Bunches (16 page)

Two weeks have gone by. It’s been
two weeks since I kissed Nora. She sent me one text, telling me she needs a
little time to think everything through and she’s hoping I’ll wait.

“I’ll wait forever,” I mutter to
myself, but what I actually wrote to her was something a little less
terrifying. I told her to just come by the Remember when she’s ready to talk. I
figure giving her a public place to see me might make her more comfortable, and
it wouldn’t feel like a date. I know she’d be glad about that because of how
recently Jessie and I ended it.

Every night I go to the Remember
hoping that tonight’s the night she’ll come in. She hasn’t. It’s ruining my
mood. I have trouble concentrating and I’m short with customers.

Tonight is no different, but I
have a lot on my mind. I got a late invitation to Amelia Rockwell’s wedding, an
event that I know must be hard for Nora. She and the Rockwells aren’t on good
terms. I wish I could talk to her about it. I wish a lot of things.

“Pay attention,” Lila cries. I’ve
come to a full stop behind the bar, and she can’t get by. Lila is covered in
tattoos, and she doesn’t put up with fools. I give her a wide-eyed look. In
response she puts her hand on my chest and gently pushes me out of the way.

“You have lady trouble,” she
says. “You should work on that.”

“Yeah,” I say dryly, glaring at
her, “I should work on my ‘lady trouble.’”

She just grins at me.

“The Black Jack is hosting a CD
launch party tonight,” the taller of the two women tell me. “You should go over
with us.”

I’m so surprised I momentarily
don’t know what to say. My mind is so far away from partying or meeting women
that I can’t even make the idea compute.

“I would love to,” I say, just to
be nice, “but I’m working tonight.”

“Clearly,” she says, giving me a
lusty smile. I just nod and walk again. She pouts, but I know she’ll stay for a
while. It will get more interesting after she’s had a couple more drinks.

I sigh and start taking glasses
out of our massive dishwasher. It’s one of the things we really have to stay on
top of. They can’t pile up or no one will have anything to drink out of.

“JJ,” a voice calls from behind
me. Instantly the tension in my shoulders eases. Lizzy’s here. I turn around to
see her and Aimee standing next to Sylvan, who has moved over a little to make
room for them and is looking at Lizzy. Until that moment I’ve had no idea how
Sylvan feels about Lizzy, but the way he’s looking at her, with large, intent,
happy eyes, makes me start to wonder. Shaking off questions about my best friend’s
romantic interests, I pivot and hurry over to my friends.

“Hi,” says Aimee, waving.
“Thought we’d stop in.”

She must see the question written
all over my face.

“Ummm, actually Nora’s over at
the Black Jack,” she says quietly. In the side of my vision Sylvan’s head snaps
around, his eyes wide with surprise. Aimee looks anxious, and I don’t really
know what to say. It’s like I’ve been punched in the stomach.

“She went with one of her
co-workers, who asked her a long time ago,” says Lizzy, obviously needing to
fill the silence. I just nod.

“Is her co-worker male?” Sylvan
growls. Lizzy swats playfully at him.

“She didn’t want to sit at this
bar with another guy,” says Aimee. “She thought it’d be weird.”

Great, everyone knows what’s
going on between us.

“She’s going to text me, because
she wasn’t expecting to have a great time and I told her that I’d be here.”

“And here you are,” says Sylvan,
smiling up at her. “Want my seat?”

“I think those two are leaving
soon,” I say, nodding toward the two guys sitting next to Sylvan, who are about
to pay their bill. Lizzy and Aimee order drinks and I go to get them. My mind
is a jumble of feelings. I’m frustrated, because I want to see Nora. I’m hurt
that she’d go to my rival’s bar, and I have no control whatsoever over my
emotions.

I have no defense against the
pain and worry coursing through me.

I turn around and go back to talk
to Lizzy.

“You should get her out of the
Black Jack,” I say. I have to lean over the bar and yell to be heard. She’s
looking at me like I’m crazy.

“It’s not safe,” I explain
further.

She shrugs. “Nothing bad’s ever
happened there. I mean, some bar fights, but those happen everywhere.”

“They’re short-lived here,” says
Sylvan menacingly. Lizzy smiles and tosses her hair.

“I’m just saying, I think it’ll
be okay. I’m sure she’ll come here afterward,” says Lizzy.

“Not necessarily,” says Aimee.
“He might offer to walk her home.”

I bristle again. Lizzy notices,
but Aimee keeps talking. Nora must have told Lizzy I kissed her. I know I
shouldn’t have, because of Jessie and because of Nora’s fragile state, not to
mention my own, but I’ve thought of nothing else since. Whenever I’m having a
bad moment, a bad anything, I think of my lips on hers and it all melts away.

“He’s a really nice guy. Mark. I
like guys named Mark.,” Aimee rattles on. “There’s something solid and
trustworthy about them. And he really seems to like Nora. I hope he offers to
walk her home, but then there’s always the stress of will he or won’t he make a
move, and all I can say is that he better not.” She pauses to fluff her hair.
“Nora deserves better than a guy who wants to hook up on the first date.”

“Is it hooking up if it’s a
date?” Lizzy asks. She’s trying to distract Aimee from talking about this Mark
guy, but Aimee isn’t having it.

“She just needs a good guy. A
dependable guy.”

“Isn’t that what all women want?”
Sylvan asks dryly.

“Well, I suppose,” says Aimee. “I
do think some women want a sense of adventure. A guy who will sweep her off her
feet.”

“I gotta go help customers,” I say.
The tightening in my chest is threatening to snap me apart. Of course Nora
deserves a trustworthy guy, and I’ve been everything but. Still, Aimee’s words
sting. Once you realize you can’t live without someone, you desperately want to
know that she can’t live without you, because otherwise you’ll die. The waiting
period is torture.

The night moves and shifts. We
dim the lights. More customers come, until we’re three deep at the bar. There
are four of us working tonight. When I first owned the bar I did it all. I ran
the place, I bartended, I even worked as a waiter. Now the Remember is
successful enough so that I don’t have to do it all every night, but I still
like to bartend. Most customers are regulars and they know I own the place, so
if they have a problem they can see me and talk to me about it. I see who’s
coming in, and if it’s drunks from the Black Jack I can help Ben or whoever is
bouncing deal with them.

“JJ!” Sylvan and Lizzy are both
yelling my name. I turn around and move away from four girls who were about to
order drinks. Lila can help them. Lizzy is waving to me frantically.

“It’s Nora,” she says. “There’s a
fight at the Remember.”

I don’t even think about it. I
break into a run.

Okay, so I know what I’m doing is
stupid. I shouldn’t be going out with Mark, not when my emotions are all so
confused, but I still know for sure that I don’t have any for him. Love,
caring, it’s supposed to make you feel things. Happiness, comfort, relief, etc.
Sometimes when you love and care about someone, you also feel emotions like
worry. I know my mom feels that about me. I feel nothing for Mark. I just want
to distract myself from JJ.

I look at him. He’s cute enough.
Aimee calls him a nerdy cute, but of course she likes the football player type,
which he definitely isn’t. I’m a little nervous, because the Black Jack, far
more than the Remember, is a sports bar. All the guys in here are big and burly
and drunk. Mark is drunk, but none of the rest of it.

This might not have been the best
choice, even if I was trying to get my mind off of the kiss with JJ and how my
lips felt scorched.

To deal with my embarrassment, I
have another drink.

Then I have a third. After
Michael died I had real trouble eating for a while. I got help and I’m fine,
but I still don’t weigh much. When Lizzy calls me a featherweight she isn’t
really kidding. I can’t handle much alcohol, and I’ve already had too much.

“You should stop,” says Mark, his
eyes concerned. He’s a nice guy. I couldn’t care less.

I take another sip. “Whatever,” I
say. “I’m having a good night.”

Mark sits back and frowns at me.

“You okay?”

No, no I’m not, but Mark is not
the guy I want to talk to about it. I want to talk to JJ. But I can’t because I
didn’t go to his bar. Instead I thought it’d be a good idea to go on a date to
his rival bar.

“Lizzy said you might be upset
tonight, because a friend of yours died five years ago?” Mark asks, still
squinting at me with concern.

I briefly close my eyes and wish
I could slap Lizzy. Why, oh why, would she tell an almost stranger about
Michael?

“Yeah,” I say, because I can’t
express in words how painful it is. I take another drink. Mark nods
sympathetically. “My grandmother died when I was three,” he says. “I was pretty
upset.”

“That’s awful,” I say. I mean it,
but it isn’t the same thing.

“Want to get out of here?” he
asks.

“And go where?” I answer his
question with one of my own. I can feel my head getting fuzzy. It’s harder to
concentrate on his words.

“Anywhere,” he says. His eyes
haven’t left mine.

“Um,” I say, frowning. “Maybe
not? I want to keep drinking.”

I look at my glass. It’s still
half full, but it’s my third and I’ve been drinking them quickly.

Mark leans away from me,
frowning.

“Hey buddy, watch it,” says a
voice from behind me. Unfortunately for Mark, and as it would turn out me, my
date just knocked into a very large man.

When he swings out of Mark’s way
he nearly bumps into me. I grab my drink to save it from being tipped over and
nearly fall off my stool. My face burns with embarrassment as I try to right
myself.

“What the hell, man?” Mark yells.
The big guy and I both stare at him.

The guy’s beefy arms are covered
with tattoos and his neck looks like a thick roll of sausage. He’s much larger
than any of the football players who introduced themselves to us at the
Remember.

“You ran into me,” says Mark,
nearly yelling in his drunken state. I have no idea what he thinks he’s doing.
Mark isn’t small, but he’s no match for this guy.

I gulp as the big guy turns
around to glare. Getting a good side view of his neck, I see that he has a
tattoo that says, “Born to die hard.”

I give Mark a nervous look.
“We’re sorry,” I say, grabbing Mark by the arm. “In fact, we’re going to head
out now.” I tug on Mark’s arm, but my date won’t budge.

“No,” says Mark. “He needs to
apologize to you.”

“I need to what?” The big guy
steps forward, getting in Mark’s face. Unfortunately, Mark doesn’t take the
hint.

“I’m sorry he’s terribly sorry
for almost touching me,” I say dryly. “Now let’s go.”

I throw some money down on the
table and start to pull Mark away. At least he comes this time, but the guy is
staring after us. Now I see that he’s with several friends, most of whom are
almost as big as he is.

Now that I’m trying to walk, it’s
clear that I’m not at all sober. I stumble a bit, but I manage to land on my
feet and grab the edge of the bar for support.

All of the big guy’s friends are
now moving, and I realize we aren’t going to get to the door in time.

“Why are you pulling me away?”
Mark asks. “I’m coming to your rescue.”

“We’re going to need to rescue
you in a minute,” I say breathlessly.

“Where you going?” the big guy
yells.

“Leave ‘em be, Evan,” I hear
another guy yell.

“Home,” I say over my shoulder.
“We’re going home.”

“You do that,” yells Evan, with six
of his friends at his back.

I’ve never been so terrified in
my life. “Don’t let me see you back here or I won’t let you walk out so easily
next time.”

Everyone in the bar is now
staring at us, which is bad enough, but it’s even worse because I’m having a
hard time focusing on what the guy is saying.

I’m also having a hard time
walking in a straight line to the door.

Mark takes my hand. I try to pull
out of his grip, but he tightens his hold. “I’ll protect you,” he says. I don’t
feel right holding Mark’s hand. It’s uncomfortable. I don’t know what to do
with my fingers, and his palms are sweaty.

“I doubt it,” I say. “I don’t
think it’s me they’re mad at.”

I don’t know that for a fact,
because I feel very vulnerable at the moment, but in my fuzzy head all I want
is for Mark to understand the danger he must be in.

The guys are getting closer to
us, and I’m shrinking away. Mark is still oblivious when the front door of the
Black Jack bursts open.

My knees go weak from relief at
the sight of JJ standing there. Both Ben and Sylvan are behind him.

JJ’s eyes are wild until they
land on me. He strides forward, and I swear I’ve never seen a more beautiful
man. He has broad shoulders, and the slight sway to his hips is sexy as hell.
In my drunken state I don’t even know that I’m staring. I just do.

He might be smaller than the guy
with no neck, but I’d pick him over Evan in a fight any day.

JJ walks right up to us and
points at Mark.

“Let go of her hand. Now,” he
says. No one in the bar is saying a word, but the music is still playing, so he
has to raise his voice to be heard.

Somehow I feel like I’ve done
something wrong that I should apologize for, but I don’t know what. I just
stand there while Mark doesn’t let go of my hand.

“Why?” Mark asks.

“Let go of her hand or I’ll make
you let go of it,” says JJ, taking a step forward. Mark shrinks away from him a
bit.

“Hey JJ,” yells Evan. “If you
don’t beat him up I will.”

“Can we just call this one even,
Evan?” JJ asks, talking over my head. I guess he knows Evan. Somehow that
shouldn’t surprise me.

I turn around and see Evan give a
large shrug. “Whatever you want, man,” he says.

“Come on,” says JJ to me. He
reaches out his hand and I don’t hesitate. I release Mark’s hand and take JJ’s.
It’s warm and comforting. Mark looks lost as JJ pulls me away.

JJ steps up to me and cradles my
face in his hands. He looks into my eyes and, in front of every person in the
bar he says in a gruff voice, “Are you okay?”

I nod. “Yeah,” I say. “I’m
sorry.”

His eyes soften, making heat rush
through my blood.

“For what?” he murmurs. He’s
gently rubbing my cheekbones with his thumbs, and it’s making it hard to think.

“I have no idea,” I say honestly.

He nods sympathetically.

“Come on,” he says, “we can talk
outside.”

But the last of my strength has
been used up just standing there. JJ notices my hesitation and wraps a strong
arm around my waist, cradling me close. Ben and Sylvan make way for us as he
leads me out the doors.

“You shouldn’t have come here,”
says some guy standing nearby, but I don’t have the energy to turn.

JJ nods to the bouncers and
pushes the door open. I take a deep breath as the cool night air hits me in the
face.

“Why’s it called the Remember?” I
ask. I snuggle closer into my blankets. Sleep is taking over my eyelids and
insisting they close, but I’m putting up a good fight. My head feels funny and
all the pain inside me has dulled to a distant ache. I feel JJ’s hands rubbing
my back, small circles of heat sparking in the places he touches.

I hear pleasure in his voice as
he answers, and I’m ridiculously happy that I’m the one making him happy . . .
especially after my super embarrassing behavior tonight.

“My grandfather named it,” he
murmurs. “He refused to tell me at first, but eventually he did. I informed him
that if I was taking the place over I had to know how it got its name, and he
relented.”

“I’d relent too if you wanted
something from me,” I say. Must be drunk. Wow, how could I fall so far?

“It was right before he died. We
were talking one night and it was late, but he wasn’t tired.”

I’m not looking at JJ, but he
continues to rub my back as his voice takes on a distant quality.

“He was more lucid than I’d seen
him in a long time and he wanted to talk,” he continues.

“I wish I’d met him,” I say.
“Know what all the fuss is about.”

JJ chuckles. “He would have liked
you.”

I flush with pleasure, or maybe
that’s from his gentle touch. I open my eyes to look at him, but they feel dry
and scratchy so I close them again.

“Anyway,” says JJ, “my
grandfather starts talking and he says that the best moments in life are never
moments at all. They don’t just make you happy for a few hours and then fade
into the background. They make you happy for days, years, decades, a lifetime,
and forever. You have to remember and cherish them and treat them like they’re
the sacred objects they are. Like the people you love; never let them fade
away.”

“What if people you love don’t
love you back?” I ask. I’m so relaxed I barely know what I’m saying.

“If you love someone and they
don’t love you back then it wasn’t real love to begin with,” says JJ. “My
grandfather always thought that was obvious.”

“I think that’s nice,” I say.
“But I don’t think that’s all there is,” I murmur. “I think when he gave that
name - to a bar no less - he was thinking of something, or maybe someone
specific.”

“Maybe,” JJ whispers it very
close to my ear, but I’m too tired.

“Goodnight,” I say. It’s the last
word out of my mouth.

“Goodnight, Nora,” he whispers
back. “Sweetest of dreams.”

I wake up in the morning with a
massive headache. Barely opening my eyes, I look at my nightstand. There’s a
glass of water and a bottle of aspirin. I’m never drinking again in my life.

Gingerly I take the glass of water
and drink the whole thing, only pausing at the end to open the bottle and
swallow a pill. I see a black and white blur moving toward me and Snick wanders
in, gives me a disapproving look, and wanders away again.

“I’m right there with you,
Snick,” I mutter. After the water I feel better enough to sit up.

It’s only then that I fully open
my eyes . . . and yelp. There’s a body lying next to me in my bed. I thought it
was just extra pillows. Hell, I don’t even know what I thought. I drank too
much last night. That hasn’t happened, well, ever. This summer seems to be
piling up the new experiences.

JJ rolls over and opens one eye
to examine me.

“Hey,” he says, his voice only
slightly thick from sleep. “You have a very nice cat. Mine should take
lessons.”

“Uhh,” I say. “What are you doing
in my bed?”

“Tap dancing,” he says. “Isn’t it
obvious?”

“Cats don’t give lessons,” I say
sagely. JJ chuckles.

I pause and close my eyes, trying
to remember the night. Everything comes back to me slowly and I remember going
into the Remember and making a total fool of myself in front of my friends. Oh
man, oh dear, ohhh shit. How could I? I remember JJ getting into a fight with
someone about me and then insisting on bringing me home. There’s a good chance
Sylvan drove us back to my place in his squad car.

I cover my face with my hands. I
want to die.

Two large strong hands, which I
have already spent way too much time in my life staring at, take hold of my
wrists. Instead of calming my frantically racing pulse, the gesture only serves
to ignite it further.