Blast From The Past 3 (4 page)

Julie, J.R., and I spent another twenty minutes or so viewing things on our separate devices, and then we went on to discuss things more, speculate, and share our opinions. We couldn’t quite figure out where to go from there—or, at least,
they
couldn’t, as I already knew where
I
was gonna go—so, we decided to end our group brainstorming at that impasse, recollect ourselves, and reconvene at a later time.

But when it came time for us all to go our separate ways, no one seemed to be going anywhere. Obviously, since we were in
my
apartment, I wasn’t going anywhere—and, from the looks of things, neither were J.R. or Julie. They both just sat there, each waiting for the other to leave.

The situation was a little awkward for me—kinda like a
Sophie’s Choice
kind of thing, even if the choice I had to make wasn’t as drastic. Who should go, and who should stay with me? I had good reasons to answer that question either way.

Part of me wanted to dismiss J.R. so that Julie and I could have some time for girl talk. I wanted to tell her about things with J.R. and get her opinion on what it all meant. But another part of me wanted to dismiss Julie, so that I could fall into his arms again, take him back to my bed, and finish what we’d started before Julie got there.

I couldn’t tell if either J.R. or Julie could sense the position they’d put me in, and I felt as if they were challenging and battling each other, seeing who’d cave first, inadvertently surrendering and admitting the other’s connection to me was stronger. This stalemate was just as bad, if not worse, than the one we’d just reached in our investigation—so I decided to make my choice, and I chose the option that poor Sophie had never been given. I chose to sacrifice my own interests for both of their sakes.

“I’m still not feeling very well and am really tired,” I told the both of them. “Being drugged really messed with my system, I guess… I just want to lie down and take a nap.”

J.R. and Julie both looked at me as if they were disappointed, and I’m sure they both were—but they each were understanding, which made me hate how much I was lying to them both, both as far as this particular lie, and others, were concerned.

J.R. and Julie stood up at approximately the same time. I stood up, too, and walked with them to the door, where I hugged them each, in turn, and told them I’d talk to them later.

“What about your phone?” J.R. asked. “Do you think it’s still safe to call it?”

“No,” I said. “Thanks for reminding me.”

I quickly explained to Julie how I thought my phone could have been compromised and made arrangements to call her later, from a new phone. I had her give J.R. her number, and had him agree to call her the next day to get my new number. Just to keep up appearances, I also instructed Julie to keep texting my existing line—that way, if Tommy had tapped it, there’d be no cause for suspicion (think about how strange it’d look if Julie was frequently texting me, then stopped completely!). Julie agreed with me, though she did bitch a bit about the added burden of texting
two
phones.

Once we were done with all that rigmarole, the two of them finally left, and I did go and lie down, like I’d said I was going to do, even though I wasn’t actually tired or feeling ill. Perhaps I was trying to bring a grain of truth to my lie, or perhaps I was just trying to settle my nerves a bit. Whatever the case, I lay there and thought more about the plan I’d come up with. It wasn’t going to be easy to orchestrate and execute, but I knew I had to do it anyway, and I knew I had to do it without J.R. or Julie.

I was the one trying to clear
my
name, and even though that inevitably involved J.R., he, like Julie, didn’t need to get as deeply involved in the process as I did. J.R. had the resources to investigate what was going on as far as destruction to his business, but he didn’t use them for
my
sake, so that we could crack the cover up and save
me
, not just his company.

Despite my racing mind, I somehow managed to drift off to sleep. I’m sure the drugs really
had
messed with my system, and my system very easily shut down. I slept a dead sleep for about three hours, and only awoke when I heard a firetruck traveling the street on the other side of my bedroom window.

No, my house was
not
on fire, and it wasn’t
my
kitten who was trapped in a tree. The firetruck was headed somewhere else, to a destination unbeknownst to me, and its sounds along the way woke me.

My first impulse upon waking was a typical one. I wanted to run and check my phone for messages… And, with that, I was reminded of my concerns over my phone and my decision to get another one.

I looked at the clock, and it was nearly 7 p.m., which gave me an ample amount of time to freshen up and hit one of the few no-contract cell phone providers that speckled E Carson Street in the South Side.

I went and got my phone (which I’ll call phone-1) from my desk, booted it, and took it into the bathroom with me. As I was doing my business and brushing my hair, phone-1 came to life and alerted me that I had received four messages. Two were from Julie, and both were timestamped after our earlier meeting, though neither of them said anything too revealing or incriminating.
Good job, Julie!
I thought to myself.

The other two messages were from Tommy.

Just want to say hi and make sure everything was OK,
the first read.
Hope you’re feeling better.

Text me as soon as you can
, the second read.
I’m worried about you, after how you left this morning.

I stopped paying attention to myself, and paid attention to my phone instead.
Sorry about leaving so suddenly this morning
, I swiped.
I just woke up and am feeling much better. Probably gonna go back to bed soon again though. Will text you tomorrow. Maybe we can meet for dinner or something.

With that message, I’d laid the first brick in the foundation of my plan, and I just needed to wait for the other pieces to fall into place.

“Look,” I said, raising my voice while trying to maintain a modicum of decorum, “I really don’t care about getting the best data plan… All I need this phone for is phone calls, text messages, and occasional internet usage. I don’t plan on streaming videos, playing games, or checking my email. So just give me the $40/month plan. You’ve done your job and tried to convince me to spend more.”

I’d just made a similar argument regarding the low-priced cell phone I’d selected, and the clerk looked at me as if I were the cheapest person on this planet. But, really, I meant what I said. This cell phone (which I’ll call phone-2) was meant merely to be a “safe” line to communicate with Julie and J.R., not meant to replace my old one or put to what the clerk would consider a “regular” use. Perhaps it would have worked better to tell him I was purchasing the phone and plan for a child; maybe then he’d have been more understanding—either that, or he’d have tried to sell me on some added parental controls type of package.

In any event, I had phone-2 up and ready to go within half an hour after leaving the store, and, once I was back at my place, my first call was to Julie. I wanted her to have my new number as soon as possible, and for her to have it ready for J.R. when he called her. Again, I wished that I had had more alone time with each of them earlier, but there weren’t enough hours in the day—at least not in
this
one—to accommodate all of my interests.

Julie sounded pretty relaxed when I called her. She was definitely happy to hear from me, but she didn’t come at me like a wild dog for information, like I thought she would. She was a reporter, after all, and she was generally nosy, so I was expecting her to have a million questions for me about J.R. and Tommy—and, truth be told, I was kinda looking forward to talking with her about those things.

But, instead of being all up in my grill, Julie was just mildly inquisitive. With all that was going on in my life, I really didn’t know what to think of it, and I really didn’t want to beat around the bush. Who needs to waste time, when there’s so much that can happen any minute?

“Is everything okay?” I asked Julie. “You seem kinda disinterested. What’s going on? Are you mad at me or something?”

After a brief pause, Julie replied. “Well, yeah, I am,” she said, making her point quickly. “Ever since J.R. joined up with us, things have been different.
You
have been different. You’ve been keeping secrets from me and not telling me the full story. And this shit with Tommy? Thanks for letting
me
be the last one to hear about it… Really, Trish, you want me to be excited to talk to you? I’m more concerned about what you’re
not
telling me, not what you are.”

Apparently Julie didn’t feel like beating around the bush either! I figured she was a little upset with me, but didn’t know it extended so far. I had no idea how badly I’d hurt her—and it was hurt, more than anger, that I’d heard in her voice.

“Jeeze, Julie,” I answered. “I’m really sorry…but, trust me, it’s not that I wanted to keep you in the dark or anything. It’s just that everything happened so fast with both J.R. and Tommy, and it was hard for me to keep up with it all, let alone update you on it… And as far as the shit with Tommy goes, as you can see, it’s pretty ugly and dangerous. I didn’t tell you—or J.R.—about it earlier, to protect you and to try and keep you from getting any deeper into this mess that you already are.”

“I’m a big girl, Trish,” Julie shot back. “When I agreed to help you with all of this, I knew that there were some risks involved, and I accepted those… And, in exchange for all of that, for putting
myself
at risk, all I expected in return was one thing—honesty. I expected you to keep me in the loop, and, really, I don’t feel like you have.”

Great
, I thought to myself.
On top of everything else, you’ve gone and pissed off your best friend!

“Julie,” I said, with resignation in my voice. “I’m
so
sorry, and all I can ask is that you
please
forgive me. Anything you wanna know, I’ll tell you. Ask me whatever you want, or sit back, and let me start from the beginning. I never meant to hurt you or piss you off.”

“Listen,” Julie said, with resignation in her voice also. “I forgive you, and you don’t need to fill me in on everything that’s already happened...but don’t let it happen again. From this point forward, I want the truth, the whole truth, or, so help me God, Trish Williams, I’m done with you and all your nonsense forever.”

“Fair enough,” I said firmly, without waiver. “From here on out… You have my word.”

“So,” Julie went on, shifting the tone of her voice again. “Tell me… What’s the deal with you and J.R.?”

I was relieved that she wanted to change topics. The new one was something I wanted to discuss, and the old one reminded me of the fact that I was, yet again, lying to my friend.

I was almost through telling Julie the NC-17 rating of my XXX encounter with J.R., I heard phone-1 vibrating on my desk. I went over and saw a message—from Tommy, replying to the earlier one I’d sent him.

Dinner sounds good
, it read.
Hope you feel better, tty tomorrow. :)

Another piece of the puzzle had just fallen into place, and it became hard for me to concentrate on talking to Julie. She was able to tell that I was distracted—I wasn’t doing a good job of covering it up—and, when she asked me what was wrong, I decided to tell her the truth, but not the whole truth.

“I got a message from Tommy on my other phone, telling me that he hopes feel better, ‘cause of how I stormed out of his apartment this morning,” I said, conveniently leaving out the part about dinner tomorrow night.

“That creep,” Julie responded. “You aren’t still going to talk to him are you?”

“I have to,” I answered. “I mean, it’d be pretty damn suspicious if I just ignored him.”

“Yeah,” Julie replied. “You’re right, but be careful… Keep it all talk—and keep it simple.”

“I will,” I said.

Oh what a tangled web we weave…

Hope you’re feeling better today,
Tommy’s text read.
And hope you’re still up for dinner later. I am! :) HMB with details
.

Tommy wasted no time in messaging me the next day. His text was the first thing I saw when I woke up in the morning. I was amazed, by the way, by the fact that I’d slept in until around 8 a.m. that day, and I feared not having a job was starting to catch up with me.

Feeling much better, actually
, I wrote back.
And very hungry! Definitely still up for dinner. I’ll be downtown today running errands, so let’s meet somewhere around 5:30. I’ll text you once I figure out where.

I knew exactly where I was going to tell Tommy to meet me for dinner, but I wasn’t going to tell
him
just yet. The less time he knew out destination, the less time he had to think about and/or research it.

Sounds good,
Tommy replied a moment later.

Just as I set phone-1 down, I heard a strange noise coming from the other room, and it took me a few seconds to realize what it was… It was phone-2, ringing. Living a double life was proving to be a challenge—and the hardest part of it was managing two cell phones!

I jumped out of bed, figuring it was J.R. ringing my other line. I figured he must have called Julie and gotten my number—and I figured I had about fifteen seconds to answer before he hung up, and I didn’t want to miss his call, since, after all, he called from “Unknown” numbers, and missing his call meant I’d have to wait from him to call back.

Surprisingly, when I got to phone-2, instead of seeing “Unknown” flashing across my screen, I saw a full, local phone number. It wasn’t Julie’s number, and I hadn’t given this number (or planned to give this number) to anyone else—so I was half-expecting to hear some type of residual caller when I answered. You know—when you get a new cell phone number, there are usually some “residual” calls the first few month, where people—usually collectors, telemarketers, or doctor/dentist offices—are trying to contact the person who had the number before you did.

“Hello?” I asked when I answered, waiting to see what I’d won, where I had an appointment, or how much I owed.

“It’s me,” J.R. replied. “I decided to follow your lead and get a throwaway phone. I picked this one up at the grocery store earlier this morning.”

Ah, the grocery store!
I cursed myself for going to a cell phone dealer when I could have just picked up a phone at the market. I could have avoided all that hassle with the clerk! I also cringed a little, though. I was disturbed by how easy it is to be sneaky these days.

“Good thinking,” I said.

“I decided you really should have a way of contacting me at any time, if you have to…and that’s what this phone is for. Your new number is the only one on it—the only one I’ll call or answer from this line—and you can call it whenever you have to,” J.R. went on. “But, right now, enough about that… I was wondering if you were up for some coffee?”

“Coffee?” I asked, still trying to swallow all the info J.R. had just dished re his phone. “Well, I could definitely use some coffee. But I just woke up—and do you think it’s really a good idea for us to go out in public?”

“Who said anything about going out in public?” J.R. replied. “Answer your door.”

Just then, I head a light rapping on my door. Even though J.R. had prepared me for the knock, it nonetheless alarmed me a bit, and I jumped slightly at the sound of it. Without so much as another word, I hung up phone-2 and went to the door, where I found J.R. standing. He was holding a trolley of coffee cups in his hand, and still had his phone on, resting, nestled between his ear and his neck.

“Good morning,” I said once I saw him. “Need a hand?”

“If you don’t mind,” he responded, extending the tray of cups. “I didn’t know what you liked,” he started, but then I interrupted.

“So you got one of everything?” I asked. “Where’s your backup with the rest?”

“I didn’t know what you liked,” he picked up, going on as if I hadn’t said a word, “so I got a few different things, to cover the bases.”

I looked down at the four cups and tried to read what the barista had scrawled on the side of each. I was having an unnecessarily hard time reading her fancy writing, but, I figured, whoever had ordered these drinks probably would’ve been able to decipher it.

“A mocha, a cappuccino, a latte, and a chai tea,” J.R. said, perceiving what difficulty I was having. “I figured those four were pretty good choices. Nice variety, for whatever suits your interests.”

J.R. had grabbed his phone and put it in his pocket by this point, and we were both on our way over to the couch. I set the drinks down on the coffee table, then ran my hands over my wrinkled shorts and T-shirt. I felt a little vulnerable and worried about my appearance. I only just woken up and had no idea what I looked like, and I couldn’t help but think it uncanny that J.R. had a penchant for showing up when I was without all of my bells and whistles on.

“So which one is it?” J.R. asked. It took me a moment to realize what he was talking about. I looked at the four cups in front of me.

“Actually,” I said, eyeing each of the penned labels, “I take regular, good, old-fashioned coffee—black, with two teaspoons of sugar.”

J.R. looked at me and laughed. “Of course you do.”

“But, since you went to all this trouble,” I swiftly added, “I’ll take one of these… Which one of these is the cappuccino?”

J.R. reached out and fussed with the cups for a bit, then passed me the correct one as soon as he found it. I took a sip of it, and looked at him… waiting.

“What?” he asked.

“I’m waiting to see which
you
pick,” I answered.

“Oh,” he said, leaning back on the couch, putting his arms out behind him. “I don’t drink coffee—or tea. So, none for me.”

I don’t know what came over me, but something did—and it was powerful and moving. I realized what J.R.’s gesture meant beyond the showmanship of it, and, for the first time in a long time, I felt as though someone actually cared about me in that quirky, cute kind of way that little girls dream of.

In other words, he was wooing me, and it made me want him.

The next thing I knew, I’d set down my cappuccino, stood up, and held out my hand, palm up, toward J.R.—“Come with me,” I said. “I have something else you might like, then.”