“Whaaat?” I say, all sarcastic. In a teasing voice, I add, “Once you go Jacques-o-late, you know.”
Don laughs, and Max makes a noise like he’s holding in a comeback that’s about to burst out.
After I verify that I still have Don’s number and give him another five bucks, we head into Vons. Max grabs a cart and then changes his mind and gets one of those half-size carts. I can tell he’s processing the conversation outside. Either that or he’s way too concerned about grocery carts. I act casual and look at a stand filled with Republic of California T-shirts. “Maybe I should get one—”
“Mia, this worries me. I think you might have been running with a…dangerous crowd before.”
“Max, you can’t say that just because I hired someone who’s struggling with homelessness. That’s how you make the world a better place, by offering people who are down on their luck a second chance.”
“Um. True. But…” He stops pushing the cart in the middle of the aisle and looks into my eyes. “You’re currently vulnerable, and for whatever reason you’re making connections with—”
“Don’t worry. It’s not like I’m hanging out with them. And any shady characters I have been hanging out with are being investigated by the police right now, remember?”
He seems satisfied with that. After I grab some headache meds, we meander into the deli area. I peruse the deli counter sushi and stare so hard at the little plastic trays of California rolls with ginger that isn’t the right color and thumbprint-size dollops of wasabi, as if I think they’re about to tell me a secret and…they do.
I suddenly flash back to the art museum. It’s not like I’m watching a movie, but I can see glimpses of the accident. I see sushi rolls arranged in an elaborate design. I’m eyeing the California rolls and some with the orange caviar stuff on top. I’m picking up a few and balancing a wineglass when I hear a commotion just outside the building.
“Bitch!”
I look up from the sushi table toward the door, along with a whole room of people dressed like they’re going to the Grammys. I don’t want to miss whatever is about to go down. I feel a little thrill, like I’m about to watch an after-school fight. Whoever yelled isn’t in sight so I add some wasabi to my plate, thinking I still have time before the fight breaks out. I pick up my drink and start walking somewhere with a better view of the drama. I spot a nice place close to an ice sculpture of Cupid.
“I know you’re here, bitch” the voice yells. I look around for the angry woman, ready to watch the catfight that is clearly coming.
“MIA, where are you, bitch?”
Mia? She’s looking for me! Still clutching my drink and plate, I scan the crowd. From the sound of her voice, I’m thinking of ducking into the bathroom.
It’s exactly like an after-school fight. All the ritzy philanthropists and art lovers in Long Beach are forming a circle to watch. “Excuse me, but would you hold my wine?” I ask the person next to me. I don’t want to spill it when the fight starts.
I toss my hair like a pony as my attacker enters the circle. It isn’t a woman, though. It’s JP.
I gasp in horror and lean against the deli counter to catch my breath.
“Ma’am!”
I blink and look again. No table of raw oysters on a bed of ice. No artfully arranged rolls of sushi. I’m back at Vons where the sushi is prepackaged and ready to go.
The guy behind the deli counter repeats himself. “Ma’am? Do you need something? Are you okay?”
I answer without looking at him. I’m looking for Max. “Sorry, I’m fine.”
“So you don’t want the three-roll combo?”
“No thanks. Sorry!”
I spot Max. He’s in front of the Naked juices thinking way too hard about something. “Max!”
“What is it?” he asks. “Did something happen?” He sets down a Green Machine juice.
“I just remembered something. A woman was calling me a bitch and talking about her man, but then she disappeared and JP was standing there, but he was angry. I don’t know…it was confusing.”
“Just sit down for a minute. You’ll probably start having more of these, especially when you talk about the events. It sounds like your mind is putting pieces together but still working out what should go where.”
He steers me toward the front of the store and we sit in the in-store Starbucks. I drink a whole bottle of water and swallow some meds while Max waits patiently. I’m reeling from the vision, not to mention the headache. Thank God Max is here. Knowing that I’m not going through this alone is everything to me right now. I reach out for his hand and he gives mine a supportive squeeze in return. Tears of gratitude start to well in my eyes. I can’t believe I have this man to help me through this.
For his part, I think he might just be waiting out my recovery, which is confirmed when he says, “That double bacon sandwich looks good.”
I can’t help but laugh at the whole Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus aspect of this moment. Either way, I appreciate the support. A moment later, I let go of his hand because I’m totally buying this Martian a double bacon sandwich.37
I’m not sure if he notices that I’m sort of crying in line while I get him a sandwich or if he’s just pretending not to because—tears, I get it. No judgment either way. Do I do tears? I doubt it.
When I hand him the sandwich, he must notice that I look a little off. I mean, I am crying in a grocery store where we’re buying headache medicine because of my traumatic head injury and we just left the police station where I belatedly reported an assault.
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“I’m fine,” I say with a smile that probably looks as fake as it feels.
Max unwraps his sandwich and says, “Great. Do you still want to go to that casting call?”38
“Do we have a choice?”
“I still think it’s a dumb idea, for the record.”
I don’t mention that it’s not my first choice either. Barely holding back tears at Vons says that loud and clear, but whatevs. I decide to be as fine as I told Max I was. “It’s the only idea was have. Let’s go make some wannabe actress’s day and cast her as Crystal.”
35 Ha!
36 Brilliant, right?
37 More like letting JP buy him a sandwich if we’re doing proper accounting, which obviously isn’t my thing.
38 And the verdict is in: he’s a 100 percent typical heterosexual male. Still cute, though.