Author's Chapter Notes:
Disclaimer: Only the original characters are mine.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
FIVE DAYS
(IN THE LIFE OF JADE TAYLOR)
Monday
People are more prone to commit suicide on Mondays. It’s one of those useless facts Jade knows. Lucky for her, Jade isn’t suicidal and even if she were, she wouldn’t kill herself on a Monday. Saturday, a day of leisure and inaction is more her style. There are theories that those who are suicidal choose Monday because it’s the beginning of the work week, the return to the daily grind, which confirms that life is inherently meaningless and just a series of empty actions. Jade believes this is only true for the comfortable middle class. The ones with jobs and homes, the ones to whom Monday means something. When you’re sleeping on the street and selling cans for quarters, Monday is just another shitty day.
For Jade, Monday is a return to a routine, but it’s one she likes and can be proud of. For the first time in her life she’s one of the majority of Americans who get up and go to work and make a decent living that puts food on their table and clothes on their back. There’s no foster parent telling her she ought to be grateful for the pittance they give her in allowance or any nuns telling her she should learn to live without as Christ did. She controls her money and her future now.
Five days a week, Jade gets up at six to the sound of her alarm. She eats before showering because she doesn’t want to spend the rest of the day smelling like bacon. A half hour is spent getting dressed for work. Jade knows she spends too much time scrutinizing herself in the mirror, looking for any flaw in her overall appearance. One can never look too beautiful working at Steadman’s.
Steadman’s is a department store but damned if anyone calls it that. To say so out loud is akin to blasphemy. Steadman’s is not Wal-mart or K-mart. Jade doesn’t think Michael Steadman, the owner, knows what a “mart” is. Steadman sells clothes, cosmetics, shoes, purses, and accessories and a miscellany of things at prices so ridiculous Jade wonders why anyone walks through the doors. A pair of stockings can run up to a hundred dollars.
The usual customers are stereotypical society mavens, complete with large hats, sunglasses, and ugly smirks. The veil of respect and goodwill between the salespeople and these women is thin. The clerks see privileged women who look down on them and likely have never worked a day in their lives. The women see young graceless twits who are probably sleeping with their husbands.
There’s a running joke that a successful man can find everything he needs at Steadman’s, even a mistress. The clerks who work the floor are all attractive women in their late teens to late twenties. They’re not just looking for commissions, but also a path to making celebrity fantasies come true. They all want to meet Lucinda Walsh and Barbara Ryan on equal terms, and dream of these women envying them.
It always goes like this: a clerk meets a seemingly nice customer, is given a few gifts and is taken to fancy restaurants. A few months into the affair they disappear for a few weeks. When they return they’re tanned and a few thousand dollars richer, but also bear the mark of the soiled and discarded.
This has never happened to Jade. She’s been through her own variation of this cycle. She was a lot more mercenary than her co-workers, but the end result was the same.
After a year at Steadman’s, Jade was made supervisor of the accessories department. It means less time on the floor and less time with customers. Jade is a great actor but after seven hours she can’t pretend not to notice some man old enough to be her grandfather “accidentally” touching her ass.
Every day Jade goes into work early to get the stations and tills of her department ready. She checks and balances the money accumulated the previous day and meets with the other department heads about the day’s agenda. When the clerks come in, she greets them as civilly as they both allow—the clerks at Steadman don’t view each other as friends but allies and enemies competing for the scarce resource of human meal-tickets.
The rest of the day is spent looking over order forms when she’s not in the backrooms bringing boxes of scarves and jewellery into the department office for recording and pricing. The department manager stops in a little after noon and tells her she’s doing a great job and that she’ll be sure to get a raise very soon. He thinks Jade is like the previous supervisor, so starved for male attention that she’ll happily do her boss’ job as long as he gives her a smile and a pat on the head. Jade gives him the finger when the door closes behind him and decides to take her lunch.
She’s always careful with her money so Jade only eats out at lunch once a week. She chooses today, still fuming from the brief meeting with the manager. While eating her overly decorated ham sandwich, she calls Luke. It’s Monday; he doesn’t have any classes and spends the day at his desk reading heavy textbooks, trying to make sense of the jargon. He uses her calls as an excuse to take a break.
After everything Luke remains her one true friend. She isn’t always good to him. Luke understands that Jade lives her life in survival mode, always making the choice that will bring her food or shelter, even if it means throwing over the only person she loves.
“And what are you studying today?” Jade asks.
“Biology,” he responds. “Totally boring. I now know that scientists are on the cusp of figuring out if the fact that my digging Michael over Michaela might have something to do with how I’m wired.”
Jade rolls her eyes. “I don’t know why people want to figure out that stuff. It makes me think they want to find the reason so they can start fixing people, start making a cure.”
“I bet Damien would try to fix me again if he could.”
“Have you spoken to him recently?” It’s a question Jade asks every once in a while and the answer is always the same.
Damien Grimaldi is a bigoted small-minded ass, but he’s also Luke’s father. It doesn’t sit well that Luke doesn’t know or speak to him. Having no family connections, Jade hates to see severed family ties. Once, her one goal in life was to be a part of a family. She tried to lie her way into the Snyders and when that didn’t work out she tried to create her own family with Will. She knows now that family is a trap she’s escaped. For Luke it’s something better. There’s a bounty of love and good feelings. She believes that with enough time Damien may come to accept his son.
“Enough about him,” Luke says, trying to make his tone light. “This Friday, you and me out on the town. We can stop by Dawn. There’ll be live music.”
“It’s a date. I’m sure Thierry will be tagging along.” She can’t hide the scorn in her voice.
Thierry is Luke’s recent boyfriend. They’ve been dating for a month and Jade can say without hesitation that she hates him. Thierry is possessive and clingy and calls Luke every two hours when he’s out with friends. They’ve had too many fights to even count and were not even past the honeymoon stage of their relationship. Jade will have to do something about him soon, but for now she’ll allow the dysfunction to continue so Luke will not be so careless the next time.
“I guess he’s coming,” Luke says. “I haven’t been spending enough time with him.”
Jade nearly chokes on her sandwich. She coughs for a few moments and tells Luke she swallowed too quickly when he asks if she’s okay.
“I have to get back to work. I’ll see you on Friday.”
Jade keeps on staring at the phone well after Luke hangs up. Getting rid of Thierry would be the best thing for Luke, but he probably wouldn’t see it that way. He’d probably be angry, very angry. He probably wouldn’t speak to her for a few days, maybe even a week. It would be worth it, though. Lily would probably thank her if she ever deigned to climb off her high horse.
After lunch, Jade usually gets lethargic, already anticipating the end of the work day. She uses the few remaining hours to complete the tasks leftover from the morning. When she’s done she leaves the office for the floor. She walks around the counters, sampling the make-up and perfumes and fixing the displays that have been disturbed.
At three-thirty, half an hour before she’s scheduled to leave, there’s a call for a supervisor at the Calvin Klein counter. Jade knows she’ll be dealing with someone young, like herself, or not too much older. It’s only the teenagers or twenty-somethings that ever stay long enough at the counter to need a supervisor. It’s probably because some Paris Hilton/Nicole Richie wannabe wants a discount and the clerk won’t give it to her. She’s probably on the phone to daddy, threatening to have the clerk fired. Jade moves at a snail’s pace, dreading the scene that’s about to occur.
Jade hates being wrong. It’s no Paris Hilton or Nicole Richie aficionado, only Gwen Munson. She suppresses a groan and makes her way behind the counter.
She hasn’t been this close to Gwen since Luke’s last birthday party. Jade’s seen her around town and has made sure to avoid her. Every time Gwen sees her she gets red and words like “liar”, “bitch” and “slut” seem to flow freely like a verse from one of her songs. Gwen’s probably written a dozen songs about her. Knowing the type of woman she is, Jade is sure Gwen’s written two about Will that doesn’t involve hearts, roses and sentiments about finding one’s true love.
“What seems to be the problem?” Jade asks addressing the clerk, Katya, a small dark-haired girl with a light Eastern European accent. She ignores Gwen, who is unsuccessfully trying to hide her shock and anger.
“She says I overcharged her. I didn’t. I’ve looked at the receipt.” Katya sounds confused and unsure of herself. It’s Jade’s cue as to how to play things.
“She charged me twice for the cologne,” Gwen says, annoyed.
Jade looks at the receipt. Katya has charged her twice. She wishes it were different so she could plaster on a smile and tell Gwen to go to hell, politely of course
“Can I have your credit card?” Jade finally looks at Gwen. Their eyes meet and Gwen’s narrows into slits. She angrily takes out her purse and almost slams her Visa on the glass counter.
It’s a simple transaction to do a refund but Jade stretches it out, pretending to make mistakes repeatedly. When it’s over, Gwen is shaking slightly and her face is beet red. Jade thinks of suggesting a concealer and foundation, but doesn’t want to risk a scene.
Gwen doesn’t leave immediately after she’s given back the receipt and proof of the refund. “Well, aren’t you going to apologize?” She doesn’t look at Katya.
“Absolutely not,” Jade replies lightly with a smile.
Gwen scowls and stomps away, muttering under her breath.
Katya’s mouth is open. “You’re not supposed to treat customers like that.”
Jade shrugs.
“She could go to the manager, get you fired or something,” Katya goes on.
Jade shrugs once more. “She won’t. Don’t worry about it.” Another shrug and Gwen is banished from her mind. It helps to know it’s not so easy for the other woman.
“I’m sorry about the mistake,” Katya says earnestly. “I didn’t see it.”
Katya’s been at Steadman’s for six months. She still has some of the softness most workers come in with and quickly lose within the first few weeks. She’s genuinely nice to others. In a place like Steadman’s she’s a breath of fresh air that’s tolerated because, for now, she’s a threat to no one. People have formed attachments to Katya and are sincerely concerned about her when she seems upset or out of her element. Jade is no different. She looks at Katya closely, noting her pale skin and the wrinkles in her blouse.
“Are you okay? You don’t look too well.”
Katya looks like a dear caught in headlights. “I feel alright,” she stutters and gives Jade a nervous smile. “I’m perfectly fine.”
One assurance might be truth; two more likely a lie.
“I’m really fine,” she says in response to Jade’s barely raised brow.
Three is definitely fiction.
Jade doesn’t press. The counter is no place to discuss anything personal. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices the strained ears and curious looks. Katya will come to her in her own time, if she wants. She probably won’t. Katya’s the sort of girl that probably has tons of friends outside the bubble of Steadman’s. They’d probably know how to better take care of her than Jade ever could. Jade’s not the maternal type.
By 4:01 Jade’s outside the glass doors of the store heading for the nearest library. There isn’t much to do after work. Doing something requires money and Jade knows how much she has in the bank down to the cent. She’s always appreciated the library. A guardian’s signature when she was young, a driver’s licence and a recent bill addressed to her now that she’s older and she has access to millions of books, music and videos. Today it’s three trashy chick-lit novels and two DVDs: the Keira Knightley version of Pride and Prejudice and Love Actually. She falls asleep to British accents and dreams she’s somewhere else that feels like the set of a movie she knows will have a happy ending.
Tuesday
Katya doesn’t show up for work. Shelia, who usually works at the Evian counter, has to stand under the “appallingly bad lighting” of the Calvin Klein display and grumbles about it all day.
Jade is concerned, but she isn’t worried for Katya. She’s the type of girl whose cards will always fall into the right place.
By all rights, Jade should hate her. All her life there have been Katyas; girls who always got adopted, who were never abused or had to witness someone else being abused. Adults loved them and bent over backward to please them and give them better lives. There is something about them, something that is missing in Jade. Girls like Katya set her on edge, as she is always aware she is at a disadvantage. Every action is about attempting to level the playing field because there is never any hope of winning. A foster parent would give the girl a toy and Jade would have to steal one. They both had a toy, but while the girl learned to love, Jade learned to survive.
Wednesday
Everything is normal.
Jade’s Monday to Friday routine is unchanged and the weekend is one day closer. She’s standing in the ladies bathroom, pulling a string of floss through her teeth, staring at her reflection. Katya’s in one of the stalls, throwing up her lunch and whatever’s left of her stomach.
Memory is persistent; Jade falls into it. She remembers what it felt like to have her throat burn and to have her stomach constrict repeatedly. She remembers the dizzy spells and the insistent feeling she didn’t own her body anymore. She hated that feeling more than anything.
The toilet flushes and Katya comes out of the stall, wiping her mouth. She looks at Jade in the mirror, eyes apologetic. Jade knows that look. It’s not meant for her.
“I’m—”
“Pregnant.” Jade continues to floss, keeping her eyes on Katya.
“I was going to say fine…and pregnant.”
“Those two don’t go hand in hand, at least not in the early stages.”
“How do you know?”
“I don’t,” Jade says, perhaps a little too firmly.
Katya is silent as she approaches the counter and washes her mouth out with water. Jade passes her a mini bottle of mouthwash from her purse.
Jade watches her, already knowing the story. Some rich man she met at the store, who took her to a fancy hotel where they got loaded up on expensive wine and forgot to use a condom.
When Katya looks up, Jade gives her what should be a sympathetic smile. It doesn’t come off well. Jade’s not used to the emotion.
Katya smiles back, but it doesn’t last long. “I’m not going to have it,” she says. “I can’t afford to have a baby. I still live with my mother. She wouldn’t lift a finger to help me.”
“And the father?”
Katya snorts. “You know the answer. I told him and now he’s avoiding me. I told him I wasn’t going to have it and he still won’t return my calls. I don’t have enough money to get an…” she falters, a wave of emotion threatening to break through her fragile exterior. “I don’t have enough money to get the procedure done.”
Jade stares at herself in the mirror. Physically she looks no different than she did two years ago. The change is in her eyes, they’re harder.
“Don’t worry about it,” she tells Katya abruptly.
“What do you mean?” Katya looks at her like she’s grown a second head.
“I said don’t worry about it. Everything will be fine if you tell me who this guy is.”
A vigorous shake of her head and Katya’s heading for the door. “I can’t. It’s not that I don’t trust you—“
“You don’t trust me, and that’s fine. I’m not going to tell anyone. It’s not about that.”
“You want to help me?” Katya asks sceptically. “Why?”
“I have my own reasons.” Jade intones the words in just the right way, implying an unspoken bond between them.
Katya thinks for a few moments then nods slowly.
“We get off at the same time. Meet me at the front. We’ll go some place and talk.”
Katya nods, reaching for the handle of the door.
Jade watches her go, hoping she’ll show at four o’clock. Katya’s cards will fall into the right place because Jade will help them on their descent. It’s not about doing a good deed or even about doing what’s right. It’s about finally winning.
Thursday
Sean Tamaguchi is an attractive man. He’s twenty-six, tall and handsome with an air of confidence that is only attractive because it borders on arrogance. Like most modern day rakes he’s dressed in clothes that cost more than some make in a month: dark Armani suit, a silk shirt and tie that are shades that can only be achieved by an experienced dyer. Sean has a tailor who specially orders fabric for his shirts and ties from around the world. Jade can tell all this from a brief once-over. Sean is somewhat of a dandy, but that doesn’t mean he’s a pushover. She’ll have to play it carefully for the first ten minutes or so.
The bar at The Lakeview is lit in a way that casts a romantic light on even the most unfortunate looking person. Jade is dressed in her best dress. There’s enough skin showing to catch any man’s attention, but not too much that she comes off like a common whore. She looks like a high-priced call girl at worst. Just the sort of woman a man like Sean is interested in.
He’s on his second vodka on the rocks when she sits next to him and orders a martini. Sean instinctively looks her way and grins to himself. Jade pretends not to notice. If Katya is any indication, Sean likes his women a bit naïve. He likes to be in control. Jade smiles a little. She’s going to enjoy this.
She’s half way through her drink when Sean turns to her and offers a smile. It’s predatory and makes her skin crawl. It excites her just a little bit. If she weren’t here for Katya, she might make a night of it with Sean.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks.
“I’m not finished this one,” she replies.
“Then I’ll wait till you’re finished.” He’s smiling in a way that probably makes a lot of women’s stomach flutter. Jade resists the urge to raise her brow and scoff.
“I didn’t come here to get drunk,” she says.
“To have fun, then?”
Jade smiles, baring her teeth. “Absolutely.”
Sean frowns. There’s something like panic in his eyes, but he doesn’t understand the emotion. “What kind of fun?” he asks cautiously, scrutinizing Jade.
“The kind where I walk out of here with a few thousand dollars.” Jade locks eyes with Sean as she finishes her martini. Her head instantly becomes light but she’s not worried. She’s functioned perfectly well while far more inebriated.
“Do you plan on robbing the place?” Sean shifts in his sit, ready to take off.
“Just you. Well, it’s not really robbing, more like being paid what’s due.”
“What the hell are you going on about? What do you want?” The panic has turned into anger. Jade realizes Sean doesn’t know how to control himself very well. She was looking for a bit more of a challenge.
“Katya sent me,” she says simply.
“For what? Is she trying to blackmail me? No one’s going to believe that baby is mine. You really think anybody’s going to believe that I would sleep with someone like her.” He laughs.
“I think everybody would believe it, but the important people would pretend not to. They’d have to acknowledge their own illegitimate children if they did otherwise. You have to protect your own, isn’t that the motto of you people with all the money.”
“If you know that then what’s the point of coming to me?”
Jade hails the bartender and orders another martini. “Katya doesn’t want the baby. She’s having an abortion. All she wants is for you to pay for it. She’ll go through with it whether or not you pay. But if you don’t I’m going to make sure everyone knows about you forcing her to get rid of her baby. How you threatened and harassed her. Since you started working for your father you’ve made a lot of enemies. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind helping to bring you down a notch. They won’t protect you because they have nothing to lose. There’s no baby and therefore no consequences for abandoning you.”
Sean’s jaws are clenched and a vein pulses in his neck. He doesn’t say anything for a while. “How much?” he finally asks.
“Three thousand,” Jade replies, nonplussed.
“It doesn’t cost that much to get an abortion,” Sean says.
“It doesn’t. It costs about four hundred dollars to have a life sucked out of you and can take about a lifetime to recover. You can spare the money.”
Angry, Sean reaches in his jacket pocket for his chequebook, mumbling under his breath.
“I want cash,” Jade says. “It’s better that way for both of us. There won’t be any detailed record of the transaction.”
“If you want cash you’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”
“No. I want it tonight. I’m pretty sure you have a safe with money and jewels somewhere in your house.”
A sigh of frustration and resignation and Jade knows she’s right about the safe. “Meet me back here in half an hour. No tricks. I make good on my threats.”
A threatening look void of any potency and Sean is off. Jade grins and finishes her second martini. It does feel extremely good to win.
“When you’re smiling it can only mean that someone is probably very unhappy.”
Jade rolls her eyes as Maddie Coleman takes the seat Sean left empty.
“Smurfette, you haven’t grown.” Maddie bristles at the name, but Jade doesn’t give her a chance to speak. “Let me guess, you’re going to go into a whole holier-than-thou rant about me being a liar and a con-artist and how Will and Gwen are better off without me in their lives and blah, blah, blah. I’m not interested. I’ve heard it all before. Get some new material.”
“Only when you get some new material. I saw you with that guy. He looked upset. What were you doing? Lying to him about being pregnant so he can put you up for life or at least for a while until he finds out the truth? It didn’t work with Will, so why do you think it’s going to work again?”
It’s rare for Jade to want to hit someone. Growing up in the system she saw and experienced more violence than most. The majority of the kids she grew up with are either in jail, in gangs, or on the street. Violence begets violence; it was one of the few things the nuns said that made some sense. Jade only uses violence as a last resort. Maddie doesn’t know it but she does have some principles. If only she could abandon them for a moment and show Maddie a fraction of the rage she feels.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about so I suggest you shut up and get the hell away from me.” Jade’s voice is bitterly cold. She’s here and somewhere else. She’s learning again that memory is persistent.
“So are you saying that you didn’t lie to Will? That you didn’t almost cause him and Gwen to break up?”
Jade doesn’t answer. She gets up and starts to leave. She’s sure to let Maddie know it’s not a retreat by meeting her eyes as she turns away.
Of course, with one of the fantastic four being in an area the other three can’t be far behind. As Jade leaves the bar, Casey, Gwen and Will are entering. Gwen and Casey immediately turn red and look ready to start sputtering. Will puts on the clueless and innocuous expression Jade used to believe was cute. He seems to be asking “Who, me?”, perfectly deflecting any criticism or anger. Once more Jade fights the urge to commit an act of violence and storms past them.
There’s a bench in the lobby. Jade drops into it, hurting herself, but the pain doesn’t fully register. The last time she saw Will she nearly stabbed him with a pen. He’d come to Steadman’s to say a few words. He’d spoken for a long time and she’d listened with half an ear, using all her self-control not to lash out at him.
He’d been a bit drunk and repeatedly asked her if they’d done the right thing. He’d wanted an answer and she’d given him nothing. He didn’t deserve it. She’d loved Will at one time. Luke thinks she hadn’t known him enough, but Jade knows what she’d felt. She doesn’t quite hate him yet, but if he keeps on seeking her out she knows at some point she will.
Exactly at the half hour point, Sean enters the lobby. Jade doesn’t wait for him to approach her and he doesn’t wait for her to ask. Everyone in the room is occupied so there is no one to see him give her a bulging manila envelope.
“Is this done?” Sean asked.
“Completely,” she replies, walking away.
)(
Katya is waiting in the parking lot in her old white Toyota. Jade gets in and hands her the envelope.
“That’s more than I need. I wouldn’t have thought to ask him for that much,” Katya says, breathless.
“That’s because you’re too good. Me, on the other hand, I’m something else.” Jade nestles into her seat. She wants nothing more than to go to sleep and forget the last part of the evening happened.
“Thank you so much.” Katya’s earnestness is back. Jade is momentarily jarred. The only person she’s used to speaking to her with any type of gratitude is Luke. She’s long given up on relating on a positive level with anyone.
Time goes by filled with white noise from the radio. Jade is about to fall asleep when Katya speaks. “Why did you do this for me?”
“Because I could,” Jade replies.
Katya laughs. “Most people would have left me to deal with it on my own. You didn’t. It makes me think you’ve been through this before.” Katya speaks hesitantly, afraid of upsetting Jade.
Her reaction is immediate. Surprised and unnerved, she gives Katya a hard look. She’s fully awake now. Katya blushes and looks away.
Jade doesn’t want to say anything, but her brain isn’t in control of her tongue.
“It wasn’t exactly the same. I didn’t plan on getting pregnant, or maybe I did, I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. When I found out I knew I was in no position to be anyone’s mother. I didn’t have a place to live, I didn’t have much money, and the father hated the sight of me. In my head, I wasn’t having a baby, I was having an opportunity. The father was rich and I thought the baby would be a way to get a comfortable life, so I milked it for all it was worth, which wasn’t a whole lot because he wasn’t interested in me or the baby. His wife was more important. I learned that the hard way.”
“Why didn’t you have the baby?”
“A few weeks after telling him I was still in the same position I was in, still broke and homeless. I was digging my own grave. I couldn’t have the baby. Things weren’t so great between the father and his wife because of me, so he suggested I get an abortion. I agreed and to compensate me he gave me a little bit of money, enough to get me on my feet. It was all very mutual.”
“So you did the right thing,” Katya says.
Jade nods.
“So why are you so angry?” The same quiet hesitant tone.
Jade smiles ruefully. “That I don’t want to talk about, if you don’t mind. I don’t even talk about it with my best friend. He gets it but I still don’t want to talk about it.” She’d prefer not to talk at all, but there’s something about Katya that makes her let her guard down just enough to speak, resulting in a small sense of release.
Katya smiles at her, reaches over and squeezes her hand. “Everything will okay.”
Jade’s not sure she’s talking about her, herself or both of them. She likes the comfortable feeling of Katya’s hand on her own, though.
“I know it might be asking too much since you’ve already done so much for me, but I was wondering if you could come to the clinic with me on Saturday?” Katya looks to be holding her breath.
“Sure.” Jade doesn’t have to think about it. This may be an instance of her leaping before she looks, but it’s probably the right thing to do.
)(
It’s a little after ten when Jade gets home. A warm bath and half an hour trying to read a novel and she’s ready to turn in. She’s about to fall asleep when the phone rings. The backlit screen on the portable phone shows Luke’s number.
“You better have a good reason for calling me when you know I have to get up for work tomorrow morning. I need my beauty sleep.”
Luke scoffs. “If it’s beauty you’re after you should take a page out of Sleeping Beauty’s book. A hundred or so years ought to cover it.”
“Screw you, Luke.” Jade laughs. Muscles she’s forgotten are taut begin to soften. “So what’s so important you couldn’t wait until morning to call?”
“Will called me—“
Jade interrupts with a groan, sitting upright in bed. She’s going to need to be fully alert for this conversation.
“He said he saw you at The Lakeview. He’s worried about you.”
Jade snorts.
“He wants to know what’s going on.”
“That’s none of his business.”
“It’s mine, though. So what’s going on? Will is many things but he’s not an idiot.”
“He has his moments,” Jade mutters. She sighs, debating whether or not to tell Luke. She knows what he’ll say and she’d rather not tell him, but it’s not as if he can change her mind. Besides, telling each other things, even things one would rather not share, is what friends do.
“It’s been a weird few days. I’m helping out this girl at work. She’s pregnant and she’s going to have an abortion. I’m going to clinic with her.” It comes out in a rush.
“Jade, you can’t.”
She knows what he means. How is she supposed to be anyone’s moral support when she hasn’t even completely made peace with her own experience? Luke had been with her at the clinic. He’d been the one to help her to what was then home: a flea-ridden motel full of suspect stains. He’d stayed the night with her, holding her. Despite his presence she’d felt utterly alone and abandoned. She’d done the right thing and she had enough money to make some kind of life, but there was no denying the cheapening effect the whole experience left.
“I have to do this, Luke. She asked me and I couldn’t say no. It’s my turn to be you for a day, completely selfless and supporting. I think it’s going to be a nice change.”
“You think you can handle it?”
“I think so. I’ve been in worse situations. Sitting in a waiting room and looking at diagrams of your insides really pales in comparison to sleeping outside in the cold.”
“It might. It might not.”
Jade closes her eyes. She feels a faint ache in her stomach and her legs begin to quiver. It’s sense memory. Her body remembers. If it hadn’t been for Luke she would have taken a year to get from the clinic to the motel. The physical pain was bearable, but persistent.
“It’s your decision,” Luke says, letting out a breath. “Are we still on for tomorrow night?”
“What do you think? A night of drinking and dancing in the middle of all this, how could I pass that up?”
She can tell Luke is smiling. “Goodnight, Jade.”
“Goodnight, Luke.”
Friday
Dawn is the newest club/café in Oakdale. Located in a converted warehouse, it still retains some of its industrial charm. The railings are brushed steel and some of the walls have overlays of corrugated metal. Most of the usual patrons are from the fringes of Oakdale society: the hard rockers, goths, skaters, club kids, and members of the LGBT community. Dawn has been labelled as an “anything goes” type of club and that’s the way Jade likes it. She gets hit on by all types of males and females, a welcome change from the wrinkled hands that touch her at Steadman’s.
When she, Luke and Thierry arrive, a cyber-goth band is on stage and people are moshing on the dance floor. She and Luke only have to give each other a brief look before they link hands and rush to the mosh pit leaving Thierry behind.
An hour later Jade’s heart is thumping against her chest, she’s hot and sweaty, but grinning so hard her face hurts. She and Luke cling to each other as they go to the table Thierry’s been sulking at.
“Did you have a lot of fun?” he asks, frowning at Luke.
“We had a lot of fun,” Jade says, folding her arms. “You could’ve joined us if you wanted to.”
“Not my type of thing,” he replies.
Jade rolls her eyes. She doesn’t know what Luke sees in him. It’s not even as if he’s attractive. Thierry’s hair is dyed an off-putting shade of black that doesn’t compliment his skin. His eyes are too far apart and his mouth is always in a straight line. Jade has never seen him smile, he probably doesn’t know how to.
“I’m going to get a drink. Anyone want anything?”
“Rum and coke,” Luke says.
“I’m fine,” Thierry responds coldly.
Jade shoots him a look. He and Luke won’t make it until the end of the month. She’ll make sure of it. They start to argue as she leaves.
Jade takes a seat at the bar, watching Thierry and Luke. As usual, Thierry is making grand hand gestures to get his point across and Luke is giving him that incredulous look that only serves to make Thierry even angrier. It would be entertaining if Luke weren’t her best friend.
The argument lasts a long time. By the time it ends, the ice has melted in Luke’s rum and coke and Jade is on her second Bacardi Ice. It looks as if the only thing they’ve agreed on is to stop arguing. Thierry looks put out and Luke appears exhausted and annoyed. He leaves Thierry at the table and joins Jade at the bar.
“I should dump him, shouldn’t I?” he says.
“If you don’t I will.”
“I keep hoping things will get better.”
“That’s because you’re hopeless. Sometimes you have to let go.”
A few hours go by and Jade is drunk on the music and alcohol. Her muscles ache from dancing too much, but that’s inconsequential. She feels happy enough to dance the whole night away. Luke, on the other hand, is tired and steers her back to their table. Thierry is still there, scowling. He hasn’t moved the entire night except to go to the bar and the bathroom.
As Jade nears the table, she notices the way the air changes. There’s a tension that wasn’t there before and has nothing to do with Luke or Thierry. She looks around and immediately spots Will. He’s near the wall a few feet away from their table. She stops walking and Luke does too when he sees Will.
“I need some air,” Jade says, pulling away from Luke.
She doesn’t need this right now. If Will is here then Gwen can’t be far behind. Dawn is the last place Will Munson would come to alone.
“I’ll come with you,” Luke says.
Jade shakes her head. “I need to be alone, just for a bit.”
Luke nods and reluctantly lets her go.
There’s a warm breeze outside. Jade walks to the parking lot and takes a seat on the concrete pavement at the side of the building. Her legs are shaking.
She’s seen Will twice in two days. It’s a record and proof some higher being hates her. She doesn’t understand why this is happening now. Things were coming to a head, it seemed. But to what end?
“Jade.” Will says her name carefully, as if he’s afraid he might scare her.
“You know, the whole point of me leaving was so I could get away from you.” She doesn’t look at him.
“I figured as much.”
“Then go away.”
“Not until we talk.”
She looks up at him, annoyed and incredulous. “You want to talk to me?”
Two years ago she’d tried in vain to contact him. She’d resorted to sending messages through Luke, but he never had anything to say in return. Now Jade’s supposed to sit back and give Will a privilege he’d never allowed her.
“Look, I know things between us are messed up, but—“
“But what? What the hell do you care about what things are like between us? Since we slept together you’ve made it pretty clear that you’d rather see me dead than anywhere near you.”
“It’s not like that, Jade.”
“Oh, now you’re going to tell me you care about me.” Sarcasm comes easy and hides her anger.
“Of course I care about you. You were the mother of my child.”
Jade is so shocked she is unable to speak. She rises slowly and begins to pace, unable to contain her energy.
“The mother of your child?” she yells when she regains her voice. “When the hell did I become that, because I certainly wasn’t when I was pregnant? I was just Jade, the gold-digging whore trying to trap you.”
“You were trying to trap me.”
“Yeah, I was, so don’t try and sentimentalize me. I’m not Gwen. I don’t need you putting a goddamned halo on my head. What the hell are you doing, Will, trying to make yourself feel better?”
“No, it’s not about that. Look, I’m sorry okay. I didn’t do things right back then and I apologize.”
His expression is earnest. Although Will may believe his own words, Jade doesn’t. She stops pacing and looks at him squarely. “What exactly are you apologizing for?”
“For leaving you, for letting you do it all on your own.”
For the second time Jade is speechless. Her eyes narrow and she begins to move like a large cat on the prowl. She begins to shake her head and a few seconds later laughter escapes from her lips. She can’t contain it. It consumes her and makes her sides hurt.
“This isn’t funny,” Will cries.
“You’re damn right this isn’t funny,” Jade yells back, the laughter giving way to a rising anger. She feels it in her chest; it’s constricting her heart. She’s begun to hate him.
“After all this time you want to apologize. Fuck you, Will. Fuck you.” She stops her manic pacing. “Your apology doesn’t mean a thing to me. You promised me you were going to be there with me. I got to the clinic and I waited for you. We created something together and you couldn’t bother to come because you had to go help Gwen take care of a hangnail or something. I was nothing to you and neither was that baby. You didn’t feel guilty when you blew me off, you didn’t care then. I bet you thought you were doing the right thing and no one could blame you. Now you want a medal for suddenly getting a conscious after the fact when it’s so convenient for you. How very privileged of you, Will.
“The worst thing is that I did what I did for myself, but I also did it for you. I lied for you and let everybody think the worst of me. All I got from you was a few grand and the cold shoulder. Then you come and ask me if we did the right thing, trying to fool yourself into thinking that you actually care. And your wife,” Jade laughs, “every time she sees me she gets this look on her face as if I’m less than the thing at the bottom of her shoe. There have been so many times that I’ve wanted to scream at her and tell her that if it weren’t for me she wouldn’t be living such a charmed life. She owes me and she doesn’t even know it.”
Katya asked Jade why she was so angry. There is the reason. It isn’t that she’d had the abortion; it is the feeling of being discarded and abandoned. She should’ve been used to it by now. She’s always guarded against getting into situations that would result in such a feeling, but she hadn’t been careful with Will. She’d seen that awkward sensitive boy and had thought him incapable of hurting her. She’d believed that if Will hurt anyone it would be unintentional. Will didn’t have any malice in him. Jade had believed she would be safe with him and all she needed to do was find an in. She’d attached all her hopes and dreams to him and he’d proved all her assumptions wrong. Unassuming Will Munson was just as much a self-centered manipulator as she was. Like her, he was trying to survive, holding on to the only person that made him feel special and safe. She was angry with him, but more so with herself for allowing herself to be fooled.
Another short breeze and goosebumbs begin to rise on Jade’s skin. Her body temperature has been regulated and she’s no longer warm. She can feel Will’s persistent gaze on her. She turns away and rests her head on the wall.
“I really am sorry,” Will says.
Jade grunts in reply.
Will turns to leave. He begins to walk but stops abruptly. “Gwen.” Her name comes out like a high-pitched squeak, making Jade laugh.
The arguing starts and Jade debates whether or not to stay. She decides to go and starts walking to the opposite end of the building. She doesn’t give a damn what happens between Gwen and Will. It feels good.
end