Emily's Seams

I woke up the next morning on the floor of Julia’s room. I felt hung-over and my hand hurt. It took me a moment to realize that I felt hung-over because I was. An empty bottle of cheap wine was just out of my reach. And it took an even longer moment to remember what I had done to my hand. It wasn’t all a bad dream. It was all real.

I stood up too quickly and had to sit right back down on Julia’s bed. When my head stopped throbbing I staggered off to my room and picked up my cell to use the only number I had listed in my contacts. The Lab.

“Hello?” a friendly voice greeted me.

“Hey, it’s Emily. I’m not coming in today. Bye.” I hung up.

I brushed my teeth, washed down a few painkillers with some lukewarm water and went back to sleep, but this time in a bed.

I didn’t wake up again until five in the evening and only did so because my cell phone rang. The sound was alien to me because it rang so infrequently.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Em?” This was not my boss.

“Yeah, who’s this?”

“Hey, it’s Robert. I wanted to see how you’re doing, and I was hoping I could come by your place this afternoon to drop off some get well flowers George got you.”

I sat up. My headache roared back to life with my sudden movement but my heart was beating faster now and my stomach felt like it was full of helium.

“Uh, wow, that’s really nice of you.”

“It’s no problem! I’m not doing anything tonight anyways. Where do you live?”

“Hey, thanks but don’t worry about it. I’ll be back in the lab tomorrow, I’m sure the flowers will keep.” My words seemed to clunk out, one at a time.

“It’s Saturday tomorrow. Really, I’d like to see you.” He was asking now, not offering.

I felt my throat tighten as a familiar presence took hold. Dumb Emily shoved my pathetic self aside and answered for me. “Okay, sounds good. But I’ve been inside all day and I’m feeling a lot better. How about we get that dinner we missed. I’ll try to stay for the actual eating part.”

He laughed. “Yeah! That’d be great! I’ll come get you, okay?”

“Sure, call when you get here, I’m at 756 Oak Street. I’ll come down. No where fancy though, kay? I’ve got enough focus to find my jeans and that’s about it.”

“I’ll be there soon.” And he hung up.

The music was just as trendy as the servers. Stylish coifs and fashion forward clothes spiced up otherwise plain human beings. I’d never been here before.

A girl with a partially shaved head and pink streaks sat us at a table near the window and took our drink order.

“I’m really glad you feel better,” Robert said.

“I was hung-over.”

He sat up a little straighter but he smiled. “Really?”

“Not in the good, frat house way. How’d things go at the lab today?”

He shrugged. “We managed. But just barely. An order came in for Shirley and George signed for it and left it on the counter. Turns out it was tissue samples and they weren’t packed properly.”

I groaned. He didn’t even have to say it. “Wasted?”

He nodded. “Yeah, Shirley missed you.”

I scoffed. “Yeah, she missed me as in this is the one fucking day that I actually need Emily and she gets sick! What a little bitch!”

Much to my surprise, Robert laughed. “Wow, that was perfect! That’s actually exactly what she said! I wasn’t going to say anything but I guess you’re watching us enough to already know what we’d say anyways.”

I couldn’t help myself and I smiled. “Those were nice flowers. Is George okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. Feels pretty bad though. ” He looked at me.

My stomach dropped and my throat tightened. I silently willed him to keep his questions to himself.

In some strange way, my silent request manifested itself. The server came up to our table and dropped off our drinks. Robert had ordered a beer and I had a glass of tomato juice. I didn’t drink often and an entire bottle of Jude’s bargain red was not treating me kindly. Robert sat up straighter as the server rearranged our table to fit the coasters and the drinks. Just then I noticed how much crap was on this table. Salt and pepper shakers, two candle holders, a small statuette of the Virgin Mary and some fake flowers in a cheap plastic vase.

“You ready to order?”

Robert looked at me and raised his eyebrows. “Em, you want some more time?”

“Uh, tell her what you want. I’ll know by then.” I scrambled to grab the long, awkward menu. I scanned the tiny, strange print for something I recognized. The truth was that I didn’t care what I ate.

“I’ll get this pasta.” Robert said, pointing out his choice to the server.

“Oh that is so good!” the server gushed. “And you?”

“Yeah, uh, can I get soup?”

“We don’t serve soup. We have Hasenpfeffer, wanna try it?”

“Sure, thanks.” I shoved the menu at her.

Robert was smiling like he knew something I didn’t.

“What?”

“I just didn’t think you’d be into rabbit is all.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

He laughed. “Hasenpfeffer. It’s rabbit.”

“I ask for soup and the bitch recommends rabbit?” I was shrieking now. “What kind of place is this? No soup, here, have some bunny instead?”

Robert laughed again. “It’s stew!”

I looked down at my bandaged hand and muttered a few choice words to myself.

Robert stopped laughing. “Em? You okay?”

“Yup! Good!” I searched the restaurant for the blaze of pink streaks and made a desperate wave for the waitress. I caught her eye and pointed to Robert’s glass and then to me. I wasn’t making it through dinner without more alcohol. She smiled and gave me the thumbs up. “Sorry, I know that is so rude.”

“What’s that?”

“Waving the waitress down like she’s a bus.”

Robert smiled again. “It’s okay, I’ll leave her a good tip.”

I nodded and looked back down at my hand. I hadn’t been out for a dinner with anyone since the attempt at sushi with Robert and before that, it had been a very long time. I didn’t know what to say to people anymore unless they were dead, or potential figments of my fragile psyche, or I was trying to get rid of them. Robert was real and quite alive. And I didn’t want him to go anywhere.

“So...how was your trip?” Good, I thought. That’s something people ask other people.

He looked at me like I had a second head and then recognition set in. “Oh the conference! Yeah, that was alright. The boss doesn’t know how you knew about his IBS but he was grateful for your strategic seating arrangements. Next time though, he’d like first class as well if possible.”

A choked laugh escaped me. “I’ll keep that in mind. Honestly I had no idea about his little gut condition. I was just annoyed that he asked me to book the tickets. Hope you liked yours.”

“That was the best part of the trip actually. Thanks. Those conferences are just….” He trailed off.

“Why do you go?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s a good way to make contacts. And it’s how it’s played.” He looked at me and smiled. I felt like an ant under a microscope.

Once again, the pink haired waitress saved me and dropped off my beer. “I know what that’s like! Can’t stand to be the only sober one at a table.” she said.

“Thanks.” I grabbed the cold glass and drank deeply from it. Oh hell, I pounded it back. As I set the empty glass down, my eyes went back to my hand. “I’m not an alcoholic. Drinking is just convenient at this point in time.”

I waited for the sound of his chair pulling out and footsteps leaving the table. That would have been okay. I was here, present, but so were the table and chairs. The floor, the salt and pepper shakers. We were all here, watching the truly alive world go on without us and that was okay. Except he didn’t leave.

I looked up just as he was setting down his own glass of beer. It was empty. “I might be taking a cab home if we keep this up.”

“Rabbit stew is pretty good.” I said as we stepped out of the restaurant.

Robert stopped walking and bent over. I thought he was going to throw up but he was actually laughing uncontrollably.

“It...looked like vomit,” he managed between fits of giggles.

“Hey, fuck you. Yours looked like dog shit.”

He continued to laugh as we stumbled along the sidewalk towards his car.

“Hey, you’re calling a cab, right?”

He nodded as he dug through his pockets for his keys. “Yeah. But I’ll drive you home first.”

What? I actually had to stop for a second and think about what he had just said. “Don’t be a fucking idiot. I’d rather walk.”

He looked at me like I’d just asked him to find a derivative or something. And then it dawned on him. “Oh, right! That doesn’t make any sense at all.”

“Good to see you can hold your liquor.”

I’d lost count at four beers and we were both well past the point of functionally drunk. I felt like I was on a little rowboat at sea but I still had the good sense to take a cab home. Having your mother driven into a telephone pole by a drunk driver kind of burns that particular rule of modern society into your brain.

“I’m fine. I’m good to go.”

“Come on, don’t be an asshole. Gimme your keys.” I held out my hand and could tell that it was swaying a bit.

He smiled like a complete goof. “What will you give me for them?”

I sighed. And then lifted my shirt up. The look on his face was something else. I grabbed the keys out of his hand during his momentary stupor but he didn’t fight it.

“I don’t have any numbers for cabs on hand, do you?”

He nodded and pulled out his phone like he was in a trance. I could only hope he had called the right number because he asked for two cabs to the corner of Breast and Samson. We were at Rest and Samson but close enough. I’m sure the cabbies could decipher it.

“Em? I’m going to kiss you now.”

He stood in front of me and sloppily pushed me up against his car. We both smelled like beer and neither of us had particularly good coordination. He groped me as if he was messing around with PlayDo. My head was swimming and each move was another dangerous heave of the sea I found myself in.

“I’m gonna be sick!” I pushed him off of me and ran to the back of his car. The frothy acid, beer and rabbit stew covered the ground at my feet.

“Em? Em? Are you okay?”

“Fuck off, I’m fine.” I said between my gasps for air and spits of whatever was still in my mouth.

I stood up and took a deep breath of night air. The imaginary sea had calmed.

Robert came up beside me and looked down at my feet. “See? I told you the rabbit stew looked like vomit.”