Six: At the Bottom

Stella woke with her first hang over in six months. She’d almost forgotten exactly how bad they could be. Her temples were throbbing. Her mouth was dry. Her stomach felt like it was on fire and the burning rose up into her chest. In only two hours she and Lucy finished off two bottles of rum and stole drinks from anonymous bottles. They danced in the kitchen, they danced in the upstairs hallway. They avoided Charlie because they both knew he didn’t want to be found. But more than anything, Stella didn’t want to see him in that condition. She couldn’t stand there, watching him sipping, sniff and swallow anything handed to him. She wanted to think that this had just started happening in her absence, but there was something familiar about his behaviour. But while she rolled out of bed, being careful to minimize the movements of her head, she pushed the thoughts of Charlie from her head.

She dug into her bag, looking for a nearly empty water bottle she knew was in there. There was less water than she remembered. Tossing the lid across the empty room, she swallowed what was left and got to her feet. Standing next to the door, she listened for any sounds to tell her someone would see her as she made her way across the hall. There was nothing. She grabbed a change of clothes from her bag and headed to the shower.

The bathroom was small. Nothing like Judy’s spacious bathrooms with the claw foot tubs and intricate tiling. There was a small, frosted glass window above the bath tub. She drank from the tap, using her cupped hand to bring water to her mouth. It wasn’t enough. She wasn’t to be submerged in water. So even though she locked the door, Stella undressed quickly and climbed in behind the shower curtain. She felt dizzy at the movement and let the hot water stream down on her. It was more powerful than she was used to. She could feel her skin turning red from the pressure and heat. Closing her eyes, Stella rested her head against the wall and recalled the dream she had.

It was such a simple dream, but the colours had been so vivid. Stella was standing at the kitchen sink in Judy’s house, washing her hands and staring out at the mountains in the distance. They seemed to be looming over her even though so far away. They surrounded her, she knew it, so she had to look away. She couldn’t stand to see them anymore. Her attention turned back to her hands. She was rubbing them raw. Over and over, she continued to scrub at them. Stella had tried to will herself to stop. Her hands were clean. But she didn’t. Then the dream stopped. Maybe she woke up or maybe just ended. She didn’t know. Regardless, she was glad it was over.

She climbed out of the tub, drying off with a clean towel she found under the sink. For the first time in days she climbed into fresh clothes. It felt amazing to be clean after so many days. Afraid she would wake someone with the blow dryer, she towel-dried her hair the best she could and left the bathroom. She darted across the hall and locked herself back inside the room. There had been no sounds, but she couldn’t chance it. She wouldn’t know what to say to Parker if she saw him. And Charlie…She didn’t even want to think about how awkward that for situation would be. Mornings after were never easy, especially with a fiery stomach and pounding forehead.

Everything Stella owned was still stuffed into her bag. With hesitation, she pulled out her camera first, setting it on the tiny desk. The lenses, tripod, flash and additional memory cards were next. With her camera equipment out of the way she was able to retrieve her laptop. She crawled back onto her bed, sitting against the wall with her computer in her lap. She went straight to her email. There were three new messages. The first started with “we would like to thank you for your submission…” and ended with “…thank you for your understanding”. She was no longer feeling affect by the rejection letters and emails. They told her over and over again that her work was ‘fabulous’, ‘beautiful’, ‘stunning’, but it just wasn’t what they were looking for. Apparently there just wasn’t a large enough market for more pictures of mountains and rivers and natural beauty. She saved the rejection in to a growing folder and moved on to the emails that were left. Both were from Eric Leibre. Avoiding the first, she clicked to open the one sent that morning.

Ms. Watson,
Again, I’m attempting to contact you. The house line has been disconnected and I’m not sure how else to reach you. Please contact me as soon as possible. It is rather urgent.
Sincerely,
Eric Leibre

Stella groaned and deleted the email just as a knock on the door startled her. She waited for almost thirty seconds before answering, “Who is it?”

“Lucy!”

Stella couldn’t help, but smile. She’d missed the sweetness of Lucy’s accent, which some how made even the most simple things she said sound kind of like poetry.

Sliding off the bed and setting her laptop down on the desk, Stella opened the door. Lucy was standing there, her tiny frame only looking smaller in the clothes she was wearing. She seemed to be drowning in an over-sized Fresh Prince of Bel-Air t-shirt, while her legs were so slender in the black tights she was wearing. Despite how exhausted she looked, Lucy pretty much bounced into the room with a plate of food in one hand and a bottle of Dasani in the other. She set them down on the night stand and climbed onto the bed before Stella invited her in.

“I’m so glad you’re home!” Lucy giggled and stood to hug Stella. Stella was afraid to squeeze Lucy. Instead she patted her back softly and said, “I missed you.”

“And I missed you. So I made you breakfast.”

They both sat on the bed, facing each other. Stella took the plate and set it on her lap. Her stomach hurt too much to think about eating, but she remembered that she would feel better. After a bite or two her stomach began to settle.

“Tell me, what is it like to be back?”

“Over-whelming,” Stella admitted, “Everything seems so different. It’s a weird feeling.”

“This is just your adjustment period. Things will fall back into place once you get used to everything once again. Did you get lost or confused on your way here last night?” Lucy couldn’t stop grinning. Stella noticed that her pupils were dilated and sighed.

“You can’t get lost in a city like this. But I hope you’re right about the adjustment period thing,” Stella used the edge of her fork to cut another piece of the eggs. It was nothing more than egg whites and a piece of unbuttered whole wheat toast. It was more than enough though.

“Did you have to listen to country music the entire time you were out there?” Lucy laughed.

“Country? I listened to a lot of my Ryan Adams and Smog CDs, but my aunt had an amazing collection of classical music and some jazz too. You would be amazed by her record collection. There was something for every mood. I wish you could have come out there,” Stella told her. Lucy’s smile faded, turned to rather bored. When she noticed Stella staring she tried to force a grin and explained, “I don’t really like the wilderness.”

“It’s probably not what you expect,” Stella laughed.

“I think it might be.”

“So how have things been here? The same?” Stella wanted to change the topic. Lucy had no problem with it.

“You know I went to Montpellier to visit my father for a month. I think that is all,” Lucy said with a nod, trying to think about the past year. She shrugged when coming up with nothing else.

“Yeah. You mentioned it, sort of, in an email. How is your dad doing?”

“Not sure. He was called to Ibiza for ‘business’. But then I had his entire flat to myself. Oh, the French boys I met there, Stella. They were wonderful and they had endless supplies. It was just an amazing few weeks. I was hung over for almost a week when I got home. That’s when I met Micah. He’s French too. I came home looking for a French boy.” Lucy’s giggles were infectious.

“He seems like a very nice guy.”

“He’s bland.”

“Bland?” Stella finished the bottle of Dasani and set it back onto the night stand.

“You know, plain? But totally, sweet, yeah?”

“For sure.”

“Everyone’s glad you’re back, Stella. Things can go back to the way they were before,” Lucy said hugging her. Stella couldn’t force herself to hug her back, not this time.

“Back to normal? I doubt it.”

“I’m sorry.” Lucy’s gaze went straight to her hands.

Stella furrowed her eyebrows and asked, “For what?”

“I should be more sensitive. I know what today is. I’m sorry.”

Stella flinched. She hadn’t forgotten, but chose not to think about it. Her dream came back to her and she needed to lay down. Shoving her pillow into a ball she curled up on the bed and said, “I wish I could just sleep the day away.”

“Are you going to go?”

“No.”

“You have to go.”

“I don’t have to,” Stella said with a firm tone.

Lucy averted her eyes, staring at the clothes falling out of Stella’s bag.

“If you need cab money I can lean you some until you get back on your feet.”

Stella said nothing. Lucy turned to face her, smiled weakly and said, “I’m going to go finish cleaning up downstairs. I’m glad you’re back, Stella.”

“Thanks,” Stella said. She waited until Lucy had made her way downstairs before she slide out of bed to get more water from the bathroom.

She couldn’t help thinking that Lucy was right. Maybe she should go. But he’d never wanted that for her. He’d told her so many times. And she couldn’t stand to be there. It wasn’t as if she didn’t deal with the guilt on a daily basis. She didn’t need to travel across the city on New Years day just to feel it.

******

Parker rolled over and swung his legs out of bed. Tasha lay beside him, breathing loudly, finally sound asleep. She had tried to spend the night deep in conversation, most of which he dreamt through. His body had been completely exhausted and after only a few hours of sleep that hadn’t changed. His back hurt. His neck pinched. His sinuses ached. But he pushed him self off the bed and left the room in only his boxers. Stella was coming out of the washroom, looking hung over, when he stepped into the hallway. He was sure he caught a glimpse of her staring at the bulge in his boxers, but she covered it well with the rolling of her eyes.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he said in his most mocking tone, hoping she would feel the slightest bit self-conscious about her behaviour from the night before. Her eyes were still blood shot from the night before, but at least she’d cleaned up. Her hair was slowly drying, becoming wavy, unkept looking. It was probably the look she was going for.

“Hey,” she grumbled as she walked into her bedroom and shut the door behind her. Parker was surprised when he didn’t hear the lock shut. With a smirk he headed down the stairs, knowing all too well she was staring at his package through is boxers. There was no doubt in his mind that she wanted him. But his amused thoughts were interrupted by the site of Lucy cleaning up the kitchen.

The keg had been removed at some point after he went to bed. The cups were all gone and the counter top had been washed down. Two garbage bags were full and tied off next to the back door. All the dishes were put away and the floors were cleaned, almost as if they’d been moped. The kitchen was cleaner than it had been before the party went down.

“Lu, did you do this?” Parker asked as he headed towards the door to the living room. She moved in front of him, as if her little body couldn’t actually stop him. She put both hands on his chest and said, “Don’t be mad at me, okay? Promise.” He held her hands in his own and said, “Girl, tell me you didn’t clean up the entire house.”

“You were all sleeping. I was pretty wired. I didn’t want to wake you and I had nothing to do until I came down,” Lucy told him, pleading her case. Parker could tell the uppers still weren’t out of her system. She tried to push him away from the door, but with all her force she was no match, even without his resistance. Parker wrapped a bare arm around her shoulders and led the both into the living and dining room. It was completely clean. Another garbage bag was sitting near the front door. A bucket full of filthy water had been pushed against the wall. When Lucy noticed his eyes were on the bucket she explained, “I couldn’t lift it. I was waiting for you to wake up to move it.”

“You’re a good person, Lucy,” Parker said, turning to kiss her on the forehead. She let her weight fall against his strong body and rested her head against his chest. Parker enjoyed the contrast of her white skin against his dark.

“Let’s go find a little diner that’s still open today. Breakfast is on me,” he told her. She pulled away from him and explained, “I already ate. With Stella. I’m sorry.”

“No worries. Another time then. You’ll drink for free tomorrow night, how about that?” Parker winked. Lucy nodded and grinned up at him. They stood there for a moment. Lucy seemed completely content and Parker was wondering what he was going to do about Tasha, who was still in his bed.

At least that’s what he thought until someone cleared their throat in the staircase just beside the fire place. With his free hand, Parker gave a casual wave to Tasha while holding Lucy against his body, despite her attempt to move away.

“What are you doing, Parker?” Tasha asked. Her hands were on her hips, letting him know she was angry, maybe even jealous of Lucy. Parker wanted to tell her such an attitude was completely unattractive in a woman, but instead he thought he’d find another ways to get rid of her.

“Admiring Lucy’s perfect cleaning job. Everything I could want in a woman,” he said with a chuckle. Tasha glared at Lucy.
Parker kissed Lucy’s head again and went on, “I owe you, baby-girl.”

She went red in embarrassment. Tasha went red in anger and headed back up the stairs, slamming Parker’s bedroom door. Parker laughed to himself and said, “Probably made a mistake by letting her stay last night.”

“Maybe you should have thought about that before. Everyone knows she has attachment issues. But if you ignore her long enough she’ll disappear,” Lucy reminded him. He put his cheek her to head and said, “I know you’re right, Lu. You sure you don’t want breakfast? I have to head out and see my parents at some point. You don’t want something to eat?”

“I ate already, Parker,” Lucy said with a frustrated voice, “But if you want me to stay until Tasha leaves I can do that. I want to work on a sketch while I was here anyhow, if that’s okay with you.”

“That’s chill. Do what you gotta,” Parker said, finally letting her go. He stretched. All his stomach muscles were visible when he moved. In the mirror above the fire place he noticed Lucy admiring his back and shoulder muscles. He flexed just for her and watched her laugh.

“I’ll get to it then,” she told him.

“Me too. But hey, did Charlie stay home last night?” Parker asked.

Lucy shrugged. They had all lost sight of him at some point during the night. They both knew he’d probably skipped out. Parker rolled his eyes to the ceiling, as if in deep thought, but then stomped up the stairs.

Lucy felt guilty that everyone else was so worried about Charlie and where he might be, while she just figured he would come back on his own terms. Trying to avoid those thoughts, Lucy sat in the living room with her sketch book on her lap and her feet on the coffee table that still felt cold from being left outside over night. The couch, which she and some kid, who slept on the floor, had pushed into the living room from the shed out back, smelled of marijuana and car oil. The smell reminded her smoking up in the shed with Mia and Parker during summer while Charlie was out west visiting Stella. It was a pleasent smell, comforting, but she made a mental note to Febreeze the couch before she left, after she finished up the sketch she was supposed to be putting into Maurie’s art show at the end of the month. But it was hard to focus as she began to come down.

First Stella came into the living room looking melancholly and hiding it pretty well. She said she was going out for some air, but avoided saying where. Lucy didn’t ask. But she had to admire that for someone dressed in all black Stella looked extremely beautiful. She was clad in a pair of Silver jeans and an Operation Ivy shirt. The black leather jacket she wore was worn out, but extremely fashionable. It occurred to Lucy that Stella had no idea and really didn’t care about how she looked. Stella asked her to hang around until she got back, so they could chat and catch up. Lucy made no promises by said she would see her later. She wasn’t sure she could stay in that house when the last of the drugs wore off.

Next was Parker, coming down the steps two at a time. He pulled on his shoes in a hurry and winked at Lucy while pulling on a black beenie over his still damp hair. There was a little white powder on his nose. Lucy was about to tell him, but he caught sight of it in the mirror and brushed it away. When Lucy turned back to face the fireplace Parker reached over the back of the sofa to kiss her forehead.

“Be good, Lucy. There’s a fridge full of food if you want it,” he told her and left without a goodbye.

Only moments after the door clicked shut, Tasha stormed down the stairs in the pink 80s dress from the night before. Lucy didn’t look up when she heard her, but Tasha decided to make herself known.

“You’re Lucy, right?” she said, moving right into Lucy’s eye line, blocking the warm view of the fireplace.

“That’s right,” Lucy responded as sweetly as possible, but followed up with, “But I don’t know you.”

Tasha’s face went from smug to sour. Her lips pursed and her eyes squinted. Lucy maintained a straight expression and continued on with her sketch. With her pinky finger, she smudged the lead, then held the sketch away from herself, just to make sure she got it right. This lack of interest frustrated Tasha, who shifted her weight back and fourth and cleared her throat.

“I’m sure Parker’s told you about me. I’m Tasha. We’ve been seeing each other for almost a month now.” The girl’s voice was shaking. If she began to cry Lucy wouldn’t be able to keep up the game any longer.

“Doesn’t ring a bell. But I will tell him you said goodbye. Should I tell him to call you?” Lucy was bored of the conversation. She had sketches to do and this one was starting to frustrate her. The shading just wasn’t right. She wanted to just scrap the entire thing. But there was no time.

Tasha said nothing more. She pulled her dress up by the breast and went to the hallway closet to get her coat. There was a sound of a coat being zipped and then the door open and shut. The house went silent. Lucy got up from the couch and moved over to the stereo. There was a mix of classical music in a clear case beside the speakers. She put it into the CD tray and pressed play. The powerful sound of Bach filled the entire house. She adjusted the volume until it was at a perfect, calming level. She sat down right in the middle of the couch and flipped to a new page. She felt liberated by the music, inspired and fresh. The feeling might have continued if Charlie hadn’t thrown himself on to the couch and let his head fall into her lap. She hadn’t heard him come in, but she barely flinched in surprise.

His eyes were still blood shot. There was an stench of wet denim, alcohol and cigarettes. His once perfect curls were tangled and sticking up in various directions. There were bruises on his hands and arms that Lucy wouldn’t have noticed if the sleeves of his dress shirt hadn’t been rolled up to his elbow. She didn’t even want to know why he was soaking wet. She didn’t want to know why he was laying on her or if he was still drunk. Lucy slipped herself away from him and pulled her legs up against her chest, sitting on the very far corner of the couch.

“Is she going to hate me forever?” Charlie asked. His words were slurred. It was nearly three in the afternoon and he was clearly still wasted. There was no doubt about it. His body was trembling as he lay there on the leather couch, probably ruining it with his damp clothes.

“Who, Charlie?” Lucy asked. Even though it was obvious what the answer was, she hoping the questions could cause him to sober up, even if just slightly.

“Stella’s going to hate me forever. I don’t know why I did it. I lost my phone. I couldn’t call her.”

“Then why didn’t you just show up when you said you were going to?” Lucy asked glancing down at her sketch book. Charlie’s arm had smudged and moistened her drawing. She slammed the cover shut and threw the book onto the coffee table. There was no point telling him what he’d done. He was in no condition to grasp it.

“I drank too much and I just couldn’t stop and I missed her a lot. And she’s going to know.” Charlie’s sentences were mumbled by his sobs. There were no tears. He buried his face into the couch and spoke words that were inaudible.

“She’s going to know what? You can tell me,” Lucy said, trying to get it out of him. There were a million questions she wanted to ask him. He’d been so careful to avoid the topic before.

Charlie sat up with a start. He turned and sat cross-legged, facing Lucy. One hand grabbed her wrist and brought it to his lap.

“She’s going to take one look at me and know that I’m fucking up big time. Big time,” Charlie said with wide eyes.

“You’re wasted,” Lucy pointed out, “And being very day-time soap about this. Either you tell me what you’re going on about or go sleep and when Stella gets back you two can talk?”

Charlie went from scared to sad in an instant. His eyes became half closed. His grip on her wrist loosened. His shoulders slumped forward and he said, “Where is she?”

“Where do you think she is? You should have been there with her,” Lucy told him. She pulled her arm from Charlie’s fingers and stood up. Charlie stared at the spot Lucy had been sitting while she gathered her things into her bag. It was all becoming too much while to deal with while she was crashing. Lucy pulled her coat on and said, “I’m heading home, Charlie. Tell Stella I will talk to her later. You too, I guess. And tomorrow night we’re all heading out to the Social?”

She left without an answer from Charlie. He continued to stare at her spot on the couch, realizing how bad he’d fucked up yet again. The idea of Stella coming home to find him like that was frightening. Just in case she returned, he moved up into his room as if he’d never left. No one would know he’d just returned home except Lucy. She wasn’t likely to tell and Charlie would just deny it later anyhow.