with Everything
I may look like a cold hearted bitch on the outside and okay, act like it too, but I’m not. Really. The deposition is entering its fifth hour and I’m so happy I have this entire case memorized and these questions are just coming out of me without a ton of thought. Because when I ask the expert, “So you really don’t know the cause of this fire?” I see Chad’s broad shoulders as he grabbed the secretary’s hips.
When I follow up with, “But you don’t have any evidence to substantiate that opinion?” I see Chad’s tailor-made navy pinstripe suit pants pooling at his ankles and her crying his name.
Yep, cold hearted bitch.
Finally, the deposition is done and I drive straight to the closest liquor store. I buy a bottle of Grey Goose. Then I go back to the shelf to buy a bigger bottle as well.
“This it?” the clerk asks without really bothering to look at me.
“Yep.” I nod. Then I see lottery tickets lining the counter. “You know what? My luck can’t get any worse. I’m going to buy ten dollars of Powerball.”
“You know it’s up to like two hundred million?” the guy asks.
“No,” I answer. I don’t play the lottery, I don’t believe in luck or any of that shit. You make your own luck in this life.
“You want the payoff right away?”
“Sure, whatever,” I answer and start checking my phone. I have messages from Chad that I delete immediately. I look at a message from my best friend in Atlanta, Justin. Yes, he’s the same one that paid for my lunch today.
Are you okay?
Then.
What happened?
How is the deposition going?
Seriously, are you okay? Chad is running around here like a chicken with his head cut off. Did you break up? Over lunch?
Ugh. I’ll deal with that later.
“You know what, I want nine quick picks and for one ticket I want to pick numbers.”
I bend over, filling in numbers as he prints out my other nine tickets. I pick 3, 21, 33, 36, 26 and 19.
Why those numbers? I’ll tell you later, much later.
I grab my two bottles of liquor and my lotto tickets and high-tail it to the car.
I really don’t remember the drive home, but I’m relieved to see my house and my sister’s SUV still in the driveway. Then I remember that my house is tainted. Fucking men and their dicks.
“Cari!” I call as I walk through the foyer and throw my purse and keys on the table by the door.
“In here,” she answers from the kitchen.
When I walk into the newly renovated kitchen, she’s leaning over the counter and shoving something in her mouth while reading a magazine. “What the fuck are you eating?”
“Hmmm,” she mumbles with her mouth full.
“What are you shoving in your mouth before I get in here like I’m going to scold you?”
She just shakes her head while she continues to chew.
“Do you really think I can’t see you chewing?”
She exaggeratingly finishes chewing, and I stand there with my two bottles of Grey Goose and watch her. “Nutter Butters,” she mutters, and a red blush creeps up her neck like I caught her masturbating.
“Why were you hiding like you thought you’d get in trouble?” I ask as I walk around her and put the two bottles down on the stainless steel counters.
“Two bottles of...vodka…I can’t wait to hear this.”
“Where’s Jackson?” I look around for the cutest kid on the planet.
“He’s in the office playing.” Cari tosses her long brunette hair with perfect blonde highlights behind her like she is in a shampoo commercial.
“So…” I say, waiting to hear why she was stuffing Nutter Butters in her mouth.
“Jack and I are off carbs.” She shrugs.
“Oh really?” I start unscrewing the top of the bigger bottle of vodka.
“Yes.” She looks back at her magazine.
“And why is that?”
“I need to lose a little bit more weight to fit in my pre-baby clothes.”
“Oh, your size twos don’t fit yet.” Sarcasm drips from my voice. I can’t help it, I’ve always been jealous of Cari’s thin frame, gorgeous hair, and perfect features.
“No, asshole. They don’t and they’re all my couture clothes. I would never pay a thousand dollars for a skirt now.” Her full lips pout.
“I really don’t feel bad for you. Get them altered to your fat size four ass.” I take a huge gulp of my savior right from the bottle.
“Whatever, you’re just jealous.” Hair toss.
“Um…of your gorgeous body and clothes? Why yes I am.”
“But Megan, you’re so striking. I don’t understand why you’d be jealous of me.” This is a lie. I’ve told her countless times why I’m jealous, I really just think she wants to hear it again.
This is a long time fight between us. It’s true that women want what they can’t have or don’t have, be it hair, ass, or man. Cari has my dad’s olive skin tone, his brown hair and eyes. I unconsciously run my hand through my auburn hair. Okay, it’s not exactly auburn, more like scarlet and it is in stark contrast to my pale, freckle covered skin. Why would I be jealous indeed? Asshole.
“Ugh, whatever.” I fill my mason jar glass with ice and pour vodka until it reaches the top of the glass. That’s right, it’s on.
“Wow, really?” Cari is really paying attention now. I don’t drink that much. I mean I have at least a glass of wine a night, but that doesn’t count, right?
“Yes, really.” I hold my glass up in a cheers to her and take a gulp. It burns like a fucker going down, but a few more swigs and I won’t feel the burn at all. “You want one?” One thing I remember just now is I prefer whiskey. Do not ask me why I bought two huge bottles of vodka when I like whiskey better.
“Do you have tonic?” Cari sashays over to the fridge and looks inside for tonic. “You have nothing to eat.”
“We eat take out a lot.”
“You eat take out and look like that.” Cari scans her eyes up and down my body.
“I run,” I mutter and take another gulp.
“Oh here,” she says and straightens up with an open Fresca from the back of the fridge. I have no idea where that came from but shrug my shoulders as I pour the flat soda into her glass with vodka.
Her phone trills and I almost jump out of my skin. I glare at it.
“Sorry.” She shrugs. “I have it so loud because I always lose it in my purse. Hey Jack.”
I continue to take small sips of my drink. Each one is peeling off a layer of the stress from the day.
“Yes, I’m at Megan’s. I’m not sure yet, she just got here. Can you bring us dinner and pick up Jackson?” She smiles at me.
“No, I’ll stay here.” She steps out of her Tory Burch wedge sandals and loses about six inches. “Okay babe. We’ll see you in a few.” She puts her phone back on the counter. “I should go check on Jackson, he’s being awfully quiet back there.”
I follow her to the office, still taking sips, and when I look down it’s almost gone.
“Oh shit,” she whispers when she gets to the door. She stops in her tracks and whips her head to look at me and I bump into her. Her face is enough to make me laugh, and then I see my angelic nephew using markers to color Chad’s collection of signed footballs. The six footballs from the colleges in the South Eastern Conference were scattered on the floor. They are now covered in multi-color scribbles and outlines of a five year old hand.
“Look Mommy, my hand.” Jackson has a full head of brown curls and he is pointing at the balls with such pride I really don’t know what to say.
“Jackson, those are so…pretty,” Cari starts cautiously. “But what have we told you about coloring on things without permission. We’re going to have to go to time out.”
“Do people still do that with their kids?” I interject.
“Yes, people do it,” she spits through clenched teeth. “
Come on Jackson, you can sit on the couch for three minutes.” Cari takes Jackson by the arm.
“You know what Jackson,” I say, stopping them from exiting. “I actually think they look way better now. I might even keep them.” I laugh.
“Megan, Chad is going to have a heart attack.” Cari nervously runs her hand through Jackson’s curls.
“Oh well,” I sing as I walk to the den and sit in the corner of the couch. Then I decide I need to get comfortable to do the amount of drinking I plan on doing and I pop back up and head to my bedroom.
I push the door open and I swear it smells like sex. “I need to get this shit fumigated. I wonder if they have sex be gone Febreze?”
“I don’t think that is an option.” Cari leans her shoulder on the doorframe.
I disappear into my closet to get yoga pants and a t-shirt. She follows me.
“You going to spill it or what?” she asks from the doorway.
“I walked in on Chad pile driving his secretary on my fucking bed today.”
Her face looks like she’s just tasted something disgusting. “Are you okay?”
“Hmmmm, let’s see. I come home to change in the middle of the day and discover my prick of a boyfriend fucking his secretary and she’s using my vibrator.”
I don’t have time to duck as vodka flies through the air and lands on my chin and my shirt. Cari is choking. “Holy shit, I’m sorry…I didn’t see that coming and I’d just had a drink.”
“Yeah, well it pretty much goes along with the rest of this piece of shit day.”
“She was using your vibrator?”
I nod as I take another drink. “It was dirty too.”
There goes the face again.
“Why do you keep making that face?” I ask her.
“Because I don’t understand what’s happening…dirty vibrators, pile driving…he’s fucking his secretary?”
“It appears that way.”
“Well…” She’s at a loss for words and is just staring at me with pity and...here it comes. The “I told you so” I’d been so looking forward to hearing. Did you catch the sarcasm?
“Don’t,” I say, holding up my hand to stop her before she starts. “Seriously. I know, you told me. I’m stupid for even being with him. Once a cheater, always a cheater and all that shit.” She just raises her eyebrows at me. “Can you at least wait until I’m super drunk?”
“Okay.” She smiles and takes demure sips of her drink.
“At least he was wearing a condom,” I say, walking past her to leave the closet.
“Why do you care?” She asks as I stand there staring at my beautiful, soiled bed.
“Can you believe he fucking did this in my bed? These are my favorite sheets, and it took me three months to find this duvet.” I hold my drink out in a goodbye salute to the bedding.
“Megan…” Cari starts.
“I care because he obviously has been fucking her. You don’t take a one-time hook up to your girlfriend’s house and let her use your girlfriend’s vibrator.”
I put my drink down on one of Chad’s shirts that just happens to be draped on the dresser. Then I walk over to my bed and start ripping all the sheets off and throwing them into a pile on the floor.
“How did he even know where your vibrator was?” My sister has moved to the bed and is unbuttoning the duvet cover.
“Are you serious?” I ask as I continue pulling and throwing the sheets and duvet cover on the floor.
“What?” She looks up, confusion evident on her face.
“We use it together.” The words are slow like maybe that is something I shouldn’t be sharing.
“You DO?” Redness creeps up Cari’s neck again.
“Yeah, a ton of people do that,” I say defensively.
“They do?” My sister is shaking her head, incredulous.
“Yes, they do Cari.”
“Why?”
“Ugh…I’m not having this conversation with you. Ask Jack.” I grab all the sheets and the duvet and start down the hall. “Get my drink!” I yell over my shoulder and almost walk into the wall. “Fuck,” I mutter to myself.
“Hey!” she calls back. “You dropped your underwear back here…this is so gross,” Cari mutters.
I turn to see her holding a pair of panties between her thumb and index finger that I would never wear.
“Um…those aren’t mine,” I comment. I mean, can this get more disgusting? I guess it’s starting to become a little funny, because...come on. Her panties? She left her fucking panties.
I laugh as Cari drops the panties on the floor. “Nasty,” she yells as she kicks them toward my room.
I walk through the kitchen and attempt to open the back door. Cari walks past me and bumps me out of the way with her hip and opens the door. The humidity slaps me in the face as I step onto the back deck. “Chad and I sit out here all the time.”
“It is nice,” Cari comments and then examines my face, which gives away nothing.
I hadn’t realized I said that out loud, I certainly didn’t mean to. Walking out to the fire pit that Chad just put into the back of the lot, I take in the five Adirondack chairs spread out evenly around the stone lined pit. I throw all of my sheets and duvet into the pit. Then I look for the lighter. I grab it off the ledge of the pit at the same time Cari hands me my glass. It’s almost empty. Damn.
“Do you have lighter fluid?”
“Hmmm,” I say as I look around. “I need another drink.” I turn and make my way back to the house. After putting ice in the glass, I feel the day settle on my skin. Hanging my head, a sob escapes my lips. I cover my mouth with my hand, trying to hold it all in. Frustrated, I grab the bottle of vodka and glass and stomp back outside.
“So you told him to leave?”
“Yep,” I answer and pour the vodka on the sheets.
“Megan…” Cari starts.
“What?”
She gives up and sits in one of the chairs and crosses her legs.
I lean over the pile and light the edge of the duvet on fire. The entire pile catches quickly and the heat simmers in the air. Falling into a seat next to Cari, I take in the eerie blue color of some of the flames.
“You sure you don’t care about those balls?”
“I will cut those balls off if they ever come near me.” I take a sip of my drink. “Pretty ironic, right? Girl who breaks up marriage is shocked by cheating ways of live in boyfriend.”
“You didn’t know when all that started.”
“But then I did know.”
“Megan, I have to admit I’m not surprised…”
“I’m not drunk yet,” I interrupt.
“Okay.” She laughs and it’s a tinkling sound. A pretty girl’s laugh. I try not to laugh at things because it’s not a pretty girl’s laugh, it’s sort of loud and always obnoxious.
Just then the back door opens, and the perfect husband to my perfect sister waltzes into the backyard with Jackson in tow.
“Did you know…”
“Yes, Megan says it’s fine.” She gives Jack a look, warning him to shut up.
“Okay,” he hedges. “I brought Mellow Mushroom.”
“JACK! We’re not eating carbs,” Cari whines as she uncrosses her legs and motions for Jackson to come sit on her lap.
“I got you a salad.” He smiles and it turns his entire face into something that should be on the cover of a romance novel, complete with dimples and blue eyes.
I see Cari tense.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, eat a piece of pizza. You look like you’re anorexic anyway.” I take another gulp of my drink and watch the burning of my sheets.
“Remember Jackson, that is a grown up word that you shouldn’t use,” Cari comments, glaring at me.
“So…I guess Jackson and I’ll eat here and then I’ll take him home?” Jack and Cari exchange a look.
“Which word Mom?”
“What?” Cari asks sweetly.
“What word is adult?” Jackson repeats
.
“Oh never mind.” She gives up. “That’s fine babe,” Cari finally answers Jack’s question. She gets up and kisses him on the cheek and smoothes Jackson’s hair. Yes, the husband is the fourth Jackson and goes by Jack. Their son is the fifth. A lot of southern people like to do this. I think if I have a daughter I will name her Megan, Junior. What? Megan’s a cool name.
Not that I want a family. I really don’t want a family. I don’t want a husband. I hate men. All men. I will have sex with whomever I want from now on and not have to deal with the other shit. I won’t have to trip on his shoes all over the floor. I won’t have to put cans in the trash that are sitting on the counter because Chad was too lazy to move over one foot to do it himself.
They walk into my house and leave me there, sulking.
The flames start to mesmerize me, and I let my mind go numb as I stare into the fire, not thinking about how I got here…burning the sheets that I love. I should be in New York with my friends drinking martinis.
Someone clearing his throat shakes me out of the zone, and I look back to see Jack with his hands shoved in his slacks. “Sorry. You hungry? I got your favorite.”
Now, this is the difference between Jack and most men. I bet Chad didn’t even know what my favorite pizza is, but Jack does. My sister is a lucky bitch. I would marry a man if he was like Jack. I just don’t know any like him…not anymore anyway.
I smile and realize my face is wet. “Thanks Jack.”
He waits for me to join him before he walks into the house. He drapes his left arm over my shoulder. “You’re going to be fine. That guy wasn’t good enough for you. You knew that.”
I nod and wipe the tears from my cheeks. I do know that Chad isn’t good enough for me, but what does that even mean? He has a good job, he is smart and we had sex regularly. I mean I’m not sure what else I should be expecting from a man? He definitely looked good on paper.
Chapter Three
It’s Not Complicated, Really...
I’m currently lying on the floor examining the ceiling. Cari, who is more drunk than I’ve ever seen her, has taken off her shirt and is sitting in her camisole and Capri pants. Her Tory Burch wedges are placed neatly next to her matching handbag.
“I think I’ll take my vibrator into work tomorrow and give it to her.”
Sunshine & Whiskey Page 2
