Feeling This (9 page)

She still looks frightened which I don’t want, but I’m not moving. Through my whole childhood I ate in this kitchen with Maria and before her, Remy. If the kitchen was good enough for me back then, it’s good enough for me now. She looks away and trudges to the stove to gather whatever has now started to emit small puffs of smoke.

A newspaper is folded on the other side of the table. I can see Susan’s smiling face plastered across the front. I slowly reach across to pick it up but before I can grasp it, my mom grabs the flimsy paper and hugs it to her chest as if her life depends on it. She meets my eyes with anger and turns chastising Maria, “Maria, I told you to tell Jordan we are in the dining room.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I speak up firmly, “Mom, don’t give her a hard time. She told me where you were, I chose to sit here.”

She straightens up and moves the paper behind her body. “Well then Jordan, join us and have some coffee. Maria will bring your meal in.”

Scooting further back in my chair, I rest my arms on the edge of the table while crossing them in defiance, “No Mom, I think I’ll have breakfast here.”

Then I scoot my chair back and make my way to the coffee pot to pour a cup. She watches as if my actions are unheard of.
When did she become such a snob?

As I settle back into my chair, Maria places a plate in front of me. I glance up into her face, “Thank you Maria. I’m starved and this looks wonderful.” She nods and backs away turning to clean up the mess on the counters. My parents make their way into the kitchen a few minutes later and sit across from me, both with stern expressions. The newspaper has mysteriously disappeared.

My dad pipes up, “Jordan, how about a round of golf today?”

Really? This is how it’s going to go? They want to pretend like it never happened. Like Susan never existed. I shake my head in response and concentrate on my food.

Next my mom speaks up apprehensively, “I was thinking maybe we could go and talk to someone, a counselor to help you through this.”

This deserves a response and not a good one. I look up and meet her serious, unblinking gaze. “I think maybe I just need some time.” My voice increases in volume as I glance between them, “For God’s sake, she just died. I just lost her and you’re pretending like it didn’t happen. Don’t act like everything is fine, because it’s not. Don’t tell me to move on or that I need to talk to someone. Give me some time. ” My breathing becomes strangled. “Susan was everything to me. I just need time.”

My mom winces with each word I bark. I don’t have the energy to care at this point. I understand they are trying and most of the time they mean well. I’m not in the mood for it. Coming here was a good move on my part because I can’t go back home yet. I can’t face the apartment right now that is full of so many memories.

***

After almost a month of drowning my sorrows, my dad finds me sitting out by the cobblestoned pool deck. The air is warm and dry. Probably a nice day for a swim, it just requires too much motivation and energy, both of which I don’t have.

“Jordan, hey son.” He looks to my hand that is grasping a small glass and to his watch. It is only eleven in the morning, as good a moment as any to have a drink.

He gestures to the chair across the wooden table from me. I nod and lift my glass to my lips. My eyes briefly spot the clear blue sky beyond the wide brimmed umbrella blocking the bright sun.

“I think it might be time son. It’s been a month. Maybe you should be getting back to the apartment.” He stumbles over his words.

“Jordan, I think you need to go back home and start living again.”

Once he finishes, resentment settles in my mind so I respond angrily, “Are you kicking me out?”

“No son, not really, you don’t really live here. Remember, you have a home waiting for you to go and…take care of things. You know you are always welcome here. I think the strain of all of this is getting to your mom.”

I look at him incredulously and down the last of my drink. The strain is getting to my mom.
Unbelievable
. I’m the one who lost Susan and my mom is strained. I abruptly stand, knocking the chair backwards. Not bothering to pick it up, I march up to the house, climbing the stairs to the porch, making my way back into the house to gather my things. If I’m not welcome here, I’ll find somewhere I am.

As I stomp my feet up the stairs, I remember when I used to do the same thing as a little boy and Maria tried to discipline me. I was rotten then and things haven’t really changed.

My mom is coming down the hall as I turn into my room. Placing my bag on the bead, I load the small amount of my clothing that I have here. She hovers in the doorway asking worriedly, “Jordan, what are you doing?”

I look back at her, glaring but I don’t respond. After a moment my eyes avert back to gathering my things. She hurriedly asks, “Did your dad tell you to leave?”

She strolls in and grabs my arm gently pleading, “Honey, you can stay as long as you want. I told your father you just need time. He thinks you need to face things and move on. Jordan? He doesn’t know what you need.”

I yank my arm out of her grasp and growl, “I’ll be out in a few minutes. I don’t want to put any
strain
on you.”

She looks away appalled and calls out as she leaves down the hall, “Don’t go, I’m going to get your father. You can stay as long as you want.”  Her voice fades as she travels down the stairs.

A minute later the bag is on my shoulder and I’m climbing down the steps two at a time. My parents cut me off as I’m leaving out of the side door from the garage. Tears are streaming down my mom’s cheeks as she pleads with me, “Jordan, please stay, your father didn’t mean what he said. We both want whatever is best for you.”

I raise my eyes to meet my dad’s, he looks to my mom and says simply, “See, it’s just too much.”

My mom turns to him and yells, “What did you tell him? We can’t lose him. Tell him he can stay.”

At this point my irritation has subsided. I realize now what my dad means. My sadness and mourning have taken her over and it’s affecting their relationship. As much as I don’t want to face things, I know deep down he’s right. It is still so new but I need to at least try. This is not fair to them.

“Mom, it’s okay. I need to go. Don’t be mad at him.”

Stepping forward I wrap my arms around her from behind and kiss her cheek. She twists in my arms stepping out of my grasp, “At least let us come with you. It’s going to be tough to go home. If we are there with you it might be easier.”

I nod to acknowledge her, “I know mom, but I need to do this alone.”

I shake my dad’s hand and turn to climb into my car. As I maneuver the car down the long, winding drive to the gates, a deep dread settles over me. I can’t let myself waste away anymore. I have to face things. Everything in me wants to go back to that room I had as a child and avoid my life but that’s not an option anymore.

Chapter Ten

The lot is nearly empty as I pull in and the rain has reduced to a steady trickle. No one is going to venture out on a Monday night in this weather. My tips will surely suffer. After running across the lot, umbrella in tow, I push open the wide wooden doors. The smoky air surrounds me like a fly attracted to a bright lamp. I rub my nose uncomfortably, noting that this is definitely one habit I will never take up.

Once behind the bar, Becca finds me to announce her latest escapade. Apparently Tyler is out and Jacob is in. I called it, one day was all it took. She turns on her heel when I don’t give her the response she was hoping for. This girl changes men faster than she changes underwear, there is no excitement for me in that. The intervention thing is out the door, she would never listen to me. I, who haven’t even had sex in…I can’t even remember at this point.

An hour passes without a grab at my ass or a whisper in my ear and I feel like I’m having with-drawls. Maybe Derek is really into my sister as he portrays. That prospect is one I don’t want to dwell on.

Later into the night, I’m having a conversation about the Dallas Cowboys with one of the regulars, who is completely drunk, anything to make the night go by faster. A high pitched voice calls down the bar, “Hey barmaid can’t a chick get a drink around here?”

I turn towards Heidi’s voice, surprised she showed up.  I make my way down to her, placing a beer in front of her with an encouraging smile, “Drink up.”

She grins taking a quick sip then glances around, “This place is jammin huh?”

It’s so dead, I could probably go home and let Derek close, however I can’t do that to him, I don’t want to. The scattered tables have a few parties and the bar is filled with maybe six regulars and Heidi. Worse than any night we’ve had in a long time.

She leans forward sneakily whispering, “Let’s do a shot.”

I shake my head at her, “No Heidi, you can have one but I can’t. Duck would have a fit.”

“Oh come on, Kimber, live a little. He’s where, holed up in his office, right? He probably won’t even come out until it’s time to leave.”

One of the regulars, Tommy, already pretty plastered, leans over and exclaims, “I’ll buy you girls a shot.”

I sigh and put two shot glasses up dusted with sugar and pour vodka evenly in each. Without a word I place a lemon in Heidi’s open hand as she squeals with delight and calls out, “Lemon drop time.”

We each grab one grinning as she toasts, “To Mr. Hottie for Kimber, wherever he may be.” At that we both down them and slam the glasses on the bar.

Tommy claps his hands amused and calls out, “Again girls, on me.”

I shake my head gathering the glasses to wash them. Before I can take them any further, Derek comes up behind me removing them from my hands and places them back up on the bar in front of Heidi. He expertly sugars them and pours another for each of us. As he faces me placing mine in my hand, he tells me, “I know things are tough right now, you deserve this even if you have to be here at work to let go a little. I’ll take the wrath if Duck comes out.”

Heidi calls out, “Cheers to that dude.” and downs it.

I raise my hand to Derek saluting, following Heidi. He pours another as I suck on the lemon. My eyes go up surprised as he explains, “Just one more Kimber. It’s okay, you should go and sit with Heidi. I’ll close tonight.”

I realize that the two I’ve already had are starting to hit my empty stomach, I decide not to argue. It’s not every night Heidi graces us with her presence. I make my way to Heidi’s side and lean against the bar.

Tommy pipes in holding up his cigarette burnt all the way down to his knuckles, “This is the highlight of the day, sexy girls and shots, on me again.”

I look over to Derek and gesture with my finger cutting across my neck, letting him know, Tommy’s cut off. He nods as I lift the shot to match Heidi’s. As the glass touches my lips a voice questions behind me, “Aren’t you going to wait for me?”

I lower the glass from my lips before the vodka touches, surprised but also terrified. Heidi calls out smiling from ear to ear never moving her gaze from mine, “Hey Derek, I think we might need another. ‘Mr. Hottie’ just arrived.”

I turn swiftly and meet Andrew’s green gaze. His full lips are turned up in a smirk highlighting his strong, chiseled jaw. He leans in to grab the shot from Derek just brushing my shoulder. The close proximity with his wonderful smell is going to make me fall on the floor. My hand finds the back of a bar stool to steady myself. He holds his glass up staring at me and declares, “To old friends.”

Heidi and I both salute and gulp our shot. When I raise the lemon to my mouth he watches with heavy lidded eyes.
What the hell?
He leans down while I suck on my lemon a little longer than necessary and whispers in my ear, “You look really good Kimber.”

I stare up at him while abruptly removing the lemon to toss it on the bar and straighten up moving an inch away. Heidi’s laughter breaks our connection. She announces, “Derek, I think we need another. This shit is getting good. Who woulda thought this place could be so entertaining on a rainy Monday night.”

Turning, I glare daggers at her which just causes more laughter. Andrew places his hand over mine resting on the bar stool. At his touch my heart speeds up and nervous energy courses through me. He places his other hand on my shoulder telling me, “Calm down Kimber. We’re just two old friends getting reacquainted.”