“I am so goddamn tired of stories about lost kittens, broken boys, and bloody puppies, Joanie,” I spat as I slammed my hand down between us. Rarely did I actually call her Joanie, so when I said her full name she knew I was upset or serious. “I need you to back me up here, without thinking about Nick.”
“Jesus Christ, Wilson, what the fuck is going on in your head? Wake the hell up. I’ve always been there for you. I will always be there for you. That’s what family is about. What was I supposed to do, leave Nick there to bleed to death? Max beat the shit out of him!”
“I didn’t realize Nick was that bad…where was Cindy?” I snapped.
“She left him! He had a concussion, and his own sister decided to bail on him. What was I supposed to do? He had to have someone there to wake him up, check on him, and make sure he didn’t freakin’ die. So I’m sorry, Wilson, but I wasn’t going to leave him alone.”
J’s chest was heaving up and down, almost as fast as mine. I could feel the pendulum shift in her favor. The story I’d built in my head started to crumble and crack under the pressure brought down by the timeline of J’s unselfish acts. She’d certainly earned her share of the brownie points one needed for heaven. And here I was, tossing mine away to the fishes.
I watched her as she slid her hands across her eyes and vigorously pulled her dark brown hair into a tight ponytail, magically tying it up. That’s when I totally snapped.
“What do you mean what the fuck is wrong with me? Let me see, in less than a week I’ve turned 18, had sex for the first time, watched my boyfriend’s dad die, got a call from my grandparents’ lawyers telling me I have to hurry back to sign papers, I lost my boyfriend, made out with Nick, got my boyfriend back only to have to go home without him, I could be knocked up, who knows, my best friend has fallen for the off-limits guy, and when I get back home I will return to a vacant house that my grandparents used to live in….let me see, did I forget anything? Oh, yeah, I got a call from my ‘birth mom,’” I spewed without taking a breath while pushing air quotes as I spat the words. I’d lost it. Yeah, I was at a breaking point, looking into the eyes of my best friend and vomiting my hell week all over her in spite of the fact that she unselfishly decided to leave Nick come back to California with me.
There was a sizable moment of silence between us just as the limo came to a stop. I looked out the window behind J and noticed we were at the Aspen Airport.
“Okay, you’re right, you’ve had a pretty fucked-up week. But let’s see…finally you’re an adult, you waited forrreeevvvverrrr to have sex, you haven’t lost the guy, you can’t be pregnant because we have the same cycle and our periods just came right before winter break, Nick is a good kisser, the papers aren’t lost and you aren’t going back to your grandparents’ house alone, and yeah, it really sucks that your mom called you. And if you are that worried about being knocked up, just pee on a stick! My question is this…what are you going to do about it? You can cave to the bullshit, or you can rise to the occasion. It’s your choice,” Joanie’s long response ended as the door to my side of the limo sprang open and Allen was waiting to help me out. She pointed toward the door. “Make a choice,” she said.
“Well, I chose to rise to the occasion. It would be stupid not to,” I answered J as I grabbed Allen’s hand.
“Then it’s settled. Don’t play stupid. Put on your big-girl panties and keep your eyes on the important things,” Joanie said as she started out of the car. “Thank you,” she hummed to Allen as he helped her out of the limo after me. The wind kicked up and gave me an opportunity for his Old Spice cologne to fill my nose. The scent pulled me back to summers in Mendocino with my grandpa. It was the same aroma that would fill the car when he’d pick me up from school every June. It reminded me of the times he’d splash it on before he and grandma would go ballroom dancing at the Mendocino Community Center every Wednesday night. Every time, Grams would start sneezing and complain that he smelled fine without putting that crap on. Gramps would smile and tease that it’s what won her over. Standing there on the tarmac, I became that little girl who danced on his toes and drove the car while sitting in his lap. I was that same scared little girl who clung to his arm as he and Grandma dropped me off at Bethany’s School for Girls when I was 8 years old. It was the same aroma that reminded me my grandpa was gone.
“You are most certainly welcome,” Allen retorted, pulling me out of my memories of my grandfather. “Your plane is waiting.” He turned and pointed to a compact yet impressive white commuter jet with GP spread across the side in gold script writing. It looked amazing. I tried to swallow but I don’t think I had any saliva left in my mouth. My eyes burned from staring and the chill of the day worked to remind me I was still standing in Aspen.