by Ronica Black
“That’s a dangerous game,” he said. “Say you piss off the wrong woman, or sleep with one who has a jealous lover. Or worse. You get a stalker. I know how you feel about those.”
“I can take care of myself.”
He finished with the cheese and scraped the small squares onto a plate where he proceeded to apply toothpicks to each one. He hummed to Michael Buble, and Elaine tried to breathe deep and relax. The smell of dinner filled the kitchen and living room. Elaine hadn’t had a good home cooked meal in ages. She lived off of apples and almond butter or microwave Lean Cuisines. She enjoyed cooking but not for herself. There just wasn’t any joy in cooking alone. She closed her eyes, recalling family dinners with Barb and Michael and Donovan. They’d drink two bottles of wine, talk, laugh, dance. She could almost feel her. Open her eyes and see her all snuggled in on the couch, feet tucked up beneath her. She’d be holding her glass of wine, teasing Michael about his choice in music. Barb was a classic rock woman, and she’d never been afraid to share that fact and even get up and put some on.
“You still feeling tired?” Michael asked, bringing her back to the present.
“I have a headache. I think maybe I should go.”
He set down his wine as a serious look came over his face. “Absolutely not. I’m not letting you run away.”
“I’m not running away, Michael. I’m going home.”
He walked up to her, squatted, and held her hand. “It’s just a dinner.”
“Right, like a dinner we used to have with Barb.”
“Oh, God, no honey. This isn’t like that. No one is trying to replace Barb. No one can replace Barb.”
“Then what is this? I mean you’re bringing a woman here?”
He flushed. “God, I can be so stupid sometimes. Honestly, I didn’t try to be so insensitive. I just—”
“You just what?” She could feel tears biting her throat.
“I can tell the artist is getting to you. And that you aren’t going to end it.”
“Maybe I don’t want to end it,” she whispered.
“You’re just going to torture yourself?”
“I can take care of myself.”
He stood. “You didn’t answer me about your fatigue. You don’t look well.”
“Thanks.”
“Elaine, talk to me.”
He settled in on the couch across from her. “How’s your health?”
She didn’t want to do this. She just wanted to go home. “I’m not sure.”
“What does that mean?”
“They are running tests.”
His face went pale. “Your heart?”
She sipped her wine.
He read all the words she didn’t need to say. She could see his mind working, racing, panicking.
“When?”
“This week.”
“Do you want me to go with you?”
“No.”
The interior garage door opened, and Michael’s husband, Donovan, entered. He smiled, showing off his prominent dimples.
“Hey, look who’s here.” He knelt and kissed her cheek, then did the same to Michael. He pointed at the wine. “Ya’ll read my mind. Honey, will you pour me a glass while I go change?”
“Sure.” Michael rose to cross to the kitchen, and Donovan disappeared into the back bedroom of the house.
“So what are the doctors saying?” Michael asked, pouring the wine.
Elaine rubbed her head again. “It doesn’t matter.”
He balked. “Doesn’t matter?”
“I don’t want to talk about this right now, Michael.”
He grew silent. “I want to know what’s going on, Elaine. I’m worried.”
“And when I find out, I’ll tell you.”
Donovan returned to the living room, wearing a Tommy Bahama button-down and khaki shorts. He rubbed his hands together in anticipation before he grabbed his wine.
He turned toward Elaine as he sipped. “Did Michael tell you about my friend?”
Elaine fought rolling her eyes. How could they do this to her? And right now?
“Um, Elaine’s not too happy about that,” Michael said.
Donovan appeared regretful. “Oh. Well, that’s my bad, Elaine. I sort of invited her before I told Michael.”
“I think I’m just going to go home. I’m not feeling well.”
Donovan spoke. “I don’t know if it makes a difference, but she just called and said she couldn’t make it.”
Elaine felt the tension leave her body. “Thank God.”
Michael laughed. “I think it makes a big difference.”
Elaine stood and placed her empty glass on the counter. “I was really pissed at you guys.”
Michael nodded. “It was stupid. We should’ve told you.”
“Yes, you should’ve.”
“So you could’ve stayed away.”
She laughed. “God, yes.”
Michael exchanged a look with Donovan. “Elaine, we just worry about you. It’s been five years now.”
“I know how long it’s been. I know every single moment of every single day.”
She choked on her words. Donovan embraced her. She tried to push him away, but he held her tight. She fought him again, but he wouldn’t let go. He began whispering to her.
“It’s okay, Elaine.”
She felt Michael hug her from behind. Comforting her with soft words. The tears biting her throat broke through, and she began to sob. She fell into them, and they held her upright in a loving embrace, letting her completely break down. Soon, they led her to the couch where Michael sat and she leaned into his chest, gripping his shirt. He held her close, tears of his own streaming down his cheeks.
Donovan, too, placed her curled legs on his lap and spoke softly. They didn’t ask her questions or expect her to speak. They just held her and allowed her to cry. She thought about everything as she did. How badly the pain still hurt, how Barb had looked the last day, so happy, so full of life. And then in an instant, they were hit and Barb just looked over with glazed eyes and said, “I love you.” And finally, Elaine remembered the promise she’d made her as she took her last breath.
“I will never love another.”
Chapter Twenty-five
Johnnie was sitting at a crowded table on the patio at Amsterdam’s, a popular gay club in downtown Phoenix. The night was mild and a bit breezy. She tried to relax every time it blew against her skin, but the music was as loud as her company, making her uneasy. Eddie was laughing hysterically at something his new beau had said, and the rest of the crew, men and women she’d known for a couple of years, were also laughing and drinking. They’d all been glad to see her, welcoming her with long hugs and firm embraces. It had meant a lot, but she was still uncomfortable with all the energy in the place. The second she’d walked in the door, she could feel person after person. Feel not only their stares, but their emotions, energy. It often bombarded her, nearly slamming her backward. She had to steel herself in order to remain, put up a wall of sorts. Unfortunately, this often came off as her being rude or snobbish. But her friends knew better, and they were all that mattered.
She sipped her beer and eyed her watch. She wondered how long she had to stay before she could take off without Eddie throwing a fit. It was just after ten so she knew she had at least two more hours to go. She looked forward to the walk to the tram in the quiet night. Maybe she would ride beyond her stop and back again, enjoying the soothing ride, the rushing streetlights out the windows.
“Oh. My. God,” Eddie said, getting her attention.
“Oh, hell no,” her friend Monica said.
Johnnie looked at them and then followed their gaze to the entrance to the patio. Her heart sank to her stomach. She actually felt herself sink down a little in her chair.
“She better not come over here.”
Johnnie looked down and played with her beer, praying her ex, Gail, wouldn’t see her.
“She will. She has no shame,” Eddie said.
Johnnie wanted to escape. She wanted to run, hop the fence and run. But she sat frozen, trapped by the safety net of her friends. She sat and waited for the confrontation and tried to think of what she would say. Should she say hello, ask how she was doing? Or should she do the ignore and look away? Her heart raced in anticipation, and her ears felt full of cotton. She could feel a powerful stare on her, and she knew Gail had spotted her. Eddie said something, but it sounded muffled. Monica gripped her arm and smiled reassuringly. She leaned into her.
“She’s gone,” she said. “We got you. You can relax.”
Johnnie exhaled and looked back to the entrance of the patio. A cluster of laughing men stood where Gail had been.
“Did she—see me?” Johnnie asked. She’d been the one to finally end it with Gail after numerous reconciliations. Since then Gail had tried a few times to win her back. But Johnnie, with the help of her friends, had held firm, which had resulted in Gail getting very angry. She’d gone on the attack and bad-mouthed her to all their friends and acquaintances. Johnnie could still remember the attacks and phone calls from people who’d fallen for her manipulation. People who she’d thought were her friends.
“Don’t worry about it,” Monica said. “I won’t let her near you.”
Johnnie drank her beer and tried to smile when Monica leaned in and kissed her cheek. Monica had always been a good friend, and Johnnie got good vibes from her. She was mid-twenties, attractive, educated. She was bold and fearless in ways Johnnie could only ever wish to be. Monica was a cop so Johnnie guessed it came with the job.
“You seeing anyone yet?” she asked. Her dark eyebrows rose with interest. Her equally dark hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail, taming her thick mane. She’d obviously come straight from her shift. Her hair and black watch gave her away. Normally, when they went out Monica wore her hair down and her more expensive watch. Johnnie wondered what she’d dealt with that day. Sometimes, Johnnie knew, Monica dealt with very serious stressful situations. And no matter how hard she tried to shake it and leave it behind, it clung to her like a bad smell.
“No, you know me.”
Monica sipped her Seven and Seven. Her toned arm flexed as she handled her glass. “When are you going to give in and give me a chance?”
Johnnie flushed as she stared into her reflective black eyes. Monica was attractive and she had a wonderful sense of humor and purpose. But she was too much for Johnnie. Too intense. Too aggressive. She often said things Johnnie found insensitive or rude. Not to mention the feelings and trauma she brought home with her. Johnnie would have to shield herself from her words and feelings twenty-four seven. The thought alone stressed her out. How could she explain any of that to her?
“It’s just not a good idea,” Johnnie said. “You’d grow bored.”
“I doubt that.”
“You would. I paint all day long and then stay home and watch old movies.”
Monica studied her closely. “I think I could get you out every now and then.”
“I wouldn’t want you to even try. You shouldn’t have to try. You deserve someone who’s more like you.”
“A cop?” Monica laughed. “No, thanks. I would like someone who doesn’t have to deal with the shit I do. Someone calm, caring, understanding. Someone like you.”
Johnnie warmed a little. “Thanks, I think.”
Monica tipped her glass to her. “Can we give it a try? One date?”
Johnnie fought shifting in her seat. Monica touched her arm lightly. She seemed to sense her discomfort.
“You know what? Don’t even worry about it. I don’t want to pressure you. I would never want to make you uncomfortable, and I don’t want you to say yes unless you mean it. A pity date I do not need.”
Johnnie met her gaze. She was being sincere. “You’re pretty caring aren’t you?” Johnnie asked.
“You seem surprised.” She looked away. “It’s the job, I know. Sometimes the attitude is hard to shake when you’re off duty.”
“I can imagine.”
“Some things just get to you no matter how hard you try to block them out or forget.”
“I can sense it sometimes,” Johnnie said softly.
Monica stared down at her glass. “I thought you might.”
“You’re very strong,” Johnnie said, meaning it.
Monica scoffed. “It’s all in the attitude. Most of the time I’m scared shitless.”
“That’s a good thing. If you weren’t scared or worried in those situations, it would probably be even more dangerous.”
Monica smiled. “Probably.”
“Do you sleep okay?”
Her face clouded. She took several deep sips of her drink.
Johnnie knew she’d hit a nerve. “You don’t have to say.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m just not used to someone being so intuitive. I’m not used to someone seeing me deeply.”
“I know the feeling,” Johnnie said, sipping her own drink.
Monica laughed. “Then you know how weird it feels.”
Johnnie nodded. “Yes.”
“Would you always be like this…if we dated I mean?”
Johnnie shrugged. “Probably. It’s just who I am.”
Monica seemed to think for a moment. “It would be interesting,” she said. “Dating you.”
Johnnie laughed. “Somehow I know I shouldn’t take that as a compliment.”
Monica spilled some of her drink in laughter as she tried to sip. “It was, crazy. Totally a compliment.”
Johnnie sat back and breathed deeply. The breeze caused her hair to tickle her forehead. The sky was only dark enough to show a handful of stars. People were sitting and chatting, enjoying the evening. Two men were kissing passionately. Eddie was tickling his guy, causing hysterics at their table. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was having a good time. It was nice to be out.
Chapter Twenty-six
“What a night, huh?” Monica said, following Johnnie’s gaze up into the stars.
“You said it.”
“You want to get out of here?”
Johnnie thought of Gail who was no doubt somewhere inside.
“What did you have in mind?”
“I don’t know. Maybe grab a couple of Thirst Busters and drive up to the point. Stare up at a few more of those stars.”
“You mean the scarce few we can see in this city?”
“Those are the ones.”
“The city lights are prettier,” Johnnie said.
“Well, you’ll have your choice. The sky or the city.”
“You just want to make out with me on the hood of your Charger.”
Monica laughed. “Maybe.”
Johnnie felt good, warm, a little buzzed from her third beer and the shots she and Eddie had done. And she would do anything to get away from Gail.
“Let’s go,” she said, standing.
Monica stood and they rounded the table. Eddie looked up, curious. “What’s up, ladies?”
“We’re gonna head out,” Monica said.
“Home already?” Eddie asked, looking at Johnnie.
“Relax, Eddie. We’re just going somewhere else,” Monica said.
He didn’t need to consider why. “Oh. Right. Good idea.”
Johnnie leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Night.”
He gripped her hand. “Don’t let her ruin your night,” he said.
“I’m not.” She gave him a squeeze of reassurance.
They exited the patio and thankfully hit the street without seeing Gail. Johnnie shivered a little as the night temperature dropped, and Monica seemed to sense it and entangled their arms, walking close together. The night was quiet as the boom of Amsterdam’s fell into a muted abyss behind them. People walked the night paired up or in groups. Most businesses were closed, and distant laughter and streetlights were their only company.
“Did you ride the tram?” Johnnie asked.
“No, I’m over here.”
They
crossed the street to a paid parking lot. Monica’s Charger sat like a hulk of muscle in the dark. Sleek black with a white racing stripe, it looked ready to rumble.
“I so love this car,” Johnnie said, waiting on the passenger side.
“It is a chick magnet,” Monica said, grinning. She pressed the remote and allowed them entry. When Monica started the car, Johnnie’s heart fluttered at the sound and the feel of the harnessed power.
“I would probably kill myself in this car,” she said.
Monica pulled out of the parking lot. “Don’t tell me you’re a speed demon.”
“I am.”
She laughed. “I would’ve never guessed it.”
“Don’t judge a book by its cover.”
“I guess I can’t,” she said. She floored it on the main road, and they raced through the sporadic light like they were running from the law. People on the sidewalks stopped and stared, as did people in the cars they passed.
“You’re not supposed to drive like this,” Johnnie said, loving it.
“I’m just trying to impress you.” She groaned as she slowed for a stop light. “Is it working?”
“It’s doing something,” Johnnie said.
“Good.” Monica sped through the green light and drove swiftly though safely to a Circle K convenience store. They headed inside, got Thirst Busters and sweets, and headed out. They drove in comfortable silence up to the point.
Johnnie unbuckled her seat belt as they pulled in and parked. The headlights dimmed, and the lights of the city sparkled beneath them. Monica sipped her big soda, chewed on some Skittles, and leaned back to relax.
“Now this is nice,” she said. She reached up and freed her hair, sliding her hair tie around her wrist.
Johnnie stared at her dark mane, thick and wavy as it fell to her shoulders. She had an urge to touch it, to run her fingers through it.
Monica reclined her seat and looked at her. “Join me,” she said. “It’s nice.”
Johnnie reached down, reclined her seat, and sipped her Diet Coke with a splash of Dr Pepper. Her eyes drifted to the sparkling city lights, and they hypnotized her as they danced in place.
“Music?” Monica asked.
