However, dinner turned into a tour of the dog kennel, and once my aunt got started on the topic of dog rescuing, it tended to go on and on.…
No one wants to hear about neuterings gone wrong, especially when they’re about to lock the door to their apartment and exchange mind-melting orgasms. Justno.
Mostly I was annoyed that the magic border surrounding our paradise had been broken. And once that happened, it was as if the universe decided to open the floodgates and let everything in. Because just when we were finally,finallydismissed and heading back to my apartment, Jane got a frantic call from Velvet.
“She’s not making sense,” Jane said, hanging up. “Something about a fight that just happened, or is about to happen? She’s scared. She and Erika Jones are fighting. She’s stuck and she doesn’t want to call my dad.”
“She needs a ride,” I said unhappily.
Jane nodded. “I think she’s…”
“Not sober?”
Jane nodded.
“Fine. Where’s she at?” I said, sighing.
“That’s the worst part,” Jane said, giving me a mirthless look. “She’s at Betty’s.”
I stilled. “Seriously? Inside the bar?”
“Yeah.”
“Shit.” Well, Betty’s wasn’t the dam, but it was probably the last place in town Jane wanted to gootherthan the dam.
I didn’t really associate Betty’s with Jane’s drowning anymore. I just hated it because of the kind of people that hung out there. People like Velvet and Erika Jones. Eddie’s friend from the ski chalet incident, Tim Albertson. Betty’s had become party central.
“We can leave Frida in my apartment,” I suggested. The pup was accustomed to it now. I ran her back up there and locked up, then we took the little hybrid car that Jane had driven from the lodge. Unlike my Jeep, it had a roof and sides; if Velvet was going to be a sloppy handful, better for her not to fall out along the side of the road.
It was a warm summer night, and the parking lot was jammed. You could hear the band playing from out here, a group who sounded suspiciously like the clowns that lost Battle of the Bands. “Is this Tell & Show?” I said. “Are we in hell or something? How do they keep getting gigs around here?”
“Don’t know, don’t care.”
“Hey. You good?” I was a little worried that Jane was havingsome flashbacks from the dam, but she said she was okay. “If you need me to drive or ghostbust anything, I’m here.”
“I’m just pissed at Velvet,” she said, pulling into a parking space in the gravel lot. “This summer has been one big deterioration for her. It’s like she’s taking ten steps backward. And she’s better than this.”
She turned off the engine and texted Velvet, sighing. Then she looked at me and gave me a weary smile.
“Don’t get mad,” I said, “but you sound more like a sister than her assistant.”
“Just someone who’s tried to self-destruct and doesn’t want to see other people do the same.”
I understood that.
We got out of the car. “She’s not answering my texts and my phone is about to go dead,” Jane said. “How am I supposed to be her ride if she won’t get in the car? What do we do? Just wait?”
“Text her my number in case your phone goes dead,” I suggested. “That way she’ll be able to get in touch with either one of us.”
I glanced around the dark lot. People were filing in the main entrance, where a bouncer stood, checking IDs and stamping hands. No sign of Velvet, and we’d never get in through the main entrance, anyway. But I knew how we could. “Follow me,” I told Jane, taking her hand. “We’re going through the side door where they get their deliveries.”
I may have been kicked out of the Sarafian house, but I still had the name. And when we walked up to the door where a guyfrom the kitchen was smoking a cigarette, all it took was a little smooth-brain small talk.
“Yeah, man. Go on through the kitchen. I didn’t see you, though,” he said with a laugh.
I held on to Jane, and we strode through the kitchen as though it was nothing. No one even looked up except a guy washing dishes, and when I held up my hand to wave, he acted too tired to bother with me.
Through a swinging door we went. And after a short walk through a hallway with offices and bathrooms, we were in the main bar. It was noisy and raucous, and it smelled like pineapple and beer. Everything was covered in too much pine and multi-colored lights, and the crowd was a mix of rich twentysomething party boys and sad, old drunks who were my dad’s age and trying to relive their youth.
