Steel & Ice (19 page)

I parked in the back of the lot by an alley
that ran between the hall and a building next to it. I did this
strategically so I could smoke a cigarette without anyone seeing
me. I rolled the window down and let the Monte warm up a bit. I
took in my surroundings. It was natural for me to scan the scene
around me, making sure everything was cool. Years on the street had
made it second nature to me. I heard something in the alley and saw
three guys walking out of it. I ducked down in the Monte
instinctively. The three guys stopped at the edge of the alley. Two
of them did one of those handshakes only guys seem to know, and one
walked back towards the doors of the hall while the other two went
the opposite direction. I sat up a little bit to see who was going
inside.

Fuck. It was Fernie.

******

Chris and I had agreed to forgo Eight Oh
Eight that night and spend the evening with Aaron at Dynasty, his
favorite gay bar. Christmas was Monday and none of us were really
looking forward to it. I was working Sunday brunch the next morning
and I knew it would be killer since it was Christmas Eve, so I told
Chris I would drive myself and meet up with them when I got done
with the center Christmas party.

Driving to the bar I looked at the joint I
had rolled, planning to smoke it on the way to Dynasty. I couldn’t
get Fernie out of my head. I didn’t know what he was doing in that
alley, but I knew it was not on the up and up. Very likely drugs
were involved. I never felt bad about smoking weed. I had tried
coke and acid once each when I was a teen and didn’t like it. I had
eaten magic mushrooms a few times, but kinda freaked out the last
time, so I hadn’t done them in three years. I viewed marijuana like
alcohol. It was OK in moderation and if you were responsible about
it. How would I rationalize to Fernie that it was OK for me to
smoke marijuana, periodically sell marijuana when the budget
dictated, and consort with all sorts of people engaged in a variety
of illegal activities in efforts to get my marijuana? How could I
do that and then tell him not to? Because I was an adult? I wasn’t
when I started getting high. Because I was responsible? Same
answer. I wasn’t responsible when I was thirteen and smoking weed.
I had gotten my shit together because I refused to end up back at
my parents’ house. I refused to let my mother see me fail. After
some of the shit I lived through, it also just made me wise up. But
there was no way to know what Fernie was into and if he was
responsible about it. I wanted to give him the benefit of the
doubt, but the pessimist in me kept rearing her ugly head.

I pulled up to the bar and saw Chris’ car. I
left the joint and went inside. A stiff drink was in order and I
needed to do it now so I wasn’t driving home hammered in two hours.
That was my curfew I’d decided. I didn’t have it in me to deal with
Sunday brunch on Christmas Eve with grumpy cooks (as they
inevitably would be) while nursing a hangover. The guys would more
than likely not have the foresight to plan like me. Undoubtedly,
they would be getting drunk that evening thus coming to work the
next morning all shades of grouchy. Then it would be up to me to
keep the kitchen going and food moving despite their crankiness.
Yeah, I needed to be 100% for the next day.

“
Over here!” Chris yelled to
me from a spot at the bar. I moved through the masses to get to
her. It was packed! She pulled her coat and purse off the chair
next to her. “Finally. I’ve been fighting Queens off this chair all
night!”

“
Where is Aaron?” Chris gave
me the look. The
you know right where he
is look
. “How long has he been in
there?”

“
Ten minutes. Give him ten
more before we blow up his phone.” Aaron was in the bathroom,
definitely having sex and potentially snorting a line of coke as
well. “How was the party?”

I shrugged. “It was OK.”

“
Just OK?”

“
Yeah. I’m not really in the
mood to dissect it,” I told her. I really wasn’t. I was tired, not
looking forward to Sunday brunch that just happened to fall on the
24
^th
of
December, and I certainly wasn’t looking forward to Christmas with
my mother. “What’s up with Cup Booty?” I asked her.

“
Devon? I actually hung out
with him Wednesday. He’s cool. His mom is black and his dad is
white but his dad isn’t around. He’s twenty-five and a
plumber.”

“
He lay the pipe again?” We
both laughed at my lame yet hysterical sexual pun.

“
Hell yeah! Twice. And it’s
good,” Chris said all smiles. “What’s up with J?”

“
It’s all good I guess. He
gave me this.” I shrugged and thrust my wrist forward.

Chris grabbed my hand and
gasped. “This is so not shrugging material, Eleanor. What the fuck?
Why are you acting like this is no big deal. He
made
you a bracelet with your guys’
names, which both are letters, on it. Dude, you know this is a big
fucking deal!”

I pulled my hand back. “And this is why I
didn’t want to tell you.” I could tell Chris was hurt. “It’s not
like that Chris. I know it’s a big deal, and it scares the fuck out
of me how I feel about him, so I can’t get all riled up or I might
explode. I’m just taking it one day at a time.” Chris seemed to
simmer down after my explanation.

“
What does J stand for?” I
retold the story J had told me in bed about how he got his name and
that the J came from his middle name, Jesus. I also told her he was
indeed a savior as he had saved me from a sexual drought the size
of the Sahara. “That’s so cool. He’s all mystical ‘n shit like
you.” I rolled my eyes at her. “What does he do?”

I shrugged my shoulders again. “I honestly
don’t know. I’m pretty sure his shit ain’t all on the up and up,
and at this point, I don’t want to know. I’ve asked, sorta
nonchalant style but he always starfishes me.”

“
Starfish?” I explained
starfish to Chris. “So you came up with it, but he uses it too?
Don’t you want to know what he is doing in St. Louis and what he
does all day here?”

“
Yeah, but if I push, then I
can’t use starfish, and I am not ready to lay it all out there. So
I kinda gotta just roll with it for now.”

“
He rides a motorcycle you
said?” I nodded.

“
A Suburban when it’s cold
like now.”

“
And you said he had a
leather vest on when you first saw him?”

I nodded again. “Yeah, but not all the
time.” Chris raised her eyebrows at me, watching the realization
cross my face.

“
Fuck Elle, you are the
queen of smutty motorcycle club romance books. I can’t believe you
didn’t put it together.”

“
It doesn’t fit the book
shit though. He doesn’t wear his cut all the time, and I haven’t
seen or heard anything about a clubhouse. I haven’t really even met
any of his friends, except maybe Rock, the DJ at Eight Oh
Eight.”

“
Maybe it has something to
do with St. Louis. It’s only a couple hours from here. And it
explains why he’s at Eight Oh Eight.” I looked at her, confused.
“You know, like maybe the boss man owes the club money and J is
sent to beat it out of him. Or maybe he supplies the boss man
something. Or maybe he is the boss man.”

“
Wait wait wait. I can’t
handle all this. This is exactly why I am not asking too many
questions. One of my Mom’s few pearls of wisdom was…”

Chris cut me off and finished, as she was
well acquainted with all my mom’s sayings, “…before you ask a
question, make sure you are ready for all possible answers. I
know.”

I looked at my watch. “Text Aaron that if he
doesn’t get out here soon I am leaving. I only came out the night
before Sunday brunch, that falls on Christmas Eve no less, to spend
time with you guys. And I have your gifts.”

“
Gifts? Hell yeah!” Chris
yelled, pulling her phone out and speed texted Aaron. That girl
could text like her life depended on it.

CHRIS: get out here for gifts or L is
leaving and im taking ur gift bitch!!

AARON: who’s the diva? i’ll b out in a
min

CHRIS: chop chop bitch

AARON: stop texting so i can finish this
line…bitch

CHRIS: GRRR

A few minutes later Aaron came strolling
over to us. “You always have to have the last word even if it’s a
text dontchya?” Aaron said to Chris.

“
Pretty much.”

I gave Aaron and Chris each an envelope
containing a free massage at their favorite place. “Let me know
when you go, so we can all go together.” Chris bumped my fist.
Aaron squealed. Although not normally a squealer, lines of cocaine
and Aaron a squealer doth make. Taking advantage of his fucked up
state, I asked my two besties, “Can you guys help me with something
after the new year?”

“
You give us gifts and now
you are going to ask us for shit?” Chris dead panned, never one to
mince words.

“
Yep.”

“
And do I already know what
it is?”

“
Yep.”

“
Same
compensation?”

“
Yep.”

“
Aaron too this time? You
got that much?”

“
No. Just think of it as
part two of your gift. You only have to do half the work this
year.” She rolled her eyes at me, not believing what I was selling.
I knew she would do it though.

Stomping his feet, Aaron hollered, “What the
fuck bitches? What are we doing?”

“
Did you just stomp your
feet?” Chris asked incredulously. “Who’s the diva now,
biotch?”

I intercepted the two of them before they
could go any farther. “Every year, after the New Year, I buy
quantity of schwagg, and Chris helps me break it up and bag it up.
I give her some nuggs for the help. I thought we could all do it
together this year. You know, make a night of it. I’ll make eggnog
and we can sing carols.” I looked Aaron in the eye while I said
this, wearing the straightest face I could muster up.

“
While we bag up weed?”
Aaron asked, the most adorably confused look on his face. Chris
burst into laughter, and I too couldn’t seem to hold it in any
longer. Finally catching on to what was happening, Aaron nodded his
head and gave us one more foot stomp with a smile. “Whatever, I’m
in. But why are we doing this?”

“
Textbooks,” I
replied.

“
Textbooks? Like for
school?” Aaron asked with the
what the
fuck
look.

“
They’re expensive man. One
book can be like, $300. Gotta pay somehow.”

“
So you are bankrolling your
education with drug money.”

“
Dude, this is so not a TV
show. Stop flipping out like we’re on a lifetime movie. Yes, I use
the money for books. I pay for my classes with my paychecks but I
usually don’t have enough for books. We’ll do it again in the
summer before the fall semester. Cool?”

“
Manual labor, but free
nuggs and Christmas carols? I’m in. But you know it’s just to spend
time with you two.” Aaron batted his lashes at us.

“
Aw, and his heart grew ten
sizes,” Chris threw out, a patronizing grin on her face.

“
Fuck you both. And let’s go
dance.”

“
I’m out. I had my two
drinks. Gotta do brunch tomorrow and I need my beauty sleep,” I
told them both standing up from the barstool. After going back and
forth with them about me leaving early, a few hugs and sloppy
kisses later I finally made it out of there.

******

On Christmas Eve, the restaurant was only
open until six in the evening. The same four cooks would work all
day, open to close. It was a long day, and add to it that it fell
on Sunday brunch just made it all the more brutal. I got in first,
as was usual on busy days. Kevin was the day manager and Aaron
would come in later. Kevin seemed like he was in a decent mood when
he let me in the back door. We’d see how long that lasted.

I had a morning routine when I came into the
restaurant, especially on days I knew were going to be busy. I
liked to arrive a little early, sit at the bar and read the comics,
sip a cup of coffee, and enjoy a cigarette. I had been sitting
there mentally preparing myself for the day and laughing at Fox
Trot when Larry came strolling out of the kitchen into the dining
room. He plopped down at the bar next to me and I passed him the
cup of coffee I had waiting for him.

“
Fuckin’ Christmas Eve and
Sunday brunch. What the fuck? You got any aspirin?”

“
Well good morning to you
too sunshine,” I mocked. Yep, he’d gotten drunk last night. His
blue eyes were rimmed in red like he’d barely slept. He had sandy
brown hair that usually looked wild, but in a devil-may-care sort
of way, which worked for him. Today it was not working quite so
much. We were in for a fun filled day. At least it was Larry who’d
be on the grill, the one I’d be asking for stuff all day, the one I
was closest to and knew how to handle best.

He sneered back at me and asked, “You want
to puff a bowl before we start prep?”

“
Nah, I’m good. Plus I don’t
trust Kevin.” Larry looked at me all pouty face. I gave him my car
keys. “Don’t scratch the Monte, don’t burn holes in her, and make
sure to put the pipe back in the center console when you’re done.
You miss any of those steps and I’ll make you work with Ryan next
weekend.”