Chapter 8
I cried myself into an uneasy sleep, and Monday morning didn’t offer any solace. My head throbbed from too much drinking, and I felt achy and bruised.
Charlie was surly after our late night, picking at his breakfast and complaining that there was nothing good to eat at our house.
That was the problem with seeing how the other half lived; it was really hard to go back to reality.
I was the only caterer around Nana’s house, and the food really did suck.
I had two missed calls and five texts from Luke the night before:
Luke where are you?
Luke Did you guys get another ride home?
Luke What happened? Why did you leave like that?
Luke Emily, please call me. I talked to Annie and I need to talk to you.
Luke please call me.
Tara had texted too. I ignored everyone.
Mike’s keys were next to his wallet on the kitchen table.
I took them, and Charlie and I hopped into the Jeep.
I noticed that the driver’s side door was smashed in—a new development from Mike’s travels downstate.
I drove Charlie to school, then headed to work.
It was busy, which made it easier not to think about Luke.
Until, of course, he came into the store.
“Hi,” he said, looking all at once handsome, confused, and hurt. “Can we talk for a minute? You didn’t answer me. I was worried.”
“I can’t take a break right now. Can I help you with something?”
“I talked to my sister.” The customer I was ringing up listened avidly. “She told me what happened.”
“I’m working right now. It isn’t a good time for me to talk.” And I was really, really angry, and trying really hard not to cry. Again.
“You left your coat at Annie’s.” He handed it to me, and I balled it up and dropped it in the space under the register.
“Thank you. Next, please!”
The woman next in line jumped to attention. Luke and I were putting on quite a show, and I saw Martha eyeing me, motioning to the door. I shook my head. No, I didn’t need to take a break now.
“If you’re going to fly off the handle because my sister and I are close, then that’s fine. I’m not sure how you can fault her concern, given how you feel about taking care of Charlie. I guess I’ll see you around.”
What was he saying—was he trying to make this my fault somehow? I didn’t turn around as he left. Good. That horrible, aching feeling in my chest wasn’t my heart breaking.
Cassie’s texts started a few minutes later. Where was the car, had I taken it? Did I know that now Mike couldn’t get around? He needed to go places!
Annie wasn’t at swim practice that afternoon. I borrowed Coach Sean's keys and organized and cleaned the team’s equipment closet rather than going for a run. See? Commitment. Engagement.
When we got home that night, Mike and Cassie were both furious with me. “I could have called the cops on you, Emily,” Mike fumed. “Joyriding is a felony! That’s serious jailtime!”
“You would know,” I muttered. I raised my voice. “I had to get your son to school. I had to get to work to support your wife. What did you need the car for?”
“Where’s the Eldorado?” he demanded.
“Scrapped.”
We stared at each other.
“I’ll drive Charlie to school tomorrow and drop you at work,” he said finally. Charlie’s eyes lit up. Great.
The week went by in a grey cloud. Cassie was looking exhausted.
Charlie whined. I could barely bring myself to talk to either of them.
I had to wake Mike every morning to get him out of bed, smelling like sour alcohol and smoke and perpetually ticked off that it was so early.
“This is what time school and work usually start!” I wanted to scream. Instead, I zipped my lip.
When I came back from Roy’s on Thursday night, my bedroom door was shut. And locked, I found, when I tried the door handle. I rattled it. What the heck?
Cassie and Mike’s door creaked slightly as it opened and Cassie’s white face peeked out. “Mike’s asleep in there. Don’t wake him up.”
“In my room? Why is he in there?”
“We had a fight.” I could see that her eyes were swollen from crying.
“Why didn’t he take the couch?”
“Because it’s nicer to sleep in a bed!”
I wanted to scream. “It’s my bed!” I hissed.
She shut her door.
By the time I made it to Roy’s on Friday (thanks to a lift from Diego) after a near-sleepless night on the couch, I was so angry and tired, I was near tears.
Cassie’s next round of chemo was scheduled to start Monday and both of us were dreading it.
She hadn’t called the nurse back to confirm her appointments, and I had thrown a fit.
Mike had been AWOL all day with the car, so Charlie had to take the bus home and miss swim practice, and I had to wait for Martha to give me a ride home from work.
I tied on my apron and picked up my tray. There was nothing to do about anything. All I could do was keep going, and drag Charlie along with me.
I served, I pushed away unwelcome hands, I smiled at lewd comments. Nick Barnes came in and sat at a table with a friend. I brought them their drinks as quickly as I could and moved to the next table.
Then a mysterious figure entered the bar. A short, slight woman with a hoodie pulled down low, enormous sunglasses covering half her pretty face.
Annie Whitaker?
She sat down at a table and I hurried over. “Annie, what are you doing here? You should go.” I was sure she had never been in Roy’s before—hos and alchies definitely wasn’t her scene.
“Emily, I have to talk to you! Your phone isn’t working or something. I’ve called you a thousand times!” She paused. “What are you wearing?”
“It’s my uniform.” I had turned off my cell service.
There was no reason to keep paying for it, when I didn’t want to talk to anyone.
It was too expensive, a ridiculous expense.
We still had Cassie’s phone in case of emergencies.
And even better, her phone was still on Mike’s dime.
“I don’t have anything to say to you,” I told Annie.
“Except to ask you, please, please don’t kick Charlie off the team. ”
Tears started pouring out from under the ridiculous sunglasses. “Luke told me you said that! I don’t know why you’d think I would do that! Why would you say that about me?”
I stared at her. “Emily!” Roy barked.
I turned without saying a word, and ordered a vodka and tonic for her. It was the girliest thing we served. I put it on my tray and brought it back to her table.
Annie was wiping her eyes as I put the drink down. “What is that?”
“Vodka and tonic,” I told her.
“Do you have any cranberry juice?”
“No.”
“OJ?”
“Annie, this is the best you’re going to get here. I have to get back to work.”
She jumped up, sunglasses falling to the table. “No, Emily, we have to talk. I did not try to kick Charlie off the team! How could you think that about me?”
“Coach Sean told me, Annie. He told me that the you and the rest of the Board of Directors are disappointed in my family’s commitment and engagement.
That Charlie wasn’t coming to all the meets, and then that I had the nerve to ask for a scholarship.
You’ve seen Charlie at the pool and you know how much he loves to swim.
You knew exactly why we weren’t able to come to everything.
And I needed a break on the swim team fees.
I can’t pay my sister’s medical bills!” My voice was cracking.
“How could you threaten to take the team away from him? How could you, then invite me to your house and pretend to be my friend? You and your dad and your brother think I’m so trashy, working here and at the NGS.
I heard them, Annie! I heard Luke call my sister a tramp. ” I was crying now.
Annie’s mouth was wide open. Yep, I knew exactly what she had been up to. The secret was out.
“Emily, no, that’s not true!”
“Which part? Sean told me, and I heard Luke say it!”
“Please, can you sit down?”
I blew out an angry breath. “Annie, you don’t seem understand how a job works.
I don’t get to do what I want. I have to show up here, wear a skanky top, and serve drinks to disgusting drunks and their equally disgusting girlfriends.
And if I don’t, I don’t get paid, and then we don’t have money for food.
So no, I can’t sit down.” Good, now I was mad. It made me stop crying.
I stomped back to the bar to wipe my face and calm down. I saw Nick Barnes’ friend signaling, so I brought another round to their table. “We’re going to settle up,” Nick told me. He threw a fifty on my tray. “Here you go, baby.”
I kept my face impassive, and gave Roy the money to ring him up. When I brought back the change, Nick picked it up off my tray, then deliberately dropped a ten-dollar bill. “Oops. That’s your tip. Can you pick it up?”
Sure, it would be my pleasure to give him the opportunity to make a comment about my ass. I leaned down to get the money, and he grabbed me on my crotch from behind, and squeezed hard.
It hurt, a lot. I made some kind of a noise, like a squeal and a scream combined, and jumped away, back into a table I had just served with five mugs of beer. The table crashed down, mugs and beer falling on me, glass crashing to the floor with me as I hit the ground violently.
I sat on the floor, gasping in shock. Roy was moving towards us faster than I’d ever seen him go, a baseball bat in his hands. “Get out!” he roared at Nick and his friend. “Get the fuck outta here!” He punctuated his words by slapping the bat on his hand, then on their table.
Both men jumped up, Nick knocking over his chair. “Easy, man,” the friend said. “He was just kidding around.”
“Don’t come back,” Roy shouted, pointing with the bat.
I tried to get up, picking my way out of the glass. I was dripping with beer. “Sorry,” I croaked to the guys whose table I had knocked over. One of them grabbed me under my armpits and hauled me to my feet. “Thanks.”
“You ok, sugar?” Roy asked me.
Every eye in the bar was on me. “Yeah. I’m sorry, Roy.” He could take the broken glasses out of my paycheck.