Ess was propping herself up at the bar. While the muscles in her face were moving they had bypassed what could be considered normal expressions.
Jen was triggered. By all kinds of things. Memories of the two of them twenty-five years ago. But mostly what set her off was that Ess was stumbling and incoherent and once again Jen was going to have to take care of her and mother her. Get her to put down her drink and come outside and maybe she wouldn’t have to stop in the bathroom first.
And hopefully she wouldn’t puke.
Ano
ther mess to clean up.
“Ess!” Jen said. She said it more forcefully and maybe more disgustedly than she should have, but she was pissed. Nevertheless, her tone was what got Ess’s attention.
Ess immediately went on the defensive, demanding to know what was wrong with Jen.
Jen sighed. She knew she shouldn’t have spoken harshly. The more ramped up Ess got, the harder it would be to get her out of there. Which Jen, in her near sobriety, saw clearly was now her only mission, whether she liked it or not.
She dropped her tone. “Come on, sweetie,” she said.
Ess dropped the façade as well and became overly jolly. “Come over here and meet K,” she said, indicating the guy.
Jen gave him her side head and said formally, “Nice to meet you. If you don’t mind, we’ve got to go.”
“Maybe you’ve got to go,” the guy said.
Jen looked at him dumbfounded. The men she knew didn’t speak to women like that. He couldn’t be serious.
“Excuse me?”
“Take a ride. Cash it outside. Me and your friend are having fun getting to know each other so why don’t you take off.”
“Why don’t you take off,” Jen snapped. The rush of anger felt good.
She turned back to Ess. “Let’s go.”
“No,” Ess said.
Jen looked around in frustration. She put her hands on her hips. “Ess. Please.”
Jen was sure she saw Ess’s eyes flash just before she shouted, “Shut the fuck up!” And then her arm shot forward and a Frisbee-shaped puddle of beer struck Jen on the side of the face.
The force of it knocked her head like a bobblehead doll. When her head snapped back, she realized her hair was wet along with half of her face. Panicked, she put her hands on her hair and when they came away, she almost expected to see blood.
Instead it was only thin, foamy, piss-colored beer.
“Oh my god,” Ess said and folded her hands over her mouth.
Jen suspected she was laughing.
She grabbed a handful of napkins, patted herself down as best she could, and took a taxi back to the spa.
Showered and back in her bathrobe, Jen thought about sending Ess a long email telling her what she really thought of her. But she was too charged up. Then she called her husband and told him the story and cried. He told her to forget about it. That made her angry and so she unloaded on him about what a terrible person Ess was and her nice husband, who’d always liked Ess, was forced to concede that yes, he’d known there was something deeply wrong with Ess all along.
“Et tu, Ess,” he whispered.
Ess stayed at the cowboy place for another hour. The women from the spa had all disappeared, and so had the guy who’d caused the ruckus.
She went out to the parking lot. She went behind a lamppost and cried for a little bit, but then she saw a cop and he called a taxi for her.
The next morning, Ess took the first flight out. She didn’t talk to Jen. She didn’t talk to anyone.