Jar of Hearts

  “Ang, I’m gonna go.”

  Her friend looked up, lips shiny with Mike’s saliva. “Why? It’s only eleven.”

  The room spun again, and Geo placed a hand on the wall to support herself. “I don’t feel so great.”

  “Holy shit, you’re wasted. I told you not to eat the fruit.” Angela looked back at Mike, then up at Geo. “How are you getting home?”

  “I’ll walk,” Geo said. “I need the air.”

  “If you need to go with her, that’s cool,” Mike said, not sounding particularly disappointed. It made Geo think Angela was right about him. You didn’t get a girl to sit on your lap and make out with you—let alone the most beautiful girl in school—and then let her go home early without a hint of protest.

  “I’m really okay,” Geo said. “Stay where you are. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  She found her coat underneath a stack of other coats in the front living room and slipped it on as Kaiser was coming through the front door. He was with Barb Polanco, and they were holding hands. Geo felt a slight sting, but it passed. She had a boyfriend, after all. Why couldn’t Kaiser have a girlfriend?

  Because, her brain said stubbornly. Because he’s supposed to be in love with you forever and ever; that’s the way this is supposed to work. A completely selfish thought, but it’s how she felt, nonetheless.

  “Heading out already?” Kaiser said to her, helping Barb out of her coat.

  Barb smiled shyly at Geo. She looked even blonder this week than she had the week before. Since when did Kaiser like blondes? Geo forced herself to smile back.

  “Yeah, I’m wiped.”

  Looking at her closely, he frowned. “You drunk?”

  “Only a little,” she said.

  “Did you eat the fruit?”

  “I’m fine,” Geo said, annoyed. “I’ll see you guys Monday.”

  “How are you getting home?”

  “She’ll be okay,” Barb said to him. “She’s got it handled. Let’s go get a drink.”

  “One minute,” he said to her, handing her back her coat. “Geo. Let’s go talk.”

  Geo rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, Kai,” she said again, but he took her by the elbow and led her to the laundry room down the hall, leaving Barb standing by herself in the front hallway, holding her coat.

  He shut the door, muting the music pulsing throughout the rest of the house. Geo leaned against the dryer and looked up at him. The room smelled fresh, like laundry detergent and fabric softener and the lavender sachets that Chad’s mom kept in a wicker bowl on one of the shelves. “Shouldn’t you be with your girlfriend?”

  “She’s not my girlfriend,” he said, looking down at her with concern.

  “I’m a little drunk, so what?” The room was spinning. “I just need to lie down.”

  “I’ll take you home.”

  Geo shook her head. “Not necessary. Besides, I don’t think Barb would appreciate it.”

  “Are you okay with that?” he said. “About me and Barb?”

  “Why would you even ask me that?” She frowned. The lights in the laundry room were bright, and she had to squint to look up at him. “I didn’t ask you what you thought about me and Calvin.”

  “I know you didn’t. But I’ll tell you what I think if you want me to.”

  “Kai, come on—” Geo took a step toward the door, but he barred her way.

  “Why can’t it be me and you?” he said, moving close to her. Their hips were almost touching. He placed a hand on her back, sliding it up underneath her hair until it was cupping the back of her neck. “You have to know how I feel about you.”

  “Because we’re best friends,” she said. Had he always been this cute, or was it because he had a girlfriend now? His blue eyes were locked on hers. He had long eyelashes.

  “That should be the reason why, not the reason why not,” he said.

  “What about Barb? And Calvin?”

  “Well, I like Barb…,” he said, but didn’t continue.

  “Well, I love Calvin,” she said.

  He dropped his hand. That hurt him. She could see it in his face. But what was she supposed to do? Lie?

  Suddenly, he moved in, and his lips were on hers. They were surprisingly soft, filled with urgency. Geo didn’t respond at first, but then she did, opening her mouth. His hands were on the sides of her face, and he kissed her like she was the only person who existed to him. He tasted so different from Calvin. Sweeter. Younger. Gentler. Which was exactly how he was. She felt herself responding, leaning into him, and it was a whole different feeling. With Calvin, there was never anything physical that wasn’t accompanied by some degree of guilt. Guilt that he was too old, guilt that he was taking over her life, guilt that she was hiding him from her father. With Kaiser, there was none of that. She was fully herself, and she felt safe. Kaiser would never hurt her, never push her to be anything other than who she was … but she had the capacity to shred him to pieces.

  No.

  She pushed him away. “Kai, I can’t.”

  “Geo—” His breath was coming fast, his face flushed.

  “Barb’s waiting for you.”

  “Let’s talk about this.”

  She moved past him and opened the laundry room door. The music flooded back in, surrounding them, taking away the intimacy. At the end of the hallway, Barb was talking to another girl, looking over her shoulder periodically at the laundry room. When she saw Kaiser, she looked relieved.

  “She’s a nice girl, Kai,” Geo said. “Go, have fun.”

  “And what about you?” Kaiser was staring at her, his expression a blend of frustration and longing. “This thing with Calvin … it’s real?”

  “I love him,” she said again. “And if you love me, you’ll be happy for me. Like I’m happy for you.”

  She left the laundry room, walking quickly down the hallway and back to the front door. She gave Barb’s arm a quick squeeze before she left.

  “He’s all yours,” Geo said.

  The cold night air blasted her in the face when she left the house. Chad Fenton’s parties usually went on long past midnight, but she was fading fast. Her father was working at the hospital tonight, and Calvin was expecting her to stop by his place for a bit, but she was too tired to go over there now. Oh, well. They could fight about it tomorrow.

  There was a presence behind her on the sidewalk, and she turned around. Angela was a few steps back and hustling to catch up, the wind whipping her unbuttoned coat back. Neither one of them, in their short dresses, was dressed appropriately for this weather, which was colder than usual.

  “What are you doing?” Geo said in surprise. “I thought you were staying.”

  “Fuck him,” Angela said breathlessly, finally catching up. She was carrying her oversize purse and she switched it from her left shoulder to the right. Her camera must be inside it; Geo had seen her snapping pictures of everyone earlier that night. “He is so gay. His tongue was doing all the right things, but his dick? Like an overcooked spaghetti noodle.”

  Geo had to laugh.

  “We’re still going to prom, though. Assuming nobody better comes along. For me, not him. I’m as good as it gets, as far as he’s concerned.” Angela said this matter-of-factly, without a trace of arrogance. When it came to her social status, she was practical. If Mike Bennett was gay and in the closet, then he needed her to keep up appearances. Which was fine, as long as there was something in it for her.

  “What about your car?” Geo said, the wind biting her bare legs.

  “Still at Chad’s. I’ve had three beers.” Puffs of white breath accompanied Angela’s words. “I can’t drive home like this. My dad will be in the kitchen playing poker with his golf buddies and he’ll smell me. I’ll come back for the car in the morning. My parents think I’m sleeping at your place, anyway, so they won’t even know.”

  “I told my dad I was sleeping at your place so I could stay out late.” Geo shivered under her thin coat. “Do you have an extra sweater in your bag
?”

  “No, all I have is my camera. It weighs a ton.” Angela thought for moment. “Let’s go to Calvin’s.”

  Geo gave her a side glance. “Seriously?”

  Her best friend shrugged. “I told you I was willing to get to know him, and I meant it. Besides, maybe he can call Jonas to come over and we can all hang out. It would be nice to make out with a guy I can actually turn on.”

  Geo considered it. She was tired, but she did promise Calvin she’d go over there. “Let’s go this way, then. It’ll take us twenty minutes to walk there. I should call him.”

  “Nah, let’s surprise him,” Angela said. “Besides, I don’t want to go back to Chad’s. When I left, Kai was in the corner with Backseat Barbie. Swear to god, her hands were down his pants.”

  “Shut up,” Geo said. “I don’t want to know that.”

  “Knew it bothered you.” Her friend’s voice was triumphant.

  Geo considered telling her about the kiss in the laundry room, then decided against it. That was between her and Kaiser. Some things were private, after all.

  Calvin lived in a house on Trelawney Street, in a two-story Craftsman that had been converted into three apartments. The main floor housed an unmarried couple with a baby, and the apartment on the second floor was shared by two sisters in their thirties, both single, both of whom had hit on Calvin numerous times. He lived in the small studio above the garage. It used to be where the owner practiced his drums, and it was fully soundproofed. The studio had a separate entrance at the back, and Geo and Angela giggled as they made their way up the steep steps.

  The lights were off inside the apartment, but Geo could see the flickering of the TV behind the window blinds. She rapped on the door and waited. No answer.

  “Sure he’s home?” Angela asked.

  “His car’s parked on the street.” Geo rapped again, and a few seconds later the light above the door flicked on. Calvin opened the door, hair slightly disheveled, wearing an old pair of low-slung jeans and nothing else. He had a beer in one hand. The light reflected off his lean stomach, highlighting every ab muscle. He looked like a god.

  Angela’s eyes trailed up and down his body. “Well, fuck me,” she said.

  Calvin raised an eyebrow.

  “So this is what you’ve been busy with,” Angela said, more to herself than to Geo. “I get it now. You gonna let us in, cowboy? Because it’s freezing out. You’re hot, but you’re not that hot.”

  “That’s a matter of opinion,” Calvin said, standing to the side so they could enter. “Watch your step. Part of the doormat is sticking up.”

  Angela went first, giving Calvin a knowing look as she passed him. Geo hesitated, her mind flashing back to Kaiser in the laundry room, the smell of those lavender sachets as he kissed her, the way he felt against her, loving and urgent and gentle.

  Then she forced her best friend out of her mind, stepping carefully but purposefully over the threshold and into Calvin’s domain.

  21

  Geo’s new iPhone rings loudly, waking her from the first real sleep she’s had since Hazelwood. She reaches for it blindly and checks the number. It’s nothing she recognizes, but she answers it, anyway. An automated voice speaks robotically in her ear, the words pausing as the computer generates the sentence.

  “You have a collect call … from … Cat”—Cat’s voice here, and Geo’s heart leaps—“at … Hazelwood Correctional Institution. This call will cost you … one dollar and seventy-five cents … and will appear on your next billing statement. To accept, press one. To decline, please press two or hang up.”

  She presses one, and a moment later, Cat’s voice is in her ear.

  “Georgina? You there, hon?”

  “I’m here,” Geo says, and despite her grogginess, her eyes well up with tears. It’s only been a week, but it’s the longest she’s gone without hearing her friend’s voice since they met five years ago. “Goddammit, it’s so good to hear from you. Why haven’t you called sooner?”

  “I wanted to give you a chance to get settled. Last thing I figured you needed was to be reminded of this hellhole.”

  Geo can hear the low hum of Hazelwood through the phone. Voices bantering in different accents and cadences—Mexican, Polish, the melodic lilt of a woman who sounds a lot like Ella Frank, the bark of a CO telling someone to get back in line. She can picture Cat, dressed in shapeless prison sweats two sizes too large, standing at the bank of pay phones. There are exactly six, mounted to the wall, no dividers between them, no privacy. Not that privacy mattered, anyway. All calls are monitored in prison. The legal ones, anyway.

  “How are you?” Geo asks. “And don’t bullshit me.”

  “I’m shitty,” Cat says, and Geo stifles a sigh. But she wants to hear it, so she doesn’t say anything yet. “Oncologist said the cancer is spreading. I’ve got two new tumors in my femur—wait, is that the thigh bone or shin bone?”

  “Thigh bone.”

  “So yeah, femur. Doc still thinks another round of chemo is the way to go, but I gotta tell you, hon, I’m not sure I’m up for it. He wants to start next week. I already feel half-dead.”

  “That’s because I’m not there,” Geo says, feeling about as helpless as she’d ever felt. She picks at a loose stitch on her floral comforter, wishing in that moment she could be there to have this conversation in person. But ex-cons, especially ones who just got out of prison, don’t normally make it onto the approved-visitors list.

  “I do have good news, though. My parole was approved. I should be out Monday.”

  “No fucking way!” Geo sits straight up on the bed, feeling like she’s about to cry. “And you waited a whole minute to tell me that?”

  “I wanted to build the suspense.”

  Ella Frank’s brother, Samuel, had come through. And even quicker than Geo had hoped. She made a mental note to call him later and thank him again, both for the gun and for his help “convincing” someone on the parole board to vote for Cat’s release. It had cost Geo a lot, but it was worth every penny.

  “I have just enough time to get your room ready,” Geo said. “You’ll like it. It used to be my mother’s sewing room—”

  “Hon, about that.” Cat sounds hesitant. “I don’t know if you really want an old woman living with you. I haven’t even met your father. Usually this kind of imposition is reserved for family—”

  “You are family. And don’t insult me by insinuating you aren’t,” Geo says firmly. “I talked it over with my dad. We have the room, and I have the time. Besides, we won’t be here long, anyway. I’m working on getting a place of my own, and you’re coming with me when I do. Now, what time can I pick you up?”

  There’s a silence on the other end of the line. From her old friend, anyway; the background is still filled with the din of prison life.

  “Don’t pick me up,” Cat says, but Geo can hear the smile in her voice even from two hundred miles away. “I’m not going to make you drive back to this hellhole, and don’t bother arguing, because it’s not negotiable. I’ll take the bus, and maybe you can pick me up at the bus depot in Seattle.” Her voice chokes up. “Georgina, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.”

  They chat a few minutes more. Geo tells Cat a heavily edited version about how things have been at home so far, making no mention of the spray-painted messages on the garage doors, or her failed trip to the bank, or her conversation with Kaiser about the most recent dead bodies. Cat tells her one of the newbies just got her work assignment as the new hairstylist at the salon.

  “Apparently she went to beauty school for a year.” Cat sounds dubious. “But I don’t know, she has blue-and-green hair. I wouldn’t go to a hairdresser with blue-and-green hair.”

  “Of course you wouldn’t. You’re sixty-two.”

  They say their good-byes. Geo hangs up the phone, feeling much better than she has the past couple of days. Cat’s release is now something she can look forward to. There hasn’t been another woman in the house since …
well, since her mother died. Walt isn’t crazy about the idea of another ex-con in the house, especially one he’s never met before. But as an ER doctor, it’s not in his nature to not help someone if he has the ability. Geo doesn’t doubt they’ll get along famously.

  She showers and gets ready for the day, blow-drying her hair, putting on a little makeup, even though she has nowhere to be. She still feels discombobulated. In prison she had a routine, things that needed to get done every day. Here, there’s almost too much freedom, too much choice, and it’s overwhelming.

  She has too much time to think.

  The doorbell rings as she’s making breakfast, and she pads down the hallway to see who it is. She opens the door to find Kaiser standing in her driveway, snapping pictures of her Range Rover with his phone. He didn’t take the unmarked today; a silver Acura is parked at the curb. He’s wearing a hoodie over a T-shirt, jeans, and Nikes, and he looks nothing like the police detective he is.

  He looks goddamned adorable.

  “Why are you taking pictures of my car?” she calls out, and he turns and glances her way.

  “See for yourself,” he replies.

  She slips into a pair of flip-flops and steps out. She sees it as soon as she steps off the porch, and stops.

  “Fuck,” she says, deflating.

  Across the side of her white Range Rover, in the same angry red paint, is the word BITCH.

  “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” She throws her hands up, staring at her SUV in frustration. “It’s like they knew I was going to sell it. Fuck. Fuck.”

  Kaiser snaps another picture. “Let’s talk inside,” he says. He gives her the once-over. “Unless you have somewhere to be.”

  She shakes her head, and he follows her back into the house. She catches a whiff of his cologne as he stands beside her unzipping his hoodie, which she takes and hangs in the closet. He smells great, and she’s annoyed at herself for even noticing. It’s been a long time since she’s been around a man who isn’t her father, her lawyer, or a corrections officer. And the last man she had sex with—actual sex, with penetration—was Andrew.