Jane's Harmony (Jane's Melody #2) Page 14

  “No. People think that, but they’re different. They call these the ‘kings of the toys.’ Although he sure defended me like a Doberman the other night. Didn’t you, Buttercup?”

  “I’ve noticed he’s not barking as much lately.”

  “That’s because of the pain medication the vet sent home with us. That and I’m walking him more. He barks because he misses his yard.”

  “You used to have a yard?”

  She nodded. “We moved in here six years ago, but I’ve had Buttercup going on ten years now. He used to love his yard.”

  “I miss my yard too,” Jane said.

  She remembered the photos of the handsome man on Marj’s nightstand and was tempted to ask her about him, but she didn’t want to pry. Instead, she looked back down and spoke to the dog.

  “You’re a little cutie, aren’t you, Buttercup? A tough little cutie too. You sure showed that crazy coon. I’ll bet he’s still licking his wounds. Oh, baby, look at your eye. I’m sorry about the pepper spray, if that’s why it’s red. I got a little on myself, so I know what it’s like.”

  When Jane glanced back up, Marj was standing at her shelf of books. She reached and took one down, then flipped it open.

  “I have this same book of daily reflections,” she said.

  “Is that right?” Jane asked. “Are you in recovery too?”

  Marj set the book back down on the shelf. “I used to be in Al-Anon. When my husband was alive. But I just quit going when he died. I’m not really sure why. I miss it sometimes.”

  “I miss it too,” Jane replied.

  Marj turned to look at her. “Al-Anon or A.A.?”

  “Al-Anon. I went for years.”

  “Why did you stop going? If you don’t mind me asking.”

  “My daughter’s an addict. Well, she was an addict. She’s passed away now. Then I moved here and it just seems so hard to get reconnected, you know?”

  “Well, isn’t this a coincidence,” Marj said. “The two of us meeting up like this. And all because of a raccoon.”

  “Maybe it’s a coinci-God,” Jane said.

  “What’s that?” Marj asked.

  “Oh, just something my old sponsor used to say. When something really random and coincidental would happen, I’d say it was spooky and she’d always correct me and say it wasn’t spooky, it was spiritual. ‘There are no coincidences, Jane,’ she’d say. ‘Only coinci-Gods.’ ”

  Marj laughed. There was another silence between them when it was obvious that each was lost in her own thoughts and neither knew what else to say. Eventually, Marj stepped over to take Buttercup from Jane’s arms.

  “It’s almost time for his medication, so don’t be surprised if you hear a little barking coming from next door.”

  Jane was closing the door after them when she had a thought.

  “You know,” Jane said, “there’s an Alano Club on my work route. I was thinking about popping in for a meeting, if maybe you wanted to go together. Maybe even tomorrow.”

  Marj didn’t answer right away, and Jane thought maybe she had overstepped a boundary. Her neighbor looked down the hall at her apartment door, as if recalling the loneliness that waited inside, then she looked down at Buttercup in her arms. She looked back at Jane and nodded.

  “I think that’s a great idea.”

  “Don’t you have to work today?” Marj asked, buckling in.

  “It’s my day off,” Jane said, pulling the car away from the curb. “Then tomorrow I start my first night shift. Or my first one solo anyway.”

  “Friday night downtown. That’s got to be rough.”

  “Yeah, but at least I’ve got my stab vest now.”

  “What’s a stab vest?”

  “Oh, nothing.”

  They drove the rest of the way in silence and when they reached the Alano Club, Jane parked and paid the meter with her credit card.

  “Don’t you get a special pass or something?” Marj asked.

  “Nope. I’ve got to pay like everyone else.”

  “I’m really sorry about laughing at you that one time.”

  “What time?” Jane asked.

  “From my balcony. When you got that ticket. The day you gave me the finger.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Jane said. “I’m sorry for flipping you off.”

  “I guess I get angry at the noise because I miss my home. It was so quiet there. And the apartment walls are so paper thin. But maybe it’s more than that. I don’t know. Maybe I get mad at everything because I miss my Rob.”

  With the meter transaction completed, Jane looked up and saw that Marj was staring at the ground. Jane glanced at the entrance to the Alano Club, where a few men stood smoking. Then she looked back at Marj.

  “Is this hard for you?” Jane asked. “Because we can just go get a coffee or something instead. Or maybe ice cream.”

  Marj looked up, and Jane saw that her eyes were wet.

  “No, I should do this,” she said. “It’s not hard because of what you might think. My Rob was a good man and he’d been sober for a lot of years. It was his heart that got him, not the booze. It’s just that we used to go to meetings together. That’s all. But this is good. I need to do this.”

  Jane took Marj’s arm in hers and they walked together toward the door. The two men there held their cigarettes away in an effort to keep them clear of the smoke, then both nodded and one welcomed them. Framed sobriety slogans lined the walls of the foyer and a short hallway led them to an open door and the meeting already in progress. They slipped inside and sat in two empty chairs. The chairs were metal and circled up so that everyone faced one another, maybe twenty people in all. The man who was sharing had paused briefly when they entered, but as they sat, he began speaking again.

  “I know they say a meeting is a meeting no matter where you are, but I guess I’m just getting used to the meetings here in Texas still. They’re so different from meetings in Maryland. Yesterday I was down at the Last Chance Saloon—they’ve got a seven a.m. meeting there before the bar opens—and this guy came in . . . let’s see, how do I say this? He was a guy but he wasn’t, which is fine, of course. But anyway, he or she was still drunk and smelled like booze, and when she sat down, she dropped her purse, and you’ll never guess what fell out.”

  “A vibrator,” someone guessed, joking.

  “Why a vibrator?” someone else asked from across the room. “Did you lose one?”

  A silver-haired gentlemen sitting next to the first man who had spoken out of turn elbowed him gently in the ribs.

  “No cross talk, John.”

  Jane and Marj looked at each other, suddenly realizing that they were the only two women in the room and simultaneously guessing they had stumbled into the wrong meeting.

  The man sharing continued. “No, it wasn’t a vibrator. She dropped her purse and a pistol fell out. Right there on the bar floor. And no one even said a word. A guy just leaned over and picked it up for her, and she put it back in her purse. I knew then I was really in Texas. But I guess a sex addict is a sex addict, no matter where you are.”

  Everyone laughed and nodded at this as if it were true. Then the man who had been speaking looked right at Jane. “I’d like to pass to the newcomers,” he said. “Ma’am, would you like to share?”

  Jane was struck momentarily speechless. She pointed at her own chest, as if to verify that he was in fact asking her to speak. He nodded that he was, and she nodded that she’d guessed so. She glanced at Marj, but Marj just raised her eyebrows and shook her head.

  Jane looked back to the man who had called on her to share and said, “I think maybe we made a mistake coming.”

  “Everyone’s welcome,” the man replied.

  “Yes, but I mean . . . well . . . it’s just that . . . we’re not sex addicts, you see. Not that there’s anything wrong with being sex
addicts, or love addicts, or any kind of addict. I mean, it’s great. Well, obviously it’s not great or you wouldn’t be here. I didn’t mean that. Not like it sounded anyway . . .”

  All twenty pairs of eyes were locked dead on Jane, but not one face seemed to contain an expression for her to speak to. She glanced at Marj, as if looking for a safety line, but Marj was staring at her hands in her lap.

  “Ah, we’re the ones who fall in love with addicts,” Jane continued. “We thought this was . . . we were looking for—”

  “Al-Anon’s across the hall,” the silver-haired man said, chuckling. “But we’re glad you stopped by.”

  “Oh, God,” Jane said. “Thank you. I’m so sorry.”

  She stood and tugged on Marj’s sleeve. They both waved awkwardly good-bye and made the uncomfortable walk to the door. As soon as they were in the hallway, they burst out laughing. When they finally stopped, they could hear the men in the room laughing too.

  “Should we go barge into the Al-Anon meeting now?”

  Marj was still giggling and trying desperately to catch her breath. She shook her head. When she could speak again, she said, “I think we’ve embarrassed ourselves enough for today. Let’s go get that cup of coffee. We’ll have our own meeting.”

  Jane thought that this was the best idea she’d heard all day, and she smiled at Marj to let her know it. They walked out together toward the car, arm in arm and still laughing.

  Jane was already in bed with the lights out when her phone went off. She reached for it on the nightstand and felt her spirits lift when she saw Caleb’s picture on the screen.

  “Hi, baby. I was hoping you’d call.”

  “Sorry it’s so late,” he said. “We’re rehearsing like crazy.”

  “It’s okay. I was just lying here in an existential depression, thinking about the time we’ve been apart. Did you know if I only have forty years left to live, then forty years times twelve months is four hundred eighty months? So, say five hundred. And if you’ve been away from me for almost a month by the time you get back, then that’s one–five hundredth of the rest of my life I’ve spent away from you. That’s like point-two percent.”

  “Oh, baby, you need to turn on the TV or something.”

  Jane laughed. “I think that’s the problem. I was watching the Science Channel. From now on I’ll stick to Dr. Oz. I miss you, Caleb. But I’m so proud of you, honey. So proud.”

  “Don’t get too excited, I haven’t made the live show yet.”

  “Not yet. But you’ll beat her.”

  “You think so?”

  “Absolutely, I do. I’ve watched all her videos on YouTube at least twice. I hated her at first, of course, but she’s growing on me. She’s good. But she’s not as good as you.”

  “That’s nice of you to say. I guess I’ll be home next week whether I make the live show or not.”

  “I know,” she said. “I’m marking off the days.”

  “Okay, but stop freaking yourself out with the math. Now, tell me what you’ve been up to. Besides saving neighbors and calculating the percentages of our lives. I’m missing my Jane.”

  “Let’s see . . . I pepper-sprayed the raccoon and then myself, but I told you that already. Oh, this is fun. I had a really obese guy chase me three blocks and almost collapse of a heart attack just to tell me that he saw someone who wasn’t disabled parking in a disabled spot.”

  “Was he handicapped?”

  “No, bless his barely beating heart. Just a Good Samaritan. Then another lady told me she hoped I’d drop dead when I wouldn’t take back her ticket.”

  “Drop dead? Doesn’t sound ladylike to me. I hope you told her off.”

  “Even better. I smiled sweetly and pointed at the Jesus-fish bumper sticker on her car and told her I’d see her in heaven when I did. Then today I went to a Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous meeting. Otherwise, just an ordinary week so far.”

  “Wait a minute. A what meeting?”

  Jane laughed. “It was an accident. I’ll tell you about it when you get home. What’s Sean up to?”

  “He’s out scouring the town for someone new to break his heart. I swear that kid’s a vampire. He gets by somehow on like three hours’ sleep.”

  “And since he’s gone, what are you doing?”

  “I’m just lying here in bed with your T-shirt, thinking about you.”

  “That’s funny,” Jane replied, “because I was just lying here in my bed thinking about you. Except I had something other than a T-shirt to remind me of you. Something between my legs.”

  “You filthy woman.”

  “Oh, you know you love it.”

  “Actually, yes, I do. Why don’t you do it again and talk me through it on the phone?”

  “I don’t know,” she said, sounding coy. “I might have to go back to that meeting if I do.”

  “Come on, baby. I’m dying over here. It’s been weeks now and I can’t stand it.”

  “Okay, tell me what you’d do to me if you were here.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “First, I’d light a candle to set the mood. Then I’d strip naked and climb on top of you. But I wouldn’t let you touch me. Maybe I’d brush my lips against yours. But no kissing yet. Then I’d undress you with my mouth.”

  “Oh, really, with your mouth?”

  “That’s right. I’d unbutton your shirt with my tongue. I’m very talented, you know.”

  “Oh, I know. What about my bra? It clasps in the back.”

  “I’d just chew through it.”

  “Is that so? Now I’m getting turned on.”

  “Well, you’ll have to wait because I’m not done teasing you yet. Next, I’d pull your panties off with my teeth and then I’d spread your legs and just lie there for a long time, my lips pressing ever so gently against your skin. Then I’d taste you. You’d arch your hips because you want more, but I’d only give you the tip of my tongue. But then I’m so hard now I can’t wait to get inside you. My dick is just aching for it. And that smell. Fuck, your smell. It drives me crazy. I rise up and run my tongue over your nipples, and then I’m kissing you and you’re moaning in my mouth for my cock because I’ve got just the head of it pressed against—”

  Jane let out a huge moan into the phone.

  “What was that?”

  “Just a moan.”

  “No, the other sound. The vibrating.”

  “Sorry, baby. I couldn’t wait for you. My drawer was too close. Go on. Don’t stop. You’re inside me now. Oh, you’re inside me. Can you feel it? I can feel you.”

  “Mmm . . . I can feel it,” he said.

  She threw the covers back so she could work better with the hand that was holding the toy.

  “Are you hard for me right now, baby?” she asked. “Tell me what you’re doing right now. Tell me. Please tell me.”

  “I’ve got my cock in my hands and I’m stroking it, baby. I’m stroking it for you. It’s so hard. I’ve never seen it so hard.”

  “Oh, yes. I like that.”

  “Now I’m massaging myself, but I’m holding back because it feels so good. Oh, Jane. I’m so hard for you— Oh, holy shit!”

  Jane heard a loud thud, as if the phone had dropped. Then she heard someone apologize and the sound of a door closing. Then Caleb was on the line again.

  “Sorry, babe. I’ve gotta go.”

  “Was that Sean?” Jane asked, laughing. “Did he just walk in on you while you were . . .”

  “It’s not funny, babe. I gotta go.”

  Jane was still laughing, even though she was trying not to.

  “Babe, it’s not funny.”

  “Sorry,” she replied, still giggling. “Okay. I love you.”

  “I love you too,” he said.

  Before they hung up, Jane a
dded, “But it is kind of funny.”

  “Okay, maybe it’s a little bit funny.”

  “Good night, my long-distance lover.”

  “Good night, you sexy siren you. I’ll call you tomorrow with the door locked.”

  Jane sat in the lobby turning over in her mind all the possible reasons her boss could want to see her. She had a sneaking suspicion that it wasn’t to give her a raise.

  “Mr. Blanco will see you now,” the receptionist said.

  Jane rose and retucked her uniform shirt, then pulled her shoulders back and followed the receptionist to Mr. Blanco’s office. He stood waiting for her behind his desk. He waved her to a seat, excused the receptionist, and then sat down. Jane was nervous, but then he smiled at her and she felt much more comfortable. He had an easy way about him. A calm energy.

  “And how are you, Jane?”

  “I’m doing well. Thank you, Mr. Blanco.”

  He flashed a smile. “Please. Manuel.”

  “Yes, I remember. Manuel.”

  “So, are you enjoying the job so far?”

  “I think I’m getting the hang of it, yes.”

  “Good. Good.”

  He sat smiling at her for what seemed like a long time. Then he leaned back in his chair and sighed, his hands holding on to the edge of his mahogany desk.

  “I like my job very much also,” he said at last. “There’s an unexplainable reward in doing work well. My father taught me that. He was a cabinetmaker, and he would have been happy to have had me become a cabinetmaker as well, so long as I took pride in the work. But we all find our own paths in life. When I graduated from college, he made me this desk.”

  “It’s a beautiful desk,” Jane said. “I noticed it before.”

  “Yes, he was very talented. Sometimes I wish I had chosen a profession where I could see the fruits of my work. But I digress. Forgive me. Do you have children, Jane?”

  Jane tried not to look upset when she answered. She considered mentioning Melody but then thought better of bringing it up. She might lose her composure.

  “No,” she said, “I don’t have any children.”

  “I have a son,” he offered. “He’s twelve. I hope to instill the same work ethic into him that my father did for me. I can’t make him a desk such as this, but perhaps I will pass this one on to him as a reminder that any work is worthy work as long as it is done well.”