Crush (16 page)

It’s onlybeen eight months. I didn’t know there was a law that says I have to get over a death in “X” amount of months. I don’t say anyof this to Stacy. I just hold it in, like I hold everything else in.

“You’ve lost so much weight, you’re as thin as a spindle.” Her usual lecture. She stubs out her smoke and digs out a five to get us another couple of midori sours. “How much weight
have
you lost exactly?”

The look I give her says I don’t want to discuss it, but she doesn’t take the hint.
“Fine…I weigh one-thirty-eight.”
“You’re lying to me,” she frowns. “I weigh one-twenty-five and I
know
I weigh more than you do! Besides you said one-thirty-eight when I asked you almost a year ago! I didn’t believe you
then
!”
I let the cucumber flavor of my midori sour sit on my tongue for a moment and then swallow. “I can’t be mad at you because I know you love me.”
“I’m glad of that,” agrees Stacy.
“But you’re not mymother.”
“Maybe not, but I’m worried about you. You work too hard, you don’t sleep, you don’t eat, you’re all alone and won’t let anyone

It’s one of those rare times when I’m ready to tell her to fuck off and mind her own business, that bynow, she knows who I am, and why I am, and if she doesn’t like me this way, she needs to find a new best friend.

She intrudes on those thoughts. “I know you have your reasons. I know, Jamie. But you’re my best friend and I worry about you. It can’t be helped.”

“Think we’re too drunk to sing?”
She brightens. “You wanna?”
“Yeah…I know just what song I want to sing tonight.” We sing “How Soon Is Now” by the Smiths. She doesn’t

know it, but it’s my response to Stacy pestering me about my life. I’m alone. Sure, Tammy’s back in town. So what? He won’t be here long. He’ll only be here long enough to disrupt my peaceful existence, to throw my order into chaos. Then he’ll be gone, back to his perfect life.

I try to hate him. I
want
to hate him. For coming home. For being so perfect, so sweet. For making me fall in love with him all over again.

But I don’t hate him. How can I hate him, how can I even be mad at him, when he’s so beautiful? So wonderful?
I’ll
never
hate him. I’ll go on worshipping him long after he’s back in L.A.
“I loved your song.”
He’s standing in front of us.
Immediately, I’m sober as a judge. “Thank you.” I’m unable to speak above a whisper. While I grab another Wave menthol and light up with shaking hands, Stacy leaps up to hug him. “Hey! When did you get back in town?”
He looks at me expectantly.
As I focus on the orange-red tip of mycigarette, I explain, “His mom’s in the hospital. She fell and broke her pelvis. Dr. Mumy,” I sneer the name, “thought she’d broken her hip. When he couldn’t see anything wrong with the hip he had her up walking all over the halls. He’s such an ass.”
Stacylaughs, “Sit down, Tammy.”
He smiles hugely. “You guys are still singing!”
“Almost everyweek, unless one or both of us has to work.”
“You both work at St. Paul’s?”
“I’m a respiratorytherapist,” Stacysays.
“But you guys stayed in town?”
“Nothing wrong with Sommerville,” Stacyshrugs.
Tammy blushes. “No, I mean…I’ve been back home to visit Mom several times and I never saw you guys. I looked, at church, around town, here…”
“Oh, yeah?” grins Stacy, and elbows me.
Tammy’s face turns even redder. “Shut up.”
“Unless we’re working, we’re here,” Stacysays.
He smiles at me full force. I feel something clutch tightly inside of me. I take another long drag and turn myface away…so I can blow the smoke somewhere other than towards him.
“What are you doing now, Tam?” asks Stacy.
I read her mind. We’re going to pretend we know nothing about his radio show.
“I work at my college radio station. I host a show,
College Rock Lives!
”
“Sounds cool,” she replies, her voice laced with innocence.
He shrugs. “It’s nothing. We play rare stuff that the other stations don’t play, like the Smiths! I love them. And R.E.M., the Pixies, all kinds of great stuff.”
“We could use a station like that around here,” Stacy says, her eyes wide and unknowing. “I hardly listen to radio anymore. It sucks from one end of the dial to the other.”
“No, not the jammin’ oldies station!” I protest.
“Oh yeah. All me and Jamie have ever listened to is New Wave and Jammin’ Oldies,” Stacy laughs. “We can’t get into all this new stuff. I don’t even know who Lady Gaga and Katy Perry are! Who
are
they?”
“We’re reallygetting old now!” I add.
“Actually, there’s an affiliate station in Davis where you can hear my show.” Tammy’s trying to be modest, but I can tell he loves his job. “We’re also in San Francisco, Berkeley, San Diego, and Santa Cruz.”
“Ah,” Stacysmiles. “So you’re kinda famous up and down the state, eh?”
“Nooooo,” he rolls his eyes.
“How long you been doing it?”
“About twelve years.”
“Shit! Why don’t we ever hear about these things!” Stacy curses a little too gaily. “Are you on everynight?”
“Four nights a week,” Tammy replies. “They’re probably playing a show from a few months ago since I’ve been home.”
Home is
here
for him.
“I would have thought Ray had told you about my show,” Tammysays dejectedly. I want to tell him we’re pulling his leg, but I can’t seem to talk right now.
All the alcohol I’ve been consuming on an empty stomach must have evaporated the moment he came to our table. It’s getting an F for effort. I’m shaking so hard my teeth are clicking loudly in my ears. I can barely look at him. My insides won’t stop their ruthless lurching.
“I can’t stay,” Tammy says. “I’m heading back to the hospital for a while. I just wanted to saythank you, Jamie.”
I gulp, finallymeeting his eyes, but onlyfor a milisecond. “For what?”
“For convincing that stupid damn doctor to see that her pelvis was fractured.” He reaches across the table and shakes Stacy’s hand. “Gotta go.” Then he turns to me. “Thank you, Jamie.”
Whenever I hear my name cross his lips, it’s all I can do to maintain mysanity. Now, I put mycigarette in the ashtrayand give him my tobacco-stinking hand. His fingers wrap warmly around mine. My heart skips, stumbles, like a man falling down an embankment. Myeyes fixon his big, warm fingers…
Tammy says something to Stacy, and I blink. He’s still holding myhand. I have no idea how manyseconds have passed since he started shaking it. I feel him piercing into me with his eyes. I see Stacy smiling wickedly at me from the side. I feel like I’m about to die. He’s not letting go of my hand…he’s gently squeezing it…
“Okay, goodnight.” I’m pleading with him to let me go. He’s killing me.
He’s not letting go. The sooner I get it over with, the sooner he’ll let go, then I can function normallyagain. I shove myeyes up to meet his…it’s torture, but I hold the contact.
He slowlysmiles. Time congeals.
Joyfloods me, overwhelming, overflowing, spilling out of me, cascading out of me. Our eyes lock. Nobody else is in this room right now. Nobodyelse lives in this entire world.
Finally, he releases me. The loss of contact wakes me. I look at the ashtray. All that’s left of my cigarette is a long gray ash. Embarrassed, I let it fall among the six or seven other butts and grab a new one.
“Bye, you guys,” Tammy says, backing away slowly, his eyes

toward the glowing green exit, looking back over his shoulder, still smiling at me, driving me insane even from that distance. “Jamie!”
Please, God, don’t start.
“Oh. My. God!”
Still trying to ignore her.

They sing the classic Smiths song flawlessly. The sadness in Jamie’s voice makes the air around me warm, moist.
I can’t stop thinking about him.. The re-acquaintance I’ve made with his face keeps it sharplydrawn the next couple of days and nights. That graceful, androgynous face, that luminous smile that sets myheart pounding in time with mythrobbing cock.
I’ve never felt so euphoric. Not a one of those one-nighters could ever compare to this. I’m happy. I’m genuinelyhappy. I’m not planning stylish seductions. I’m not inventing counterfeit names and numbers. I’m not about to give this feeling up. When his face begins to fade, It’s time to see him. I need to see him, and I can’t wait for the feeling to explode inside of me again.
As long as she’s in the hospital Mom’s the perfect pretext. I tear up the stairwell to the third floor because the elevator takes too long to arrive.
There’s no sign of him at the station, and I’m like a kid who didn’t get what he wanted for Christmas.
Besides, whenever he’s not on, Mom gets substandard care.
I stop a guywho has “RN” on his badge like Jamie. “Is Jamie working today?”
“Jamie Pearce or Jamie Fillmore?”
“Pearce.”
“He and Stacy went to lunch,” the nurse says. “They should be back at four…or look in the smoking section outside the cafeteria.”
I don’t even stop to check on Mom before I stampede in the direction the nurse indicates. I can’t bridle myself. Something bigger than me is spurring me.
He and Stacysit smoking at a cement table, in the shade of a droopy willow, twenty yards away, as I enter the courtyard. They’re both dressed in blue uniforms. He’s wearing a long sleeve white shirt under his smock. His long tawny hair is out of its on-duty tail and flows wildlyaround his shoulders.
I stand, surrounded bytables, myeyes glued to his face, his lips, as he draws off his ever present cigarette. I suddenly feel exposed, and I’m prepared to do an about-face, but Stacy sees me. Too late. She waves me over vigorously as I hold my breath and tryto be casual as I stroll up to their table.
Feeling more idiotic with each passing second, I greet them with a guttural, sea lion yelp, “Hey!”
Jamie’s intentlyscrutinizing the glowing tip of his cigarette as usual. I wish he didn’t smoke. He looks annoyed, like I’ve spoiled a reallyfun private lunch. I feel myheart start to founder as I stutter awkwardly, “I know you guys are working…I just stopped byto see myMom…” I’m rapidlylosing mynerve. This is just not
like
me.
“Well, don’t just stand there, sit down!” chirps Stacy. She glances at Jamie and gives me a slywink. She’s an ally.
“How are you guys?”
Jamie still seems irritated. “Fine.”
“We were just talking about Jamie’s latest adventure up on three south,” says Stacy. “When he came on dutythis morning, he found one his patients had been in a diabetic coma all night. The night nurse was too busysleeping to check the guy’s sugar…”
“Stacy,” Jamie chides her in a sing-song voice, “patient privacy.”
“Oh, Tam doesn’t know him!Anyway, Jamie checks the guy’s sugar and it’s five hundred and forty-eight!”
“Is that bad?” I ask.
“Hell, yeah!”
“I knew something was wrong the minute I went into his room,” says Jamie. “‘Cause he was breathing funny, and his room smelled fruity.”
“Fruity?” I parrot.
“His body was trying to get rid of excess sugar because Dumbshit didn’t give him his insulin. We sent him up to ICU. They have him on an insulin drip now.”
It’s all Greek to me, so I say nothing. I’d rather listen to him talk anyway. He can talk about his job anytime. He can talk about anything, anytime. I love how he talks a little twangylike Mr. Tafford.
“Is she in trouble?” Stacyasks.
Jamie scowls. “Theywrote her ass up, but theywon’t fire her, even though she always sleeps on the job. They’ve asked her to switch to days, but she won’t…too much work, you know.” Suddenly, he brightens and grins decadently. “It hasn’t been
all
bad today. I’m also taking care of a guy who popped two Viagra last night…he’s still pitching a tent!”
Stacyand I bust up laughing. “Are you shitting me?” I ask.
“Nope…He’s trying to be discreet about his…condition, but everytime I pass byhis room, I look in the little window and there it

“Yeah…I think his girlfriend wanted a three day orgasm or something!”
The three of us snicker, and I begin snorting like that bimbette Chrissie Snow on
Three’s Company
, and that makes us laugh even harder.
“Is your lunch almost over?” I ask, when the hullabaloo abates a little, even though I alreadyknow. Jamie nods.
“I want to see you guys sing again. Can I have your number, Jamie?” God! I’m supposed to be
used
to asking for numbers. I asked for dozens during my virile college years. I’m supposed to be used to taking charge and making the moves. My voice still sounds like a barking seal as I quickly deploy another innocuous addendum. “Then I can call you and find out what night you guys are going to sing.”
“Mynumber?” he asks. His voice is like warm honey.
“Yeah,” I manage to croak, my hands rattling as I dig into my pockets for a scrap of paper. He borrows a pen from Stacy. His hands are as unsteady as mine as he scribbles down the numbers. As he hands it to me, I deliberately wrap my fingers around his. Acurrent races up my legs and into my belly. Asmile completelyungoverned byme spreads across myface. He stares up at me, and now I know. There’s no doubt in my mind. It was true then, and it’s true now.
“Didn’t mean to interrupt your lunch.”
Oh, yes I did
, I think devilishly.
His eyes are back on his cig, but he’s still smiling, and quivering. “It’s okay,” he says so low I can hardlyhear him.
Still trying to be cool and detached, I nod, “So I’ll see you in there, I guess.” I get about ten yards when Stacy runs up to me and grasps myarm. “He’s veryshy.”
“Yeah.”
“No, I mean it. He’s very, veryshy.”
I smile. “Got it.”
She’s not smiling. “He’s been through a lot, Tammy. You have to be careful with him.”
I kick a few clods of dirt with mytoe. “I understand, Stace.”
“No, I
mean
it. He’s been through some shit, a long time ago, before anyof us ever met him…You don’t know.
I
don’t even know. I sometimes wonder if Mr. Tafford knew everything that went on.”
I search her face. “I…heard things like…his folks beat him…”
“Yeah, but that wasn’t all. There’s more. I can feel it. I know not to ask.”
I watch him stare at his cigarette. He’s still smiling, lost in a tinyworld of black ash and red glow.
What is he thinking about?
“He loves you, Tammy,” she says softly. “He reallyloves you. He always has.”
“I know.” I’ve always known.
I’ve had his phone number for years.
Maybe I just love touching him.
“But he can turn off his feelings faster than anyone I’ve ever known.”
“Yeah,” I nod. I’ve seen him do it.
“Please, if you’re going to…just please, be good to him. Don’t hurt him.”
Abreeze sighs across the back of my neck. The blue sky is disappearing swiftly, giving way to gray overcast, an approaching storm. Asingle raindrop lands on mynose.
His protean face silentlyworks on what’s just happened…
I’d never
…I shake myhead silentlyat her.
Not ever
.