by Ashley Munoz
I should have known that by offering to take Jones and Adams to one of the nicest clubs in Rockford, that they would act like total assholes and demand the entire VIP treatment; including the women. Where they found these ridiculous women, I didn’t know, but they all looked fake and plastic. They had “one” for me too. A tall blonde, with drawn-on eyebrows, a fake tan, and low self-respect, based on the way she was pawing at me with absolutely no returned interest or given any physical encouragement. I was miserable, and while all the other women sat on the men’s laps, poor Christie was left sitting next to me. I wouldn't pay her any attention and when she tried to rub my thigh, I pushed her hand away. I ignored the group’s laughter and conversation, since I had no interest in being a part of it. Instead, I busied myself with watching the lower floor.
After a while, I caught sight of a tall woman with straight hair that was Ramsey’s color, in a black dress. She reminded me so much of Ramsey that it hurt. I followed her with my eyes all the way to the bar, and watched her as she whispered in some guy's ear. I tried to watch other people and get my mind off of Ramsey and how much that woman looked like her, but my eyes kept finding her. It wasn’t until she got her drink and she stalked off with a shorter blonde that I noticed the woman's face.
Ramsey. No, it couldn't be her. My mind was just playing tricks on me. Still, I stood up, walked away from the booth, and tried to follow her through the crowd with my eyes. What if it was her? What was she doing here? Why was she talking to that guy? Emotions were swirling through me as I locked my gaze onto the back of the woman’s head and tried to watch her as she joined the other people dancing. I lost her in the crowd a few times, but then the guy from the bar stalked forward and stopped in the middle, putting his arms around someone.
No. This wasn't happening, he wasn't dancing with her. The crowds shifted and moved, I did too, so I had a better view. I could see that he had a hold of her by the hips, and that dead and buried anger was resurrecting itself again. Heat hit my face. I could feel it moving to the tips of my ears. I looked down, I couldn’t watch someone who might be Ramsey dance with some guy who was pulling her ass into his crotch. There wasn’t enough willpower on the planet that would allow me to.
I watched the floor for a few moments, swallowing the lump that had lodged itself there. I glanced back up, heat still stinging my face, I shoved my hands into my pockets, so that I wouldn’t use them to shove forward and down to her. I noticed she kept trying to look back, and I wished I could see her face so badly. The guy was too close to her. I realized that if that really was Ramsey, she would never let a stranger hold her like that, unless she was wasted, or he wasn't a stranger. I didn't have a chance to draw a full conclusion on that thought, because suddenly the woman threw her head back and hit the guy's nose. Blood was everywhere and an instant later, she turned to knee him in the balls.
Oh shit.
I could see her, perfectly, and my breath caught. It was Ramsey, it was really her. Every single bone in my body, every drop of blood running in my veins, screamed at me to rush down there and finish what Ramsey had started, but then she saw me. I wanted to murder that guy, so I could only imagine what my face reflected. Christy chose that moment to walk up and put her fake manicured hand on my chest, like she fucking knew me, and tried to pull me back to the booth. I couldn't see Ramsey’s face very well, with the lights and the darkness, but from where I stood, I could make out that she looked pissed. Then she was gone, pushing her way towards the back part of the club where the restrooms were. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I turned to the guys.
“Hey I need to go see what all the commotion is down there. I see one of my employee’s talking to the bouncer, I’ll be right back.”
Jessica was talking to a bouncer, so I wasn’t lying, but I walked past her and headed for where Ramsey disappeared to. The hallway was darker, with just a few lights in the ceiling. This was a fancier club, so they had the nice pampering rooms with sofas, and couches in each restroom before the actual stalls and sinks. I waited for the hall to clear and headed into the women’s restroom. Thankfully, it was empty, which was an oddity for a club this size, but maybe it was just a divine moment from the big guy upstairs. I didn’t care, I just cared that Ramsey was somewhere in there. I walked forward on the hardwood floors, past the white couches, and floor to ceiling mirrors, towards one of the private stalls. I knocked and heard sniffling. I waited and knocked again.
Then I heard Ramsey say, “Jessica, I just need a second, okay?” I stayed quiet, then I knocked again. I heard the door handle move, then Ramsey say with exasperation, “Look, I just need a second… Can—” She opened the door a crack, and I pushed my way in.
I shut the door quickly behind me and locked it. The private stall was a complete shut in room with a toilet and sink. It was lined with white brick and wood floors, and floor to ceiling mirrors that Ramsey had just walked back up against.
She crossed her arms, her face was red, and her eyebrows shot up in surprise. Once she seemed to accept that it was, in fact, me standing in front her, she looked down at the ground. I kept staring at her. I wanted her focus on me, selfishly.
I took two steps forward and Ramsey looked up, expressionless, I took a few smaller steps towards her, until I was directly in front of her. I could hear her breathing, see her chest rising and falling. She was looking at my chin, not my eyes. I carefully raised my hands until they were almost touching the sides of her face and kept them there. I knew if I touched her, it would be too much.
“Did he hurt you?” I whispered, as I let my hands fall a fraction closer to her face. She looked up at me, latching onto my eyes, and she shifted, taking some of the weight off her feet.
“Yes…” She took a small breath and closed her eyes. Then, getting some of her confidence back, she continued, “But it was nothing compared to what you're doing to me.”
That knocked the air out of my chest. I took a step back, because her words physically hurt me. “Ramsey, I am not trying to hurt you,” I choked out. Tears started to fall from her eyes, and she looked away,
“That’s why you’ve ignored me all week? Why you disappeared Sunday night after drunk texting and calling me, and why you were upstairs with some blonde? Why you changed your locks! You aren’t trying to hurt me?” She was pointing at her chest and waving her hand between us. I ran my hand over my face.
“Ramsey there is so much going on, and I wish I could tell you…”
Ramsey took a step forward, then cut me off by yelling, “Then tell me, Jimmy!”
Ramsey's face was red and blotchy, and she had a huge red mark on her forehead. I wanted to touch it, feel her face, touch her so that I knew she was still here with me.
I took another step back and pleaded with her. “Look, I want to, and I would. I was hurt Sunday because I finally found out what is going on with Sip N Sides. It hurt that you lied to me, hurt that you kept it from me, it felt like—” My voice broke and I trailed off, realizing how much I didn’t want to have this conversation in the bathroom of a club, but Ramsey finished for me.
“Like when Lisa left?”
I stared at her and nodded my head. “I spiraled out of control with all these fears about my feelings for you, and the possibility of you hurting me like she did, and I made some poor decisions because of it.”
Ramsey's head drew back quickly, as though she'd been slapped, and hurt flashed over her face. She took a step closer to the wall, retreating from me. I stepped forward, reaching for her.
“No, I didn’t…nothing happened with anyone. That blonde up there is with the guys I'm with, not me.”
Ramsey rolled her eyes. “Yeah, she really looked like she was with the other guys when she grabbed your chest, like she owned you.”
I pulled at my hair. “Ramsey, I want you to believe me. I am doing something I can’t bring you into, but I am not trying to get with other women right now. You're the only one I want, and I can’t even have you!
“You wan
t friendship, Ramsey? Then let's be friends, be my friend through this. I need support, I need understanding, I need you to trust that I want you and that I am not shutting you out!” I yelled at her.
She flinched and leaned back. Tears were still streaming down her face, and she was quiet, we both were. I took in her looks for a second, her hair was glossy and straight, and absolutely gorgeous. I had never seen it this straight before, and my fingers itched to run through it to find her braid. She was looking at me, really looking at me now, and she took a few shuffled steps closer.
“You're right, Jimmy. I’m sorry, I haven’t been your friend, and that is all I asked from you for six weeks. I haven’t been fair, but part of being friends is opening up to each other, trusting each other with burdens, and that isn’t something you have done with me. I don’t know what you are into, but it doesn't take a genius to figure out that it’s probably related to something you were associated with in the past. I want to be your friend. When you are ready to be mine, let me know…” she finished firmly, like that was it. I was about to speak up and say something when a loud knock sounded at the door.
“Ramsey, are you in there? Open up, girl, are you okay?!”
It was Jessica, and her timing was horrible.
Ramsey walked past me, not even hugging me, looking at me, or anything. She unlocked the door and slipped out.
I waited a second, then left as well, ignoring the weird looks from the women lounging on couches. I headed back towards the VIP area, everything in the club had gone back to normal. My anger had subsided now that I knew Ramsey was okay, but my gut was in a hard knot. I hated how we left things, that she didn’t think I was being a friend to her. I guess she was right, but it wasn’t that simple. I didn’t want to only be friends with her, and that is what held me back from sharing, even if her assumptions were accurate. She'd decide that she couldn't have anything with me that was real if she knew I went back to the vomit that used to be my life; I'd lose her for sure. I was on the steps towards the upper floor of the VIP area when I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I looked down and noticed a text from Jackson.
Meat is ready for pick up.
Finally, some good news. This would bring me one step closer to being finished with all this bullshit, so that I could start putting thing back together with Ramsey.
It was Tuesday afternoon, and I was bored. The events from the weekend had caught up to me on Sunday, and I ended up sleeping most of the day. I wanted to shut my mind off, and not process or think about what Jimmy had said in the club. Although, hearing him say that he wanted me, and seeing the look on his face, I knew he wasn’t lying.
I was just struggling with the part that he was lying about. The part that he wouldn’t share with me, the part he was purposely leaving me out of. That part sucked. I tried to take a step back and really be his friend. I tried texting him and got no response, I tried calling him and got no answer.
So, I let it go and just let him work through whatever the hell it was that he was doing. So now, it was Tuesday, and I was at work, and there was hardly anyone here. It was October, and the air was cold, but the city was beautiful. I had wrapped myself into a large necked sweater with skinny jeans and tall boots. My hair was up in a ponytail with small braids trailing down the length of it. I didn’t put much effort into getting dressed these days because I knew that I wouldn’t see Jimmy. I realized that I shouldn’t be putting forth effort for Jimmy or any other man, I should just be me and be happy. Always, easier said than done, though.
I was going over the facts that Jimmy had given me again, in my head for the billionth time. Telling myself that he did want me, and that there wasn’t anyone else until I completely believed him. It made me feel better, like I was on his side again. I was just about to pack things up and head to Sip N Sides, when I got a knock on the office door. I yelled for whoever it was to come in. I sat up a little straighter, feeling like I should be acting a little more official in the manager's office.
I was stunned when a beautiful woman with white-blonde hair poked her head in a second later. She was thin and lean, and taller than me. She had a huge smile with gorgeous white teeth, her hair was long and curled down her back, and she wore a tight white t-shirt that left little to the imagination. She had black leather pants on that would probably need to be surgically removed in order to get them off, and the cutest ankle boots that I'd ever seen. I wanted to grow up to be this woman, she was that beautiful and well put together. She smiled at me, then looked around the office.
Realizing I should say something, I stood up. “Uh… can I help you with something?” I asked, while smoothing down my sweater and jeans.
The woman crossed her arms, turned her head to the door, and then looked back at me. “I’m looking for Jimmy.”
I looked down at the desk, trying to school my features, because of course this gorgeous woman was looking for him. “He’s not in the office today, can I leave a message for him?”
She smiled and grabbed the door handle as if she was about to leave. “Yeah, could you tell him that his wife stopped by? He’s been calling me nonstop for weeks. Now it’s just a matter of us getting in the same place at the same time, do you know what I mean?”
She laughed like this whole thing was hilarious and not tearing my heart into pieces. Then she flipped her hair over her shoulder, gave me one last smile, and headed out the door as she said over her shoulder, “Thanks.”
I sat down, because my damn legs wouldn't hold me anymore. What the hell had just happened? His wife?
I was going to kill him.
He was dead.
My mind was traveling at a billion miles a minute. Of course he was still married to that woman, she was a freaking model. Why wouldn’t he stay married to her? Insecurity and anger gripped my heart. I wanted to puke, run away, and curl up into a ball at the same time.
I couldn’t believe that he would lie to me like that. I gathered my laptop and my purse, and started for the door. Tears were threatening to fall, but I wouldn’t let them. I walked out the front door and climbed into my car and started to drive. I had no music, nothing, just the silence and the sound of my heart shattering into a million pieces. I may be able to make excuses in my head for what Jimmy was doing, and there’s a lot I would put up with from men but being married wasn’t one of them. I would not, and could not, pretend to be Mrs. Jimmy Stenson when there was already one out there somewhere. How could he stay married to her when she left them? My mind was reeling so badly, I didn't even notice that I had bypassed Sip N Sides, where I was supposed to finish out my day. Instead, I drove straight to the duck park, where a little pond sat, with several ducks waddling around it. I parked my car in front of the water and watched the ducks move around. I watched and stared, not crying, not anything, until it was too dark to see the water. Finally, I turned the car back on and drove home.
I walked into the house and found my mom working on some soup in the kitchen. She was in high spirits, and I felt like a jerk for being in such a crappy mood.
“My sweet daughter, you’re home! Good, I am making some soup, and it’s nearly ready,” she said in her beautiful Cambodian accent, that was still strong after almost thirty years of living here.
I smiled at her as she grabbed my face in between her small hands and kissed my cheek. “Okay, Mom, let me go shower really quick, and I will be right out.”
She released me, and I padded off to my room. I stripped out of my clothes and stepped into the steaming hot shower. I wanted to spend a fun evening with my mom. I didn't want to cry or mope, so I didn't let a single tear fall in the shower, I would wait. I dressed into warm sweats, a sports bra, and a hoodie. When I walked out, I fully planned to put the day behind me. As final as it felt to be done with Jimmy and as much as it hurt, I wouldn't allow it to impact my time with my mom.
My smile was almost complete as I headed back into the kitchen. I heard the soup bubbling and the house smelled good, so I thought I would start ther
e. “Mom, the soup smells delici—”
I stopped mid-sentence because my mother was lying on the floor of the kitchen. She was on her side and her arms were splayed out in front of her. Everything moved in slow motion; it was like one of those bad dreams where you know that you need to run fast to escape danger, but your legs wouldn't move. I tried to run to her side but felt like my feet were in cement. I started feeling for a pulse, while I grabbed my cell from the counter and dialed 911.
I heard the operator ask, “911, what’s your emergency?”
I couldn’t breathe, couldn't get the words out fast enough. “My mother fell, she's sick, I need help.” My words were choppy and rushed. I didn’t know what to say, I just wanted my mom to be okay.
“Okay, ma’am, a unit is on their way. I need you to tell me your address.”
“2244 Northeast Cherry Loop, Belvidere,” I choked out through tears, but these tears were only for my mother, no one else, and she deserved every last one. “Okay, ma’am, can you tell me if your mom is breathing, can you feel a pulse?”
“I don’t…” I cried and tried again. “I don't know if she is breathing, but she has a pulse. How do I know if she’s breathing?!” I practically yelled at the woman, because I hadn’t even thought of that, and my brain wasn’t working at the moment.
“It’s okay, ma’am, just watch her chest and see if it's moving.”
I watched her chest, and laid my head on it, feeling her warmth against my cold, tear-stained face. “Yes, she’s breathing,” I whispered into the phone.
“Okay, that’s good. Now, is she bleeding anywhere? Does she have any contusions, or bruising?”
I was getting frustrated. I just wanted to be alone with my mom before the paramedics got to our house, but this lady kept asking questions.
“No, I don’t see any bleeding, no bruising either.”
“Okay, that’s really good.”
“Excuse me, can I get off the phone now? Please? I just want to be with my mom and hold her with both hands until they get here,” I sobbed.
