Page 50 of Up In Smoke

I have no idea what’s going on between us. One minute, it’s completely natural to be sharing my life and a home with him, getting closer physically and emotionally. Then it’ll be like one of us notices, panics, and pulls back to a safe distance.

A cold and lonely distance that I hate.

I keep telling myself that it’s all in my head. Rico is just being nice and looking out for me like a younger brother. Then something will happen and all the air whooshes out of my lungs because who needs oxygen when he’s everything and everywhere and surely when he looks at me likethatit has to meansomething?Right??

Urgh, I need a vacation from my brain. Unfortunately, the way I used to do that is no longer an option.

Confessing to him about my almost fuck-up was perversely one of the most beautiful moments of my life. Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely never want to have a scare like that again if I can help it. But seeing the way he was practically vibrating withpride after I told him I didn’t give in…the way he held me like he never wanted to let me go…hearing the emotion in his voice…in was all so raw and real and bursting with hope.

I love him so much. But I’m far too terrified to ask him how he actually feels about me because it’s almost certainly going to end in rejection.

So that’s why I have to fix this job situation. I talked with my therapists at Sequoia Heights about how damaging the power imbalances have been in my life previously and it came up again at one of my recent meetings. It doesn’t matter that Rico’s kindness is sincere. So long as I’m totally reliant on him, it’s going to fuck with my head.

The trouble is knowing this isn’t making me any more employable. I feel like I’ve gone through every coffee shop and restaurant in town searching for shift work, but no one’s hiring. I’ve applied for positions at the local hospital, the library, and a bunch of different kinds of stores. I’ve even managed a few interviews, but it’s gotten me nowhere so far.

I’m sure if I kept at it, I’d eventually be able to find something along those lines. And if this crazy idea doesn’t pan out, that’s exactly what I’ll do. But when this listing came across my feed, it seemed too good to pass up. It might not be ideal for my mental health. But the money is damn decent and, for once, it’s a job that’s actually in my wheelhouse.

Turns out that between Redwood Bay and San Clemente is a place called Trixie’s Tavern, the kind of bar that hosts bachelorette parties like they’re going out of style. There are shows five nights a week and twice a day on Fridays and Saturdays. Exotic ones.

They’re looking for a new dancer.

This is something I’m not only qualified for, but really damn good at. The catch is, obviously there’s going to be a bar there. I talked it through with the group at my last meeting, and theywere so great helping me work through my concerns it kind of blew my mind. They all said it was clear how much I missed performing and, without me having to go into numbers, they agreed the pay was far too good not to consider going to at least check it out. So we made a plan that I’d sus out the vibe with no pressure to commit, and a promise to head to a meeting straight after in case it sends me spiraling like the joke interview at Ross & Associates.

As this is a small town, I’m already starting to recognize familiar faces the more meetings I go to, which I’m still learning to trust. Anonymity is an essential part of the process, as implied by the name of the organization. But I’ve accepted that people are going to know my business, and that’s just the price to pay for the support I’m getting in return. I’ll keep their secrets, and I pray they’ll also keep mine. In fact, part of me is looking forward to touching base with whoever will be in attendance after my interview.

Sure, I’m slightly wary of Emerson, who seems extremely keen on being my friend and likes spitting baseball stats in my face. I literally know nothing about the sport aside from the lines I had to learn for my TV show because my character was obsessed with it. That just means I’ve avoided it in real life like the plague. So I’m sorry that it happens to be this guy’s thing, but he should find someone else to nerd out about it with. It’s gotten to the point where if I realize he’s at a meeting, I’ll do my best to position myself between other people because he always wants to sit just that bit too close to me.

But then there’s Leslie, everybody’s adoptive grandpa, who likes birdwatching and brings hard boiled candies to share. He’ll always be the first to tell you not to be afraid and to go for the thing you’re scared of, whether that’s a job, a relationship, a house, whatever. And Yesenia, the young mom of three who sometimes falls asleep and unfailingly has various amounts ofglitter on her person. She might not talk much, but she’ll be the first person to cheer other’s hitting new milestones in their sobriety and is very generous with her hugs. Jonny, the mechanic. Destiny, the accountant. Marcelo, the army vet. It’s happening slowly, but I can feel a web of connection starting to grow.

I can’t really say these people are my friends. This early on in my recovery journey, they don’t encourage recovering addicts to hang out in case we’d be a bad influence on each other. But they’re a hell of a better community than the assholes I used to see all the time back in LA. They make me feel good about myself.

Like Rico does. Like my brother does, even though he’s the other side of the world and still in the dark about a lot of what’s going on. I’ll let him back into my life more when things have less of a chance of fucking up again. In the meantime, it kind of feels like I have a safety net.

Like…if I wasn’t here anymore, there would actually be people who’d miss me. It’s getting harder and harder to pretend like I don’t matter in the world. That I’m not leaving a footprint beyond a TV show that—let’s face it—nobody remembers anymore and basically ruined my life.

Winston Saunders remembered it, though. I grimace and try not to dwell on that as I drive. When Rico pressed me for details and found out that non-interview was at Ross & Associates, he was positively thrilled to inform me that his colleague is not only married to a guy who used to work there, but his husband’s father is in fact the ‘Ross’ in the firm’s name. Rico didn’t outright say he was going to see about getting Winston disciplined, or even fired, but that was clearly his intention as he made a few calls.

So that awful encounter is well and truly done with. I can’t bring that energy with me into this interview, especially not when this is a job I’m low-key desperate to land.

Therefore, as I make the twenty-minute drive, I try and keep all these new people in my life with me, like a Greek chorus giving me encouragement. And I did also bring an actual cheerleader with me of sorts.

Klaus is looking out the window from the passenger seat beside me, and appreciation for his company washes over me for about the thousandth time. I know he’s not a service animal the same way dogs can guide blind people or sense when seizures are coming on. But he is a highly trained first responder in his own way, and I’m still shocked at how having him by my side has reduced my anxiety dramatically.

It’s not just that he’s so well trained. I know dogs are affectionate by nature, but I’ve never experienced that firsthand. Having someone—it doesn’t matter that he’s fluffy with four legs—be so damned excited to see me every time I walk through the door or wake up in the morning is healing parts of my soul I didn’t even appreciate were so damaged.

Which is why I’m bringing him along to the bar even though I’m not sure if he’ll be allowed inside. After that horrific experience at the law firm, I’m not certain if I’ll be able to walk through the door on my own. Between Klaus and the spirits of all my new friends, it’s like I have a whole hype squad, and I might just be able to do it.

This place isn’t only a club, though. It has a more wholesome vibe to it with its cheesy wild west theme and emphasis on fun entertainment rather than borderline prostitution. In fact, it’s also a small love hotel with several rooms that are decorated so OTT they actually come full circle and are kind of cool. Or that’s what it looks like from the website and their Instagram account.I might get there and discover it’s all just as terrible as Four By Four.

Or it could be great.

I wish Rico was here as well, but that’s way beyond clingy and I’d never actually ask him to do anything like that. He doesn’t even know I’m going to an interview at all. It felt like it might jinx it if I told him. Plus, I’m not entirely certain he’ll approve of the line of work. Being a stripper isn’t exactly something to be proud of. My parents are testament to that.

If I don’t get it, then he’ll never have to know. If I do…well hopefully the fact that I’ll be able to pay him rent and hopefully move out soon will be enough of an incentive to overlook any objections.

Disappointing him is the last thing I want to do. If he’s appalled at the idea of me dancing again, I might actually consider not accepting the job.

But the money…