad E. J. had found propped against the front door when she had returned from the store.
It was a fully detailed sketch of E. J. leaning on the open door of her car, gazing up at the artist. When she had seen it, she had tried to remember if she had actually been in that position during their conversation. There was a split second just before she climbed behind the wheel, and Pablo had captured it perfectly, even a little flatteringly, E. J. thought. “I met your neighbor,” E. J. said, dumping the minced garlic into the melted butter.
“So it seems.” Jinx studied the picture. “You must have made a good impression.”
“Always,” E. J. said teasingly.
Jinx laughed. “No doubt.”
“He has a lot of talent. Does he paint, too?”
“When he has paints. They don’t have a lot of money.” Jinx laid the sketch on the table. “And when he does get money from…you know…he usually gives it to his mom.”
“Ah, yes,” E. J. said. “I did learn he’s your real security, and the reason my car hasn’t been stolen.”
Jinx chuckled. “No doubt about that either.”
“He also said you help his little sister with her homework?”
“They’re good kids, and their mother works hard. Pablo’s just a little misdirected.”
E. J.’s attention was on stirring the garlic to keep it from burning, but she remembered the teardrop tattoo. “Has he been in prison?”
“Not yet.” Jinx’s tone was resigned.
E. J. tensed. “Has he killed someone? I read once that a teardrop means one of those two things.”
“It can also mean some other things,” Jinx said. “Pablo got his to honor his best friend, who was killed in a street fight.”
E. J. sighed in relief. “I’m sorry he lost his friend, but I’m so glad he didn’t kill anyone. He seems like a nice kid.”
“I’ll get cleaned up,” Jinx said again. Then she was gone.
What was that? Had E. J. said something wrong? All she had said was…Did Jinx kill someone? She said she hadn’t in that…what had she called it? A turf war? But maybe…E. J.’s hand shook. No. She wasn’t going there. She was going to assume the best about Jinx unless and until Jinx told her differently. Wasn’t that the very reason she had stayed—to hear the rest of the story?
By the time Jinx returned, E. J. was draining the cooked pasta, and the lobster tails were under the broiler. The table was set.
Jinx opened the refrigerator as E. J. poured the tomato, garlic, and basil mixture over the noodles and tossed it together for capellini pomodoro. “Will you grab the salads while you’re in there?” E. J. asked, opening the oven door. “And there’s a bottle of Caesar dressing on the top shelf.”
“Sure. I need to make something for Kenny real quick,” she said, studying the contents.
“Already done. And I took it over to him. He was at that house across the street.”
Jinx looked at her. “Oh. Thanks. That was nice of you. What did you make him?”
“A lobster tail, capellini pomodoro, and a Caesar salad,” E. J. said, dishing up the seafood and pasta. “Same as us. I just did his earlier since he seemed to be waiting.”
Jinx blinked. “You made Kenny lobster?”
“Mm-hm.”
Jinx laughed. “He was probably as excited as I am. I can’t remember the last time I had lobster.”
“That’s what he said. The two of you need to get out more.” E. J. set the two plates on the table. “The salads?”
“He talked to you?” Jinx brought the bowls and the dressing and sat down, looking confused.
“He said thank you and that he hadn’t had a meal like this in a very long time.” E. J. set an open bottle of sparkling cider and two glasses of ice on the table and lowered herself into the chair across from Jinx. “Why?”
Jinx paused. “He doesn’t usually talk.” She stared at E. J. “How’d you get him to talk?”
“I just talked to him. I introduced myself and told him you weren’t home yet but that I’d made his dinner.” E. J. filled Jinx’s glass, then her own. “He did look a little scared at first, but then he thanked me and said he hadn’t had lobster in a long time. He seemed excited.”
“Huh. That’s more than he’s said to me in all the time I’ve known him.”
E. J. smiled. “Don’t take it personally. Maybe I just caught him on a good day.”
“He must like you better.”
E. J. laughed gently. “You feed him every night. I just showed up today. I doubt he’s thrown you over.”
Jinx smiled, but her expression was distracted.
They ate quietly for a few minutes, then Jinx commented on how good dinner was. A longer stretch of silence followed.
E. J. watched her. “Are you nervous about the rest of our conversation?”
“Yes,” Jinx said matter-of-factly.
“Me, too.” E. J. hoped confessing her own apprehension wouldn’t make it harder for Jinx. “Should we just dive in?”
Jinx considered her. “Will you do something for me first?”
E. J. saw the vulnerability in Jinx’s eyes, the reluctance in her expression. “What do you need, sweetie?”
Jinx swallowed. “Will you tell me some things about you? About your life? Your childhood?”
For the first time, E. J. realized how one-sided things had become in the last couple of days, how much Jinx had put herself out there while E. J. had risked nothing. The dynamic wasn’t unusual for E. J. She rarely risked anything with the women she saw. Jinx was obviously different, though, and she finally had to fully admit that—at least, to herself. “What do you want to know?”
Jinx shrugged. “Anything. Tell me about your mother. I’m curious about a woman who would name her baby Echo.”
“Ah, my mother.” E. J. laughed softly. “What can I say about her?” She hadn’t thought about her mother in quite a while. She hadn’t actually spoken about her in much longer, and that had only been in therapy. A wave of inadequacy washed through her. And there’s why. “My mother was terrified of being ordinary, which included being terrified of having an ordinary child.”
“So, she named you after a mythological Nymph?”
E. J. smiled. “She thought it was exotic.”
“How did it get changed to E. J.?” Jinx took a bite of pasta.
“My grandfather didn’t think it was exotic,” E. J. said, remembering him warmly. “He said it was pretentious and always called me E. J. I spent a lot of time with my grandparents, so by the time I started school, I was more used to E. J. than Echo.”
“Your mom didn’t mind?”
“As long as I was what she wanted me to be when I was around her, she didn’t c
are. When I was with her, in her world, I was always Echo or Echo Jenay. And I was dressed up, and I behaved appropriately, and I didn’t cause her embarrassment or scandal. As long as I remembered that, we got along fine.”
“And your dad?”
“My dad wasn’t around,” E. J. said, leaning back in her chair. “He didn’t care about any of it.” She studied Jinx and thought about the similarities in their stories. Neither of them were accepted for who they were, not by their parents, although E. J., at least, had her grandparents. Jinx had Andrea when she was young, and maybe that guy Luke. That was as far as it went, though. E. J. knew nothing she shared about her childhood could compare to what Jinx had been through. “My mother married my father for his money and the lifestyle he could provide. My father liked having a wife whose priority it was to maintain the family image of respectability while looking the other way while he had all the affairs he wanted. It was a match made in heaven. It wasn’t love, but as long as we all played our parts, everyone got along.”
“Are they still alive?” Jinx ate some lobster.
“My father is,” E. J. said, noting the enjoyment on Jinx’s face. “But I haven’t seen him in years. My mother died ten years ago.”
“You don’t miss them?”
E. J. had never really thought about it. “To be honest, there really wasn’t that much to miss,” she said. “I miss my grandparents, though. They were the ones I really knew loved me.” She looked around the room. “This place reminds me a lot of their house. I spent a lot of time there.”
Jinx arched an eyebrow. “Really? I pictured your childhood in a big mansion like Andrea’s.”
“Well, that’s officially where I lived. But my grandparents owned a small bar and grill, lived in a little place like this one, and that’s where I felt at home. Where I felt loved.”
Jinx finished the last of her salad and cleared her dishes. “Thank you,” she said, returning for E. J.’s. “For telling me all that.”
It had been the most E. J. had ever shared in one sitting, except maybe with her therapist, or Gwen and Taylor. She felt exposed, but she couldn’t say that to Jinx, not with everything Jinx was revealing. She just smiled. “You’re welcome.”
An awkward moment stretched between them.
“So, I guess it’s my turn,” Jinx said, taking her seat again. “Is there anything in particular you want to know? Anything you thought of from last night?”
Here it was, the moment she could ask her earlier question. But she didn’t. “Just start where we left off, I suppose.”
“Okay.” Jinx took a deep breath. “When I ran away, I didn’t have a clue where to go, or what to do. I had some money, but it ran out pretty fast. After a while, I found a group of kids, other runaways, and hooked up with them. I was hurting so badly. I missed Andi so much. I’d missed her before, when I was still at the house, but I hadn’t realized how much just being there around her, having the memories, and having Luke helped. I couldn’t stand it. One day, Paul, one of the kids on the street, offered me something. Drugs. I don’t even remember what kind. Maybe I never knew. I took it, and for the first time in a long time, I wasn’t in pain.” Jinx gave E. J. a questioning look as if asking if she understood.
E. J. nodded.
“When it wore off, the pain came back, so I took more. And that’s how it all started. You can get food from church food banks or Dumpsters behind restaurants, but drugs…to get those, you need money. A constant stream of it. And every time I emptied from the drugs, the pain filled that space up again, so I made sure I was never empty. Paul and Rainbow and Dirk and I, we just stayed high. We did whatever we needed to do for our next fix. We started out stealing from unlocked cars or open garages, taking anything we could sell. After a while, we started breaking into houses. Then one day, Dirk got the idea of robbing a liquor store, and Paul convinced us we’d get more from a bank.” Jinx laughed humorlessly. “God, drugs make you stupid.” She leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knees. “By that time, I was strung out on heroin and crack, and I would have done anything.”
E. J. was speechless. She couldn’t imagine any of the things Jinx was telling her. She couldn’t imagine Jinx doing any of them, not the Jinx of today, not her Jinx. She didn’t have to say anything, though. Jinx seemed to have gone someplace far away.
“We picked a bank near a freeway on-ramp for our big escape, and we went in right after it opened, so there’d be fewer people. When we walked in, I could smell the floor polish, feel the chill coming off the granite counters and all the steel and glass. I could see people’s lips moving, but all I could hear was the pounding of my heart and the rush of blood in my ears. I was so scared. I could feel the weight of the pistol in my jacket pocket.” Jinx paused, inhaling deeply. She trembled slightly. “Paul started yelling at everyone to get down on the floor. I pulled out my gun and started doing the same, but when I spun around, there was this old lady. She was terrified. I was standing there with my pistol pointed right in her face. Then she grabbed at her chest and cried out. She started to fall. I dropped my gun and tried to catch her. And then there was a shot, and I went down. “
Every muscle in E. J.’s body was taut. She stared at Jinx. “Your other scar.”
Jinx nodded, still distant.
“Who shot you?”
Jinx ran her hand over her face. “The commotion with the old lady distracted Paul, and the security guard jumped him. Paul’s gun went off in the struggle. He punched out the guard, and he and Dirk and Rainbow ran, but I couldn’t get up.”
E. J. had to ask. “Did the woman die?”
“No.” Jinx swallowed. “She had a heart attack, but they got her to the hospital in time.”
“Because you tried to help her, and it stopped the robbery.”
Jinx held her head in her hands. She scoffed. “Don’t try to make me a hero, E. J. It was my fault she had the heart attack to begin with.”
But she had tried to help her. Would a real criminal have done that? E. J. combed her fingers through Jinx’s hair. “What happened to your friends?”
Jinx shrugged. “I never saw them again.”
“You didn’t turn them in? They weren’t tried with you?”
Jinx shook her head. “They were my family,” she said quietly. “The only family I had.”
“But they left you.” E. J. knew she was talking about something she had no concept of, but she was trying to understand. “You might have gotten less of a sentence if you’d turned them in.”
“They were my family,” Jinx said flatly, the subject obviously closed.
“And Nora and Andrea never came looking for you in all that time?”
“No. I don’t blame them, though. I was so messed up by then,” Jinx said, straightening in her chair. “Andrea came to my trial one day. I saw her in the back when they brought me into the courtroom. I think she was crying later in the day, but I’m not sure. She never came back.”
E. J. searched Jinx’s face. She saw fatigue, worry, regret, and fear. But mostly, she still saw the Jinx she knew, not the child who had lost her mother and been unprotected by her father, not a runaway, or a drug addict, or a criminal. She saw Jinx Tanner, whose beautiful blue eyes had met E. J.’s that first night and held her captive, who touched her so tenderly and deeply, who made her laugh and feel safe and happy just by being who she was. How could she reconcile what she knew of Jinx with everything she had been told in the last two days? Did she have to? After all, wasn’t the important thing who a person is now?
She couldn’t think anymore, and yet later, she couldn’t stop. They had left the heavy stuff for a while, talking about lighter, surface things before going to bed. She lay with Jinx in her arms, Jinx’s gentle breathing calming her and, at the same time, raising new questions with each inhalation. She dozed in and out of restless dreams. She woke each time Jinx’s body jerked. She soothed her back to sleep from obvious nightmares. Finally, in the gray light of dawn, E. J. woke with a jolt, Jacob’s i
mage still in her mind.
The dream had been short but startling.
“I don’t even know you. How can you be my mother?” His face loomed in the darkness, angry and contorted. “It’s bad enough you’re a dyke, but then you come home with a criminal as well. And the one hated member of my wife’s family.”
E. J.’s biggest fear had always been that he would find out she was gay and despise her for it, but now…This was all so much worse—or would be, if he really did learn about her relationship with Jinx. And how could he not…eventually? What was I thinking? That I could just sneak into town whenever I want, see Jinx, and sneak out again? Had she thought if she only saw Jinx in the insulated little world they had created, if she kept it compartmentalized and separate from the rest of her life, it could go on indefinitely? Sooner or later, she was bound to be found out, and now that she knew why Jinx was really the black sheep of her family…She was sure by this time Jacob knew all about Tiffany’s mystery aunt. Tiffany would have told him about her blowup with her mother and how she had invited Jinx to the wedding over Andrea’s objections. Then, on top of that, if—or when—he found out his own mother was sleeping with her…E. J.’s stomach soured with anxiety.
Jinx shifted beside her. “Baby, you awake?” she whispered.
The endearment threatened to choke E. J. She remained still. She closed her eyes and fought to keep her breathing even. Her heart beat so hard from her dream, she couldn’t imagine how Jinx couldn’t feel it or hear it.
Jinx eased out of bed.
E. J. listened to the sound of Jinx’s bare feet on the linoleum, then heard the bathroom door close before she opened her eyes. She couldn’t shake the dream’s words, her own fears. Tension twisted her stomach. She felt nauseous. She had always known the risk of acting on her attraction to women. For years, she had sworn she would never do it, at first because her mother would never accept it, then later, even more strongly, because of Jacob’s ordeal at age ten, when he was molested by a man from down the street. She had felt so guilty. She had been so wrapped up in her work and social events as Marcus’s wife. She had hired people to watch the kids, but when everything came to light, as ridiculous as it was, she told herself if she had been there, it wouldn’t have happened. Then there was the day in family therapy when Jacob was fourteen that he denounced all gays as deviants and perverts. I fucking hate them all, he had screamed. E. J. had known there was no correlation between a pedophile and being gay, but Jacob hadn’t. Both she and his therapist had tried to explain it, but Jacob refused, or was unable, to hear it.
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