Authors: Opal Mellon
Out of the Blue (23 page)
She got out of the car, stretched, and went inside. The lights were off, except for one in the living room. She moved through the kitchen and into the living room, where Brittany was asleep with Evan beside her. The TV was still playing something from Cartoon Network, so she picked up the remote and turned it off.
Brittany woke up, yawned and stretched. Evan didn’t stir. “Sorry Jenny, he didn’t want to sleep tonight. Not till you got home.”
“It’s okay.” Jenny reached down and lifted him in her arms, noting how much heavier he was getting now. The difference between three and four was staggering. He stirred slightly, turned towards her and snuggled. She seemed to melt all around him and suddenly felt tired, weak on her stilettos. She turned to Brittany. “Can you carry him upstairs? I’m still in my shoes. I’ll be up in a minute.”
“Sure.” Brittany stood and took him, then started towards the stairs.
Jenny bent and unhooked the clasps on her shoes. Her sweats kept getting in the way so she dropped them and stepped out of them, then pulled off the shoes, then slung them back on. She hoped Brittany wouldn’t come down before she was done. She took off her coat and went up the stairs in her sequined bra. She went to her bedroom quickly and changed into a soft sports bra and T-shirt. She moved to the mirror, brushed her short hair back with her fingers, and washed the heavy glitter away.
She could see her son now.
She walked to his room quietly, hoping not to wake him. Brittany came out and closed the door behind her.
“He’s totally out now,” she said. “He must know you are home, even if he didn’t wake up for it.”
Jenny nodded. “Thanks Brittany. What do I owe you?”
“Oh forget it. Just pay me the usual at the end of the week.”
“But you had to come in tonight extra.”
“And I enjoyed it.” Brittany gathered her stuff as they spoke. “Look, I love this job, and if you have to take an occasional extra shift, I shouldn’t have a problem with doing the same.”
“But I—”
“Shh.” Brittany gave Jenny a hug and a little pat on the shoulder. “That’s what sisters are for. You work too hard.”
“I hope you didn’t have too much homework.”
“Not at all,” Brittany said. “Do you need anything else? If not I’m going to head out.”
“Of course,” Jenny said. “It’s late.”
She walked Brittany out, then watched her pull away safely, and shut the garage. She’d wait for a text that told her Brittany was okay, and then she’d sleep too. Maybe.
She crept to the stairs, looked up towards Evan’s room, and decided it would be okay to go see him. She opened the door as quietly as she could, and moved over to the bed. At first she just listened to see that he was breathing, and when she heard the quiet air moving in and out, her heart relaxed. She sat gently on the edge of his bed. Touched his hair. She longed to hold him, longed to be held. Longed to be safe for a moment, to feel loved, but she didn’t want to wake him. A tear fell before she could stop it. She leaned forward and over him, letting herself rest on him for a moment. She had to be strong for him. She had to be okay for him.
Every night at the club was the same as the first time. A moment where she danced and expressed and ached and let herself believe that the men were enjoying her art, and not anything else. Maybe she could stay in that fantasy world forever. And it wasn’t just the money that made it possible to keep their house and not ever depend on someone again. It was the way that the spotlight and the pole and the music made her feel alive, totally alone without being lonely. No one could understand. Not even the other girls.
What she wouldn’t give to not feel lonely, to feel like someone understood. Not another widow, though. She didn’t know if she could stand having another widow as a friend, like somehow their pain would multiply together.
She did wish occasionally to be with someone who understood the pull of the service industry. The way you could be seen as an object but still feel like a person. Someone who didn’t judge. Someone who knew that beyond the desperation, there was a person with feelings and reasons of their own for being on display.
And she missed being around men. It had been three years now, and she could admit it. She missed men. Not the men at Sandz, or all the men in the world like them. But men you could talk to. Men you felt safe with. She guessed that even men that would normally be safe for women would treat her differently once they found out what she did. She guessed the only person who could really understand would be a male stripper. She went to her computer.
She didn’t find any male strip clubs, but she did find a place called Club Blue. She read over the FAQ. Escorts, but no sex. So they’d understand. They were also on display, also expected to please the other sex, to be objects. But like her, it didn’t go anywhere beyond that. They did hire out for dates. Maybe this could solve two problems for her. She could have someone come to the club and pose as her boyfriend to deter whoever was stealing, and have someone around who understood her.
To Love You More, available now!
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