“Fill me in.”
“You don’t want to know about me. I’m not your type of girl.”
“Hmm, well what do you think my type of girl is?”
“Well, an educated one I’m sure. A successful business woman maybe. A woman that gets her hair and nails done and wears nice clothes. One that can go to the martini bar and laugh with you.” I describe the kind of woman I wish I would have been. Someone smart. Successful. A woman capable of actually being with a man like Cash.
“You have an interesting view of me. A little judgmental and stereotypical but interesting.”
“I’m not judging or stereotyping, but there are your kind of people and my kind of people and we generally don’t mix.” The statement is true. Sad, but true.
“Well, what is your kind of people, Jewel. You’ve done a great job assessing me, why don’t you tell me about your kind and let me make my own decisions?” He’s trying hard to remain friendly, but I can hear his frustration.
I sigh loudly. This guy isn’t giving up and we’re almost to Sheila’s house. I have to stop a block away. Don’t want her to see me with Cash and think I’m breaking one of her rules. That’s the last thing I need is to be kicked out of my recovery house because of a pretty faced man. As much as I don’t want to tell him about me, I am beginning to see I don’t have a choice.
“You really want to know about me?” I turn and question him, stopping a block from the house.
“Yes. Please.” I can see he sincerely wants to get to know me. I can’t explain why, but he does. Sucks that as soon as he hears just how much of a mess I am he’ll run the other way.
“Okay then,” I begin, crossing my arms over my chest in attempt to feel safe. To hold onto myself and my sanity as I tell this guy, who’s way out of my league, exactly why he’s out of my league.
“I don’t have a car or a place of my own. I work in a fast food restaurant flipping burgers because I have no skills other than finding a vein to inject heroin into. I’m a recovering drug addict. I almost died from an overdose a few months back and have been in treatment and clean since. I live in a recovery house with Sheila and she has rules. One is no boys so this is the end of the road for you, sir. Thank you for carrying my laundry although it wasn’t necessary. I’m from the streets, Cash, so when I say I can take care of myself I mean it. I’m not a fucking damsel in distress, and I’m not looking for a knight in shining armor.” Admitting my truth to him does more than just embarrass me, it ignites an anger that I can’t hide. I hate that I’m that woman I just described. I hate that I had to explain it to him.
He just stands there, not handing me my laundry, looking at me through very intense eyes.
“Well, Jewel, lucky for you I’m far from a knight in shining armor, and I can’t stand damsels in distress nor can I stand uptight snooty bitches. I don’t want to save you, Jewel. I just want to get to know you a little better. That’s all.” He hands me my laundry basket, his words hanging between us. After my confession he still wants to get to know me. How is that fucking possible? Is this guy for real?
Not knowing what else to say I mutter words that I know could change my life if he follows through, “Fine, if you want to get to know me then meet me at the laundromat every Saturday night. That’s the only place I go outside of work. Maybe I’ll let you walk me home again.” I’m not sure it’s the right thing to do and I am cautious not to be naïve again but if after hearing that I’m a recovering addict, he still wants to get to know me, what harm can it do? I just have to protect my heart. My soul. My sanity. He surely has the capability of making me lose them all.
“Really?” His dashing smile appears, making his eyes sparkle.
“I guess. What harm comes from making a friend right?” I shrug.
“Yeah, right. Friends are good.”
“Night, Cash.” I turn to walk away.
Before I’m too far he calls out, “Night, Jewel. Wait one more question.”
“What’s that?” I turn back to him.
“Is Jewel your real name?”
“As far as you need to know, yes. See you next week.” I turn and leave him on the corner before he can say anything else. I can feel his eyes watching me but I don’t turn back. This guy could be the death of me. I can see myself easily falling for him. Friendship, that’s all I agreed to. I can’t risk my progress because of a man. I already killed the girl I used to be by following a man I thought was meant for me. I can’t be that foolish again.
***
Over the next few weeks, Cash comes with Ruby to the laundromat and the three of us sit and talk and laugh. It’s the most normal friendships I’ve ever had. Before long, Ruby recruits other people to our little group. It’s a strange dynamic and even stranger way to meet people but something brought us all to this place. We all have something a little broken inside of us yet when we come together every Saturday night all our broken pieces come together, and we don’t feel so lonely, at least I don’t.
Amanda and Lena are the first real girlfriends I’ve ever had. In high school, I was a loner. Making friends meant showing them my life, my mother’s life, and I was too ashamed so I kept to myself. When I hooked up with Destin, my only friends were drug seeking whores, like me. Amanda and Lena are actually nice people that genuinely seem to want to be my friend. Of course there is Miss Ruby, who I’ve decided to adopt as my own grandmother and told her as much. She giggled and said she’d be proud to call me her granddaughter.
Life is going surprisingly smooth. I’ve been clean for six months now and almost have enough saved up to buy a car. Cash still walks me home most nights. He’s missed a few and Ruby says it’s because of work. I have no reason to doubt her so I don’t. Lena is pregnant and I swear to God she and Hap are the cutest couple I’ve ever seen. They give me a sense of hope. Like pure and true love can actually exist. Amanda is an unhappy housewife. She hasn’t come out and admitted it, but it’s not hard to tell. It’s especially easy to see that she and Jase, the broody dude, are into each other. I look forward to my Saturday nights with these people. All strangers who somehow found each other.
After weeks of courting me, relentlessly yet patiently, Cash asks me on a date. I can't deny that the thought of going out with him did things to my belly that I've never felt before but mixed with the flattery and excitement is a sense of fear and impending doom. I don't even give him a chance before I shoot him down, in a most bitch like manner, then run away. Literally leaving him standing, stunned, on the street corner.
Surprisingly he doesn't give up. If he's one thing it's persistent. When I see him standing there, in my halfway house, I feel anger and shame but mostly I feel sad. Sad for what I can never give him. There's nothing more I want to do then pack my shit and get as far away from Cash Green as possible. Sheila, on the other hand, calls me out on my bullshit, recognizes that I'm a coward, and encourages me to talk to him. Give him a chance. Guess I don’t have much of a choice. He's just standing there, watching me with those intense eyes.
Not having much of a choice I let it all out. Everything about my past comes spilling out of my mouth. Once I start my confession I can't stop until it's all laid out there, like a cadaver waiting for med students to pick it apart in hopes of finding out the cause of death. Des. Drugs. Prostitution. They killed my soul leaving nothing but an empty shell of a body struggling to live again.
I stand and wait for him to bolt. Surely a girl that fucked hundreds of men and women is a disgrace. A whore. But he doesn't. Instead he offers me something I've never had in my entire life. Understanding and Empathy. He doesn't leave. He stays, insisting he's not scared away. How did a girl like me end up with a man like him?
***
After my confession to Cash, I agree to let him take me on a date. I'd be lying if I said I was disappointed and that my confidence was rocked but I keep telling myself he's an important dude and these things happen. To keep myself busy I agree to go baby shopping with the girls. This is the first tim
e I've hung out with any of them outside of the Laundromat so it's safe to say I'm a bit nervous.
Reluctantly I agree to let Amanda pick me up. Up to this point Cash is the only one to see where I live. While I really like the girls and we've actually been talking on the phone during the week, I haven't confessed to them the things that Cash knows. I'm not sure I'll ever want to confess but I take it one day at a time.
At precisely noon there's a knock at the door. "I got it," I call out to Sheila who's engrossed in her daily soap opera. "I'm going to look at baby stuff with some girls I met. I won't be out late," I say as I pass the living room.
"Good for you. Have fun," she replies, waving her hand but never taking her eyes off the television. I shake my head and giggle at her dedication to the show and it's characters. She talks about them as though they’re friends and family. She has so many emotions invested. I think we all need that kind of connection. I have those connections to the characters in the stories I read. It's an escape and for a recovering addict, any healthy escape not involving getting high, is needed.
I grab my small purse and open the door. "Hey, Amanda. Thanks for picking me up."
"No problem. Ready?" She asks, smiling. I search her eyes for judgement but I find none.
"Yeah." She turns back towards her car. I follow her to the Lexus, a sweet fucking car, and one I never thought I'd ride in. "Wow, I love your car," I gush. One thing I learned from one of my mother's ex-boyfriends was cars. He was one of the good ones she dated and taught me all about cars. His passion for the automobile created a passion of my own. There's nothing like a sleek sports car or beefy muscle car.
"Thanks, it was a gift from my cheating husband. Sort of a 'Please forgive me for screwing my secretary' thing. Get in." Hitting a button the car beeps, unlocking the doors. She hustles around to the driver side as I slide in the front seat.
"Your husband cheats?" I finally ask once we're on the road. I don't want to pry, however she did bring it up.
"All the time. He's a bastard of epic proportions," she says dryly but I don't sense sadness in her tone.
"Why are you with him still?" I ask, then immediately regret it. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ask. You don't have to tell me." Trying to recover from my pushiness, she turns and gives me a smile, "You saw the car right?"
"Yeah, it is a beautiful car," I admit.
"It used to hurt. I left him a few times but being alone was more terrifying than staying with Luke. Besides, my father loves him. Our families are close. If I leave that creates a divide I'm not sure I want to be responsible for. Not yet anyway."
"That sounds lonely." I remember when Des would cheat on me. The feeling was gut wrenching. Nothing damages a person's self-esteem and self-worth as much as the one they love screwing someone else does. Her nonchalant attitude about it and willingness to speak so openly to me catches me a little off guard.
"It is sometimes but I'm meeting people on my own now and making my own friends. Life's changing, I just have to be patient. What about you Jewel, what's your story?"
"Uhh, you don't want to hear my story. Might scare you away…" I offer a nervous life, not wanting to destroy any friendship that might be there.
"Come on, I told you my dirt. It's your turn," she encourages. I'm not as open as Amanda. Granted we've been hanging out every week at the Laundromat and chatting on the phone a few times a week, but it's fluff talk. Never anything important. I'm surprised she told me what she did today. Guess it should make me feel good that she trusts me enough to vent, but do I trust her that much? If I tell her does that mean our whole circle is going to find out? Is that such a bad thing? Cash is able to see past all the bullshit I laid on him but I can't expect others to.
"Come on Jewel. We’ve been friends for what? A few months at least. I like you. I'm happy with the little group of friends we have. I've never had that before, not with real people anyway. All of my so called friends are high class, plastic, stepford wives that I can't stand. You can tell me, I won't judge you." She glances over at me and I can see she's being honest. Relationships are about honesty and trust right? Even friendships. If I tell her and she decides I'm trash, well, I'll have to deal with it and move on. I'm tired of being scared of people finding out. Tired of being ashamed of my past.
"Okay, well I'm a recovering drug addict. I woke up in a hospital from a coma about six months ago with no idea what happened to me. I've been clean since. Went to rehab then to Sheila's, where you picked me up. She's my recovery coach. I'm trying super hard to leave my past behind but I'm learning that I have to face it, accept it, and learn from it to really move on." I let out a deep breath, rubbing my hand nervously on my pants. It feels good confessing. It's getting easier the more I talk about it.
"You're an amazing girl Jewel. One of the strongest people I've ever met."
"Thanks. I don't always feel strong but I'm working on it."
"Well, you're doing a damned good job! You ready to do some shopping?" She asks, pulling into the parking lot of the Baby Depot. "Yeah, never been baby shopping before."
"Me either," she says excitedly. "There's Miss Ruby. Let's get our shopping on. Whoohoo," she hollers as we get out of the car. Before we head over to meet Miss Ruby I stop her, "Hey Amanda?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks."
"For what?" She looks at me, puzzled.
"Listening. Not judging me. The ride. All of it."
"That's what friends are for right?" She offers me a smile and a wink.
"Yeah, that's what friends are for."
We spend the next two hours in the baby store, buying every possible thing Lena's baby might need and probably some it doesn't. Ruby and Amanda are very generous in what they pay for and while I can only afford to get an outfit and a few packs of diapers, Lena is truly grateful to all of us.
"Well, that was fun. Who's hungry?" Miss Ruby asks as each of us pushes out a cart of baby stuff.
Lena is the first to respond, "I'm always hungry."
"I could use some food," I respond.
"Yeah, me too," Amanda rings in.
"Good, let's get a bit to eat then, my treat," Ruby announces. We all try to argue that she's done enough but she's not hearing a word we say. "When an old lady offers to buy you lunch you let her. That’s a lesson you young girls need," she scorns.
"A lesson to let someone buy us lunch?" Amanda asks, confused.
"No, a lesson that when Miss Ruby wants to buy lunch or dinner or anything else for that matter you just agree and say thank you. Otherwise you hurt my feelings and you don't want to see an 80-year-old woman with hurt feelings. Ask my grandson." Her words come out scornful, but she says them all with a smile.
"Well okay then, lunch is on Miss Ruby. Let's get this stuff unloaded, I'm starving," Lena announces.
Ruby offers Lena a sympathetic look, "another lesson, never let a pregnant woman go hungry. Let's get our butts moving girls."
***
I wake the next morning with a new sense of joy. Shopping and lunch with the girls was a normalcy I've never experienced. The value of true friendship is severely underestimated. We shared laughs and stories and best of all, there was not an ounce of judgement at our table. Just three young women and an older lady building friendships. I'm sure to onlookers we looks very mismatched. Our backgrounds are all so different. Within the circle though we fit perfectly.
I climb out of bed with my new sense of happiness and head to the shower. Before I can turn on the water my phone rings. I can't afford a cell phone but Cash insists he wants to be able to talk to me at any time so he bought me one. I'm still getting used to the weird ringtone. I glance at the screen and see Cash's name come across. I smile to myself. Can this day get any better?
"Hello," I answer, trying not to sound too excited. I haven't heard from him since he left. Admittedly I miss him. His acceptance of me, all of me, broke down some of the walls I've built around me. I'm allowing myself to feel things for him. Elated to hear his voice
is one of those feelings.
"Hello pretty lady. How are you?" His voice is even sexy from across the world.
"I'm good. How are you?" I respond, not wanting to talk about me. Instead I just want to listen to his voice.
"Honestly, I've been better but hearing your voice puts me in a good mood."
"What's wrong? Something happen with work?"
"You could say that. I don't want to get into it on the phone. I'll be back in the states in a few days. Can we get together when I get back? Tuesday maybe?" I can hear desperation in his voice. I quickly recap my work schedule in my head.
"Yeah, Tuesday is good. I work until 2, but I'm free after that."
"Good, I'll pick you up at 3 then okay?"
"Okay, sounds good."
"I can't wait to see you Cara."
"Me too," I reply. "I mean, I can't wait to see you too. I don't mean I want to see myself. Oh God, I'm mumbling." A soft chuckle comes from him, "I like it when you mumble but I knew what you meant. See you Tuesday."
"See ya."
***
The next few days crawl by. The anticipation of seeing Cash again, outside of the Laundromat, is the only thing on my mind. Even my dickhead boss can't get me down. This is a high like one I've never felt. Highs like this aren't supplied by cocaine or heroin. This is real life. Real feelings. Real adrenaline running through my veins. I can't imagine ever wanting this feeling to go away.
"Hey Lena, I need to ask a favor," I greet the moment she answers. I'm way out of my element here and hope that she can help me.
"Hey, what's up?" She beams cheerfully. Lena, regardless of being pregnant at 18, has got to be the most upbeat person I've ever known. The girl always has a smile on her face. I suck in a deep breath of air, preparing for what I'm about to ask her.
"Well, I'm meeting up with Cash tomorrow and I kinda want to buy a new outfit," I begin.
"That's great. Why do I feel like there's a but…coming?"
"I don't really shop for myself. Not for like cute clothes or whatever. I live in jeans, t-shirts and hoodies. I want something a little nicer but I'm nervous because I've never done the girly shopping thing."
Addict (The Laundromat Chronicles Book 2) Page 5
