December Rain (8 page)

Robin’s lack of smirk is a clear answer. “We’re going out with the girls like we used to. We’re gonna relax and bond damn it.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I’m not going up there to discuss my problems.”

“We don’t have to talk about anything… she promised she wouldn’t bring it up unless you did, and you know Ri won’t make you talk.” Robin disappears into the kitchen with her arms full.

“I can’t believe you did this to me!”

“Fuck it! Let’s just get away from all of this for a couple days.” Robin points to the sink that’s full and the surrounding mess. “It’s really disgusting in here.”

“I didn’t invite you over remember? Drop-in.”

“I’ll send Carla over while we’re gone to clean this up.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“Yes you are.” Robin storms towards the make-shift bedroom.

“Right now? This minute?”

“Yep,” she hollers.

“No!”

“This is happening.”

“Too much effort. I have shit to do.” Monica tries to sound convincing as she notices the stack of magazines and mail near the front door that she hasn’t looked at. The sound of a hanger screeching on metal snaps her attention. Robin has a stripped sweater in her hands when Monica walks in.

“This looks fine. Great idea using that pipe to hang stuff on too. Now grab a pair of jeans, some panties...” She turns to scan her shoes. “These boots are going too, and you’re done. No effort. Oh... and where’s that moto jacket I got you. That’s a must.”

Monica watches as Robin stuffs her things into a green duffel bag.
Am I too old to throw a fit? She’s not gonna let me out of this even if I scream. She’ll drug me like the last time.
Monica sinks onto the bed in defeat.

Monica is a pouting child sitting near the gate waiting to board. Robin has a stack of trashy celebrity mags and a huge bottle of water, more than anyone needs for a flight that’s barely an hour. The flight attendant starts making announcements so Robin hands over her ticket, and for the first time in weeks her brow lifts. She’s never flown anywhere first class. When she looks for confirmation Robin grins.

“You didn’t think I’d go coach right?” She winks and nudges her shoulder. When it’s time for them to board Monica finds herself walking a little taller as hundreds of eyes watch. The perks of the flight are uplifting, literally. Monica keeps her feet up in the recliner style leather seats the whole time, and has two mimosas with an omelet that kick her mood up half a beat. Robin is of course pleased with herself, but her constant texting before and after the flight has Monica nervous.

“So what’s the plan?” Monica asks as they walk through SFO.

“We’ll drop off our bags early and get to the Marina for lunch with the ladies. Then we’re off to get facials before hitting Top of the Mark for some jazz and classy martinis.”

Monica scrunches her brow. “What are we fifty? I thought you said we were going out like we used to.”

“Alright, we’re going out like we used to want to, but couldn’t afford to. Let’s try to have a good time.”

“Maybe we could go out out. Like to a real bar and hear something a little more... dance worthy.” Robin gives her a glare for being ungrateful. “The facials sound fantastic! But the Top of the Mark is where you hook up with lawyers and wannabe beatniks for overpriced food and drinks.”

Tristan and Rianne are waiting at a little cafe in the Marina when they get out of their cab. Rianne’s long curly black hair is big and wild to match her aviators and feather earrings, while Tristan’s cherry lip gloss is the perfect pop of color to her funeral attire. Monica is more relieved to see their beautiful faces than she thought as they stand with their arms open wide. The hugs are heavy like she imagines a mother would give, but their forced nature makes it a bit humiliating as well.

“Are you okay sweetie?” Rianne asks holding her hand.

“No. Not really, but I’m here... so I guess that’s supposed to fix it.”

“Cut the shitty attitude. We’re here to love you fucker.” Robin sticks out her tongue.

“Mature.” Monica turns to Tristan sensing she’s all bottled up and waiting to clear her chest. “What’s on your mind? Might as well get it out now. How could I hurt Alex? What happened? Are you going to work it out? Just ask what you want.”

She tries to act offended, but she does want to ask all of those questions and more. Rianne gives her a pleading look with a tilted head to caution her to be gentle. “I’m just hurt that you didn’t tell me when you were staying at my house only a month ago.”

“We weren’t getting a divorce a month ago.”

“No, but you were having troubles and I was there... you could have talked to me.”

“It wouldn’t have changed anything. I’m sorry.”

“I knew something was up. I mean, there was a lot of naked going around on Halloween.”

Monica smiles a little embarrassed but then gets sad at the memory.

Ri swoops into gear. “I saw photos of that costume. It was awesome. You looked hot.” Monica’s smile lifts.

“I should’ve known with all the weight loss.” Tristan continues until Robin finally elbows her.

“Well I put a couple pounds back on last week so no worries there.”

“Are you running? Exercising?” Monica shakes her head at Ri and reaches for the menu.

“Alright, let’s get some salads ladies. Nothing that will bloat before our facials.” Robin smiles and winks.

Tristan golf claps. “I’m so excited! My skin is a mess.” Clearly Tristan’s skin has never been a mess, but she’s trying to shift the mood now that she’s feeling bad. “Monica what facial wash do you use? Your skin always looks so great.” Monica looks at her stoic for a moment. “I’m serious.”

“By the way,” Robin interrupts, “Monica doesn’t like my plan to hit Top of The Mark. She wants to go out and dance.”

“Or hear a band. Just something that doesn’t make me feel old. We’re not old ladies. You said we’d go out like we used to... we used to go to dive bars and listen to rock bands.”

Tristan scrunches her face at Rianne who adds with a smile, “Jack’s band is playing tonight.”

Monica’s eyes light up. “Seriously? They’re back together?”

Ri’s eyes reflect a sadness. “Yeah, they’ve been playing live for almost a year now. They recorded a new demo a month ago and have a new manager.”

Monica lets that sink in as she realizes her distance has made them nearly strangers. “That’s great. We have to go see them then.” Robin gives a glare to Rianne for bringing it up.

“I was alright with doing the Mark or something different to be honest though. You know, I see them play all the time,” Ri says.

“Yeah, I kinda wanted to do the classy girl’s night too, like Sex In The City with martinis,” Tristan adds.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” Robin says.

“Wait. Wasn’t this supposed to be my weekend? Wasn’t I dragged here to have a good time and go out like we used to?” Monica uses air quotes to emphasize her building anger. “I want to go hear Jack’s band and dance.”

“You got to dance a lot last time you were here, didn’t you?” Tristan regrets opening her mouth immediately and leans back as if she’s about to be slapped. “It’d just be great to be able to hear each other and have a conversation. You know, catch up on big events in our lives.”

“Let it go.” Monica glares at her.

“What? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. That party was just so loud. I’m sure it was great for dancing. You did dance all night, just not with us.”

“Tris, I’m sorry we acted like idiots in your house and ruined your double date plans, but I apologized the next morning, so drop it.”

“I know. I’m not mad about that anymore. It just feels like you moved away and kinda ended our friendships.” Monica knows she’s somewhat right. “I just miss talking to you. I miss frozen yogurt and Buster Keaton and your great bargain shopping skills.”

“Alright this is getting painful. Just kiss kiss and make plans to play Barbies tomorrow.” Robin sets her menu down and motions for the waiter.

“Tris I don’t exactly talk to Ri every day either.” Ri knows the real reason for their distance is Jack, but she humors the situation with a smile.

“Well, I want you to know I’m still here for you. Hoi too.”

“Thank you. I love you,” Monica says with a hug.

Robin looks smug again at her handy work though her irritation tolerance is already pushed to its limit. That gloating face sticks through their lunch, and the cab ride to the day spa. Unfortunately the spa mistakes their group facials as a pre-wedding celebration, and gives Monica a robe that says Bride in pink calligraphy on the front. When Monica turns to show them, laughing hysterically, Robin storms off pissed. It cost her a small fortune to get four estheticians scheduled at once, so she makes the manager feel so bad, they got an extra bottle of wine and complimentary pedicures.

“This has turned out kinda awesome so far,” Monica says to Robin. “Thank you for dragging me.” Robin reaches to hold her hand now that her face mask has hardened and smart-ass comments aren’t possible. Monica’s mask starts to firm and she takes Tristan’s hand on the other side. “This is the best divorce shower a girl can have.”

“Ow,” Ri cries in pain as she laughs. They all start giggling under the painful mud that tugs and tears their skin. Monica starts dodging playful punches and towel smacks from all sides.

It’s dark by the time they leave the spa and hop a cab for the bar. It’s a familiar dive, the kind of place that let you smoke even after it was illegal and didn’t care how many people were in the restroom at once. There are a lot of stories in those walls that luckily can’t speak. Monica strolls in with a swagger ready to drink and hopefully dance her troubles away. When her eyes adjust to the dark room she sees Jack sitting in a booth near the stage with his guitar. She throws him a nod. There are only a handful of people since it’s still early and the background music is faint, but when she spots an old jukebox her plans perk up.

Monica smacks her hand on the bar. “Johnnie Walker Black, neat.” She goes straight for the digital jukebox and starts pressing numbers. “Fuck. It costs a fortune to play music now.” It’s not clear who she’s hollering at, but the sexy rocker-type bartender with tatted sleeves whistles. She turns just in time to catch a set of keys.

“Play what you want. Just turn it to the right and select. Then come get your drink.” He winks, hoping his charm and smile will win him some points, but she just gives him a brotherly thumbs up.

“Erotic City” by Prince fills the room with smiles and nods. She smiles at the bartender handing him the keys. “It’s a Prince night. Hope you’re a fan.” She tosses the drink back and starts slithering her dance moves alone in front of the stage.

“Why is this so familiar?” Tristan says to Rianne.

“Let her blow off some steam,” Rianne says. “We should get out there too. It’d do us good to let loose.”

Robin says, “I’m down. Let me finish this martini.” She slurps it down like a pro. “Done, let’s go.”

The ladies join Monica just as the song tappers into Prince’s “Kiss” which they happily butcher every sexy word for old time’s sake. Monica gives her gals a hot grind or two as they all laugh. The bartender suddenly loves Prince. This is the best free entertainment they’ve had in a long time. People start steadily flowing into the bar adding whistles and cheering to their grooves. Tristan is the most reserved with her white girl bounce, but Robin and Rianne give Monica a run for her pole dancer money. Monica gets Tristan to shake her tits just once though and it makes her howl with laughter. It’s the most fun any of them have had in a decade. The playlist continues along with another round of drinks. After the second song though, Tristan disappears to sit at the bar so she can text photos to Antonio. She notices Jack in the background of one photo watching the show, but his eyes are on Monica.

Tristan: When r u coming? They r already wild! Note Jack’s

stare.

Antonio: Oh no. On my way in thirty ish :)

Other people start joining in the dance, which before long kills their private party. Robin can’t drink a martini while dancing so she hits the barstool as well, pulling Rianne along with her. She hoped Monica would link on, but she stays on the dance floor.

“We give her “Little Red Corvette” then she’s taking five.”

Ri laughs at Robin. “You know you’d be a great mom.”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding? That’s not gonna happen.”

“No? Not even with the right man?”

“It would take one hell of a man to deal with me and a kid.”

They start looking at the photos on Tristan’s phone. Ri sees Jack drooling over Monica immediately and looks around for him just as he takes a seat at the other end of the bar alone.

“Johnnie Walker Black, neat.” Jack’s eyes focus on his gnarled thumbnail as his nostrils flare.

Rianne’s face falls pale as she walks over to him and takes a seat. “You’re having a drink?”

“Yep.” His eyes avoid her judgment as the bartender sets the glass on the black napkin. Jack just sits and stares at it.