Page 108 of A Matter of Time

“We’ll get you all moved in the morning.”

“Yessir.”

“Get some rest. You’re going to be up late tomorrow,” he told me before he turned and left the apartment.

I locked the door behind him and found, after only moments, that I liked the feel of the place. It was immaculately clean and didn’t have the cramped oppressiveness of my old apartment simply because of the layout, and when I opened the windows, the cool breeze blew through the room. I liked the wooden floors, the overstuffed burlap couch, and the tiny kitchenette. My dishes would arrive the following day, but in the meantime, I would use the circa 1972 set my boss had left me. It sort of went along with everything else.

Outside there were the noises of the night: people on the street, cars going by, the sound of someone playing jazz trumpet, and my neighbors coming and going. It was all very comforting as I sat there and cried over Sam Kage. My heart was breaking, and the fact that he didn’t call back told me that my drama was too much for him, and by leaving I had made the decision easy for him. Logically, it was for the best, but I would miss the presence of him, his strength and dominance. After I closed the window and made sure the radiator was on, I went to lie down on the couch. I didn’t get back up.

In college I had to take a fitness class as one of my requirements, and one of the things we learned was that your body doesn’t know the difference between physical pain and emotional pain. That’s why grief, if left unchecked, can eventually kill you. People who are grieving complain that their whole bodies hurt. I never second-guess them; I take that as the truth and do what I can to get them some food or help clean their house. The way I dragged around for the entire week, Jill and Celia finally told me to have a funeral for my dead love life and move on. I told them we could go out drinking instead. They were game, so we took Piper and hit the Pink Cadillac after work on Friday. After that I took everyone back to my new digs, and they oohed and aahed over how cute it was inside. We were going to have dinner at the Cuban place and were having more drinks at home before we left. All I had was vodka, so I mixed it with cranberry juice and Sprite.

“How was Dane’s dinner party on Monday?” Piper giggled around the lip of her glass.

“Oh screw you,” I groaned, sitting down between Jill and Celia, both of them instantly touching me, hands on my shoulders, hands on my thighs.

“I heard it was awesome,” Jill chimed in. “But you were there until, like, two in the morning, weren’t you?”

“Yeah.” I nodded, which sent them all into peals of laughter.

My boss had had fifteen people over for dinner, and I’d had it catered at the very last minute. It went off flawlessly, but only because I stood in the kitchen and went in and out, checking, making sure the drinks were served, and the appetizers, then the meal, dessert, coffee, and finally nightcaps. I hooked my MP3 player up to his stereo and played jazz all night and had the table decorated with roses from my favorite florist, who always came through for me. The emails and thank-you notes gushed over an elegant, intimate evening that had been enjoyed by all. I had received my usual “well done” in the manner of a brief nod. Dane never said thank you, he just hired movers and made sure I had a safe place to live. It was like, I never got a birthday present, but out of the blue, for no reason, he had given me my Nokia, and on another occasion, he’d told me to take the company card and buy new clothes. It was how he worked.

Dane had made my new rent five hundred and fifty a month, and even when I argued that such a number was insanity, he just gave me a look like I had passed annoying days ago. Since I was being given a gift, I shut up and accepted his generosity. I had ridden with him to the airport, and he’d promised to call when he returned on Sunday. When he was ready to get out of the car, he did what he always did and put a hand on the back of my neck and squeezed tight.

“I’ll be back. Don’t fret.”

I had squinted at him, and the chuckle I got in return was deep.

“Jory, the music is awesome,” Celia said suddenly, bringing me back to the present. “Do you get serenaded like this every night?”

I smiled at her and nodded.

“Lucky.”

“Let’s go eat.” Jill yawned loudly. “I’m hungry, and I wanna play some pool after.”

The walk down the street in the crisp night air was very soothing, and Piper’s arm in mine felt comfortable and welcome. All three of these women genuinely cared for me, and it was relaxing being around them. Later, when we were playing stripes versus solids at the pool hall, Celia finished off her Bloody Mary and looked at me hard.

“What?”

“Thanksgiving is next Thursday. What are you doing this year?”

I bent over the table to take my shot. “I dunno.”

“Why don’t you come to my mom’s with me and Angel? He can use the buffer.”

Her mother and her husband went at it every year. “I dunno…she tears him up, and it’s a bit painful to watch.” The year I’d gone, I’d eaten in the kitchen.

“It’s because she doesn’t think online poker is a real job.”

I agreed, but I would never tell her that. “I know, sweetie. I think I’m gonna pass.”

She shrugged. “Fine, then Jilly gets you, since Piper had you last year.”

“I’m not five, ya know,” I assured her, smiling as I polished off my third mojito.

“You better slow down.” Piper chuckled, massaging my shoulders. “Or we’ll be carrying you out of here.”

“Not that I would mind.” Jill grinned suggestively. “You know my feelings, J. You just haven’t been in bed with the right woman yet.”