Painting Flowers

Sneaking out of a stranger’s house the morning after a flurry of drunken kisses is never easy.

What was even more precarious about the situation was shifting the heavy tangle of sheets and not waking the person next to you, but I managed. Sliding silently out of the grandiose bed, I located my pair of high heels thrown carelessly under the bureau. However, I couldn’t quite remember taking them off. It took me a precious three minute to finagle my feet into the four-inch pumps and another two to practice walking in them again.

After gathering my purse, the man lying on the mattress caught my eye and I paused to study my most recent quarry. I mentally congratulated myself on the measure of Jack’s attractiveness; when dealing with drunken hook-ups it was easy to miscalculate the degree of someone’s looks in a shady bar with a few shots of vodka in your system.

But Jack looked just as adorable as I remembered in sleep with his eyes closed and the whir of cyclone hair around his head. My fuzzy brain distinctly remembered the stranger’s good sense of humor above all else. He’d been funny albeit a little withdrawn at times like he was playing a role.

Sighing lightly, I shoved those deep thoughts away for another time and left the snoozing man to his dreams. I swung a door back hoping for an exit, but wound up in an avalanche of band T-shirts and Levis. Jack’s closet was unsurprisingly messy. Before I shut the door, a shoebox from a shelf toppled down and crashed to the carpet. I held my breath in fear that Jack would wake up.

However, the guitarist was still thankfully deep in sleep. I tip-toed quietly to a second doorway and peeked inside to a cluttered bathroom. The vanity was covered with various bottles of cologne and aftershave products, creating an array of alcohol-based scents in the enclosed area. The bright yellow painted walls made my eyes hurt with the hangover I was battling, and I had to shield my eyes while I took the opportunity to freshen myself up.

It looked like the second wave of the Gulf oil spill with the amount of black eyeliner smudged underneath my eyes. I hoped I hadn’t looked that terrible last night. Rubbing away the black ate up more of my time, but Jack seemed to have no qualms about sleeping half the day away so I relaxed slightly. After I removed the artificial shadows, most of my concealer was wiped away also and the real bags were now visible.

They had been there since the explosive break-up of Ethan and I. The drastic change in my life had left me reeling, physically and mentally hurting from the separation. Nights had been lonely, filled with sappy Rod Stewart love songs just to add fuel to the fire. Many times I had to stop myself from picking up the phone and dialing the number I knew from heart.

I shook myself out of that line of thought. Ethan would do no good for me now, I tried to tell myself not for the hundredth time since the break-up. Maybe the sudden nature of the relationship’s demise was the cause of this attachment. I distanced those thoughts from my mind as I finally found the correct passageway out of the room.

Guilt didn’t even cross my line of thought as I prepared to leave Jack’s house. This little fling from the night before was already festering into a regrettable experience. One that seemed monumental in recent light, but after time it would fade into a forgotten experience. When I entered the kitchen I was surprised to see how clean it was compared to the rest of the house. All of the appliances were neatly lined on the counter tops and everything was in its correct place. There was even a trite bowl of fruit resting in the middle of the table.

Locating a glass took a few tries, but I soon found the cups housed in a cupboard directly above the sink. I filled the glass with tap water while inspecting the view out of the bright window; it looked onto a miniature patio with metal furniture arranged around a small fire pit. The pit looked like it hadn’t been used for entertainment in a while and there was only one lonely chair pulled up to its side. The sitting area was the only thing out there; plant life was notably missing from the backyard.

Fresh breeze swarmed in through the open window and I decided to spoil it by lighting a Marlboro. After the stressful weeks past, my smoking had kicked up a notch and I figured I’d quit when I was ready. When that day would come, I didn’t know. For now, I reveled in the buzz the nicotine gave me as it tingled my head. I chucked the remains of the cigarette down the dish disposal and ran the water for five seconds to cool it off though smoke still curled from out of the drain.

Huffing a sigh, I set my now-empty water glass by the sink and then saw movement out of my periphery; a person parked a forest green car on the side of the house. A string of expletives escaped my lips as I noticed the driver was a girl. She was pretty with curly brown hair and a heart-shaped face. However, the girl looked a little boring to me, like she only decided to wear the Chuck Taylor’s on her feet to hint at a rebel status.

But anger ran through me; Jack guy have been paying his girlfriend and I was just the pawn in his game. Well, I knew one thing; I wasn’t about to be caught in this awkward situation; I was going to make a run for it and hope for the best. Just as I inched out the back door, the front door creaked open and voices floated out of the open kitchen window.

Apparently, a guy had shown up with her two. I only caught a glimpse of his straightened hair before ducking under the window for cover. I pressed my back firmly against the siding to remain undetected as the two people jingled around in the kitchen.

“… was asking to go get some coffee with me sometime this week. He hasn’t been doing too much after the tour. What do you think?”

The man with her snorted, “Fuck Dorian. Well… not literally. Just forget about him now. I know you want to stay friends with him and all, but you have to distance yourself from him or he’ll reel you back in. I don’t want to lose you, Melanie.”

The sweet words, though they weren’t spoken towards me, made my heart hurt for the lost love between Ethan and I. That kind of love was irreplaceable and I wanted it in my life again. Or as soon as possible.

The girl, Melanie, sighed and her feet pattered closer to the man, “That’s impossible for you to lose me.” There was a significant pause where I could only assume they were sharing a tender kiss together. One again, the yearning for love overwhelmed me. After a prolonged moment, she continued, “Do you smell smoke in here?”

“Yeah,” the man replied and then laughed, “Do you think Jack picked up smoking?”

“I hope not,” Melanie replied, sounding overly worried about the possibility.

“Where is the bastard?”

“Probably still asleep.”

“He’s always asleep,” there was less joking in the stranger’s voice. “I haven’t seen him in almost week. Apparently he’s been playing guitar and eating a lot of Cheetos if what Zack says has any credibility. Shit, if we didn’t have this band I don’t know what he’s do.”

“You can’t always protect him, Alex.” There was a weird edge to Melanie’s voice. She sighed deeply and her tone softened, “Let’s go check on him. I hope him seeing me is alright. Last time he was just so… weird.

“Take your own advice,” Alex told her wisely, “You can’t always protect him.”

As soon as they left the room, I bolted from the tiny backyard and onto the sidewalk. It looked like Jack’s house was the only one on the urban street with any form of a yard. I had no idea where I was in town and no doubt I looked rough with the leftover makeup and same clothes as the night before. But I didn’t really care what the passerby thought of me; most likely I’d never see these strangers again.

The anger from earlier had faded now; it was good to know that that girl Melanie wasn’t involved with Jack. It took a lot of the stress off of me and I felt I could move past the little fling unscathed now. I didn’t want to be a home wrecker.

After half an hour of wandering, the cellphone in my pocket buzzed and my friend Sarah’s name appeared on the screen. I didn’t feel like talking to her because it would only turn into an ordeal so I ignored the call and shot her a text telling her I was okay.

“Hey, I know you!”

The bartender from the night before stood against the bricks, rifling through his pocket for a lighter. Smiling, I joined him on the sidewalk and offered him my lighter’s flame. He ducked his head down and lit his cigarette of choice; American Spirit.

“Prepared,” He complimented with a wide grin.

I shrugged, “You never know when this sort of situation will arise.”

“True,” he agreed just for the sake of it, and then continued, “How’s your hangover? You just kept drinking and drinking last night.”

“It was… an interesting night.” There was no other way to sum it up.

The barman scrutinized me, “Isn’t that what you were wearing last night?”

I laughed loudly, “Like I said, an interesting night.”

“Not here to judge,” he grinned, “And what’s your name, doll?”

“It’s Audrey. I never did catch yours either,” I prompted.

“Cain.”

“Shit, I better watch out for you. There is some bad mojo associated with that name,” I took a joking step backwards away from the bartender and almost ran into a pregnant woman. She glared sharply and hobbled along a step faster. “And what are you still doing here? Don’t you get any time off?”

“Not when you own a bar,” Cain sighed.

“Ah, The Thunderbird is yours?”

“Yeah, since 2007.”

“You can’t afford to give away drinks to people like you did last night with me in this economy. You’ll never make a profit that way. You gotta water down the alcohol and skimp people. It’s all about the money,” I told him animatedly.

Cain chuckled for a long while, “You should be running this place.”

“Shit, if you have an opening, let me know.”

“We’re looking for a bartender to work nights during the week.” Cain’s aura immediately snapped to a professional one, “Do you have any bar experience?”

I was slightly dazzled by the job opportunity. “Not professionally. I’ve been mixing alcohol for myself for years though.”

“That’s doable. Would you be interested?”

“Hell yeah.” I told him right off the bat. “I need a job.”

“It doesn’t pay too much,” Cain warned slowly, “But you can earn a lot of tips on a good night and you can keep those. Plus with how pretty you are, drunk men will definitely tip you well.”

“Good to know,” I laughed musically.

“But seriously if you have any problems with anyone let me or the bouncer know about it. We don’t stand for that shit at my place,” spoke Cain fiercely.

“I will.” I promised.

“Alright then,” He smiled down at me and the wind rustled his dirty blonde hair, revealing gauges on his ears. Cain might just be the most unique boss I’d ever had. “Let’s get you a uniform inside.”

For the first time in weeks, I felt a glimmer of hope emerge; I came to the city with nothing but a broken heart and emerged with the excitement of a bar job. The drama from the morning felt distant from me now. Even Ethan hurt a little less to think about. But all I knew was one fact; it was time to start a new life in Baltimore.

And I was ready.