The Second Jam

by Lila Felix

  We finished eating and stuffed the leftovers in his dorm-sized refrigerator which was bare except for orange juice.

  “I’m gonna go.” I yawned.

  “Let me drive you home. You’re exhausted.”

  “I’ll be fine.” On cue, I proved myself wrong, stumbling a little and falling back into his embrace.

  “Sleep on your bed. I’ll take the floor.”

  “I don’t have anything to wear. Look at me.”

  Thought I’d changed from my practice gear, I still looked like a mess in my tight yoga pants and tank top.

  “You can borrow some stuff. Seriously, I’m not giving you a choice here. Stay here or let me take you home.”

  My self-sufficiency swelled in me, but I didn’t have enough energy to grant her a fight.

  “Fine. Give me clothes. I’m going to take a shower.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Cyrus

  I broke my word. I didn’t sleep on the floor. I tried to, but it was killing me that Beatriz was in the same room with me and I couldn’t see her. Sometime in the middle of the night, I pulled my blanket to the chair and went to sleep with my gaze on my girl.

  “Cy. Cy, wake up.”

  Beatriz’s voice was in my ear. I opened my eyes to find her kneeled in front of me with that smile.

  “Hey, I’m going to go. It’s early. I don’t want to freak my dad out seeing me leave here.”

  I rubbed my eyes awake. I didn’t want her to go.

  “Okay. Let me walk you out.”

  “No. I’m fine. Go get in your bed.”

  I was too tired to disagree and my neck was killing me. “Be careful going home and text me when you get home, please.”

  “Really?”

  Her surprise at my chivalry made me sick. That stuff should be expected, especially with a girl like her.

  “Yes, really. I’ll worry all day.”

  “Aww, you’ll worry? You’re extra sappy in the morning.”

  “You better go before you get caught by Daddy.”

  “Bye!”

  “Text!”

  My eyes weren’t even open for the last part of the conversation. I had gotten in the bed and my senses were swirling around the heat she’d left for me and her spicy-rose smell all over.

  True to her word, she texted me when she got home and then again all day. I answered them on my breaks and lunch. She made fun of me for not wanting to text while I was on the clock. I was raised to believe that if someone is on the clock, then they should be working—if not, they’re stealing time and money.

  That night was my reading lesson again. I didn’t even mind it anymore. Beatriz didn’t make a big deal about it.

  “Are you coming for dinner, Son?” Jacob was speaking to Peter who wasn’t even paying any attention to the man.

  I knew that Jacob would never see me the way he did Peter, especially when Beatriz allowed the lie to perpetrate.

  “Peter.” I interrupted.

  “What?” He barked at me.

  “Jacob is speaking to you.”

  One thing I couldn’t stand was blatant disrespect. I’d bore the brunt of disrespect my whole life. If nothing else, everyone should be respected for being a human being. It was enough to deserve decency.

  “Yeah?”

  He said yeah to an older man. He needed his teeth knocked down his throat.

  “Nothing, nothing.” Jacob replied and then he clapped me on the shoulder. “Would you like to come for dinner?”

  Peter hadn’t noticed Jacob speaking to him before, but he was well aware of the turn of events.

  “I’d love to. Thank you.”

  I knew the invitation was empty and something told me that by the end of the day it would be void. Jacob tended to forget things and repeat scenarios. I’d begun to wonder about his mental health on more than one occasion, but Beatriz had enough on her plate.

  Plus, he told me his wife was alive when she wasn’t.

  “It’s time for me to go home. I’m going to call Bea, see if she can drive me today.”

  “I’ll drive you home, Sir.”

  “Good. Let me get my stuff.”

  The man came to work with nothing.

  I waited a few minutes for him to come out, bidding Pedro goodnight. Pedro followed him out and gave me some generalized directions in a hushed tone. If I got lost, I could always call Beatriz and she could direct me.

  To my surprise, Jacob had no trouble pointing out his way home. He invited me home, but without Beatriz, it felt like a violation, so I declined. He had me stop on the way home and get him a burger and fries.

  I called Beatriz, just in case she was worried about him. The man didn’t carry a cell phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, I’m just letting you know I brought your dad home and we stopped for his dinner. I didn’t want you to worry.”

  She didn’t say anything for a few minutes. “You brought my dad home?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you got him something to eat?”

  “Yes. Did I do something wrong? He said he didn’t feel like driving. He seemed a little off today.”

  “That’s fine. Thank you. I’ll see you in a few, right?”

  “I have to get home and shower and then I’m on my way. Do you need me to stop and get you anything to eat? Is there anything you want?”

  “I can order something. Just get here.”

  “Yes ma’am.”

  Shit. I knew I should’ve called her before I brought him home. She was protective of her dad. I’d overstepped my bounds and now she was pissed.

  I was genuinely scared of Beatriz angry.

  After showering and throwing on a pair of jeans, my last clean pair, and gray t-shirt, I twisted my hair into a knot at the back of my head. I looked at myself in the mirror and didn’t like what I saw anymore. I was changing, so a change of landscape was necessary. The process took me a few minutes, but after I was done, I felt like a new man.

  I knocked only once and the door flew open with a scream.

  “What did you do?”

  “What? I shaved. It’s not a big deal.”

  Her face fell. “I loved the beard.”

  Oh, Cyrus, you son of a bitch.

  “You did? It’ll be back in a few weeks.”

  “I feel like we need a funeral.”

  “For my beard?”

  “Yes.” She covered one side of my face with her palm. “Such a shame. Get in here.”

  Beatriz shut the door behind me but before I could make it any further into her apartment, she’d encircled me with her arms and her head was pressed between my shoulders. I didn’t ask questions. I was too busy sponging in her touch, the way she hung onto me so fiercely.

  “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For taking care of my dad. That means more to me than anything you could’ve done in my life.”

  Her hands were over my heart. It was thumping out of my chest. I knew she had to have been able to feel it. I was sure she could hear it too.

  “I’d do anything for you. That includes your family.”

  It was too soon to say things like that, but it was truth if I’d ever spoken it. She held on tighter, gripping the front of my shirt.

  I needed to see her face.

  “Hey, look at me.” I’d turned around in her arms, but she never released her hold. She finally met my gaze. “I need you to know something. I’m going to tell you how I feel. It’s not a request for you to reciprocate and it’s not any pressure. It’s just how I am. It’s enough for you to know what’s going on in here.” I took her hand and placed it open over my chest. “I’m falling hard and I’m falling fast.”

  “I can’t. Not yet.”

  “That’s fine. You don’t have to. Like I said, no pressure. Now, I’m due a lesson and I figured out some things.”

  Over the next hour, through slices of pizza, I showed her what I had learned. It was
utterly embarrassing to admit, but I’d snuck in my room while I was at home and dug through the closet until I found some videos and flash cards where Scout had attempted to teach me a long time ago.

  I handed the flash cards over to her and only missed two, mixing up thorough and through.

  “You’ve been studying.”

  “I have.”

  “I bought you these.” She pulled out a book and a CD. A cold sweat broke out along my brow. I’d listened to books on CD, but there was no book to look at. I envisioned books about puppies and potty training and unicorns shitting rainbows. “Don’t look at me like that Cyrus Black. It’s not baby books. It’s books for adult literacy.”

  “There was no look.”

  She snorted. “There was definitely a look. What did you think I was going to do, get you a Strawberry Shortcake book?”

  “No.”

  “You did! I’m not that bad, Cyrus.”

  “You’re not bad at all. You try to be, but I know better.”

  “Here.” She pulled out an older CD player with earbuds and stuck them in my ears. “You listen to the story and follow along.”

  I was doing fine, paying attention to every word until she decided to lie on my lap, her head right on the edge of my leg. Her legs were crossed out across the couch taking up the length of it. There was no way any man in his right mind could concentrate on some lame story about a guy and his ego with Beatriz next to him—much less learn anything.

  A few hours passed and I’d made more progress than I thought possible.

  “Get anything done?” I asked her.

  “Yeah. I learned that there’s a lot of work to be done.”

  “Do you ever get a break?”

  “Not really.”

  A person who worked as hard as Beatriz did deserve a vacation. Maybe one day when I got my shit together, I could give her one.

  She sat up and put her ever growing stack of papers down. “I have derby tomorrow.”

  I found it funny how she started conversations with her schedule as if to excuse herself from whatever I wanted her to do the next day.

  The thing was, I was still in shock that she’d even spend time with someone like me—so there was no excuse to be made.

  “You do.” I knew what she was getting at, but I had a plan of my own.

  “I can stop by after practice again.”

  “No. You’ll be tired.”

  “Okay…I’ll see you on Friday then, I guess.” She was disappointed. I hated to see that look on her face, but on some selfish level I wanted her to miss me and I wanted a chance to miss her.

  “Is that it, am I kicked out for the night?” She laughed but I could see that tell-tale sign of sleepiness on her face. I wouldn’t be that thing in her life which she couldn’t say no to. I wouldn’t. “I will see you on Friday. Wear a dress. It would be a damned shame to hide those legs on our first date.”

  “Just for that, I’m wearing pants. Long, long, baggy pants.”

  “Then I’m shaving the beard.”

  “I give up!” She feigned arrest with her hands in the air. “I’ll wear a dress if you promise not to shave again—like ever.”

  “Deal.”

  I made for the door and turned around to tell her goodbye.

  “What? You’re not going to kiss me again? You already broke the rule…” She sang the last sentence to egg me on.

  “I won’t make that mistake again. But tomorrow night, all bets are off.”

  “Goodnight, Cyrus.”

  “Goodnight, honey.”

  I didn’t turn around like I’d wanted to. I didn’t get to bring her to bed when she fell asleep like I’d wanted to. I didn’t call my best friend and tell her about this girl like I’d wanted to.

  I sighed and looked out the window of my miniscule apartment. I could do better than this. I could do better than barely surviving and having no life.

  I thought about Beatriz. She had plans. She knew exactly where she was going and what she wanted to do.

  I needed a plan.

  I sat at my desk and struggled through a list that probably contained more incorrect words than it did right words. That was number one on my list—learn to read faster. I chuckled at my own words—if they were even words. Beatriz had changed me so much in the last weeks.

  There were more goals on the list—making good with Scout and my family being last on the list.

  I didn’t want them to see me again unless I had something to show for my absence.

  I sat for a while and just let myself miss them.

  I let myself miss Beatriz.

  Sometimes the best way to love someone is to simply let yourself miss them.

  It stops taking love for granted in its tracks.

  The next two days went by like melted tootsie rolls. I slugged through the day, stopping myself from texting or calling her. Peter hadn’t show his face on Thursday or Friday and it seemed that in his absence, Jacob was back to his normal self. Though Jacob seemed to love Peter and, according to his words wanted him and Beatriz to be together, the man was at ease with him gone.

  It was the strangest working relationship I’d ever seen.

  And in the past months, I’d been through jobs like most people went through water.

  Both cars that had been waiting in the bay for their owners were taken away Friday afternoon. The place was empty with no pending jobs on the docket. I worried that I might be out of a job before I’d even gotten settled in this one.

  “I am going to go home now. There’s nothing to be done here. You have time to bring me home?”

  I had hoped to take the extra time to get ready for my date, but I knew how much it meant to Beatriz that her father was safe.

  “Yes. I have time.”

  After we passed through a place to get his burger and fries, this time with a milkshake, he began to look around.

  “Is this the way home?”

  “Yes, Sir. This is the way we took the last time.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  He did this all the time, the more I thought about it. I’d passed it off as simple forgetfulness the first couple of times, but it was becoming more and more frequent. This time I made sure he was all the way in the house and sitting down at his table eating before I left. It was a small, comfortable home. Pictures of Beatriz as a girl, a baby, and as a young woman were everywhere. She was loved in that household, that much was obvious.

  “I’m going now, Jacob. Do you need anything else?”

  “Stay with me. Have a drink.”

  I laughed and backed away while he rummaged through the cabinets until he found a bottle of tequila.

  “One drink. It won’t hurt you.”

  “I don’t drink, Jacob. It’s just not my thing.”

  “Fine. Fine. I’ll drink by myself.”

  And so he began. Before I’d even gotten to the door, two shots had been thrown down his throat.

  I went back to my apartment, showered and was ready way too early. I laughed looking in the mirror. This is the point at which I would normally call Scout and get her to give me all the tips.

  I didn’t feel like I needed tips with Beatriz.

  For once in my life I felt like I didn’t need anything to impress her—no secret tellings of her favorite things to help me get to the next date.

  What I didn’t know, I would ask.

  I waited outside her door until I knocked exactly at six o’clock, not a minute before and not a minute after.

  I heard her yell something at the door and then she opened it and all the breath from my lungs left me, stopping my heart in the process.

  If ever there was a dress that a girl hid in her closet—one that fit her like a glove.

  This was the dress. It wasn’t red, but it wasn’t pink—something in between. It was sleeveless, but also had lace sleeves. It was short underneath, but the added lace on the bottom made it look longer. It was just like her, the best of both worlds. She wasn’t red nor pink—she wa
s her own color. She wasn’t all sexy nor all innocent, Beatriz was the perfect mix of both, calling on each when they needed to make themselves known. She was all woman with girlish tendencies that kept her innocence intact.

  “You’re stunning.” I whispered, using the only breath I had left.

  “Thank you. This is my back of the closet dress. I had to take the tags off.”

  I took her hand and kissed the back of it. “I’m glad you saved it for me.”

  She grabbed a purse from somewhere just inside the door and came out, shutting it behind her. “Where are we off to?”

  “Well, we’ve eaten pizza and Chinese. I figured we’d try Brazilian.”

  “I’ve never been to a Brazilian place.”

  “My parents took me there for my high school graduation—which was all completely falsified and fake. But they acted as if I was legit. It was the first time I felt like I could make it on my own.”

  She grabbed my hand across the seat after we’d gotten on our way. “You do a damned good job on your own.”

  “I do okay. But you…all those plans and goals. You run around like there’s fire under you. I’ve never seen someone work as hard as you do.”

  “Sometimes I pay for it.”

  “Explain.”

  “Every once in a while I get run down. I spend a couple of days crying, eating everything I can get my hands on and sleeping as much as possible. Eventually, I get up and start over again. I really don’t know any other way to live.”

  I stared out of the windshield, pretending to concentrate on the traffic and getting us there alive in New Orleans gridlock.

  “Use me.”

  She turned her head so quickly that I thought maybe she’d hurt herself. “What?”

  “Use me as your time off. When you’re with me, take it easy. Forget about everything else and just have fun.”

  “Just have fun.”

  She said it like it was sin.

  “Do you need to Google it?”

  “No!”

  “I’m just asking. Can you even do it? Can you have fun and forget everything else?”

  “I can try.”

  We got to the restaurant and were seated within minutes. I’d never laughed so hard in my life. When Beatriz decided to have fun—she was unstoppable. She told a story of her dad and her mom meeting at some antique car show where her dad was checking out parts and her mom was the model taking pictures with the cars. It was love at first sight.