“Okay, but make it eight so she’s already in bed,” Jolene said quickly. And then she added, “I don’t want her to think we abandoned her.”
It took all of my willpower not to roll my eyes, but I smiled and nodded, heading for the front door. Good God. How fucking dramatic. It’s not like she’d be leaving Mercy with a complete stranger.
“See ya,” I said, and then, “in two hours.”
It only took Jolene thirty-seven minutes to cancel. I was furious, pacing my small living room, my eyes burning in their sockets. Her text had been friendly, and she’d used Darius as an excuse, saying he’d had a long day and didn’t feel up to it, but I knew the truth. She didn’t trust me. I took a few shots from an old bottle of rum I had in the back of the pantry and grabbed my hoodie from the coat rack. I felt reckless … alive! I’d sacrificed so much for them. They had no idea how lucky they were. I cared. How many other people could say they had someone like me in their lives? Who cared as much as I did?
I drove east on 5, passing the trendier, hipster neighborhoods and exited near one of the dingier parts of Shoreline. It was the type of place where you kept your car doors locked at all times and always made sure you had pepper spray on hand. I found a grimy liquor store with bars on the windows and a cracked asphalt parking lot. I probably could have found a closer, safer place to buy liquor, but I liked the drama of the situation. Would I be mugged? Maybe. And besides, I just needed to get away from those people. People who thought they were happy when they couldn’t see the full scope of the situation—too blinded by their misguided perceptions of right and wrong. Ryan was moving in on Jolene right under Darius’s nose, and Darius was spending more and more time away from home because he was deeply unhappy. Poor little Mercy just needed her parents, but they were both distracted. Well, here I was and I wasn’t going to let Jolene ruin her. Thank God I was part of her life, that I could pour my love into her. I often pictured her as a teenager, angry with her parents (rightfully so) and thanking me for my active and loving part in her life.
I was standing in front of the various bottles of white and dark rum when Darius texted me.
Thanks for the offer. Maybe another time?
Was it you or Jolene that didn’t want to go out? I texted back.
Errr … me?
That’s what I thought, I shot back.
I was so annoyed I stuck my phone in my back pocket without waiting to see if he’d answer me, then I grabbed a bottle of Captain Morgan Private Selection and a six-pack of Coke, and marched to the register. The clerk asked me if that was all, and I told him to throw in a pack of Capri Slims. The ones in the pink box like Jolene bought. I grabbed a pack of matches from the little ashtray next to the register and told him to keep the change. I’d never told anyone to keep the change before, but they said that in the movies. I didn’t bother waiting till I got home to sample my purchases. I opened a can of Coke as soon as I climbed in the car and chugged a quarter of it down. Unscrewing the cap from the Captain, I replaced the Coke with rum and swirled it around to mix it. I took a sip. Vile. Straight rum. I was too upset to be choosy. I smoked one of the Capris as I sipped on my drink, watching the cars drive by. I was about to pull out of my parking spot when I saw that I had a missed call from Jolene. That shocked me. Maybe she changed her mind and wanted to go out after all. I check my voicemails, but she didn’t leave one. I decided to call her back.
“Hey, hey,” she said.
I kept my voice neutral and responded with a curt, “Hello.”
“I saw you leave, just wanted to make sure you’re okay?”
She saw me leave? Had she been watching me through the window?
“You kind of sped out of the neighborhood like you were involved in a car chase,” she said, softly. “Just wanted to make sure…”
“I’m not near any train tracks,” I shot back. “If that’s what you’re hinting at.”
“No, no, no,” she said, quickly. “That’s not what I meant.” Though we both knew that’s exactly what she meant.
“Darius and I were thinking we could do a double date with you guys next week.” Her voice dropped off as she waited for me to react. I rolled my eyes.
“Sure, sounds great. What day are you thinking?”
She told me Thursday night because that’s when her mom could watch Mercy, and we made plans to meet at their place at seven.
“Seven?” I asked. “Are you sure you don’t want to do eight?”
“Nah,” she said. “Mom wants to spend some time with Mercy.”