CHINA
Yep, it’s Groundhog Day. I’m Bill fucking Murray.
Walking into the kitchen, it’s the same scene as before. Even the girls are sitting on the same bar stools as yesterday. Cassidy has laid out a spread on the counter, and they’re each picking at various morsels as I walk in.
“Hey,” I say quietly.
“Lover!” Harlow chirps. Walking over, she pulls me into a massive bear hug, and I relish it completely. “Man, you had me so worried, Doll,” she says softly into my shoulder as I pull her even tighter. I need this. I need them, it, all of it. Their love and the undying devotion that we have for each other is what has gotten me through everything thus far.
Nothing compares.
Stepping back, she plops herself gracefully back onto the stool. Hiding her face in her coffee, Cathryne grins at me with her best matronly look. That’s not good.
“Sorry for yesterday,” I say, trying to prompt a conversation. “I don’t know what happened. All the stress was finally getting to me, ya know?”
Buttering a piece of fresh french loaf, Hallee chimes in, almost too quickly. “It’s cool, D. Don’t worry. It all worked out.”
“No, I mean it. Well, actually, I mean I’m sorry for the whole thing, all of it. Court was just another stage in my fucked-up fiasco of a life.” Selecting a slice of warm loaf off the plate, I drizzle honey across its soft center. My mouth almost waters with the anticipation of the warm, sticky mess. “Who has the biggest balls here today? Who’s going to tell me what happened after the bathroom tearfest? I don’t remember anything.”
Each take turns looking at one another, wide-eyed, eyebrows raised in you tell her non-verbal cues, then mocking each other with jokingly angry faces before their wordless banter is decided. Harlow drew the short straw.
Taking a bite of the soft bread, I mouth around it, “Harlot?”
“Fine, you bitches!” she yells to the other two hiding in their breakfast. Hallee giggles, while Cathryne ignores and continues to such back her coffee. Turning toward me, Harlow blows out a breath, making her lips flutter. “Well, you remember going into the bathroom, and I’m sure you remember yelling out that you’d had enough and all that blah blah blah.” I nod, yet I hate that I acted in such a manner.
Yeah, got that.” Taking a bite of my bread, I glower at her dramatic pause.
“Well, you collapsed again. Cathryne and I came rushing in while you bawled like a—”
“Harlow!” The other two shout in unison.
“What? Fine. Anyway, back to the task at hand. You were in hysterics. That’s when he picked you up, stripped off his shirt, covered you, showcased his lovely chest, and we went to the judge’s chambers. Now you have an ankle monitor, and you’re sequestered to this house, or wherever he deems necessary,” Har mumbles the last part, rhyming it off like she’s tearing off a band aid. Immersing herself in her tea on the counter, as if it’s the most interesting thing in the whole fucking world, I leave her alone. At least Harlow had the guts to tell me.
“Okay. So, who is this he that picked me up? And why was he without a shirt?” Reaching to the center of the table, I grab up a mugful of coffee. “Don’t think I won’t get to that ‘wherever he deems necessary’ too, Harlot.” For some reason, I’m at the mercy of some man I don’t know, only because he was there at the right time.
“Okay, so don’t get mad,” Hallette pleads. Like I’m not already. “You were supposed to be in the courtroom in, like, ten minutes, and we didn’t know what else to do. To be honest, he helped out. He made things better. If you’d gone in that courtroom with everyone around, dealing with the paparazzi and weird shit, we’d have to have you committed.”
“What the hell are you all talking about?” I shake my head. I’m in total disbelief.
“You’re going to need this.” Coming around the counter, Cathryne pulls out a chair, handing me a freshly drizzled piece of bread. Sure, butter me up with my favorite comfort food.
“Sit and just listen as we explain it.” Taking the seat, pulling up a coffee and dressing it, I await the final installment of yesterday’s events. Her melancholic expression brokers no room for argument, so I do as I’m told.
Cassidy is doing her best to ignore our interaction, which honestly scares me a whole bunch. Cassidy always has a comment, a quip, or a facial expression that needs to be added to any of our conversations, so her quiet is actually quite daunting.
“D, Harlow gave you the Coles Notes version.” She calmly runs down the whole fiasco from start to finish, including the shirt wielding hot guy, and the judge’s final verdict, all while I sit patiently, listening. Even though I want to scream to the high heavens about the unfairness of this whole ordeal, I listen. When she’s done, I calmly stand and walk to the cupboard where I know the stash of alcohol is stored. I pull down a bottle of Kahlua. Refilling my coffee, I add the liquid fire instead of cream, filling it straight to the brim.
Taking a swig off the bottle directly, I blow out a heated breath and close my eyes, loving the alcohol’s irksome fire. It feels good, actually. It’s calming.
“So, I had all the charges dropped? I won’t lose my race standings? I can still hop on a bike, drive a car, and move around town, but I have to do it all with a chaperone? Is that correct?”
“Yep,” Harlow pipes up. “That’s about the gist of it, CD.”
“And where is said jailor?” Puckering my lips, pursing them until they’re pushed against my teeth, I bite down to confirm that once again, this is not a dream, or another mental holiday.
“He needed things from his place for his stay. He’s packing up before coming back. The judge gave him a day’s notice before the proximity alarm would activate.”
So not only am I in jail, he is too? Fair? Not so much.
“He seems nice enough to be stuck with, Doll. It shouldn’t be too bad.”
Quietly processing it all, I rise off the chair with my tainted coffee in tow. “Thanks guys, for everything. I think I’m just gonna go out to the track for a bit. I’ll see you later, yeah?” Each of them look at one another, then turn with weak smiles.
“Sure thing, CD,” Cathryne says as she turns, giving me a head nod before starting off down the hall. She knows when to push and when I need space.
“Yeah. Well, call me later,” Hallette mumbles, wiping her hands on a napkin before following behind Catty.
That leaves only Harlow. She’s the emotional barometer, normally. I know when I’ve pushed and hurt her feelings. “You...you’ll see it’ll be okay, CD. I promise. He’s a good guy, and I doubt the judge would give him such a job if he thought that there was a chance of you being turned into a skin suit.” Hugging me, then giving me a soft peck on the cheek, she turns to leave, but not before leaving a final quip. “He’s got his own issues, D. I could see it. Be careful with him.” Then she too is gone.
Thankfully, Cassidy doesn’t say a thing, though I know she’s itching to do so. Letting me saunter out the back, away from the awkward silence now resting in this big house, I make my way out of the kitchen. Walking toward the bank of windows that separate my greatest joy and my worst nemesis right now, I pass through to the heat of day. It feels great. Really, it’s lovely. It’s sweltering, but fantastic. The air is scorching hot, which is normal for the Malibu Hills in June. You can taste the salt of the sea air melding with acrid dry ground. Like a balm to my soul, I breathe it in. Taking the final bites of my breakfast, I sit down on the grand steps that lead out to the track. There’s no sound. Nothing.
I think the quiet is what’s killing me slowly. We’ve always had screeching, revving beasts stretching their horsepower across the surface. With it being so quiet, I feel like a trapped soul.