Just Joe ~ Jen Luerssen Page 11

  “You didn’t have college friends?”

  “A few, but the majority went to grad school or moved back home. None of them were that close that I kept in touch for very long.” She shrugs. “Don’t feel sorry for me, I’m a loner and it’s okay. One day, I was walking in the mission and I saw a flier on a church bulletin board looking for volunteers. A lot about church left a sour taste in my mouth, except for the ministry. I loved offering my time, skills and enthusiasm to others for no return.”

  “So, you started volunteering for the shelter?” I ask, wanting to know more.

  “Yes, and it changed my life. I realized my own childhood wasn’t normal and that my parents, my dad especially, abused me physically and emotionally. It was like someone dropped a bucket of ice water on me. I woke up. Shortly after I started there, I met Jeannette. She was a volunteer counselor. She did pro-bono therapy for the women and the children. Her other practice was in Pacific Heights until she retired a few years ago.” She takes a breath, leaning her elbows on her knees. “She and I had an easy friendship. We talked about our love of the city, burlesque dancing, and food. I opened up to her about my family and childhood and didn’t realize until years later that she was subtly counseling me along the way. She helped me get to a place where I could forgive my dad and my mom. I trust her with my life.”

  “She’s pretty rad, plus she likes me, so she’s obviously brilliant,” I try to lighten the mood a little. “I’m glad you have her. Is she your only friend?”

  “Until you and Jack busted your way into my life. I don’t trust easily. I have some surface friends at work and the theater, but no one really close.” She picks at some imaginary thread on her pants.

  “I’m so happy you’ve finally seen the light that you and I were meant to be besties,” I say and nudge her hip with my foot. She really is a fantastic friend. I wish she believed it. I wish she believed we could be more than friends.

  We sit quietly, listening to Frank’s pathetic snoring for a while. Finally, I get up and hold out my hand to her. She takes it and I walk her to her room, stopping at her door. I place my hands gently on her shoulders and pull her in a little.

  “Don’t think I forgot about that poop story, Joe,” she says squinting at me.

  “Nah, but Jack really does tell it better, I’ll get him to lay it on you tomorrow.” I play with a lock of her lilac hair. “Thanks for sharing with me. I can’t wait to hear more,” I say and brush a soft kiss on her cheek.

  I’m rewarded with a smile as I pull back. “There’s not much more really, but if you want to hear all my thrilling tales of playing Dungeons & Dragons solo in my parents’ basement or how I’ve never had a roommate, I’ll share.”

  “It’s all fascinating to me, you are fascinating to me,” I say, give her shoulders a squeeze, and turn to walk to my room.

  “Joe,” she says softly. “You are, you know.”

  “What?” I ask over my shoulder.

  “My best friend.”

  Just the Plague

  MONDAY MORNING, I AM UP early and leave before anyone else is conscious. Jack went to bed early but he still won’t get up before 11 if he doesn’t have to. I left Frank sawing wood on my couch and I’m sure Betsy is still passed out. She must be drained after our argument and talk.

  I think about everything on my drive to work and I feel hopeful. Friendship is the very least of what I want from Betsy and I’m not sure how to convince her to give me a chance but I’m going to try. She’s attracted to me, and that’s not just my usual general thought about everyone thinking I’m hot. Which, I am. Betsy is attracted to more than just my looks, I know that. She knows me as a man and thinks I’m awesome. I may not be at the top of her list now but my hope is that she’ll come around eventually. I just have to convince her I’m worth it.

  I stay late working on the flooring in the back room and don’t get home until about eight. When I walk in the door of the house, I smell something cooking and yet something seems off. I walk into the kitchen and find Betsy tending to a pot of something.

  “Hey, Bets, what’s cookin’, good lookin’?” I ask with a wink.

  “I’m making some soup for Jack. He’s not feeling very well,” she says and I tense up.

  “Not feeling well? Like hungover or really sick?”

  She gives me a worrying look. “He’s really sick, Joe. When I got home, he was in bed and I don’t think he’s left it all day except to piss.”

  “Shit,” I say and go directly up to Jack’s room. It smells like him, like Canoe cologne. My dad wore it religiously and even though it’s kinda gross and I don’t even think they make it anymore, Jack wears it. I can’t give him a hard time for wanting to have some connection to our dad. It also smells like teenage boy who’s been in his bed sick all day. He’s asleep so I don’t wake him as I sit on the edge of his bed and put my hand on his forehead. He’s burning up.

  “You left before I finished,” Betsy whispers behind me. “I woke him and took his temperature, he has a fever. He took some ibuprofen and drank some water. Then he passed out again.”

  I nod. “Thanks, B, I appreciate it.” She puts her hand on my shoulder and gives it a squeeze.

  “I’m hoping when he wakes up, I can force feed him some soup. I’ll be downstairs if you need me for anything.” She heads out and I hear her banging around in the kitchen a few minutes later.

  Jack didn’t get sick often but he was one of those kids who got the fucking plague when he did get sick. I’ll admit when he was sick, I was a mess. The first time he had a fever for a few days and there was nothing else wrong. Then came the rash and I freaked out. By the time he had a weird bacterial infection when he was 11, I was at least an expert at hiding my ineptness. I still have flashbacks about the norovirus of 2011, I had that one too, and let’s just say it was responsible for one of my pants shitting episodes.

  To see him like this now is scary. He’s a grown-up, and not supposed to get sick anymore. I realize that makes no sense, but you know what I mean. I stroke his hair and he shivers a little. I pull up his covers and head down to the kitchen.

  “I’m going to call our doctor,” I tell Betsy and step out onto the deck. The doctor seems to think it may be the flu but wants me to bring him in tomorrow in the morning so she can rule out strep or any other infection.

  When I’m back in the kitchen, Betsy is putting a ladle of soup into a bowl and onto a tray. She found our “sick tray,” we’ve had since I was a kid. There’s a small glass of juice, another bottle of water and some toast. I feel so much gratitude I’m overwhelmed and all I can do is hug her from behind and lean my head on her shoulder. Her hands cover mine and she leans her head to mine. “He’ll be okay, Joe, it’s just the flu.”

  “I know, I guess I’m just still stuck in the mindset that he’s my baby brother and I get panicky when he’s sick.” I don’t move and she pulls my arms tighter around her. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  She lets out a long breath and releases my hands. I step back and she grabs the tray and takes it up to my brother. I use this moment to get my shit together. I’m not sure why the sight of her taking care of Jack and helping me in a way I’ve never been helped has struck me, but it has. Sure, Sebastian’s and Frank’s moms helped me out a lot in the beginning but I probably didn’t lean on them as much as I should have because I wanted to show I could handle it.

  When Jack was eight, he fell off the play structure in our backyard and fractured his arm. The first person I called was Theresa, Frank’s mom. She didn’t answer so I had to figure it out on my own. After taking about five minutes to lose my shit, I called 911 and my brother was whisked to the hospital along with me in the back of an ambulance. Fortunately, I thought to grab our insurance info and Jack’s records before the ambulance came. His arm was set and cast and we were released all within a few hours. By the time we were out of the cab and into our house, Theresa was calling me back, apologetic for missing my call. She was at the movies. The wh
ole incident was good for me because it made me realize that I could handle it. It was my first real test as a parent. Later came the running away and even though it was a low time and a challenge, I felt prepared to deal with it.

  So, even though I know he’s bound to be fine, I still worry like a parent would worry. I follow Betsy up after a few minutes and when I get to his room, Jack is sitting up and forcing soup down his throat. He looks horrible and is barely awake.

  “You need food and fluids to keep your strength up, and to help absorb the meds,” I hear Betsy say as I walk in and sit on the bean bag chair next to the bed.

  He nods weakly and takes the spoon from Betsy. He looks to me and I can see now he is very pale and his eyes are bloodshot red. “You look like death warmed over, bro. Can you survive ’till morning when I can take you to see Dr. Mononoke?” He nods and then sinks into his bed, pulling the covers up to his chin.

  His eyes close and I collect the tray, leaving the water bottle and head downstairs. When we get to the kitchen, Betsy starts putting things away and tidying up. “Thanks, B, you can’t know how much it means to have someone else here to help.”

  “Almost like a normal family, I’d imagine,” she says and I can tell she regrets it instantly. “Ugh, I’m sorry. You are normal, I’m a douche nozzle.”

  I smile. “You most certainly are not a douche nozzle, and I knew what you meant. You’re right. You don’t realize how hard it is to be a single parent until you have help. It’s such a fucking relief you can barely restart breathing. When Jack was little, Theresa, Frank’s mom, or Sabine, Sebastian’s mom, would come help me now and then. I would be calm, and Jack would be agreeable and life felt manageable. It was rare, so we had to fend for ourselves most of the time, but man, when they swooped in, it felt like they took the weight of the world off of me.”

  “Joe, I know I’ve said it a bunch of times, and I hope you believe me when I say it again. You are a great parent. Jack is a brilliant young man and you are a huge reason he’s as awesome as he is. I’m glad you had help, but I can recognize that you did the bulk of the parenting on your own. If I can help by making soup, giving hugs, or administering ibuprofen, then I’m here.” She rubs my upper arm and I lean into it. “Also, can we talk about the fact that your doctor is named after a Japanese anime princess?”

  “Well, she is actually Dr. Miyazaki but she looks like a princess so Jack would call her Dr. Mononoke. When he was he was little he was obsessed with anime so it stuck. She thinks it’s adorable since we are her favorite patients.” Suddenly I’m bone weary and want to go to bed myself. “I’ll get my sleeping bag and camp out on his floor in case his fever spikes.”

  She shakes her head. “No way, you worked a long physical day, and I merely sat at a computer. You go lay down and I’ll get some work done in his room, I’m not tired.”

  “Bets, you sure?” I can barely argue at this point.

  “Yes, I’ll wake you if there’s a change. I already told my job I’ll be working from home tomorrow so I can stay with him after the doctor, or go with if you need me to.”

  I step into her warmth and hold her close to me. She transfers a tiny bit of energy to me so I can make the walk to my room without passing out on the floor. When I turn back to her, she blows me a kiss. I make a lazy movement to catch it and she laughs. It takes every molecule of my body to turn and throw myself into bed, instead of the alternative. Running to her in the hallway and taking a real kiss.

  Just Delirious

  IT’S OFFICIAL, JACK HAS THE flu. He wasn’t much better two days ago when we took him to the doctor. She did a few tests but her conclusion today is the flu. Betsy kept her promise and stayed home with him while she worked. I spent a few hours with Don and Denver at her house working on the floors but cut out early. I was so tired. When I got home, Betsy had made a big pot of beef barley soup and I had a bowl with Jack in his room, took a shower and fell asleep before nine.

  My alarm is going off and it feels like it’s spiking directly into my head. I turn it off and sit up on the side of my bed. Ugh, I don’t feel like I got any sleep even though I had almost ten hours. My head feels heavy and my head is throbbing. I pull on my clothes, brush my teeth and walk to Jack’s room. He is still asleep so I head down to make some coffee but Betsy has beaten me to it. She is dressed for work and just pushing the coffee maker’s brew button.

  “Hey, Bets, you going in today?” I ask as I pour myself a bowl of cereal. I’m not the least bit hungry but I choke some spoonfuls down knowing if I don’t, I’ll regret it.

  She nods. “Yeah, but I’ll be home by four.” She peers at me. “Are you going in today?”

  “Yep, I’ll come home for lunch and check on him though, so he should be fine. Theresa offered to have him stay with her since her apartment is directly above the store she owns. He wants to go, but I won’t let him until he’s not contagious which should be tomorrow.”

  “Theresa sounds awesome,” she says and I nod in agreement because she is. “It’s not an inconvenience for me to take a few half days or work from home, though. It’s the least I can do for you guys.”

  “You don’t owe us anything. You being here has been more of a benefit for us than you I’m sure. Jack wants to go to Theresa’s, he says he needs a mom figure to dote on him.”

  She rolls her eyes. “You two, you guys need so much babying.”

  I smile because she’s mostly right. “You only want what you can’t have.”

  Her eyelids drop and then her face follows into her hands. “I’m an asshole.”

  “You aren’t,” I say and rub her back. “I’m going to head out, I’ll see you at four, okay?”

  She nods and I grab my to go coffee mug that says “I’m a fucking unicorn, bitch,” on it.

  * * *

  I spend a few miserable hours trying to work on the floor until Don kicks me out. “Joe, go home, you are useless.”

  “Gee thanks, Don. I’m so glad I pay you to prop me up.” I do feel like shit and he does look a bit concerned.

  “You definitely do not pay for that, jack hole. It’s just I got a flu shot, but I’m old as fuck and I don’t want to catch a strain I’m not covered for.” He points to the face mask he’s been wearing. “I’m not wearing this for fumes, it’s because I don’t want your fucked-up germs.”

  I hold up my hands and then stand up from my kneeling position and almost pass out. As I stumble, Denver rushes to keep me upright. “Thanks, Den,” I say as I lean over, resting my hands on my thighs. “I’m only going to say this once in your life, Don, so listen up. You are right.” His eyes light up and he takes his phone from the holster on his belt.

  “Can you repeat that, I need a recording,” he says holding his phone to my face.

  I bat his hand away. “I told you, just the once.” He fake pouts and puts the phone away. “You guys can handle the floors, it’s just going to take a little longer. I’ll see if I can pull Luz from the Sunset project to help. She’s better at this than you two anyway.”

  “Cold, bro,” Don says. “Also, true so I won’t take offense. Go home and go to bed.”

  * * *

  The house is quiet when I get home, and when I get to Jack’s room he’s gone. I text him a quick message as I walk to my room.

  Me: Where’d you go Jackie-boy? Gone to live in the forest?

  This is my standard way of asking him where he is at any time. He loves it. While I’m waiting for a response, I take my pants and shirt off and get into bed. I’m just drifting off to sleep when my phone dings.

  Jack: My forest days are long gone, bro. I’m at Theresa’s.

  Me: I thought you were going tomorrow?

  Jack: I needed her smoothies and her kick-ass record collection.

  Me: I wasn’t aware this was the new flu curing protocol.

  Jack: You need to read more.

  Me: It’s probs for the best, I think I caught your plague and don’t want to relapse you.

  Jack: Oh no, dud
e, sorry.

  Me: It’s cool, I was the one who taught you how to share.

  Jack: Ha, true. Let B take care of you.

  Me: I’ll try. Love you.

  Jack: Love you too.

  I send a quick text to Betsy so she won’t rush home.

  Me: Hey Bestie. No need to rush home, Jack already flew the coop.

  Bestie: Aw, the little chicken is feeling better?

  Me: That or the grass is greener over at Theresa’s.

  Bestie: Ouch.

  Me: Can’t compete with pb banana smoothies and 70s freedom rock vinyl.

  Bestie: Who could?

  Me: Not us, unfortunately. See you later.

  Bestie: Cool, you coming to my show tonight?

  Me: I wouldn’t miss it.

  Bestie: Okay, I’ll see you there. I could use some extra hours to catch up here, then I’ll just head straight to LM.

  Me: Okay, get to work!

  I definitely do not make her show. I do wake up around four in the afternoon with a fever and a searing headache. I drag myself to the kitchen and force down some ibuprofen and water. The thought of walking back up the stairs makes me want to weep so instead I slump over to the couch and snuggle up under my mom’s blanket and pass out.

  The slam of a door drags me into consciousness but only because it makes my headache worse and I probably need more meds.

  “Hey, asshole!” I hear Betsy shout at me.

  When I crack an eyelid open, I see her stomp over to me in one of her sexy ass wrap dresses still in full hair and make-up. Her face is twisted in anger and I finally realize I told her I’d go to her show. That was not the right thing to do.

  “Sorry,” my voice is barely audible.

  She finally gets a full look at me and my now shivering form and kneels next to me. It’s freezing in here. “Oh my god, Joe, you look awful.” She places her warm hand on my forehead and it feels nice. “You have a fever.”

  I nod and snuggle into the couch again, still shivering. She stands and I feel the weight of another blanket on me. My shivers calm a little. I’m not sure how long she’s gone but she’s back kneeling next to me and saying something.