Lennon's Jinx (22 page)

Lennon
nods. “Anything for the bride.”

“Really?”
she asks.

Lennon
takes a step back from her. I guess he has some standards.

“She’s
too much,” I say to Danny.

As
Clive straightens his tie, Katie takes Joel by the hand and leads him out of
the bride’s chamber, her head held high. I got to hand it to her. She may be
nominated for a Tony with that act.

Winthrop
pulls Lennon aside. “You saved us both. My wife would have a fit if this got
into the papers.” He stuffs a bill into Lennon’s breast-coat pocket. “You
earned that.”

Lennon
wraps his arms around Danny’s and my waists. It doesn’t creep me out as usual.
I think I actually trust him more than I would’ve ever thought possible.

“Welcome
to the band,” Lennon says. “You guys just earned yourselves another ‘G’.”

Danny
fists bumps me. Another grand. Wow, I’d have to work weeks to make that much.

Lennon
takes a seat at the piano and nods at Winthrop who takes his daughter’s hand
for their dance. Lennon sings a powerful Italian song that the couple waltzes
to. By the end of his solo performance, tears prick my eyes. It reminds me of
the time my dad took me to see
La Boheme
. Lennon’s voice is that
beautiful.

The
crowd erupts with cheers and a standing ovation. Even Heather stands, her eyes
filled moisture, and her face beams with pride.

Lennon
bows and Clive starts in with an upbeat song while I’m left coughing on the
dust of their whirlwind.

It’s been a hard week for Currie.
Several times, she has cried herself to sleep. The chemo isn’t going well for
Zoe, not that it ever has. She’s sick, her hair fell out, and she just wants to
go home and have her life return to normal.

And
for some stupid reason, the Humane Society keeps leaving me messages. I’ve
deleted them all. We don’t have time to volunteer this month, not with hospital
visits to Zoe and teaching Jinx to read music, which is the only highlight of
my day as of late.

Zoe
has a reprieve today from treatment. She goes in for the heavy-duty chemo in a
couple days. I’m running the girls by the warehouse for practice first, then we’ll
order out from their favorite restaurant in Naperville, some noodle company. She
and Currie sit in the backseat next to each other. Currie stares outside. It pains
me to see them both suffering.

Zoe
fidgets with the scarf I bought her that hides her bald head. “Are you sure I
look okay?” she asks.

Currie
wears hers as a sign of solidarity. She reaches for Zoe’s hand and feigns a
smile that’s hard for her to keep. “You look great.”

Zoe’s
eyes are sunken from loss of weight, and gray crescent moons shadow her
normally bright green eyes.

“I
especially like the scarf I bought for my Aphrodite,” I say.

“Do
you think Clive will notice I look like a hairless Chihuahua?” Zoe’s voice is
so timid it stabs my chest.

I
glance back in the rearview mirror. “Clive loves you, not just for your outer
beauty but for who you are.” It’s a lame statement, but it’s true. Clive misses
his sister who died in a freak accident.

Zoe
leans her head against the car window. The snow is a puddled mess in the
streets, turning many yards into lakes. “Thanks. You’re still my second fave.”

I
wink at Zoe. “Always the best man and never the groom.”

“How
can you even be interested in someone so old?” Currie wrinkles her nose. “They’re
a step away from tennis-ball-shoed walkers.”

Zoe
folds her arms across her chest. “A girl’s supposed to marry someone older
because boys take so long to grow up.”

“That’s
very true,” I say, watching them a moment longer as I pull into the warehouse.
It’s hard to think about a child dying. My world revolves around Currie, so I can’t
imagine losing her and being in Mrs. Nowak’s shoes.

I
bundle Zoe up in a blanket and carry her inside. She wraps her arms around my
neck. “Thanks for doing all this. You’re still a hunky monkey. Clive’s just got
that whole British thing going for him.”

If
I didn’t know him so well, I’d think his accent makes him sound gay. “Blimey, I
thought it was you and me, bird,” I say in my best British voice.

“Not
bad. Keep working on it. I can be swayed…for Skittles.”

Currie
grabs my arm. Sometimes she gets jealous of me sharing my attention with
others, especially girls. That’s one of the many reasons I don’t have a
girlfriend, though I hate admitting that even to myself. Someday, Currie will
grow up and leave me, then where will I be?

Maybe
I should let Jinx get under my skin.

Currie
gets the door for us. She’s thoughtful that way, and at her age, that’s a bonus.

“Thanks,
squirt,” I say.

I
set Zoe in a director’s chair and go turn up the heat. It’s usually cool in
here for practice.

Clive
sits at the piano with Jinx because it’s his turn to teach. “Hello, sweets,” he
calls to Zoe. “Be with you in a minute.”

Once
again, Jinx sits on the edge of the bench while Clive is right up against her. We
have similar moves. His arm crosses in front of her chest to touch her shoulder
and hands, close enough to her breasts to make her squirm. His attitude toward
Jinx has changed after she started hitting the notes and blending in with us.
She still needs work, but it’s a far cry from her first night.

Clive
touches her again, and she doesn’t protest, which bugs me. Why do I even care?
It’s not like she’s the least bit interested in me or the type of relationship
I have to offer, which is really none at all.

She’s
wearing those over the knee boots with a very short, ass-hugging skirt, and a
frilly top. All that hair hangs loose over her shoulders. Interesting that a
girl dressing that hot is an iceberg.

Clive
finishes his lesson. He helps Jinx up, which she meets with a half frown. She’s
not happy, and that pleases me. Clive walks over to Zoe. He lifts her up and
swings her around.

“Don’t,”
I say, but it’s too late.

Zoe
throws up all over him, a sticky green goo. Her face goes paler than it already
is. “I’m sorry.” Her head swivels toward me with a ‘rescue me’ expression
before it turns to horrified.

I
want to die for her.

Currie
scoots from her chair and rushes to Zoe. Jinx watches me, making me a bit
uncomfortable as I scoop Zoe up.

Clive
is speechless, frozen with green bean mush dripping from his chin. “Zoe…”

It’s
too late. She buries her face in my shoulder. “I’m so embarrassed. I’m getting
your shirt all yucky.”

“It’s
no problem.” She doesn’t remember the times I burped her and Currie on my
shoulder, and they spit up on me. I got over that a long time ago.

I
rush Zoe to the bathroom. Her tears dampen my button-down shirt. “Don’t worry
about it. I’ll beat up Clive for making you sick later.”

“Do
you think he hates me now?”

“No.
He looks good in green.”

Zoe
gives a slight laugh, mixed with tears. She clutches onto my shoulders. Her
shirt and scarf are damp with vomit, so that she’s shivering. “My scarf is
ruined.”

“I’ll
wash it out. It’ll be fine.”

“What’ll
I wear now?”

Currie
takes off her hoodie and her scarf. “You can wear these.”

“Thanks,
Currie,” I say. She gives me a weak smile. Pain spreads across her face. This
is hard on her, too. She doesn’t want to watch her best friend suffer, but she
doesn’t have much choice and neither do I.

I
wipe Zoe’s mouth with a washcloth. She takes off her scarf. Her head is as bald
as when she was a newborn.

Tears
sprinkle her cheeks. “I’m ugly, aren’t I? This is so unfair.”

Currie
comes over and slings her arm around Zoe.

I
squat down to face her. “Zoe, you are beautiful.”

“I
don’t want to be ugly anymore. I’m tired of feeling sick. My bones hurt.” Her
little fists pound my stomach.

“It’s
okay. In another week, it’s over with and you can go back to being you.”

Zoe
clings to me like Currie used to when she was scared. “Until the next time I
have to go in.”

Currie
catches my gaze. She understands Zoe’s words all too well.

After
Currie and I calm Zoe and clean her up, I send her to the stall to change.

When
she comes back out with her head hanging down, she says, “My mouth tastes like something
died in it.”

I
clean my toothbrush with soap. Never know when I’ll get lucky, so I keep one
here. “Will this work?” I hand it to her.

“Are
you sure?” Zoe asks, taking it.

“No
problem for one of my girls.” I cringe, realizing how bad that sounds. Zoe and
Currie don’t notice. In most ways, they’re innocent. I wish I had an ounce of
that in my blood.

While
Zoe scrubs her teeth, a light knock comes at the door. Clive opens it. “Can I
join?”

Jinx
stands in the doorway. “Is Zoe okay?”

I
nod. Zoe rinses out her mouth. Her cheeks blush, lighting up her ashen face. Her
arms wrap around my hips, and her nose squishes against my shirttail.

Clive
brushes Zoe’s hair back. “Were you drinking again, party girl?”

Zoe
glues herself to me. It’s as if she’s trying to hide from him.

“I
didn’t mean to,” she says in between sniffles.

Clive
bends down. “No. It’s me who’s sorry.”

“You’ll
never want to marry me now.”

“That’s
not true. I’ve had much worse things happen to me.”

Zoe
turns her head halfway, so that her cheek lies flat against my stomach. She
holds onto me like a security blanket. “Like what?”

“This
girl was really drunk and we were kissing, and she puked into my mouth.”

Currie
puckers her face in disgust. “TMI.”

Zoe
lets go of me. “Ew. So what happened? Did you dump her?”

“I
still went out with her after she sobered up. I’ll wait for you to get clean,
too.”

Zoe
screws up her lips. “You know I don’t drink.”

Clive
puts out his curled fist. “I know. Still my best girl?”

She
bumps his knuckles and nods.

“Let’s
go play then.” Clive takes her hand and deposits her in a director’s chair. He
wraps her in the blanket. “Still my snuggle bunny.”

Zoe
nods. Clive hugs her not so tight this time.

Currie
tags along after them. She scoots her chair really close to Zoe’s.

Jinx
waits for me to pass her. “You’re good with them. You’re this really crude guy who
sometimes surprises me.”

“You
like surprises?” I give the grin that most girls go for.

“Not
really.” Jinx walks away from me and goes to her keyboard.

That
hurt.

We
play for an hour. Before we leave, I wait for Jinx to get her car started. The
past couple of weeks, it’s progressively taken more tries to turn the engine
over. I don’t know much about cars because I’ve always had a new one.

When
it doesn’t start, I get out. “Want a jump?” I only have cables to help stranded
damsels. It’s a great come on.

“Sure.”
Jinx kicks her car. “Piece of junk. I need a new alternator.”

“I’ve
been paying you well.”

“Yeah.
I haven’t had the time, and I really want a better keyboard. If you’d quit
paying me half, I’d have it by now.”

“We
treat all newbies this way. Gives them incentive to learn the music.”

Jinx
leans against her car. Her face sags. “I’m getting there. I’m really trying.”

“I
know. You’ve learned a lot.”

I
jump her car. Before she leaves, I cup her shoulder and much to my pleasure, she
leans into my touch.

When
I get back in the car, Zoe asks, “Do you like Jinx?”

“Do
you?” Currie says, her eyes narrowing and daring me to be honest. “Inquiring
minds want to know.”

She’s
heard me say that to Heather several times. I smile at her imitation of me.
“She’s a friend.”

“She’s
pretty,” Zoe says.

Currie
presses her head against the car window. She fidgets with the lock and yawns.
“She’s okay.”

I
glance in the mirror at Currie. “Everything all right?”

“I’m
just really tired,” Currie says.

After
we get food and eat, I carry Zoe next door to her mom. Currie barely ate and
curled up on the couch right after dinner. She normally walks Zoe home with me.

As
I drop Zoe off, I say, “Watch Zoe. Currie’s really exhausted. She’s not running
a fever or anything. I don’t want to take the chance of Zoe getting sick while
her immune system is down during treatment.”

“Thank
you. Is Currie okay?”

“She’s
tired. Probably from all the running around we’ve done.” I walk home, hoping I
didn’t expose Zoe to anything Currie may have picked up from school.

Currie
could just be upset about Jinx. She’s not used to sharing me. If Currie thinks
something’s going on between Jinx and me, there just might be.

In the morning, Currie doesn’t
wake up until I rouse her. Harry is curled up on the pillow beside her. When I
feel her forehead, he growls and nips at my fingers. She’s not overly warm.

“Buzz
off, pipsqueak,” I say. “Remember who feeds you.”

The
stupid dog grins at me, like that’ll make up for him snapping at my fingers.

“What’s
wrong, Honey?” I ask Currie.

Currie
turns over onto her back. “My head hurts really bad.” She blinks back tears.

When
Currie gets sick, I can’t help but think worst case, brain tumor, cancer,
bubonic plague. “Let’s get you to the doctor’s.”

“I
don’t want to miss school.” She lifts her head, wobbles a bit, then falls back
into bed. “It hurts.”

I
smooth back her hair. “We’ll fix that, and it won’t kill you to miss one day.
I’ll call the doctor.” I leave her room and make an appointment at ten with the
pediatrician. When she’s sick, it makes me nervous after what Zoe’s been
through. I have enough time for a shower, shave, and breakfast.