by M. Sembera
He started to laugh then cleared his throat.
“She can hold her own, ya know,” I informed, leaning my head back against the headrest.
“Damn, what’d you do to her?”
I drew in a harsh breath that stuck in my chest for a moment before I exhaled. “I kissed her.”
“Ah, hell. Well, I guess you never really know ‘til you try.”
“Yea,” I mumbled, closing my eyes.
“You know, your dad and I had our share of fights.”
Keeping my eyes closed, I nodded, knowing the subject had changed from Joie to Roe.
“But when the fight was over, it was over. Just somethin’ to think about,” he imparted as we pulled up to my house.
Dad patted me on the back before stepping outside with my uncle when I walked in.
“Want me to make you something to eat?” mom offered as I grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator.
I shook my head.
Before I made it to my room, she stopped me. “Are you alright?”
“Just hungover.”
Mom reached up and grabbed hold of my chin. Moving my head around, she looked my face over.
“Do you need me to make you an eye appointment?”
“Nah, it’s sore but I can see fine.”
“Me and your dad are going to Charlotte and Auggie’s for dinner, you want to come?” When I shook my head, her expression leaned towards concern. “Want us to stay home?”
“I’m gonna hit the bed and try sleeping off this hangover. If I get hungry later, I’ll heat up leftovers. I do know how to use the microwave, ya know.”
Mom let out a laugh and then let me be.
I kicked my bedroom door closed and headed to my bathroom. Kicking my shoes off along the way, I was relieved to finally get out of my jeans and clean myself up. I leaned my back against the shower wall letting the water hit my chest as I tipped the bottle up and drank my beer. When I stepped out of the shower, I didn’t necessarily feel refreshed but at least I was clean. Toweling off my hair, I patted my beard dry before wrapping the towel around my waist. It felt good to brush my teeth. I checked my eye in the mirror once more before rubbing a few drops of beard oil together in my hands and massaging it into my beard.
Just FYI, proper beard maintenance is crucial if you’re committed to having one. It can be the difference between having something women can’t wait to run their fingers through and looking like a deranged hillbilly.
Grabbing a pair of boxers out of my drawer, I noticed something shiny hanging from the corner of my mirror. I squeezed my eyes shut and hoped it was a combination of the beer I drank in the shower mixed with my hangover messing with my head. Staring at the floor while I pulled my boxers on, I counted to three then looked back at my mirror. Sure enough, hanging right across the picture, taped to my mirror, was the ring and chain I gave Joie. Lifting it off of the mirror I gathered it in my hand, picked up my cell and walked to my bed.
My call went straight to voicemail. Shaking my head, I thought, she practically blinds me, her baby-daddy almost knocks me out and to her the next logical thing is to return my gift and not to answer my calls? That’s straight up bullshit if you ask me. It’s not like my feelings were hurt, I just found it rude of her to return a gift that she supposedly loved. I sat on my bed staring at the ring in the palm of my hand for a while before throwing it across the room. To hell with it. To hell with yesterday and today. I called her two more times, sent a text and still there was no response. I feel sick.
Chapter Nine
Mom and Aunt Penny appeared surprised to see me when I walked into Legacy Ink.
“I thought you were off today,” my aunt stated before mom informed, “You don’t have any appointments.”
Stopping at the counter I pulled my sunglasses off and scowled at them, wondering what was going on. A month ago mom read me the riot act for taking off when I didn’t have clients scheduled. Now, she was staring at me like I didn’t belong in the shop.
“I’ve got that cuff to finish and I’ll take walk-ins if we have any.”
They looked at each other like I’d just stumbled in and caught them doing something wrong.
“Am I missing something?” I asked just as Joie walked in from the back.
Air swelled in my chest the second I laid eyes on her. That’s weird, must be some side effect from Roe knocking the wind out of me the other day.
Cute as a damn button, in her scarf with tiny pink hearts all over it, she stopped and stared at me. I could tell she was looking at the blood in my right eye before glancing off to the side.
Yea, that’s from you little girl.
Ignoring my mom when she ordered, “Palmer, go to the office,” I stood there watching Joie make her way behind the counter.
I was about to say something to her when mom popped up right in front of me.
“Now, Palmer,” mom insisted, pointing her whole arm towards the back of the shop.
Heading to the office I glanced back at Joie a few times as she sat there talking to my aunt like I wasn’t even there.
Mom closed the door, saying, “I was going to tell you tonight.”
“Tell me what?” I asked, not really caring what she was talking about because my mind was on Joie.
“Penny and I talked about it and we decided to hire Joie.”
Was I supposed to have a problem with that?
Anxious to get out of there and talk to her, I replied, “Cool, is that it?”
“No it’s not, Palmer. While she’s here you need to stay away from her.”
Mom had every bit of my attention now as I questioned, “You put her in the middle of the shop and you expect me to stay away from her? What, like I stay in my corner kinda thing?”
“Yes.”
“That’s such bullsh…” I caught myself saying before I stopped and complained, “That’s messed up, mom. Roe knocks her up, she hides it from everyone and I’m the bad guy?”
With a heavy sigh, she replied, “No one is saying that. All I’m saying is, you need to let her work things out on her own.”
“And she can’t do that if I walk in and tell her good morning?”
“You can be kind of bossy and overbearing. She’s having a hard enough time dealing with everything without you making things worse.”
Alright, that’s just plain insulting.
“Fine,” I blurted, swinging the door open and walking out of the office.
The shop had been slow all day with the exception of Aunt Penny’s two appointments and one guy who came in trying to sell us window cleaner. After Aunt Penny left for a doctor’s appointment, mom decided it was a good time to take lunch.
“I’ll be right back,” she informed, making it a point to stare at me.
“Bring me back somethin’.” I hollered before she made it out the door.
Turning around, she questioned, “Seriously, you can’t get your own lunch?”
“But then I’d have to leave my side of the shop,” I reminded, flashing a smile at her.
I caught Joie looking over at me as mom replied, “Fine, what do you want?”
“A burger, fries and a chocolate malt.”
Mom nodded before offering, “Joie, do you want anything?”
“No thanks, I brought my own.”
“I’ll be right back,” she repeated, turning back towards the door.
The bell at the top of the door rang as it closed. Stretching my arms over my head, I yawned. I leaned back in my chair and kicked my legs out in front of me. If I was going to be stuck in my corner I figured I might as well take a nap until my mom got back with lunch.
I was almost out when my cell vibrated against my sketch table. Rubbing my eyes, I sat up and looked at my phone. It was a text from Monster Matt. I don’t even remember why we started calling him that. He wanted to know if I was up to play later tonight. It only took me a second to decide that’s what I needed after this past weekend.
Looking over at Joie, I a
sked, “Hey, what time is my first appointment tomorrow?”
She didn’t look up or acknowledge me.
I leaned farther out of my work area and blurted, “Joie!”
When she just sat there continuing to eat her salad, I got up and walked to the counter.
“This is part of your job, ya know,” I fussed, thinking she was being childish.
Without looking up, she sat her lunch to the side, grabbed the appointment book, flipped it around and pushed it towards me.
Oh, so that’s how it’s gonna be? Okay, we can play this however you want.
“Excuse me, Jolene, I’m not tryin’ to bother you. I just need to know somethin’.”
It wasn’t like I was trying to get a rise out of her. I just happened to know how much she hated her first name and I was trying to get her attention.
“Do I need to find a new drummer or what?”
Snapping her head up to look at me, she appeared shocked. “Are you firing me?”
There we go.
“If I was firing you, why would I ask?”
Her face settled into a displeased expression as she griped, “Okay, why do you ask?”
“Monster said he has a line on a gig tonight about an hour from here. I wasn’t sure you’d be able to. You know with your…issue.
“What issue?”
“You know, your…condition.”
She stared at me for a moment before exploding into unprovoked anger.
“I’m pregnant, not disabled and it’s not an issue or a condition, it’s a baby, you asshole!”
I didn’t even mean it like that. If she’s going to go hormonal over every little thing I say, I think I will stay in my corner from now on.
“So…you’re in?”
“Have Monster text me the info and I’ll be there,” she stated before picking up her salad.
I watched her calmly sit there and eat, like she didn’t just try to bite my head off, before I walked back to my area.
My band was on point, the crowd was perfect and we rocked the hell out of them. After our final set we took a break to cool off before packing up the van. Guests passed me saying how much they enjoyed the show as I stood off to the side. Holding a beer that I wasn’t planning on drinking, I took notice of a brunette in a short skirt eyeing me from a few feet away.
I flashed a smile at her as she started walking towards me. She was a petite thing, couldn’t have been more than five-two. Wearing dangerously high heels and a naughty look in her brown eyes, she was just my type.
“I’m Becca,” she introduced, pressing herself up against me.
“Palmer.”
She slid a hand up my chest, saying, “I thought you were amazing on stage.”
Of course you did and now you’re gonna tell me my tattoos are hot and you dig the beard.
Running her other hand up my arm she bit her bottom lip. “I’ve always had a thing for musicians’ with tattoos.”
What’d I tell you, this ain’t my first go-round. Now wait for it…
“And your beard is so sexy.”
Yea, yea, bla bla bla… Get to the good part.
“So a… you want to give me a ride home? I can show you how impressive I am on stage,” she offered.
A smile instantly spread across my face.
“I’ve got a practice pole in my bedroom.”
Bedroom stripper pole? Hell. Yes.
“Let me get with my band and get our equipment packed up, then we’ll be good to go.”
Nodding, she slowly pulled away. “I’m going to go tell my friends that I found a ride home. I’ll meet you back here.”
“Sure thing, sweetheart.”
What? Oh, I know. I’m an asshole. Hey, Joie’s not into me. I’ve still got the blood in my eye to prove it.
Monster and Doup were already loading up my van when I made it back to them. Joie kept trying to help but every time she went to pick something up I took it away from her. See, I’m a good guy. As soon as everything was packed up, I pulled three envelopes out of my back pocket. I handed each of them an envelope with their money from the night’s gig and headed to meet up with my entertainment for the evening.
As soon as I heard Doup say, “You still comin’ Joie?” I turned right back around.
“You’re riding home with them?” Instantly pissed off, I questioned, “Why didn’t you ask me?”
Without expression, she replied, “You looked busy.”
Gritting my back teeth together, I took a moment before questioning, “Doup, how many beers have you had?”
He ran his hand through his shaggy brown hair, looked down at the beer in his hand and then shrugged, “Two…or six…”
Throwing my hands in the air, I glared at Joie.
“I’m driving his car to my house. He’ll have time to sober up enough to drive Monster home by the time we get there.”
Jingling Doup’s keys at me, she turned and headed to his car.
When I met up with what’s her face, I felt tense and irritated.
“Ready?” she asked pulling her way up my t-shirt.
Before I could answer, her lips were moving against mine. She was a good kisser. I’d bet she was good at everything. She pulled away with a wicked grin and I couldn’t wait to get out of there.
Grabbing the inside of her elbow I practically drug her to my van, saying, “Let’s go.”
I swung the passenger door open and lifted her in.
When I got in on the driver’s seat, she giggled, “Wow, you’re so enthusiastic.”
“What? Oh, yea. Hey, where do you live?”
“Just two blocks from here, baby,” she replied as I turned the key in the ignition.
Slamming the van into gear, I punched the gas with only one thing on my mind.
I stopped the van in front of her townhouse and put it in park. Hopping out, I jogged around to the passenger side. Rushing her up the walkway, I waited for her to open the door and let us in.
The second we stepped inside, I took a quick look around and shared, “Okay, looks like you’re all good here.”
“You’re leaving?” she whined as I turned to walk out the door.
I didn’t look back at her as I shouted, “I think I’m coming down with something,” and sprinted back to my van.
I wasn’t lying either. As soon as she kissed me I had an unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach. I felt sick.
It was a miracle I didn’t get pulled over. The hour and ten-minute drive back to town only took me thirty-seven minutes, minus the time it took me to drop off what’s her name. When I reached Joie’s street, I parked a few houses down. It wasn’t like my bandmates were bad guys. I just didn’t trust them with Joie. They wouldn’t know to walk her in if her dad wasn’t home and take a look around for murderers who could have broken in when no one was home. She never checks the bushes by her front door. A rapist could be hiding in there. What was I thinking letting Joie go with Monster and Doup?
I breathed a sigh of relief when Monster’s 1968 Ford Fairlane finally pulled up in her driveway. Of course, just as I suspected, they didn’t even wait for her to get to the door before driving off. I quietly got out of my van and made my way close enough to make sure she got in safely. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do next but luckily her dad met her at the door, so I got back in my van and headed home.
Two hours after I made it home, I waited for her to text me. She always texted me goodnight. Not anymore though, I guess. She didn’t last night or the night before. It didn’t matter. It’s not like I needed her to text me. I could relax and go to sleep now. She made it home safely and that’s what was really weighing on my mind.
There’s that sick feeling, again. I’m starting to think something’s really wrong with me.
Chapter Ten
The kitchen was quiet as I sat at the table poking at my French toast with a piece of bacon. Still feeling sick, I looked up: Head Injury Symptoms and When To Seek Treatment For Them, on my cell. After ruli
ng out any serious damage from my fight with Roe, I couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me. It was hard to explain. I wasn’t nauseous but I couldn’t eat. It reminded me of the time I came down with something when my parents’ went out of town and I stayed a week with my aunt and uncle.
Dad walked in and made himself a cup of coffee before sitting down at the table with me.
“You didn’t eat your breakfast,” he commented before blowing in his cup and taking a sip.
I shrugged off his observation and pushed my plate out from in front of me.
Glancing up at the clock above the kitchen sink, he asked, “Aren’t you late for work?”
“No, my first appointment isn’t ‘til two.”
He nodded then took another sip of his coffee. “You feelin’ okay?”
I started to get up from the table but figured, it never hurts to ask.
“Do you remember that time I was about six or seven?” Before I could finish, he laughed, “Of course. I remember when you were eight and nine too.”
Funny. This is serious or at least it could be.
“Anyways, it was when you and mom went out of town for a week and I stayed with Aunt Penny.”
Nodding his head with a smile, he replied, “I sure do, we almost had to come back early because you were so homesick.”
“I wasn’t homesick,” I insisted before adding, “Aunt Penny gave me medicine every night before bed and by the time y’all got back I was better.”
Dad started laughing so hard he almost spilled his coffee.
“What?”
“Son, I hate to break this to you but Penny gave you party mints.”
“Nah, that doesn’t sound right. They were these nasty little squares that melted in my mouth and…”
“Yea, they’re called party mints,” he laughed. “You got ‘better’ because we came home. There was nothing wrong with you. You just missed us.”
Okay, I’m going to overlook the fact that the sweetest woman I know placebo-ed me. What if something had really been wrong with me? I could have died! And what would she have told people? I gave him party mints…
“It doesn’t make sense,” I mumbled without meaning to say it out loud.
