The Fourteen Day Soul Detox (15 page)

I leaned into the soft feeling of his
fingers. “This sucks, somebody stole my underwear. I mean, who
does that?”

“At least you know it was
probably a woman,” Cameron said.

I furrowed my brow. “Why’s
that?”

“Because if it was a guy,
wouldn’t he have taken those?” He pointed through my open
door, to the bed where my lacy thongs were still piled.

I sighed. “You’re probably
right. I should go shower and get ready for work. Would you mind
entertaining the kids while I do?”

“I would love to entertain the
kids,” he said.

“Thank you for everything,
Cameron,” I said before wrapping my arms around him. When his
arms wrapped around me, I squeezed him tighter, inhaling his soapy
smell. “Did you use my body wash?” I asked, laughing.

“Yes, do I smell like a chick?”

“You so do,” I said.

“That’s embarrassing,”
he said, but he didn’t sound embarrassed.

The door to the bathroom opened and
Cameron and I broke apart. Sarah came out, smiling, dressed from head
to toe in purple.

“Oh shoot, I forgot to take out
her braids,” I said.

Her hair was still weaved into loose
braids, though strands of her blonde hair escaped in all directions.

“No!” Sarah said, putting
her hands on her head to protect her hair from my interference.

“You go get ready. I’ll see
what I can do,” Cameron said.

“Are you sure?” I said.

“Yeah, go get ready it’s
already past four,” he said.

“Are you serious? I need to leave
at five because I have to drop off Aiden,” I said.

He grinned at me. “Then go,
baby.”

“Ah, I’m going,” I
said, walking into my room. Quickly, I put away all my clothes that
hadn’t been stolen, leaving out my clothes for work. When I
came to my underwear, I stared at the pile of little thongs. I almost
never wore sexy underwear to work for two reasons: first, it was
uncomfortable after a few hours of running around behind the bar.
Second, when I bent down to get anything, which I had to do
constantly, the back of my thongs always tried to come out to say
hello to my customers.

Now, I realized, until I bought new
underwear, I had a choice between wearing a black lacey thong, or
wearing no underwear at all.

A queasy feeling punched my gut. My
hands covered my face as I sat back onto my bed. Heavy breaths
whistled between my hands.

My pre-programmed phone alarm went off,
‘Get ready for work’, flashed across the screen.

“Shit!” I said, jumping.
Twisting around, I turned the phone alarm off. Even on days where I
didn’t have to go out of my way to drop off Aiden, I was
supposed to be getting ready right now. I grabbed the pile of clothes
I had set aside for work and the thong on the top of the pile.

After a quick shower, I dressed in the
bathroom. I was too nervous to really concentrate on anything and I
rushed through getting ready. Squeezing clear gel into my hand, I
scrunched it up into my hair. The underwear I wore under my jeans
felt foreign and wrong every time I moved. The lacey curls on the
sides of the thong felt abrasive to my legs.

I unbuttoned my jeans, considering just
wearing nothing, but the idea sent another wave of queasiness into my
stomach. Buttoning back up, I exited the bathroom and rushed over to
my phone.

Scrolling down my list of contacts, I
stopped on ‘Safe Ride—Gina’ and I pressed on her
number. Crossing to my bedroom door, I closed it then went to sit on
my bed. The phone rang three times before a gruff, older woman’s
voice said, “You need my services already, Jamie?”

“Not exactly, Gina,” I
whispered.

“Well, what can I do for you?”
she asked.

“You used to be a cop, right?”
I asked.

“A million years ago, I might
have been,” she said.

“I have a… problem; can I
burden you with it?”

“You definitely can.”

“The only thing is, my dad can’t
really know about it. Can I trust you not to tell him?” I
asked.

She paused for almost a minute. “Are
you in some kind of trouble, Jamie?”

“I didn’t do anything
illegal, if that’s what you’re asking,” I
whispered.

“Alright. Now, are you in some
sort of danger?” she asked.

I didn’t respond.

“Well, you see, your dad and I
have been friends for over forty years. I won’t feel right
knowing you’re in danger and not telling him about it,”
she said.

“Okay, Gina. I understand,”
I said.

“Hold up,” she said in a
loud voice. “There’s no way that I’m okay with you
being in danger with no one to help you. So, if you’ll only let
me help you if I keep it from your dad, that’s what I’ll
do.”

“Really?” I asked.

“But I’m going to tell you
to tell your dad. I’m telling you that now,” she said.

“I know, it’s just
complicated. I thought that I could handle it, but things seem to be
escalating,” I said.

“Well, tell me about it,”
she said.

“I can’t really now, I’m
already running late for work. Can I call you tomorrow morning?”
I asked.

“Is your dad going to be at the
bar tonight?” she asked.

“No, he started taking weekends
off,” I said.

“How about this, what time do you
take your break tonight?”

“Eight-thirty.”

“I’ll be there at
eight-fifteen, find me at my usual table,” she said.

A tear leaked from my eye and I wiped
it away saying, “Thank you.”

“Anytime, darling girl. I’ll
see you tonight,” she said.

Slipping into my work shoes and pulling
myself together, I walked out of my bedroom. “Hey, Aiden cutie,
I need to get you back to your parents.”

Cameron stood from where he was sitting
with both kids, playing a board game.

“Yum, yum, yum, I ate your arm,”
Sarah said as she held her game piece to Aiden’s.

“Sarah doesn’t play the way
you’re supposed to play, but I don’t mind,” Aiden
told me as he got up from the table.

Sarah stood up, and ran over to Aiden,
wrapping him in a hug. Aiden hugged her back, his eyes squeezing
closed.

“I love you so much,” Sarah
said.

“I love you too, Sarah,” he
said.

Another bout of tears fell from my
eyes, and I didn’t break up their hug, even though we would
definitely be late now.

When they broke apart, I wiped off my
face and smiled at Aiden. “You ready to go?”

“Yeah,” he said, though he
ran over to give Cameron a quick hug too.

Cameron gave me a small grin and said,
“I’ll wait up for you.”

“Thank you for doing this. I’ll
see you later tonight.” Unable to muster a grin, I crossed to
the freezer, grabbing out a frozen dinner. Over my shoulder, I said,
“If you get tired though, don’t worry about waiting up.”

“Alright. You have a good day at
work,” he said.

“Thanks, Cameron.”

As Aiden walked with me toward the
door, I whispered to him. “Want to have a contest?”

“Yes,” he said.

“How about we see who can be
quiet all the way to the car?”

“Aunt Jamie, I know that one.”
He rolled his eyes. “My parents try to have quiet contests all
the time.”

“Well, this one is a really short
one,” I said.

“Fine,” he said with a
heavy, put-upon sigh.

Holding my fingers to my lips, I slowly
opened my front door. After Aiden followed me outside, I quietly
closed the door behind us and locked it with my key. Putting my hand
around Aiden, we began walking away.

Behind me, I heard a door swing open. I
didn’t look back, just kept walking when I heard a dog bark.

“Hey Jamie,” Clarke’s
voice said from behind me.

Not turning around, I gave a wave. “Hi,
Clarke,” I said, while still walking away.

I heard his laughter behind me, but it
was so low, almost inaudible.

“Aunt Jamie, can I come over
tomorrow and go swimming again?” Aiden asked in the parking
lot.

“Oh, sweetie, Sarah has
gymnastics tomorrow. But we’ll go swimming again soon,” I
told him when we got to my car.

When we were both locked in my car, I
group texted Beza and Susan.

Me:
We’re
running late. Be there in twenty minutes.

Susan:
We’ll
wait outside, so you’re not late for work.

On the drive to his house, Aiden told
me about his teacher, the kids he liked, and the kids who were mean
to him. Then he told me every detail of his second grade
presentation, where he showed a collage of pictures about everything
that was important to him. “You and Sarah were on there,”
he told me.

“That means so much to me,
Aiden,” I said.

“Another girl in my class has two
moms, and a boy in my class has two dads and a mom, but they’re
divorced,” he said.

“Wow,” I said.

“I’m friends with the boy
but the girl isn’t my friend, she says she hates me and I
stink.”

“Well, you don’t stink.
Girls can be mean sometimes,” I said.

“Was Uncle Logan mean to you when
you were in first grade together?” Aiden asked.

“No, we were good friends. He
actually had a really hard time in first grade because your grandpa
and grandma—”

“The one that died?”

“Yeah, sweetie. Well, in
kindergarten they let your mom and Uncle Logan be in the same class
together, but they didn’t make any friends because they only
wanted to play with each other. So in first grade, they kept them
apart. And your mom and Uncle Logan had never been apart in their
whole lives. So, in first grade, Logan was always sad. Now, back
then, I was really goofy like you are.”

“You’re still pretty goofy,
Aunt Jamie,” he said.

“Thanks, cutie. Anyway, I had
decided that it was my mission in life to make Logan laugh. I had
just learned to write, so I drew him a picture of a poop with a face
on it, wearing a cape.”

“What? Are you serious?”
Aiden yelled, laughing.

“I did,” I said, smiling
into the rearview mirror at him. “Under it I wrote, ‘This
is Doo Doo the Super Poo!’ Then under that, I wrote, ‘Will
you be my friend? Check yes or no.’ He passed the note back,
and he had checked yes.”

“That’s how you met Uncle
Logan?” Aiden asked.

“Kind of. It’s how we
became friends.” I turned from the main road and into a
residential street. The high-roofed houses were in neutral colors,
all the windows had cute decorative shutters coming out to their
sides. A line of trees grew up and over the street, creating an arch
above the car.

“When did you become friends with
my mom?” Aiden asked.

“That day at lunch,” I
said.

“Wow. Did Cameron go to first
grade with you too?” Aiden asked.

“No, I met Cameron in high
school. He was friends with Logan first.”

“But then he married Vanessa?”
Aiden said.

“A long time later, cutie,”
I said.

“But they’re divorced?”
he said.

“Yes,” I said.

“Is he married to you now?”
Aiden asked.

“No. If I ever get married again,
you’ll be part of the wedding,” I said.

“Was I part of your wedding to
Uncle Logan?” he asked.

“Nope, you weren’t even
alive yet.”

“I was part of my moms’
wedding,” he said.

“I know, I was there,” I
said, smiling back at him.

“It was illegal for them to get
married for a long time. They would have gone to jail,” he said
with complete surety.

“I don’t know about jail.
The courts just wouldn’t give them wedding licenses back then;
it’s the piece of paper that says you’re married. But
they’re married now,” I said.

“I know, I was there,” he
said repeating my words.

Beza and Susan waited on the street,
under the shade of the tall tree that partially blocked the view of
their house.

I rolled down my window as we
approached.

“Don’t get out, Jamie. We
have this,” Beza called.

Beza and Susan opened Aiden’s
door. One grabbed Aiden, the other his booster seat. Susan shut the
door and leaned in to yell, “We love you. Go! Go!”

I rushed off for their benefit, but
slowed down a little ways down the block.

Pressing the button for the radio, I
turned up the volume, switching from a slow, melodic love song to
dance music, and then to classical. After a second, I switched the
music off. I shook out my hand at my side, surprised when I
accidentally hit the cold box of my microwave dinner.

Downtown looked completely different
than it had yesterday. The streets were packed with people walking
from place to place. Restaurants overflowed with people. As I passed,
a strange mesh of different music poured through my open window.

Turning down a side street, I pulled
into an alley and parked in a spot that had a large white sign that
read ‘Mike’s Saloon Employee Only Parking’.

Glancing at my clock, the time read
five fifty-five. “Yes,” I said, grabbing the frozen food
box and jumping out of my car. I jogged across the alley, unlocking
and opening up the back door of the bar. After stuffing my meal into
the staff room’s mini-fridge’s freezer, I rushed into the
bar through the adjoining door..

Glancing around the light, wood bar,
and old style Saloon tables, I saw a few customers, but only at the
tables. There were also a few people tucked up into the raised
booths. Musicians were setting up on the small, wooden stage. The
décor showed touches of my father’s wood artistry—inlays
on the tables, decorative pieces at all the edges.

Behind the bar, Nancy, our only server
and bar-back during the slow times, lifted trays of clean cups out of
the dish sanitizer. Bartenders Carl and Jose cleaned their stations,
not looking up at my arrival.

Looking at the clock, I said, “Yes!
Just under the wire. I’m not late.”