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Chapter 24

When Claire finished with work the following afternoon, Tim and Laureen were flirting by the clock yet again. Rolling her eyes behind their backs, Claire slipped her timecard back into its slot, said a quick goodbye in their general direction, and left quickly, wondering how long it would be before Laureen fell victim to his charms and went out with him. Of course, at that point, the next guess would be how long Laureen would keep going out with him until his repetitive calling and rambling stories about his mascot days in college got to be too much. Maybe she could start an office pool and take bets?

Giggling to herself, Claire slid behind the wheel of her car and quickly started the engine, blasting the air-conditioning. While she waited for the stifling interior of the car to cool down, she pulled her cell phone out of her purse and checked her voicemail. One new message. She expected it to be from Nick, but the phone number that was read off into her ear was not Nick’s. And when the message began to play, it was not Nick’s voice either, but a deeper, almost more-familiar one.

“Hey, it’s Jamie. I guess you’re working now, but hopefully you’ll get this when you get off. I’m meeting a couple of friends from college and hitting a few bars tonight… was wondering if you wanted to come. I know you’re off tomorrow, but you’ll probably be busy the next couple days getting ready to move, and I’m leaving Friday morning, so… yeah. Give me a call back. Later.”

When the message ended, Claire lowered the phone and just stared at the number on its screen, hesitating. Her first instinct was to turn Jamie down. After all, she had told Nick she would do something with him that night, and why would she want to go drinking with a couple of Jamie’s college buddies that she had never met?

But then she remembered the rest of the message. “You’ll probably be busy the next couple days… and I’m leaving Friday morning…”

She sighed. He was right. He only had two more nights in town, and Thursday was no good. She had to take Nick to the hospital for his check-up in the morning, and depending on how long that took, the rest of the day was devoted to running errands and working in her apartment. As for Thursday night? Who knew. But she figured after a long day of running around and cleaning and packing, she would much rather just watch a movie with Nick than go out with Jamie. But that would mean putting Jamie first for tonight. She owed him that much – actually, she owed him a lot more than that – so she reluctantly pressed the button to call his number back. She hadn’t seen him nearly enough this week, and she needed to hang out with him at least once more before he flew back up north. Who knew when he’d be down again?

Nick would probably be pissed, she thought as the phone rang, but he would just have to understand. She saw him all the time, and Jamie almost never. Besides, she could just hang out with Nick the following night instead.

“Hey.” Claire stifled a giggle as Jamie answered his cell; it never failed to amuse her how unenthusiastic he always sounded on the phone.

“Hey!” she said brightly, mocking him with her exaggerated perkiness. “Whatcha up to?”

“Hoping you would call. Did you get my message?”

She smiled. “Sure did. You still want me to come with you tonight? It’s not a ‘Guys Night Out’ or anything?”

“Nope, you’re more than welcome to come. Are you going to?”

“I think so,” she said. “I should probably call Nick first… I-“

“What, you need his permission?” Jamie interrupted her. His voice had a sardonic edge that she did not like, and she frowned.

“No…” she enunciated. “As I was trying to say before you interrupted, I just don’t think he’s gonna be too happy. I kinda promised him we’d do something tonight.”

“But you see him all the time.”

“I know. I’ll remind him of that. I just hate having to change my plans on him.”

She heard Jamie expel a short breath on the other end of the line. There was a pause, and then he said, “Well, if it’ll make you want to come with us, you can bring him along.”

She knew there was no way Nick would go for that – he would barely even leave his house when he couldn’t wear his leg, and hell would probably freeze over before he was caught bar-hopping with her ex-boyfriend and company on crutches, his stump bared for the world to see. But, coolly, she replied, “Okay, maybe I’ll ask him when I talk to him. Can I call you back in a bit?”

“Yeah, sure.” He didn’t sound too happy. Too bad for him. Nick would be even less happy when he heard her new plans for the night.

A little annoyed with the whole situation, Claire considered just blowing Jamie off right then and there, but she didn’t. Instead, she said, “Okay, talk to you in a little while” and hung up, speed-dialing Nick’s number instead as she decided she should probably get out of the parking lot. She was just pulling out onto the highway when Nick answered.

“Hey, hon,” she greeted him, accelerating down the road. “Um, listen… Jamie called, and he wants me to do something with him and a few friends tonight. I know I said we could hang out tonight,” she added before he could say anything, “but Jamie’s leaving Friday morning, and tomorrow’s gonna be busy, so I thought it might work out better if I did something with him tonight and then hung out with you tomorrow. What would you think about that?”

There was silence on the other line, and just when she was about to ask if he was still there, Nick said, “Sure, whatever. I guess you’d have more fun going out with him than just sitting around here.”

“Nick,” she sighed. “It’s probably going to be the exact opposite – the people that are going to be with us tonight are his friends from college, and I’ve never met any of them, so chances are I’m going to be bored out of my mind. But I haven’t done a lot with him since the weekend, and I can’t let him go home without hanging out with him one last time. You understand, right?”

“Yeah,” Nick said dully, “I understand.”

She sighed again. “Nick, please… I don’t want you to be upset with me. You’re more than welcome to come with me tonight if you want.”

“No,” was his flat response.

“I knew you’d say that. That’s why I didn’t ask earlier,” she said. “Listen, I know you’re probably bored out of your mind being alone at home all day, and I’m really sorry I’m doing this to you – you probably think it’s a crappy thing to do, but look at it from Jamie’s end – it would be crappy if I blew him off his last couple of days in town. So I’m going out with them tonight, and I promise I will make it up to you tomorrow night. Sound okay?”

“Yeah, that works. You’re gonna owe me tomorrow night though, you do know that?”

She smiled as his tone grew more playful. “Of course,” she agreed cheerfully. “I owe you, and thanks for understanding.”

“No prob. Have fun, okay? Will you call me later, when you get home?”

“Sure,” she said. “Love ya.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

“Bye, Nick.”

She hung up, feeling a little better, and decided she would call Jamie back when she got home. She set her phone down and turned on the radio, blasting it loud as she drove.

***

It didn’t take long for Claire to decide that Jamie’s two college buddies – Greg and Jerry, or simply “Jerr,” as he told her to call him – were a couple of drunken idiots. Jamie had never joined a fraternity in college, and from what she had heard, neither had these two, but that was not what she would have guessed. Slap a few Greek letters on them, and they were stereotypical frat boys to a T - cracking dirty jokes, trying to be smooth while flirting with the hot bartenders, guzzling beer three times as fast as she could. Oh, they were nice enough (Jerr had tried flirting with her at first, before Jamie gave him a warning look that made him back off), but it did not take long for her to get annoyed with both – no, make that all three – of them, just as it did not take long for the three of them to get totally wasted.

By ten o’clock, as she sat nursing a beer while the guys laughed raucously at some joke she’d not heard, nor cared to hear, she was ready to go home. Or back to Nick’s, to keep her buzz going while cuddling with him on the couch, watching some lame late-night movie on TV. She regretted her decision to go out with Jamie that night, because Jamie, as she had discovered, was not himself when he was plastered and in the presence of these two goofs. She had not seen much of Jamie during their college years, because he had dumped her the summer before freshman year and freaked out the spring of sophomore year, after her diagnosis of leukemia. Things had been tense at best between the two of them for the next two years, and she had missed seeing what “college Jamie” was like. But if this was a snapshot, she didn’t miss it at all.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like to go out and drink and have fun, and hang out with guys who liked to do the same. But Jamie had always been a horrible drunk, and his two friends were no better – they got stupider and ruder with every drink they downed. And even with a nice buzz going herself, she couldn’t seem to get in on their fun. She felt left out and wished Jamie had asked Dianna to come along that night too so that at least she’d have someone to talk to. Because Jamie certainly wasn’t doing any of that. He’d gone from trying to be all suave and charming with her at the beginning of the night (nothing more than showing off in front of his friends), to basically ignoring her. She wondered why he’d even asked her to come along.

She was just considering getting Jamie’s attention long enough to tell him she was leaving when he turned to her, surprising her. “Hey, Clairie,” he said loudly, his words slurring slightly, “you remember senior year of high school, when Randy Curtis snuck into the teacher’s lounge and pissed in the coffee pot? You remember that?”

She cracked a smile at the memory and nodded, remembering the lecture the entire senior class had gotten from the principal the following day, about how they were going to “crack down” on senior pranks. “Any student who is caught participating in foolhardy end-of-year practical jokes will not be allowed to attend the graduation ceremony!” she barked in an imitation of Principal Johnson’s gruff voice, bringing Jamie to laughter.

“Yeah!” he cried, slapping his knee. “Oh man that was funny!”

“I got an even better one! Yo, listen to this,” said Jerr, and launched into another senior prank story from his own high school. Despite having decided she was ready to leave, Claire found herself laughing until her eyes watered.

“Listen to this one,” she jumped in, after Greg had shared a story too. “One time, my boyfriend’s best friend convinced him to take a crap in a sock…” By the time she’d finished Nick’s “pooping in a sock and hiding it inside the band’s bass drum” story, the three guys were cracking up.

Jamie stopped laughing long enough to ask, “Nick did that?”

“He sure did,” she replied with a strange sort of pride, finding it funny that a woman could be so proud of her man for crapping into a sock – come on, how gross was that? “Nick’s a funny guy,” she went on, almost defensively. “I wish you two would get to know each other better; you’re more alike than you’d think.”

Jamie didn’t reply, but Greg cut in with, “Wait, Nick? Ohh-ho-ho, you’re the one who’s dating the Backstreet Gimp, aren’t you?”

At first Claire wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly. He didn’t just say-? But he had, and she knew it. Her mouth fell open slowly, and she shook her head in disbelief. “What did you say?” she demanded.

“I said-“ He started to repeat himself, then stopped, realizing she had heard him fine the first time – gee, was it her expression that gave her away, or the fact that her cheeks were quickly turning red as her whole face grew hot with anger? “Damn, girl, you don’t gotta get touchy about it; I was just sayin’…”

“Yeah, I heard you, asshole, you don’t need to repeat yourself,” she spat venomously, sliding off her barstool. She started to stalk away, fully intent on leaving, but Jamie intercepted her.

“Claire, wait,” he said, grabbing her by the arms and practically tumbling off his own stool in his attempt to hold her back. “He didn’t mean anything bad by it; he was just kidding around.”

“Did you see me laughing?” she retorted, giving him a hardened glare.

“Hey, Clairie…” Jamie holding onto her had given Greg enough time to get up off his ass and sidle up alongside of her – not to mention use a nickname that only Jamie got away with calling her. “Look, sweetheart, I didn’t mean nothin’… you don’t gotta run off,” he said slimily, daring to put an arm around her.

As soon as his hand touched her back, she flipped. One twist, and she was out of Jamie’s grasp and facing Greg. And when she saw his face, complete with an arrogant smirk that repulsed her, she followed through with the urge to hit him, and wipe away that silly smirk. Before she knew what she was doing, she’d drawn her whole arm back, made a fist, and launched it forward, stopping only when it had made contact with his right cheek. Greg stumbled back, face in hands, and she stumbled back as well, knuckles throbbing, shocked at what she had just done. But not shocked enough to hiss, “Don’t fucking touch me, and don’t call me ‘sweetheart’ – or ‘Clairie,’ for that matter.” With that, she turned and bolted, pushing her way out of the bar before Jamie or anyone else could stop her.

Once outside, she ran a ways down the street and turned the corner before she finally stopped, sinking to the ground with her back pressed up against the wall, knees tucked to her chest. First she felt anger, at Greg; then pride, in herself. But it was not long before tears sprang to her eyes. She blinked rapidly, feeling suddenly humiliated. Why was she crying? Because of what that jackass had said about Nick? Or because her knuckles hurt like a mother. Or because she was out here all alone, slightly drunk and without a ride.

At least I didn’t forget my purse, she thought, picking up the small handbag she’d brought with her. She fished her cell phone out of it and wondered who to call. Nick, of course, was the first who came to mind, but there was no way in hell she was going to call him to come here and get her. Dianna was the obvious next choice, so Claire found her name in her list of contacts and dialed her cell. No answer. Deciding that leaving a tearful voicemail would only upset Dianna when she heard it, Claire hung up and tried her home number instead. Still no answer.

“Damnit, Di, where are you?” she murmured, her voice slightly shrill, and wondered who to try next. She realized with regret that she didn’t have too many other close friends in the area. She thought about her brother, but he lived in St. Petersburg; it would take him a good half hour to come and get her. She quickly nixed that idea and started flipping through the other contacts on her cell phone, hoping to see a name she hadn’t thought of yet.

Right below Kyle, there was one – Laureen.

Claire had just added her phone number the other day, and she didn’t really know Laureen that well yet… but Laureen was always so sweet to her, definitely the kind of person who would help out a friend in need. Deciding to give it a try, Claire pushed the button to dial her number. She sagged in relief when she heard Laureen chirp, “Hello? Claire?”

“Hey, Laureen!” she said breathlessly. “Listen, I’m so sorry to call you like this, but I need a huge favor.”

“Oh sure, what is it? Are you okay?” Laureen asked.

“Yes and no,” answered Claire truthfully. “I won’t go into all the gory details now, but I’m sitting out on a sidewalk downtown, and I really need a ride home, and I can’t call Nick, and my friend Di’s not answering her phone, and-“

“I can come pick you up,” Laureen said before Claire could ramble on any further. “Where are you?”

Claire told her the nearest intersection and the name of the bar they’d last been at and was relieved to hear Laureen say, “Oh, I know where that is! I’ll be there as soon as I can, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you so much, Laureen,” Claire stressed gratefully.

“No problem!”

As soon as their conversation ended, Claire shoved her cell phone back into her bag and stood up, brushing off the seat of her pants. From now on, she was going to have to start taking her own car everywhere, because this was the second time in the past month that she’d been stranded somewhere and had to bum a ride off one of her friends. Then again, even if this hadn’t happened, she figured she would have ridden home in a taxi, for she knew she shouldn’t be driving, and Jamie, who had brought her, definitely shouldn’t. Despite the fact that she was angry at him – and even more so at his friends – she hoped he would have enough sense to call a cab to take him back to his hotel. Lord knows his stupid cronies probably wouldn’t.

Her anger returning, she began to pace the sidewalk, up and down, up and down, never straying far from the spot where she’d sat down to call Laureen.

After a few minutes of pacing, she stopped suddenly. She heard footsteps, pounding against the cement, coming her way, ready to turn the corner. She wanted to turn and walk in the opposite direction, to run even, but her feet stayed rooted to the sidewalk. Arms crossed, she waited until he appeared.

A few short seconds later, there he was.

Jamie.

***