A Little More Than Convenient

|Carmen Remington|
The bar we went to had the most cliché name in the world: Bodega. Now, until that day, I had no idea that bodega meant a wineshop or wine cellar. Despite its cliché name, the bar was very clean. It wasn’t very crowded, but it wasn’t full of greasy old guys either. No, it was fairly diverse. I got kind of annoyed, though, because it was dark, and it smelled like an elevator full of old ladies. It reminded me a lot of Hollister, only it gave me an even bigger headache.
After much prodding, Ross and Jessica agreed to meet us there. It took me promising Jessica to let her borrow my green Vera Wang cardigan (splurge) and Trent promising to set Ross up with Jessica. That, I was positive, wouldn’t work. Ross was an annoying egoist, and Jessica was a sarcastic smart-ass. Nope, not gonna work.
An old Alan Jackson song played softly in the background. Country music, you ask? We live in the South, and while Jonesboro isn’t a hick town, like say, Cherry Valley where my grandma lives, but it’s still southern.
Jessica and Ross waved us over. They both had beers, although Jess’s was a lite.
“Hello, people,” Jessica said.
Trent chuckled, “Hello.”
“Sit down, sit down! Ross has been waiting for you to get here for...,” Ross checked his watch, “approximately ten minutes. Sit, sit!”
I chuckled and sat down. “Gin and tonic,” I told the bartender.
“I’ll have a Bud Lite,” Trent said, “just not the lite type.”
Mr. Bartender nodded.
I turned toward Ross. “Ross, how come you always-”
“Stop!” Trent exclaimed.
“What?” I asked, startled.
Jessica stared like this was a huge deal.

“You see, Carmen, Ross loves to tell this story. He’ll spend hours in here rattling about his terrible childhood, and-”
“Ross objects to this accusation,” Ross said, waving his finger at Trent. “Ross will not take this.”
The bartender sat down our drinks. “Anyway, Ross, continue,” I said.
“Ross was a shy kid,” Ross began. Jessica snorted; I shushed her.
Ross shot Jess a dirty look. “Thank you, Carmen, you’re a nice girl. But anyway, Ross was shy, as I said. Usually, teachers remembered Ross’s name, but one teacher, Ms. Cline, forgot his name.”
Jessica snorted again. “And that’s why? Because a teacher forgot your name?”
“No,” Ross glared at her, “that’s not the only reason. You see, there was also a kid, who I’ll, to respect his privacy, I’ll call...uh, Jimmy!”
“You’re not writing a book,” Trent pointed out.
“Or making a movie or TV show,” Jessica added.
“Or-”
“Stop, you guys!” I snapped, “Let. Him. Finish.”
Trent and Jessica exchanged a look, but shut up.
“Anyway, Jimmy told Ross that his name was stupid, because it was the last name of Diana Ross. That made Ross a “fag.”
I cringed. I absolutely hated that word. “That’s terrible!”
“Yes, it really hurt Ross’s feelings. So, he started going by Harp, his last name, but evidently that was “faggy,” too. Since it’s a girly instrument. So, he went by Martin, but that made Ross have two last names. Ross couldn’t win.”
I frowned and finished my drink. “More please,” I told the bartender.
He nodded and took my glass.
“So what did Ross do?” I asked, ignoring Trent and Jessica’s eye-rolling.
“He had a long talk with his best friend. His best friend said that his name was fine, and there was nothing to be ashamed of. A name is a name. Besides, the kid who teased me was really named Angus.”
I made a face. “And he made fun of you?”
“Yep,” he replied.
The bartender sat down my second drink. I took a long sip. “And that’s why you talk in the third person?”
He nodded. “Yes, that is why Ross refers to himself as Ross, quite often.”
I chuckled. “Great story. One question though, was that best friend of yours...,” I trailed off.
He grinned. “Yep, that would be your husband.”
I laughed. “Trent, you hate this story?”
He shrugged. “It’s not like I hate it, he just tell’s it much too often.”
Jessica snorted for about the thirtieth time that night. “You’re just a big softie.”
We all laughed again. I’m not sure if we were truly having fun, or if we were just getting buzzed.
Suddenly, Jessica’s face fell. She stared behind me. “What?” I asked, “What’s the matter?”
“Hi, Carmen,” I heard a sheepish, familiar voice mutter.
I spun around in my stool. Ross, Jessica, and Trent did the same. “Christian?”
Crap, crap, crap.
“Hey, can we go somewhere and talk? Privately,” he asked, nervously.
I shook my head. “I’ve told you over and over that we’re over. Can’t you see that?”
His voice quivered. “I know I screwed up, but I still love you.”
“That may be, but I don’t love you,” I pointed out, “and you have to accept that.”
He shook his head. “I can’t. I love you too much.”
I sighed. “Cris-” He grabbed my arm and dug his nails into my flesh. Hard. “Ow! You’re hurting me!”
“Let go of her,” Trent murmured.
Christian glared at Trent, but let go of my arm. “And just who are you, may I ask?”
Trent smirked. “I’m her husband.”
Christian’s facial expression changed completely. There was utter shock playing on his face. “B-but.” Then he glared. “Carmen, you wouldn’t marry me after six months. We broke up a little more than two weeks ago, that means you just met him. Are you crazy? Unless...,” he paused, “unless you were having a fucking affair! That’s it, isn’t it? I should’ve known. Carmen, what did I-”
“Be quiet!” I snapped at him, “Just listen, okay? I didn’t have an affair. I would never cheat on anyone, no matter how much they cheat on me, Christian,” I aimed the comment at him, “because it’s a commitment. And anyway, I met Trent today and we got married today. I didn’t love you, simply because I didn’t love you. I love Trent.” I chuckled in my head about how good of a liar I was being. Badass!
“B-but-,” Christian said, but was interrupted by Trent.
“But, she’s my wife. So, I suggest you leave. Now.”
The testosterone was thick in the air. Technically, I did belong to Trent, but I wasn’t sure how I felt about him talking up for me like that. In any case, it was pretty funny watching Christian squirm like a two year-old who just got in trouble for eating worms.
Christian huffed. “Fine, have a nice life, Carmen’s husband.” I stifled a laugh. “And, as for us, Carmen, this still isn’t over.”
“Is too!” I chimed.
“Ugh! It’s not!” he yelled walking away.
“Is too,” I whispered. Jessica heard and laughed.
After Christian was out of earshot, Trent said, “God, what a douche.”
I snorted. “Now do you see why I attempt to avoid him?”
Ross and Trent agreed with me. “Ross dislikes him,” Ross exclaimed. We all laughed again.
Then I sighed. “Seeing him always depresses me.”
“How come?” Trent asked.
I shrugged. “I honestly don’t know.”
“I do!” Jessica chimed in. “He was more or less your first love. Of course, you’re gonna wonder about him. It’s all psychology. The human brain cannot forget about one’s first love.”
Trent, Ross, and I stared at her silently.
“Uh...”
“Um...”
“Ross does not compute.”
She rolled her eyes. “Have none of you been to college?”
“Yes, we have,” I replied, “we just don’t have Bachelor’s degree in psychology, either, Miss Branch.”
“Whatever,” she said, downing her beer. “Refill, please.”
“I have a feeling that it’s going to be a hard night, so make that two,” I said.
“Three,” Trent agreed.
“Four,” Ross finished.