by Dawn Atkins
“That something was wrong, you mean, and you would have jumped into my life when I didn’t want you to.”
“But we knew something was wrong,” Mike said. “You sounded funny on the phone. We assumed you were homesick. We should have demanded you tell us the truth. We should have come sooner and got you.”
“The real problem,” Mark inserted, “was that we made her so miserable at home, she felt better off living with some strange guy—”
“Hey,” Jackson grumbled.
“—taking a trashy job.”
“Hey,” Jackson repeated.
“The point is that she was desperate to escape us,” Mark insisted. “What kind of brothers were we being…really?”
“You were fine,” Jackson jumped in. “You did everything you could. I was the one who let things get out of hand.”
“You sure did,” Mike snapped bitterly.
“But he’s not family, Mike,” Mark said. “It’s our job to look out for Heidi.”
“Would you all just stop it!” she shouted, startling herself with her vehemence. “Stop talking about me like I’m not here. This is my life. I screwed it up. I’m the one. Stop blaming yourselves. Or taking credit, or whatever it is you’re doing.”
They looked at her, as if surprised she was still there, then frowned.
“You’re upset,” Mike said. “We’ll take you home now.”
“I’m not going to Copper Corners, guys. Not now.”
“I’ll take you home,” Jackson said, his eyes burning with emotion.
“But I can’t go with you, either, Jackson.”
The three men frowned and objected at once.
“Hello there!”
The voice made them turn to look up at Esmeralda, who waved elaborate nails their way. Bangle earrings jingled merrily and she snapped her gum. “Ready to go, hon?”
“This is Esmeralda Sunshine,” she said to the three men. “The nail technician at Shear Ecstasy. She’s renting me her guest room until I’ve saved enough to lease a place of my own.”
“You can stay at the town house as long as you need,” Jackson said.
“I know that, but I have to figure out what I want on my own.” Just looking at his face made her want to cry. She would miss him so much. Being near him just confused her.
“There’s no shame in reconsidering your decision,” Mike said. “Don’t let pride keep you from being happy at home. We won’t interfere any more. We understand you want privacy.”
“I know you guys would carve out a life for me with your fingernails and a toothpick if you had to, but it’s not your job. I have to find my own way. Get back to your conference, guys. I know you have to straighten out the mess at Moons, Jackson.” We’ll talk later, she told him with her eyes.
“But, Heidi—”
“Heidi, you—”
“We can’t—”
“I mean it,” she said, waving away all three men’s objections. “I’ll call you all once I’ve gotten some sleep.”
The three men glared at each other and she knew they’d start blaming each other the minute she walked out the door. She hadn’t gotten through to them. Maybe she never would.
All she knew was that she’d strayed from her plan, leaning on Jackson, convincing herself she was in love with him. That had made her all too ready to set aside her dreams.
She had Esmeralda drive her straight to the town house for her things, so she could settle into her new life right away.
She was shocked to unlock the door and find Jackson there. She’d assumed he’d be at Moons. He stood in the doorway, his face full of shifting emotions—pleasure at the sight of her, followed by guilt and pain.
She was certain she looked similarly torn. How could a heart sink and rise and ache and sing all at the same time?
15
“WOULD YOU MIND waiting in the car?” she asked Esmeralda, who stood on the porch with her, looking from her to Jackson. “I’ll get my things and be right out.”
“Take your time.” She snapped her gum. “Howard Stern will have something wild going. Lesbian nuns, housewife hookers, talking dogs.” She shrugged, turned and toddled down the walk.
Heidi entered the town house, shut the door and leaned against it. “I’m sorry my brothers blamed you, Jackson.”
“They had every right to.”
“No. It was all me. I got swept up in everything…the bar…you…and I lost track of what I wanted.”
He looked at her, his eyes red and sad. “I’m glad you didn’t tell them about us. They would have ended up in jail for trying to beat the crap out of me.” He tried a wry smile, but it came out sad. “You’re right, though, about ending it.” Jackson’s eyes were a flat brown now. Gone was the golden warmth of love or desire. “You want more from the world than I do. I would hold you back.” His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down in a slow swallow that sounded dry.
“You’ve been so supportive.” Too supportive. She’d fallen in love with the comfort of his big, safe arms. “What we had…what we shared…meant a lot.” If she said she loved him, she knew she’d cry.
“Yeah.”
“I hope you’ll keep working with MoonDanz,” she said. “That’s a great move for you. There may be glitches and personality conflicts, but have faith in yourself.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said.
They were different people and they wanted different things. When the time was right for her to settle down, she’d find someone more like her, right?
Right?
She would miss him like the sun.
“What are you going to do?” he asked her.
“Get an office job with regular hours, work at the salon weekends and evenings, save my money.”
“If you want restaurant work, I know Duke can help.”
“I can still do your housecleaning, if you’d like.”
“Better not.” He cleared his throat, and a muscle moved in his jaw. “You’ll be busy.”
She nodded. Better a clean break, she knew, though the idea of it made her ache. She didn’t want to cut herself off from Jackson. Or from Moons, either.
She’d visit later. When it didn’t hurt so much.
“I’d better get my stuff together,” she said.
He offered to help, but she did it herself, filling just a few boxes with everything she owned. Jackson insisted she take some of the groceries she’d bought. He helped her carry everything out to Esmeralda’s tiny Neon and then she walked back with him to get her purse and say goodbye.
She looked around the living room, took in the breast cocktail table, the nudie lamp, Tiki Town with its gently swaying hula girl, the bikini babe poster, the shiny engines. “It’s funny, but I’ll miss the look of the place,” she said.
“That’s hard to believe.”
“I got used to all the breasts.” It felt like home.
“Do you want a souvenir? How about that lamp?” He pointed at the hula girl.
“You love that lamp.”
“But it’ll remind you…”
Of that first kiss? When she’d slipped off the bamboo stool. Oh, Jackson. She wanted to take the whole living room, the whole town house, and stuff it into her pocket, carry it with her always.
“The bar would look empty without her,” she said instead. “I have your Hawaiian shirt. That’s my souvenir.”
“It looks good on you. Better than it ever did on me.” Heat flew across his face for a moment, then he quashed it. “Anyway…Hey, wait. I know what you need.” He grinned and headed out of the room, returning with something in a fist. He uncurled his fingers to reveal the Hawaiian girl night-light.
She remembered the soft glow in the hall, the way it made Jackson’s eyes gleam when he looked at her. “I love it,” she said taking it from his hand.
Then he pulled her in his arms and buried his nose in her hair. “I wish things were different,” he said. He looked into her face.
“Me, too,” she said, stepping away from the war
mth and security she longed for, but didn’t dare accept. “Thanks for this.” She held up the plastic woman with the Mona Lisa smile and the hibiscus in her hair. And the bare breasts, of course. “You were just what I needed.” She backed toward the door, pausing at the threshold, not quite ready to leave.
“Wait!” he said, not wanting her to go yet either, it seemed. “Your tree! You want your tree, don’t you?”
She followed him into the kitchen for the ficus, which looked dreadful. The few leaves that remained were yellow, brown or spotted. “It’s dying,” she said softly. “I don’t know why. I watered it every day.”
“I watered it, too.”
“You did?” She reached down to feel the dirt, which was soaked. “We drowned the poor thing.”
“Just trying to help.”
“I know.” They’d both tried to help each other and over-did it altogether. “Throw it away. Plant something else in the pot.”
“I’ll let it dry. If it bounces back, I’ll call you.”
“That’d be great,” she said, not knowing whether she should hope for that or not. There wasn’t much more to say. She glanced at the beer maid clock, at the neat kitchen, glass-front cupboards orderly and even, naked ladies turned to the back. The space where the bread maker belonged looked sad. “I’ll make you some bread and drop it by,” she said.
“Better not,” he said, shaking his head.
And then she was just too sad, so she tightened her fingers around the Hawaiian lady, the breasts poking insistently into her palm, and left.
At the passenger door of the Neon, she turned and looked up at the porch, where Jackson stood looking out at her. The first time he’d done that, he’d felt sorry for her, offered her a beer because apartment hunting was thirsty work. Now she felt sorry for them both. She felt like she was leaving her best friend.
TWO WEEKS LATER, Jackson was deejaying at Moons as usual. In some ways, it was as if nothing at all had happened. In others, nothing would ever be the same.
Stan had confessed that his dealer had coerced him into allowing Dupree to deal drugs out of Moons. Duke was completely innocent. Because the new revue was mentioned so prominently, the publicity turned out to be positive and Moons’s crowds grew even larger.
Duke had begged Jackson to stay on as manager, swearing he would never again hire a soul without Jackson’s approval. Jackson did not need convincing. He wanted the familiarity of Moons while he licked his wounds. Moons felt more like home these days than the town house.
Without Heidi, the place was damned empty. After only a couple days, it smelled like beer and pizza again. It got so bad that on his day off, he’d attempted a peach pie just for the aroma. He’d bought a premade crust and steamed up the kitchen stewing the peaches in butter, cinnamon and sugar. The pie was nothing like Heidi’s and, worst of all, it wasn’t until the smell had leaked into every corner of the place that he realized it only made him miss her more.
The only thing that really helped was MoonDanz. He’d thrown himself into working with the band and that kept his mind occupied. He’d convinced Duke to invest in a demo CD in exchange for a cut of any deal they made. Jackson was circulating it with club owners in town and L.A. now.
That was exciting, but he still felt beat up—bruised as those peaches Heidi’d made into that first pie. He put on the song Heidi had stripped to on pain meds and sighed.
He looked out over the bar and caught Autumn frowning up at him. She shook her head and marched toward the stairs to his booth. What did she want now?
A few seconds later, she entered. “God, enough with that tune. You’ve played it three times tonight. Give us something fresh.” She studied him. “What’s with you? You’ve been mopin’ around since the drug bust.”
“I have things on my mind.”
“Things?” She paused. “It’s Heidi, huh?”
“I miss her,” he said, surprised that he’d admitted it so quickly. He felt raw.
“You’re in love with her…. Wow. I’m sorry, Jax. I never thought—I didn’t think you—I told her you were a loner.”
“I am a loner.” He tried to laugh. “Except now I just feel alone.” That raw, grated feeling spread throughout his whole body.
“Oh, Jax. You big lug. It happened. The true love thing. Did you tell her?”
“Of course not. What’s the point? She moved on. She’s getting a degree, becoming a shrink. What use would she have for a guy like me?”
“Heidi’s not the kind of person who gets hung up on diplomas, Jax. If she needs you, she needs you.”
“That’s the point. She doesn’t need me. I don’t have a thing to offer her.”
“She tell you that?”
“She said she wants to handle her own life.”
“You did the big brother thing, didn’t you?” She put her hands on her hips. “You know it makes us nuts when you do that. You operate from a male-dominant social paradigm. Paternalism infantilizes women.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I’ve been doing a little reading, my friend. Women’s studies, along with accounting. Soon, I’ll be vanquishing men’s minds, along with their dicks.”
He groaned, but he was proud of her for looking into school. He didn’t dare say it or she’d slug him senseless.
“Heidi got me started, but she waited until I showed interest. She didn’t say, ‘You’re wasting your brain, so take this class,’ like you would have done.”
He remembered how Heidi rolled her eyes when he dished out advice.
“Heidi needs your love and your support, not your advice. Now you, on the other hand, you could use a little bossing around. Already, she got you off your lazy ass and into the band scene. You need her to keep you going, my friend.”
Maybe she was right. She at least had a point.
“Go get her. You need each other.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Get her out here, too. Nevada’s freaking out about the new routines—it’s fear of success, I just know it. She’s not due for a weave for a while. We can’t wait that long for Heidi’s help.”
Jackson was still mulling over Autumn’s words when he got home that night. The place smelled bad and felt empty. Heidi hadn’t added one thing to the town house, except that shriveled-up tree, but she’d filled every corner so that he felt as if the place would be forever hollow without her.
His stomach burned, his heart ached. He wanted so badly to push through, figure this out in a way that would let him be with Heidi.
He had to be able to take care of her, keep the wolves away, didn’t he? That’s what men did for the women they loved. He felt the truth of that rule to his bones. Paternalistic, infantilizing or not.
He went into her room to grab some music to mope by, but he paused at the framed photo of his dad with his band. Look out for the ones you love. His dad had pushed back his music dream, relegated it to weekend gigs, passed it all by because of Jackson and his mother.
Personally, if his dad had asked, Jackson would have told him he’d rather live in tiny apartments all over the country than see his dad give up his music. It ate at him, he knew.
What had his mom thought?
I’m sure your dad courted her with music. Heidi had pointed that out. Maybe if his dad had asked his mom about it, she might have told him to go for it, too. Love and dreams could go hand in hand. Heidi had supported him with the band. Hell, she’d goaded him into it. Maybe he’d needed the push. Call it support. Maybe she wanted to look out for the person she loved, too.
She had bigger goals than he did, though. But so what? He could support her in whatever she wanted. And maybe she would do the same for him.
Pretty heavy, he realized, and his head began to hurt. But somewhere in him, deep, he felt his mom’s smile. The one he’d loved the most. The one that said, I love you more than life, Son, and I’m so proud of you.
Maybe Heidi was right and his parents could see him after all. He knew one thing for sure. They would love
Heidi.
A MONTH AFTER breaking up with Jackson, Heidi poured milk onto her corn flakes at Esmeralda’s kitchen table and told herself to make it a good day.
“Goddess of light, the air in here sucks,” Esmeralda said, waltzing in, sweeping her hands through the air as if to whisk away smoke. “Your aura is as gray as an English sky.”
Esmeralda had turned out to be the perfect roommate—she’d given Heidi a spacious and tastefully decorated room and her own bathroom, she was neat, went to bed at ten, had healthy eating habits, and was fun to talk to, though she gave Heidi plenty of quiet time to think. Everything was perfect.
And Heidi was miserable. She missed Jackson. She missed Moons. Even Shear Ecstasy didn’t cheer her up. She’d recommitted to her plan, had sketched out a résumé and was booked for interviews at a temp agency, but she felt lost.
Esmeralda waltzed to the cupboard and brought back a pill container. “B vitamins, sweetie,” she said, plunking them down on the table. She sat across from Heidi, and slapped Heidi’s fingers out of her mouth. She’d been chewing her cuticles again. “They’ll strengthen your nails, too.” She grabbed Heidi’s wrist. “Let Esmeralda look.”
She thought it was her nails Esmeralda wanted to examine, but instead she flipped over her hand. “It’s time. I’m reading your palm.”
“But my life’s still not set,” she said, making a fist and pulling away.
Esmeralda locked on like handcuffs. “What have you got to lose? Your heart is broken, you’re miserable. Besides, I only report things you can celebrate or fix.”
“Okay, I guess,” she said, and slowly uncurled her fingers.
Esmeralda pulled her hand onto her own palm and pressed the fingers out straight, then traced the surface creases with the kaleidoscope-painted nail of her index finger. “Long lifeline,” she said, tilting her head, shifting Heidi’s hand to catch the light streaming in from the window.
“That’s good,” Heidi said tentatively.
“Only if you don’t waste it. Hmm. Deep understanding of people.” She jabbed at a forked line, bending Heidi’s fingers back hard.
“Ouch.”
“Just seeing how deep. Hmm. Quite.”
