Sweet Forty-Two

by Andrea Randall

  As CJ’s entrance neared, I felt myself holding my breath. Ember tensed, too. My eyes, though, stayed on the way Georgia held on to stillness in the middle of the bustling crowd. My fiddle hung by my side during those measures, but I’d have given anything to be able to hide behind it as I watched Georgia take in CJ’s voice. He was good. His tone was as solid as I remembered, just a hint of rasp creeping in behind his cigarette addiction.

  Ember sang with her eyes closed a lot, so I couldn’t even get her visual reaction to the emotions Georgia shot through her eyes. I almost missed my entrance with CJ. Just as I pulled the bow across the strings, someone from behind the bar shouted to Georiga, causing her to jump. She turned quickly, but I didn’t miss the sight of her tattooed finger sliding underneath her heavily made-up eye as she bobbed and weaved through the crowd.

  What the hell?

  I followed her trail to where a guy had called out her name. I’d assumed he was someone working there, with the authority he’d put into his voice, but he was sitting on the patron side of the bar. I recognized him from the night before. He seemed to be a regular here, but she certainly wasn’t happy about his presence. She stood with the empty tray hugged to her body, her head tilted to the side. Before I could judge their relationship further, CJ picked up the tempo of the song. I followed, but not without turning around to see if he was aware of what he was doing.

  He was. Looking around me toward the bar, CJ’s forehead scrunched and his nostrils flared. Something was definitely weird. A few seconds sooner than it should have been, the song was over and CJ was on his feet.

  Ember stepped in front of him. “CJ, that was great. I’m sorry about—”

  “Yeah, yeah,” he cut her off, “it’s fine, just ... do the next song without me, okay? “Foolish Games” again or some other folksy bullshit that doesn’t need me, K?”

  “Uh, y-yeah, sure...” Ember trailed off in an almost-daze, looking back at Bo. “Does that keyboard work?”

  As they worked on the mechanics of the next song, I grabbed CJ’s arm. Now, even though he’s my height, and I’m older, CJ still had about twice the distance between his shoulders as I did. He wasn’t heavy, per se, but I wouldn’t stand in his way if he were running down the sidewalk. I had our childhood on my side, though, when I stopped him. I’d been like an older brother to him, and more times than not, he would at least listen to me for a few seconds before doing whatever the hell it was he wanted to anyway. Given the fury framing his eyes, I had to give it a shot.

  “What the hell, man...” I made sure he was looking directly in my eyes as I spoke. If he wasn’t, he likely wasn’t hearing me.

  “Nothing, I just ... gotta sit this one out, okay?” His glare rose back over my shoulder. I looked to find him eyeing the guy who was still talking to Georgia, even as she served customers around him.

  His accent was thicker than usual, which meant one of two things. Either he was drunk, though I knew he wasn’t. Or, unfortunately, he was looking for a fight.

  “Want me to go over with you?” Bo and Ember were ready to play “Foolish Games” so I could play or sit out, as well.

  He shook his head, setting a firm, hot hand on my shoulder. “No, it’s cool.”

  “CJ...”

  “Regan, I’m not seventeen, okay? You don’t need to hold my hand. I just need to ... just let it go.” He gave my shoulder a squeeze that I’m sure he meant as reassuring, but it wasn’t.

  I watched him edge his way to the bar, but he went nowhere near Georgia, or her end of the bar. He sat on the far side, but never took his eyes off the guy I’d only seen once before, and was fairly certain CJ didn’t know.

  “Hey,” Bo stepped between me and Ember, who I didn’t realize had taken her seat next to me, “what’s his deal?”

  “God, who the fuck knows? He insists he’s fine.”

  “Well, whatever,” Ember sounded irritated still, “we’ve only played one song and we’ve officially been on stage for like eight minutes. This shit’s unacceptable. Let’s goooo.”

  I arched an eyebrow in her direction as I looked at Bo, who just shrugged with a slight grey expression pulling over his face.

  What the hell was up with everyone tonight?

  “Okay,” I sighed, “‘Foolish Games’?”

  “Yep.” Ember nodded, settling onto her stool. She usually stood while she sang, but she always, always sat for this song. It was like it was too much emotion, or something.

  “Let’s go.” I winked at Ember as I mocked her tone from earlier. She allowed a small smile, gave Bo a thumbs up, and he began the piano intro.

  There’s no official violin part written for that song, so I kind improvise as needed, usually in the chorus. Ember’s voice was mournful and I eyed her with concern. With her eyes squeezed shut, she may as well have been a closed book—she held everything in her eyes. Something was wrong with her. Big time.

  Not only was she uncharacteristically bitchy to Georgia— someone she barely knew—but she was fidgety and unfocused between songs. Concern rose as I tilted my head to view Bo. I caught him look up at Ember once before taking a visibly deep breath, and looking back at his hands, his eyes closed for long blinks every few seconds.

  Everything started turning in counter-clockwise motion around me. Out of nowhere, I was brought back to last summer when I’d rehearsed this song with Ember. Suddenly, Rae’s laughter looped through the spaces between my strings as my hand shook. She was beautiful. She was kind.

  She was fucking gone.

  For six goddamn months I’d been able to keep it at bay, the feeling that my chest was being unzipped, one bloody layer at a time. The feeling that once it was finally open, everything that mattered would spill out, and I’d be swallowed into it. I trusted my fingers and hands to finish the song as my chest and stomach volleyed between churning and free-falling. Beads of sweat sprung across the back of my neck as my head began a slow ascent over the rest of my body.

  Panic attack.

  I’d heard Bo talk about them with Ember sometimes at night when they were sitting outside and I was making tea before bed. Something about his hands going numb. Not being able to breathe...

  I needed to finish the song and get the hell outside before I lost my shit in the middle of a group of strangers.

  My eyes darted to CJ, but fell first on Georgia who was standing right next to the guy CJ had been eyeing as he swallowed a pint of Jack and Coke. This guy had a tight buzz cut. He was tall and lanky, roughly my build, but he had big hands. Really big.

  The only reason I noticed how big they were, I realized a second after we played our last note, was because one of them was pulled back in the air, seeming to hover for a second over Georgia.

  Before I could register what was happening, CJ blasted through the people between him and Georgia like he was a snowplow in a blizzard. I can’t be sure it was real, given I was in the throes of a massive panic situation, but it looked like people were cast aside like rag dolls.

  “Shit!” Bo growled as he brushed past Ember. “Stay here,” he commanded her.

  With world still working in slow motion around CJ, who looked like a wild animal, I was moving just as slowly, turning back around to see him reaching for the guy’s neck.

  Fuck.

  I clumsily handed my violin to Ember, who grabbed hold of it before it hit the floor. Bo made it to CJ before I did, breaking the force of CJ’s hands with his forearm. Just enough time for me to get there and pull CJ’s arms behind his back. All of a sudden my ears worked again. Two too-short bouncers busied themselves with the drunk guy I heard Georgia call Dex as he spit in her direction.

  CJ’s voice attacked my senses loud and fast.

  “What the fuck did you do to her, you bastard?” he yelled over and over as if repetition would give him the answer he needed.

  “Do to her? She’s a fucking cock-tease. And crazy.” Dex pulled against the bouncers, but CJ pulled tighter against us, and freed enough arm to punch Dex square
in the nose.

  CJ growled through frighteningly ragged breaths. “Don’t you ever talk about her that way, you dickless pig.”

  There wasn’t any blood right away, and the bouncers dragged Dex to a far corner of the bar.

  Bo and I regained control of CJ, and Georgia stood on her tiptoes in front of him. “CJ, calm the fuck down!” An edge of panic leaked from her authority.

  Bo and I repeated CJ’s name, trying to get him to come to his senses before everyone ended up in jail, but he couldn’t hear us. I could tell by the rigid set of his muscles from his wrist up to his neck. When he was that angry, nothing worked except his sense of touch. Sense of punch, really.

  “I’m not going to calm down, Georgia. Not after Brandon gave you that concussion.”

  He started to say more, but Georgia’s hand cut across his face so sharply, I could almost feel it. With a single slap from one small waitress, the overfull bar fell silent as Georgia’s facade melted into tears.

  “You fucking bastard,” she whispered, “you said you’d never tell.”

  CJ’s shoulders sank, strained muscles dissolving their strength underneath my hands. “Go,” I mouthed to Bo, eyeing the door. I’d watched the bouncers move Dex to the far corner of the bar, meaning the main door was clear for us to escape through.

  Looking over my shoulder as Bo pushed CJ through the door, my chest ached as I watched Georgia wave off a hand from Lissa, disappearing down the hall in a hurry. Just before the door closed, I saw Ember chase after her, nodding to Lissa to follow her.

  CJ shook free from us the second the door closed. He’d clearly let us lead him from the bar, almost like a security blanket. Truth is, he could have flicked us off of him like bugs if he’d tried hard enough.

  “CJ,” Bo started breathlessly, “what ... the fuck?”

  “Let it go.” CJ dug his hands into his pockets and started for the parking lot.

  Feeling was just returning to my brain as I teased out what was real from the nightmare that was my internal trip through a fun house on stage. I let Bo search for motive in CJ.

  “I won’t let it go, man. You were a dick to Ember earlier, then you—”

  “Oh shut the fuck up, Cavanaugh, your bitch of a girlfriend was nasty to G—”

  “Dude...” Bo’s voice dropped a dark octave as his hand wrapped into a fist at his side.

  That was my cue.

  “Shit. Guys.” I ran a hand over my head. “Neither of you need a broken hand. Fair?” CJ hadn’t turned around but shook his head and mumbled whatever. I continued, taking shallow breaths as I wiped my hands on my jeans. “What was that about, Ceej? Who’s Brandon?”

  CJ’s voice was impassioned with a dash of defeat. “Forget it. Just fucking forget about it, okay? He was some bastard boyfriend of hers in high school who got drunk and beat the shit out of her one night. That’s it.” With slumped shoulders, CJ reached my car, pulled my keys from his pocket, and got in, slamming the door and reclining the seat, his hands covering his face.

  Bo and I stared at the darkened car for a minute before either of us spoke.

  “Do you think anyone called the police?” I grimaced at the thought of CJ’s less than stellar record.

  Bo shrugged. “Doubt it. They’d have been here by now.”

  As the melody of Rae’s laughter once again bubbled through my senses, I had to speak to override it.

  “Ember followed Georgia down the hall as we were leaving.” It felt like tattling.

  “Jesus,” he grumbled, running a hand over his face, leaving it over his mouth for a beat.

  “What’s really going on with you two?”

  Bo closed his eyes and lowered his head, shaking it a few times. When he opened them, he turned for the door, holding it open for me without looking my way. “You all right, Regan? You seemed a little off at the end of that song.”

  “I’m fine. I just saw CJ, and, you know...” I lied. There was enough going on tonight without getting into a therapy session with Bo in a bar parking lot.

  I looked around for a second before stepping back into the bar, wondering how in the hell I even ended up here.

  Georgia

  Shit shit shit.

  I kicked the door to the back room open, thankful for the faulty latch. I needed to kick something. I took comfort in slamming the door behind me, but someone stopped it. I kind of wanted it to be CJ, so I could kick his ass.

  But, almost worse, it was Hippie Barbie and her merry band of judgmental facial expressions.

  “Get the hell out of here,” I snapped as I retreated to the far corner of the room.

  Ember looked over her shoulder, letting Lissa in before she closed and locked the door behind her with the chain. “Um, no, I won’t get the hell out of here. Are you okay?”

  Her voice was as sing-song-y as it was on stage, but I could barely hear it as I remembered the way she’d looked at me when I came out of the back room with CJ before their set.

  “Yeah,” Lissa interrupted, “holy fuck, Georgia, what the hell was all of that about?” Her words shook like the muscles in my legs.

  “It’s fine. It’s over. Seriously, leave me the hell alone. Lissa, you have tables. Take mine or send them home. I need a few minutes.” I turned toward the window and rested my forehead against the lukewarm glass.

  Ten seconds later, amidst unintelligible whispers, I heard the chain swing free, and the door open and close. I jumped when I heard it latch again.

  “It’s just me,” Ember whispered.

  “I told you to leave.” I crossed my arms in front of me as she leaned her back against the door.

  “I will ... as soon as I know Dex has left the bar and parking lot. I don’t think anyone called the cops, which is good news for CJ, but bad news for you.” She studied her cuticles as she spoke, looking like she was fighting something inside with the steep downward angle of her eyebrows.

  “Where is CJ? I’m going to kick his ass.” Wherever it was, I’d hoped it was far from Dex.

  Ember shrugged, finally looking me in the eyes. “Bo and Regan took him outside. I think there’s been enough ass-kicking for the night.”

  She took a deep breath, pried her back away from the door and walked toward me in the annoyingly casual way that was meant to make it look like she wasn’t really approaching me. Kind of like she was at a tag sale, her fingertips skimming the surface of the desk and the back of the couch as she got closer.

  “How often does that happen?” she asked when she was about five feet from me.

  “Excuse me?”

  “How often does he get in your face like that?”

  “It wasn’t—”

  “It wasn’t what?”

  “My personal life is none of your damn business. I don’t need you looking at me like some battered wife.”

  “Okay, then who’s Brandon?”

  Fuck CJ.

  “Also none of your business.” I wasn’t going to discuss my bastard of an ex-boyfriend with her. I hadn’t intended on discussing it with anyone, let alone all of E’s.

  I knew CJ knew the weight behind every word Dex had spoken. But his interpretation of the bruise on my wrist, mixed with Dex’s attitude, led him to spill the Brandon secret everywhere. It’s the lesser of two evil secrets, G. I had to chant that in my head on repeat.

  Ember cleared her throat. “I’ve known CJ a long time—”

  “Not as long as I have.”

  Ember rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’ve known him long enough to know that he basically doesn’t give a shit about anyone. Except you.”

  I cleared my throat to keep the vice at bay. “Yeah, so?”

  My eyes burned like hell, but I wasn’t about to give in to tears. CJ betrayed my trust.

  Before she could respond, a loud knock rattled the door.

  “Ember, you in there? It’s Bo ... and Regan.”

  “Can they come in?” Ember tucked some hair behind her ear.

  I shrugged. “I guess. I’ve got to
get back to work anyway.” I started for the door, but Ember held up her arm.

  “Just wait until we can be sure he’s gone, okay?”

  I conceded, leaning back against the door. This was the wrong kind of attention. All wrong. It could have been worse, though. I had to repeat that in my head. Some secrets were so deep I could hardly feel their roots in my veins when I was in mixed company.

  That’s a lie. They were always there. The secrets. Snacking on my soul.

  Ember slowly slid the chain out of place and let her arm fall loosely at her side as she stepped back. “Is he gone?” She looked between Bo and Regan as she re-latched the door behind them.

  “He is,” Regan answered. “I double checked with Lissa. His friends dragged him out. He was pretty drunk.”

  “That doesn’t matter, Regan,” Ember snapped.

  Bo hesitantly placed his hands on her shoulders, lifting a finger to her chin when she wouldn’t look at him right away. “He knows, Ember. He was just saying...”

  “Sorry.” She sighed. “Where’s CJ?”

  Regan stuffed his hands in his pockets. “My car. The sooner I get him home, the better.”

  I stared at Regan’s tattered Converses. Old, not purchased that way. “No one called the cops, right?”

  His weight shifted to his left foot. “Right. If you don’t want to be alone tonight, you can come stay—”

  “No.”

  “Georgia,” Bo spoke in the same nursery rhyme volume Ember had pestered me with since she followed me back here, “Lissa said for us to tell you that you can go home for the night. Use the back door...”

  “What?” I looked around at three apparently concerned faces. “Like I’m a refugee? Christ, nothing happened.”

  Ember opened her mouth to speak.

  “No,” I stopped her. “Nothing happened. Dex is gone. And, I intend to finish out the rest of my shift so I can earn my money. Some of us don’t have rich parents who put us up in North Cove.” I brushed past her for the door.