Sweetbitter(90)

“I heard about your place. That’s really fucking crazy. If we got shut down—”

“We didn’t, we voluntarily closed to perform repairs—”

“Steve would have our throats. I mean it, I would be sprinting out the door, never look back.”

“The Owner came by.”

“Oh shit—who got fired?”

“No one.” I thought back to the reverence, the hush, and it was as if I saw him pulling his hands together to calm us and I calmed. “He thinks we’re wonderful.”

Carlos shook his head. “You drank the Kool-Aid, huh?”

I nodded. Everything. Felt. Better. “I love the Kool-Aid.”

I leaned against the windowsill and sipped my beer. The weather was schizophrenic, appealing one minute, aggressive the next, frenetic, like water breaking from a dam.

“Ohio,” I said. “Thank you for asking.”

“I got cousins there.”

“You don’t.”

“Ay, ni?a, I got cousins everywhere. Speaking of, one of them is picking me up, we got errands. But he’s holding some grade-A shit.”

“Enticing. But I think I’m finally becoming happy. I think I mastered life, right here on this windowsill. I don’t want to move too much.”

“You sure? Where you meeting your man? We could drop you.”

“My man?”

Jake was quicksand. Hours ago my plan had been to talk to him rationally, he had promised. Maybe he hadn’t bought the tickets yet, maybe he wouldn’t go for the whole month, maybe I could meet them. But at that moment I didn’t want him. The man I was totally and completely devoted to was going away with another woman, and I was so fucking blind and tolerant that they thought I wouldn’t have a shred of feeling about it. Or perhaps they simply didn’t care. Finally—facts not colored by the weather or the voices and visions in my head. I didn’t want anything: not a drink, not a line, not a snack, I didn’t even want to fidget. It was the freest I’d felt in months.

The city does sleep, the windows darken and the streets vacate. New York dreams us. Wild, somnambulistic creatures, we move unhurried toward our own disappearance at dawn.

“Tess, that’s not your beer.” Will’s voice was far away. He was inside the plush noise of the bar and holding a spotless beer in his hand.

“I can’t hear you,” I said. I reached my hand out to touch the glass between us. I touched his face instead.

“Are you okay?” He grabbed my hand. The day rushed back to me. I fell backward, slapping the ground.

“I’m fine.” Will’s hands, Carlos’s hands, lifting me. “No more man hands.”

“Come inside,” Will said. I squirmed but his hand was stuck on my back.

“Carlos, are you going east?”

“You’re not going with him,” Will said, and now his hand was stuck to my shoulder. “Are you crazy? You can’t get into a car with a drug dealer.”

“Don’t be racist Will, now please leave me alone. I’m going east.”

“Donde, ni?a?”

“Ninth between First and A.” As I said it a black car with tinted windows pulled up. The front window rolled down when Carlos approached. I pulled my purse out of the bar through the window and put my beer inside it.

“Hi Carlos’s cousin,” I yelled out. “Simone’s house, please.” I opened the door and climbed over the seats with astonishing grace.





V


THROWING UP mostly water. Throwing up curds in mostly water. Throwing up in your lap. Throwing up in your purse. Men yelling. Red and green blistered lights out the window. Gravitational forces on you instead of a seat belt. Your face smashing into the seat back. You tried to hold on but you were thrown like a doll.

—

TO THEIR CREDIT, I was dropped off exactly where I asked to be and given a bump of grade-A shit. The front of my shirt was slick. The sidewalk felt dented. When I tried to stand up out of the car, my knees caved.

“Don’t blame yourself, Carlos,” I said. I felt in control as I consoled him. “I made some bad choices, you are not to blame.”

Carlos and his cousin sped off sharply, squealing, and I leaned against a wall. I watched a couple walk out of their way to distance themselves from me and I laughed at how bad my shirt smelled. I dug into my purse and it was soaking wet. I shook beer off my phone and it miraculously clicked on.

Hi, Simone, I texted. It’s Tess.

Hi!!!

You said we could talk.

I’m outside actually. If that’s ok.

I am going to ring the bell probably cause you’re not responding.

Oh look whose bike I see!

Hi Jake!!!

Maybe you can just ask him to talk to me, cause I know he’s there.

I’m sorry. I know it’s late for you. You’re old.

I’m not mad about France. No big d.

We got in a stupid fight, but it wasn’t that much.

Simone!!!

I’m going to ring the bell again, I’m warning you.

Ok, no one is answering, I’m going home.

Tell Jake I’m sorry and I hate him, whatever order you want.

I’m sorry that was me again, I know you’re home.