Part 14 (1/2)
”Did you forget, Ms. Emo, that you gave me the key and the code to your place after the robbery?”
”I didn't realize that you'd put it to devious use.”
”Man, you look like c.r.a.p! Have you looked in the mirror, girl?”
”If you came here to make me feel better, it's not working.”
”Enough with the cutesy banter, outta bed now!” She rips back the covers, storms into the bathroom and turns on the shower. She returns, grabs my arm, and drags me out of bed.
”You are one pushy broad,” I grumble, as I shove her aside and walk to the bathroom.
I have to admit the hot shower feels good, and I scrub my skin until I'm flushed pink like a newborn. When I'm done, I dry off and get dressed in my most comfortable jeans and T-s.h.i.+rt.
Jess stands by the window and looks deep in thought. As soon as she hears me, she snaps back to reality. ”Okay, let's go.”
She drags me down to her car and drives to Hugo's Restaurant. ”Let's get some healthy food in you,” she says, as the hostess leads us to our table.
After we place our order, I finally ask, ”How much of the story do you know?”
”I had dinner with Max last night.”
”You know about Jonathan?”
”Yeah, I'd like to beat the s.h.i.+t out of him right now. If I'd known he was married, I would never have pushed you to go out with him. Whatever happened to married people wearing their f.u.c.king wedding rings? It would really make all of our lives simpler.”
”I know. He never mentioned whether he'd ever been married, but I a.s.sumed if he had been, he'd be divorced now. I should've had him categorize his collection of women.”
”Categorize...hah! Yeah, Max wants to categorize and kick his sorry a.s.s.”
I wait for her to elaborate, but she looks at the menu instead.
Impatient for more, I ask, ”What else did Max say?”
”He's worried and doesn't know how to help you.”
”I don't want him to feel like he has to help me. Isn't it funny how quickly the tides can turn. We were so worried about him only a few weeks ago, and now you guys are worried about me.”
”Yeah, but I'm really proud of him, Ava. He seems to be on the right path now. He's trying to turn his life around.”
”I think you're right. Brian said he didn't even go to that opening at the museum last week with all the models and actresses.”
”Yeah, he told me he's done with all that s.h.i.+t. No more art groupies. Thinks he wants something more now.” She watches me carefully.
The waitress brings us our food, and I take a bite of my tofu and vegetable scramble.
”But enough about Max. What about you? How long will this emo thing last? I mean, that married f.u.c.ker was only good for hot dirty talk, freaky s.e.xual encounters, and career advancement. It's not like he was your soul mate or anything. You're just p.i.s.sed because he played you, so why don't you get angry and get over it?”
I laugh. It's the first time I've smiled since the party. ”So, what do you think, Jess? I can't tell how you feel about this situation.”
”I think it's time to get out of town. Max and I are taking you to Santa Fe next week for the art fair. I've already worked it out with Adam. It's going to be great.”
”You worked it out with Adam?”
”Yup, and Max got you a plane ticket with his miles. And my friend Mich.e.l.le has offered to share her room, since her girlfriend can't make it. Her company is paying for her room, so it'll be free for you. You just have to cover your food.”
”You sure are a get-it-done kinda gal, Jess. And I really appreciate it, but what if I don't want to go?”
”Oh, you're going. We're gonna have a great time. You'll see.”
I'm not sure whether to feel grateful or p.i.s.sed off, so I quietly eat my lunch and listen to stories about her previous travels to Santa Fe.
Next, the wild woman drags me to the art store. While she shops for supplies, I wander around and marvel at the wall of markers in every hue, sliding shelves full of exotic handmade papers, and enough paint brushes to supply an army of Pica.s.sos. I almost wish I were an artist so I could play with all this cool stuff.
Jess takes her full basket to the register, and when we get to the car, she hands me a box.
”A gift for you.” She winks.
It's a h.e.l.lo Kitty paint-by-numbers kit. It's as if the best of my worlds have collided, and I squeeze her in appreciation.
I examine the kit carefully. The age restriction is four years old and above, due to the simplicity of the design and the thick black lines to contain the wandering little paintbrushes. ”I think I can handle this. Thanks, Jess.”
On the way home, Jess takes a call on her Bluetooth, so I turn my cell phone back on, and it practically explodes with messages. I ignore my voicemail and text Max, since I'm sure he's wondering how I'm doing.
Jess just dragged me out to lunch. I was mad, but it was a good thing.
I'm glad. How are you doing?
A little better. She bought me a paint-by-numbers kit I'll tackle when I get home.
Maybe it will end up in my painting.
I doubt it...it's h.e.l.lo Kitty, I respond.
That bigheaded cat? You're right...I don't think so.
If I do a nice job, I'll give it to you for your birthday, I tease.
Gee thanks. BTW what time do I pick you up for Harry Potter Wed?
How about 11?
10 and we can have a late dinner.
We pull up to my apartment. I send one last text to Max.
OK 10 it is-Gotta go-talk to you later.
His response makes me smile.
Good-bye, Kitty.