Chapter Thirty-One
Braxton
“Braxton, you have to focus. If you let your concentration slip, he’ll destroy you easily.”
It was Wednesday afternoon. Nick and I had spent the last couple hours practicing, but toward the end, my mind had begun to wander. Jaimie had gone for her interview that morning, and I still hadn’t heard from her. And my thoughts kept drifting irresistibly back to our weekend trip.
“Are you even listening?” asked Nick, his face flustered. “Maybe we should just call it a day.”
“I lost my concentration about an hour ago, sorry.” I tore off my gloves. “It would probably help if I had eaten something before coming in. Right now, I could really go for a large burrito slathered in guacamole.”
“Lord, yes.” Nick patted his belly with a woeful expression. “Growing up, there were times when my dad couldn’t afford to feed us, and I promised myself that if I ever moved out on my own, I would never go hungry. But I keep skipping meals like someone who’s not used to eating.”
“Do you think it would help if we went grocery shopping?” I asked as we entered the locker room where a warm mist was seeping from the showers. “We spend so much money each week eating out. Maybe plunking down a few hundred dollars for pasta and rice would be a better investment.”
“I keep telling myself that, but at the end of the day I get lazy and figure it would be easier just to run by Carl’s Jr. Even though I know for a fact that eating out is more expensive and I would be saving hundreds of dollars a month by shopping at Aldi or wherever.”
“Is there an Aldi in Boulder?”
“No, that’s just my go-to example. Another problem I have is forgetting that lack of food can affect one’s concentration.” Removing a fleece towel from his locker, he ran it over his neck and back. “I didn’t grow up with food, so I’m a little ignorant of its benefits.”
“Well, here’s a clue,” I said. “If you haven’t eaten all day, it becomes really hard to focus on anything else. I have to remind Jaimie of that all the time.”
“Do you really?”
“I do. Sometimes I have to bring her lunch because she forgets to pack one for herself or gets so busy working that she can’t go out. Last week, we met up for drinks at happy hour, and I asked her when was the last time she had eaten. She couldn’t remember. She eventually realized she hadn’t eaten since the day before.”
Nick winced. “Why are we all so bad at taking care of ourselves?”
“I don’t know. I think it might be a generational thing. Nobody our age has a lot of money, so we end up skimping on groceries and other necessities. With housing prices being the way they are, there’s not a whole lot left over once we pay rent. If we even manage to pay that.”
“It’s a real problem.” Nick stepped into the shower with his shorts on and turned on the water full-blast, enveloping the room in steam. “I’ll gladly pledge my vote to the first politician who promises an increase in real wages or an end to the housing crisis. It’s getting to the point where only the very rich can even afford to buy apartments. Soon, we’ll all be living out on the streets, lighting fires in tall garbage cans to keep warm.”
“Yeah.” I was scrolling through my phone, only half paying attention. “Hey, did you get this email?”
Nick splashed foamy scented soap over his chest. “What email?”
“It’s from Coach. Looks like he wants us to submit to a drug test this afternoon ‘in advance of the rumble on Saturday.’ I guess it’s a good thing I never accepted Bruce’s offer.”
Nick’s eyes widened, and he became oddly quiet.
“Anyway,” I added, returning my phone to my pocket, “I’m impressed with how well you’ve been doing during training. A few weeks ago, you couldn’t have taken me on by yourself, but you put up a real fight during practice. You’re almost as good as me now.”
“I suppose I should accept that as the compliment it was apparently intended to be,” said Nick.
“Yeah, totally.” Coach was allowing him to compete in the match preceding mine on Saturday, and he had been practicing without interruption for most of the past week in order to get ready. “Jaimie just texted me and asked me to come over. Do you want me to pick you up anything on my way back?”
“No,” Nick said miserably. “I’ll just run by Carl’s Jr.”
I left him standing in the shower looking tense and fearful. Outside it was a breezy spring day, and the wind carried the whiff of freshly mowed grass. I bought burritos for me and Jaimie and took the expressway to her house, marveling all the while at the cloudless blue sky.
She opened the door before I even had the chance to knock.
“Hey, come in!” Her eyes widened as they fell on the bag in my hand. “Did you bring enough for us to share?”
“Nope, only for me.” I thrust the bag into her hands and set down my keys on the coffee table. “How did your interview go?”
“Could not have gone better!” she exclaimed, clapping between each word. “I think it was my jokes that won them over. They absolutely loved my nerdy math jokes.”
“That’ll do it. So did you get the job?”
“I did, actually. I don’t know why I was so surprised when they came in and told me they were giving me the position. I actually started crying.”
“In front of them?”
“Yes…” She grimaced with all her teeth. “But also, there’s some bad news. Please don’t hate me for what I’m about to tell you.”
“They’re mandating that you go out with your new boss and we have to break up?”
“No! It’s not that bad.” She led me into the kitchen and sat down at the island in the center of the room. “They want me to start Thursday, which means I won’t be accompanying Randy to the match this weekend. Again, I’m really sorry.”
I tried to keep a straight face but couldn’t hide my disappointment. “Shame. I was really hoping for a repeat of our last rendezvous.”
“I’ll be happy if I never have to relive that night again.” She laughed, but I could tell she was being completely serious.
“Will you at least be able to watch it?”
“I’m planning to. Ren and I are already talking about having a viewing party that night. Maybe cooking some fajitas and splitting a bottle of wine. It’s been a good couple of weeks for the two of us.”
“Yeah, I can tell.” She had called me drunk the night before and asked if I could drive the two of them home from Fish City Grill. “What does Randy think about your new job? Surely he can’t be happy that they want you to start in two days.”
Jaimie’s face fell, and she hugged her stomach miserably. “I, umm, still haven’t told him.”
“Jaimie, when are you planning on telling him?” I exclaimed, incredulous.
Jaimie slumped over face-first onto the countertop as though wishing she was asleep. “I’ll do it, I promise. I have to do it by tomorrow at the latest. Tomorrow is my last day, although he doesn’t know it yet.”
“Aren’t you legally required to give a two-week's notice?”
She sat up and shook her head. “That’s a professional courtesy, but it’s not mandated. I’m just not looking forward to breaking his sad heart.”
“You’ve become like a daughter to him over the past couple of years.”
“I know, and I’m afraid this is going to utterly crush him. But I can’t avoid it. I would be a fool to pass up this opportunity just because I don’t want to hurt his feelings. There’s a time when you have to do what’s best for yourself.”
“I hear that.” I unscrewed the lid on the guacamole container and slathered it all over my burrito. “But this isn’t the end of your friendship. You can still visit him. Make sure he knows that you’re not dying.”
“I’ll invite him out for lunch next week,” said Jaimie. “Maybe I’ll even introduce him to my new boss. She’s hilarious.”
“At least the hardest part of your week is almost over. You’ll have to text me tomorrow and let me know how he takes it.”
“Oh, I will—if I survive it.” She poked unhappily at her burrito with a fork. “Would you like to stay and hang out for a bit after lunch?”
“I can’t, sweetie.” Jaimie looked crestfallen. “Maybe some other week, but I have to be back in the gym for training. This is going to be the biggest match I’ve ever fought.”
I went on eating while Jaimie frowned at her plate. Although I would never have told her this, I had a feeling she wanted to do more than just “hang out,” and I couldn’t risk losing “the Warrior” right before a big match. It might be just a silly superstition, but I wasn’t going to chance it this close to the fight.
“Well, anyway,” I said, rolling up my trash and tossing it into the blue recycling bin, “I really need to get going. Sorry I couldn’t stay longer, but it was good eating with you.”
“Good eating with you, too,” said Jaimie, though she continued to look mournful as she walked me out the door to my car.