Part Two

I watched Johnny for a good minute, trying to compute what was happening on my kitchen floor. Images and thoughts were running through my head at light speed. There was me, paying for his court fees, me, moving in with him from Nebraska, me, supporting him when he lost his job, me naked in bed after sex, me at the coffee shop at eight at night, me, walking in on him shooting up,  me, watching him jiggle Barbie on the floor.

It was all happening in real-time, but it felt like slow motion. I slammed the door, which made Johnny fall over and Barbie girl shout, then I walked back to the bedroom and calmly started packing my stuff up.

My mind registered Johnny screaming at me and trying to stop me from packing, but I felt like I was floating.

This was it. I was going to be on my own. Oh, good God, I was going to be alone. I threw my photos into the suitcase and laughed.

Barbie was screaming at me now, too. She was hysterical and asking Johnny who I was. Obviously, he hadn't told her he was taken. He really hadn't done anything for me recently, either. Johnny tried to grab me, but I just kept on walking.

Dream-me levitated to the front door, threw my key behind my back, and kept on going. In fact, I kept on going all through Boston. I had my entire life on my back, but barely felt it. My feet weren't stopping until I got to wherever I was going. And after almost falling a couple times, I realized I had nowhere to go.

Intuition and muscle memory had brought me to Joe's coffee shop, but it had been closed for an hour or so. Joe was long gone, and the night was starting to set in. It was going to be long and cold if I wasn't careful, more than likely I would freeze.

That must have started it. The reality of what all had happened came crashing down on my head and burned little holes in my brain. Johnny was gone, I was cold, and I had nowhere to go. I sniffled and rolled myself into a tight ball, then started sobbing. Tears soaked the knees of my jeans and snot bubbled at my nose, but I didn't have the energy to wipe it away.

The sobbing just kept coming, I couldn't control it. Everything was coming out as I cried, my frustration, anger, hurt, fear. The move to Boston a couple years ago had cost me everything, my savings, my college education, my future. Now look at me, on the cold ground while my life was crumbling before my eyes.

"Hattie?" my name sounded distant, foreign. It shocked me into silence. My eyes were still swimming, but I looked up at the source. It was Joe.

"Hey, Hattie, what's going on? You look..." he paused, shrugging, "... more than a little lost."

I wiped my face off. "More than a little." parroted words didn't really convey my feelings.

"Come on, my apartment's right above the shop. Let's go talk this out." Joe held out his arm, and I gratefully took it. My bags went over his shoulders and he grabbed his key out of his pocket. Our footsteps rang up the metal stairs on the side of Joe's, like a tone-deaf bell.

When Joe opened the door to his apartment, a blast of warm air greeted us. A violent shiver ran down my spine, and Joe pushed me in. He took his shoes off at the door, and motioned for me to stay at the entrance. Joe took my bags and walked into a back room. My eyes were still watering, so I pulled the sleeves on my sweater down and brushed them away. Joe had taken in a sad, scared little girl, not the smart, sassy woman who worked for him.

"Hattie, let me get you some Irish coffee," Joe said, striding into the kitchen and pulling out a bottle of whiskey. "You look like you could use a drink. A stiff drink."

My eyes stayed glued to the floor, but I nodded and scooted over to the counter. The brewer spluttered and then began to drip, and I could sense Joe looking at me.

"So what happened?" It wasn't a question, it was more of a demand. Joe was staring at me intently, waiting for the story to come out.

I dropped my head. "I don't want to talk about it, Joe." But I really did, I wanted to talk. But Joe was my boss, and this was already inappropriate enough.

"In that case, Miss Hattie, I believe that a bit of a movie in in order. Any requests? I've got Die Hard, the Grudge, Boondock Saints..."

He continued on for a good minute, just listing off names of classic movies. Drawers and cabinets were opening and closing, movies were being pulled out of the couch and recliner and what have you, but there was nothing for me. He was white noise, and I wasn't listening.

"... and Third Star." Apparently the movie list had run out. The coffee was done, Joe was looking up at me for approval, Johnny had cheated, and I was homeless.

Wave two of crying broke out like a wave against the white cliffs of Dover. It was piteous, to be honest. Growing up, my family was a lot of people who preferred to act like statues. There was no emotion, no sad, no happy, no angry. Existence was just a blank stare and some spoken words.

Johnny had changed all that. He was like a lightbulb in a thick fog. He had laughed and cried and sang, and taught me to do the same. So when he told me that he was leaving for Boston, I had to follow. He was my light. And now he was Barbie girl's.

Joe stood awkwardly behind the counter looking at me. He probably had never dealt with anything like this in his life. His relationships had all probably been lovely and ended amicably, with noone cheating and noone losing. My luck was not so good.

My sobbing subsided on it's own after a couple minutes. I wasn't used to expressing so much in such a small amount of time. As I was calming down, Joe seemed to relax. He mixed our coffees with a bit of whiskey, very heavyhandedly, I might add. He decided on a movie I had never heard of and plopped down on the couch, throwing his arm over the back.

I took the coffee and sat on the other side of the couch. The movie was rolling and Joe was talking and I was sipping and for the first time in a long time I felt  okay.

Joe and I stayed up way past bedtime, eventually just taking pulls on the bottle of whiskey and watching the movies in quick succession. We wound up playing the finger game and falling asleep on whatever surface we could.

I didn't think about Johnny and Barbie for the rest of the night.