Interrupted (The Progress Series) (23 page)

“One question at a time!” he said with a hearty chuckle.

She sighed. “Okay. Let’s start with this then: why did you come back?”

He set his jaw and delayed his response a little longer than Charlie expected. “Well, I lost my job at The Crimson out there last month. So, without a paycheck I couldn’t make rent. So to answer the riding question, no. I had to pawn my bike. And in order to make it back here I had to pawn my drums for the gas money too.”

Charlie showed her concern as she tilted her head to one side. “But, what about your parents? Couldn’t they have—”

“I didn’t tell them. I’m old enough where I shouldn’t be calling Mommy and Daddy for every dime I need. I had to make a decision, so, here I am. They don’t even know I’m back yet.”

She nodded. “So, how did you lose your job?”

He smiled. “I’m sure you can guess.”

“The same way you lost your shot at being a Marine?” She smiled at the fact that she knew him so well.

He frowned. “Yeah, actually. I don’t remember telling you that story. When did I tell you about that?”

“At Karalee’s cabin. On the beach.”
Oh, shit. Please don’t start thinking about that night. Damn  it! Now I’M thinking about that night.

“I didn’t think anyone knew about that story. Huh.”

“You told me a lot of things that night.” She smiled and bit her bottom lip. “Speaking of, do you talk to Bree at all?”

“Nah. I have no idea where she’s at. I think I Googled her name a few months ago, and she’s an assistant to some hotshot at the Capitol.”

Charlie glanced down as she felt a small vibration on the table.
Is that my phone? Where is my phone? Damn it, it’s charging on my kitchen counter. Where is that vibration coming fro
—
…oh no.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, fine. Why?”

“You’re bouncing your knee again. Is there something…I mean, are you nervous?”

He stilled his leg and smiled. “Yeah, a little.”

“Why? I mean, what do you have to be nervous about?”

He shook his head and with a tight smile said, “Nothing, I guess. It’s nothing.”

The waitress delivered their meals and quietly left the tableside. Charlie took the first few bites of her salad and set down her fork.

“Can I ask you kind of a heavy question? I know what I said earlier, but I’m just a little worried.”

Swallowing a forkful of penne, he nodded.

“Tell me about the table. Why do you have…Did you make it?”

His lips parted and he cleared his throat. Conflicted with the answer to her question, he wiped his mouth then folded his arms on the table. “When I left here, it was a bad time for me.” He furrowed his brow and looked down to his hands. “Jake had kicked me out of the house, and then there was you and me.” He paused again, taking his hat off to scratch his head. Leaving his hair messed, he set the hat on the chair beside him. “Things kind of came crashing down for me. I went to the beach one day last summer. I don’t know what I had in mind or the reasons I had for going that day, but once I got into the water...” He shrugged and looked at Charlie. “I just wanted it all to end. I wanted all the shit to just go away. My depression hadn’t shown any signs of easing for months. I wasn’t riding, I wasn’t eating—hell, the whole time I was there I didn’t even unpack my drums. So anyway, I was out there in the middle of the ocean, bobbing back and forth, and I just tried to…end it.”

Charlie closed her eyes and tried to imagine Jess in the water. Her forehead creased and when she opened her eyes again she nodded, urging him to continue.

He shook his head and looked down. “I woke up on the shore lying next to a piece of wood. I don’t know if it saved me that day, or even if I wanted to be saved, but I brought the wood back to my apartment and started building.”

Charlie cleared her throat. Realizing she still wore a grimace, she removed the expression and took a deep breath. “And, how are you now?”

“Better. I mean, as good as I can get, I guess. Now I’m stuck a bit more on the other side of it all. But, right now is about as normal as I get. Today is a good day.”

“I’m not sure what you mean by that. The other side? You mean the manic side?”

“Yeah. It’s still there. Both of those demons, fighting for my attention. I’d like to say I’m strong enough to fend them off when I want, but well, you know very well how I don’t usually succeed in that.”

Trying to grasp at the concept, she asked another question. “Explain it to me. Tell me about your normal. I mean, aren’t you just like the rest of us?”

“Yeah, sometimes. But, I’m a sort of prisoner of my own mind. It decides how it wants me to be. For example, sometimes I’m somewhere in public—a restaurant, the gas station, wherever—and my thoughts start overflowing. It’s almost like whispers, only…none of them actually form words. It’s like static, very quiet static that all started with individual thoughts that began to overlap each other. At some point it morphs into a shushing. Almost like my mind has too many things it’s thinking about at one time. Then the volume will start to pick up, until it starts flushing out everything else. First the Musak goes. Then, the chatter of other people. Until pretty soon all I can hear is myself screaming. So loud that I want to grab my chest and pull my hair. And then I look around, waiting for someone to kick me out of the place. And that’s when I realize that even my own screams are in my head. I try to regroup and tell myself that nothing just happened. No one is staring at me. Just hand the man your money so you can leave.” His tone began to soften. “And so I hand him the money and I exit quietly, no one knowing what just happened or the battle I just fought with my own thoughts. It’s just easier to avoid those situations. I’ll wait to go into the gas station to buy something if there are more than three people in the store, keeping the witnesses to a minimum if I am unable to control it. Sometimes I can stop it. Sometimes I can’t. It puts me on edge. It makes it difficult to filter words. It makes me impatient. It makes me paranoid. It’s a fucking nightmare.”

Charlie tried to slow her breathing and removed the frightened look on her face. “That’s what you call your normal?” she said quietly.

He smirked. “No, normally I’m just like you. It’s not like that all the time. Just the times when it’s most inconvenient,” he said, winking and taking a bite of his now cold pasta. “You think I’m crazy, don’t you?”

Her jaw dropped. “No! Not at all. Why would you say that?”

“I’m not an idiot, Charlie. I know how it sounds.”

“No, Jess. Never. It doesn’t sound crazy, it sounds…miserable,” she said, dipping her head down again.

“Well, it’s all relative. I suppose
your
mind does things that you don’t logically approve of. You never really get used to it, but you learn how to cope. When I’m having a good day, I don’t think about what it feels like to be manic or depressed anyway,” he said with another shrug.

She pushed her salad plate away, suddenly not wanting to finish.
God, I wish there was something I could do for him. I wish there was a way I could help him.

“Knock it off,” he said causally, chewing his last bite and pushing his plate to the edge of the table.

“What?”

“You’re looking at me like I’m part of your caseload. I’m not something to analyze and pick apart, Charlie. And no, there’s nothing you can do to help.”

There has to be something.

He rolled his eyes with a grin. “I’m changing the subject now, okay? What are you doing for the rest of the day?”

“Oh, um…” Her head shook, trying to follow the shift of subjects.

“Because if you’ll let me, I want to take you somewhere.”

After a sharp inhale through her teeth, she said, “I don’t think that would be such a good idea.”

“Hey, have I given you any impression that I’m going to hurt you or make you feel bad?”

“No, but there
never
was any warning, was there? That shit just comes out of nowhere,” she said, looking at him sideways with a smirk.

“Come on. I told you, today is a good day.” He stood and reached for her hand.

“Fine. But I’m driving separately, just in case I have to run away from you again,” she said while laughing. “Where are we going anyway?”

“It’s a surprise. It’s kind of a drive, though. Are you sure you want to follow me?”

“Oh, yes. I’m sure.”

What am I doing? What the hell am I doing? I’m following JESSE to an unknown destination, without my phone, behind my fiancé’s back. What was I thinking!?

Okay, calm yourself. Think. Why are you doing this? Think! Okay, so lunch was actually kind of amazing. He was so sweet and innocent. He opened up. He wasn’t holding back or buttering me up. We were just talking, like we used to. I didn’t feel any sexual tension—well, not coming from him anyway—and he admitted to me about his failed attempt at suicide. That had to be hard to talk about. I mean, especially for him. And especially to me! I’m still a little concerned about that. Why would he build a table from the driftwood that saved him and decide to put my chessboard in it? I mean, what is the meaning behind that? There’s gotta be a reason.

Okay, so we’ve been driving for almost an hour now. Where is he taking me? Does he have any hidden motives? Well, I’ll just have to see what kind of a place this is. I won’t even stop if it’s in the middle of the woods or an abandoned warehouse… I still don’t trust him.

Charlie pulled into a brightly lit parking lot, and chose the closest spot she could to the building. She threw her cigarette butt out of her window and put the car in park.

Looks innocent enough. It’s just a bar with a flashing light that says ‘live music,’ with the “i” in “live” flickering to an “o” on occasion. It doesn’t look dirty or abandoned and there are no red flags going up.

Charlie opened her door and Jesse was waiting with his hands in his pockets.

“Are you ready for this?” he beamed with an impatient bounce in his knees.

“Um, well I really don’t know. It’s just a bar, right?”

“Yes and no. Come on.” He bounded toward the front door, and in a pair of low-slung cargo shorts he looked like a little boy skipping down a suburban street. Charlie couldn’t keep from grinning as she followed him.

Immediately inside was a man holding out his hand. Signaling toward her purse, Jesse reached in his back pocket for his wallet and slid out his driver’s license. He handed it to the bouncer with a flick of his chin. “Hey, Barney. Big crowd tonight?”

“Well I’ll be damned. If it isn’t Jesse Anders! Hey man, the boss is here tonight, so don’t be startin’ anything. Once he’s sees you he won’t take his eye off you the whole night.” Barney laughed. “But I’m glad to know that the only man in
Minnesota that can get his blood pressure cookin’ is back in town.” He winked and reached for Charlie’s ID “Hey there, pretty lady. Watch out for this one.” He flashed a mouthful of perfect teeth and his smile was contagious.

“Come here often, I take it?” Her eyebrows rose and she looked at him out of the corner of her eye as they walked inside.

The bar was small and dark. A dozen mismatched tables were scattered around a tiny dance floor. A stage was at the far end and a few band members were setting up their equipment.

Jesse selected a seat that he seemed familiar with as his focus never faltered from a particular table. “What do you want to drink?” he asked, pulling a chair out for her.

Her smile turned down as she tried to block out any idea that this was a date.

“Um, I’m okay with water for now. Thanks.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said, taking her seat and avoiding eye contact.

“Charlie? You’re not going to sit here all night and not have a beer or two. Relax and enjoy the show.”

The show?

“Fine, a beer is good. Any kind,” she said as he turned to walk away.

Think about Sam. Think about Sam. Think about Sam.

“I hope a Miller Lite is okay,” he said when he returned, handing her a bottle.

“Yes, that’s fine. Thank you.”

“So I wanted to talk to you about something. It’s important.”

“Sure.” She winced.

He laughed at her expression. “I just want to make sure we have a good time tonight. You don’t need to think about your fiancé and I won’t think about…” He trailed off, not wanting to admit any impending thoughts.

“What? You won’t think about what?” she asked.

He took his cap off and scratched his head.

“Ugh! Leave it off! I can’t see your eyes with that thing on, anyway!” she shouted as she grabbed his baseball cap and threw it across the room.

His eyes shot open and he looked in the direction to where his cap now lay on the floor.

“So,” she cleared her throat and flashed a quick smile, “you were saying?”

He laughed in astonishment. “Okay. You didn’t need to be so dramatic.” He chuckled. He shook his head and focused on more serious words. “I just won’t think about what happened between us, and the evening should be fine.”