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‘Please tell me River didn’t hook up with a couple of witches?’ Dylan asks inquisitively, looking more than amused by this. ‘But if he did, count River in,’ he says as he practically drags me into the building. ‘The guy has an ex that I’m sure he’d be all-in on tormenting her voodoo doll for a while if that’s what you’re suggesting.’
Both Laney and Jade stare my way. ‘You have a voodoo doll of Caite?’ Jade asks as she makes her way inside behind us.
‘Nah,’ I say, giving a slightly crooked grin to imply it’s just a joke. In all seriousness, I do, but it was a gag gift from Dax after she and I broke up. I’ve never actually used it, but I can’t say the thought has never crossed my mind. Since the girls refuse to leave, I throw an arm over Jade’s shoulders and let her and Dylan drag me up the stairs. Laney follows behind, offering the assistance of a hand on my butt so I don’t fall ass over tea kettle to the bottom. She’s not the most subtle girl.
‘Who’s Caite?’ Laney finally asks.
‘The evilest woman alive,’ I groan.
‘I met her the other night,’ Jade explains to Laney. ‘She was so “it’s good to see you, who’s this” that I pretended to be his fiancée. No big deal.’
Laney bursts out a laugh. ‘No big deal besides the fact you’re already someone else’s fiancée.’
Dylan side-eyes me. ‘You sure know how to pick ’em.’
‘Shut up. It’s a long story.’
Finally, after what feels like a hike up Mount Hood, I’m in my apartment. ‘You ladies, make yourself comfortable. Remote’s on the coffee table. Watch anything you want, just turn it up real loud.’ Those are my last words before locking myself in my bathroom, dreading what might come next.
16
JADE
River’s locked in his bathroom, and Laney is flipping through channels, the TV so loud I can hardly think, but he requested it loud, so I’ll respect his wishes considering this is his apartment and he’s sick. Though, this isn’t how I expected tonight to turn out. We were having so much fun, and now I’m worried about a guy I hardly know.
I considered leaving after his neighbor, Dylan, promised us he could handle it, but that just wasn’t enough to put my worrying heart at ease. I’m one of those worriers. For example, I slept on his couch for a week when Thomas got sick last year, ensuring he survived walking pneumonia. He needed round-the-clock care, breathing treatments, medications, fluids, and a lot of the Game Show Network. I missed a week of work.
That’s when I discovered my favorite game show, Supermarket Sweep. It’s like mixing shopping with road rage. I’ve seen every episode, and even though I know they won’t, I secretly hope someone creates a spin-off one day called Supermarket Sweep –XTREME. It could be bumper cars meets shopping. I would sign Laney and me up in a second.
Anyhow, I’m a caretaker. It’s in my blood. Mom was a nurse, and when we were sick as kids, there was no place else I wanted to be than home with her nursing me back to health. She was my hero, with so much compassion and empathy that she was the best part about being sick. As she was home with hospice care, I visited every day in her final weeks. For her last week on earth, I slept in my childhood bedroom, as did Laney, so that we wouldn’t be far away when the moment came to say goodbye. I hardly slept that week, worrying that the next minute might be her last, and I didn’t want her to go without knowing I was there. Imagine two twenty-something women sleeping in bunk beds. They weren’t as magical as I remembered them.
No, Jade. You can’t think about this, or you’ll go down a dark ‘why me’ path, and River’s night will get much worse with a crying woman attempting to nurse him back to health.
Think of anything else. I pick up a Rubik’s Cube from his coffee table, but it’s already completed, and that’s such an accomplishment that I don’t want to ruin it. On one wall, there are shelves holding hundreds of DVDs and CDs. I think movies and music are his thing. Every genre is present, but it’s dominated by two decades. The eighties and nineties. He really is a fan. I wonder where he keeps his Magic 8 Ball? He seems like the type.
His apartment is kind of cool. It’s in an older building, but with an updated floor plan open living room/kitchen with an island separating the two. The TV on his wall is giant, and besides empty drink containers and mail, it’s relatively clean. An oversized leather sectional takes up the wall of windows facing the street, with a square wooden coffee table in the middle. The rug on his floor is a bright blue shag carpet. I love it.
I meander through the place, glancing into a room with the door open, the glow of multiple computer screens illuminating it. It’s filled with electronics, stacks of CDs, soundboards, and equipment I think is for music, cluttering the corner-shaped desk. I wonder what he does for work and if this is where that happens.
I hear the door of the bathroom crack open, and when I turn, he’s peeking out. His hair hangs loosely from the bun until he brushes it away from his face, and he doesn’t look like he’s had a great time.
‘Please tell me you heard none of that because I think I just flushed my ego down the toilet. If you did, I can never look you in the eye again.’ His cheeks are pink, and even though I’m sure it’s from whatever just went on behind that door, he’s embarrassed we’re here now.
‘Do you want me to leave?’
‘No,’ he says quickly.
Whew. Because I didn’t want to go yet. ‘Can I get you anything?’
‘Water?’ he asks. ‘There’s bottled water in the fridge.’
‘Coming right up,’ I say, rushing to the fridge and grabbing the water. ‘I’d suggest drinking it slowly.’
He takes the bottle from me. ‘You don’t have to stay. I’d be more than happy to die alone.’
‘You’re not dying, and I’m one of those women who can’t leave if someone’s not okay.’
‘Why?’
