The Long Way Home (14 page)

I felt my expression grow somber, "What?"

He put his hands up, "Just some food for thought."

I pointed, "If you'll excuse me, I am going to lie down
now."

He stood, passing me a bottle of pills, "This is a
slightly-stronger prescription. Let's give it a whirl for a couple weeks and
then we will reassess after the wedding. I assure you this is all wedding
jitters and very normal."

He stood and left the room.

I sat, staring at the pills. I wanted to scream and destroy
things, but I couldn't. I needed to keep it under wraps until 5:00 tonight.
Then I could head for the city. Muriel was coming over then. She had agreed to
my evil plan. I felt like the energy had been sucked out of me and crawled into
my bed.

I just needed a little nap.

The nap turned into a sleep. I woke with a start. My sister
was shaking me by the foot and attempting to drag me from the bed. "You
have to wake up. J.D.
get
up. It's 5:30."

I felt the cottonmouth and knew immediately, my mother had
drugged me. I looked at the tea she had made me, still on the makeup table.

"Mom."

My sister nodded, "She
roofied
you. You need to get up."

I shook my head, "I'm going to be sick."

She dragged me from the
bed,
"Get sick out the window of my SUV. I'll pack us a couple plastic
baggies." She wrapped my arm around her neck and helped me from the room.
The shrill laugh of Muriel filled the house. I looked at my sister, "She
came."

She nodded, "And Father has been ever so silent since
she asked to speak to him in private."

I smiled, "Good. Fuck him." My words were weak and
exhausted. Brandi carried me down the back stairs and across the lawn. She ran
for her SUV as my legs woke up a bit. She started the SUV and drove like a wild
woman. The traffic was nuts.

"Shit, I hope we don’t miss him."

She passed me her phone
,
"Call."

I dialed but his phone went to voicemail, "France, it's
me. Wait for me. I'm coming. Please wait." I hung up and looked at her,
"What if because I didn’t come yesterday, he doesn’t come today?"

She gave me a
look,
"He has
loved you since high school. Remember that summer he fawned over you? Oh God, I
was so in love with him. All the girls were. No one was brave enough to be
around him though, not a dirty scholarship kid."

I snorted and looked out the window. My palms were sweating.
She pulled up and I ran, barefoot from the SUV. My pencil skirt made it hard to
run but my stride was strong enough that it ripped the skirt a bit. I pushed my
legs hard as I ran into Grand Central Station. My eyes frantically scanned the
benches but he wasn’t there. My heart was pounding in my throat as I spun,
looking every which way.

Tears were instant. He had gone. I looked at the time, 6:30.
He had waited as long as he could and then
left,
no
doubt broken and believing I wasn’t coming.

I walked to a seat, looking like a crack addict. After a
while someone walked up and placed a five-dollar bill in my hand, but I just
sat there until Brandi made me leave.

I shook my head as she dragged me to the SUV, "He might
come back. I should stay, in case."

She shook her head, "He isn't coming, babe."

I tried not to heave as I cried, "I just don’t get it. I
had Muriel come over and threaten Daddy. She was my backup plan. I won and I
still lost."

Brandi flung her phone at me
,
"Try again."

I dialed but it didn’t even go to voicemail. It just rang and
rang. I dialed again but he didn’t answer.

"Can you go to his apartment on the Upper East
Side?"

She gave me a look, "Honey, he didn’t come. There is no
way he only waited half an hour. It’s Mike France. You think he came to Grand
Central Station and got out without signing anything in less than an hour? That
place was packed. He didn’t come. He would have been still surrounded when we
got there. People would have demanded autographs."

I swallowed my pride and my pain, and nodded. She was right.
He hadn’t come. He had flaked, typical hockey-star-Mike style. He probably had
some puck fuck warming his hurt feelings because I never picked him.

Little did he know, I had picked
him.

I looked out the window as she drove us home and tried not to
be completely broken hearted.

Of course as luck would have it, “Beth”, by KISS came on. The
song, the droplets of rain that fell on the
window
as
the sky got dark, and the tearing of my soul, pretty much made up the worst
moment of my life. Brandi sang along. I sniffled and watched the city lights
pass me by in a stream of colors.

"WHO IS READY TO GET THEIR DRINK ON?" Brandi
screamed in the limo.

I spaced out as they all grinded against each other to the
song “I Love It”, by
Icona
Pop. Some of the girls
were hanging out the moon roof and others were just dancing hunched over. The
music was so loud I could barely breathe.

A drink was put in my hand. I lifted it to my lips, trying to
get out of the haze from whatever they made me take or drink. I felt like my
entire body was detached.

Helena shook her ass in my face, making me smile. When we
pulled up in front of the club, I was dragged out and pulled to the lineup. The
bouncer was shaking hands with the ladies in our group and suddenly we were
inside.

The stupid bachelorette banner and lacy hat were annoying me.
I tried to pull them off but Diane pulled me onto the dance floor.

I let the shit they had given me take over. I threw my arms
into the air and danced like I was twenty-one again.

Someone came up behind me, grinding against me. I let them. I
tilted my head back as their hands roamed my body.

I laughed and drank whatever was put into my hands. I shook
my ass and dragged my hands through my hair. It was like senior year all over
again.

We started to bounce with the crowd, a sea of moving and
writhing people. It was fun and free, and I knew in that moment, I would
forever be a drug addict. Whatever they gave me was the best. My hair felt
amazing. My body felt tight and soft at the same time. The beat of the music
made my heart beat at the same time. I could feel the music as I bounced.

The hands behind me were gone suddenly. I turned to see the
angry face of Will. I leapt at him, kissing his cheek, "WILLY!"

He wrapped his arms around me and whispered, "What are
you doing here?"

I stepped back and showed him my banner.

He nodded, "Why was that guy grinding on you?"

I shook my head, "What guy?"

He looked annoyed as he grabbed my hand and dragged me to the
bathroom. He grabbed my face, "Are you high?"

I shook my head, "I don’t know. Let's go dance."

He winced and pulled his phone out. He was shouting into it
as I was bouncing to the music in the boys’ bathroom.

"SHE'S RIGHT HERE!"

I frowned, "Who is that?"

"France."

I grabbed the phone, "France, you fucker. You stood me
up. I showed up at the train station and you never came. So FUCK YOU! Come
party, France. It's my bachelorette party. I have to get married in a week,
baby. Come save me. I love you.
You son of a bitch.
No, I take that back. Your mom is nice. She would have been at the train
station." I turned the phone off and grabbed Will's face. My lips almost
planted themselves on his.

He pushed me back and dragged me to the back of the bar,
through the drink part of the bar and out into the alley out back.

The music had made me deaf. I was still bouncing to the music
as he dragged me away from the bar.

"Willy, you aren’t very fun. You were more fun in South
Carolina."

He looked back, "You're enough fun for us both." He
was texting. I knew it was France. I pulled my hand from his, "What are
you doing?"

He shook his head, "You need to go to France's place. He
wants me to take you there."

I jerked my hand free, "He had his chance. You want
yours, Willy?" I pulled at his belt. It seemed like the right choice.

He grabbed my hands, "You are a hot mess." He
dragged me down the street, but I was in two-block shoes. I shook him off,
"I can't walk anymore. These are my two-block shoes."

He stopped, looking exasperated, "What is a two-block
shoe?"

I wiggled my pretty foot in the air, waving my
Louboutin
pump, "I can't walk more than two blocks or
my feet get sore. These are fun shoes, not sport shoes."

He sighed, "You are high maintenance."

I nodded "I know."

He laughed, "I get it though, you're cute and kind of
crazy. I get it."

I frowned and he flagged a cab. In the car something bad
happened. I started to feel the motion of the car in a bad way. My stomach
twisted. I opened the cab window and threw up out of it.

"Come on, dude. Get your girl in the window."

Will sighed, "She isn’t my girl. She's a friend's
girl."

I gagged and heaved as he pulled up in front of France's
apartment. I felt the lace tiara thing slip from my bed. I looked back as it
bounced along the pavement. Something about it was troubling and maybe a little
sobering. "My friends and sister are going to worry."

He rubbed my
back,
"You can
message them when I get you to France, safe and sound."

"Please, don’t touch me. I don’t like to be
touched." I shook my head, "He doesn’t want to see me, Will." I
sat down on the seat, looking at my hands. "I'm probably interrupting
something."

He sat next to
me,
"He just
screamed at me and told me to bring you to his apartment to sleep it off. I'm
guessing that means he wants to see you."

The cab stopped. Will paid and climbed out. He ran around and
opened my door, offering me his hand. I hesitated before I took it, letting him
close his hand around mine and pull me from the car. The cabbie sped away,
screeching the tires. Will lifted me up into his arms as my knees buckled. I
shook my head, "I don’t like being touched by people. I can walk." He
put me down but I staggered and grabbed onto his arm for support.

"You had that guy at the bar crawling all over you; you
didn’t seem to mind."

I nodded, "I don’t care when I drink." I shuddered
with a threat of more vomit, "I don’t feel good anymore."

My face nestled into his chest. He lifted me up again and
carried me to the door and then the elevator. When the doors opened, France was
standing inside of it, taking up a lot of the room. He looked pissed when he
held his arms out for
Will
to hand me over. The minute
I was in his arms, I closed my eyes, letting the room spinning take me. The
safety of his chest and the smell of him, told it me it was time to sleep.

"Thanks, man."

"Anytime. You get some rest, J.D."

I waved weakly, more like flopping my arm about. The elevator
moved but we didn’t talk. He held me to him and I let the comfort of him make
me feel better. When we got to his floor, he carried me inside. He was being
gentle as he laid me down on his sofa. He forced my eyes open. I winced.

"Fuck, Jack. You're stoned. What did you take?"

I shook my head, "I don’t know. A white pill and my blue
pills and drinks."

He shoved me back onto the couch, "Did you eat?"

I shook my head, "I had some olives."

He sighed and walked away. The
dimly-lit
room burned my eyes. I closed them but tried to stand. I barely managed to get
to my feet and stumble into the kitchen.

I leaned against the metal countertop I always hated. It felt
too industrial. He was making eggs or something. He looked different. "You
shaved."

He nodded, not meeting my gaze. His handsome face was back.
The beard might have hidden the clench in his jaw. Clean-shaven, I could see
just how angry he was.

He looked up at me, "Bachelorette party?"

I nodded and slumped onto a barstool.

"Why? Why didn’t you just come?"

I scowled, "I did. You didn’t come. I was there."

He looked lost, "When?"

I swallowed and tried not to throw up anymore. "The
second day you were meeting me. I couldn’t get there the first day. I had
something to do."

He slammed his fist on the counter, "More important than
meeting me? Really? You're such a bitch sometimes, Jack. Sometimes you are one
of them."

I couldn’t get the words to explain. I stepped off of the
stool and slumped onto the floor. The room spins were out of control. The last
thing I saw was his moving mouth, still shouting at me for not meeting him.