Authors: Sara Mack
“Eeeeeep!”
Juliana throws her arms around my neck. “You’re here!”
I stare
at my brother over his girlfriend’s shoulder. I can’t return her hug. I have a
suitcase in each hand, a bag over my arm, my guitar strapped to my back, and
eyelids that weigh more than bricks.
“I’m
here,” I choke out.
Pete
grins. “Don’t strangle her, Jules.”
Juliana
steps back and hangs on to my arms. “We’re going to have so much fun!” she
gushes. “I made us a pedicure appointment, I added you as my guest at the gym,
there’s a party tonight at Latson’s –”
“Whoa,” I
say. “It’s the butt crack of dawn. How did you do all that?”
“Online,
silly.”
Oh. Of
course. Silly me.
“I think
Jen needs some sleep,” my brother says as he reaches for one of my suitcases. “Is
this everything or is there more in the car?”
“No, this
is it.”
I was
able to pack most of my clothes into two large suitcases since everything in
the closet stayed dry. I tried to bring as much as possible because my landlord
has no clue when cleanup will begin. When I talked to him before I left, he
said he would call when he had any information. He also reminded me to contact
my insurance company to make a claim for my belongings. I hope my parents will
help, since my furniture is ruined and I left town before meeting an adjuster.
“Come see
your room,” Juliana says and takes my other bag. “I tried to spruce it up a
little, but we may have to go shopping.”
I look at
my brother, confused.
“She’s
been up all night,” he says.
Juliana
elbows him. “You can’t invite her to stay with you and expect her to live in a
pig sty.”
“Thanks,”
I say. I can only imagine what he had piled in there.
I follow
them through the living room and down the hallway. The apartment is decorated
differently than I remember. It looks more modern. A few pieces of abstract art
hang on the walls and the furniture is plush and overstuffed. The entertainment
center looks like it was forged from steel. I assume the changes are a
reflection of Juliana’s taste more than my brother’s. I’ve never known him to
decorate with anything other than old road signs and bean bag chairs.
“If the
closet isn’t big enough we can get a dresser,” Juliana says as we enter my new
space.
“I’m sure
it will be fine.”
“Well …”
She walks around the bed and opens the closet door. “I had to put Pete’s stuff
somewhere.”
Half the
closet is packed full. From where I stand I can see multiple shoe boxes, stacks
of papers, and a couple of large plastic totes.
“Some of
it is yours,” my brother grumbles as he sets my suitcase on the bed. “All that
stuff from your yoga phase for example.”
Juliana
makes a face. “Okay. So, there’s like, two things in there that are mine.”
I smile. Their
bickering is cute. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it work.” I drop my tote bag at my
feet, then pull my guitar strap over my head and set the instrument against the
wall.
Pete
looks at my bag. “What’s in there?”
“Just
bathroom stuff and my purse.”
“The
bathroom!” Juliana exclaims. She drops my suitcase and sprints toward the door.
“I’ll clean out a drawer for you.”
My
surprised eyes follow her as she leaves the room. “She’s excited,” I say as I
sit on the edge of the bed.
“Yeah, well.”
My brother smiles and joins me. “Her best friend moved away about a month ago. She’s
happy you’re here.”
I nod.
“So.”
Pete clasps his hands between his knees. “How are you?”
“Tired,”
I admit and roll my neck.
“Have you
processed everything that’s happened?”
“Not
really.” Instead of thinking during my drive, I turned up the music and turned
off my brain.
“If you
want me to kill him, I will.”
My brow
jumps. “You mean my cheating ex-boyfriend?”
“Yes.”
I have no
doubt my brother could – and would – toss Derek. It’s what he does for a living.
Pete cracks his knuckles for emphasis, and I notice his arm muscles flex
against his shirt sleeve. “Have you gotten bigger?”
“A little.”
He shrugs. “Answer my question.”
“You’re
going to crush Juliana!” I playfully shove him. She’s so petite next to his
huge, six-foot frame. “I don’t know why she puts up with you.”
He scowls.
“What’s wrong with being healthy?”
“There’s
a difference between being healthy and being Schwarzenegger.”
Juliana
appears in the doorway holding a hair dryer. “I take it you don’t like big
guys?”
To be
honest, they intimidate me. “Obviously you do.”
She
grins.
“I prefer
my men to be more defined,” I say. “Not bulky.”
“Good to
know.” Juliana wiggles her eyebrows before wrapping the dryer cord around the
handle.
“Stop.” My
brother glares at his woman. “My sister is here to relax, not date.”
“Whatever.”
Juliana rolls her eyes.
I laugh,
but silently agree with Pete.
“Now,
back to my question.” He crosses his arms and looks at me. “Do you want me to
kill him?”
I sigh. “Yes.”
His face
lights up.
“But,
no.”
His
shoulders sag.
Scooting
over, I wrap my arms around his waist and squeeze. “Thank you for wanting to, though.”
“Did you
at least bitch him out?” he asks, hopeful.
“Of course!
You know who you’re talking to, right?”
My
brother pats my knee.
Juliana
disappears from the doorway only to reappear seconds later. “The second drawer
in the bathroom is yours.”
“Great.” I
reach for my tote bag to find my toothbrush. “I’m ready for bed.”
Pete
stands. “We’ll leave you alone for now. Sleep tight, Little J.”
“Ugh,” I
groan at my nickname. “Don’t call me that.”
He
snickers.
“I’ll be
at work most of the day, but I’ll be back in time to get ready for Latson’s,”
Juliana says. “Did you bring any party clothes?”
“I’m sure
I have something.” I glance at my suitcases. “What kind of place is it? A club?”
“It’s an
apartment upstairs.”
I look at
the ceiling. “Really?”
“Latson’s
a buddy of mine,” Pete says. “We work together.”
“Why is
he having a party?”
“For the
hell of it.”
Good
reason. “Well, if anyone needs to party, it’s this girl.” I point to myself. “Sounds
like fun.”
Juliana
bounces on her toes. “Did I tell you how glad I am you’re here?”
“I think
more than once,” Pete says and starts to push her out the door. “See you when
the sun shines, Little J.”
“Stop
it!” I huff.
He laughs
as they disappear down the hallway.
~~~~
“Baby
girl. You gave me a heart attack.”
“I’m
sorry.” I rub my eyes. “Yesterday was a mess.”
It’s
eleven a.m. Chicago time which means it’s noon back home. My cell was screaming
from the nightstand before I blindly answered and was greeted by my frantic
father.
“I saw
the fire on the news. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Like I
said, I wasn’t there.”
He pauses.
“How’s your place?”
“Ruined. Everything
is soaked from the sprinkler system.”
“Did you
call your insurance agent?”
“Not
yet.”
I stretch
my free arm over my head and my legs in the opposite direction. My dad starts
to ramble about buying new furniture, and I turn my attention toward the sunlight
streaming through the bedroom window. I wonder how warm it will be today.
“Jen?”
“What?”
“Are you
listening to me?”
No. “Yes.”
“What did
I just say?”
“Umm.” I
bite my thumbnail.
He sighs.
“So what made you decide to drive to Pete’s?”
“He
called at the right time and got on my case about not visiting.”
“Ah,” he
says. Through the phone, I hear a door close and assume he’s stepped outside. “I’m
surprised you went. Did work give you some time off because of the fire?”
I close
my eyes. “No. Jay’s is closing, Dad. I’m out of a job.”
“What?”
“My boss
needs to spend time with her sick husband. She sold the restaurant.”
He’s
quiet for a moment. “What are you going to do?”
“I have
no idea.” I roll over on my side. “I guess it’s time to figure shit out.”
“Jennifer
Marie!”
“What?”
He chuckles.
“You definitely have some shit to figure out.”
“Right?” I
pick at some fuzz on the comforter.
“Honey,
listen,” his voice softens. “You deserve a break. You’ve put in hundreds of hours
at Jay’s and you’re always on your feet. You’re one of the hardest working
people I know. Take some time to regroup and focus on you.”
“I feel
like I should be job hunting.”
“Are you
going to go bankrupt in the next few weeks?”
“Probably
not.”
“Then,
there you go. What do the kids say nowadays? You need to ‘do you’.”
I laugh. My
dad is a high school English instructor and he tries to stay up on current
slang.
My mom
calls for my dad in the background. “Hold on,” he says. His voice is muffled as
he tells her I’m fine and with Pete. He returns to our conversation. “All
right, baby girl. Your mom and I need to run errands. Promise me you’ll keep us
in the loop and tell us when you’re headed home.”
“I will. I
may need your help with the insurance claim anyway.”
“Okay. Try
to relax and have fun. I’ll talk to you soon.”
We say I
love you and goodbye, and I toss my phone aside. I flop back against the pillow.
Maybe my dad is right. The time has come to ‘do me’. It seems like I’ve been on
the same path forever, caught in an endless cycle, unable to switch direction. I
tend bar and fail at relationships. That’s my life.
Pushing
my hair off my forehead, I look around the bedroom, my eyes landing on my
guitar. I can definitely spend more time working on my music while I’m here. That
qualifies as ‘doing me’. Glancing around again, I notice the sunlight a second
time and make a mental note to get more vitamin D, too. Then, I snuggle into
the blankets and figure a few naps might be in order. Slowly, a smile creeps
across my face.
I can do
whatever the hell I want.
My mind begins
to swirl with possibilities. I can’t remember when I’ve had this much free time.
I can do whatever I feel like without worrying about a guy or a schedule. Despite
all that has happened, it feels good. So good, I think I’ll make it my rule.
My
cardinal rule.
Starting today,
Jen will only do what makes her happy.
Deciding
coffee will bring me joy, I throw back the covers. Yawning, I make my way to
the kitchen to peruse the countertop. I find a Keurig instead of a traditional
coffee pot.
Score
, I think as I open the drawer beneath it and find the
K-Cups. After I pop a Green Mountain Vanilla Crème into the machine, I search
for a mug and come across a white board hanging on the refrigerator. There’s a
note from Pete:
If you
want to eat, we need food. At the store.
Knowing
my brother, he’ll bring back nothing but vegetables and protein. Coupled with
Juliana’s gym comment, I realize staying here won’t hurt my waistline.
When my
coffee is done, I head outside to enjoy it. Sitting in one of the two chairs on
my brother’s small balcony, I take in the sights and sounds of the city below. Pete
lives on the eastern edge of Lincoln Park, which isn’t too far from Lake
Michigan. It’s the complete opposite of home, which is why he loves it. We grew
up on a dead-end, dirt road with very few neighbors. Here, there are people
everywhere. Most walk, some ride bikes. It looks like they are all wearing ear
buds because I can see the cords. Car horns and a siren sound in the distance,
and I mentally add exploring to my list of happy things to do with my free time.
I like this atmosphere. It feels charged, but in a good way. Like everyone has
somewhere important to go and something important to do.
I’d like
to be one of those people.
After my
coffee disappears, I head to the shower. I take my time soaping and shaving, and
when the water runs cold, I pull back the curtain to grab a towel. Without the
water in my ears I hear a weird thrumming noise. Confused, I make sure the
faucet is off and I didn’t screw something up. I mean, I only turned a knob,
but the sound appears to be coming through the wall. Satisfied it’s not the pipes,
I wrap a towel around myself and crack the bathroom door.