Page 13 of June: Jess' Story

Is today a good day or a bad day?

It’s actually a good day. I don’t talk about them. With anyone. Except sometimes my shrink. He’ll be thrilled to hear about this conversation actually.

Then good. I’m glad.

September 20, 2016

Amy

I’m stuck. I might not be able to make it this year. Can you?

Jess

I think so.

I can make it work.

Thnks.

September 22, 2016

Today it's cold and overcast. Not perfect “cemetery weather” exactly, but close to it.

Aside from the weather, it’s the same drill as last time. May lets me take the Volvo. I listen to Prince for the majority of the drive. I make a stop for coffee, then two bouquets of flowers.

Since the weather is drab, I opt for brighter blooms than last time. This time, I do bright yellows and oranges for Amy. And for Tally, bright pink and purples.

I wear my saddle-colored Rag and Bone booties with a dark purple DVF wrap dress. My hair is down and loose, adding warmth to my neck on this 50-degree, gloomy day and when I get out of the car to walk the short distance to their graves, I slip into my long Ralph Lauren, wool coat.

It’s a quintessential fall day this time. There’s a breeze rustling, turning leaves off the trees surrounding the neat rows of headstones. And when the wind whisks up and around my coat, I start walking more briskly to avoid getting too cold.

Kneeling down on the cool grass, I start by arranging the flowers. Yellows and oranges surround the side with Amy’s name and pinks and purples surround the side with Tally’s name. While I do, I talk to both of them this time.

Hi, girls! It’s cold out here today. Feels like my nipples could practically cut glass! I know, Amy. Language. But I think Tally is old enough for some girl talk now, right? Remember that summer you were a senior in high school and I was only a freshman, and you took me with you to that kegger?

See, Tally, I’m not the only one who can be a bad influence.I giggle a bit out loud.Shall I catch you up on my life then? Let’s see here…Antony broke up with me last month. Said I didn’t have enough time for him anymore. He’s right. I don’t have time for bullshit.

Language! I know!

I’m working for a stylist right now. She does a lot of actors and actresses. A lot of work on broadway. And you want to know something? I hate it. I hate all of it. If I never steam another piece of clothing in my life, I think I could be really happy.

But I live in New York, rent free (still), and I have a couple close friends who I go out with occasionally. I have entirely too much casual sex. (Tally, ear muffs.) Actually, there’s no such thing, Amy. The sex is good, almost glad Antony broke it off because it was getting a bit stale, to be honest.

Okay, Tally, un-earmuff yourself. I hope wherever you two are today, it’s warm and sunshiney, just like the both of you.

I trace both their names silently, then dust my hands off and move to stand.

The warmth I feel at my back startles me, and he grips the back of my arms to steady me.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he says in that gruff tone of his.I whip around and come face to face (in actuality, it’s face to chest) with Alexander Palomino.

I look up at him and he looks different now. He’s got a full beard that’s neatly trimmed, a deep tan, and he looks like he’s packed on an extra 50 pounds of muscle. He was broad and large before, but now he’s larger than life. A real Thor amongst men.

“You made it,” I say, staring up at him.

“Came straight from the airport,” he says. I nod.

“Good.” I give him a quick smile. “I’ll let the three of you be alone now.”