Stretching out on the couch, I decide just to close my eyes for five minutes. It’s been a long day and I’m tired. A power nap will give me enough energy to face the evening.
I’m coming out of a dream in which I’m trapped in some kind of caul and trying to break through it to make it back into this world. Tearing at the caul, I wrestle my way out of it and back into consciousness. My heart is pounding, my head is pounding, and someone is pounding on my door. “God dammit!”
Struggling off the couch, I stomp my way into the kitchen and stalk over to the door. With every intention of fucking up whoever is on the other side, I throw open the door, scaring the crap out of my ex. Advancing on her, I poke my finger into her chest.
“I’m done with this. I do not want you here. I don’t owe you anything. I am not going to give you money. You are not going to stay at my house. You need to get your ass out of my life. I don’t want to see your face ever again.” My voice is going up in volume as I continue to jab her repeatedly with my finger. The shock on her face almost makes me laugh, but I shake it off as I continue my tirade. “You will not come to my house. You will not speak to me in public. If you see me at a bar or a restaurant or a store, you will pretend that you don’t see me and look the other way. Are we totally fucking clear?”
Stepping back, she looks at me. Coming down from my tirade, I realize that she looks neither pissed off nor scared. Just sad. She shakes her head at me for a moment and looks down at the ground.
“I get it. I understand. I’m sorry. I guess I was counting on the fact that we once loved each other. I thought the fact that I’m in trouble might have stirred your compassion. I won’t bother you again.”
“That’s all I want. I just want to be left alone.”
She nods. “You will be. All alone. And someday, you may regret it.”
Walking back to her vehicle, she pauses once to look back at me. She opens her mouth to speak and then thinks better of it. I watch her get drive away and suddenly, I think I’m going to cry. Back in my kitchen, I perch on a stool and rest my head on Frank’s tremendous girth. He chirps once as I lay my head down. I can feel his purr rumbling through his rib cage against the side of my face. I think I could be happy like this for the rest of my life. Just me and Frank and a few million cans of tuna. I think if we ever have a zombie apocalypse, Frank and I will be set. We’ll just hole up here and pick ‘em off one by one, tossing the bodies over the porch and down the hill. Frank shifts and turns, going back to sleep. I wish I could come back as a cossetted house cat. Closing my eyes, I turn off my thoughts and go back to sleep.
Chapter Twelve
Sam is already at the Pit when Roxanne and I walk in. She has one of those looks on her face that automatically puts me on guard.
“What?”
She nods in the direction of the bar. Olivia is sitting there with a guy in cut off jean shorts and a deplorable tank top. To be fair, I’ve worn that same outfit before, but if they are on a date, he is seriously lacking in the style department. The dude’s hair is longish and curly and he has a plethora of body hair that’s visible across his back and everywhere else.
“He looks like Ron Jeremy,” I say.
“Who’s that?” Roxanne asks.
“A porn star.”
Sam laughs. “More than a porn star. He’s the world’s ugliest man with the world’s largest penis.”
Roxanne glances back as we sit. “Olivia is sweet. Should we invite them over?”
Coughing, Sam puts her hand up in a stop gesture. “A. No. And B. No.”
“Roxanne thinks everyone is sweet,” I say.
“Maybe it has something to do with my attitude in life,” she replies. “I believe in the best in people, so people show me their best.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Sam says, taking a chug of her beer.
The waitress drags over to our table and mumbles, “What ya want?”
We order a pizza and a round of drinks. The waitress shuffles off without acknowledging anything we said.
Sam looks after her. “Think she got that?”
“Not a chance. We’ll end up with a meat lover’s pizza instead of a Greek.”
“And I’ll get a whiskey sour instead of a rum and coke,” Roxanne adds.
“As long as we get something edible and something drinkable, we’ll be ahead of the game,” Sam laughs.
Olivia and her companions appear to be deep in conversation at the bar. I catch Sam checking them out and raise an eyebrow.
“I’m just making sure she’s involved enough in her date to ignore us.”
“It’s looks as if she’s having a much easier time ignoring you than you are her,” Roxanne replies.