That right there was the issue, though. A sweet gesture. Everything they did was sweet. They held hands and they kissed while walking into the sunset. He laid down on top of her and they made love. He was pretty sure she'd even said “I love you” to him once, while in the throes of passion. He didn't mention it afterward, and neither did she, and he was glad. He wasn't ready to say it back and he didn't want things to be awkward.
It all should have been more than enough, but sweetness just wasn't, at least not for him. It was like he'd been eating ice cream all his life, and then someone handed him fat free frozen yogurt and claimed it was just as good. No it fucking wasn't – it wasn't even close.
Technically, he couldn't remember ever having had “ice cream”, so he supposed there was no guarantee he ever actually had experienced it. He could just feel it, though, and somehow knew Kitty wasn't quite what he looked for in a lover. And once you've tasted something amazing, you just can't go back to bland.
He tried to spice it up. She may not have been a very sexually open person, but she always encouraged him to be honest with her. To tell her anything. He'd ask her to try different positions, and sometimes she'd be willing, but other times not. He tried easing her into dirty talk, but it was always a hard no.
One time, he'd gotten his hand under her skirt while they'd been out at dinner. Watching her come at the table had gotten him so turned on, he'd been ready to drag her to the bathroom and fuck her over a sink. She wouldn't hear of it, though, and she was too embarrassed to jack him off under the table. He had to wait until they left, and by then, he was too annoyed to be interested anymore.
It's just sex – a relationship isn't built solely on sex. You two have lots of other things.
That was true. They joked a lot, and talked for hours. She encouraged him in all things, even if she could be a bit condescending at times. She took him everywhere, showed him everything, introduced him to all her friends. It was nice.
Nice. Nice and sweet.
“How are we doing today, Jon?”
Sloany sat down across from him and immediately took out her binder. It had been over a month since their fight, but she wouldn't let it go. Their meetings were strictly professional anymore. No more banter, no more playfulness. She would go over his finances with him, give him his allowance, listen to any issues he had with the halfway house, and then she would just go.
He hated it. He couldn't control his memory or his love life, apparently, but he could take control of this situation. Starting right now.
“Not so good,” he sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck.
“Oh? An issue at Benson House?” she asked, clicking her pen and taking out her notepad.
“No. It's something else.”
“The community center?”
“No.”
“Have you heard about your hearing?” she asked, referring to Mr. Beaumont's court case to help get Jon a social security number.
“That's all fine.”
“If you don't want to talk about whatever is bothering you, I understand,” she said, unclicking her pen and starting to put things away. “We can meet up next week.”
“It's this guy,” he blurted out. She raised her eyebrows.
“At the halfway house?”
“Yeah. Yeah, he stays there.”
“Alright. Have you spoken to Mr. Tupper about him?”
“No, I can't really go to Gary with this one.”
“Then what's the issue? Maybe I can broach it with Mr. Tupper,” she offered. Jon took a deep breath.
“You see, this guy, he's a real asshole. Emotional, too. Like a teenage girl, just all over the place,” he said. She kept staring at him. “And you know, people do a lot of nice things for him, and he's still a dick. Even this one time, his best friend was just trying to look out for him, and he was such a bastard to her. She told him how she honestly felt, and he just lashed out at her. Mostly because he thought she was right, and that made him angry.”
“Wow. This guy does seem like a real asshole,” she agreed.
“Believe me, you have no idea. You should try living with him.”
“Thanks, but I've lived in a place with a pest problem. I'm good for a while.”
He smiled at her.
“Even worse, though, is this guy is awful with words. He's too stupid to know how to apologize right, and he's really bad at asking for help, even though he needs it all the time. I was thinking maybe you could help him?” he asked. She took a deep breath and let it out in a dramatic sigh.
“I don't know, Jon. I have such a heavy case load, and this guy sounds like a real problem child.”
“He is. But I think he's worth it.”
She was silent for a second, her eyes appraising him. He hoped she didn't find him wanting.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think he is, too,” she said slowly. He tentatively reached across the table for her.
“Friends again?” he asked as she reached out to shake his hand.
“Huh uh, you said best friends. Don't puss out on me now,” she said. He barked out a laugh and let her go.
“God, I missed you, Sloany.”
“Good. I knew if I held out long enough, you'd break down.”
“You're evil.”
“To the core, kiddo. Now tell me about life.”
And he did. He told her all about his and Kitty's relationship, how it was great and yet not great. He didn't go into detail about the sex, but he did broadly explain how it just didn't do it for him. How it was weird, but he just somehow knew he liked something else.
“And there's nothing wrong with that,” she assured him. “Relationships wax and wane, even for people with amnesia, Jon. Maybe it's just running its course. Or maybe you just need to get over this hump and then you two will be better than ever.”
“Yeah ... maybe. Hey, I meant to tell you something. I used to smoke,” he said casually. Her jaw dropped.
“I'm sorry – what? Explain yourself,” she demanded. He smiled. That was the reaction he'd been hoping for from Kitty when he'd told her.
“I was walking down the street and wound up in this group of smokers and it hit me like sledgehammer. I've never craved anything so bad in my entire li-, well, you get the idea. I went to a store and bought a pack, smoked half the thing like it was nothing. I haven't smoked any since, but I tell you, I was definitely a smoker,” he told her the story. She leaned forward over the table.
“I think that's amazing, Jon. I mean, don't smoke anymore, for christ's sake, but still. Wow! You remembered something!” she exclaimed. He grinned at her, then just had to say it.
“You know, Sloany, I think I love you,” he blurted out. She blinked a couple times, then waved him away.
“They all say that to me, you know. Every single one of you sad cases,” she teased him.
“Yeah, but the difference is, you love me back,” he pointed out. She snorted.
“That makes absolutely no difference. My undying love for you is kept completely separate from our professional relationship,” she informed him. He burst out laughing.
“Oh, Mrs. Sloan. In another life, I think I would have married you.”
“Hey, you never know. Maybe you did.”
Before
Halloween.
Jay had always loved Halloween. Acting silly, going to parties, scary shit. All of it was awesome in his opinion.
Delaney loved it even more than him. He refused to dress up, but she'd created a gypsy type of costume for herself. Her bright red lipstick was tempting him all night, just begging to be smeared across her mouth with his own lips. Or other body parts. Her skirt was made out of a bunch of scarves and gave up tantalizing glimpses of thighs and hips. More than once throughout the night, he was able to sneak a hand inside the billowy fabric.
She'd lost her job that morning. She'd come home and they'd both taken ecstasy to make her feel better. Then they'd fucked until they'd started coming down, after which they'd done a couple lines each. Aft
erwards she'd been buzzing around their shitty apartment, putting together her costume and chattering away.
Jay didn't have any job at all, except occasionally running weed and coke in exchange for more drugs. While Del got ready, he packed them doggy bags of goodies. Portable fun.
They went from party to party. Some they were invited to, and some they crashed. They took straight shots of Everclear and smoked weed which had been mixed with oxy. She'd blown smoke rings into his face, and he'd laughed and laughed.
They ended the night at Crash's, stumbling around and trying virtually anything that was put into their hands. More ecstasy, more coke. Crushed up codeine was snorted with vigor, and even more grain alcohol was drunk. They'd been ready to go when good ol' Crash had popped up with a hypodermic needle. Del had already been outside, laughing and cackling with some of the other girls, so Jay had followed Crash into the back of the house.
“Thought you'd be interested, my man,” the other guy creaked out. Jay nodded and slipped off his jacket.
It had been a long, long time since he'd injected anything into his body. He'd left all that behind in Iowa when he'd moved. But somewhere along the line during the night, a sort of funk had fallen over him. Watching Delaney smile and be happy. So poor and so skinny. All his fault. But forever was forever, as she liked to say, so he just had to deal with a moment of depression and trust they'd be okay. He knew the speed would help. Would bring back the happy.
“Been a while,” he mumbled, fumbling with the tourniquet
“You wanna wait, do this with Del?”
It was a natural question. Everyone knew there was no Jay, and there was no Del – there was just Jayson-and-Delaney. Where one was, the other was right with them. Normally, it would be the same right then. She'd probably want to tie it on for him.
But then she'd want to try, and that he could not allow.
“No. Fix me up.”
A cotton dunked in Everclear was smeared on the inside of his elbow. He slapped at his arm, making the veins bulge, while Crash mixed the amphetamine in a baggy. Then Jay closed his eyes and didn't move until he felt a pin prick on his skin.
“You ready, man?”
“Do it.”
A quick stab. Pressure. A moment of silence, and then ... a rush. Moving through his entire body. He gasped and dropped his arm, then let his head fall back. He stared at the ceiling as goosebumps broke out all over his skin.
“Yeah,” Crash chuckled. “That's the good shit right there. Happy Halloween, fucker.”
Jay sat still for as long as he could, then he put his jacket back on. Crash handed him a baggie of crushed up speed, which Jay took before going outside. Del was still talking to her friends, but he wrapped an arm around her waist and literally dragged her away.
“Sorry, girls, but I gotta take this little lady trick or treating!” he called out, then he picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder.
“Jay!” she squealed and laughed, clinging to his jacket while he carried her down the street. “What has gotten into you?”
“Only you, babe. Only you,” he laughed as well, then he smacked her on the ass.
“C'mon, put me down, or I'll puke down your back,” she threatened, then made convincing retching noises. He sat her down.
“God, you look amazing tonight, Del. But didn't everybody? What a good time. Crash was really on point tonight. How long do you think he can keep going?” Jay asked, walking so fast she had trouble keeping up. Their subway stop was a couple blocks ahead and he felt like he was walking in slow motion. He wanted to jog, run, sprint, go into hyper drive. “He's been throwing these crazy parties for over a year now, the cops are gonna shut him down soon. Will suck when it happens. You ever been arrested, Del? I can't believe I've never asked you that! Jesus, what else don't I know about you?”
She abruptly grabbed his arm and pulled him around so he was facing her.
“What did you take in there?” she asked, staring him in the face. He swallowed thickly and glanced around.
“What all did you take in there?” he asked back. She punched him in the shoulder.
“I'm serious, Jay.”
“Me, too, because I'm not gonna share if I don't know what other drugs you've got in your system.”
She looked surprised, then she thought about it.
“I don't know, whatever I took with you. Some oxy, some coke. A bunch of E,” she prattled stuff off. Jay nodded and pulled the baggie out of his pocket.
“You should be fine.”
“What do you have?”
“The most incredible speed I've ever had.”
He'd been very careful with Delaney and speed. He didn't want to become addicted again, and he did not want her using it a lot. It was a fun party drug, but nothing more, and he was determined to keep it that way for her. It was a rare treat, and she could barely contain her smile.
“Jesus, it must be. Your pupils look like marbles,” she told him. He shrugged and managed to pinch out a healthy amount of the powdered drug onto the back of his hand.
“C'mon, get this over with quick so we can go home and ride it out,” he urged. She leaned over his hand and carefully snorted it all up.
“Good to go, babe.”
At Crash's, it had been like electricity boiling through his veins. Lightning in his body. Fucking amazing. By the time he got to the bottom of the subway platform, though, he knew something wasn't right. He felt murky, like he was wading through mud. He blinked his eyes and tried to clear his head. He was practically a professional drug do-er, he could figure out what was going on.
You took a massive hit of stimulant from an unknown source, on top of drinking your weight in a depressant, numb nuts. Shit, how much alcohol has Del had!?
She was laughing at something. Leaning against him and laughing and laughing. That sound he loved so dearly. It took him two tries, but he managed to capture her chin in his hand and bring her head around to face him. They fell into a wall and he kissed her, his tongue all over the place.
“I wanna do it,” she whispered against him, pulling at his t-shirt. “Right now.”
“Home,” he managed to mumble. “At home.”
“No, now,” she whined, rubbing her body on his.
“You're so fucking amazing,” he sighed, sliding to the floor. She groaned.
“No, no, no,” she complained, pulling at his wrists. “You can't black out! I need various parts of your anatomy right now!”
He managed to climb to his feet, but he almost immediately fell over again. Del took the full brunt of his weight and they stumbled clear across the platform. She was a tiny girl. So much smaller than him – that she was even managing to keep him off the ground was amazing.
“I love you, babe,” he said to the top of her head. “I love you more than air.”
“I love you, too,” she replied through gritted teeth. “But I need you to stand up right now.”
“I don't have to stand. When I'm with you, I can fly,” he told her.
“No flying. Standing is good. Please, Jay,” she begged, starting to pant.
“Watch me,” he whispered.
“Babe, I just need you to – BABE!”
He'd jerked upright abruptly, flinging his arms out to his sides. He could feel his feet leaving the ground, knew it was happening. Delaney's voice was loud. She must have been cheering, and he could just barely see her reaching out for him. He grabbed onto her hand as he started to fly.
“Come with me,” he breathed, pulling her along.
And then they were flying over the edge of the subway platform, soaring up, up, and away.
9
Something about New York in March.
Jon couldn't put his finger on it, but it felt ... special. Maybe it was because the weather was occasionally nice. Sometimes the chill was almost out of the air. Or maybe it was knowing spring was right around the corner. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he could feel it. He'd been able to feel it way back in Februar
y, when he'd been anticipating March. He'd told Kitty about it, and unbeknownst to him, she'd held onto the info and ran with it.
“Surprise!”
John Doe didn't have a birthday, but Kitty didn't see why Jon Doherty couldn't have one. He'd said March felt special – maybe it was because he'd been born in that month.
She'd gotten them tickets to a Yankees game. They went with a large group of people, a bunch of her friends he could usually tolerate pretty well. They had great seats and it was really an awesome day. They drank beer and ate hot dogs and yelled at the teams.
“Enjoying yourself?” she'd asked him during the seventh inning stretch.
“So much. Thank you, babe,” he'd replied, and she'd scrunched up her nose.
“Babe? Ew, I don't like that, makes me feel like a doll.”
“Sorry. Force of habit.”
“How? You've never called me babe before.”
Then a batter had struck a home run and he hadn't wasted too much thought on the word. He supposed it was strange – how could saying “babe” be a habit, when he'd never said it? Oh well, he'd just make sure not to say it again.
After the game they all separated. Normally, he spent 99% of his social time with Kitty, and only her. She'd been kind enough to realize maybe a little male bonding would be good for him. So the girls went on their own adventure, and the men were left to their own devices.
Since Jon couldn't remember if he'd ever been to Times Square or not, they all thought it would fun to go down there. Celebrate his kinda-birthday and go be tourists. He could even drink as much as he'd wanted, Kitty had gotten them a hotel room for the night, so he wouldn't have to go back to the halfway house.
They took over a high top table at the back of some large chain restaurant. Everything was over priced because, hello, Times Square, but none of the other guys cared. They all came from a lot of money, made a lot of money, had a lot of money. Since it was Jon's psuedo-birthday, they were all treating. The wings kept coming out of the kitchen and the beers kept flowing, and it was really a pretty good time
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