42. Jess
Alyssa:
Hey, sister! You settling in okay out there? Haven’t heard from you even though you promised to check in. Your brother is pretty sure you’ve been kidnapped and skinned alive a’la the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.
Anna:
She’s here. She was not kidnapped or skinned alive but she does smell a little like she was running away from a serial killer in the Texas heat…
Teagan:
Aww, I thought she was doing a little better.??
Alyssa:
She was, but then she saw Chris right before she drove out.
Anna:
?? You mean Connor?
Alyssa:
No, Chris. I think they talked about Connor and it made her sad.
Jess:
Can you guys start your own thread if you’re going to text about me like I’m not around?
Anna:
Survey says?
Alyssa:
No.
Teagan:
No.
Anna:
And there we have it.
Anna’s apartment is small, but she always knows how to decorate and make a space feel like home. My bedroom for the next five months is actually the living room, thanks to a pull-out sofa bed, and she’s taken a lot of care into shifting her furniture around so that I feel like the area is mine and I’m not just crashing on her couch.
The walls are a little dingy, and the kitchen is horrendously outdated. But Anna is currently obsessed with YouTube videos showcasing renter-friendly upgrades on a budget, so she’s brought in a lot of surprisingly bright finishes and coastal themes that look really amazing. Just don’t ask her how much it cost because she will tell you down to the penny and it is not interesting.
“This chair is so comfortable,” I sigh and look out the window at the Los Angeles cityscape. “I would very much like to live here.”
“In LA?” Her face brightens from her seat next to me.
“No, in this chair.”
Her shoulders slump and she gives me her “seriously?” face.
“I guess technically if this chair is in LA, then I would live in LA by transference.”
“Hey, you know what we should do?” she asks, excitement thick in her voice. “We should go out! There’s a new club that just opened a couple of weeks ago and it’s supposed to be amazing! We can get dressed up and make all the boys cry.”
“It’s Tuesday.”
“So? This is LA. The City of Angels, The City that Never Sleeps!”
“I don’t think that last one is right. And I have my first day at the internship tomorrow.”
She pinches her lips together and stands up. “Okay, I didn’t want to have to do this, but you’ve forced my hand.”
Within seconds, she’s looming over me. It’s disconcerting, to say the least. “What? What are you doing?”
She kneels at my feet, gazing at me with sympathy, and grabs my hand. “Sweetie, I love you. And I am, just, beyond excited that you’re here, I really am.”
I smile. “Me, too.”
“Good! That’s so good. And hey, we’re close, right?”
“The closest,” I agree.
“We support each other?”
“Absolutely.”
“We’re honest with each other?”
Uh-oh. “Yeah…”
“Right, so that’s why I’m telling you that if you don’t take a shower, Mrs. Horowitz across the hall is going to call the cops for a welfare check because it smells like someone died in here.”
Sugarcoating isn’t exactly Anna’s forte.
“It’s not that bad,” I mumble, sneaking in an incognito armpit check. Oh god…“Okay just kidding, you’re right. So sorry. Showering now.” I hobble off of the chair, AKA my future home, and make my way to the bathroom.
“You’ll feel better, I promise,” she calls. “At least I know I will.”
It’s a fair point. I got in late last night after two days on the road and haven’t taken a shower since.
While Anna’s economical beach aesthetic adorns the bathroom, she couldn’t do much with the stained sink and tub. She told me she just pretends it’s the movie set from Psycho, but I’m not sure that makes me feel any better. Despite the old motel vibes, the hot water pouring on my skin feels pretty divine. After drying off and getting into some clean clothes (along with an extra swipe of deodorant just for good measure) I emerge from the bathroom feeling like a mostly new woman.
Anna’s in the kitchen making something in a blender. “Better?” she asks.
I run a comb through my wet hair and smile. “Much. You were right.”
She grabs her heart. “I just can’t hear those words enough! Come forth, I’m making margaritas for us. Do you like street tacos?”
“Is there anyone who doesn’t like street tacos?”
“Well, good because I’ve got Door Dash bringing some of the best damn street tacos you’ve ever tasted.”
For the next three hours, I allow myself to push all things Connor-related out of my brain. And it’s bliss. We laugh just like we used to, we eat amazing food, and drink delicious margaritas.
Of course, tequila doesn’t let things stay buried for long.
We’re sitting in lawn chairs on her shoebox-sized balcony and looking out at the city lights. The temperature is decidedly warmer than anything back home this time of year, but the air isn’t quite the same.
“Hey,” her perfectly pedicured foot taps mine. “You hanging in there?”
“Do you think I’m weak?” I blurt out.
“What? No, you’re one of the strongest people I know. Where did that come from?”
“I feel like…like it’s been a month and I still miss him so much. After all the things he said, shouldn’t I be relieved? Why am I still this broken?”
“Jess, that doesn’t make you weak, it just makes you in love. And you’re not broken, just your heart is. Fuck, that sounded lame. Don’t ever repeat that.”
“I didn’t feel this way after I left Alex,” I explain. “It’s so much worse. How is it worse to leave a two-month relationship than it was to leave a six-year marriage?”
She shifts in her chair. “Well, what you had with Alex wasn’t love. That was…manipulation at best. Alex was an asshole who made you believe he was somebody decent. Connor is decent, he just needs some therapy. Maybe a swift kick in the nuts.”
I laugh. “I get first swing.”
“Obviously.”
I swish the melted margarita in the bottom of my glass and slug it down. “Every morning when I wake up, I feel like I weigh a thousand pounds. Like my heart is heavy and I can’t breathe and I don’t think I can get out of bed.”
Anna sighs. “I know that feeling. You think it’ll never go away, but it does. I promise.”
“Anna?”
“Hmm?”
“When you’re a trophy wife, will you let me live with you and your wealthy husband forever? I don’t think I can go through this again.”
“Of course. You can live above one of the garages.”
We sit listening to the traffic for a few minutes longer before Anna breaks the silence. “Jess?”
“Hmm?”
“If he came crawling through that door right now with a promise to do better, would you take him back?”
The right answer is “no,” isn’t it?
“I would,” I decide instead. “I’d kick him in the nuts first, but I would.”