See,he writes,I didn’t even know you were drunk last night! Wanna get food?
Mom would have called this kismet. The thing I need the most, offered to me: to not be alone, to have my friend back.
Yeah.
I huddle underneath a green awning but the rain is that misty kind that coats my face, seeps into my clothes, until everything feels sticky and damp. I try to blow a hunk of hair out of my face but it’s too heavy and wet. I sigh.
I’m the human embodiment of Eeyore.
Pulling out my phone, I tap the screen, searching for a message from Jeremy, but it’s pointless. He makes fashionably late look early. I decide to text him instead:
Getting a spot at the bar.
The restaurant is crowded and too dark for a brunch place but there are two empty high-backed barstools at the dark wood bar. Just as the bartender sets menus in front of me, Jeremy appears at my side, soaking his chair and me as he pulls off his raincoat.
“Sorry I’m late.” He sounds breathless.
“It’s okay,” I say, since technically I no longer have anywhere to be today, or any day now that I don’t have a job.
“I’ll have the eggs Benedict,” I say, placing my regular brunch order and sliding my menu back to the bartender. “And a coffee.”
“Whoa.I just got here,” Jeremy complains but he leans over the bar top to peer at his menu. “Oooh, I’ll have the waffles with a side of bacon and...” He gazes around the crowded room. “A Bloody Mary, please.” He turns to me. “Hair of the dog.”
Jeremy slings an arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer to him, shaking me in a one-armed hug and patting my head like one would a large, friendly dog. “How was the rest of your night? Man, I got wasted at Amy’s party. Is she pissed?”
“I’m fucking my boss.” The words escape and I’m so thankful that the din of the other patrons has drowned out my verbal diarrhea to our neighbors. I lean back on the barstool, flattening down the hair he’s dislodged.
“’Kay.” I can feel Jeremy nodding beside me. “Hey, thanks,” he says to the bartender as he sets our drinks down in front of us. Jeremy turns to me and finally I make eye contact. It’s not as embarrassing as I thought it would be. There’s no judgement on his face. Just curiosity and mild humor.
“So the kind of uptight lady that came to that happy hour thing last week?” Jeremy sips his drink.
“Well, we’re not together anymore. Actually, she dumped me.”
Jeremy squints at me with one eye open, like following my line of thinking is a little too much while his liver is trying to do a full-body cleanse.
“Chambers, I needcontext,” he begs, pulling a smile to my lips.
Our food arrives while I give Jeremy a rundown of my first day, what Corrine heard, and everything that happened after that, including our secret relationship, how I wanted more up until Friday night, and the termination letter—effective immediately—I found in my inbox this morning.
I feel terrible for whichever HR person had to process that paperwork over the weekend.
“Have you told Amy?” he asks around a bite of his bacon. My plate sits untouched. I pick at my English muffin and nod.
“What does she say?”
I shrug. “Corrine is kind of the reason I’ve been such a shitty friend lately. I don’t think Amy...”
“Likes her?” Jeremy offers.
I nod.
“Okay, well, if you got caught last night she’s probably been fired, too, right?”
I shrug. A termination letter sat, shiny and condemning, in my inbox this morning but I haven’t asked Corrine about her job. But now I feel a little hungover. I was so obsessed with my own pain I didn’t stop to think what might have happened to Corrine after I left. After I left her with Richard.
A slow, sweaty panic builds up my spine.
“If you’re both unemployed, you can be together? Right?”
