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Cindy had said very little during my purging, except to show appropriate reactive facial expressions and gasp a few times in disbelief for what is more-than-likely my skewed version of everything. Confidence rests on my shoulders as I hug Cindy, thanking her for listening. I take “after” pictures of her office for the portfolio and text Kate that I am ready to go home. I vow to meet the girls at Buffalo’s later for karaoke, regardless of what Jason has planned. There is no need to discuss our relationship, or lack there of,any further.
In fact, when I get home, my plan is to tell Jason to go home to Denver and never darken my door step again. My mind is made up. I feel great about this decision.
Kate and I ride in silence. My thoughts are on my script when I walk into my house, and Kate, as usual, has her mind on her housing problem. I thank her and climb my stairs.
“Jason,” I call out in a panting and wheezing as I cross my threshold. Silence greets me.
“Jason!” I walk through the house, looking for him. His Audi A3 is still in my driveway, I know he’s here somewhere.Smoke wafts past the sliding glass door exiting from the kitchen. The one where I had stood to yell at Blaze for mowing at five o’clock in the morning. Was my yard on fire? I run to the door and sling it open, ready to grab the hose and start drowning the fire.
Jason turns from the grill Frank had cooked steaks on with a shit-eating grin on his face. Smoke billows from under the lid. Was he burning paper? “Hi, Sweet Cakes. I found steaks in your freezer and thought I’d make us a romantic supper.”
My jaw drops to the floor. What the—
Chapter Four?
Anger still courses through my veins causing my hands to tremble as I text Kate. “Need a lift to Buffalo Bodega, Plz, and would LOVE 4 you to come 2. The girls and I will be singing karaoke!” I hope that entices Kate to join us. I need to do something good for someone to douse the flames of rage in my head.
“Be right there & I’ll think about it.” She texts back.
Gosh, I hope she will come. I need this. My heart feels just as charred as the steaks that Jason slammed into the trashcan in my kitchen after I unloaded on him. He is in the spare bedroom now, probably sulking.
I don’t care! He needs to understand, he had his chance. We are finished. I told him to load up and leave at daylight. How could he be so shocked that I would not want him back after he broke my heart, financially ruined me, and made me homeless. Thank God I had the deed to this house or I would have had to live out of my car until I found a place.
I honestly have no idea what I look like right now. What I wore while Cindy and I finished her declutter is covered indust and paper fuzz and is now in my laundry pile. I ran a comb through my hair and put on clean jean leggings and a floral print shirt. Normally, I like these two pieces of clothing together, surely it looks okay. It’s not like I’m out to impress anybody, like Blaze. Surely he’s not going to show up for karaoke like he and Frank did that first time?
As far as I know, he’s still working that all-night vigilante shift, I assume, since I see him leave at night and come back in the morning. For a second, I wonder how close he’s coming on discovering what I already know about the underground poker games. A sense of forebode swamps my gut. Should I need another big win, I’ll have to be more careful then usual to get in on the game. The last thing I want is to have Detective Blaze raid the place while I’m there. I wonder, not for the first time, if I should alert Big Mike that I know who is keeping an eye on his midnight activities? Would I be able to get in on a game if Mike knew the detective leading the surveillance is my neighbor?
I don’t even look in the mirror at my makeup. The last thing I want is to see a reflection of my face. I know what I look like after a fight with Jason, it’s not pretty. I don’t need to be reminded. I am so angry at the fool, I can barely think straight. The main reason I want to go out with my girlfriends and sing karaoke is because if I stay here, I’m afraid I will gleefully commit murder.
Kate toots her horn and I grab my backpack purse. Normally, I would holler out to let Jason know I was leaving, but that habit is unnecessary since I no longer live with him. Kate knows I can’t run down these stairs and waits patiently in my drive. I reach her passenger back door and crawl in heaving for air like I ran a mile to get here.
“I hope… you’re… gonna… come with… us.” I pant as I hand her some money. She has dyed her bangs pink. Interesting. The rest of her hair has grown into a long mullet.
She smiles oddly while she does whatever it is she does on her phone to record receipt of funds and sits back in position to back out of my drive. “I might. Depends on if I have another client.”
I look at the back of her black and white plat-braided head. “Really?”
Her eyes cut to the rearview mirror where most of our eye contact happens. “Sure.” She shrugs.
“So, do you have another client waiting for a ride?”
“No.”
“Then come sing karaoke with us, pleeeeease!” I literally beg her.
“Okay.” She smiles. “But if somebody calls for a ride, I’ll have to leave.”
“We’ll ask Mr. DJ to let you go before all of us.”
She nods. “That sounds okay.”
“Good.” I sit back and relax… some. Jason’s ridiculous claim to love me and want me back swirls in my head like a dust devil in a plowed field. It just won’t stop skipping and hopping among my thoughts. Why couldn’t he have realized this several months ago when I was begging him to be the man I thought he was. The man I wanted to live with the rest of my life, to have babies with… why is he here now?
I sit up straighter in Kate’s backseat. “Whyishe here now?”
Squinting my eyes as if it will help me to see what I don’t understand, I hunker down in the backseat mulling over what Jason might really be after. It makes much more sense that he’s after something other than me back in his life. But what is it?
We parallel park along the sidewalk. Kate taps a credit card against the parking meter and we walk down to the Buffalo Bodega. The girls are already there and scream when I walk in. I turn to see Kate’s reaction and am not disappointed. She issmiling for the first time in a week. She and I go straight to Mr. DJ and sign up for what we want to sing. I explain that Kate may have another engagement and needs to be bumped ahead of my girlfriends. He bobs his head to the current rock and roll song about a dark desert highway. “K” he smacks his gum and makes a notation on his clipboard. Kate and I join the girls at the table. As I sit down I feel the weight of my worry flake off me like fish scales. These girls are the best cure for a troubled soul.
