Chapter 6 #3
I’ve never been on a motorcycle, and since my mother died on one, I have absolutely no desire to ride on a motorcycle, ever.
Obviously, I didn’t tell him that. I don’t like to think about, much less talk about, my mother’s death.
I doubted that Quinn, who probably already thought I was a complete nutcase, wanted to hear about it anyway.
“Janie? Janie, are you here?” I heard Elizabeth burst through the door just as I was getting up to brush my teeth, for the tenth time that day, and go to bed. There was an unexpected urgency in her voice, so I met her at the hall.
“Yeah, I’m here; are you ok?”
When she saw me, she stepped back and closed her eyes, her hand over her chest. “Oh, God. I’m going to kill Jon.”
I lifted my eyebrows in confusion. “Jon? My Jon? What happened?”
Elizabeth sighed and let the bag on her shoulder fall to the ground. “He called me, like, eleventy-thousand times today; he kept paging me, too. He said the two of you were supposed to meet today, and you didn’t show up.”
It took me approximately five seconds to remember the planned meeting with Jon that I had obviously forgotten about earlier in the day. The sight of Quinn’s bare chest must have wiped my memory.
“Oh, geez, I totally forgot!”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “You need to get a cell phone. I’m blocking his number from mine.”
“I am so sorry, Elizabeth. I’m sorry he bothered you at work.”
“Don’t worry about it; I was more worried about you.
” She laughed lightly as she pulled off her work clogs.
“But you might want to send him an email or call him on Skype. He said something about calling in a missing persons report.” She stopped to give me a brief hug before walking to her room. “I’m glad you’re ok.”
I nodded and turned to my laptop. It was already ten o’clock at night.
I knew he would be up, but I didn’t particularly want to speak with him, so I opted to send him an email instead.
When I opened my account, I saw that he’d already emailed me five times, with each message progressing in level of anxiety.
The last was sent less than a half hour ago and read:
Would you please call me and let me know you are ok?
I am going crazy with worry. I love you, Janie, and just want to know you are ok.
I get that I hurt you and that you are mad, but please don’t punish me like this.
This isn’t like you. If you’re trying to make me upset, then you’ve succeeded.
If you don’t want to see me, just say so.
I’m scared to death that you are somewhere hurt.
If you get this and you are ok, then we really need to talk about getting you a cell phone. Please call me. Jon
I sighed and gritted my teeth. I was annoyed by his presumption that we “needed” to talk about “getting me” a cell phone (as if I couldn’t do that myself if I wanted to) as well as at the pinch of guilt I felt as I typed my response:
Jon, I’m ok. Honestly, I forgot about meeting you today.
I’m sorry I didn’t call, but there is no reason to worry.
Elizabeth just came home and said that you were calling her at work.
Please don’t do that again. You know that I usually check my email at least once a day, and you also know how I feel about cell phones.
I have no problem meeting you, I don’t want to upset you, and I’m not punishing you.
I really do want us to be friends. Let me know if you want to try to meet up next week sometime. Talk to you soon, Janie
I stared at my cursor and re-read my email.
I decided to delete Talk to you soon then I sent it.
I didn’t want him to think I was promising to speak with him soon.
I took a moment to skim down the list of emails in my inbox, and I noted with a great degree of frustration that none of them contained responses to the hundreds of employment queries I’d sent.
My thoughts drifted back to Quinn, and I remembered the card he gave me at breakfast. I reached to the coffee table in front of me and pulled out the card, letting my thumb caress his name before flipping it over to read the contact information he’d written on the back.
My mouth curved into a wistful smile when my eyes met with the image of Quinn’s handwriting. I really was ridiculous.
I clicked the Compose button and typed a quick letter of introduction, making sure to attach my resume to the message. As an afterthought, I decided to copy Quinn on the email. I wanted him to see that I was actually very interested in the position and thankful for his recommendation.
Just as I hit Send on the email, my account chimed with a new message from Jon. I stared at the subject line:
I’m sorry. I love you.
I sighed and crossed my arms over my chest. Shaking my head, I closed my laptop without opening his message.
I was tired. I huffed again. I wanted to brush my teeth and go to bed.
I didn’t like how uncomfortable and guilty Jon made me feel when I was certain—well, mostly certain—that he was the reason we were no longer together.
“You keep sighing; I can hear you in my room.” Elizabeth came around the couch and flopped down next to me, stretching her arms over her head as she did so. “What happened with Jon?”
I shrugged and unthinkingly expelled another loud breath. “I emailed him. I don’t really want to talk to him right now.”
“You need a cell phone.”
“No. If I had a cell phone then I’d have to talk to him. Since I don’t have one, I get to put that conversation off until I’m ready to have it.”
“Fair enough.” Elizabeth lifted her hands in surrender. “I don’t want to talk about old soggy pants anyway.”
I laughed and rolled my eyes; Elizabeth started calling Jon soggy pants when he accidentally sat in a wet seat at a movie theater once, and spent the whole movie with wet pants after confirming the liquid was soda.
“So…” Elizabeth wagged her eyebrows at me. “I have something for you.” She pulled a card out of seemingly thin air and squealed as she forced it into my hand. “Look! It’s Quinn’s card! He gave it to me last night before we left the club.”
I stared at it for a minute before I responded. “Oh. Are you going to call him?”
Elizabeth frowned at me then hit me on the arm. “What? No! You left the club so fast that he stopped me and asked me to give it to you.” She nudged me with her shoulder. “He wants you to call him. Ah! Janie and McHotpants, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g and f-u-c-…”
“Wait!” I exclaimed, cutting her off. “No, no—he gave you the card because he wants to help me find a job. He thinks there might be an opening with the security firm he works for.”
Elizabeth smirked. “Oh, really? That’s preposterous! What would give you that idea?”
I pulled an identical card from next to my laptop and handed it to Elizabeth; “Because he gave me one too; he wrote the name of a business manager on the back and told me to apply for a job.”
Elizabeth looked from one card to the other, speechless, then demanded, “Wait—when did he give you this?”
“This morning.”
“When did you…? Ok, start from the beginning. What happened? When and where did you see Quinn this morning?”
I told her about going back to the club last night and everything that transpired thereafter: the blackout, waking up in Quinn’s sister’s apartment with no clothes on, the fact that he’d wanted to be sure I knew he hadn’t made a move on me, breakfast, and the business card.
Elizabeth listened, frowning in disapproval and surprise, but confusion mostly, and didn’t interrupt even when I knew she was anxious to get to the origin of my matching business card.
She contemplated me for a moment after I finished. “So did you pick up the test to see if you’d been drugged?”
I shook my head. “No, I meant to, but I…” I sighed and let my head fall back to the couch. “I was so tired when I got home.”
“Oh! Thank God Quinn found you!” She squeezed my hand with hers. “Wait—did anything happen? How did he find you? When did he bring you home? Did anyone…are you ok? Did you go to a doctor?”
“Yes—I mean no.” I sighed again. “Yes, I am ok. No, nothing happened. No, I didn’t go to a doctor. I think Quinn found me before anything happened.”
“Oh.” She squeezed my hand harder then let go and rubbed her eyes.
“This is a lot to process. I’m exhausted.
I can’t believe you went back to the club.
He obviously likes you. He was flirting with you.
Why would he take you to his sister’s place?
Who does that? And what was with the reserved seating at breakfast?
Did this waitress woman really have a unibrow? I’m really glad you’re ok.”
I could tell she was tired because her usually well-ordered thoughts were bouncing all over the place. I smiled at her. “You need sleep; we can talk about it in the morning.” I pulled her up and she gave me another hug.
“I am glad you’re ok. Jon really scared me.” She released me from the hug and held my shoulders as she pinned me with her pale blue eyes. “If something happened to you, who would help me finish the pitcher on Mojito Mondays? Who would be my partner in Trivial Pursuit? Who would clean my bathroom?”
We both chuckled as I pushed her toward her room. “You did just fine cleaning your bathroom before I moved in.”
“No, I didn’t. I hadn’t cleaned it in several months before you moved in. I told everyone it was my bacteria wet lab.” Elizabeth yawned. “Goodnight, Janie. I love you.”
“Goodnight, Elizabeth. I love you too.”