#  
#

THE COFFEE PAINTER

# ALSO BY VERONICA SCHREIBER

**_Flash Baby_**

#

THE COFFEE PAINTER

Veronica Schreiber 

#

Copyright © 2014 by Veronica Schreiber

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the written prior permission of the author.

This work is a work of fiction. All the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

ISBN: 978-0-993702-0-7 (ePub)  
ISBN: 978-0-9937029-1-4 (Kindle)

www.veronicaschreiber.com

**N ICE PRESS**

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

Schreiber, Veronica, author  
The coffee painter / Veronica Schreiber.  
ISBN 978-1-4937-6465-5 (pbk.)  
I. Title.  
PS8637.C565C63 2014 C813'.6 C2013-908286-7

eBook editions (ePub and Kindle) by eBooks By Barb for booknook.biz

# BEGINNINGS
## NEW YORK 2000

September

TWO PENNIES whirled onto the shiny floor, Lincoln's heads swirling around and around.

"Don't worry about it." His pink lips percolated into a grin. "You were waiting too long." He passed me the mocha.

"It's okay. Don't worry about it."

"Thanks." My lips instantly parted into a grin.

"Hey, I'll see you around." He winked at me.

"Yeah." My brain raced for something more to say. "You will. Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow."

"You bet." The Starbucks' blue-eyed employee winked at me from underneath his Boston baseball cap.

For three days I went back at the same time. My body was in a fevered frenzy and my brain was full of ways of asking him out, but all I did was ask for a mocha.

On the fourth day I opened the glass door to Starbucks and I was feeling lucky—my push-up bra was staying in place.

I studied his smooth face, noticing that the days-old goatee around his strawberry lips made him look meaner.

He licked his lips into a wet "Hello."

"Hey. How you doing?" The words rolled off my mouth like I knew what I was talking about.

"Not bad." He looked me over. "You look hot." His blue eyes stared at me. "What's your name?"

I smiled. "Viv. Yours?"

"Damien. It's Vivian, right?"

"Yeah. Vivian Grimes."

"That's pretty. Damien Doyle."

"That's Irish."

"Hey, we should go out."

"Yeah. Sure." The thought of playing hard to get hummed in my head but I decided I was just too horny to be that girl. "Why don't you come to my place after work? It's close by."

"I'll be there around six."

"Yeah, that would be perfect."

He gave me my mocha and I handed him a napkin with my address and phone number on it.

"The lock is broken downstairs. Just come up the stairs and it's the first door."

"All right."

Fifth Avenue quickly became a jerking terrain of miserable middle-school kids who chucked their teeth-marked pizza crusts into the middle of the road. The hungry pigeons fought the cars for them.

My apartment building's entrance was cluttered with a rug of fliers and old pre-approved credit cards.

The stairs to apartment 2R creaked all the way up to my squeaky door and I was home.

I changed into my work clothes: knee-torn jeans, a black T-shirt, and an old man's green cardigan that had his name penned inside: Stan Smith. I pulled some latex gloves on and stared at the viridian canvas that I had started last night. There was her face faintly coming through. I mixed a dark green and then I tried to trace out the face but it disappeared. The painting had become a fine example of squished green paint brushed in all directions on the canvas. I tried defining her face in black paint but now she resembled an abstract green monster.

"Fuck," I sighed as I spat out the wooden tip of the paintbrush. "I fucked up."

Sluggishly I walked into the kitchen and took a shot of Crown Royal, the warm liquor easing me into a cozy lump.

My neighbour Desiree slammed her door and it shuddered me out of my stupor and reminded me that I had a date.

I changed into my dating clothes: a tight black top, my short pleated black skirt, and chunky wedges. It was my first date in a long time, so I downed a shot and then made myself a drink.

The ice was freezing my lips, and I couldn't wait to have sex.

"Hey." My glossy lips smiled at Damien.

His blue eyes looked me up and down. "Hey. How you doing?"

"Good." I spun around. "You want a beer?" I pulled out two Becks.

"Yeah. You have any roommates?" Damien asked as he leaned against the kitchen's wall.

"God, no. I feel so bad, Damien."

"About what?"

"I should have asked you out."

"You're sweet and hot." He held my hand.

"That's because you made me the mocha."

He bit his bristled bottom lip. "You're trouble."

"Maybe."

"Where are you from, Vivian?"

"Canada. The Great White North."

"Toronto?"

"No, Wolston. You can call me Viv."

"How long have you been here for?"

"A few years."

"You got a nice place."

"Thanks. It's a railroad apartment."

"Yeah."

"Yeah. You're a Boston fan?"

"Red Sox. You like baseball?"

"I like the Yankees."

"The Yankees. I gotta admit they ain't bad, but the Sox got spirit. We were the first winners, and we'll always be."

"Yeah. When did they win last?"

"Spirit takes you a long way."

"How long?" I wanted him so badly that I couldn't stop myself from appearing desperate. "I like your tattoos."

He held out his arms and I touched the prowling muscular panther on his left forearm. On his right forearm was a little shamrock floating on a thick vein. I pulled back his T-shirt sleeve on his right arm and touched the black Celtic cross that was on his bicep. His bicep was so beautiful.

"You like them, Vivian?"

I flashed my eyes into his big blues. "Yeah, I do, Damien." He wasted no time as he gave me a hard kiss and the weight of his body pushed me flat on my back. He smelled like coffee beans.

His hand touched my stomach and then my breast and his lips squished themselves onto my neck.

"Take off your shirt," he told me.

I smiled and gladly obeyed, and I was happy to see that my breasts were nicely squeezed together by the lacey push-up bra.

Gentle as a lamb he snuck up behind me and kissed my neck and it made me giggle. The bra came off and his hands squeezed my breasts as I felt his hard cock. I unbuckled his jeans and his dick had already pushed through the boxer's mouth. He pushed me onto the bed and put his prick into me.

"Fuck, Vivian." He caught his breath as he flopped down beside me.

We lay there together as his fingers traced tickle-circles on my thigh.

"Stop that." I swatted his hand away.

"We should get something to eat."

"Yeah."

"Hey, you want Puerto Rican?" He put his jeans on.

"I can't. Sorry. I have to go to work." I wrapped a sheet around me.

"What do you do?"

"I'm a painter." I sighed, because he probably thought that I painted houses. "I'm an artist."

"That's fuckin' cool."

I shrugged a "yeah."

"Can I see your paintings?" He looked around the walls and noticed nothing was hung.

"I don't have any paintings here."

"My sister wants to be an artist."

"Oh. That's nice."

"Look, I'll see you tomorrow." He grabbed my ass. "Same time?"

I broke into a smile. "Yeah."

## WOLSTON 1993

August

AFTER I graduated from high school I refused to go to university, which upset my parents. So they gave me an ultimatum: if I wasn't going to continue my education, I had to get a job. So Jeanie, who was my best friend, put in a good word for me at the hip Coffee House Café where she worked.

After my first week on the job, I felt like I'd been there forever. Day after day I stared at the pathetic art: eyesore nudes, lousy splatters, and horrific Monet-style gardens. A slow tug of vocal jazz blared over the little speakers, which competed with the screaming espresso machines and the tinny bells on the glass door. My pores perspired coffee, the fine grains of espresso speckled my fingernails, and my hands were red and cracked. I just couldn't see how Jeanie had done this for six months already and was still perky and smiling.

I kept going to work because I wasn't going to let my parents win. Every week there were new university brochures or art school catalogues on the kitchen table to entice me to further my education. When I complained about my job during dinner, my mom took the chance to emphasize that if I became an art teacher I'd still be an artist.

As summer turned into the dreary fall, I learned not to complain about my job and pretended to enjoy it.

"What do you think?" Jeanie asked, sipping her ice water.

"You want to know what I think of my job today? It sucks the same as when you first asked me."

"Just checking. But you'll be happy once it's payday. This job is all about money."

"Minimum wage. I don't know how thrilled I should get."

"You've got to see the bigger picture. Maybe we'll move out together. That would be cool. And we could totally do it."

"Maybe. Do I have to work more hours?"

"You're such a baby. I can't wait to move out. If I wasn't going to school I'd totally move out. That's what you should do."

I sighed as I wiped the counter down for the millionth time. "Jeanie, we'll move out together. I promise you."

"I should get that in writing." She bit into a cookie. "These are so good. You should have one. I love how it's still so soft. Hey, you know, I like those splatter blots."

"Beesuck's work?"

"You mean Beesack. She's pretty good. Since I've been here she's always sold out and I even tried to convince my parents to buy one. You know I've met her? She's pretty nice. You'd probably like her."

"You're gonna make me sick."

"You gotta be so mean. Since you're not going to school, you could probably learn something from her. You know, she teaches on the weekends at Wolston Heights Community Centre."

"No, thank you. I don't want to paint splatters. Jeanie, you do know that I'm doing my own work?"

"Duh, I know that." She paused. "You know, you should try putting some of your paintings in here. They could totally go."

"Maybe."

"You should. You should get your name out there."

"Maybe I will."

"You should do it. Then people would know who you are. Viv, you gotta start somewhere."

"Yeah, that's true."

"I'm pretty sure they'd let you. The Winona Ryder series would be so awesome in here."

"Yep, that was a long time ago, Jeanie." I didn't want to discuss how good my work was with her. She practically liked everything I painted and she even liked the ones that were failures. "Jeanie, I'll do it."

"Good. Viv. It's your turn to sweep." She plucked off the cookie crumbs from her shirt.
October 2

BY THE end of September, autumn felt like it was skipping by and we were going to have an early winter. The soggy grass was freezing into a crispy frost, the birds' squeaks were scarce, and the cars' dirty trailing clouds were visible.

My two bosses, Sharon and Kenny McCormack, were putting up a crazy cat clock.

"I don't know. You think it goes, Ken?"

"I think it's fine," Kenny reassured her.

"Yeah," Sharon said as she scrunched up her nose. "Vivian, what do you think?"

"Yeah, it's good. It's cool."

"Yeah, I think so too. Like a cool alley cat."

"Yep. Exactly," I told her.

"You see, honey. It's cool," responded Kenny.

"Yeah, hun. I really like it."

For the rest of my shift that crazy cat clock tick-tock to a snail's pace and I couldn't wait for Jeanie to show up for her short nightshift.

The bells above the door banged hard as a gush of wind pushed Jeanie into the empty café.

"Ugh. It's so cold," Jeanie said. "It's so dead for a Saturday. It's gotta be the weather."

"Nobody's out. It's like winter is already here."

"I bet you we'll get snow on Halloween."

"I heard somebody say on Thanksgiving," Colin told her with a big grin.

"Oh, Colin, please don't say that."

"I'm sorry." Colin shrugged his pointy shoulders.

"We have a new clock."

Jeanie looked at it. "Oh my God. I loved those when I was kid."

"Well, your dreams have come true. Sharon named it Sylvester."

"That's so crazy. Hey, you two, I have a surprise," Jeanie told us as she unwrapped her red sparkly scarf.

"What?"

"Are you guys ready?"

"What is it, Jeanie?" asked Colin.

Jeanie took off her old Blue Jays baseball cap and two red, red braids fell onto her shoulders. Jeanie, who had dark brown hair, had bleached and coloured her hair to a punk red.

"Candy apple red."

"Jeanie, you look great." Colin picked up a braid.

"Yeah, you look like Pippi Longstocking."

"Thanks, guys." She pulled off her coat. "Ugh, I can't believe I gotta work tonight. Viv, why don't you come out? It'll be fun."

"I can't. I have to get these paintings done." The real reason was I didn't like her other friends.

"You are such a dork. Painting on a Saturday night?"

"I gotta get them done."

"No wonder you never meet anybody."

"What are you doing?" Colin asked.

Jeanie grinned. "Going to a rave." Her grin grew wider. "You wanna come?"

Colin's lanky body leaned over the dessert case as Jeanie convinced him to come out to the rave. I was starting to believe that she liked him because she hung around him and grinned more than necessary.

"I'll get you a mocha."

"Thanks, Colin."

The espresso machine shrieked behind me as I flipped through an old newspaper. Ten more minutes and I would be done for the day.

My body irked at the tinny bell followed by the obnoxious laughter of a group of young guys.

"Aw, shit," I said to myself.

They seemed high on something. Nothing was that funny. The leader, who looked the oldest, dressed like a slimy salesman who liked to flash his chunky male jewelry. Then there was a squirrelly one who couldn't sit still. The squirrelly one picked on the scrawny one who seemed like all bones underneath his baggy clothes. Then there was the other one who hung back and begrudgingly looked around at the coffee house.

The one with a grudge stepped forward. His tight full lips relaxed into a smile as his dark blue eyes came alive under his heavy eyebrows.

"Hey." He stared at my name tag.

"What can I get you?" I asked.

"Hey, Vivian." His eyes softened on me.

"She's hot," The squirrelly one commented.

"What would you like?"

"We'll have four mochas."

"Okay, what size would you like?"

"Large."

"Four large mochas. That's for here?" I asked, looking up at him.

"Extra large, Sweet Cakes!" The squirrelly one added.

"Ignore him," said the one with the nice smile.

"You want it for here?"

"Yep."

He handed me a couple of crumbled bills.

"Okay and fifty-two cents is your change."

"Darling, keep it."

I tossed it into the shared tip jar.

"We didn't get any titty," the squirrelly one squealed.

"Shut it, Jeff." He smacked the squirrelly one.

"Please excuse him." The slimy salesman smiled at me with a pink wad of gum caught between his white teeth.

They sat below a hideous Monet-style garden pond painting.

"Alex, you're such a fucking grouch. Sweet Cakes, can you bring them over?"

"Sorry, there's no table service."

"That fucking blows."

"Take it easy." The slimy salesman told him.

"Alex, why do you gotta be such a grouch? I'm just joking."

"He's a fucking grouch because he had to play 'I Will Always Love You' twice." The slimy salesman slapped Alex on his back.

"Mike, it was three fucking times. It's a fucking nightmare. They're never happy with what you pick. And that's not fucking it."

"Oh, fuck. Are you still worried about your uncle?" asked slimy Mike.

"I told him I was sorry." Jeff whined at Alex.

"Yeah, that's not good enough."

"Ryan, get us our mochas." Mike snorted and straightened out his rings. "Alex, don't fucking worry about it. Jeff is not going to do that, right?"

"Yep, that's right. Ryan, get me some sugar."

Ryan the scrawny one carefully carried two steam-trailing cups and then came back for the sugar packets and the two other cups.

"You see there's nothing to worry about. Forget about it."

"Hey Alex, I've forgotten about it."

"Yeah, that's what scares me."

"Wow. These are so good," Jeff the squirrelly one said.

I grabbed a wet cloth and did a quick wipe of the other tables. The last table had a thick coffee ring sprinkled with raw sugar.

As the table shook with my scrubbing, my eyes spied grouchy Alex. He pulled at his shirt collar like the mocha was making him hot.

"Whoops!" Jeff said as he tossed a spoon at my feet.

I put it back on their table.

"Darling, what about a clean one?" grouchy Alex asked.

"You get what you get."

"Is that right?" he asked.

"Viv, it's three," Jeanie reminded me as she tied the apron to her waist.

"You look like you've got some fans."

"Yeah. Something like that." I untied my apron as I looked back at Alex and he smiled.

"Are you coming out tonight?"

"I told you, I can't."

"Ugh, you're such a bore. Colin's coming."

"Oh, that's great. You see? You don't need me there."

"Oh, Viv. It's gonna be a lot of fun."

"Ouch!" A sugar packet hit my back.

"Ping!" The squirrelly one cracked into laughter. "I was aiming at your ass, Sweet Cakes."

I kicked the sugar packet underneath the dessert case. "Jeanie, I guess Colin will tell me how everything went." I stuck my tongue out at her.

"You shut up. He's nice and that's all."

"Yeah, sure Jeanie."

Three middle-aged ladies came in. Their cheeks were wind-whipped red.

"You better get out of here before I ask you to stay."

"They seem like tea drinkers."

"I'm thinking low fat and fresh decaf," Jeanie whispered to me.

I buttoned up my grandma's old leather coat and plugged my ears to the music of Blur.

Outside I fought the autumn's stormy wind as I thought of my short summer: I graduated and I got my heart broken, which I tucked so deep in me that I thought of that one-night stand I had with my brother's friend Devon.

Then a hand grabbed my shoulder and I spun around. It was my mocha customer, Alex. He had a black toque on and his dark eyebrows went into a helpless puppy-dog look as he mouthed a "hello." I pulled the earphones off.

"Hi," he said as he looked side to side like he was about to steal something.

"Where are your friends?"

"They're inside."

"Oh." I found him cute as he shuffled back and forth.

"I'm Alex."

"Viv." I shook his hand.

"What are you doing right now?"

"Going home."

"You wanna go out?"

"When?"

"What about now?"

I smiled at him and his eyes lit up. It felt really good to feel wanted.

"Come on, Viv. I'll show you a good time. You won't regret it."

"Really?" I tilted my head.

"Maybe you'll show me a good time. Come on. What do you say?" His eyes pleaded with me. "I don't bite. Unless you want me to." He grabbed both of my hands.

My lips parted into a grin at his cheesy joke.

"Okay?" he asked again.

"Yeah, okay, I will. So what did you want to do, Alex?"

"I've had time to think this over. I thought at first maybe go to a bar, you know, have a drink and chat, but then I thought that it'd be too loud in there. I really want to get to know you, Viv, honestly." He held my hands. "So I thought why don't you come to my place? It's nice and cozy and then we can talk. You know, get to know each other properly. So what do you say?"

I looked into his big puppy-dog eyes. I bit my lip knowing that I shouldn't go to his place, but I badly wanted to make every wrong decision.

"Come on, Viv." His eyes begged me.

"Alex, I don't even know you."

"Let's get a drink?"

I looked down at my shiny black Doc Martens and then at his dirty old Adidas runners.

"Come on."

"Okay. We can get a drink."

We crossed the street and I followed him into a cozy bar that already had a few groups of couples huddled together.

"This is a nice little place. They really made it classy."

"It's nice."

"Very intimate. If you know what I mean?" His eyebrows arched up.

I laughed.

"So, Viv, tell me about yourself."

I took a gulp of beer. "What do you want to know?" I asked.

"Like, you want a smoke?"

"I won't say no."

"Now that I like."

"What else?" I asked as he lit my smoke.

"How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"Let me see your license."

"I'm seventeen. I'll be eighteen in November." I gave him the temporary yellow paper license. "I had my wallet stolen, so they gave me that. It's just temporary."

"You're turning nineteen in November?"

"I can't wait."

"It's a nice fake." He passed my license back to me.

"Thanks."

"You live on Harold Street. Where's that?"

"Wolston Heights. How about you?"

"My place is actually right there across the street. It's the penthouse."

"Really?"

"That's what I call it. It's on the top floor. Nice view. You want to see it?"

"Maybe."

"Wolston Heights, eh? Tell me, how do you afford a place like that?"

"I live with my parents."

"You just graduated?"

"Yep. I'm finally free."

"You didn't like school?"

"I spent most of my time in school just daydreaming. I know that's bad."

"I wouldn't worry about it. My dad sat me down and said 'you hate school now, but twenty years from now, son, you'll be missing it.' "

"How old are you now?"

"Twenty-one. Sixteen more years to go until I miss high school."

"Do you go to university?"

"Nope. What about you? Are you a college girl?"

"No. It seems to be the thing to do, though."

"Yeah, I know the feeling. So, what else do you do?"

"Paint."

"You paint houses?"

"No, I make paintings. Paint pictures."

"Artist. Are you looking for models?"

"Why? You do that?"

He flexed his muscles. "For you I'd do anything."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Anything." He kissed my hand and flashed his eyebrows at me.

"What do you do?"

"You."

"Oh, come on."

"Music. I'm a DJ I like a little bit of soul, punk, and funk all mixed into one."

"That's cool. Where do you DJ?"

"Raves and house parties but to make a living I DJ at weddings. So are you a raver like your coffee friend?"

"Jeanie? No. I've never really been. I've been to school dances."

"You're going to have to go."

"I'll make a deal with you. I'll go when you're the DJ."

"I'll remember that."

"What's your DJ name?"

"DJ Twigger. It's my last name."

"That's a cool last name."

"What about you?"

"Grimes. It sounds like I should be cleaning out gutters or something."

"It could be worse."

"Yeah, that's what everybody tells me. So you DJ at weddings. What's that like?"

"It's definitely not as glamorous as it sounds."

"You wear a tux?"

"Yep, that's one necessary evil of the job, besides Whitney Houston's 'I Will Always Love You'. I can honestly say I will always hate that song."

"Will I get to see you in a tux?"

He smiled. "Later." His eyebrows arched to a hopeful point. "You want another?"

I smiled at him. "I should call home."

"Your mom?"

"Yeah, it's getting late."

"Dinner? She's making your favourite?"

"You be nice."

"The phone is back there."

"Hi, Mom." I could hear the frizzling pan in the background as I watched Alex put his jacket on.

"Hi, sweetie."

"Mom, I'm not coming home for dinner, but I'll be home later."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going out with Jeanie."

"Okay. Do you work tomorrow?"

"Yeah, same time."

"Remember Ethan is home tomorrow. I'll need your help, okay?"

"Yeah, Mom. Look, I gotta go. We'll talk later."

"Okay. Have fun. Thanks for calling."

"You're ready?" Alex winked at me.

"Yeah."

"You want pizza?"

"Sure."

"My place is right over there."

"Where?" I asked, looking up at the numerous dark windows.

"No, not there. The next one." He pointed it out. "Up there."

"Oh. The penthouse?"

"Yeah, that's right. A gorgeous view."

"Maybe you'll show me later?"

"Maybe. I'll think about it."

I elbowed him.

"OW! You're sneaky."

After our pizza date we walked over to his building.

"Why don't you come up?" He touched my cheek. "Viv?"

"Way to go, Alex! Alex, you dirty dog! Hey, Mike, he scored with the coffee girl. I wonder if I give her fifty cents I'll get lucky too."

Alex's lovely eyes winced in pain. "What are you doing here?"

"It was fifty-two cents," I corrected Jeff.

"Don't get your panties in a knot, Alex. Have you seen Ryan?"

"Na."

Mike slapped him on the back. "What's her name again?"

"Viv," Alex muttered.

"Viv, I'm Mike. The pleasure is all mine."

"Mike, he didn't see him," Jeff informed him.

"My shit better be there, Jeff."

"He better fucking be there," Jeff mumbled to himself as he opened the door.

"Sorry," Alex said.

"Don't worry about it."

"What about tomorrow?"

"Okay."

"I'd drive you home but I don't have my car. It's getting fixed."

"It's okay. I'll take the bus."

"I'll walk you to the bus stop."

"Sure."

"You got one of those big old homes?"

"No. It's just a little two storey and we're actually on the other side of Wolston Heights."

We walked up to the empty bus stop.

"How long have you been working at the café for?"

"The whole summer."

"And I never saw you."

"Nope."

"I would have remembered a gorgeous girl like you."

"Yeah, but I don't remember you, and I can't say that you're gorgeous."

"What, you don't find this face cute?" He took off his toque and gave me a big grin with his eyebrows flashing at me.

"Gimme that." I tugged the toque all the way over his face. "I like you like this."

He took off his toque. "I still like you."

"You better." I poked my finger at his heart.

"I'm gonna miss you." He touched my cheek gently.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He kissed me softly on the lips.

My poster of Blur on my bedroom door rattled and I pulled off my earphones. "What?" I asked, already knowing it was my mom coming in to say goodnight.

She peeked in. "Do you need a drive tomorrow?"

"No. No, thanks."

"Remember to be home early for dinner. Ethan will be here."

Ethan was my big brother. He was four years older than me, and he was coming home for two weeks from Japan where he taught ESL classes.

"I thought he was coming in two days? Dad said he was coming in two days."

"No, it's tomorrow. Vivvy, I'll need your help with dinner."

"Yeah, okay. That's fine, Mom." I knew after work I still had time to see Alex and then rush home to help my mother prepare dinner.

On my bedroom walls I had four oil portraits of Winona Ryder from _Heathers_. They were the best art I had done in my last year of high school. Then there was my newest painting entitled _Green Female #1_. Her head was donned in a yellow towel-turban. Her black eyes were smeared, her nose was a whisked knob, and her lips were sniveled up against her teeth.

I grabbed my Lucian Freud art book from under my bed and flipped through the paintings until I found my favourites. There was _Girl with a White Dog_ —her breast was so masculine and meaty and felt manhandled. And there was Freud's self portraits, the _Interior with Plant_ and _Reflection Listening (Self-Portrait),_ the collarbones with their hollow presence—I wanted so badly to dip my finger into the fleshy paint.

## NEW YORK 2000

September 15

THE PUB was a few strides away and I took my vacant seat in the corner of the bar.

"Guinness?" The bartender asked as he pulled out a glass.

"Yep."

I lit a smoke and watched the Guinness's foam fill the glass. Finally he brought it over, and I took a big refreshing gulp. The fuzz tickled my top lip and I licked it off.

Across from me I caught a drunk staring at me. He was sitting beside an old man who was yammering on and waving his arms around like he was going to fly away. The drunk's Budweiser lips spread into a smile.

I turned the green monster painting into the green lady. Her face was bruised with her ball-like eyes closed and her lips tight. Her sharp shoulder bones held up her glowing thin torso. The painting was done.

After two shots and with a cold beer in my hand, I was transfixed by the green vine that had tangled itself into the fire-escape grate. Next door I could hear Desiree bumping around in her apartment and then the noisy hip-hop beats shook the walls.

I squinted hard at the green lady to try to see a mistake, to see something that would make me pick up the paintbrush. In spite of that, I painted the next canvas a Phthalo blue.

"Yep, yep, it's fine." My voice repeated itself through the drone of the fans as I mixed a lighter shade of blue.

I picked up the beer for a break and it was empty and the paintbrush was heavy with a fistful of light blue paint weighing it down. I looked at the blue painting again and I flung the heavy paintbrush at it hoping that it would paint itself. Instead it fell with a heavy splat onto the plastic-covered floor.

I picked up the dirty brush and painted her hooked nose and paper-thin mouth followed by her beady eyes and then her face, which was a bed of wrinkles. I thinned the massive blue curls until they became a halo of a background. Her flesh was heavy and her breasts were long with moon-pie nipples that barely fit on the canvas.
September 16

A CHILD'S scream woke me up. It was Saturday and I hated Saturday mornings. I threw a pillow over my head and it was already too late, my head was pounding. Soon the child's cries turned into the whiny shehnai music the neighbours felt the need to blast every Saturday. I pressed the pillow down to drown out the music. I tried to think of something to lull me to sleep like the different kinds of apples you can get at a grocery store. I tossed and turned and soon ran out of apples and my headache was worse. I hurled the pillow off and banged on the wall. The music and screaming stopped for a second and then they went back to their weekend fun.

The studio was bright and I winced as I sat there waiting for the painkillers to take away my headache. The coffee sat like cement in my stomach.

I prepped two new paintings, one was purple and the other one was Cadmium red. I closed my eyes against the purple painting and saw myself painting her hollow eyes and then the brush sloping down onto her beaky nose to the peak of her lips. I painted her in black. It was definite and opaque against the purple but the face was there. Her face was fatty and her nose was like a gnome's nose—pushed high up. Her lips were pouting and her flesh was blubbery. Her eyes were too flat so I gently hollowed them out.

I stepped away after a few brushstrokes because I was close and didn't want to overwork it. The lady was okay but something still wasn't right. The eyes were like shapes pinned on her and I tried to curve them out a bit more. Eventually her eyes were done but there was still something wrong with it. Her face was just too blah.

At that point I shut the studio's door and held onto the doorknob, wanting to go back inside and cut it up with a pair of scissors.

After my late lunch I sat there in the tight booth waiting for the cheque. An ugly mural of Greece with blue skies to white sterile ruined columns was my current eye candy. The mural was so ugly you just couldn't look away. The Greece mural reminded me of another unsightly mural. The mural was at the café my mother used to take my brother Ethan and me to after a shopping spree. The café's mural had the same blue skies but there was a massive paddlewheel fountain—the paddlewheel was forever whirling the turquoise water.

My mother gave us a penny each. I was the first to toss my penny into the blue-coloured water because I liked the sound it made. But my brother took his time aiming—eyeing that paddle for the perfect moment. Then he'd toss it at the paddle so that it bounced a few times before it splashed into the water. My mother had to pull us both away from the paddlewheel but I couldn't look away. I made sure my seat was facing the paddlewheel while I ate my Jell-O treat.

I headed out towards Starbucks and I noticed the sky was getting darker a little bit sooner each day.

"Hi. How can I help you today?" Damien was really quite lovely and I couldn't wait to fuck him.

"Latte."

"Will that be all?"

"Yes," I said, biting my finger.

He looked at me amused as he fixed my latte. "Wait for me outside," he whispered.

We sat there naked in bed having a beer and a smoke.

"I got a new job."

"What is it?" I asked, but my mind was thinking of the red lady.

"Working at a bar. A bartender."

Bar. Bartender. I took a long drag of my smoke and then my eyes opened wide to the idea of free drinks. I smiled at him as the word "free" lingered lovingly in my head. "Wow! When do you start?"

"Next week."

"I can come and visit you?"

"Yeah. Drinks are free for you."

I gave him a big kiss. My coffee days were ending but my drinking would be free.

## WOLSTON 1993

October 3

"LET'S GET a look at you." Alex whistled at me. "Darling, you look nice. Very nice." He leaned me against the cold cement building. "You smell so good. What is it?" His nose tickled my neck.

"Espresso."

"Yum. You want to go back to my place, eh, sweetie?"

"Yeah."

We walked up five flights of stairs and then through the narrow carpeted hallway, which was badly lit.

He opened the door to a small penthouse. On the right was a tiny kitchen and the washroom was on the left followed by the living room and two bedroom doors at the end. The apartment was furnished with lost and found furniture that had nicks or shredded arms or legs. But the stereo and TVs were new.

"It's not bad," Alex commented. "It's a nice cozy place."

"It's nice, Alex. Why do you have two TVs?"

"One's for sale." He loosened his collar. "Come see this." He took me to the window.

"Wow." Outside I could see the bar and pizza parlour we were at last night.

He kissed me as my head crushed against the cool windowpane.

"Your roommate isn't here?" I asked as my fingers pulled at his old brown belt.

"Na."

I fell asleep after sex and then I awoke to his loud snore. On the back of his door he had a poster of _The Good, the Bad and the Ugly._ My eyes flashed onto the bright digits of the alarm clock: 5:31. Then I remembered I was supposed to be at home helping my mom with dinner.

"OW!" My toe throbbed against the bed's metal foot. "Fuck!"

He sat up. "What are you doing?"

"I gotta go. I forgot my brother is coming over for dinner. My mother's going to kill me."

"Did you want me to call you a cab?"

"Yeah. I'm so sorry. I totally forgot."

"It's all right." He put his jeans on. "We had fun."

"I'll give you a call and we'll go out." Alex kissed me. "What time is your curfew?"

I gently punched his arm.

"OW! It's a legitimate question."

"I don't have a curfew."

"You're turning eighteen in November?"

"You want to date me when I'm eighteen?"

"Eh, darling, I don't want to go to jail."

"It's too late."

He smiled. "I guess so. I may as well enjoy myself."

The taxi pulled up.

"I'm thinking Friday?"

"Sure."

"I'll call you."

"You better or I'll call the cops."

"Sh."

From the taxi's window I could see the dining room's fake crystal chandelier twinkling through the sheer curtains.

I stomped my feet on the welcome mat.

"Vivian, is that you?"

"Yep."

"Hurry up. They're going to be here any minute."

"Okay." I kicked off my shoes and tossed my coat into the closet.

"You worked overtime?"

"I took a taxi home. You want me to mash the potatoes?" I asked as I got the milk and butter out of the fridge.

"Yes," she said as the front door banged open. "Oh, they're here." She ran out of the kitchen. "Ethan!"

I plopped the mashed potatoes into a fancy bowl that she had left out on the counter.

"Sis, you've grown."

"Well, you're looking more Japanese." I finger-stretched my eyes at him.

"Ha, ha, ha. Come here." He gave me his big brother hug.

"So, what are you cooking, sis?"

"Mom's making your favourite."

"Turkey? It doesn't smell like turkey." He sniffed the air.

"No, that's next week."

"We're having roast beef."

"It smells good. Is it almost ready?"

"Yep."

"It's so unfair. I never get this. This dinner makes me want to move out so that I can get my favourite."

"Maybe you'll convince her to go to school?"

"Oh, Dad." I sighed. "Eth, your hair is so long. She didn't like you with a crew cut, huh?"

"I think about buzzing it off every day."

"Who's the girl?"

"Henry, can you make the gravy? Ethan, honey, please put your bags in your room."

"Mom, did you put the _Star Wars_ sheets on?" my brother asked as he climbed the stairs.

"Maybe. You'll see." my mother shouted as she joined my father in the noisy kitchen.

"Jul, where's the wine?"

"It's right there."

"I'm not seeing it. I need it now."

"Here you go. Hun, the gravy looks too thin."

"It's not done yet. Is that the wine for tonight?"

"I don't want any. I don't like it."

"I didn't ask if you liked it."

"Henry, don't get snarly. Let's just have a nice dinner. Viv, where are the potatoes?" my mother shouted.

"They're on the table."

The gravy was done and the fancy crystal goblets were filled with wine except my mother's who had grape juice.

"I don't know why you buy that wine, Henry. Nobody likes it."

"This smells so good," Ethan interrupted as he scooped up some potatoes. "I miss this."

"You've got to tell us all about Tokyo," my mother replied as she took a slice of roast beef.

"I will. You guys gotta come out."

"We will."

"So, you're still doing that art shit, Viv?"

"Ethan, not in front of your mother," Dad reminded him.

Ethan smiled. "Yep, Dad. Sorry, Mom."

"Yes. Did Mom tell you that I'm working at a café?"

"Yep. Jeanie works there?"

"Yeah. She got me the job."

"She's going to business school?"

"Apparently."

"That's good. I was telling Mom that you should become an ESL teacher. It's an amazing job."

"Yeah. Mom already told me about it."

"It's really easy and you can experience the world."

"No, I don't want to see the world—eat funny food and be poked at. They sniff panties out there, don't they?"

"Vivian, not at the table. Ethan, please pass the gravy." My dad poked him.

"Viv, you should think about it," my mother told me as she sliced up her tender roast beef.

I rolled my eyes.

"I hope, Ethan, that you will talk to her about it."

"Another time," my father said not wanting to hear me argue through the whole dinner.

"So, does Ethan have a girlfriend?"

"Miki Oikawa."

"What?" Mom asked.

"Miki."

"Miki?" my mom asked, sounding out the name like she was saying maybe. "It's very pretty."

"She's from Japan?" I asked. "Is she a student?"

"She's a teacher from Vancouver."

"Does she speak Japanese?" Dad asked.

"Yeah. She's been trying to teach me."

"Is she still there?"

"No. She's having Thanksgiving with her family in Vancouver."

"When did you meet her?"

"Last year. She's one of the ESL teachers in my group."

"Well, at least it wasn't a student."

"Ha, ha, ha. And what about little sis?"

"What about me? I'm sure Mom has told you everything already."

"Do you have a boyfriend yet?"

I smiled and then dad questioned him about Japan and their technology and electronic prices.

"Viv, what are you doing tonight?" Ethan asked.

"I was going to paint." I tossed the sponge into the sink. "Why?"

"You wanna come out? It's a guys night at Old Collin's."

"Okay." I told him. "Isn't it like nighttime for you?"

"No. It's the morning right now."

Mom hugged us both. "Are you two going out?"

"Yes," we said in unison.

"Aren't you tired? You just got here."

"I slept on the plane. I'll be okay, Mom. Don't worry."

"Okay. Goodnight you two. Oh, Ethan, I've been trying to convince Viv to become an art teacher."

"Yeah, she wouldn't have to do too much." Ethan punched me in the arm.

"Mom!"

"Ethan, that's not what I mean." She wrapped her arm around me. "I understand very well that you want to paint and be successful, which is great, but in order to make a living you have to do something more. You know, protect yourself."

"Mom, okay. Enough."

"Well, goodnight and be good."

I changed out of my coffee-stained black shirt and into a tight red top and my black button-fly jeans.

The doorbell rang. I opened the door to Devon, one of my brother's friends and my summer fling.

The fling: I had just graduated and I was at a party with Jeanie. Devon happened to be there and I was feeling upset about Darren. I always liked Devon but I was always too young—I was just Ethan's little sister. Devon had big blue eyes, perfect shaggy brown hair, and a body that girls fought over—he was the Marky Mark of Wolston.

All I remembered from that night was kissing him, a lot of kissing, and then I was getting dressed to go find Jeanie.

"Hey, Devon."

"Is the lil' sis comin' out?"

"Yeah. Where's Shanny and Craig?"

"They're meeting us at the bar."

"Oh." I paused. "Eth is in the washroom."

"Great, he'll be another thirty minutes. How have you been?"

"Good. I've been working."

"Well, that's better than school. I thought you would have been like your brother and gone to school."

"No. Aren't you going to school?"

"Na, I dropped out. I'm doing construction for now. You look good, Viv."

"Thanks." My eyes fell onto his for a second and then went back to the ivory carpet and Ethan came tumbling down the stairs.

This was the first time that I had been out with my brother and his friends to Old Collin's bar because I was finally close to being the legal age of eighteen.

Shanny, who was a big redhead, was already there with a pitcher of yellow beer and glasses.

"Wow, your little sis is ready to play with the big boys?" Shanny's tiny eyes shimmered over Ethan then me.

"She's in training." My brother poked me in the ribs.

"So, tell me about Miss Tokyo?"

"Her name is Miki, and she's from Vancouver."

"Oh, Miki. I've heard that they go crazy over there for white guys."

"Shanny thinks he has a chance."

"Well, when do they ever see a redhead?"

"That's true, Shanny."

"Shanny's so freaking desperate."

"Devon, I'm still trying to find a nice girl."

"Dream on."

"Anyways, Eth, I was thinking about coming out."

"Oh, yeah, tell him your plan."

"Well, I thought maybe you could introduce me. I'm a fun loving guy."

"You know you're thinking of China. Japan isn't a second world country."

"My grandpa."

"Your grandpa doesn't know shit. That was a freaking long time ago. Tell us about Miki."

"He's thinking about marrying her."

"Is she telling the truth?"

"Na, I'm not saying anything."

"I told you, he's in love with her."

"Nice, Viv. She's my girlfriend, guys."

"That's great. Do you think Japanese girls would like me?" Shanny asked. "I mean I'm cute and loveable."

"Your mom's a liar," commented Devon.

My brother advised Shanny on how to pick up girls and then Shanny told him about his grandfather's stories of Japan.

"Hey, that was a good party when I saw you last time. Remember?" Devon asked me.

"Yeah, it was good."

"Weren't you with someone?"

"Yeah, my friend Jeanie."

"And didn't some guy dump you?"

"Yeah, that's right," I told him, not wanting to think about Darren. "Is that all you remember?"

"No, not really. I remember everything. It was like yesterday."

I smiled at him. "I was so drunk at that party."

"Devon, what happened with that hot chick? What was her name?" interrupted Shanny.

Instead of running home and crying myself to sleep over that loser Darren, I snuck into the bar's tiny dark washroom. The floor had clumps of toilet paper on it and the walls were covered in graffiti. Some were words of sweet love while others were curses of "drop dead" or drawings of limp dicks.

We walked to a dinky-sized city park that only had a swing set with three seats and one park bench that we all squeezed onto.

"I thought this was a good night for a little tribute." Shanny shook his weed bag.

"As you can see, Ethan, not much has changed for Shanny. It's weed twenty-four seven and it shows with that tummy. Ask him about his tits."

"You've got weedy tits?" Ethan asked, trying to pinch them.

"Watch it. They're sensitive." Shanny massaged them.

"I've been trying to get him into a wet titty contest cause I'm sure he'd win."

"Fuck off," he said as he licked the joint. "This is some good shit. What's Tokyo's shit like?"

"I don't know."

Shanny shook his head at Ethan.

"Well, you've just ruined Shanny's dream," Devon commented. "I told you you should go to Amsterdam."

My brother took a quick toke and then passed it to me. I exhaled out the good weed with a cough—a cough that left me gagging for air. I could feel the beer thick in my stomach, gagging to come out.

Devon slapped my back and then squeezed my neck. "You're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." I choked out the words.

"Eth, you're sister is so sweet."

"Hear that, sis?"

"Yeah." After my cough had calmed down I stuffed my mouth with a cigarette so I wouldn't be bothered with a soggy roach. I just didn't like weed. It either relaxed me into sleep or left me red-eyed with paranoia.

I stared at the tiny grocer that was closed for the night. The street lamp above illuminated the mesh trash can that had suffered years of abuse from the local raging alcoholics and bored teenagers. Shanny's laughter broke the silence and then Ethan joined in. Devon was giggling away. Devon's body kept jerking against me. Then I pretended to laugh.

"Hey." Devon nudged me in the shoulder. "You're okay?"

"Yeah," I said, trying to sound normal.

"Hey, Ethan, your sister's got the heebie-jeebies."

Ethan's hard eyes examined me.

"No, I'm fine."

"You're sure?" Ethan asked.

"Yeah." I pried my eyes off the demented trash can and tried to give Ethan an honest grin.

The joint passed underneath my nose to Devon. The trailing smoke sent a cold shiver down my spine and made the tip of my nose itch. Police sirens buzzed through the night air and then I heard my heartbeat and it sounded so loud as I sucked on the soothing cigarette. The sirens went silent.

I took a deep breath and laughed at one of Shanny's stories and then the sirens howled. I shrunk down and thought about hiding underneath the park bench.

"Guys? Do you hear those sirens?" I whispered.

"Don't worry. They're far away."

Devon blocked my view of the poor trash can, glittered with broken glass, and the sirens squealed.

"Guys, they seem like they're right over there." I pointed it out to them.

"Here comes the big, bad wolf," Devon said as he crept closer to me. They all shrieked with laughter.

"Stop it! I'm serious! There are cops!"

He tickled me and I fell onto the damp ground.

"Don't worry. Those sirens are long gone."

The night dwindled down and Ethan and I walked home. I was dead tired as Ethan told me about Miki and how he was her Gaijin boy in Japan.

"Who's your boyfriend?" he asked me with a big yawn.

"Boyfriend." I yawned. "I don't know."

"Did you play hard to get?"

"No. His name is Alex, and I just met him," I told Ethan honestly. "He lives in St. Maurice. It's close to where I work."

"Are you gonna invite him over for dinner?"

"No. Not yet."

"Do Mom and Dad know about him?"

"Nope."

"Why are keeping him a secret?"

"I told you, I just met him like yesterday. We're still getting to know each other. I'm not keeping him a secret."

"Is he forty-five?"

"No."

"Does he know about that Blur guy?"

"Damon?"

"Yeah, that's him. And what about Christian Slater?"

"You're such an asshole."

"You know you're blowing up this mystery guy."

"We're home sweet home. You should give Miki a call."

## NEW YORK 2000

September 24

DAMIEN HAD stumbled into my bed in the middle of the night with his lips crushing onto my ears. "Vivian."

"Yeah."

He flipped off the covers and grabbed my ankle.

"What?" I asked, not raising my head from the pillow.

"Fuckin' come on."

"Uh," I sighed as I nodded off. Really regretting that I gave him an extra key to my place.

"Ouch!" I tried kicking him and he wobbled back as if I did kick him. He swayed as he took out his dick. He tried whacking off but he ended up banging into the dresser.

"Come here you fuckin' whore," He told me as he tried to catch my ankle again, but I twisted it out of his hand. He finally caught it and squeezed it hard, but I kicked him and he went down. This time he stayed down. He stayed on the floor until the middle of the afternoon.

Once he got up and had his puke fest in the washroom I really regretted giving him the key; it was a stupid mistake.

"Uh, fuck. My back fuckin' hurts," he whined as he tried to stretch.

I poured myself a cup of coffee. He stood there yawning and stretching in the kitchen's doorway.

"Are you hungry?" he asked. "Can you pour me a cup?"

"I gotta get to work and you gotta go."

"I've got a huge fuckin' headache."

"Take a Tylenol and go."

"Can I have a fuckin' coffee?" he asked, annoyed.

I handed him a cup of coffee.

"It's fuckin' hot."

"What? Do you want it fucking cold?"

"Fuckin' bitch," he said quietly as he sipped at the coffee.

"When you leave give me back my key," I shouted at him.

"Fuck you."

"Go!" I shoved him and he threw his cup. The heavy green cup broke into three jagged pieces.

"What the fuck?"

"I'll see you later, babe." He wiggled my key at me as he left.

The whole day felt like a big disappointment, and I had Marlo breathing down my neck. I deleted all her phone messages. Her last message was desperate: "Viv, call me. Are you dead or what? Call me back or I'll call the cops." I picked up the phone and dialed her at home knowing that she was at her bar.

"Hey, Marlo. It's Viv. I'm sorry I hadn't called you back. I'm just finishing off a few paintings. Um, I'll call you when I'm done." I paused. "The paintings look really good." I paused again as my head yelled at me to hurry up. "Um," I hummed into the message. "I'll talk to you later," I said quickly, trying to beat the beep.

What a relief it was to walk into the warm comfy pub with the weekenders and the regulars and in the centre of it all was the bartender who was wearing a Hawaiian shirt. I took my usual seat that was across from the old man who talked to anybody who sat next to him.

"Eddie," the old man shouted and pointed at the door.

I turned around and there was Eddie who shuffled in and bumped a couple of the weekenders to get to his spot.

"Hey, Carl."

"How are you, Eddie my boy?"

"Could be better."

"Have a drink then. Drinks are on you."

"Ha, ha, ha."

The old man was grinning away proudly while drinking his dark liquor.

"What about you?"

"Cindy, little Cindy. She's had a boy and that makes me a great grandfather."

"Congratulations."

"Yep, I made it this far. It's pretty fucking fantastic. I just wish old Cindy could have been around to see this. He's a good-looking boy too. What about a congratulations drink?"

"You got more money in the bank than me, old man."

"Cheap bastard."

"Poor bastard."

"You're working for your brother still?"

"He doesn't pay me shit. Hey, how long do I have to wait?" Eddie asked the bartender. "I'm fuckin' dying here."

"Eddie, you want the usual?" he asked as he was getting somebody else's drink.

"Yeah, and give the old man a shot of Turkey." Eddie looked over to me. "And give her another." He pointed to me and gave me a smile.

I mouthed him a "thanks."

"Eddie." The old man patted Eddie on his back.

"Shut up, Carl, before I regret buying you a drink."

"I was gonna say thank you."

"Yeah, sure."

Eddie walked over to me. "Hey, I'm Eddie." He held out his long-fingered hand.

"Viv." I shook his hand. "Thanks for the drink."

"It was my pleasure." He touched his heart and his blue bloodshot eyes narrowed into mine. "Where have you been?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, strolling right into the next line.

"All my life."

"I've been around, Eddie." I grinned into his blue eyes. "That's cute."

"So, where is your special man? Why isn't he with you?"

"He's at home."

"You're breakin' my heart, Viv. I was hoping, really hoping that you were free."

"Sorry to disappoint but right now I'm not."

"That means there's a chance?"

"Maybe," I told him.

"What about this? I'm just saying if it doesn't work out with the lucky guy you got now." He waved his empty glass at the bartender. "You want another?"

"Yeah, but I can get it."

"Na, I insist. Another one for her."

"Thanks."

"Hey, for you, anything. Now as I was saying, if it doesn't work out, and just to let you know that I wish that it does work out."

"Really?"

"Hey, I wish you no harm."

"That's really sweet of you, Eddie."

"If it doesn't work out, what about trying out Eddie here?"

"Sure," I told him as I took my drink. "And I know where I can find you."

We clinked our glasses together and I was feeling really great—the Guinness was going down nice and smooth and I had my man in waiting beside me. I took a smoke out and I offered him one, which he took.

"Eddie!" shouted the old man.

"What?" Eddie asked, irritated.

"Where'd you go?" The old man laughed up a storm as it turned into a violent cough.

"I hope you choke." Then Eddie whispered to me, "Don't get me wrong! I love the son of a bitch like an uncle, but he knows how to get under my skin. Did you want a shot?"

My eyes rested easily into Eddie's uncouth eyes and somehow Marlo's voice entered my head, "Vivvy, I can't wait to see your paintings next week." I cringed at the thought of how I had built up those bad paintings. I grinned at Eddie because I wanted to say yes.

"I would love a shot, but I have to go."

"Your old man?"

"Eddie, you're sweet." I stood up feeling the Guinness giving me a new sense of balance. "I'll see you around."

He grabbed my hand. "It was a pleasure to meet you."

"Yeah, you too."

"I'll be waiting."

Like any place down in the East Village, Damien's bar catered to the young drunken crowd who after a while forgot how much a drink cost because the price of drinks inflated steadily.

The bar behind him was lit in red and Damien seemed like he was glowing even though he was just wearing black.

"What can I get you?"

"CC and Coke."

"What are you, a Canuck?"

"Shut up or I won't tip you."

"It's not a tip I want," he told me as he gave me my drink.

"Ha, ha. When do you get a break?"

"Fuck, I don't think I'm getting a break tonight. Fuckin' Johnny didn't show up."

The night was turning sour for me. Damien was talking up the little bouncy college girls and his smiles seemed too easy. When he came to me, he'd slap down my drink and I was lucky to even get a glimpse of a grin.

"Last one," Damien told me as he gave me a drink.

"Last one?" I said to him.

"Look around you. We're closing."

I looked around and the crowd was now just little corner lumps.

My legs were tightly hanging onto the stool as my body angled itself to get ready to walk. The liquor travelled through my veins at a spiraling speed that made me trip. I rubbed my eyeballs and carefully placed one foot on the floor followed by the other and I pushed myself up. I stood there and then just sort of wavered as I eyed the distance to the door.

The cool outside air felt warm against my face. I was feeling alive as I stretched and then rested my body against a brick wall. I pulled out a cigarette and tried lighting it but the match kept blowing out.

Up the street I noticed a group of drunks and tried to straighten myself up, but I found that I just wanted to crawl as they passed by me. Damien pulled me up and gave me a kiss on my cheek as his hand took the last smoke. He tossed the box into the trash but it fell out onto the road.

"Help yourself?"

"What the fuck is bothering you? I told you to fuckin' wait for me."

"I did." I pointed to the brick building behind me.

"The fuckin' bar is that way, Vivian." He pointed down the street.

I noticed somebody trying to throw up in a metal-mesh garbage can only to end up lying on the curb. "I was waiting for you," I told him.

He pushed me inside a taxi and I bumped my head against the window.

"Ouch! Fuck!" I elbowed him back.

Soon enough the taxi stopped and Damien took care of everything as I walked up the street to my place.

"Vivian." He grabbed my arm. "I'll meet you up there. I'm going to the store."

I walked up the stairs feeling each stair jingle underneath my feet. Halfway up I sat down with the dirty 24-hour light glaring down at me. I stared at the yellow-orange wallpaper with the red spray-paint squiggle tag.

"Fuck, Vivian. I fuckin' told you that you didn't need those last two."

I held onto the greasy rail as I pulled out my keys from amongst the matches, coins, and dollar bills. I slammed my studio door because he thought he could just fuck me—fuck me with that blonde.

"What the fuck?" he asked as he saw me resting on the plastic floor. He chugged on a beer and stood there staring at me like I was performing for him.

"What?"

"Why are you being a fuckin' psycho bitch?" he asked, taking a fresh smoke from his pack.

"Get out!" I told him calmly as I sat up. "Out!"

"What the fuck, Vivian?"

He stood there like a dumb fuck as his eyes wandered for the first time onto my paintings. I took an empty bottle and flicked it at him. Luck was on my side and it hit him on the chin. He touched his chin and then looked at me. Then he took a step forward and I grabbed an empty can and whipped it at him. I looked for another and another and I kept throwing objects of all kinds. He was yelling at me and he tried to grab me a couple of times but I fell down. After a good long fight he pulled me by my hair and tossed me onto the bed.

He was dripping wet from his own beer and he was yelling at me like some crazy boyfriend. I laughed at him and then he tossed his wet shirt in my face and my head hit the wall.

I awoke to a heavy smell of oil paints. My hands searched for Damien but his side of the bed was empty. I laid there comforting my sore head as my ears searched for any sounds of Damien—the apartment sounded empty. I turned over to my studio and noticed the lights were still on. The lights reminded me of the mess Damien made me do and I just hoped the paintings were okay.

My head felt like it was going to fall off as I stood up. I held my head as each step asked me why I had gotten up. The studio floor was a mess of broken glass and my brushes were scattered around, but the paintings were fine.

In the kitchen I watched the sun tickling through the tree's leaves and I eavesdropped on my neighbour Desiree who tossed something out onto the fire-gate. I wondered if it was another pair of boxer shorts from her raping boyfriend who she kicked out more times than I care to remember. Or maybe it was another rotten avocado.

As night descended my day got better and soon enough Damien was at my door. He gave me a careful kiss on the cheek as he passed me a bag of Chinese food, and I noticed the bandage on his chin.

"Do you work tonight?" I asked him as he flipped through the few free channels to _Star Trek_.

"No."

"Oh," I sighed as I pretended to remember. "Right."

Damien peeled his eyes from the Klingon fight to look at me. My lips pursed into a smile as I shoved a pile of rice into my mouth with most of it scattering down onto my shirt. His eyes went back to the Klingons.

"That's great you have tonight off." I brushed the rice off.

"Sh."

"You know, _Friends_ is on too."

He scooped another mouthful of fried rice into his mouth and a green pea rolled onto the floor.

"Fuck off, Vivian," he said as he scooped the rest of the rice from the bowl into his mouth.

"Did you want another beer?"

"Yeah."

I looked at his bandaged chin. "Damien, I'm so sorry. Did I do that?"

"Fuck off!" He grabbed my finger.

"Fucking watch it! I almost burned myself!" I brushed the hot ashes off the couch.

"Fuckin' shut up! I'm trying to watch this." And then I heard it. "Fuckin' bitch."

My foot kicked him hard, hard enough to give him a big black bruise on his arm. He looked at me and slapped me hard across the face. Then I kicked him again in the same spot.

"Fuck!" he screamed at me as his eyes moved back to Captain Jean-Luc Picard and Worf.

"Blah, blah, blah. I love you, Worf. Blah, blah, blah. Oh, Picard." I laughed. "Damien, what happened?" I asked as the _Star Trek_ credits came on. "Damien?" I tickled the little hairs at the back of his neck. He squeezed my hand.

"OW!"

"What the fuck happened to you last night?" He let me go.

"I don't know. We fought and then I blacked out." I swallowed hard because I hoped that he wasn't going to break up with me. "Sorry."

"You went fuckin' crazy on me."

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I was just having a bad day. That green cup meant a lot to me. My parents bought it for me."

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking. You want me to buy you another cup?"

"You really think that's going to make me feel better?"

"What do you want?"

I slapped his cheek for fun; I truly wanted to piss him off.

"You want me to go?" he said all sulky.

I laughed at him.

"You're fuckin' crazy."

"Please don't go." I gently touched his pink warm cheek.

"Get out!" Desiree's voice broke through my apartment and then came a smashing sound as she screamed.

"What the fuck?"

"Her boyfriend must be back. She'll scream for the cops soon."

"That's fuckin' messed up. Did you ever call the cops?"

"Just once. The cops know them. She did have a nice guy, Deon, who lived with her for a short time. She used to pick on him until he'd cry. I think she likes a good beating."

He smiled at me. "Is that what you want?" He squeezed me.

"No. You want a crazy bitch?" I touched his bandaged chin.

"No, I want a nice sweet girl who's going to get me another beer." He tapped my ass.

"I'm only getting you one because I want one."

"Sure, sweet thing."

The cops knocked on Desiree's door and then I heard her boyfriend scramble down the fire escape.

## WOLSTON 1993

October 6-7

FIVE 14" x 18" portraits were stacked on top of a few paint cans and the biggest canvas, which I had under-painted grey, blended into the garage's grey cracked wall. Mrs. Em, who was my art teacher in high school, thought that I should consider working on bigger canvases. So I bought a 36" x 48" canvas and all I did was paint it grey. For the whole summer it had intimidated me as I worked on the little portraits.

I squished out a blob of viridian paint and then I traced out the green lady sitting on a dirty white toilet. She wore a flimsy grey slip and on her right side the strap had fallen and revealed her tubby breast and dark nipple. I mixed a darker green hue and made her closed eyes bulging, which gave the impression that she was still staring at the viewer with her eyes closed. The creamy flesh of where her neck and spindly collarbones met—I gouged it out until it became a puddle of a jugular notch.

The afternoon dawdled on at the Coffee House Café. Jeanie worked on her homework and all I could think about was my green gargantuan lady. My impulse to paint bigger portraits made me call the art store and order five 24" x 24" canvases, and then I called my mom at work.

"Can you pick me up today?"

"What time?"

"Four."

"Honey, I can't today."

"Why?" I whined into the phone.

"I have a meeting."

"Oh. Do you think you could stop at the art store then? I know what I want."

"You can have the car tomorrow."

"Mom, no. I need them now."

"Vivvy?"

"Please."

"Vivian?"

"Mom, I can call them ahead of time and they can put it aside. Then all you have to do is pay and I'll pay you back. It's on your way home."

"Fine, okay, then I want you to start dinner."

"Yep."

"It's on the counter."

"Yep. Thanks, Mom."

Jeanie snuck up behind me. "Hey you, let's go out tonight?"

"I can't," I told her as I picked up the broom.

"Why?"

" 'Cause I'm painting."

"Oh, come on. Just you and me. We'll go out for a few drinks."

"Jeanie?"

"Vivvy, you're coming. One night away from the studio isn't the end of the world. So what do you say?"

"Fine, I'll go," I told her as I swept up the scattered espresso crumbs from underneath the trash can.

Ethan couldn't wait for Jeanie to come over. He knew that whatever he wanted to know about me he could ask Jeanie, who had a big mouth.

"Hey, Jeanie. How's it going?" Ethan asked as I shoved him into the wall.

"Jeanie, we should get going."

"How was Japan?"

"Rad. I'm going back."

"He's in love." I grabbed my coat.

"Miki. She's from Vancouver," replied Ethan.

"Viv said you were dating a geisha?"

"She's Canadian. Have you met her mystery guy?"

"God, Ethan, let it drop already." I opened the front door.

"She never tells me anything, Ethan. Now he's got me curious. Viv, who's he talking about?"

"She met him at work."

"Was it a customer?" Jeanie asked Ethan.

"Yep. I think his name is Alex?"

"Alex. I hope you're happy now. Jeanie, let's go." I pulled her outside.

"Wait. Who are you talking about?"

"Remember one of my fans?"

"Oh my God. I can't believe it. He picked you up?" Jeanie laughed.

"What do you know?" Ethan asked.

"Oh, he's totally cute."

"We gotta go." I shut the door on Ethan.

"I can't believe it. Did he pick you up that night?"

"Maybe," I told her, smiling.

"What's with the wine? Are you becoming a yuppie?" I pointed at her large glass of red wine.

"Not totally. No, I was having wine the other night and I sort of realized that I like it. I'm not really a beer drinker and cider makes me puke. Did Alex pick you up that night, huh?"

"Yeah, I like him. He's a DJ."

"Wow."

"Yeah. We really just met, so I'm just getting to know him."

"Okay. So how's Ethan's doing? He looks really good."

"Yeah, I thought he'd show up all bones. I can't stand sushi."

"Actually me and Colin went out for some, and it was totally good."

"I can't get past the seaweed and the raw fish. It's freaking gross."

"Sushi's not that bad, and it's totally good for you. I love the California roll."

"Yeah, yeah. And what's with you and Colin?"

"He came to the rave because you had to paint or you chose a guy over me. Whatever."

"I'm sorry."

"He's a lot of fun. I kissed him."

"You kissed him? What was that like?"

"Nice. It was just a kiss."

"And what happened?"

"That's it. We're going out again. It's not a biggie. I just wish that I didn't live at home."

"Does he?"

"No, but you're missing the point. Why don't we move out together? We could totally do it."

"Ah, I don't know. I just started making money."

"Ugh, you're so hard to convince of anything. Watch, you'll probably move in with Alex."

"That's not true. The truth is I don't have the money and what I do have I've been spending. I haven't even thought about moving out just yet."

"So you're going to live at your parents for the rest of your life?"

"I didn't say that, Jeanie. I just started making money and working on those paintings to show."

"Okay. You know you did start working in the summer?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Didn't you save any money at all?"

"Jeanie, look, I'd love to move out. When I have the money to do it, I will, okay?"

"All right." She sucked on the smoke and exhaled. "Is your brother going to meet Alex?"

"Maybe. I've got to tell you something."

"What?" She leaned in with her brown eyes sparkling.

"We've already made out."

"Slut! I'm just kidding, Viv. Don't worry about it. You just started dating."

"Thanks for making me feel better," I told her and I could feel the beer wanting me to spit out Darren's name and tell her everything.

"I saw Devon," I told her because I knew it would make her happy.

"Really? Does Ethan know about you and Devon?"

"No. And he's never going to find out."

"Did anything happen with you and Devon again?"

"Nope. Nothing."

"Did he remember?"

"Yeah, he actually did."

"Oh, he's a total hottie. I sure would love him as a boyfriend."

"I don't think he keeps girlfriends."

"I don't mind."

"You're such a slut. What about Colin?"

"Don't bring Colin into this."

"You said it."

"So, Alex is a DJ?"

"Yep."

"Really?" She slapped her tongue onto her teeth. "Oh, Vivvy. Vivvy is gonna have to go to a rave sometime in the near future."

"Yeah, yeah."

"So what's his music like?"

"I haven't heard it yet."

"Is he gonna be playing anywhere?"

"I don't know. He works at weddings. So is Colin planning on building bridges or something?"

"Engineering. He's thinking about switching his major to education. And he volunteers at Big Brother."

"Really?"

"Yep. I think I've totally found a nice guy. He's kind of goofy but I like him. He sort of grew on me."

"Like a wart?"

She punched me. "You totally have a tendency to be mean."

"I was only kidding. It's the beer."

"Sure, Viv." She stuck her tongue out at me.
October 8-9

ALEX TOOK me to his uncle's bar, the Fox and Hound. It was attached to Charmaine's Hotel, which was a Wolston relic. Ancient men stood outside chewing on their gums and tottering back and forth as they mumbled to each other.

"My uncle bought this place a while back."

We entered the dark hole of a place, which had fake marble linoleum on the floor and faux wood on the walls. Old men were chomping on peanuts and their eyes were wincing against the smoke to watch the massive TV screen.

"My uncle put the floor in."

"Oh, the marble?"

"Is that what it is?"

"Alex, you've just missed him," the bartender barked at him.

"Yep. I'm not here to see him anyway. He's already on his annual getaway."

"Lucky dog. So what can I get ya? Same old, same old?"

"Yeah."

"And who's the special lady, Allie?"

"Jamie, this is Viv."

"Welcome to the Fox and Hound. She's a foxy one, eh?" Jamie laughed as he plunked down the pitcher with two beer glasses.

We sat in a corner booth that was beside a cigarette machine and the entrance to Charmaine's Hotel.

"How old is this place?"

"I don't know. I think it must be from the forties. They still have copper piping. You can get some good money for copper. Aw, shit?"

"What?" I asked.

"Jeff's here."

"Hi ya." Jeff seemed overly happy with a slight jitter to his walk.

"What are you doing here?"

"Well, hello to you, too. Meeting Mike. So how are you lovebirds?"

"You're not supposed to be here."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm just not supposed to make deals with strangers. Mister Alex, relax."

"He's going to kill you."

"Stop worrying. Earlie's a pussycat, and he's on his vacation. I thought you'd be home so I told them to meet me here. That's what friends do."

"How'd you know Earl's on vacation?"

"It's no big whoop. Jamie told me." Jeff laughed to himself. "Jamie cracks me up. He shows me the bat that is supposed to bash my head in if I'm caught dealing here."

"I told you."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Anyways I bought a beer. Your uncle likes it when I spend my money here." He took a big gulp and then he looked at me. "Ah, I remember you, this is that coffee girl?"

"Vivian," Alex reminded him.

"You're still in high school?"

"No, I just graduated."

"Ah. Barely under." He gnarled on his gum and then his flinching eyes grew wider. "Mike's here."

Mike's musky hand fell on my shoulder. "You're Alex's girl? I forget what high school it was you were going to? One that wore kilts and knee-highs I think."

"Berwick Hall," I told him.

"What do you two want?" Alex asked.

"Hey, I've dated plenty of girls in high school and the best ones come from private schools. Berwick is definitely my top choice." Mike winked at me.

"Well, there was a Lisa and she bragged about dating a Mike guy. Do you remember dating a girl named Lisa?"

"Yeah, Lisa, the pretty one."

"Yeah, that Lisa. Anyways she said you were really nice, a dreamboat she called you, but you fell a little short." I smiled. "Sorry, that's as much as I remember."

"A little short." Jeff snickered. "Did you fall short, Mikey?"

"Shut it. So, Viv, you go to college like a good girl?"

"Give it a rest."

"I'm merely expressing interest in your life. You, Alex, better be nice. I'm your boss."

"That's when I'm working, you freaking prick."

"What's this about? What are you pissed at me for?"

"Don't worry about him, Mikey. He's mad at me because I'm here."

" 'Cause of Earl." Mike laughed. "He's the biggest fag in the city."

"He's on vacation."

"Thailand?"

"No, Florida."

"Me, I'm more of a south border kind of guy. Mexico is where I'd go," Mike said.

"What are you two doing?"

"A little R & R tonight. We're going to that Sugar club. My buddy owns it, and I'm going to try to get you a gig there," Mike replied as he tucked his shiny blue shirt in. "We ought to get the royal treatment. I don't even know why we're drinking here tonight. I mean your place is fully stocked."

"Because we're meeting Jennifer."

"Why not at your place?"

"I thought Alex was having his date there but it seems like they went out."

"He told you no fucking business. He blames me," Alex reminded them.

"Ah, Alex, I wouldn't worry about it. I'm sure Earl doesn't give a flying fuck right now. He's probably got somebody holding his balls. Anyways, the problem would be solved if Jeff gave him a slight cut."

"A slight cut? I did give him a slight cut and then he wanted more. I don't make anything for Christ's sake. He thinks I'm living like a fucking king."

"You'd make money if you didn't use it." Mike smirked. "I like your uncle. He's got a way of squeezing the guy out of his own balls. He's got good integrity."

We took our date back to Alex's place and I peeked into the kitchen cupboards. The cupboards were filled with liquor and more liquor.

"Wow. You have a bar."

"It comes with the job." He wiggled his fingers at me. "I'm thinking that you'd like a Captain Morgan and a Coke? Argh."

"Aye, Captain. When did you meet your friends? They seem inseparable."

He put his arm around me as he passed me my drink. "I've known Jeff since grade school. He was always getting in trouble. Mike I met through Jeff and it's like I've known him forever. At the time I was working for my Uncle Earl who is an asshole but my mother was very happy to see me working for him. Jeff moved out when I was in grade twelve and he was living with Mike. When I graduated from high school I moved in with Jeff, and Mike got his own place. Mike is a genuine good guy."

"He's your boss?"

"Yep. He's a manager slash supervisor. Depends who's asking. Mike's stepbrother owns Xtreme Party Entertainment: The extreme way to party."

"That's the commercial on the radio. That's them?"

"Yep. Mike is trying to teach Jeff to DJ because he makes a horrible dealer."

"I can believe that."

"Yep, but the good news is Mike is trying to get me a gig at Sugar. He likes to think of himself as my promoter too."

"Is that why he wears shiny suits?"

"He's always been a classy kind of a guy."

I snorted. "Is that what he really thinks?"

"Yeah, that's how he describes himself."

"Okay. When am I going to see you in your tux? Are you going to make me beg?"

"Darling." He sniffed my hair. "I love how you smell like coffee."

"You promised me that you'd wear the tux."

His finger shushed my lips. "Did I?"

I buttoned up Alex's crumpled white shirt and went to the kitchen to make up two drinks. The distorted reflection of my dark hair on the beaten up toaster told me that I had a massive love mess. I tied my hair into a sloppy bun that hung to one side and looked like a sloping horn. Alex was on the bed rolling a joint between his long fingers.

"What kind of music do you play?"

"A lot of soul and old funk gems. For a while I used to work at this record store, sorting through records. It was a cool job and I found some really rad records." He licked the joint.

"Why don't you work there anymore?"

He smiled. "Because they didn't agree with my pricing. They said I priced some records too low. Honesty is not always a store's policy."

"Did you get caught?"

"Na."

"What's it like to be a wedding DJ?"

"You begin to hate the top forty and then there's always _YMCA_. It gets everybody on the dance floor. You know, I was thinking. Why don't you get a job at an art store? Then you'd probably get a discount."

"I got this job through my friend Jeanie, the girl with the red hair. It was an easy job to get. It's my first job."

"Darling, you are spoiled. I can't believe that's your first job. I can't even count how many jobs I've had."

"That's because you've probably been fired from all of them."

"Oh, you think I'm a crook."

"No, you've just got sticky fingers."

"I can explain that. That's you." He wiggled his fingers at me.

"You're sick. You know that?" I punched him.

"OW! You're the one who said it."

"Why don't you put your music on?"

"I'll give you a CD. And you can listen to it while you're in bed with just the sheets."

"You're freaking sick." I punched him again.

"OW! Do you really want to hurt me? Do you really want to make me cry?"

"Skip. Where did you grow up?"

"Bury."

"Fort Bury?"

"No, not Fart Bury. On the other side."

"Oh, you mean Burpy Bury."

"Yeah, Burpy Bury."

My fingers fell on his sparse chest hair and I touched his gold necklace that was snug around his throat. "Your gold chain is nice."

"It was my grandpa's. It used to have a cross on it but it broke off. The cross was garbage but the gold necklace is real. What are you doing?" asked Alex as he watched me get dressed.

"I should get going."

He tugged at the shirt's knot. "Darling, I'm pretty sure that's my shirt."

A red one o'clock smudged into focus and my stomach grumbled for lunch. A big greasy burger sounded scrumptious as I pushed my feet into my worn slippers.

It was such a pleasure to have the house to myself. My parents were out shopping. That pleasure disappeared when I heard Ethan's voice. He was talking to Miki on the phone. I poured some cold coffee in a cup and put it in the microwave as I grabbed a brown-spotted banana to settle my upset stomach.

"Good morning!" Ethan shouted at me.

"It's the afternoon, Eth," I reminded him as I took my coffee out of the microwave.

"How was your night?"

"Fine," I told him, plunking in a teaspoon of sugar followed by an overkill of milk. I chugged the cool coffee quickly because I didn't like my brother's apparent grin.

"What?"

"You were home late."

"Who are you? Mom? Dad?"

"Where were you?"

"I was out with a friend."

"A friend? Jeanie?"

"Yeah. Where are Mom and Dad?"

"Out."

"I'm starving. Mom left her car?" I asked him as I searched the fridge for food. "There's nothing."

"They went grocery shopping. They took the van."

"Yeah, I need a burger."

"You spent a whole night out with Jeanie?"

"Yep, and we had a super fun time too."

"Jeanie called and said you were out with Alex. When am I going to meet him? I'll be gone in a week."

"I know. One more week to go."

"You're glowing. Is this love?"

"Bug off."

In the studio I decided to paint a new monster but this time I painted her flesh in a pinky nude and her toweled turban became a bilious hue of canary yellow. I painted her shoulders round and her collarbones fell deep into her mounded breasts. Her eyes became pits of black and her mouth became a garish squash of red lips. I liked that I could see the brushstrokes on her flesh. The painting was good—it was beautiful. It was close to what I kept seeing on each canvas.

Two icy-cold fingers touched my shoulder and I jumped. The blue paintbrush fell to the floor and a rise of hiccups scattered my yell.

"Vivvy!" I heard my mom shout at me as she yanked out the earphones from my ears.

"Mom, you scared me! Jesus! I can hear you!"

"I'm sorry. God, it's freezing in here and it stinks. You have the heaters on?"

"Yeah." She pressed her cold hand to my cheeks and brow. "I have the fans going. I feel fine."

"You're okay? You're not dizzy?"

"I'm fine. What'd you want?"

"Dinner's here. What happened to all your paintings?"

"I needed to do something else."

"I thought you were gonna show them to your boss?"

I picked the brush up off the floor. "I'm still going to show them. I just need something to show. Something good."

"Oh, the green one. Wow. It's huge."

"I'm still working on it."

"Okay. I won't say anything more."

"They were too flat before."

"Oh. The texture looks really good."

"Yeah. You said dinner's here?"

"Yep. Chinese tonight. Vivvy, I just don't like these fumes."

"The fans are going. It's not that bad."

"I can still smell it."

"Maybe it's just the garage smell."

"Maybe we'll get you a mask."

"Yep, okay," I told her. "You can buy it for me." I dunked the paintbrush into the turpentine.

"Those fumes aren't good for you."

"I know that."

"Let's eat while it's hot."

Like usual I was the first one at the table. My dad and Ethan had a hard time peeling their eyes off of the football game.

"Isn't it over yet?" I asked.

"You're gonna shut the TV off?" my mother asked my dad.

"It's the game," my dad responded, sitting at the head of the table with a clear view of the TV.

"Can you put it down a bit, please?" My dad lowered the volume and we all sat down.

"So Vivvy, Ethan said that you want to bring your boyfriend down for dinner?"

The egg roll's hot oil burned my tongue. "Alex."

"I didn't even know you had a boyfriend."

"Mom, I just started dating him, and Ethan weaseled it out of Jeanie."

"Jeanie has a big mouth."

"Ha, ha, ha."

"So you want Alex to come down for dinner?" my mom asked again.

"Yeah, I guess so. I was thinking tomorrow. I still gotta ask."

"It's Thanksgiving. He's going to be alone for Thanksgiving?"

"He's having it on Monday."

"Please invite him down. So Vivvy, tell me about Alex? How old is he?"

"Twenty-one."

"Where did you meet him?"

"At work. He's a DJ."

"For the radio?"

"No, you know, mixes records, like at clubs."

"Oh. And that's his job?"

"That's what he likes to do. Right now he's a wedding DJ."

"A hired DJ?"

"Yeah. He works for Xtreme Party Entertainment."

"The extreme way to party," Ethan mimicked their radio commercial.

"Yep, that's the one."

"Well, I look forward to meeting him. This is your first boyfriend."

"Yes, it is, because you guys locked me away at a girls school."

"I can't believe my little sis is growing up. I go away and you were just a kid, and I come back and you're all grown up."

"Enough, Ethan. You're getting Alex here. You better be nice to me. Mom, can you tell him to be nice?"

"I'm not getting involved."

"Sh, sh, sh," my dad told us as he yanked up the TV's volume.

## NEW YORK 2000

October

SOON ENOUGH Damien invited me to his place. I met his roommate Corey who was also the drummer in their band, Split Personality. Every time I went over Corey was sitting in the middle of a ratty orange couch, thumb-clicking away. Even in the middle of the night the blue screen was lighting up his droopy figure.

One night while I was waiting for Damien to return from the washroom, I rummaged through his egg crate of guitar magazines and found a nice sunset binder. I opened it to see a picture of Damien's stiff cock. The picture made it seem so enormous. It was definitely a flattering shot of him. The washroom door creaked and I quickly put the binder back and relaxed on the bed with a smoke.

"What are you doing?" he asked me as he shut his door.

I answered him by taking the lighter off the egg crate.

"I told you not to smoke in here."

"What the fuck? You smoke at my place."

"That's your place," he whined at me.

"Fuck. Corey's always smoking. Does Corey still think you quit smoking?"

"Shut up. Corey is smoking weed. That doesn't fuckin' count."

"It stinks just as much." I put the cigarette away. "You know, Damien, if he only knew what a smoking hog you are!" I winked at him.

"Go home."

"Wow, you're not going to beg me to spend the night?"

"Fuck, Vivian."

I tossed the pack of smokes on my coat as he relaxed on the bed.

"Vivvy, babe." He placed his hand on my thigh. "Stay."

"I'm going home." I picked up my coat.

"Come on."

"Nope."

"I want you to stay." He grabbed my hand. "Come on. It would be lovely for you to spend the night."

"Right, so you can have your five a.m. fuck?"

"Ah fuck, Vivian, you make life hard."

"Sure do."

I thought of Damien's picture-perfect penis. I couldn't get it out of my head. And with a goodbye kiss, I found out his whole day. I knew his Playstation-addicted friend would be there to let me in and would be too doped up to care what I was doing.

I buzzed number 3F three times. That was Damien and Corey's code. I waited a few minutes knowing that Corey was trying to pause his game. Finally, the buzz came and I walked up the three flights of stairs and down a slim hallway to the last door.

I heard the video game in the distance with Corey's thumbs clicking away, and the heavy weed stunk up the air.

"It's just me Viv," I shouted as I helped myself to a Brooklyn Lager. "Is Damien here yet?" I asked, knowing full well that I had an hour to kill before Damien would be back from work.

"Aw, fuck, shit." The game-master got distracted. "What? No."

The binder was filled with naked girls and Damien was the photographer. I knew that because they either held his dick with their acrylic-tipped fingers or had it between their glossy lips. Each girl was displayed in all her glory, showing off her tits, her shiny ass cheeks, or the nice cut up job of her pussy.

A door slammed shut and my smoke fell to the floor. I almost choked. I put the binder back and the smoke was back in my mouth before Damien opened the door.

I pushed Damien's arm off of me and stared at the binder in the egg crate. The binder was so close I could feel it. I moved my body away from him and his bed squeaked. Damien snatched me close to him again. His snore rumbled in my ear. My eyes flashed back onto the binder. I could take it. My eyes watched Damien as my fingers touched the cool plastic spine.

"Ah."

My head jerked toward him as I held my breath and my heart felt like it was going to jump out. His eyes remained shut as my hand trembled holding onto the spine. He let out a big ripple of a snore as he flopped over on his back. I freaked out and pushed the binder back in the crate.

The grey canvas was bugging me and all I could see were a pair of tits. I picked at my bottom lip as I looked at the door and thought about that binder. I wanted it and I needed it.

I squeezed out a wormy gob of magenta for the background and then I mixed a nude pink and I painted in the fleshy fun bags with brown moon-pie nipples.

I used the same magenta background on the next canvas and painted a dark silhouette of a woman spread-eagle. On the back of the painting I wrote " _American Princess_."

Damien's room was clean and smelled like stale incense mixed with a faint odour of smoke and weed. My eyes fell on the binder and I smiled to myself as I thought how pissed off he was going to be when he opened it and found it empty.

A big crash came from upstairs that shook the smile off my face and almost made me wet my pants. I relaxed when I saw that the door was still closed and Damien's presence was just my imagination. My sweaty hands removed the photographs and I quickly stuffed them into my bag. My finger flinched on Damien's enormous dick picture. With my bloody finger in my mouth, I carefully put the empty binder back into its place.

In my glory, I gave Damien a call at work.

"What?" he shouted into the phone. There was high-pitched laughter and music pounding in the background.

"Damien," I shouted. "Me, Viv."

"Yeah, what do you want?"

"I'm waiting here."

"I'm closing. You come here."

"I'm feeling sleepy. I thought you had tonight off?" I smiled and thought about the photographs.

"I'll see you later."

"I'm going home," I shouted at him as I heard the click.

I walked home with the pictures in my bag banging against me and I was hoping that Damien didn't find it weird that I was too tired to come for my freebies.

At home I decided to have a little party with myself: I sat on the black couch with my drink and good music and I took the pictures out. I really didn't know what I was going to do with them. I mean I didn't need to have nude photos of girls or Damien. I thought I could mail him one photo a day but that was stupid, and I didn't want to give them back.

I woke up with Damien beside me. Yet another night I ended up naked in bed with him. My brain searched for the last memory of the night and all I remembered was resting my head on the couch. My eyes wandered down to his floppy penis and then I remembered the photographs—scattered on the couch.

Unfortunately, my foot stepped onto something squishy, cold, and wet, and I really didn't want to look down and see that it was the used condom. The used condom followed me into the living room.

The room was still bright enough to make my eyes wince shut. I walked up to the couch and the photos weren't there. My head pounded and I panicked. Did Damien find them? No. If he had we probably would have had a fight so that means I put them in a secret spot. I just didn't know where that might be. At least they were safe I told myself as I peeled the condom off the heel of my foot and threw it onto his boxers.

When Damien finally left I searched the apartment for this secret spot. The last place I looked was in the studio closet and there they were in my bag behind some failed paintings that I had also forgot about.

I sat in the studio and stared at the Prussian blue canvas. All I saw was Damien's picturesque cock. I went into the bag and pulled out the picture of Damien's cock and then I decided that I would keep this photo and get rid of the rest of them.

Damien's cock took form in a thick layer of yellow against the dark Prussian blue. On the back of the canvas I wrote the title: " _Golden Nip_." It was perfect and I knew Marlo would love it.

Now I had to deal with the tits and asses in my bag. I raced through the empty streets of Park Slope with the occasional distant cough echoing through the streets or the dispatched sirens orbiting to the New York Methodist Hospital. I walked up to the park and my head twitched a few times because I thought I heard Damien calling my name. My hand grabbed a couple of photos and I crushed them into a McDonald's bag that was lying on top of the trash can. I rushed to the next trash can and did the same thing. With dirty, cut hands I walked home.

The photos were gone and my paintings were done and it was okay. It was good. I sat on the couch with a beer and all I could think about were the photos. I thought maybe there were more of them and then with the beer done my head fell onto the couch's hard canvas pillow and I remembered there had to be negatives.

I never really looked at Damien's room before. I always thought it was a dump because I was always forced to stick my head out the window to have a smoke and all I saw was the massive garbage cans and the old garbage whirling in the alley's little tornado.

The first place I looked was under the bed and all I found was a skateboard and a pair of runners. Next was the closet. His closet was perfectly organized with a few shirts beside a suit that was enclosed in a stiff plastic bag. The floor of his closet was bare and the wood was shiny with only a fluff of old carpet still attached in the far dark corner. Only his black dress shoes were dusty and they sat on a few shoeboxes beside his egg crate closet organizers, which held his socks, boxers, and jeans. I removed the shoes and opened the boxes only to find that they were filled with tools, stuff for his skateboard, and cassette tapes mostly of heavy metal but with the exception of Tiffany smacked between AC/DC and Iron Maiden.

Then I looked above to his rows of folded T-shirts. My hands poked underneath and found a shoebox. It was his photo box and there was a manila envelope that had the negatives. I held them to the light, illuming each nudie shot. I shoved the negatives in my coat pocket and put back the photo box.

Lying on his made bed with a smoke, I thought it was odd that his room was so clean when he was so messy at my place. A knock erupted on his door. I jumped as the ashes fell on my black shirt.

"Yeah, what?"

"No smoking," Corey said through the door.

"Fuck you," I silently mouthed to him as I regarded my smoke. "Oh, okay. I'm just waiting for Damien."

"There's no smoking," he said again.

"Yeah, I'll put it out."

Instead of going home I walked around with my bulging pocket until I found the perfect trash can. I saw it sitting so lonely on the curb. I opened up the lid and it was filled to the brim and the stench made me hold my breath as my hand plunged the envelope in the centre. A couple of paper bags fell onto my feet followed by two milk cartons that clucked onto the road.

## WOLSTON 1993

October

MY AFTER work hours were spent at Alex's place. Occasionally we had his place to ourselves, but most of the time Jeff and Mike were lurking around. Jeff regularly had clients dropping by and Mike kept bringing boxes of liquor that were starting to pile up around the apartment's corners.

One day when we came home Mike was in the kitchen with Jeff, who was meticulously bagging cocaine.

"You bought more?!" Alex practically shouted at them.

"He borrowed more," Mike corrected him. "Don't worry about it."

"I'm going to sell it." Jeff gave us his best bullshit grin as he dangled a little baggy at us. "It's top quality. It's going to sell like hotcakes. Alex, you don't have to worry," Jeff snivelled.

"What are you doing?" Alex asked Mike.

"I'm making sure he sells it."

"Hey, Viv, did you want to try some?" Jeff asked as he gnawed on a glob of pink gum. "The first time is always free." His watery red eye winked at me.

"No," I told him.

"Anyways, guys." Mike grabbed three beers from the fridge. "I need to talk to you two."

Alex flopped on the couch. "I'm not fucking selling."

"I know that. I'm not asking you to, Alex."

"Mike, I'm done. Let's get out of here," Jeff told him as he put on his Chicago Bulls jacket.

"Just a minute. Why don't you two come with us tonight? I've been talking to Neil at Sugar. He's a fucking great guy and he wants you, Alex."

"I don't fucking believe it. When?"

"You're so fucking unbelievable. I do you a favour and you don't fucking believe it."

"When?"

"He hasn't decided yet. But he wants you to DJ on Thursdays. Listen to this: he's starting a whole new line-up and he's trying to make Thursdays a big club thing. Honestly, DJ Twigger on Thursday nights sounds freaking awesome to me."

"Yeah. Okay, Mike. Thanks."

"And to sweeten the deal he wants you to DJ on a Saturday night just to see how it works out."

"Isn't that the biggest night?" I asked Mike.

"Yeah. Neil has got this big club idea. He's hoping to get his Saturday boppers in on Thursdays too."

"How is he going to do that? Saturday is on the weekend," I said.

"I know he's totally crazy, but he does know what he's doing. Like, Ladies Tuesdays is a huge hit."

"Mike, did you get him to do it?" Jeff asked as he stepped out of the washroom.

"Do what?" Alex asked.

"Mike, what's up? You didn't fucking ask him. Like usual I'm doing all the work."

"Jeff, it's your fucking problem."

"Really, Alex?"

"Hey, Jeff, forget it. You two cuties have a good night. Hey, Jeff, let's get going."

Mike and Jeff left and Alex relaxed on the couch.

"What were they going on about?"

He smiled at me. "Jeff's a major screw-up. He owes a lot of money."

"Why are you so worried then?"

"Jeff's my friend." He slapped my thigh. "You've got such beautiful lips." He lightly kissed them.

"Who does he owe the money too?"

"A few people." Alex stood up. "I'm starving, Viv. We should get something to eat. That turkey your mom made was really good."

"What does Mike want you to do?"

"It's just about work, a wedding job. Viv, I made you a new CD." Alex disappeared into his bedroom.
October 18

MY BOSS Kenny McCormack told me before that he looked forward to seeing my paintings. Since today was payday he was coming in and hopefully his wife, Sharon, would come too because she was the one who was in charge of choosing the artists.

"So, Ethan's gone?" Jeanie asked.

"Yeah. He left yesterday."

"Oh, oh, I gotta tell you something."

"First look at these." I handed her the envelope of photos.

She looked through them and her eyes brightened underneath the heavy raccoon makeup. "Oh my God, Vivian, they're beautiful. You're gonna show these to Kenny right? You know I told him all about you."

"Yes, I heard. Thanks."

"They're great. I should come down and see them."

"So, what did you have to tell me?"

"Well, it should be no surprise, but me and Colin are a couple. Since you decided to have a boyfriend and forget all about me."

"I didn't forget about you. I've been painting and Ethan was around. Anyways, Jeanie we work together."

"That's not the same as hanging out."

"Yeah, I know. Now that Ethan's gone..."

"Look, Viv, don't worry about it. I'm not mad." She inspected the espresso machine. "Freak. Susie sucks. She never cleans up. You've noticed that, haven't you?"

I shook my head as I watched her tug at the milk nozzle, trying to get it clean.

"It's so gross. I'm afraid to go into the washrooms."

"Jeanie, just soak it for a bit. It'll come off."

Kenny's thick glasses fogged up when he came into the café. "Hi, girls. How's that paper coming, Jeanie?"

"Torture."

Kenny laughed his big laugh.

"Hi, Vivian." His bearded lips smiled at me as he tied back his patchy grey-brown shoulder length hair into a little knob of a ponytail.

"Here are the pictures of my paintings."

"Wow, that's great. Sharon can't wait. I'm just gonna take a little peek. It's not every day we have an artist working for us." He chuckled. "Wow, colourful stuff." He shook his head. "Great. Vivian, I can't wait to show Sharon this. She has an eye for art you know."

"Thanks, Kenny."

## NEW YORK 2000

October 9

I ACTUALLY cleaned my apartment. I didn't just shove my mess into the closets. I cleaned because Marlo was coming down and it needed it. I couldn't remember the last time I had cleaned.

"Hey, Viv." She gave me a big hug. She smelled sweet like berries. She noticed the clean apartment. "Expecting company?"

"Oh, it needed it."

"You should get a cleaner."

"I don't mind doing it."

"You should look into it. I have one. She does a great job."

"Yeah, maybe."

Marlo smiled because she knew I would just clean it again in another few months.

"Ah, do you have any coffee?" Marlo asked as she walked toward the kitchen.

"You want me to make some?"

"Yeah, only if you're having." She pulled her beautiful maroon locks into a bun.

"You sound like an addict."

"You've caught me. Billy tells me I drink too much. He says that's why I'm tired. You know around this time I'm just a bag of bones. He thinks I need to drink more water. I think I'm just getting old. That's what I get for falling in love with a younger guy who happens to be fit. He's so gorgeous." She leaned against the wall. "Oh, Viv. I hate doing this."

"What?" I asked already knowing that she had a commission because her wording always sounded like she had some bad news.

"I feel like such a pain. Viv, I took a commission. There's no rush. I'm so sorry. I hate doing this. You're gonna kill me?"

"It's okay. I don't mind. I got all my paintings done." I gave her my sparkling smile. "Money's money."

"Good." She winked at me as she eyed the coffee pot.

"So what do they want?"

"It sounds kind of cool, even though you know I hate taking them, but it's guaranteed money for you. Listen to this. They want a lady in camouflage. A camouflaged lady. Can you believe it?"

"Camouflage?" I asked as I took out the milk.

"I know, crazy."

"Any colour?"

"Army green."

I handed her the bag of sugar as I poured the black coffee into the cups.

"Was that like five grains of sugar you take?" Marlo laughed at me.

"How much do you take?"

"Two heaping teaspoons." She smiled gloriously at me as she took a sip. "Ah, that's so good. So, what do you think about painting a camouflage lady?"

I always liked how Marlo would still ask me if I wanted to do the commission. "Good. Maybe I'll paint Xena?"

"I love Xena."

"They've seen my paintings before?"

"Yes, and they love your work. They, you know, had this idea."

"Oh," I said as I thought of Xena on the canvas: big and squished and camouflaged.

"To the studio?"

A smile grew on Marlo's face as she saw the paintings.

"Oh, my God. Oh, God, that's really something. This is fab." She pointed to the _Golden Nip_. "I freaking love it. What's it called?"

" _Golden Nip_."

"Viv, you've done it and I love how it goes with the ladies. It's just so different. Yeah, you've got a show. It's gonna look really good. These are definite hot cakes."

"Thanks."

"I wonder what inspired you?"

"The act of sex."

"Boring? Who's the guy? Does Vivvy have a new boyfriend?"

"Not really."

"You are such a bad liar." Her phone rang. "Aw, shit." She picked up her phone. "Hey, Billy. Yep, I'm just at Vivvy's. Can't wait to show these paintings. I'm thinking maybe you could do a little modeling." Marlo winked at me as I snorted out a laugh. "Don't worry, I'm just kidding. I'll be back probably in two hours. Yep, that's fine. Okay, Billy. Bye." She tossed her phone back into her bag. "So, who is this not-really guy?"

"He's nobody."

She shook her head. "You two should come to the bar sometime."

"Sure."

"I'll hold you to it."

"You want all the paintings?"

"Yeah, I just love the contrast of porn with the ladies. It's creepy and sexy. I might just break down and buy that _Golden Nip_. It's so freakin' awesome. Can you bring them in two weeks? Not this Monday, but the next Monday?"

"Sure. Not this Monday, but the next Monday."

"I'm really impressed by the titles of the porn series. It's the first time you ever had titles."

"I knew someday I'd make you proud."

"You know, you should get golden boy to help you with the paintings."

"Shoot! He's working."

"Shucks!" Marlo grabbed her bag. "Viv, I gotta say this but I think, no, I know this is your best show to date."

"Yeah, thanks," I told her as I lit a smoke. "I enjoyed it." I sucked on the smoke like a lozenge.

"Viv, just to let you know, there's no pressure."

"Okay, Doc."

"You look like I just spit on your paintings. What's up?"

"Nothing. I just had a late night."

"Of painting?" she asked, giving me a wink.

I grinned. "I was painting."

"Sure you were. I think not-really guy was what you were doing."

"No, not really."

"Ha, ha, ha."

"Did you bring me my money?"

"Aw, shit. I forgot your dough. You can stop by the bar anytime, okay?"

"Yep."

"Sorry."

"I'll see you soon."

"Yep, but just in case I'm not there just ask Carlos for the dough."

"Okay."

Marlo left and I stood in the kitchen with the words "best show" pushing in my head. I grabbed a beer from the fridge.
October 13

I ARRIVED a little bit early to meet Damien. I kept buzzing and buzzing and I was shocked that Corey wasn't home. And then I thought the worst. Did he choke on a nacho chip?

"Where's Corey?" I asked Damien as he picked up his skateboard.

"What?"

"Corey's not answering. What happened?"

"Fucking asshole."

"He's home?"

"Yeah. When do you ever see the little prick away?"

"What's his problem?"

"He's gonna fuckin' get it."

At that point I didn't say anything more as I followed Damien into the living room.

"What the fuck?" Corey asked as he sipped on a beer and shoved a few nacho chips into his mouth.

"What the fuck, Corey?"

Corey looked at me as I backed into the hallway because I didn't want to get involved in their fight.

"Why the fuck didn't you let Vivian in?" Damien asked.

"Didn't you give her a key?"

"Fuck you! You're a fuckin' perv'!"

"I told you before, she's the fuckin' one who's been taking your stuff. Ask her why she comes so early." He pointed at me.

"I'm going to kick your fuckin' ass."

"Ask her!"

"You're a fuckin' perv' and I told you before to leave her out. Why would she take my fuckin' stuff?"

"She's a fuckin' dyke!"

"I want my fuckin' stuff back!"

"Sure, Damien. You know I'd fuckin' love to." His dark glossy eyes looked at me. "But the fuckin' dyke has it!"

Damien jumped over the coffee table and onto Corey. They both took punches at each other and then I realized I just did something terribly wrong. Damien was going to move out and he was going to ask me—he's going to move into my place.

"Stop it!" I screamed, but they carried on. "Stop it, you guys! Stop it!" I dug my nails into Damien and he got up and he wiped the blood from his lip and nose. Corey was curled up and wet from the beer he had been holding.

Damien pulled me onto the street. "I could fuckin' kill him! I'm so tired of his fuckin' shit."

"He stole some of your things?"

"Aw, fuck. Can I have a smoke?"

"Sure."

"Aw, fuck! What a total fuck head! You wanna know what he did, that fuckin' little prick?"

"Yeah." I touched his arm letting him know that I was there for him.

"I've been noticing some of my fuckin' shit is missing."

"What stuff?"

"A bunch of stuff." He pulled me aside. "He's been stealing my shit and he won't fuckin' confess to it. And you know what the fuckin' prick did to pass the blame? He told me straight out that you fuckin' took it."

"Took fucking what?" I asked, pretending to get excited.

"Fuck, he's a fuckin' perv'."

"And why is he calling me a dyke? What is he talking about?"

"Because he thinks you took my shit."

"What stuff are you missing?" I asked, wanting to hear him say it.

"Aw, fuck. A lot of different stuff. Anyways, he doesn't fuckin' know what he's talking about. The fuckin' prick hasn't been fucked for fuckin' years."

Their fight lasted longer than I would have liked, and it turned Damien into my unwanted roommate. One day I found my mountain of soiled clothes laundered and folded nice and neat on my bed and soon enough my junk that I had lying around or stacked up on furniture started to disappear and was placed in a junk door. I had to get Damien out of here. I wasn't used to living with anybody and I liked how my place was. It was unkempt but organized. Now it was clean and I couldn't find anything. So I became messier and hoped this would force him to see that I was a lost cause to the idea of neat and tidy.
October 20

I WOKE up and I was nude with the sheet wrapped tightly around me. He was already up so I stretched my legs across the bed and sighed deeply while I squeezed his pillow to death.

"Vivian." He said my name softly as he tickled my foot.

"Leave me alone."

"Vivian, give me a smile."

My eyes flashed open and there was Damien holding a camera with his finger ready to take the picture.

"Fuck off, Damien!" I tried to kick him but he caught my foot. "I don't want to be in one of your photos." The words slipped out of my mouth. I looked over at him and there it was—he glowed. He caught me.

"What photographs, Vivian?" He tugged at the sheets.

"Stop, Damien!" I held onto the sheet and tried to kick him away but he held my ankle tightly.

"What photographs, Vivian?"

"Fuck." I had to think quickly here. "I don't know. Why are you taking pictures? It's the fucking morning."

"You saw them."

"What are you talking about?"

"You fuckin' owe me." He pulled at the blanket. "Come on. Don't you want to be a fuckin' supermodel?"

"Stop!" I shrieked as he tried to pry my fingers from the blanket.

"Come on."

The camera banged against his chest as he caught my flailing arms and pinned my wrists down.

"Please let me go." I squirmed under him.

"Admit to me that you took the photos."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I told him, staring at his blue eyes. "You're hurting me." Then I noticed a ray of sunshine skulking into the corner of the room.

"Good."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do. My lovely collection of photographs. I'm sure you'd love them."

"I don't know because I never saw them."

"Come on." He held my bony wrists. "Vivian, tell me the truth."

"I don't know what you're talking about." I wiggled a bit more and then winced in pain as he rubbed my wrists together.

"The more you move, the more it's gonna hurt." Damien smiled wickedly at me. "I think, Vivian, you got jealous and took the photos. Fuckin' admit it."

"I'm not jealous and I'm not admitting anything because I didn't do it."

"I think you like me very much."

"Come on Damien. I'm tired."

"Let me take a photo of you. That can't hurt you. Why should you be afraid of a photograph? You're not that fuckin' ugly in the morning. All I want you to do is fuckin' smile."

"Smile? That's it?" I asked. "And then you'll leave."

"Yes."

I decided then to just smile.

"Give me a nice smile." He focused the camera on me.

I smiled nicely for him, and he took the photo.

"That wasn't so fuckin' bad was it?"

"Fuck you."

He yanked the blanket from my chest and I plopped onto the floor. "You're never gonna get me!" I shouted at him.

He stood up and placed the camera's cap back on.

"You fuckin' owe me, Vivian. You remember that."

"You're crazy."

He sat on the bed and placed his hand on my head.

"You said you were going to leave," I reminded him.

"It's nice to know that you care."

"Yeah."

"I'm not mad at you. I've got more photos."

"You mean the negatives?"

"No. A bunch more. Sweet fuckin' dreams."
October 21

AT THE busy bar Damien was shaking up some icy drinks for this girl. She was blond and bubbly all over. And then I recognized her from the last time.

"Oh, excuse me," she said as her slushy drink spilled a little on her pink hands.

I kept telling myself I shouldn't care as I knocked back each drink, but I was pretty sure he was fucking her.

"What a fucking asshole!" I said, knowing the place was too loud to hear me. Some guy who looked like a dorky student with his hat backward bumped into me.

"You come here often?" he shouted into my ear.

"Sometimes." I looked over for Damien to come and save me. Instead he was shaking up the blonde's drink and her mouth was wide open with her push-up boobs squished against the bar. I looked back to this stupid college boy and gave him a grin. "Yeah," I sighed. "I really like it here."

"Are you with anybody?" His gummy peppermint breath chilled my skin.

"I'm waiting for my friends. I love this place. It really rocks." I drained my drink to the ice.

"Craig." He held out his hand to me.

"Vivian." I shook his soft hand.

"Let me buy you a drink?"

I smiled with a nod.

My eyes sparkled into Damien's eyes as Craig ordered my drink.

"Thanks. Are you here with your friends?" I asked.

"Yeah. Do you go to NYU?"

"Yeah," I told him, ignoring Damien's glare.

After a few drinks I found myself reluctantly shoved on the dance floor. I stood there feeling all the bumping and grinding around me and my stomach was churning to hurl.

Somehow I found myself being dragged by Damien into an alley. He pushed me against the brick wall and then slapped my leather coat in my face, which made me wobble and fall to the pebbly cement.

"You're fuckin' cut off."

"Yeah?"

"What the fuck are you doing?" he yelled at me.

"Who the fuck are you with?" I stood up.

"Stop fuckin' around, Viv."

"Yeah, Damien, well, fuck you and that blonde! I fucking saw you! Now give me my fucking drink!"

"I didn't do a thing you fuckin' delusional bitch."

"You're the fucking slut."

"I want you outta here."

"One more and I'll go."

"No, you're going home."

"All I need is one and I'll pretend that I never saw that blonde. I'll be a good girlfriend."

He forced me into a cab.

"What's her fucking name?"

"Fuck you, Vivian." He slammed the door.

I had sobered up a bit from the long cab drive and I just needed one more nightcap—something to take away the headache and to stop me from thinking about killing Damien and that blonde.

In the warm smoky pub I was relieved to see Eddie and Carl so that I wouldn't be alone.

"Hey you!" The old man pointed his fat grimy finger at me.

"What?" I asked, smiling at the little old man.

"Hey, you wanna know something?" He scratched his scruffy white beard.

"Sure." I looked at his old browned-blue eyes and up at my crass friend.

"My friend Eddie here."

"Hey, Viv." Eddie gave me a lovely wet smile.

"Yeah, yeah. Listen, Viv, my friend Eddie here wants to know if you think I'm cute."

I laughed. "Yeah, you're cute."

"I told him he was a lady-killer."

"Hey, hey, Viv. What about taking this old man out here?" he asked, looking at me and trying hard to show some youthful twinkle in his dated eyes.

"I think I'll just leave it at cute."

"What are you having?" asked Eddie as his hand touched my shoulder.

"CC and Coke."

"Hey, Carl, move over."

I took the seat between Eddie and Carl and the bartender handed me my drink.

"Thanks."

"My pleasure." Eddie raised his eyebrows.

Carl winked at me. "Salute."

I lit a cigarette and Carl lit an old Marlboro as his thick dentures moved out of the way.

"Where are you from?"

"Canada."

"The Great North, polar bears and Eskimos. Are you from Toronto?"

"No, Wolston. It's right in the centre and above North Dakota. But I've been here for a few years." I didn't want him to think I was a tourist. "This little place has taken more money than I make."

"Mm, isn't that the truth," Carl snorted as his dirty stub of a fingernail flicked his nose.

"Viv, I want to confess something to you," Eddie told me.

"What?"

"You are the only reason I come into this joint alone." Eddie placed his arm around me.

I laughed because these pickup lines were something else.

"Maybe this will be my new time slot? Would that cheer you up and still give you hope in life?"

"You don't know."

"Hey, you two, I've got a joke."

"Carl's always got jokes. I hate jokes."

"That's why you never meet anybody."

"Sure it is, Carl. I think it's more like I sit here and listen to you."

"Ah, get out of here."

"I've met Viv."

"Yeah, yeah. Will you let me tell you this joke?"

Eddie threw up his hands.

"Hey, what do the Dalai Lama and the Pope have in common?"

"I don't know."

"The same hand cream." Carl hissed into laughter, and Eddie and me smiled politely. "Get it?" Carl made the hand masturbation notion.

"Jesus, Carl, there's a lady here."

Carl waved Eddie away. "Now that's a funny joke."

"It's pretty bad. So bad that you were the only one laughing."

"Bad? You wouldn't know if it was good if it smacked you in the face. Eddie, I swear I waste my jokes on you. I give you gold and it goes right over your head. I'm telling you, young people today have no sense of humour."

"Yep Carl, it went right over my head. Whoosh."

"Okay boys, this one is on me," I told them.

"I've been waiting all night for you to say that."

"So Eddie, is that a yes, then?"

"Yeah, baby."

"All right." I ordered the next round.

"Eddie, how is your brother doing?"

"Great. No complaints on his side."

"How's that little wife of his doing?"

"Good."

"Is he your younger brother?" I asked him.

"My older brother, Paul. He owns Prestige Car Service, and I'm one of the drivers." Eddie smiled. "Anyways, they've just had a set of whiny twins. Marla, my brother's wife, is a baby maker. That's her job." He took a big gulp. "You know, my mornings are all taken up, but Viv, my nights are absolutely free for you." He placed his arm around me.

"So, I'll have to take you up on it."

His hand squeezed my shoulder. He breathed his steamy breath on me as he checked out the steadiness of my eyes.

"What about another one?"

"I gotta go to work."

"Come on."

"Next time. Tomorrow," I said already feeling heavy as I stood up.

"Is that a promise?"

"I promise," I told him as he hugged me. "I'll see you tomorrow, Eddie." His hot hands let me go and I could feel the room moving in on me.

"I'll hold you to it."

I managed a grin as I rushed to the front door.

"Hey, Viv!" Eddie shouted.

I turned around to my relentless old man.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

"What?"

"ME!" He shouted. I laughed and enjoyed his efforts of trying to distract me from my impaired state of wanting to fall over and crawl my way home.

The cold outside air rushed inside me and left me perky and sober. Instead of going home I walked to Damien's place—even though it felt like it took the whole night. On his street I noticed Damien was outside holding a cab's door for her—the bouncy blonde. She reached up on her little toes to give him a kiss. The cab sped away and Damien smiled at me as he lit a cigarette.

"Baby, I was just coming to see you."

"Yeah, that's real sweet of you. Was that your cousin?"

"Yeah, you know. Family is always dropping by."

He gave me a gentle kiss on my cheek and I slapped him. He laughed. "I'll walk you home."

He walked me home and all I wanted to do was yell at him. Instead my stomach gave out on me a few times and my feet were starting to hurt.

"You really shouldn't drink so much," he commented as he held me up from the hurling position.

I looked at the idiot who was wearing his hat backwards. "What's your cousin's name?" I mumbled at him as he forced me onto the couch.

My eyes flinched when I saw the yellow water-stained ceiling above me. And then I felt the coarse black fabric of the couch burning my soft buttocks with Damien grunting into my ear.

In the middle of the night I awoke to a crash of people's feet coming down the stairs. I wiped away my drool and I noticed a crack of sun seeping though the bedroom door. Damien was moaning beside me and it sounded like a good dream. I squinted at the clock radio and noticed it was eleven.

Desiree slammed her door and Damien shuttered and pulled me into him as his chin kept my head in place. His hard dick poked at me. I pretended to sleep as he slapped cold jelly between my legs. Then he went right in.

Desiree slammed her door again and that's when Damien rolled off.
After October

FOR A few days I kept away from Damien. The idea of him and the blonde just ate me up. So I was actually happy to paint the commission and it turned out fairly well.

After a few days the phone rang and I knew it was Damien so I let the answering machine get it.

"Hey, Vivian, where've you been? I miss you. We might be getting a gig. I'll tell you later. We're practicing tonight." The machine clicked off. I sat on the couch and listened to the five rings and then Damien's message with the address where he was practicing.

The sound of clashing guitars and drums sounded pretty bad from outside Corey's parents' garage and didn't get any better when I stepped inside. Damien glared at me, and the rest of the band members glared at each other as they gathered up their stuff.

"You sounded pretty good," I lied to Damien as I followed him onto the street.

"I'm glad you enjoyed a couple of seconds. Why did you even bother to come? I mean you were there for thirty seconds. What were you thinking when you decided to come?"

"God, Damien, I just got your message. You didn't say how long you were going to practice for, and I thought when a band practices, it's for all hours into the night. I'm sorry. I thought you said you missed me. I miss you too, you know."

"I'm fuckin' happy that you miss me too."

"You know, I took time out of my personal schedule to come and see you play and the thirty seconds were awesome."

"Your schedule doesn't begin until the night. You don't even paint."

"What? I just finished a show. You wouldn't know that since you've been so busy with your blonde."

"Fuck off."

"I messed up. I need a drink. You wanna get a drink?" I touched his shoulder.

"No. I'm going home."

I stood there—left by myself as I watched him walk away.

The little brick bar O'Connors was cheap and a great place to disappear. The bottom of the barrel regulars drooped over their drinks, and in the back were a group of young men enjoying their bottled bud. The young bartender was engrossed in his newspaper. He looked up and he seemed peeved that he had to serve me.

"What can I get you?" his harsh English accent asked.

"CC and Coke." He stood there looking at me as if I was an alien. "Canadian Club and Coke."

I sat down on a hard booth and listened to the faint sound of something old from the 60s. An old man blabbed on about something and an old lady with long stiff curly hair shushed him and then she pointed at the bartender. He gave her a small grin as he stretched himself out from his newspaper.

"Hey, honey, give me a gin and tonic and what will my boys be having?" she asked. One of her old boyfriends rested his arm across her slumping purple spandex ass.

"Big night?"

"Baby, it's always a big night." She gave him a wink followed by a smoker's laughing cough. "But tonight sweet William is all the way from Florida. His wife's sick. I told you about marrying an older woman. I told you you'd end up all alone. Every time she comes out here she's sick. But again I don't mind for I got my two boys for tonight. Me and Willy go way back."

In the bar's washroom I had to hold the door because the lock had been busted and it stunk badly like something had died between the walls.

On the edge of a blurry dream I heard the last call for drinks. It woke me up, and I lit a cigarette. My glass tumbled with melting ice cubes, and I watched people swirl off their stools. I leaned against the hard wall staring at the rows of liquor.

The bartender came up and I noticed a black spot of a tattoo on his bicep. "Come on."

I thought that was a weird question. "I'll have the same."

"We're closed. Get out."

"I'll have another drink."

"Last call was ten minutes ago."

"You just said it was last call."

"Yeah, that was ten minutes ago. Come on."

He reached for me, and I pulled away.

"I can do it."

"Fine. Time to go."

Outside I sat down against the brick wall and it felt so good to sit there and stare at the dark blue sky.

"You need me to call you a cab?" the Irish sounding bartender asked me.

"Fuck off."

His dark eyes looked me over before he decided to put his arms around me and drag me to my feet.

"Come on." I rested my head on his shoulder. "Move your fucking feet."

I shuffled my feet and he pulled me up the street and up some stairs. He led me through the black room to a soft bed. He turned on a desk lamp and in the corner a black guitar glinted at me. He took off his black T-shirt and a grin crept upon his lips as he lightly gripped my wrist.

"You're pretty." He took off my black top. "You're really pretty."

"I need a smoke." He tossed my coat on the floor.

"Yeah." He grunted at me.

"Fuck you." I smiled at him.

Sex happened fast, and I woke up beside him.

I brushed my teeth with his chewed-up toothbrush and then I tossed it into the dirty toilet bowl. The early morning glow crowded into his room and caressed his beautiful back—then I felt bad about the toothbrush but it would have been cruel to put it back.

When I came home the lights were all on and then I saw Damien's shadow in the kitchen.

"Where were you?" he asked.

"Out."

He picked off the bubbling pink paint from the kitchen wall.

"Out. I like that. You were out."

"I'm tired. Are you gonna stay or what?"

He stood there, breathing heavy as he took a big sip of water.

"I'm going to bed."

Before I could turn around he grabbed me by my hair.

"Where the fuck were you?"

I threw my hands back trying to scratch him, but he squished me against the wall.

"Vivian, I'll fuckin' kill you!"

"I was at a bar and then I met a friend, and I went home with her."

"What's her name?"

"Marlo. Let me go! You're hurting me, Damien!"

He let me go, and I rubbed my sore head.

"Where were you? You were out with your blondie!"

I poured myself a glass of water. "You know, come to think of it, I did a little bit of everything last night. Working, drinking, and fucking." I threw the water glass at him.

His fat hand squeezed my neck. "What are you fuckin' going to do?"

I kneed him and then he punched me hard in the head before he threw me against the floor and my head smashed in to the tiles.

The next morning, I lay there nude in the dark with my head throbbing and my stomach killing me. My hand searched for Damien and I was happy to be grabbing the sheets. With the white sheet trailing behind me, I finally looked at myself in the mirror and my face wasn't so bad—my head pounded where he had beaten me. At least he had thought of my looks.

I walked with the wall supporting me into the kitchen and I looked around—I could sense something was off and the Crown Royal was gone.

Damien and me were no more. I decided that I didn't need a hangover plus bruises and him mooching from me. I locked my door and then I remembered he had an extra key. This wasn't going to be easy. I knew at some point he would drop by and I didn't want to be here when he did.
October 26

MY BODY sagged onto the stiff vinyl booth.

"You're coming?" The nameless bartender asked me.

I looked around the bar and noticed that I was the only one left.

"You made me pay for my drinks."

"It's the cheapest drinks in New York."

I popped a smoke between my teeth as I took out a lighter that Damien had left at my place, which seemed like ages ago. I lit the smoke and stared at the green Bic lighter and then at the bartender who couldn't even buy me a drink for going home with him. I realized how much I missed Damien.

The nameless bartender shined his wicked grin at me as he knocked the lighter out of my hand.

"Where do you think you're going?" he whispered into my ear as his tongue licked my earlobe.

"I need that." I pushed him away to pick it up.

He took my hand. "Baby, you need some cock." He put my hand onto his dick.

"Fuck off." I dug the lighter deep into my pocket as he pushed me inside his apartment.

## WOLSTON 1993

November 5-6

MY MOTHER came into the garage holding the phone.

"Mom, what? I'm busy."

"Vivian, the phone is for you."

"Just take a message."

"I thought you would like to talk to Alex." She handed me the cordless phone.

"Hi, Alex."

"Viv, did you give them the photos?"

"Yeah. He's going to show his wife and he seemed to like them. What's up?"

"You know about Jeff's cousin's wedding, Crystal and Billy?"

"Yeah, Jeff talked about it. You're working at it?"

"Yeah. You should come."

"I can see you after."

"It's a big wedding. It'll be fun, Viv."

"Yeah. What am I going to do? I mean I don't know anybody. Am I going to have to buy them a gift?"

"Jeff and Mike are going to be there. Trust me, it'll be fun."

"What about the gift?"

"No. Vivvy, come on. It'll be fun. I'll be wearing my tux."

"Can I request a song?"

"You can request as many as your heart desires."

"Okay, fine. I'll go."

Jeff was outside the hotel and he was a coked-up jittery mess, but he was dressed in a tuxedo with shiny black shoes and his curly hair was gelled down.

"Fancy, fancy. You like?" He did a twirl in the tux and then I noticed the black pants were rolled up.

"You look spiffy."

"Spiffy." He put his arm around me. "Oh, Viv, I love weddings."

"Where's Alex?"

"You hear that?"

I listened. Past the loud laughter and the clinking of glasses, a faint sound of music came. It sounded like something slow.

"Alex is doing his thing."

"Where's Mike?"

"With April."

"So, are your parents here?"

"My mother's here. This is my mother's family." He bit his thumb.

"You came with your mom?"

Jeff smiled. "No, she doesn't even know I'm here."

A group of bridesmaids rushed into the hall in blushing pink.

"Kirsten?!" Jeff shouted at one of the bridesmaids.

Kirsten took her attention off an old man who held her hand. "Jeff!"

"Hey you!" the old man barked at him.

"What's up, Gramps?"

"This little beauty here. Crystal here..."

"It's Kristen."

"...needs a husband."

Jeff just laughed. "What's this old man going on about?"

Kirsten shook her head.

"I'll punch your lights out."

"Yeah, Pop. I'd like to see you try."

"Jeff, sh." She looked at the old man. "Uncle Ed, please. This is a wedding. And you're scaring everybody," Kirsten reminded him.

"I was just trying to help you out. You've been a bridesmaid a few times."

"Uncle Ed, please. Excuse him. He suffers from dementia. In a few minutes he'll ask me who I am."

"He's related to us?" Jeff looked confusedly at the old man.

"No, he's Billy's uncle. And he won't leave me alone."

"Billy?"

"Jeff, you know the groom, Billy. Crystal is marrying Billy."

"Oh, Billy."

The old man looked at him. "Are you on the bride's side?"

"Yep."

"Crystal is sure pretty."

"Jeff, can you help me bring Uncle Ed back to his table?"

"I'm not lost."

"I know that."

"He's a fucking pain," Jeff commented.

"What's that?" he asked Jeff.

"Please, Jeff, will you help me?" Kirsten pleaded with Jeff as she tugged at Uncle Ed's elbow.

"Come on, you old fart." Jeff took his elbow.

"I can walk without you!"

"His name is Ed, Jeff." Then Kristen waved her hands to a tall man with thick dark sideburns that led up to his sleek black hair. "Jed!" she yelled. "Jed!"

He walked over taking his hands out of his pockets. "Jeff, I'm just waiting for your mother."

"Jed, could you help me please?"

"Who's this? Your boyfriend?" The old man gawked at Jed.

"No, Uncle Ed, this is Jed."

"Hi, Ed. You want to get a beer?"

"Okay. I wouldn't mind wetting my whistle."

"Jed is my mother's boyfriend," Jeff informed me. "I need a drink."

The dance floor was filled with people screaming "Stayin' Alive" and pointing at the roof.

"Hey waiter!" Jeff shouted. "Thank you," Jeff said as he took two glasses of champagne. "Take two."

"Thanks." I took a little sip. Alex was in the centre in his black and white tuxedo talking to a groomsman.

"Oh, fuck me." Jeff hid his face. "My mother," he mumbled.

"Jeff, where are you?" her harsh voice asked as her two hands fell on his shoulders. "You can't hide from me. Where's Mike? And who's this?" She felt her short spiky blond hair and then she tugged at her diamond stud earring as she handed me her gold-fingered hand.

"Vivian," I told her.

"Vivian, Sally. Jeff's beloved mother. I've never seen a boy so happy to see his mother and so stupid when he owes his mother money to be coming here." She punched him in the shoulder. "You've got a kiss for your mother?"

Jeff kissed his mother's cheek. "Mom, I've missed you."

"That doesn't get you off the hook. Vivian, this handsome stranger is Jed. Jed, this is Jeff's girlfriend, Vivian."

"No, Alex is my boyfriend."

"Disappointed but not surprised. Jeffery always goes for peroxide chicks and the last one he had was an oriental with peroxide hair. She giggled at everything I said. She made me feel like I was a freaking Muppet."

"Thai, Mom. She was from Thailand."

"Jed, dear, do you mind getting me a gin? Vivian, do you want anything?"

"Rum and coke."

"I'll take a beer," Jeff volunteered.

"Jed is not your slave."

"Oh fuck, Mom."

"Jeff, where's my money?"

"You'll get it soon."

"Are you still snorting?" Her red hand pinched his face.

"Fuck, no, I've been clean."

"You're grumpy as fuck, I can believe it. But it's time to pay me back. I don't like doing this, you're my son."

"Then don't."

"I should've listened to Jed."

"Fuck Jed. It's none of Jed's fucking business."

"Yeah, he's always been there for you. Unlike your father, who was a bum. Have you talked much to him?" Her flaky mascara eyes opened wide.

"Mom, I'll give it to you at the end of the month."

"Okay. You come down for dinner and I'll make your favourite. Okay, Jeffie?" She gave him a big kiss. "You're still my little baby boy."

"Yeah, okay."

"I mean it."

"Yeah, Mom. I promise you."

"Don't promise me. Just do it. Thanks, Jed. That Alex is doing a terrific job."

"It's too bad you missed the wedding," Jed told Jeff.

"I was working, couldn't do much about it."

"Your mother cried," Jed said.

"Weddings always make me cry."

"I got to get a drink."

"You do that," his mother said.

I followed Jeff to the bar and Mike grabbed us both.

"Jeff, are you feeling all right? He's fucking whiter than a ghost." Mike looked at me.

"He was talking with his mother."

Mike laughed. "I love Sally. You, you are so bad, borrowing money from your mother. I told you not to do that." Mike put his arms around us. "I want you two to follow me. Don't ask, just follow if you know what's good for you. Did you see April?" asked Mike.

"Na, I talked to Kirsten."

"April looks freaking good. She makes me hungry just thinking about her." He licked his fingers.

"There is something really fucking wrong with you," I told Mike.

"Babe, I'm a gentleman at heart." Mike gave me a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

"You're fucking gross." I rubbed my cheek dry.

"Wasn't she engaged?"

"She was engaged and that is in the past." Mike chewed on his gum hard as the elevator made a slow incline to number fourteen.

"What are you smiling about?" Jeff asked.

Mike waved a keycard. "She gave it to me for safe keeping."

"Mike, don't go breaking her heart."

"Jeff, I'd do no such thing. What do you take me for, a monster?"

"Worse," I told him.

He exploded with laughter.

"Don't fuck around with her."

"You're so fucking serious. Chill out. We're here." He flashed his eyebrows at us. "The view is by no means that bad."

"I think I fucking dropped it." Jeff fidgeted with his suit pockets.

"Maybe a bridesmaid took it. Now, shut it." Mike opened the door. "Honey, I'm home!"

April came out of the washroom fixing her tight spaghetti straps.

"Ah, you kill me. You are freaking gorgeous." He kissed her and she smiled.

"Hi, April. Are you still seeing this asshole?"

"Shut it." Mike reached into his pocket and pulled out a little baggy that he tossed at Jeff. "Make yourself useful, eh."

"That's where it went. Fuck, I thought I lost it."

"It was Mike's idea."

Mike laughed and Jeff gave him the middle finger.

"April, I want you to meet Alex's girlfriend, Vivian."

She rubbed off a glitter-gloss glob from Mike's chin.

"Wow, Alex got himself a girlfriend. That's the first. There are drinks in the bar. Don't be shy."

"Yeah, go for it." Mike nudged his lips onto April's throat.

Jeff snorted. "Viv." He passed me a rolled blue five-dollar bill. "It's gonna be a long night, babe."

I took the blue roll and snorted up the first line. My head fell back as my nose itched against the white powder.

"I always get these crazy ideas," he told me as he snorted up some more. "Have a smoke. It'll ease the jitters." He smiled. "Fuck me. The drip is always nice."

"The drip?"

"Give it a second. The drip at the back of your throat. Meth just doesn't have it."

"You're such a fucking druggy whore," April told him.

"Well, I've got taste. I don't want to be a slave to meth."

"You started again?" April's eyebrows met into a fury.

"I don't think he ever quit, April." Mike frowned.

"I did too. What was it, about a year ago?" He looked at April.

"Yeah, God, that was a horrible time. I was so fucking messed up, Mike. I wasn't thinking right."

"Baby, it's all over." He kissed her hand. "You're doing fine. You're a diamond."

"Mike, you're so sweet."

Jeff shook his head at the kissing couple.

"Don't miss Ted's toast," April reminded us.

"Who the fuck is Ted?"

"The best man," April shouted at him before the door clicked shut.

"Yeah, yeah. They are messed up. April and Mike doomsday three. You felt the drip yet?"

"Yeah," I told him as the second one oozed down my dry throat and made me shiver. "What did you want?" I took out a little bottle of champagne from the fridge.

"Gimme a beer. Viv, you know, I get these ideas for music. You know like taking 'YMCA,' which is a crazy song in itself, and just shaking it up. Or like 'Lady in Red' would be perfect."

"Like a remix?"

"Yeah, like a fucking remix. You know, I tell Alex. I tell Alex my ideas. Like 'YMCA' and mixing it up with a hard rock beat. You know, something completely different. Like 'Teen Spirit' meets 'YMCA'."

"What does he say to you?"

"You know Alex. He tells me why don't I do it. I would fucking do it, I tell him, but I don't have the skills or his crazy Mozart talent. You should talk to him. If he fucking hears it from you, he'll do it. Peer pressure is freaking fantastic. That's why Mike is so successful."

I sucked hard on the smoke.

"Viv, you're so silent. It's freaking me out."

"I was thinking."

"You're fine?"

"Yeah, I'm fantastic." I winked at him. "So what's up with Mike and April?"

"Seriously, you don't want to know."

"Mike seems to really like her."

"Yeah, that's the problem. She wants Mike for eternity. They broke up last time because he wouldn't get a tattoo of her name and then she said she needed a break and then she got engaged to some car dealer. She's fucking nuts. The problem is that Mike always goes back with her. It's crazy. They're like a fucking drug for each other. Viv, it's fucking crazy, I know. At least I know I'm a druggie, and hey, I'm not afraid to admit it, you know."

"Yeah, that's true." I dazed out at the dizzy city-light view. And from fourteen floors it looked so vulnerable under the blustery snow. The brown river that cut through the city was white and thick like an ice cream cake. It was hard to believe that there was a dirty river beneath the clean snow.

"I'm so dead. Seriously, there won't be any Jeff left once Uncle Earl gets my balls."

"What's with Uncle Earl?"

"Mike and I owe a fair bit of money to him and so does Alex. Uncle Earl's the big guy and he's the biggest prick. That's why I don't work with him anymore. He's just upset that I found someone else who gives me really good shit for an incredible price. It is true that there is good money in this. But like, fuck me, I'm a user, a junkie. I wish I was like Alex. Then I would be living like a freaking king. But the problem with Alex is, he doesn't want any part in it. He's hooked on becoming the number one DJ in the universe. It's a nice dream and he's totally fucking talented, you know, but it doesn't fucking pay and who knows when it's gonna happen. I mean, there are a lot of good DJs out there, and I tell him that. I'm not trying to be mean, but it's the truth."

"Yeah, I guess. What did you want to be?"

"You know, I'm me, and that's what I'm going to be. You know, Viv? I'm happy. If there was a job where I could just think up ideas all the time, I would be the fucking man." He laughed. "There was this one chick I was dating and she was messed up, really messed up, but a pretty girl, and my heart went out to her. She told me that I should become a shrink. Could you see me doing that? Fuck, I'd be prescribing myself drugs all the time." He rubbed his nose. "Viv, I did try to go to school. About two years ago I thought about becoming a nurse."

"A nurse? You wanted to be Nurse Jeff?"

"Nurse Cox. It pays well and there's a great retirement plan. I even own a pair of scrubs."

"That's fucking hilarious."

"I'm not lying. I tried really hard, studied, went to classes, and I sucked. I feel like a joker in the court. You know, the king's pet."

"Court jester."

"Yeah, that's it. Like life's a bowl of cherries but in my case it's a bowl of pits."

Mike and April were dancing, which seemed more like they were making out.

Then the song was scratched to silence. "Hello. It's Ted. The best man." He felt his small Mohawk. "Sh, everybody! Where's Kirsten? Kirsten, get up here." Kirsten stood beside him in her pink tulle dress with her lips painted black.

"I've known Billy for most of my life. We played soccer together, went to school together, skipped school to go to the arcades. But the time of our life was when we decided to form a punk band, Spit. Billy was mean on the drums and when he decided to leave to go back to school, I couldn't believe it, so I followed him. I let my Mohawk grow out and I became a music teacher to snotty high school students. Now he's decided to get married. He met Crystal, a beautiful woman. Standing beside me is her sister Kirsten, who I must say is a punk goddess. I mean look at her in this pink puff and black lipstick. God, she looks good. Pretty in pink." He touched the skirt of her dress.

She grabbed the microphone. "Hi. A toast to the bride who I'm proud to say is my lovely sister Crystal and the groom Billy." They raised their glasses.

"A toast to old times and new times. Cheers." They tapped their glasses together and everybody followed.

"What about a kiss from the newlyweds?" Kirsten asked as everyone started to clink glasses, and before she knew it the best man dipped her for a kiss. No one knew which way to look: at the best man smooching Kirsten or at the bride and groom.

After the bride and groom's kiss was over everybody gawked at the best man, who finally stopped kissing Kirsten. Kirsten wiped the black lipstick from his lips.

"Crystal and Billy, we wanted to dedicate this song to you guys. Rock on!" Ted shouted.

"Hit it DJ!" Kirsten yelled.

"Rock the Casbah" played and everyone jumped all over the place. I got a glass of champagne followed by a few shots, and I got Alex a beer.

"Thanks, babe. You look freaking gorgeous." He touched one of my stiff curls. "Ugh."

Billy idol's voice cracked through with "White Wedding."

"So, when are you done?"

"I'm hoping soon."

"You should play something really bad. You know, totally kill the mood."

"Yeah, that's the DJ's trick. Look through this." He passed me the binder.

"Billy Joel?"

"That won't kill it."

"Whoever requests 'Uptown Girl'?"

"He plays the piano."

"You're freaking me out. You mean to tell me you'd listen to 'Uptown Girl' on repeat."

"It's a catchy hit."

"Oh my God. Kill me now."

"I know what I'm going to do." He winked at me.

"White Wedding" faded into the bass guitar of the Tragically Hip's "Little Bones" and the dance floor exploded with everyone shouting out the song like it was the national anthem.

"What song did you pick?"

"A good one."

"What is it?"

Alex smiled as the Hip song faded into Barry Manilow's "Copacabana" and everybody booed.

"It was requested!" Alex shouted back at the booing crowd. "Last call for the bar!"

The dancers swarmed the bar and the red and white balloons slumped onto the abandoned dance floor.
November 8

SHARON SMILED at Jeanie and then me as she pulled off her wooly mammoth mittens to straighten out her blond curtain-thick bangs.

"Girls, how are you two?"

"Good," Jeanie volunteered. "The nights seem to be a bit more busy."

"It feels like Christmas shopping around here starts earlier and earlier like our winters." She eyed the dessert case.

"Would you like something?"

"I'm so tempted. I'll take a latte with skim milk and I want that muffin." Her finger pointed to a big sugar-crusty lemon muffin. "To go, please." She opened up her big purse. "Vivian, please don't go away."

Jeanie started to make the latte as I passed the muffin to Sharon. "Vivian, thank you, and I need to talk to you," she told me as she searched her bag. "Oh, gosh. It's about your paintings. Oh, here they are! Let me give you those back." She handed me the photos.

"Vivian, thank you for showing me your work. It's really nice, I love it in fact, but right now I'm looking for more work like Lynn Beesack. She does a lot of colourful lines and splatters. Her new series is working with shapes."

"Abstract."

"Yes, more abstract paintings. We've already sold all of her paintings and customers really seem to respond to her work. But I want you to know you are so talented that I'm positive you will find a home for your art." She smiled as she picked at the muffin.

Jeanie passed her the latte.

"Remember to keep up the good work." She gave us a wink. "Girls, I'm off again. Keep busy."

"Bye, Sharon," Jeanie said as she watched her leave. "So, what did she say about your paintings?"

"She's looking for more abstract paintings."

"Abstract?"

"Like Beesuck's."

Jeanie smiled. "Beesack."

"But she liked my work," I told her. "She thinks I'm talented."

"That's good. A good rejection. It's a total start."

"Yep. It's a start."

After dinner I quickly cleaned up the kitchen because I didn't want my mother asking me about Sharon.

"Is that it?"

"I'm just putting the leftovers away. You got a date with Alex tonight?"

"No. I just want to get this done. I'm tired."

"You're feeling sick?"

"Nope."

"Did you hear from Sharon?" my mother asked, filling the dirty pots with hot water.

"Yeah," I breathed out. "She came in today."

"Oh, what did she say?"

"She liked the work, but she wants abstract or something. You know, something that doesn't look like a painting."

"Oh. Oh well, you're gonna have to try other places. I'm sure you'll get in someplace. You just got to keep trying, Vivvy," my mother said. "A rejection should just make you stronger." She squeezed my arm.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Because it teaches you to fight and to believe in yourself. For example, when I'm casting for the school play, I know that next year the ones I rejected will sometimes come back and they will make the lead because they worked twice as hard. It's a learning experience, and you're still young. If you went to school..."

"Oh God, Mom, please. That's enough. I'll keep trying. Anyways, Sharon doesn't even know much about art. She didn't even know what abstract art is."

"Vivian, you should consider going to school. It will make you grow as an artist."

"Mom, please. You're gonna make me scream."

"I don't understand why you don't want to go to university. Jeanie is going to university and Ethan did."

"I just don't want to go. Twelve years of school was enough for me. All I want to do is paint and that's how I'll get better."

"You would meet other people there who just want to paint too. Vivian, I'm not making this up."

I clunked the dishes into the dishwasher.

"Vivian, be careful. Don't break them."

In the centre of the grimy garage-studio I looked at my paintings and then I remembered my brother used to stash his liquor in here.

Behind an old box of glasses and a box of moldy paperback books there was my brother's old liquor and a half a pack of cigarettes in a baggy. I shoved open the garage door and it opened onto the snowy backyard.

The dead snowy garden shimmered underneath the streetlight. The one tree, black and hard, stood against the snow. Its skinny branches barely held the fluffy snow.

The whiskey smelled strong and I breathed in the thick frigid air and breathed out on a stale smoke that was hurting my throat.

The night sky was a gush of Prussian blue and the foreground was a mound of thick snow and then I painted the black bony-like branches of the dead tree. On top of the smooth branches was the curdling snow.

The two paintings I finished weren't bad. They were so easy to paint—it was like my hands knew what to do. At this point I kept on painting, each canvas possessed by the barren tree, and I was also trying hard to avoid painting the last painting because I was afraid that familiar image would be lost in a wasteland of paint. It was like in high school when I did a series of Winona Ryder paintings—the very last painting I did of her, her face had disappeared, even her dark eyes that I thought I knew so well became a gooey mess on the canvas.
November 15-16

AFTER A week my studio resembled a snowy forest—twelve paintings. Number thirteen canvas was already primed and ready with a layer of burnt sienna. I squeezed out the Prussian blue and I stood back chewing on the paintbrush's tip until it broke.

There was a knock. "I'm busy!" I shouted at my mom, whom I knew would come inside making sure I was warm and that the fumes weren't too strong. I squeezed out a worm of black paint.

Then I heard the door crack open.

"I'm fine, Mom!" I told her without even turning to look at her.

"Well, dear!" A man's voice shrieked.

I turned around and it was Alex.

"So this is where you've been."

"Alex." I smiled. I felt a wave of guilt because I hadn't called him back.

"Wow, you've been busy." His scruffy wet runners shuffled against the cement floor as he looked at each painting.

"Yeah, I'm swamped." I glanced at the old paint splatter on the floor. "I'm sorry I didn't call."

"You should have called."

"I'm sorry. You could have come by the café. I was at work too."

"Just call me," he told me as he looked at the paintings. "What happened to the ladies?"

"I still got them."

"No, why aren't you painting them anymore?"

"I needed a break."

"You wanna get a drink?"

"Yeah." I hugged him and his hands stayed in his pockets.

"Didn't you get my message?" He pushed me off.

"Jeez, Alex, it was only a week. Not even that."

"Let's go."

I sank into the booth as Alex plopped a pitcher of dark, dark beer on the table.

"What's that?"

"Guinness. It's good for you." He poured me a glass. "Drink it."

I took a sip and my taste buds recoiled from the bitter taste. "It's bitter."

"It's better, I know. Once we're done with the pitcher you'll be wanting more." He grinned.

"We'll see about that," I told him. "We should just go to your place. You've got a bar stock of liquor."

"We sold it."

"Really?"

"Yep, so now we're back to scrounging." Alex sat back and I could tell that he was still mad at me.

My eyes fell on my grumpy Alex. He looked the same as when I met him: hunched over his coffee and miserable. But this time he thumbed the wet glass of a Guinness.

"I've missed you." I touched his neck. "The Guinness is nice," I lied to him and he looked over not believing me. I kissed his slender soft cheek. "I've really missed you."

"Yeah."

"Oh, Alex, I'm so sorry." I kissed his cheek again wanting to kiss his big lips as they sucked hard on a smoke.

He brought me close to him. "Darling, that's not gonna be good enough. You almost broke my heart. You know, I'm the sentimental type." His blue eyes sulked like a puppy wanting a treat.

My fingers tugged at his gold chain. "How did you want me to make it up to you?"

"Spend the night with me."

"That's it? You know this is the only chance you get to tell me what you want?"

"I got an idea, darling." He shushed my lips. "You don't have to worry about that."

I kissed his thick finger. "So did you pay off your uncle with all that booze money?"

"Almost."

"What happened with your car?"

"What car?" He looked at me as if I was a crazy person.

"Don't you remember when you first met me, you said your car was getting fixed."

"Oh yeah, my old car. I sold it a while back."

"I'm sure you did. How's Jeff?"

"He's a work in progress." He poured the rest of the Guinness in his glass. "Are you showing your work at the café?"

"No. She didn't want it."

"Are you painting those trees for Sharon?"

"No. She's looking for something else completely."

"The trees have a real depressing feel to them. They're like a sad fairytale."

"That sounds pretty."

"I like it." He finished his drink and then drank the rest of mine. "Let's get out of here."

"Okay."

The next day I woke up with a pounding headache and I was supposed to be at work already. So I called work and told Jeanie I was sick.

"Okay," she said softly. "Get better. I'll talk to you later."

I rolled over onto my back as Alex lit a joint.

"I need a coffee," I moaned at him.

"It's in the kitchen."

I tried to pluck a hair off his chest.

"Fuck, that hurts."

"Get me a coffee."

"You can be nice about it."

"Please." I rolled my eyes at him.

"You want?" He handed me a joint.

"Nope."

"It would chill you out," he told me as he put a shirt on. "Coffee, please, now." I crushed his pillow over my head.

## NEW YORK 2000

October 28

"MARLO!" I shouted into the empty bar.

"Viv, I'll be right there!" Marlo screamed from somewhere in the back.

"Hey, Viv."

I turned around to Billy, Marlo's boy toy. He was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. "Hey, Billy."

"Marlo told me about your new paintings. Marlo, put the lights on." Billy was the kind of bartender whose bar was filled with females and of course his entourage of male fans. And Marlo knew she was lucky to have him all to herself, and she was thrilled that it was his idea to move in with her.

The lights flickered on and he came around the bar to see the paintings that I lined up.

"That's the _Golden Nip_."

"I love it!" screamed Marlo.

"Viv, she loves that painting."

"I had an idea, Viv and Billy."

"What?" I asked, hating the word "idea" coming from her glittery lips.

"I think Billy should be the _Golden Nip_."

"What?"

"Don't look at me as if I'm crazy. Billy, the ladies are going to be thinking that it is Billy—so I thought we should call it Billy."

"Marlo, no way. The _Golden Nip_ should be the title."

"Yeah, Marlo. I agree with Billy that we should leave the title alone. Anyways, you know Billy is still going to get all the attention and with this, the ladies will think what they want to."

"All right, all right. Bad idea."

"Yes," we both said again.
October 29

AT HOME I enjoyed my cans of Guinness and listened to the party noises next door as I forgot about Damien. Desiree's weed was starting to seep through and the walls were trembling from the blasting hip-hop beats. Somebody pounded on her door and then I heard it again followed by the knocker shouting out for "D!"

I peeked through the peephole and there was Dean Snyder, who lived on the floor above me. He was always carrying crates of records up the stairs. But today he waited outside Desiree's door only wearing Adidas track pants and holding a plate of butter.

"You wanted butter?" he asked. "What are you cooking?"

He disappeared into Desiree's place and I stood there and waited until he came out, which was about ten minutes.

I turned on the TV and _Star Trek_ was just ending. I smiled and remembered how Damien hated how I talked through the show. I drank the rest of the can of beer and thought about heading all the way up to that trashy bar because I could feel myself falling for Damien. Instead I fingered another Guinness from the fridge and sat on the kitchen floor listening to Desiree's beats as the rain outside pummeled the fire escape.

Unfortunately for Desiree, her boyfriend was back. I could hear that her place was getting trashed followed by a few shouts and slamming doors. A few times she threatened to call the cops, and then I heard another crash and the sound of scrambling as he dragged her to the bedroom and raped her. She screamed for somebody to call the cops.

There was a knock at my door. I thought it was the cops so I assumed they would try Desiree's door. They knocked again and then I heard the turning key and I knew it was Damien. He walked around the apartment hesitantly and then he peeked into the kitchen.

"Hey." He took off his wet Boston's cap.

"Hi," I said, looking down at my feet.

He wiped his wet face on his black hoodie. "How are you?"

I looked up at him and then down at his soaked runners.

"All right. What about you?" I finally stared into his eyes.

"Okay." He gave me a small smile. "You look good."

"Yeah, thanks. What do you want?"

"Vivian, I'm sorry. I'm sorry about everything."

I wanted to say, "Like what?" but I couldn't. When I looked at him, I could feel my jagged words turning into jelly. "You mean it?"

He nodded.

"You won't do it again? You and that blonde are over?"

"It's over. It's nothing." He shook his head. "I want you." He made me feel so small—like a drop of putty. "Vivian?"

I glared at my feet.

"I missed you." He put his two hands on the counter beside me so that I had no place to go.

"You're a dick," my pouty lips reminded him as I played with his belt buckle.
November 3

LOCO WAS busy, and Damien and I bumped through the crowd together. He hit me in the shoulder. "Your paintings are good."

I smiled and wondered if he recognized the _Golden Nip_.

"Is Marlo here?" I asked the bartender.

"She's in the back."

"Come on." I led him to Marlo's office.

She was wearing her bifocals but she still squinted at the numbers.

"Marlo, this is Damien."

"Hi, it's great to finally meet you. Viv has told me so much about you." She took out a cigarette.

"I thought you quit?"

"I did, and when Billy's here I'm a good girl. Damien, what do you think of Vivian's paintings?"

"Rad."

Her eyebrows rose. "Did you show him the _Golden Nip_? That's my fave." She scrunched up her nose as the glitter around her eyes sparkled.

"The golden penis?"

"That's right, the big one." Marlo laughed.

"Oh, God."

"Sorry, it still gives me goosebumps. Are you guys going to stick around?"

"Yeah."

"Good. I've just got to finish this up and I'll join you two for a drink. Just tell Lisa to put it on the Queen's tab."

We went back out to the busy bar and Damien noticed the _Golden Nip_. "Whose cock is that?" Damien shouted into my ear. "You owe me." He gave my tit a pinch.

## WOLSTON 1993

November 21

THE PHONE was ringing and ringing and I could feel a mumbled shout of "Mom" passing through my lips and then Axl Rose's cry woke me up.

My feet shoved off the covers and my nose was stuffed. I looked over at the clock radio and I had overslept by an hour, but it felt like I just went to bed. The phone rang again.

"Hello?"

"Viv. Viv," Jeanie frantically repeated my name.

"Yeah, Jeanie. It's me."

"You work today, like now," Jeanie said. "Are you okay? Are you still sick?"

"I'm coming," I coughed.

"Hurry up. What's up with you?"

She hung up before I could explain.

I fixed my day old sex-matted hair into a bun and then I picked up my dirty work clothes from the floor. I finally looked at my face and yesterday's makeup was still on, and it wasn't that bad.

When I got to work, Jeanie was at the cash register and she looked pissed.

I quickly stood by the espresso machine as she passed me the orders. After the morning rush was under control, I cleaned up the mess.

"What's with you?" Jeanie asked as she straightened out her apron.

"I'm sorry, Jeanie. I think I got the flu or something. I didn't hear the alarm clock."

"Yeah." She took a long sip of water. "I totally got slammed. What's up with you? Where have you been? Are you doing drugs?"

"I've—"

"Went to outer space? Mars maybe?"

"I've been working, painting."

"Yeah, I called you yesterday, and your mom said you were out."

"I got the message. I was out getting—"

"Look, the girls washroom needs toilet paper. Do you think you can do that?" she asked as she turned to another customer.

I restocked both washrooms with toilet paper and paper towels. When I got back she gave the customers their beverages.

"How did your exams go?"

"Fine," she said without turning her head to me.

"I'm so sorry, Jeanie."

She turned around. "Next time call. I haven't been seeing you or talking to you. You're either busy with Alex or you're painting."

"Look, Jeanie, I'm sorry."

"You look like you have a total hangover."

"I told you, I'm sick."

"Okay, Viv."

"Jeanie?"

"Forget it." Jeanie bit her chapped lips. "Next weekend we should have a girls' night out."

"Yeah, okay."

She smiled.

There was only fifteen minutes left until closing time and then the horrid little bell tinkled. "Fuck." I scrubbed harder at the espresso's nozzle trying to get the crusty milk off and when I turned around I found Darren looking right at me.

"Daddy, I want a cookie." I looked at his son with the blond bowl haircut.

"I promised you a hot chocolate." Darren grabbed his son's hand.

"Cookie too, please."

I stared at his son and thought "he left me for that?" as I dunked the crusty nozzle into hot water.

He smiled at me like he used to. "Vivian, you look great."

"What would you like?" Of all the days he comes in, I look like crap.

"A large coffee, a small hot chocolate, and one cookie."

"To go?"

"Yeah."

I swirled the hot chocolate mix and the boiling water together and then I put a cookie in a bag.

"How are you doing?"

"Fine. Does he want marshmallows?"

"Sure."

He gave his son the cookie and ushered him to sit at a table.

I set the hot chocolate and coffee down. "That's it?" I asked, staring into his blue eyes. He cracked a grin that I knew too well. He was trying to warm me up, but I wouldn't let it happen. I wasn't going to be his schoolgirl.

"Yeah, that's it. It's not that busy here. What time do you guys close at?"

"That'll be five ten." I looked at my watch. "We're closing in about five minutes. On Sundays we close earlier."

He handed me six dollars.

"I wanna talk to you."

"What about?" I gave him the change, and he dumped it into the tip jar.

"I need a smoke." His eyes rested on me.

"What about your son?"

"He'll be fine."

I flipped the sign from open to closed and locked the door.

"Follow me," I told him.

He followed me to the back of the building's dingy alleyway. I leaned on the brick wall. He held out his pack and I took one.

"How have you been?"

I blew out a cloud of smoke. "Fine. How's your married life?" I kicked the dirty snow.

"The same. My son Derek is really happy."

"Great. How's your wife?"

He looked at me. "I miss you."

His words caught me off guard. All my feelings for him that I had shoved away came flooding back. It was like I was still trapped in his car when he dumped me.

"Viv, you know, I still think of you." He stepped carefully toward me, and I couldn't move. He flicked his cigarette away. "I'll never forget you. I remember the first time I saw you, you were in class. You remember?"

"Yeah." I swallowed hard. The feeling of him, of him and me, I couldn't take it.

"Viv?" His finger lifted my chin, and my eyes glared at the brick wall behind him. "Do you miss me?"

I stopped myself from trembling. "I think you know." I wanted him to kiss me, his lips were so close and his breath was so hot. My fingers dropped the burning cigarette.

"I found your gift."

"The bra?"

He grinned. "Are you seeing anybody?"

I shook my head. "No." I smiled at him, wanting a kiss and then the words, I couldn't control the words that slipped out, "Did you want to get back together?"

The kiss, his kiss disappeared, and his eyes wandered from me to the brick wall behind me. "I can't." He let me go.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you think I mean? I'm married."

"Right. I know you just love her."

"I'm trying."

"And what are you trying with me?" I thought of Alex and I looked—really looked—at Darren. He was ugly compared to Alex. What was I doing?

"Vivian?"

"Forget it." I held onto the door. "Don't ever come back to me, Darren," I said to the door because I couldn't lie to his face.

He grabbed me like he always had and kissed me. It felt good.

"Remember," he whispered in my ear. "I'll always love you." He kissed me again and I pulled away, pulled away to open the door to finish my shift.

Through the glass door I saw Alex outside making funny faces at Derek.

"Vivvy." Alex kissed me. "Where were you?"

"I was having a smoke with a friend."

Darren came up with his coffee and his kid.

"Thanks," Darren said as he left.

## NEW YORK 2000

November 4-6

COREY WAS visiting his grandparents in Florida for the whole weekend to beg for money because he couldn't hold a job. So that weekend Damien and I went on vacation in his apartment.

"Hey, Beautiful," Damien shouted at me from his doorway with a smoke hanging from his lips. "You brought your bathing suit?"

"Yeah, sure. My polka dot bikini." I picked a big potato chip crumb off his shirt and ate it. "You started without me."

"You know, baby, you make it hard for me." He dry humped me.

I pushed him away. "First, I need a drink."

He handed me a beer and lit my smoke then he got a joint ready. He picked the little weed strays away from his tongue.

"How much of that have you had?"

"A little." He grinned. "This is some good shit."

I took a puff and then I coughed it out.

"You sewer mouthed it."

"No, I didn't."

"You see this." He showed me the joint.

I rolled my eyes and had a smoke instead.

"You see how it's like mush. You're a sewer mouth."

"Fuck off. I'll show you what you look like when you smoke." I took a puff and did a big frown. "You make the funniest faces when you smoke."

He laughed. "You're fuckin' crazy."

I slumped onto the couch feeling lightheaded and hungry. My hand dipped into the plastic bowl of chips and found it empty.

"Damien, more chips!" I yelled at him, feeling my voice echo through my head. I quickly took a big sip and lit a cigarette to shut myself up. I flashed my eyes on the TV and it was on some sort of obnoxious cartoon. He laughed at the bloody cartoon character as he struggled to open the chip bag and then the room exploded with salty chips.

"There you go." He tossed the bag at me.

My laughter was so hard my throat began to hurt and then my stomach cramped up. At that point I grabbed a blanket from the couch and placed it over my head so I could disappear.

I woke up in bed and I could feel the liquor crushing me, telling me to stay down but I was hungry.

A slice of cold pizza drooped from my hand and I munched it down, enjoying the cold cheese and the stiff pepperoni scratching the top part of my mouth. My eyes scanned for a clock and there was nothing but digital numbers on the microwave blinking 12:00. My toes curled themselves in against the crummy blue tile floor. I walked onto the old carpet in the living room and found my panties.

"Is there pizza?" he asked as he stretched himself over the bed.

"Yeah."

"Get me a slice." He rubbed his eyes. "Fuck."

"What time is it?"

"It's three."

"In the morning?"

"Afternoon. Vivian, can you get me a beer?"

"That's it?" I asked.

"Give me my shirt back."

I took off his shirt and threw it into his room as I went back to the kitchen to get us a couple of beers. We were on vacation, I told myself. I walked back with two cold Budweisers and the prick was waiting for me with a camera. I stood in the doorway with the cold beers pressed against my nipples.

"Take your fucking picture." I smiled and he took my picture.

"Give me my beer."

I tossed both beers at him and I quickly put his shirt back on again.

"I got you."

"Yeah, sure you did."

"I did, Vivian."

"Well, you know I'll find it and destroy it."

"Not this time. You might even make the cover."

"Fuck off. When does this vacation end?"

"Where's my pizza?"

"Forgot. Sorry. When does Corey come back?"

"Tomorrow. You should move in with me."

"I'm not living with Corey and you."

"No, I mean Corey finds another roommate."

"Forget it."

"Wouldn't it be lovely?"

"Yeah, it would be lovely. It would be lovely for you who's always trying to catch me naked for a picture. I told you before, I like my space."

"Fuck, Vivian."

"Look, I'll think about it," I told him to shut him up.

"Good." He took a sip. "Your place would work."

"Yep, it's roomy."

My eyes squinted at the hallway light and then like a dark moon Damien stepped into it.

"You awake?" he asked.

"Ugh!"

"Viv, I want you to meet my parents."

"Not now." I squished the pillow over my head.

"Tomorrow."

"I can't go to Boston," I told him as I pulled the sheet over my cool shoulders.

"They're coming out here."

"Oh."

"We're going out for dinner tomorrow, and I want them to meet you."

"I didn't know that you saw me that way." I tried hard to remember when was the last time I had met a boyfriend's parents.

"We'll meet them at the restaurant."

"Doesn't Corey come back tonight?" I asked him as I fixed my mated hair into a bun.

He rubbed his eyes and yawned. "Yep."

"I gotta get home."

"Viv, you're gonna come out tomorrow? I'll pick you up."

"Yeah, sure," I told him because I knew he gave me no choice.

"You're wearing my shirt," he reminded me.

I looked down and yes, I was wearing his black T-shirt. I tucked it into my jeans. "I'll give it back to you later."

"Cute."

I curtseyed.

"Viv, you make me happy."

"Do I?"

"Come here."

"What?" I asked as I pulled on a sock. "What do you want?"

"Come here." He grinned at me. "I want to hug you."

"What?"

"Give me a kiss."

I kissed him and he exploded with laughter and then a wave of his pizza fart overwhelmed me. "You're fucking sick. I hate it when you do that."

"You fuckin' love it."

"No, I don't."

"If we moved in..."

"You'd stop?"

"I would do anything for you. I would even do the shit and shower together."

"You're fucking sick." I pillow pounded him until he pinned me down.

## WOLSTON 1993

After November 21

IN MY bed, I turned over and over in the dark. Darren was keeping me up. I whispered to myself to hate him and then I thought of his stupid wife and wondered what she looked like. His cookie-greedy son took him away from me and I was supposed to remember that he loved me. Loved me. Loved me was supposed to make me feel better. Loved me was nothing I wanted.

In the studio a burnt sienna canvas gawked at me and I looked back at it and all I saw was Darren. I plugged my ears with Alex's music and I squished the brush into a squiggle of black paint. The heavy strokes resembled a face of a man, and I painted over the face and made a big black Christmas tree.

At the café I flinched each time I heard the bell ring, thinking that it was Darren. The idea of Darren teased me with possibility.

After work I wandered over to Rover Lounge. Rover Lounge with its neon sign glistening over the snow like the city's Christmas lights.

Low and pathetic, I couldn't move myself from the shelter of the bus stop. I stood there with my face inches away from the thick smudged glass, watching and waiting until he came out and then I would make my move.

Darren came out and I wiped the condensation away from the window as I watched him walk to his car. He jerked the car door open and I laughed because he still hadn't fixed it. This was my last chance I told myself as I breathed onto my fingers. The red light was bright against the thick snowy atmosphere. My feet stayed on the sidewalk and I couldn't move. I couldn't move my feet toward his car to ask for a ride home. The light turned green and he was gone.

The next day I flipped through the phone book and I found his last name, Bader with a D, beside it. I was happy to see that it wasn't the address I'd known before. It was his address in Saber, 15-712 Merk Street.

I called work and pretended I had the flu again. I took the bus all the way down into Saber, which was its last stop. Two boys who were wearing leather bomber jackets spat as soon as they were off followed by two girls who were chewing gum and kept shouting at one of the guys. Then there was an old lady with a terrible cough and a shopping cart filled with bags of stuff. She smelled like mothballs.

Wicklow Street had a tiny convenience store but then it filtered out to a neighbourhood of dirty stucco townhouses. The lawns were cluttered with rusted Trans Ams and the occasional kitchen appliance, and pickup trucks were in the driveways.

After studying the map I took a couple of turns and there was Merk Street. Merk Street started with two dilapidated apartment buildings that were covered in graffiti tags. Then farther down the street were townhouses that were built in the seventies. The stucco townhouses were trimmed with tones of orange, amber, and brown. The "712" townhouses were orange. The sidewalk up to the homes was barely shovelled and they had tossed a few layers of sand on top of the ice. The yards had barbeques, tires, and plastic kids' toys sticking up from under the snow. I looked behind me and there was the kiddie park with one slide and two swings. The swings were rung up high and one of the seats was broken.

I brushed the snow off the graffiti-carved park bench. Below my feet were numerous cigarette stubs that had been stubbed into a pile of snow with a blue beer can sticking out.

I walked past number thirteen and then there was fifteen, two black numbers on an orange door that was beaten-up with scruff marks. My stomach felt sick and I kept on walking, walking around the street again hoping that Darren would come out in the meantime.

At Number 5 Derek ran out and grabbed a blue ball.

"Derek," his mother shouted after him.

She looked at me. Her yellow hair blew in front of her as she tugged on a brown toque. Her mouth was stuffed with a smoke and Derek ran ahead of her trying to bounce the ball on the snow. She walked away and then turned the corner with Derek.

I stood in front of number fifteen. My cold finger touched the pitted numbers of one and five. I crushed my ear against the door to hear if Darren was inside. It was silent. I knocked. A bus grunted into gear and I jumped and I almost hid behind their tiny barbeque.

With my heart beating hard, I left. I found myself on the main drag of Saber, which was a big tundra of parking lots with old stores surrounding the main shop, Hives Grocer. Most of the other shops were empty with _for lease_ signs on them. And across from Hives was O'Lenny's Place, advertising their _$1.99 Eggs and Bacon_ and _Wednesday's_ _Ladies Nite._

My feet were frozen and I walked into the grocery store. I didn't know what I was doing when I strolled down the canned vegetable and fruit aisle. Then all the way down the aisle I saw the yellow hair and then I heard her loud voice. Darren's wife was a cashier.

"You know how it is, Maril. They piss what they earn."

"I wish it wasn't my money too."

"I never let Darren have any of my money. He's like a three year old."

"That's what I should do. Get my own account."

"Ask him to pay you cash. Sometimes he will." Her voice trailed off as I wandered down the junk food aisle. I grabbed a bag of pretzels, a bag of ketchup chips, and a pack of minty gum.

"I know. That's exactly what I told him. Sometimes, Maril, I wish he never came back. It was easier without him." She laughed as she pressed the button that moved the pretzels, chips, and gum to her hand.

"Five seventy-four," her big lips flapped at me as she slapped the green gum between her teeth.

Her dark eyes watched me and I read her name tag: Lori. She gave me a tight smile as I gave her three two dollar bills.

"From six." Her mouth smiled for a second. "You want the receipt?" Her warm fingers dumped the change into my palm.

"No."

She tossed the three items into a black plastic bag and handed it to me.

Her smile was horrible. She was horrible as I looked at her heavy mascara eyes and her sloppy pink lipstick lips that made her skin look yellow.

"Lori, you're going on a date with him tonight?"

"Yeah, we're going to see a movie."

"What movie?"

" _The Age of Innocence_."

"Darren actually wants to go?"

"Not really, but right now everything is about committing to me. Lucky me."

I left the warm store behind as my tears winced at the cold air. I forced myself to keep walking so that I didn't turn around and go back to Lori. Lori, who didn't even know I existed. Lori, who I wanted to tell desperately that I would take Darren and she could have him on the weekends to take care of Derek. Instead I ran for the bus that was about to take off.

A splattered mess of a painting—the man, the black Christmas tree all swirled into a shiny turpentine muddle. I munched on pretzels and all I could think about was their movie date. They were probably sitting in the theatre right now.

His wife was sickening and he chose her. I squeezed out the blue paint and I painted a piggy nose and then the big lips tightened into a grin. I painted her eyes shut and her cheeks were sunken like she was purposely sucking them in. Her teased yellow hair was stringy and clung to her skin like snakes.

In the wee hours of the morning when I should have been at work helping Nadine open the café, I called her. She felt so bad for me, especially when I coughed a few times into the phone. She told me cheerfully to get better and with a good sniffle I told her I would. After the phone call I went to the garage and sat there looking at my Lori painting.

My mother, who was still dressed in her cozy flannels, came into the garage.

"I thought you worked today?"

"No, I have it off."

"Oh. I thought tomorrow was your day off."

"Yeah, tomorrow I have off too. I traded with somebody."

"Vivvy, it's freezing in here."

"I'm okay," I told her.

"You're up early. I'm making pancakes. Do you want some?"

"Sure. Mom, can you make blueberry pancakes?"

"I'll see if I have any."

After a few more paintings of Lori, I took a walk into the inviting afternoon sunshine that was cold and too bright for my bare eyes. The long walk brought me to Rover's Lounge.

Hopelessly, I sat in the bus stop with my eyes glued to his car and Rover's dark entrance. Darren—I could see him sitting at the bar with a beer, and I could smell his cheap cigarettes, and I could feel his hand squeezing my thigh. Then he came out and I almost said hi to myself. I pushed myself off the seat and an old lady took my spot. I was about to wave him down but a bus creaked to a stop in front of me and then I heard Darren's broken car sped off.
November 27-28

LIKE A suffering lump I stared aimlessly at my Lori paintings. I was out of canvas and out of ideas—the thrill of painting Lori had started to die off.

My parents wouldn't be back until dinner time and Darren trampled inside my head. I looked outside to the dead winter and I decided to give Alex a call. I told myself I was over Darren. He was gone and I wasn't going to chase him anymore. I just hoped that Alex would answer so that I could forget about Darren.

His phone rang and rang.

"Hello?"

"Alex, it's me, Viv."

"You're off today?"

"Yeah. What are you doing?"

"I just got home. When I went to the café yesterday they said you were sick."

"Oh, yeah. I was, sort of."

"What are you doing?"

"How come you didn't call me, Alex? Where's my soup?"

"Next time. What are you doing?"

"Calling because I need a car."

"You didn't kill anybody?"

"Not yet."

"Why do you need a car?"

"I need to get canvases. I'm all out and I can't take them on the bus."

"You can't get your parents' car?"

"No," I moaned into the phone. "They're at work. I've missed you."

"Sure you did."

"Can you get me a car?"

"I'll call you back."

Instead of calling me back, Alex showed up in a new black mustang. The car grunted immaculately and the hot air blew in my face.

"You like the ride?" Alex asked as he stepped on the gas.

"Yeah. How did you get this?"

"It's Mike's."

"Oh, so he was fine with us using it for the art store? I thought you were going to get the van?"

Alex laughed. "I didn't tell him that. He thinks I'm using it to impress you."

"That's Mike."

"So, I have good news. I got the Sugar gig on Saturday."

"Wow, that's awesome."

"Yeah. You should bring Jeanie with you and anybody else. I'll put them on the list."

"Sure," I said, hoping this would count as a girl's night. "That's fantastic," I told him, taking a smoke out of his pack.

After we dropped off the canvases, we went to Uncle Earl's pub, which was filled with the usual down and out old men. There was a juke box that had a _broken_ sign on it and in the far corner of the pub was a green pool table that was lit up like an emerald shrine.

"I thought Mike was going to be here?"

"Yeah, he'll be here. Do you know what you're going to paint?"

"On those canvases?"

"Yeah, that you made me carry."

"You offered."

"So, what are you going to paint?"

"I don't know yet."

"Viv, my cousin Madeline is opening up a café and I told her about you. Especially about the part that you don't paint clouds and blue skies or unidentified objects. She'd like to meet you and would love to see your paintings. That's what she said."

"What did you say about my paintings?" I asked as I sat back against the stiff vinyl seat that was mended with black electric tape.

"Darling." He put his arm around me. "I told her that you paint tasteful nudes and you're dying to paint me."

I punched him in his side.

"You should be nice to me."

"Why?" I asked.

"Because she's going to do me a favour, so that means..."

"That I got to do you a favour."

"Alex." A husky voice bellowed.

An old man with a red face and smoothed-back white-blondish hair tucked his grey tie into his grey pants.

"Uncle Earl."

"What this you've got?" He grinned. "What a pretty thing you are. Jamie said that you've been bringing a girl around."

"This is Vivian."

"Vivian, like Vivien Leigh. She was one sexy broad and talented too." I shook Uncle Earl's huge red liver-spotted hand.

"So, how was Florida?"

"Gorgeous, always. And how is your mother doing?"

"Good."

"Tell her I say hi. It's nice to see you around, Alex. Vivian, it was a pleasure to meet you."

Uncle Earl smoothed his blond hair. "Hey you!" His chubby finger pointed at one of the customers sitting at the bar.

"Earl." The guy bumped into another guy as he got up from the barstool.

"I was just thinking of you," Earl told him.

The guy reached into his pocket and gave Uncle Earl a thick envelope.

"Jamie, get him a drink." Uncle Earl slapped him on the back as he placed the money in his pocket.

The guy hunched himself over his tall beer.

"He's older than I thought. How old is your mom?"

"That's my second or great uncle."

"What?" I asked.

"That's my mom's uncle."

"Oh. Is Jeff allowed to come here?"

"Somewhat. Yeah." Alex crushed out his smoke. "I was wanting to ask you if you would like to come to my parents' house for dinner? It's on your birthday."

"Really?" I asked doubtfully. "So, am I your girlfriend?"

"You are. You'll be eighteen." He kissed my cheek. "Every Sunday we have a roast."

"Ah, that's where you go."

"What do you say?"

"Yeah, sure. I'd love to." I killed my smoke.

The tan-coloured house poked out of the snow beside a big bush and a short leafless tree, and right across from the house were the train tracks. The bay window was steamy and the smell of a Sunday roast consumed the frozen air.

"We're here! It smells good!" Alex shouted as he kicked the snow off his runners on the welcome mat.

Alex's mother appeared. She fingered her short curly brown hair and her blue plastic hoop earrings jingled.

"Allie." She pinched his cheek.

"Mom, this is Vivian."

"Vivian, it's nice to meet you. Allie has told me so much about you." She pushed her pink sweater sleeves up and held out her hand. "Call me Laura, Vivian."

We shook hands with her thick turquoise bracelets clunking together. "It's nice to finally meet you, Laura."

"Where's Dad?"

"He's in the living room. Your cousin Madeline is here. She has a surprise."

"Married?"

"Nope, I didn't see a ring. Did you see that nice red car?" Laura straightened out her shoulder pads.

"Hers?"

"Yep, snazzy stuff."

"Is that the surprise?"

"No, she won't say. She wants to wait until after dinner." Alex's mother smiled at me. "Oh, you guys are just so sweet."

"When's dinner gonna be ready, Mom?"

"In about five. Honey, why don't you warm up the keys?"

"Is that Alex?" his dad shouted.

His father was tall like Alex but thicker and his hair was buzzed short like a fat bristle brush. In the corner of the living room was an upright piano with a spider fern crawling around it.

His dad winked at me. "Who is this?"

"Dad, this is Vivian."

"Vivian." He grinned. "I'm Jim." I shook his meaty hand. "Why don't you get me a beer, son?" His dad grinned. "Did you want a beer, Vivian?"

"Sure."

"Where did you two meet?" he asked cheerfully.

"At a café. I'm the coffee girl."

"Yeah, that's right. He said you work at the Café House?"

"Coffee House Café."

"And he picked you up?"

"Yeah."

He nodded his head in approval. "Way to go, son." He elbow-nudged Alex. "You see there's no harm in it. She's enjoying herself."

"No harm in what?" asked Alex's cousin Madeline as she tied her curly hair into a bun.

"Madeline, this is Vivian."

"Hi, Vivian." We shook hands. "Is Uncle Jim acting up again?"

"I'm just so proud of Alex." He kissed him on the cheek. "He's a Twigger."

"Okay, dinner's ready," shouted Laura as she set the roast beef down. "Come and eat."

"Did you need help?" Madeline offered.

"I need all of you to come and eat. Jim, do you mind carving the roast?" Laura asked as Jim sat down with the roast beef already in front of him.

We all sat down in front of our shiny white plates and floral silverware and yellow-flowered water glasses.

"Vivian, Alex has told me about your paintings. Are you showing them anywhere yet?" asked Madeline as she passed me the mashed potatoes.

"Not yet. I just haven't found a place."

"Alex told me they wanted something different?" Her face frowned at me.

"Yeah."

"My sister Marlo went to art school."

"I thought she was in design school?" asked Alex.

"Yeah, she was studying to become a fashion designer, wasn't she?" Laura asked.

"She was, but then she changed her mind like a billion times. She moved from Vancouver to New York to go to art school. But she did finish her art degree."

"Oh, right. I remember when your mom and dad were going out there. That was last summer, I think."

"Vivian, Alex practically sold me on them. He called them creepy and colourful. I'm dying to see them."

"If you want, you could come to my studio."

"What about next Sunday around one?"

"Sure."

"What's the surprise?" interrupted Laura.

"Well, I'm opening up a café in Alex's neighbourhood. Hot Café."

"That's hot," Alex said as he splashed gravy all over his food.

"I love it. It's really catchy."

"Thanks, Auntie Laura."

"When are you going to open it?" asked Jim.

"Oh," she sighed. "I was hoping in November but it probably will be in early December. You guys are going to have to come to the opening."

"Are your parents coming out?"

"Not until early summer. You know how they are, after the snow and before the mosquitoes. They still can't believe I moved back."

"I've been trying to convince Jim to go out there."

"Laura, I've been there before. Every time I go out there it's raining."

"But we should try to go in the summer."

"We'll see."

"Auntie Laura, your yams are so yummy."

"Thank you. They're easy to do. I'll give you the recipe if you want."

"I'd love it."

"So how is my little Mozart doing?"

"Good."

"There's a friend of mine who's looking for a piano teacher for her grandson."

"Mom, I'm too busy."

"Auntie Laura, I haven't heard little Mozart in ages. Why don't you play us something?"

"That's a wonderful idea. Alex?"

Alex took a gulp of his beer and pulled at his shirt's collar. "Is there dessert?"

"He's so bashful."

"I don't play the piano anymore, and when I did, I wasn't that good."

"You were wonderful. Oh Vivian, did he ever tell you why he quit?"

"Mom, dessert?"

"Apple pie. He was in this piano competition and he played wonderful, flawless, just look at those hands. And he won second place. I was so proud."

"Yep, and everybody knows it."

"He's a wonderful pianist."

"Penis? What are you talking about, Laura?" Jim asked.

"Pianist. Somebody who plays the piano." She mouthed each word at Jim. "He's going deaf."

"It would be nice if he played that piano. It was hellish to move."

"Who wants ice cream?" Laura asked.

"Everybody does," replied Jim.

"Next Saturday I'll be the DJ at Sugar."

"Oh, my God. I'm so happy," replied his mother, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Way to go." Jim gave Alex a thumbs up. "Laura, give me two scoops please."

"You're on a diet, Jim. And I saw how much gravy you put on your plate."

"How's Mikey doing?" asked Jim.

"Good. He got himself a new mustang."

"He's a go-getter, that one. And Jeff, he's staying out of trouble?"

"Jeff is Jeff."

"He should go into construction. Tell him if he needs a job to give me a call."

"Jeff in construction?" Laura crumpled her face at Jim.

"Yeah, he's got a lot of energy."

"He's so tiny."

"Laura, there's women in construction."

"Okay. Sorry I asked, Jim."

## NEW YORK 2000

November 8

"WHY IS it always dark?" Damien flicked on the bedroom lights.

"Where are we going?" I buckled on a pair of chunky high-heel black Mary Jane shoes.

"Lemongrass Grill on Seventh. Chloe is crazy about Asian food."

"Who's Chloe?"

"My little sister. I told you about her." Damien stood in the doorway. "You look nice."

"Thanks," I told him as I teetered on my toes for a kiss.

"You've been drinking?"

"No, just two. We got time for a beer. Did you want one?"

"Yeah. Viv, did you clean my shirt?"

"Yeah, it's in the closet."

My sluggish body kept colliding into Damien. Instead of getting mad, he just held my arm and directed me onto Seventh Avenue.

On Seventh Avenue we passed the grocer with the beautiful display of flowers. Temptation got the better of me as I snuck out of Damien's grip and grabbed a tiny bouquet of apricot-orange red-tipped roses.

"What are you doing?"

"Aren't they pretty?" I smelled them and then I poked them under Damien's nose.

He snatched them out of my hand.

"We should get them for your mom."

"No." He stuffed them back into the white bucket with the other ones.

"Maybe I want them."

He squeezed my arm and we crossed the street.

"Walk!" he shouted at me.

"I'm wearing heels, you asshole," I hissed at him. "Who picked the restaurant?"

"I did."

"I thought Chloe likes sushi."

"She likes Asian food. Thai is Asian."

"So is sushi."

We stopped underneath the red canopy of Lemongrass Grill.

"Do we have time for a smoke?" I pulled out my smokes and my wallet fell onto the ground.

"You're such a fuckin' mess."

"Fuck off, Damien."

"Straighten up, you're meeting my parents. What are you, fuckin' retarded?"

"You fucking dragged me here! You want me to go home?" I grabbed my wallet. "Isn't that your parents, right there. I hope they see what an asshole you are."

He shoved me inside the restaurant and I accidently stepped onto his mother's foot and almost fell over again but Damien caught me.

"Sorry." I smiled at her dark buggy eyes.

Her tight lips squeezed out a smile. "It's okay. I'll survive."

"Mom. Dad." Damien gave them a hug each.

I stood there trying hard not to fall over with his mom and dad peeking at me with their buggy mean eyes.

"Mom and Dad, this is Vivian."

"Hi Vivian, call me Patty and that's Bill. You're okay?"

"She's a little bit sick."

"What?" His mother squinted at Damien.

"She's got a cold."

"Too much coughing medicine?" asked his dad.

"Yeah." My voice squeaked. "I need to use the washroom."

"You're okay?"

"Mom, she's fine."

"Yeah. I just got to pee." I tried doing a convincing cough. "This cold is the worse, Patty."

"Maybe you should go home," his mom suggested.

"No, I'll be okay. I thought your sister was gonna be here?"

"She's here," replied Bill.

I gave Damien a kiss on his cheek. "I'll be back."

When I came back to the table both Bill and Patty watched me stumble into my chair. Chloe let out a laugh.

"Hi Vivian, Chloe." Chloe looked like a butched-up Mia Farrow. Her brown eyes pounced on me. "You feel better?"

"Yeah, thanks. Where's the menus?"

"I ordered for you."

"Did you get me a beer?"

"Yeah. Chloe, how's Joey doing?" Damien asked.

"Joey, I couldn't give a shit."

"I like Joey." Patty told her.

"Then you marry him."

"Chloe, you be nice to your mother."

"The drive was too long."

"Apologize to your mother."

"Fuck."

"Chloe?!"

"I didn't say anything wrong, Dad."

"You wanna walk home?"

"Stop. That's enough. Let's just have a nice dinner."

"What happened with Joey?" I blurted out.

"I broke up with him. And my parents who apparently love me think I'm stupid for breaking up with him."

"I didn't say that." Patty told her.

Chloe rolled her eyes.

"Is that why you're a butch now?"

"You noticed, big brother. Joey made me into a dyke. Mom and Dad hate my hair."

"It'll grow back."

"Yeah, Dad, unless I cut it again."

The drinks arrived and I drank my beer as Damien stepped on my foot.

"Thirsty?" Chloe smirked at me.

"Yeah. This Asian beer is like water."

Damien pinched my elbow. "OW! God, that hurts."

"Chloe's in art school."

"Yep. So you make an actual living at it?" She twirled a chopstick like a baton.

"Yeah."

"Damien said your paintings were awesome."

"Yeah." I finished my beer and started to pick off the sweating label.

"What's going on tonight?" Damien asked Chloe.

"I'm seeing Jessie tonight."

"He's out here?"

"Yeah, his parents let him go away to school."

"When do you guys leave?"

"Tomorrow at two."

"You're staying at Uncle Luke's?"

"Unfortunately." She looked at her dad.

"You didn't have to come."

"I could of stayed with Jessie, Dad. I'm going to be out, like, all night."

"That's fine. I'll be up," Bill replied with a belch.

"You're a freakin' nightmare."

"Look, the food is here. Chloe that's enough," Patty said as she flicked her blond curly hair behind her. "You're staying at Uncle Luke's, and when you move out you can do whatever you want and I don't want to hear about it."

Damien plopped a bunch of noodles on my plate.
November 10

AT THE beginning of the night Damien was such a sweet bartender. But as the bar got busier I caught each flirty move that he did and then he'd stop serving me—I was cut off he would whisper to me. It was like he thought he was Dionysus.

I had enough of him winking at girls and the girls whispering amongst themselves as they licked their lips for him, and I was stuck nursing a glass of melted ice water.

I pushed myself off the stool and swayed myself to the washroom line and then I found myself on the dance floor with some guy. My blurry dance partner resembled a Muppet—Sam the Eagle. His hand squeezed my shoulder ever so lightly that I found myself looking at his claw-like grip.

"Where are you going?" he asked me as he tried to keep me there.

"Barf."

"What?"

"I have to barf."

"Beer? What?"

I used sign language and he understood by moving out of the way. I wobbled back to the bar and elbowed my way beside a blonde.

"I want a drink," I shouted at Damien as he took the blonde's dollar tip.

He splashed the drink down in front of me with the straw dropping onto the bar.

"Go sit down!" he shouted at me.

In the dark maze of the busy bar I found a seat and rested my head against the bumpy plaster wall. A slap made my cheeks sting and my eyes opened onto Damien, who was pushing a glass of water at me.

"Drink that," he barked at me.

The bar's lights obnoxiously went on.

"I'll have another one." I sipped at the water.

He tossed my coat in my face. "Let's go."

"Damien, you called her a cab?" asked a deep voice.

"Yeah."

"You know her?"

"No, she's just a regular."

The deep voice thundered into a laugh.

"Later."

I tried to get up but my sleepy legs made me fall down.

"Fuck," I heard him say as he carried me outside to the taxi.

Damien slapped me awake again and then pushed me outside and I sauntered behind him. When we got home he got me a water and then stood there in the kitchen staring at me like I was a museum exhibit.

"What? I'm fucking tired!" I pushed him out of the way.

He pulled me by my hair and I threw the water back at him, but it splashed onto the wall.

"You fuckin' bitch!" he yelled. "You're going to get me fuckin' fired!" He shoved me hard, hard enough so that I slipped and crashed into the tiles. "What the fuck were you doing tonight?"

"What do you mean?" I asked, rubbing the back of my head. "Asshole. You fucking hurt me."

"All fuckin' night you were with that fuckin' guy."

"What guy?" My head tried to race for the best answer for him. "Nothing happened."

"Is that right?"

"What about you? How many other girls do you give free drinks to? You always have some fucking blonde."

"You're delusional."

"You're the loony, I wasn't with any guy."

"I don't want you coming to the bar anymore. You're fuckin' cut off."

"I guess I'll just find some other bartender."

He jerked me up by my neck.

"Fuck. Let me go." I tried scratching him but he pushed me into the shower and then the freezing water gushed all over me.

"I fucking hate you!" I screamed at him. Then my hand found the tall shampoo bottle and I smacked his head with it.

"Bitch!" His grip loosened around my throat and then I lunged for him but he caught me. He splashed me back into the shower and I tossed the conditioner at him and I missed.

"I hate you!"

He laughed.

"I'm fucking freezing."

He turned off the water and dried my face. "Take off your clothes."

"Asshole." I stripped off the drenched black T-shirt. "If you think you're going to fuck me tonight..." I tried peeling off my skin-tight jeans.

"I'm gonna do more than that." His strawberry lips smirked at me as he yanked off my wet jeans. "You owe me."

I smacked the wet bra in his face.

"Whore," he whispered as he pinched my tit.

"Asshole," I mumbled and then I forgot what an asshole he was as he fingered me.

## WOLSTON 1993

December 4

THE TAXI was late and my mom was searching for her camera and it reminded me of grad night.

"You two look fabulous."

Jeanie was wearing a red sequin dress and bright feathers in her hair. She looked like she should have been on Broadway. I felt dull wearing a black dress and knee high boots.

"Mom, hurry up! We gotta go!" I yelled.

"Found it." She ran over. "Remember to smile."

We posed as she took two photos.

"Got it."

I grabbed my leather coat.

"Vivvy, why don't you wear your parka?"

"I'm fine."

"It's freezing out there," Jeanie said as she put on her big parka.

"I'll be okay. I'm warm. The taxi's here. I'll see you later, Mom."

Our girls' night turned into a lot of shouting. Jeanie couldn't wait to start dancing and I shook my head that I wasn't drunk enough to dance.

"I totally love this song. Drink up."

"You love every song," I reminded her.

I already wanted to go home. I was tired of standing and getting knocked in to and my feet were squished and I hated dancing.

Jeff pinched my sides. "Sweetie, introduce me to your friend. She seems nice, really nice."

"Jeanie, this is Jeff." I rolled my eyes at her and she laughed.

He shook her hand. "You ladies want a drink? My treat."

"Yeah, would love one," she told him.

He left and then she pushed me onto the dance floor. When I danced, I felt like a tall idiot. Music moved me, just not in public. So all I did was sway back and forth and try to stay in my little space. Jeff found us, and he couldn't stop himself from smiling at Jeanie.

"When is Alex on?" I pulled Jeff away from Jeanie.

"He's up next," Jeff shouted at me.

"Jeanie, I'll be back."

"You've got to be kidding me. Where are you going?"

"To the washroom. I gotta pee."

"Take this." She gave me her half-full drink.

While I was at the bar, they announced DJ Twigger. Alex was wearing one of his white striped shirts and jeans, and I wondered if he still wore his dirty runners. He hardly looked around. I wanted to shout out his name, but I waited until I heard the music. It started out with some funky beats.

"Where'd you go?" Jeanie crossed her arms.

"Washroom."

"You were gone forever. Come and dance." She pulled me away from my somewhat comfortable position and we were back to dancing. The music was good and I did enjoy it, but after getting poked by a few elbows and getting my feet stomped on, I was ready to quit. I looked at Jeanie for a sign that she wanted to get a drink, but she was still dancing.

"Jeanie, Jeanie, I'm going to get a drink."

She tilted her head. "What?"

I used hand signals to explain that I was getting a drink.

"Yeah, okay," she said as she jumped around.

"Did you want one?"

"Yeah, sure. I'll find you."

When I got to the bar I sat down and ordered my two drinks. Once they came I just couldn't get up. Every so often I turned around and I could sort of see Alex and then I ordered a shot to wake me up before I got another set of drinks.

Eventually I stood by the edge of the dance floor and watched Alex do his thing. Watching him made me want to go home and paint and listen to his CD in my walkman.

"Hey." I knew it was Mike behind me because I smelled his skunk-like cologne.

"Hey. He's freaking awesome, Mike."

"People are loving him. Where's your friend?"

"Oh, God. She has a boyfriend, Mike."

"I don't want to hit on her."

"She's dancing."

"Why aren't you dancing?"

"Drink break. I saw Jeff."

"Yeah, he's in the back. Viv, you look hot."

"Yeah, thanks. Do you have a smoke?"

He gave me a smoke. "You should go out there and shake your ass. I'm going to the back." Mike pulled up his shiny pants.

"What's in the back?"

"Girls and a big couch. When Alex is done come to the back and bring your friend."

"Will do, Mikey." I smiled.

After Mike left I stole a seat and watched Alex finish up his set as I finished off Jeanie's drink.

"You totally bummed out. And you drank my drink."

"You want ice?" She took the glass. "My feet hurt. I think I got blisters."

"Sure, you've had them since we arrived. I'm gonna get a drink because I can't trust you with mine."

"My feet really hurt."

"You're such a baby."

"Can you get me a drink too?"

"You still have one."

"Yeah, but it's a pain waiting. Please, Jeanie."

"Okay. Save me a seat." She straightened out her dress.

"Viv?" I heard Jeanie shouting my name and then someone pinched my arm. "Viv? Is she okay? Viv, wake up!"

"Yeah, what?" My eyes felt so heavy and then Alex shook me. I noticed I was in a cab.

"Darling, you're coming home with me," Alex told me.

"Yeah."

"Are you sure?" Jeanie asked. She held the door open and cold air rushed into the snugly warm cab.

"Yeah," I told her. "If my mom calls, tell her I'm in bed."

"I'll call you!" she shouted at me.

My head felt like cement. "I'm so tired," I mumbled at him.

"Have some." His hand held a little mound of cocaine to my nose.

## NEW YORK 2000

November 12

SPLIT PERSONALITY finally got a gig and like a dutiful girlfriend I went to see Damien and his band perform. The grungy bar was full and I kept myself busy with drinks. The band started out a bit rough and then I thought Damien would be the lead singer but they had another guy to scream out the uninspiring angry lyrics.

My eyes scanned the crowd and then I'm sure I spotted her. She was totally out of place—her clothes gave her away. Maybe that baby-blue shirt was the darkest colour that she owned, and it still had some glitter glued to it. I stared at her big bobble head and hoped she would notice me, but she was too interested in cheering for Damien while he played his guitar solo.

When the band was finally done playing I made sure to greet Damien with a big kiss. "You're sexy," I whispered to him. His sweat clung to my cheek.

"Babe, could you get me a beer?" Then I saw his eyes wander from mine to someone behind me. I knew who it was without even turning around to see his blonde.

"Sure. Is that all you want?"

"Viv, give me a smoke."

I twinkled my eyes at him. With a steady hand I stubbed my burning cigarette through his black T-shirt onto his chest.

He tried grabbing me but I disappeared into the crowd.

It was over, we were over and I wanted to scream—scream the whole way home. Instead the subway screeched as I sat alone with three other lonely misfits of the night who gaped at the light-blurry Brooklyn.

# MIDDLES
## NEW YORK 2000

November 13

THROUGH THE apartment walls I could hear Desiree shouting for help, and then it turned into her shrieking as he finally raped her. I felt so alone as I took out the last bottle of beer. Instead of waiting for him to come back I went to see Marlo to get my cash and to drop off the commission.

"I'm so happy to see you. Well, the _Golden Nip_ has been sold. I almost bought it myself, but he beat me to it."

"Who?"

"Ian Young. We went to art school together. He's pretty cool."

"Oh, that's great."

"I will be sad once we take it down."

"This is the commission." I showed her the camouflage commission of Xena.

"That's fab. Oh, he's gonna love it. It's for his girlfriend. Lucky girl."

"They didn't call about it yet?"

"No, you are a total rock star."

"Thanks." I rubbed my eyes.

"What's the matter?"

"We broke up." I was hoping that she'd offer me a drink. "It's horrible."

"Oh no."

"Yeah. I'm pretty torn."

"That sucks. Hey, do you wanna have a drink?"

"Yeah, I'd love one. I think I need to."

"What do you want?"

"Guinness and maybe a shot. I just need something. He's such an asshole, Marlo."

"Go sit down and I'll bring it to you."

I sat down at the booth and she came over with a Guinness, a shot, and a light beer for herself.

"I'm so sad to hear that."

"It was for the best." I took a sip to add to my morning drinks. "I mean he's a fucking asshole. You know, I know he was seeing someone else before when we broke up the first time and then we got together again and things were good, even better. I met his parents."

"Really?"

"Yeah." I downed the shot. "He wanted me to." The creamy head of the Guinness tickled my lips. "Then I went to go see him play, he's in a band. Anyways, they suck, and then there she was."

"Who was she?"

"Some girl from the bar that he works at. You know, it wasn't as if he was trying to hide her. It was like I'm here and you're here and we're fucking the same guy and that's supposed to be okay. Anyways, it's over. He's out." I took a long hard gulp and I sat back underneath the _Golden Nip_ painting. "I'm pretty sure he's not coming back."

"What a prick!"

"Yeah, that he is."

"He's an asshole, Vivvy," She reassured me. "Don't spend too much time missing him."

"I won't. I already hate him." I gulped the last of the Guinness. "But you know if he tasted like a Guinness maybe then I would be crying and pulling out my hair."

"Viv." She laughed. "You want another one?"

"Would love it. Give me another shot too."

I got off the subway at 4th Ave and 9th St and in the clearing distance I noticed a struggling form of a man fighting with his belt. For a second he looked familiar—he reminded me of Eddie. I huddled behind the other New Yorkers who were dying to get across the street but the traffic, sparkling with the falling rain, was too busy.

"Hey you! Vivian! Remember me?" A wet Eddie snuggled under my umbrella.

"Eddie." I was so happy to see him my lips hurt from being stretched into a smile.

"Jesus, what a night!"

"I know I need a drink. All this rain makes me thirsty."

"Viv, what about that promise?"

"I know, you're gonna hold me to that until I'm flat on my back." His big lips looked good enough for a kiss.

"That's the plan."

"Where's your car?"

"It's being held hostage. They gave it back to me and by the night it's dead. I take it back. They tell me it's ready. I go back and they want me to pay again. I told them I already did pay and these fuckers won't give it back until I pay. They even called the cops. I told them that I'm going to sue them. The world is full of assholes, but they're not going to get me down." He grinned. "What have you been doing?"

"I got paid today."

"Well, oh well."

"I'll buy you a drink."

"That's nice, but tonight I'm buying you. I wanna be guaranteed."

"What, my word isn't good enough?"

"Hey, I didn't say anything." He raised his hands. "What do you do? Are you an actress or model?"

"Flattered, but I'm an artist. I paint."

"Wow, I've never known an artist before."

"I'm your first."

"Viv, you're beautiful."

I smiled at him, feeling the warm Guinnesses fill in my flirty words. "You really think so, Eddie?"

"Yeah." He placed his arm around me. "You're gorgeous, Viv."

"Tell me, what were you doing with your pants?"

"I was pulling them up. I didn't want them to get wet."

"Oh."

He pulled me close enough so that his lips touched my earlobe. "Baby, you wanna know what winks and screws like a tiger?" he asked.

"What?" I loved his desperate attempts to guaranteeing himself a fuck for tonight.

He winked at me.

At the warm pub his old buddy Carl wasn't there, so Eddie rushed me into one of the wooden booths.

"So Viv, how old are you?"

"I'm—twenty-four. What about you?" He seemed older but not that old. Maybe thirty-nine.

"You're sure you're twenty-four?"

"That's what I remember. What about you?"

"Thirty-one." He swallowed a shot of liquor.

I opened up a pack of cigarettes. "You want one?" I asked.

"Na. I quit. So, what brought you here?"

I lit my smoke. "You really want to know?"

"Tell me."

"Okay, my friend Marlo owns a bar on Ludlow and she sells my paintings. Marlo kidnapped me to New York. I'm an illegal alien. I think that's what they call it. Anyway, I try to get home every six months or so."

"Wow."

"Yeah, I live pretty dangerously."

"When were you home last?"

"Last June. I'm supposed to go back in December."

"Wow. Let me get this straight. You're an illegal alien?"

"Sh."

"You must be a pretty good painter."

"I'm all right. Okay, that's enough about me. What about you?"

"I was born and raised here. Not too much to know, really. I'm a driver."

"What did you do before that?"

"A lot of other shitty jobs."

"Were you ever married?"

"No. I came close once. It's a Vegas story. My brother's bachelor party was in Vegas, and I met this chick. I was pissed drunk, completely out of it, and at one point I somehow ended up with this chick in the chapel. She was standing beside me and the minister guy was coming up and I blacked out. Luck was on my side because I made it back to my hotel room unmarried. Yep. That's when I was young and stupid."

"And you're smarter now?"

"Yeah, I'd say so. I'm not picking up desperate chicks anymore. Another, baby?"

"Do you even have to ask?" I jingled my empty glass.

"Come on, I'll take you home. Come on, baby."

I reached for his hands but fell onto the grimy floor instead. I looked up at my big man of the night and his eyes glistened like two bright moons.

"You know what would look good on you?"

"What?" Too drunk to know the right answer—thinking naked.

He picked me up. "ME!"

Ha, ha, ha—hard laughter tickled my tonsils.

"What do you think of that?" His hand nestled my chin.

"I'm fine with that, baby." I stared into his dopey blue eyes.

"Let's get out of here." He tried putting my coat on.

"No, no, I'm good. I'm just so hot." My hand patted his chest.

"That's because you are, baby."

We staggered our way back to my apartment.

"You're not going to fall asleep on me?" he asked.

"Baby, that all depends on you."

"I'll take care of you."

"Really?"

He kissed me and I slid on the flyers in the foyer.

"Jesus, you're okay?" He gathered me into his arms.

"Yeah." I pointed to my door. "2R."

"Where are your keys?"

"In my coat."

He gently placed me on a metal-rimmed stair and I held onto the banister to keep myself balanced.

"There's no keys."

"The coat has a hole. It's in the lining," I instructed him.

"Where the fuck are the keys? Don't die on me, Viv. I fucking need this." He pulled the keys out. "Which key?"

I pointed to the big fat pebbly key. "The top lock."

In the dark apartment we tripped and stripped our way to the bed.

"Where's the hook?" His fingers searched the back of the smooth bra.

"In the front." I snapped open the bra, and then he screwed me like a tiger.

After a long drunken dream of water mirages, the bed's cranky springs woke me up. My sore eyes found Eddie pulling up his socks.

He nudged my shoulder. "Hey, Viv? Viv?"

"Yeah."

"You got anything to drink? You know, to wake me up?"

"Kitchen cupboard."

Eddie clamored around in the kitchen until he found something to drink and then he stood in the doorway.

"What?"

"Don't get up, Beauty. I'll see you tonight."

"Okay, Eddie."

"You go back to sleep."

"Okay."
• • •

IN HIGH school my mind was on overdrive with sexual fantasies. One of my favourites was about the school janitor and me: There was me stepping on a ladder, wearing my school uniform (a white shirt and my green-plaid wooly kilt that tickled the soft flesh behind my knees). Then came the sloshing sound of the mop.

"Do you need help?" the janitor asked as he licked his lips.

I tilted my sexy porn-like body. "Yeah, I'm so hopeless."

"Vivian." His peppermint breath rushed over me and made my nipples harden against my white school blouse.

His fat thumb pressed my lips and my neck, my breast and then my nipple. "Sh."

Then he tore open my shirt and the buttons bounced onto the floor like rain. His two big, rough hands squished my breasts as his long tongue lashed at my tough nipples. And we continued on to a televised version of sex, which was a lot of second base.

I first noticed the janitor when I was in geography class. I was sitting in the back corner and Mrs. Fischer was discussing the reuses of animal dung. I was dazing out into the hallway. First the old janitor passed by followed by another loser sort of a man. I was in awe. I'd never really noticed him before but this time he stood out—I think it was his stringy brown hair rushing into his dark squinty eyes.

The next time I saw him was in Mrs. Fischer's class and she was discussing wind energy. I heard the jangle of keys and watched the old man pass and then he came into view and looked right at me. I looked away—back down to my chicken-scribbled notes.

A month later I learned his name was Darren after an accident happened in art class. I was painting a portrait of Winona Ryder from _Heathers_. When I first started painting portraits I attempted to paint my imaginary husband Christian Slater, but he turned out to resemble a monster. So then I tried Winona and that inspired many different portraits of her. I was working on my last portrait under Mrs. Em's direction to put more body into the paint. I was doing the last touch up on her black eyes, which wasn't going too well. The acrylic paint was drying too fast and forming a big unworkable glob.

Suddenly a loud crash woke me up from poking at Winona's gooey eye.

"Crap!" Shelley bent down to pick up the broken glass from the murky-green water.

"Shelley, don't touch it. Just leave it," Mrs. Em instructed her.

"Aw, shit," she yelped. "Mrs. Em, I'm bleeding."

"Shelley, it'll be okay. It's only a little cut. I'll take you to the nurse." Mrs. Em wrapped Shelley's finger in paper towel. "Vivian, can you please get one of the janitors?"

I went down to the basement and there was a sign with a pointing finger that read in thick black capital letters: JANITOR. I followed the pointing finger to a door with another printer-paper sign: JANITOR. PLEASE KNOCK. I knocked twice and the door squealed opened.

My eyes peered into the yellow-lit room and there he stood with a smoke hanging from his lips. His squinty blue eyes looked down into mine. He took the cigarette out of his mouth and rubbed his scruffy goatee.

"What can I do for you?"

I watched his chiseled finger crush out the smoke.

"A student accidently broke a glass of water in Mrs. Em's class."

"All right."

He rolled out the yellow bucket and mop.

"Darren, remember the stage," coughed out the old janitor.

"Yeah, I got it."

We walked with the sound of his keys jingling through the long tight hallway. Cool drips of sweat escaped my armpits and went down my sides as my ponytail swished goosebumps onto the back of my neck. I bit my lower lip to shut my mouth so I wouldn't say anything stupid. I held onto the thick banister as we walked up the stairs with the sound of the yellow bucket wheels clacking.

At the top of the stairs I pulled up one of my fallen knee-high socks and then I looked over my shoulder. He was right behind me and he gave me a grin. I smiled back.

In the classroom all the girls huddled against a desk laughing loudly about St. Peter's school dance and how the chosen Spice Queen was so slutty because she was from St. Peter's sister school, St. Ann's.

"Thanks, Vivian." Mrs. Em tapped me on the shoulder and clapped her hands together. "Girls, back to your work. Darren, there was a glass jar broken."

I went back to the painting—poking at Winona's eyeball. I crossed and uncrossed my legs and watched him sweep up the wet glass. Then he got on his hands and knees to get a bigger chunk of glass that was underneath the desk. He was so close his lips could have kissed my knees.

I jabbed and jabbed until the acrylic blob connected itself onto the paintbrush. I picked up a new brush and swirled it in the red paint. I tried hard to concentrate as he mopped up the water. Each swoosh made me hotter and hotter underneath the itchy wool kilt.

The next day, a Friday, I agreed to help Mrs. Em put up the middle school's masks after school. The brightly coloured masks were either made out of clay or papier-mâché with feathers and glitter glued on.

"Vivian, dear, could you please get the hammer in the broom closet?"

The broom closet whined open and there was her coat and a big patchy banana purse that had a silk scarf stuffed into it. I took the glass jar that was filled with nails and a screwdriver.

"There are only nails."

"Oh, all right." She shook her head. "Could you please go to the janitor's and ask to borrow a hammer?" She sighed. "Where did I put it?" she mumbled to herself as she switched a few of the masks around.

"That's all we need?" I asked her.

"Yeah, thanks."

I almost crashed into Darren while rushing down the stairs.

"Whoops. Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's all right. You're okay?" he asked with a grin.

"Yeah."

"You're looking for me?"

"Yeah, Mrs. Em needs a hammer."

"Come on."

He held the door open for me as I stepped into the janitor's room. There was an old lofty green couch with magazines underneath it and shelves of equipment and a locked locker beside a little fridge.

"Does she need nails?"

"No. She already has some," I told him as I came closer to him.

"Wow. She's got nails but no hammer." He handed me the hammer. "Bring it back when you're done, all right?"

"Yeah."

He opened the door.

"Hey."

I turned around in the doorway.

"Tell Mrs. Em that it's a Friday."

"Yeah, okay. I will."

"Good." He pulled out a smoke. "So what is she putting up this time?"

"Masks. She's really happy with them this year." I forced myself to look down at my shoes—I had to stop talking.

"Uh."

"I'll bring it back soon."

"Yep."

I reached over the ladder to the next hole and was about to hammer in the nail for the last mask.

"Hey, you come down here."

I looked down at Darren and then I got off the ladder.

"Rule one, never lean over the ladder. That's how accidents happen."

He kicked the ladder into position and stepped aside for me to get on.

"Thanks."

I hammered in the last nail and then he handed me the mask.

"Thanks," I told him as he took the hammer. "Thanks for helping me."

"You better watch yourself. You're too pretty to be getting hurt, all right?" The flat wooden end of the hammer lifted my chin toward him as a smile crept upon my lips. "All right?" he asked again with his blue eyes beaming at me.

"Yeah," I responded. My heavy arms wanted to hold him but I fingered the edge of my kilt instead. He slipped the hammer down.

"Oh, Vivian. It's lovely." Mrs. Em clapped her hands.

He looked at her right away as my eyes scanned him with high hopes of possibility.

After school I stood underneath the school's metal canopy hoping the rain would stop. From the school's parking lot an ancient orange Volvo pulled up with all the windows steamed. I thought it was Mrs. Em. The passenger's window rolled down. I looked in and it was Darren. He stretched over to open the door.

"Get in."

"Thank you," I told him as I sat down.

"You might be waiting there all weekend," he said as he lit a cigarette. "Do you want one?"

"Yeah." I popped it in my mouth.

"Suck back."

I sucked back and it lit up easily.

"It's Vivian, right?" he asked.

"Yeah," I said, feeling very mature as I felt the chemical high from the cigarette.

"That's a pretty name for a pretty girl."

I grinned as my finger felt the moist windowpane. "Thanks."

"I'm Darren."

"It's nice to meet you."

"Where do you want to go, Vivian?"

I snuggled myself into the car seat. "Home. I live on Harold Avenue," I reluctantly said because I was conscious of the fact that my Friday night could be spent at home.

"All right. Are you graduating this year?"

"Yep. I can't believe it's my last year." I crossed my arms and I liked how my pressed shirt made my breasts seem bigger.

"Are you going to university?"

"Um, sort of. I guess."

"I guess. Sort of?"

I sighed. "I mean, I should but I don't want to. It's like high school is enough."

"More books, more tests. Who needs it, right?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"What about a boyfriend? Do you have a boyfriend?"

"No, I don't have a boyfriend."

"That's surprising."

I laughed.

"What's so funny?" He touched my knee.

"That you find it surprising that I don't have a boyfriend."

"Because you're an attractive girl."

"Yeah, I guess. Thanks."

He grinned. "You're sweet too."

"You're totally embarrassing me."

"I'm just being honest."

"Okay, thanks."

"What's your address?"

"808. It's the blue and white one right up there. The two storey."

He parked outside my house and his dark blue eyes stared at me.

"Maybe that's why I don't have a boyfriend."

"That's right." He smiled at me as he crushed out his smoke and I did the same.

"You're probably right."

"Probably."

The window's wipers squeaked as they smeared the rain, and the car rattled as it idled. "Vivian, you stay out of trouble."

"Yeah, I'll try. Thanks for everything, Darren. You saved me."

"No problem."

"I owe you one."

"Some day."

He grabbed my arm before I was out in the rain, and I thought he was going to kiss me.

"Take one of these." He pulled out a stick of mint gum.

"Thanks again." I smiled at him with the minty gum stinging my tongue. Under the doorway I watched him drive off.

Finally Friday came and my head was heavy with endless fantasies of Darren. My last class of the day was a spare, so I went to the art room and tried to paint but I was way too distracted.

After class I wandered by the janitor's stairs and smiled at the thought of asking for a screwdriver.

"Vivian." Darren's voice surprised me. "Do you need a ride?"

"Yeah, totally." I could feel my knee sock falling down to my ankle.

"In ten minutes."

"Yeah, sure." I watched him go down the stairs and then I rushed to the locker room.

Originally I was meeting up with Jeanie after school so I brought a change of clothes, but now I was dressing for Darren: a tight blue shirt and flattering blue jeans. In my little locker mirror I quickly put on more mascara and a little lip gloss.

His car was already there and I rushed inside.

"Hi, Darren."

"Hi." He smiled. "What are you doing tonight?"

"Nothing," I sighed.

"You wanna go for a drink?" he asked.

"Yeah, I would like that very much."

"Good." He gave me a cigarette. "Not many accidents this week."

"No, I know. I felt so bad about it. I thought about making some but they seemed like really bad ideas." Hating the sound of my voice, I sucked on the cigarette.

"I like that. That's good that you were thinking about it." We came to a sudden stop. "What the fuck is this?" He punched the horn. "You fuck head. Nice way to signal. I almost went right through your BM fucking W." Darren swung around. "Fuck." He swept the hair away from his eyes. "I'm sorry about that," he said as his hand squeezed my knee.

"They were really fucking lucky if you ask me."

"I swear the more expensive the car, the shittier the driver."

"Yeah."

He looked at me. "Hey, you know, you look beautiful."

"Thanks." A grin gleamed over my face.

He parked next to a dirty brick building with a big red fluorescent sign blinking ROVER LOUNGE. Darren led me to a booth and I was still amazed in a silly way that he was asking me what I wanted to drink.

"Whatever you're having."

At the bar he joked around with the bartender and a couple of lounging drunks as he drank a shot. He came back with a beer and a drink that resembled a Coke but had a bobbing speared cherry.

"I got you a Coke and Captain Morgan. I was thinking you might like something like that."

"Yeah, thanks."

My first drink was sweet at first, but then it had that burn with a quick heat spread over my body. It felt good. He leaned back with his arm resting along the booth.

"Do you usually come here?"

"Yeah, it's a nice little place."

I took another sip and I was getting light headed. His body leaned into mine. "Darren, where do you live?"

"About two buildings over. It's walking distance from here. How long have you been at the school?"

"Oh, since grade eight." I popped the cherry into my mouth.

"Wow, and I've never noticed you before."

"Yeah, that would have been weird. I mean, I was just a kid."

"Now you're a beautiful woman."

I smiled. "I like that. Thanks. A beautiful woman."

"Who are your friends?"

"I don't know. I don't really have any. Just Jeanie. She goes to another school, though."

Our idle talk turned in the lovely direction of more compliments and drinks. By this time I was drunk and his arm squeezed my body closer to him.

"You wanna know something?" he whispered in my ear.

"What?" I asked as his lips touched my earlobe.

"You're the reason why I go to work everyday." His moist lips kissed my bare neck.

"And why am I the reason you go to work everyday?" I asked, playfully wrapping my arms around his neck. He grinned with his squinty eyes narrowing down onto me.

"Because you're beautiful."

"Is that so?"

He nodded, took my chin in his hand, and kissed me. He kissed me lightly at first and then he forced his tongue into my mouth.

"What time do you have to be home?" he asked as he lightly kissed my lips. "God, you're so sweet."

I giggled. "My parents think I'm out with Jeanie tonight. I was going to spend the night at her house." He kissed my neck. "It tickles."

"What?"

"Your goatee."

"You want me to shave?"

"No, I like it."

"You do?"

"Yeah, I really like it." I kissed him and then I kissed his neck.

"Let's go to my place?"

"Sure."

The angry weather left us soaking and cold as we walked into his apartment. His apartment was like a big bedroom. The kitchen on the left was in a closet and on the right was the washroom. In front of me there was a couch and a TV with bent bunny ears. In the far corner was the bed.

A cold shiver quivered through me and I hugged myself. He wrapped me in a wooly blanket and kissed my cheek.

"Did you want tea?"

"No."

"You want a drink to warm up to?"

"Yeah."

I sat down on the couch and gazed at the bed, thinking that's where I was going to end up for my first time.

He handed me a glass with the ice crackling open. "Thanks."

"You want O.J.?"

"No, I don't like it. I like oranges. I just don't like orange juice. It hurts my stomach."

He smiled and I watched him take a big gulp. I took a small gulp and turned the other way because I didn't want him to see me gag.

"How are you feeling?" His blue eyes hazily wandered over my wet clothes.

"Good. How about you?"

"I'm still cold."

I held him in my arms. "Is that better?"

"You know what they say is the best cure for hyperthermia?"

"No. What?"

He pulled me down onto the couch and pinched my naked sides as I squirmed and giggled. "Stop." His pinching hand turned into a claw and slowly crawled across my stomach to my breast and held my neck.

He took my shirt off and mashed his scratchy face into my breasts, sucking at my hard lacey nipples.

"Take off your bra and ask me, 'Do you like it?' "

I unclipped the bra. "Do you like it?" I breathed out as his tongue scooped up a nipple in to his sharp teeth.

"Tell me what a bad girl you've been."

"I've been a very, very bad girl." I bit my lip hard.

"What did you do?" He took off his white shirt and his pants and that was the first time I saw the tip of a penis. It was poking through his blue boxers.

"I love cock too much. I'm so bad." He put my hand on his smooth-hard penis. His head fell into mine as he kissed me again and then his hand went under my panties. It tickled and felt so good at the same time that I thought I would pee.

He poked his dick inside me and it hurt—really hurt. His hand went down and tickled me some more and I squirmed, but each time he shoved it into me the hot pain would return. Then I heard him moan and then I moaned as he came down onto me. I realized it was done as he kissed me.

The grimy white ceiling gawked at me as my vagina felt hot with pain. It felt like a hammer had been stuffed up there and pulled out abruptly.

He looked over at me. "You're all right?"

"Yeah, I just need to go to the washroom."

In the corner of the washroom there were two dirty magazines leaning against an old crumbly plunger. I looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was a matted mess and my nipples were still hard. In the dirty magazine I noticed the blonde's breasts were round like two dodge balls and her nipples were tan and bubbly. The mirror reflected my soft pink nipples and they felt heavy from being manhandled. I grinned.

I tied up my sex hair and went back to Darren, who was lying on the bed with his boxers on.

"Darren, do you have a shirt I can wear?" I asked as I stumbled into my panties.

"Yeah, they're in that drawer." He pointed to his three-drawer dresser.

The white T-shirts were neatly folded, and I put one on.

"Just relax." He kissed my brow. "You're all right?" He handed me a smoke.

"Yeah."

"That was your first time, right?"

"Yeah. Was I that bad?"

"No, you were perfect. You were sexy."

"Oh. Oh, is it because I didn't bleed?"

"Maybe?"

"I lost it to a stick when I was four. I was going downstairs to play with my dolly's crib and for some odd reason I was trying to sit on it. Unfortunately, I sat on the part that took my virginity. So there you have it."

"Sorry."

"It's all right." I looked over to a framed picture of him and a little boy. "Who is that little boy?"

"That's my son, Derek Bader. That was taken about a year ago. He's almost four now. He lives with his mother and I see him on the weekends. He's a good boy."

"He's cute."

"Yeah, I miss seeing him every day but his mother is something else. She does a good job taking care of him, but she was a horrible wife. Hey, I was stupid." Darren put his arm around me. "But don't worry. That's all over, and now it's just you and me, okay?" He stroked my cheek.

"Hm. I like that."

In the morning I got up feeling horrible: my mouth was dry, my bladder was erupting, and my stomach was twisted in anguish. I looked over at Darren and he was sleeping silently. My body wobbled and I fell into the dresser and then I felt a sick gag come over me that made me run for the washroom.

The smell of coffee lured me out of the washroom and he was already dressed with a cup of coffee in his hand and a smoke hanging from his lips.

He smiled. "You should have another drink. You'd feel better."

"I'm so tired." I flopped back on the bed.

"You want a coffee?"

"Yeah."

"How do you take it?"

"Milk and sugar."

He gave me the coffee and reassured me the worst of the hangover was over. I sipped at the coffee hoping that it wasn't going to make me hurl.

"Take this." He handed me two Tylenols and a glass of water. "You'll feel better soon."

"What time is it?"

"Ten. I'll drive you home."

I held my head just wanting to go back to sleep but he passed me my clothes.

Outside the wind was even worse than last night and we huddled together in the car. Unfortunately, the car heater wouldn't work and the windows were steaming over, so he drove with the windows open.

"Will I see you again this weekend?" I asked.

"Not this weekend. I'm seeing my son. But I'll see you in school. Don't you forget about me."

He stopped the car in front of my place and it was beginning to rain. He grabbed my arm. "You won't forget about me?"

"No." I kissed his neck. "So I'll see you in school then?"

"That's right." He kissed me. "All right." He tapped my rear end. "You better go."

At home I was in trouble because Jeanie had called there looking for me and my parents wondered who had dropped me off. I told them I had spent the night at a party and there was no way I could get home because it wasn't a good idea to let a drunk drive me home. They grounded me anyway. Jeanie wasn't talking to me.

On Monday I sat in class and watched the doorway, waiting for Darren to pass by. It was hard sitting in class and waiting for him to pass by in his dark blue uniform with his sleeves rolled up. Then I thought about all my other classmates talking about sex while they were getting changed in the locker room and how you did it once and then you want it all the time. One of them exclaimed that it was better than chocolate.

We ran into each other at lunchtime and he nodded at me to follow him. I followed him toward my art class and then down the stairs into the dark basement, past the janitor's room and farther down the hall where everything seemed to be alive and buzzing.

He pushed me against the bumpy cement wall and felt me up as I wiggled out of my panties. My white panties tripped us and we tumbled onto the cement floor. I kicked off my penny loafers and then I noticed his hair was cut shorter. "You got a haircut?"

"Yeah, it was getting too long. What do you think?"

"I like it." I touched his hair. "It's nice."

"Ah, you're so sweet." He kissed me as he pulled out his cock and put it inside me.

Our relationship went on like this during school hours, and after school hours he'd drive me home or I'd end up at his place: drinking, laughing, and sharing my morning hangovers with him. We secretly planned to move in together after I graduated and that would be my life and it seemed perfect.

There was a thunderstorm on the day of my last exam, and it felt like summer was never going to come. It was just going to be a lot of mosquitoes and then back to the snow.

Underneath my umbrella I saw Darren's car pull up beside me and I rushed inside.

"You couldn't wait." I smiled at him.

He took a long drag on his smoke. "I have to talk to you. Have a smoke." He shoved a pack of cigarettes in my face.

"What about?"

He pulled in to a rundown strip mall and parked. "Vivian, I'm going back. I'm going back to my wife." I drew little circles on the steamy window because he hated it when I drew on the steamy windows.

"Vivian." He touched my thigh. "I'm sorry."

I swallowed my tears. "Yeah. Really?" I took one long exhausted suck on the smoke, feeling it burn my throat.

"Vivian?"

"Yeah? Yeah, I know you don't have to tell me anything more. I was just a good fuck at the time."

"Viv—"

"No, I know." He grabbed my arm. "Fuck off!" I twisted my arm out of his hand.

"Vivian?!"

"Just leave me!" I jumped out of the car and ran across the massive vacant parking lot with the rain drowning my clothes. A side cramp caused me to walk while the tears on my face disappeared underneath the rain.

I hated his wife and his kid. That's why they were getting back together: the kid.

His clunky car drove beside me. "Vivian."

"Leave me the fuck alone!"

"Get in the fucking car!"

"Fuck you! I'm not getting in the fucking car with you. We are fucking over, remember?" Then I remembered my stuff in his car. "I want my stuff. Give me my bag."

"Please."

"Fuck you!"

He got out of the car and grabbed me. I struggled in his arms but he shoved me inside the car. I sat there soaking wet, hoping underneath the madness that maybe he had changed his mind, because he wasn't meant for her, but for me.

Scared that I would take off, he held me tightly in his arms as we walked into his apartment. I stood in the married man's apartment, dripping and cold. He took off my skin-tight white shirt followed by my kilt. He hung them both over the shower rod. He sat me down on the bed and pulled off my drenched socks.

He dried me off gently with a towel and then he took my hair out of the ponytail and tried drying it as best as he could.

"You're gorgeous," he whispered into my ear, and I couldn't help but smile because I was half naked and safe on his bed. "You're beautiful," he whispered, this time kissing my neck. His prickly goatee made me shiver. I held him as close as I could as we screwed for the last time.

The glum morning came and my uniform was dry. I got dressed. I knew I would be grounded again for scaring my parents and I was positive that Jeanie wouldn't talk to me again.

While Darren was in the shower I stared at the picture of him and his son. I took off my black lace bra and tucked it underneath all his clean white shirts. I laughed to myself, thinking viciously that his wife would find it and throw him out and then he'd come back to me if I were lucky.

He stopped the car and turned down the radio.

"Come here."

I crawled onto his lap and pulled back the hair from his eyes, and we kissed with the minty gum going back and forth between us. I could feel his hard dick between my legs. "All right."

"So, Darren, I'll see you around." I grinned.

"Yeah, that you will."

I wanted to tell him that I would love him forever but I couldn't, so I thought about the bra. "Can I ask you something?"

"Yeah."

"What happens if it doesn't work?" I sighed. "Oh, fuck. Forget it. I'm sorry."

"I want you to remember something. If you're feeling lonely you know where to find me."

"Why are you fucking doing this if you don't want to?"

"You know why."

"Yeah, for your boy. You know it's not going to work with her. You told me that you're miserable with her. You want that for your boy? He's probably going to be fucked up from all the screaming."

"Don't ruin this."

"Right. Remember me nice and sweet, like the little girl you fucked."

"Come on, Viv." He placed his arm around me.

I glared out the window at my dark home where my single bed was waiting for me. "Viv? Vivian?" He pinched my face to his. "If it doesn't work, I'm back with you. I love you, all right? Come on, Viv."

The liquor was still overflowing in my brain, and like the girl I was, I told him, "I love you too."

"Everything is okay?" He kissed me through the words.

"Sure, yeah."

"I'll be around."

"Yeah."

He kissed me one last time.

• • •
November 16

THE SHARP sounds of somebody tramping up the broken stairs woke me up. It was the old lady who lived all the way on the fourth floor. Four flights of stairs, a banging shopping cart and then her cough that sounded like she was about to croak. I tossed the pillow off and took a couple of Tylenols to get rid of a headache that had no chance to get away.

The phone rang. I was hoping it was Damien because I needed and wanted to yell at him.

"Hello?"

"Vivian!" Marlo was many coffee cups ahead of me. "I was thinking about you last night. You got home okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I told her with the phone crushing my ear as I made coffee.

"Great. I was thinking that this weekend we should do a gallery hop. Damien Hirst is having a show."

"Him again?"

"You're an artist and you gotta see what's going on."

"Aw, shit." The coffee spilled onto my foot.

"What?"

"Nothing. I'm just trying to make coffee." I shook the coffee off.

"There are paintings in his show."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better, Marlo?"

"It should make you interested."

"Did you ever think that the titles are better than the work? I mean it's a freaking waste of time."

"Come on, don't be a dope."

"Marlo, I'm just getting into this new body of work."

"Oh, Vivian, we're going to go to other art shows too."

"I know that. Just that there's nothing right now I wanna see."

"Vivian, you're coming out. It's not going to hurt you."

"Last time I went out I felt so uninspired. I'd love to see some actual talent or something. I'm just so sick of reading an essay to tell me what the work is about. Who gives a fuck? I'd love to see someone who can actually paint and do something original and doesn't hide behind textual bullshit."

"Oh God."

"It's true. You even said that, remember? And video art just freaking sucks. I can see my life passing by me when I actually attempt to watch it."

"You're sure you're okay?"

I sighed as the coffee percolated. "Peachy."

"Yeah, you want me to come over?"

"I'm fine. I just need coffee. Where did you want to meet?"

"Where we always meet."

"Okay. But be on time."

"I'll be there on time."

"Yeah, sure." I breathed in the fresh coffee.

"Don't get there ten minutes early."

"Okay. Hey, I wanna see that Cindy Sherman show."

"That should be good. Are you having coffee?"

"I am," I told her. "We'll see the Fischl and Williams show too."

"Yep. I'm glad you want to go."

"You know, if you would have said somebody else."

"Oh God, Viv."

"Well, Marlo, I'm gonna go before I go on a rampage."

"Yep, Viv. Paint it out!"

## WOLSTON 1993

December 5

MY FANTASY of sold out red dots went on pause as Madeline stood there with her curls tied up and her brown eyes glowing at me. Behind her I could see her red Celica steaming next to a dirty brown snowbank.

"Hey, Madeline. How are you?"

"Freezing and way too much coffee." She unbuttoned her coat. "Should I take my shoes off?"

"No, it's okay. My studio is in the garage. Did you want anything to drink? Water?"

"Water, please. I love this part of Wolston, the old homes."

"Yeah, there are some really nice homes here. Where did you grow up?"

"Fort Bury along the river."

"That's nice."

"Yeah. Alex said you're from Fort Bury too?"

"Yeah. So you still live there?"

"Oh no. I live on the edge of where St. Maurice meets Mertle Park. The building I'm living in used to be a candy factory. It has gorgeous views of the city."

"That's pretty nice."

"You and Alex should come down."

"Yeah, we will."

"Wow," she said as she came into the garage. "So many." She looked at the little portraits. "I like them," she said as she peered back at me and gave me a pressed smile.

"Thanks."

"Do they have titles?"

"Most of them are untitled. Um, the smaller ones are Towel Head series one to eight."

"Do you have them written down?"

"Yeah, I do. Let me get it."

I searched my messy room and then I found the perforated printer paper resting on my diploma.

"Vivvy, careful, don't run down the stairs," my mom said as she stomped her winter boots on the bristle rug.

"Mom and Dad. I thought you were out shopping?"

"We got a new faucet. Whose car is that? Is it Madeline's?"

"Yes, she's in the studio."

"Make sure you shut off those heaters when you leave, okay?"

"Unless you're going to paint more tonight," my mom reminded me because she didn't want me to freeze to death.

"Alex's favourite is?" Madeline's finger raced down the page. "I see it. _Green Lady Resting on Toilet_." She pointed at the biggest painting. "Great. Okay, I see." Her finger raced over the titles. "Okay, I'll tell you what I was thinking for the grand opening. I would like to show that big one. I have this big wall at the back in the stairwell."

"There's a second floor?"

"Sort of. It's like balcony seats. But I have this big wall and it needs something big and this would work. I just hope it doesn't seem too Christmassy."

"Oh. What do you mean?"

"I'm painting the walls red. Red and your painting being green, you see?"

"Yeah. Although it's green, it's definitely not Mrs. Clause."

"Yeah." She laughed. "I get that. Okay, I'll take the big green one. And I'll tell you something else. I've picked out another local artist, Nancy Blekwell. I don't know if you've heard of her. She's a very talented painter and one of my friends has one of her paintings. She does these beautiful paintings of orchids and also gorgeous splashes of colour. What did she call them? Ah." She squeezed her temples. "I'm sorry, Vivian, I've had way too much coffee."

"Abstract? Impressionism?"

"No, she had a term for her own paintings. About celebrating. Ah, I forget. But I think they would look really lovely with your paintings. And tell me about those paintings." She pointed to the landscape paintings. "They weren't on the sheet."

"Yeah, those were just experiments. Did you want to see them?"

"Yeah, they totally caught my eye. What are these ones called?"

" _Untitled Backyard_."

"I should have guessed. I like them. You didn't want to show them?" She took a big gulp of water.

"Those were my first attempt at painting landscapes."

"Vivian, I really like those. They're beautiful. Very delicate. This might be weird but I think I would like to show the landscape ones if possible. How do you feel about that?"

"Really?"

"I haven't seen anything like this, but I like it. It just seems to call to me."

"Sure."

"Okay, let me break this down. I'm going to take six paintings in total. I'll take those three landscape paintings. And I'll take Alex's favourite and two little portraits. I think that would work. And I wanted to ask you if you wouldn't mind hanging the paintings? I definitely need somebody with an artistic eye."

"Yeah, sure, I'll do it."

"I have an idea where they should go, but we can arrange it all when the café is ready."

"That's totally fine."

"That brings me to the next question. What kind of prices did you have in mind?" She chewed on the pen.

"I really don't know." Then I quickly thought of the prices in the café. "Maybe three hundred for the big one and one hundred for the small ones."

"You've got to be kidding me. Look, this is what I'm going to do. The big painting we'll try at five hundred and then the smaller ones at three hundred. What do you think about that?"

"Okay."

"You shouldn't be hiding those landscape ones. Those are definite gems." She winked at me. "Seriously, Vivian, you should think about doing more of them. I think you could totally sell them. They have potential. So, hopefully, fingers crossed, expect a call for next weekend. I'm just trying to get this place open ASAP."

"Okay. Thanks, Madeline."

"Call me Maddy. Anyway, I should be thanking you. You're the artist." She looked at her watch.

There was a big bang that echoed throughout the house. "Jul, pail, now! Fudgefucker! Christfuckers!"

"What was that?" Madeline asked.

"My dad's putting in a new faucet."

"Oh. I'll call you, Viv."

After she left I went back to the studio to separate the paintings that she wanted from the others. I was so excited to show and sell my six paintings that the red dot fantasy actually seemed possible.

## NEW YORK 2000

A November Week

"VIV, BABE, I was just coming to get you," Eddie told me as he got off the barstool. "Your chair awaits, my lady." Eddie kissed me and his kiss made me blush like a schoolgirl.

Carl pointed his muddy finger at us. "Hee-hee!"

"What is it?" asked Eddie.

"You two, huh?"

"Yep, I know, so shut up old man. I'll buy you a drink if you can keep that giggle to yourself."

"No respect."

"You want it or not?"

"Yeah, yeah." Carl poked me in the ribs. "How are you doing?"

"Good. And what about you, Carl?"

"Pretty good. So, hey, you're Eddie's girl?"

"Here you go." Eddie passed him his drink. "I told you to shut up."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Look, old man, I told you before." He put his arm around me. "Carl, man, she's my girl so stop asking her about it, all right? Jesus. I got you a drink. And you're fucking talking about respect."

"Hey, Eddie, I want to make sure the young lady made a good choice." Carl hissed into laughter.

"Ha, ha, ha. Drink your drink."

We all took a gulp and sat there for a second transfixed by the bartender as he poured a beer.

"How's your granddaughter doing?"

"She's doing great except that piss fucker of a husband. I told her I would give her the inheritance now if she got a divorce. He better not hurt her." Carl's long pinky nail tapped his glass. "You see that finger. I tell you, that nail is tough. It's my buddy."

"Right, Carl, your picking buddy."

"Hey, my wife picked twice as hard as me. Fuck, everybody picks his nose but at least I don't flick."

"Or eat it, Carl?"

"That's right."

"Okay, that's enough. Apparently, Viv, he plays the guitar."

"Spanish!" Carl yelled at him.

"Jesus. Spanish. All right."

"I'm gonna take a piss."

"Hey, you wanna go to my place?"

"Still playing hide and seek, Eddie?" Carl wheezed.

"This is the last time I buy you a drink, old man."

"Sure it is."

"What are you, senile? Go take your piss already."

"Ugh, forget you. I'm gonna take a piss."

Up, up, up a few blocks and then down a couple of stairs into a basement suite and I was in Eddie's place. It was a dark cozy dump filled with furniture that had seen better days. The brown lazy boy chair was already stretched out and the teal flowery couch was slumping. The coffee table was speckled with water rings and a big TV balanced itself on a kitchen chair with the vinyl ripped away.

The living room faced a dark bedroom and a washroom, and at the very back of the apartment was the kitchen. It looked unused except the white fridge was covered in finger smudges.

His bedroom was dingy. The bed's quilt sagged onto the floor and the laundry pile sat on a broken chair with rolls of used socks underneath.

"What do you think? A nice dungeon?"

"You said it, Eddie."

"I'll get you a drink."

"Can I smoke?"

"Yeah. La mia casa e la tua casa." Eddie turned on a dusty-taped ghetto blaster that blared Fleetwood Mac's "Hypnotized."

"Do you have an ashtray?"

"Underneath the couch. I've also got some beers in the fridge."

"Oh." Eddie handed me my drink. "Thanks, Eddie." I took a sip and the strong liquor ripped through my throat.

"You wanna smoke?" he asked as he pulled out a shoebox from underneath the couch. He pulled out a small bag of weed. "It's good. I get it from a guy at work." Eddie pinched some weed into his pipe. "Ladies first."

I sucked back and then coughed out a smoky cloud.

"Now that is some good shit," he said as he exhaled a puff of smoke. "You know what?"

"What?"

He pointed above. "My brother and his family live up there and they still make me pay for this little shit-hole. You got any brothers or sisters?"

"A brother. He's older than me."

"You feel like you gotta live up to him?"

I shrugged my shoulders. I could feel the paranoia creeping into me: the couch's fabric pricked at me and it felt like it was eating me. Eddie's voice droned on.

"You're fucking lucky." His fingers touched my thigh. "You wanna know why?"

"Why?"

"Because you have no one to live up to, that's fucking why." Eddie took my smoke. "God, I miss this."

"I thought you quit."

"Well, I did, baby. But I always win a bet." He pulled his greasy brown hair away from his eyes.

"What are you talking about?"

"Paul is the biggest asshole I know. We made a bet. If I stop smoking for a year, I live rent-free. So I took the prick on." He took a long drag on the smoke. "It all started because I told him I was paying too much. I'm his brother and he should cut me some slack."

"Won't he smell the smoke?"

"Don't worry about that. You smoked." His eyes glinted at me. "I just can't smoke."

"I knew you were using me."

"Don't worry. I'm not using you for the smokes."

"Really?"

"You bet. Fuck."

"What?"

" 'Goodbye Stranger' by Supertramp." Eddie turned the volume up. "I saw them in '79. That was one of the best years of my life." He sang along. "You know, I have _Breakfast in America_ on CD."

"What's that?" I asked.

"What's that?" He poked at me.

I playfully poked him back. His big blue eyes bugged out at me and I liked it. "Does it come with eggs and bacon?"

"You've got to be kidding me. Supertramp? _Breakfast in America_?"

"Hey, in '79 I was, like, four. Is it like disco?"

Eddie laughed. "Fuck. Disco? You gotta be kidding me! _Breakfast in America_ is a genius record."

"I thought you said you had the CD?"

"I'm not that old. I'm thirty-six."

"I thought you were thirty-one?" I pulled the hair from his eyes so that I could admire them.

"Nope, I'm thirty-six. You wanna listen to Supertramp?"

"I don't know." I glanced at my empty glass.

"A drink?" He took my glass. "Why don't you spend the night?"

I smiled. "What's in it for me?"

"I'll give you a ride in the morning."

"You got your car back?"

"I wish. I'll give you a ride in the Lincoln."

"The Lincoln. I must be lucky."

"I'm the lucky one. I got you. Remember that," he told me as he pressed play on the ghetto blaster.

Our clothes were off, the sweet kisses turned into pants, and then our bodies collapsed with _Breakfast in America_ playing in the other room.

"Fuck, Viv, you're great. You're so fucking good." He gathered me in his arms. "You treat me like a king."

"Yeah, Eddie." I rolled off his chest. "I'm thirsty."

"Why don't you be a queen and get me a drink too." He slapped my thigh.

"I'm stealing a shirt."

"Baby, you've already stolen my heart."

My face was drowning in a pool of cooled salvia. I was awake and really needed to pee. I kicked off the sweaty blankets and made a run for the toilet as I could feel little warm spurts wetting my cotton panties.

My bum slammed onto the toilet seat and I took a long whiz in the dark. My fingers felt the wall for a light switch and then I remembered the light switch was on the outside wall.

A loud knock woke me up. "Viv, Viv."

"Hey?" I said, noticing that I had fallen asleep on the toilet and my legs were numb.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Viv, I need to use the can."

"Yep." I held onto the wall and shook my legs awake.

Eddie was already dressed in his work suit.

"Get ready. We gotta go."

My eyes scanned the dark apartment looking for the time and all I found was a clock flashing twelve as I rushed to get dressed.

"What time is it?" I asked.

"Around four thirty."

"Ugh." The last time I was up this early was to catch a plane for home. That was almost a year ago.

Outside my eyes strained to stay open and my body shivered uncontrollably next to Eddie.

"How far is the car?" I coughed.

"Up the street." Eddie rubbed his hands together.
November 17

MY STUDIO felt like a stranger to me. I flipped the paintings over and flinched at the painting disaster. It was a big yellow painting. I squinted at it to try and see something but the disaster I had tried to cover up still came through.

The other canvases were already primed and waiting for something, I just didn't know what. It was like my head was stuck to fly tape and all that was left of the fly was the buzzing wings.

Damien's voice bellowed over the answering machine. "Vivian, where are you? Call me back." He sounded like he was still pissed off.

I twirled my brush as my head repeated what an asshole Damien was and he wasn't going to ruin my day.

I unsuccessfully tried to paint Damien's masculine figure with black paint. Instead of a cock I gave the figure tits, and it didn't look too bad. But the yellow background was like a big directionless blob. Then on the floor I saw a small container of gold glitter. I sprinkled a little bit on the yellow background and then on the figure's side where the light was caressing her curvy body. The painting was okay.

## WOLSTON 1993

December 17

HOT CAFÉ's windows were steamy with blurry spots of people and the air was already rich with the coffee aroma. My eyes raced over all the paintings that I had put up and I was happy to see that they were still in place. Then I singled out my paintings and each table below them was occupied. I smiled to myself.

"Hey, is Maddy here?" Alex asked Jane as she took our order.

"She's in the back." She scratched her tangled dread head. "Did you want me to get her?" She passed Alex his change.

"Just tell her that Alex is here."

"Sure. You pick up your order over there."

We took our hot mochas and sat in the centre of the room.

"This is so wild. It's packed. Even the balcony seats are gone."

"Yeah, she really did a good job."

"What did she say about having a live DJ?"

"She decided not too. It's a café and people come here to talk. She's right."

"It's cool to have your music playing. Are you going to sell your CD here?"

"Maybe, I don't know. I need to get a real gig. Viv, I'm so sick of weddings."

"I thought Mike got you a weekly gig?"

"Yeah, apparently." Alex squeezed his brow. "Apparently I start when Mike comes back from Vancouver."

"What's Mike doing in Vancouver?"

"Visiting his cousin."

"Mike wouldn't lie to you about the weekly gig."

"Yeah." He blew on his mocha. "Viv, I'm just so tired of Jeff. He's up the whole fucking night. I gotta get him out of there. Hey, look, your mom and dad are here."

My mom gave me a kiss and my dad and Alex shook hands.

"Viv, they look beautiful."

"Yeah, okay, Mom."

"They're awesome." My dad gave me a hug. "Really nice."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Did you want to sit with us?" Alex asked them.

"No, you two enjoy yourselves. We're going to sit right over there. I'm just so proud of you, Vivvy." My mom gave me another hug and kiss. "Bye, you two. Oh, Vivvy, is that the dress?"

"Yes."

"Oh, you look darling."

"Jul, come on, leave the kids alone."

I took a gulp of my mocha and then Maddy stood at our table wearing a snug black dress and gold platform shoes with her curls all around.

"This is fantastic," I told her.

"Thanks. I know, it's pretty hot." She gave us a wink. "How are your mochas?"

"Yummy."

"Who are all these people?" Alex asked.

"Customers and I don't know them. Well, some of them I know but not all of them."

"What time do you close at?"

"I finally decided to try twelve. So we'll see how that goes. If it ends up being dead then I'll just close like every other café. Hey, Alex, did you bring your CDs in?"

"No, not yet."

"You promised."

"They'll be done for next week."

"Yeah, they better be." She winked at us. "I'll catch up with you two later." Maddy strutted over to another table.

"Are you coming home with me?" Alex asked.

"I thought about it." I smiled, taking a nice warm gulp.

"You're coming home with me."

"You want me to break my girls' night for a dine and dash with you?"

"Ha, ha, ha."

"Jeanie's mad at me again."

"She's always mad at you. Doesn't she have a boyfriend?"

"Yep."

"She'll get over it. Anyway, I was thinking about getting a new roommate."

"Really? Who?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Darling, it'd be so much easier if we lived together."

"You're really serious?"

"Deadly. Think about it."

My head shook as my eyes glanced up at my landscape painting. The snow seemed so scarce on the black twig. I swallowed the last of my mocha.

## NEW YORK 2000

November 18-19

MY HAIR and scarf went round and round and I burned my thumb as I lit a smoke on the windy 23rd Street corner.

"Vivian, it's fucking freezing. I bet you it's gonna snow. They say it's gonna be a bad winter. You weren't waiting too long?"

"Nope."

"Give me a smoke." She buttoned up her coat. "Uh, Billy. It's amazing what I do for him."

"Take this." I passed her my smoke. Like a good addict a moment of silence passed as she inhaled and then exhaled, looking at the smoke in wonder.

"Thanks. If he wasn't so fucking gorgeous and great in bed, I'd fucking dump him."

"You're gonna marry him?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe?" I smiled. "I'd love to see that wedding. No booze, no sugar, no meat. It'd be beans and more beans."

"Hey, he's not that bad."

"He's a vegan."

"Viv, I'm a vegetarian."

"You're a lot of things."

She punched me. "Wow, you're in a good mood. What's goin' on?"

"I met somebody."

"You're fast."

"Yeah, I'm not gonna cry over Damien. He's a fucking asshole."

"Who is he?"

"I didn't just meet him last night."

"You slut." She broke into her loud cackle laugh. "What's his name?"

"Eddie."

"Where'd you meet this Eddie?"

"At a bookstore."

"You in a bookstore? I don't believe it. What bar was it, Vivian?"

"A place of gathering."

"Yep. Well, you're gonna have to bring Eddie by the bar," she told me. "Fuck it. It's too cold." We rushed across the street as a taxi honked at us.

"We just started but there's something about him that's right. It's like I've known him before. We're so comfortable together."

"Oh, God. A past life? Don't get new-agey on me. I've tried yoga, and I don't like it."

"No, I don't mean that. He feels familiar. I just fit in with him. That's all."

"I hope it works out. I hope he drinks less than you."

"Yes, Mummy Dearest."

"Billy wants me to come up to his family's place for Thanksgiving."

"You're gonna go?"

"I don't know. I don't want to leave you alone."

"I'll be fine. I'm sure I won't be alone."

"He must be something."

"I think he is."

"I'm kind of afraid, you know. I feel like he's gonna ask me."

"I thought you wanted to get married?"

"I do."

"We'll go to the Sherman show first?"

"Yep."

After the gallery hop and a few drinks, I went back to the studio.

The glitter painting wasn't awful; it was just sort of nice. But that's all it was. So I tossed the glitter in the closet.

I decided to paint the next canvas a dark Prussian blue with a white silhouette. The figure was a slouching female with saggy breasts. Her hips were wide and her hands were planted on her waist. Her white flesh was gooey and voluptuous. Her face was flimsy with dark eyes and a slit of a mouth, but her hair was prom queen. She was just like one of those McDonalds' senior ladies on 9th Street. The wrinkly faces would sit together chatting and holding scalding cups of coffee while giving everyone dirty looks when they came in. But their hair was a perfect beehive—it was fit for a crown.

I sat in the fumes of the oil paint, mesmerized by the white figure. I was happy with this painting. It was one of those ugly nice ones.

A knock at my door shook me out of a long stare that left my glass empty and my smoke burned out.

"Hey," Eddie said.

"Don't hug me. I got paint on me." I pushed him away.

"I can't wait to see your paintings." He rushed to the kitchen to get himself a drink. "I'm sorry I'm late."

"That's fine."

"I went to Leo's. He's a buddy of mine. We go way back. He gave me his old TV. Viv, I told him all about you."

"Oh."

"Babe, there's only a drop."

"There's a beer in the fridge," I shouted as I changed out of my painting clothes. "I'll go to the store. I've got to get more smokes."

There was another knock and then the door opened. It was Damien. His baseball cap shadowed eyes looked into mine.

"Hey."

"Hey."

"Can you get some chips?" Eddie shouted from the kitchen.

"Vivian, what's going on?" Damien asked.

"I'm going out," I told him as I grabbed my wallet.

"Who's that?"

"That's Eddie." I played with the change in my pocket. "I've got to get going. You've got to go." I tried to shove him out, but Damien blocked the door.

"You need your coat, Vivian," he reminded me.

"I'm okay." Damien pushed me back in and then he noticed Eddie coming out of the kitchen.

"Eddie, right? I didn't know Vivian had an uncle out here."

"What are you? You're her brother?" Eddie snorted back.

"Eddie, I'll be back."

"Viv, is every—"

"Shut the fuck up, old man."

I pushed Damien away because I didn't want to see him hurt Eddie.

"Who is this guy?"

"He's nobody, Eddie. Forget him."

"Fuck you!" Damien walked off into the bedroom. "Fuckin' slut!"

"What the fuck is he doing? Viv?" Eddie held onto me.

"Eddie, it's okay. He'll be gone. Hey, do you think you could go to the store for me?" I handed him the money.

"Yeah, sure. But I don't want to leave you alone."

"Just go. He'll be gone."

"You'll be okay?" Eddie asked as he picked up his jacket.

"Yeah, he's a pussy cat."

"Viv, are you sure?"

"Yeah, just go. I'll be okay."

Eddie left me and I watched as Damien spilled my dirty laundry sack onto the bed.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I asked him. "Put it back, and get the fuck out!"

"I left a shirt here. What did you fuckin' do with it?"

"That's all my stuff."

"Where the fuck is it?"

"I don't have it."

"Is it in there?"

"No. What does it look like?"

"A fuckin' black T-shirt."

"Fuck, Damien. I don't have it."

I lit my last smoke and hoped Damien would be gone before Eddie got back.

"Damien?" I grabbed his arm. "Damien?"

"I could fuckin' kill you!"

"I don't have your fucking shirt. You're a fucking asshole, you know that?" He squeezed my throat.

"What the fuck?"

"What?"

"You're fuckin' him? He's a fuckin' old man."

"What's it to you? You were fucking that blonde. Do I really have to remind you?"

"Remind me what? What a fuckin' slut you are?"

"We're fucking over, that's what. You dumb fucking prick."

"You know you fuckin' scarred me."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"When you burned me."

"Oh, fuck. Did you tell your mother about it?"

"Maybe we should see if you fuckin' like it. What do you think?" He took my smoke and waved it over my face.

"You sick fuck!" I spat at him and it fell on his shoe.

He squeezed my throat just enough to make me gag.

"You make it so fuckin' hard for yourself."

"You're the one who fucked it up. You fucked us up!"

"You make it so hard to fuckin' love you."

"Go!"

"You want me to go?" He took his hands off me. "I want you to fuckin' think about something. Your fuckin' old man doesn't even stay around to fuckin' save you. The fuckin' old prick couldn't give a fuck about you, Vivian."

"Fuck you!"

"At a bar. The fuckin' prick probably waited till you were drunk enough to approach. He's a fuckin' old man. And he doesn't fuckin' care about you. Vivian, you're just a fuck to him. Is that what you want to be? Just a fuck? Just a fuckin' slut?"

"Fuck you! I fucking hate you!"

"Think about it, Vivian. If he cared for you in any way, he would have stayed. I want you to fuckin' think about that. Think about it, Vivian."

"You know what I think about? What a fucking asshole you are!"

"He'll never fuckin' love you the way I did, you fuckin' remember that when he's too soft to fuck you."

"Fuck off!" I pushed him away. "Go!"

"Remember that, Vivian." He grabbed my chin. "Okay, Vivian?"

"Fuck you!"

"Why do you have to make it so fuckin' hard?"

We stood there looking at each other with the smell of a smoke burning somewhere.

"Are you gonna go or what?"

"Fuck you, you fuckin' slut!"

He slammed the door behind him and I stood there for a second feeling like something was missing from our breakup and then I remembered my key.

"Damien? Damien! Damien, give me my key back!"

"Her name is Julie." He chucked the key at me.

"Tell her I say hi." I threw my key at him hoping that I would scar his face forever. Instead the key fell short, and he grunted out a laugh.

"You fuckin' sad slut!"

"Fuck you!"

I locked the door behind me. A whiff of the garbage from below stung my nostrils and made my eyes water.

"Hey, is everything all right?" Eddie asked. "Is this your key?"

"Yeah." I flashed a smile at him as I picked up the burning smoke.

"Your ex is a real asshole. I'll get you a drink."

"Yep, thanks."

I slept at Eddie's place because he was worried that Damien might come back and hurt me. I was more worried that Damien would come back and hurt Eddie.

I woke up to someone banging on the front door. It sounded like the cops as a man shouted for Eddie.

"Eddie? Eddie somebody's at your door."

"Fuck," Eddie drawled as he rolled on his back.

"Who is it?" I clutched the sheet over my head and grabbed his pillow.

"My brother, Paul," Eddie said as he hobbled into his pants.

"What does he want?"

"Who the fuck knows."

Eddie walked to the door, and I reluctantly got dressed.

"I'm awake, you fucking asshole!" Eddie shouted.

"What the fuck were you doing in there?"

"Sleeping. I was fucking sleeping. What'd you want?"

"Marla wants to know if you're coming to dinner?"

"Yeah."

"She wants to know if Viv, your very young friend, is coming?"

"I'll ask her."

"She's here, isn't she?"

"Paul."

"You dog. You're a fucking animal. Let me ask her?"

"I'll ask her. What's Marla making?"

"Lasagna."

"Why the fuck she's gotta know now?"

"Duh, dinner rolls. You better ask her, or I'll fucking do it."

"Viv, you wanna come to dinner?"

"Sure," I yelled as I sat on the bed.

"Dinner's at six!" Paul shouted.

"Get the fuck out!"

"Don't fucking shove me!" The door banged open.

"Paul, get the fuck off him! We're going to be late! Jesus, Paul!" a woman shouted.

"You're lucky."

"You're a fucking prick!"

"Paul, now!"

Eddie laughed. "Hey, Paul. I guess Marla has you pussy whipped!"
November 19

Dinner

PAUL'S APARTMENT smelled like garlic and cheese and was oven warm.

"We're here!" Eddie shouted.

Marla's dark eyes passed onto me and she smiled as she touched her diamond stud earrings.

"I'm Marla."

"Viv." I shook her stubby manicured hand with the gold diamond bracelet twinkling. "Paul, Eddie and Viv are here."

"I'm in here." I followed Eddie into the living room and Paul was enjoying a beer and eating cheesy nachos as he watched the baseball game.

"God, Paul, you're such a freaking pig. That's for our guests." Marla grabbed the bowl and then turned down the TV's volume.

"When's Eddie ever a guest?"

Marla placed her arm around me. "Here's Viv." She presented me to Paul. Paul was wearing a Nike tracksuit and he had a thick gold chain around his neck that got lost in his chest hairs. Him and Eddie looked nothing like brothers. Paul was like a tank and he wasn't going anywhere. The only thing that they shared was their blue eyes, but Paul's were meaner. He had no problem staring at me for a long time before he remembered his name.

"Paul. I'm the cute one." He winked at me.

"God, Paul."

"I really thought Eddie made you up."

"Paul." Marla hit him against the head. "Please try to be freaking nice." He picked up Marla's hand and kissed one of her rings.

"Sorry, your high ass."

"You're a freaking clown, Paul."

"We need more nachos and what about that salsa?"

"We're out of salsa?"

"You just went to the store."

"I forgot."

"More nachos."

"We're eating soon. Viv. Please sit down and relax." She pushed me toward the green couch that had huge paisley cushions with stiff gold tassels.

"Where did you meet Eddie?" He took a long hard swallow of beer.

"At the library."

Paul choked on his beer. "That's good."

"What's good?" asked Eddie as he sat beside me.

"Viv was saying that she met you at the library."

"That's right. We checked out the same book."

"Yeah, that's a great freaking story. Where did you two really meet? Did you drive her?"

"At a bar," I told him.

"I don't think I've ever seen Eddie read before."

"Hey, Paul, what happened to the leather couch? When did you become a paisley lover?"

"I didn't even know it was paisley, fag."

Marla came in. "Dinner's ready."

"Kids!" Paul screamed.

They went running past us to fetch their seats. And in the distance a set of whiny voices cried.

"Marla, the twins."

"I hear them, Paul." She gave him an ugly look.

I sat beside Eddie and on the other side there were three kids staring at us. All three of them grinned and the oldest sat in the centre and whispered into her sister's ear. They both giggled, and then the little boy tugged at his sister's sleeve. "What'd you say?"

"I don't talk to homos."

"Hey. Stop it."

"Yes, Daddy."

"Kids, this is Viv. Viv, this is Sophia, Crystal, and Tommy. Kids, say hi."

They said hi and Sophia stuck out her tongue.

Crystal pulled on her daddy's sleeve. "Daddy, Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

"Are Viv and Uncle Eddie fucking?"

Sophia giggled and I tried to hide my laughter. Uncle Eddie grinned as Paul's face became a bright red.

"Crystal, who told you to say that?"

Paul glared at Sophia who turned away and looked at Crystal.

"Sophia did, Daddy."

"I didn't, Daddy," she pleaded as she gave Crystal a good punch in the arm.

"OW! Daddy, she hit me!" sniveled Crystal.

"Sophia!"

"Sh! Keep it down! They're sleeping! Jesus, Paul!"

"Marla, Crystal said the 'F' word because Sophia told her to do it."

"Sophia, I warned you before. No ice cream and now no TV after dinner."

"Mommy, Daddy says it all the time."

"Sophia, stop it. You are not allowed to say that word. You say it one more time and you won't have the TV for a week. And maybe I should do what Granny suggested and wash your mouth out with soap."

"Mom, why doesn't Crystal get punished? She's the one that said it. I didn't even say it."

"Sophia, stop it! I'm not gonna tell you again."

"I'm sorry, Mommy."

"Where's the wine?" Eddie asked, already getting up.

"On the counter," Marla replied.

Paul dug into his food as Eddie poured the wine.

"Viv, you're from Canada?" asked Marla.

"Yeah, I've been here for a while."

"It's beautiful there. Toronto is so clean. I have family in Toronto. They love it. But I've always wanted to go to Montreal. I've heard it's the Paris of America."

"You don't even speak French," Paul commented as he shoveled a forkful of food into his mouth.

"So?"

"Viv, how long have you two known each other for?" Paul asked.

"About a month," Eddie responded, narrowing his eyes at his brother.

"What do you think of New York?" Marla put a piece of dinner roll into her mouth.

"I like it."

"Eddie was saying you're a painter."

"Yeah, I paint."

"Does Eddie have a painting?"

"I wish. She hasn't even shown me any of her work."

"Why?"

"They're at the bar."

"Bar?"

"On Ludlow, called Loco."

"Ah. Loco. Crazy. I like it."

"You sell any?" Paul asked.

"Yeah. I just started working on a new show."

"Wow. Not bad. Eddie didn't say you were successful."

"My cousin Lenny is an artist. He lives up in Woodstock," added Marla.

"He tries to paint is more like it. Marla and the kids went up there to visit him last summer. He's one of Marla's fruity relatives."

"What are you, in grade school still?" She took a sip of wine. "He does abstract."

"Is that what you call it. I thought he just didn't know how to paint. Freaking lines, circles all over the place."

"It's up in the hallway. I think it's pretty. Lots of colour."

"You know, the kind of art I like is when it looks like something."

"Yeah, the kind of art you like is pinups. When I first met him he took me back to his place. His room was like a regular altar of naked women."

"Come on, Marla, it was just Farrah. Everybody loves Farrah."

"What about those bums?"

"Buns in the sun. That's innocent. That was a gift from the guys," Paul pleaded with Marla.

"I can't wait to have you in bed," I whispered to Eddie.

"Guys, we're going to go!" Eddie shouted at them and they continued on arguing.

## WOLSTON 1993

December

CHRISTMAS WAS close to arriving and there had been a little interest in my work but no one was buying. Madeline reassured me that people were really into the landscapes. It made me feel better that I was being considered, but I couldn't help feeling a little left out when Nancy Blekwell's paintings all had red dots.

At Hot Café we took a seat underneath one of Blekwell's chunky oil paintings of a vase with pink orchids. The background was a dirty yellow with the occasional flick of black and it almost seemed like the paintings had dirt on them.

"What do you think?" Alex asked me.

I spooned a wallop of whipping cream in my mouth. "About what?"

"Should I do it?"

"Yeah, you should do it," I said to Alex.

"Yeah, I definitely will."

"Alex?" a woman hollered out. She looked a lot like Maddy but she was sparkly.

"Marlo." Alex gave her a hug.

"When are you gonna visit me?" she asked. She was Maddy's sister. The curly hair, the curvy figure, and even the way she talked was like Maddy except Marlo was loud and you couldn't take your eyes off of her.

"I plan on it."

"You better, damn it." She laughed.

Marlo looked at me and then I noticed her glittery makeup. "Marlo, this is Vivian."

"Vivian." Marlo winked at Alex. "I've heard so much about you."

"Vivian has her art up."

"I know. Maddy was pointing her out and I love your paintings. My fav is the _Green Lady Resting on Toilet_. It is so beautiful. So intense."

"Thanks."

"You're going to art school?" Marlo asked as she rubbed her sparkly nose.

"No, but Maddy told me you studied art in New York."

"Yeah. That feels like a lifetime ago. They fucked me up, the bastards. I can't even pick up a paintbrush anymore."

"You still live out there?" Alex asked.

"Ugh." She gave him a punch. "New York, I love. I love it so much I stayed. Ugh."

"What?"

"My evil sister wants me."

"Marlo, are you going to see some of your old boyfriends?" Alex asked.

"I wouldn't know where to begin." She laughed. "You two are going to Maddy's Christmas party?"

"Yeah."

"I'll see you two there."

"She seems like a lot of fun," I commented as I watched Marlo disappear with Maddy.

"Maddy calls it trouble."

"Are they American?"

"No. Marlo was born in the States but her parents are Canadian. So Marlo has dual citizenship."

"She's lucky."

Alex grunted into a laugh.

"What?"

"Marlo has more unfinished degrees than anybody but she actually finished her art degree. Now she's thinking about opening a bar."

"It's pretty cool she lives in New York. I'd love to go there."

"Yeah, that would be pretty cool." Alex attempted to imitate my voice but it sounded more like a squeal.

"I don't squeal."

"Not now." He laughed.

"You're gross." I kicked him under the table.

"Ouch!"

## NEW YORK 2000

Before Thanksgiving

"YOU SMELL good. Is that pumpkin pie?" I asked Marlo as she passed me the pie.

"Yep. Oh, Viv, I feel so bad."

"Don't worry about it. I told you Eddie and his family invited me down."

"Okay, okay. I smell coffee?"

"Yep. Do you notice anything else?"

She looked around. "Oh, my God, you cleaned. It smells like coffee and Pine-Sol."

"I thought you'd appreciate it."

"So, Vivvy, when are you gonna bring him down?"

"Soon."

"You better."

"I'll bring you a coffee."

"I'm going to the studio," she told me.

"You know, I do like it. It's very different. It's really moody. It's good the way the figures are so bleak. I had an idea." She took a sip. "I still get people talking about the _Golden Nip_. I mean it's a fabulous piece and it's still creating a stir. Viv, that's got to be great feedback."

"Yeah."

"I want to have your work up for the holidays. I know it's late to be telling you. And this work is great too. That glitter on the yellow one really makes the piece. I know you hate this, but I have an idea. You know glitter is perfect for New Year's and Christmas. But these dark moody paintings I want to show later. For the holidays let's keep it light, sexy, and glitz. I really like this new porno direction."

"Okay."

"That last show was fantastic."

"So you want some porn with glitter?"

"Exactly. Look, I don't want to tell you what to paint. I just thought that in the last show you were going somewhere, and that yellow one is beautiful with the glitter."

"Okay, I think I got it."

"Look, Viv, I just thought—"

"I get it. For the holidays you're looking for some fun with the glitter."

"Did you wanna do that? Look, don't get me wrong. I love these pieces and we will show them—I just thought the glitter? Holidays?"

"Okay, yeah, I'll do the show with lots of glitter and sex until you get sick of it. How's that?"

"Great." She took a big sip of coffee. "I feel bad."

"Well, you should," I told her, taking a cigarette and hating the fact that I had to find the glitter.

"Viv—"

"I'm fine with it, Marlo. You don't have to go on about it."

"I just want you to know that I love this new body of work, and I wouldn't just say that."

"I know. I don't have a problem."

"I'm stealing a cigarette."

"You're having a hard time?" I pouted at her.

"Yes, and Billy doesn't know. I'm spending a whole weekend with his family for Thanksgiving and I gotta be good. That's hard work."

"Who's taking care of the bar?"

"Ricco."

"How's Billy's acting coming?"

"He tries out for parts. I just hope one day he gets a call back. Billy can get so depressed and I hope he gets a break even if it is a small part. He has the talent, the good looks. What else does he need? His friends have been telling him to go to L.A. I'm not going to go to L.A. I visited it once and that's enough for me."

"Where does his family live? Wasn't it Vermont?"

"Maine. I should tell you this. He might be going to L.A. in the new year."

"Does he want you to go?"

"Yeah, he did, but he has a friend out there and they're gonna live together."

"You're gonna be in a long-distance relationship?"

"I don't know. Billy wants to. I just can't see myself doing it. I've always been a hands-on kind of person, you know? Ah, Viv, I just don't know. We'll see, but I did tell him that we would. I just don't know about me. It's like these cigarettes, I quit for three months but they always find a way back."

"Did you want some pie?"

"I won't say no."
Thanksgiving

MY THANKSGIVING started with me and Eddie stuck in a snoozing traffic line to pick up his mother at her retirement home in Bay Ridge. Eddie kept trying to sneak his way into a faster lane only to be cursed with a honk and stuck again.

"I'm freezing." I turned up the heat.

"Fuck, we're late." He punched the horn. "Jesus, move it! Ah, fuck." Eddie lit a smoke. "You look nice." He squeezed my knee as he tried to relax.

"Thanks. It's so cold."

"I thought you said you were from Canada?"

"Ha, ha, ha."

The light turned green and the traffic stood still with a lot of noisy car horns, and then we heard the deafening sirens.

"Aw, fuck. Something happened. Jesus."

The traffic plodded along with the rhythm of stop and go, stop and go. Then the swoosh of the elliptic lights flared onto the shiny cars and the grey sky. The paramedics wheeled a victim into the ambulance. Then we passed a hysterical woman with a paramedic and a cop standing by to assist her. Her big clear plastic-rimmed glasses mirrored the menacing red and white lights.

"Fuck, that's sad." Eddie swallowed hard.

"I hope they're okay."

"What a Thanksgiving. It was probably somebody's grandparent. It always happens here. You'd think they'd do something about it. I couldn't even cross that road without running. That's fucking screwy."

"It's horrible. I saw on the news some older woman got hit on the Boulevard of Death."

The ambulance streaked by us.

"That one's bad too."

The retirement home reeked of rubbing alcohol but then came the eager smell of turkey and pumpkin pie, which made me hungry. The place was empty with only one receptionist and some gaily dancing turkey cutouts scattered along the walls. The reception desk was also decorated with a festive Thanksgiving sign and an old stale plastic bouquet of flowers with a fake red candle flickering in the centre.

The receptionist had her hair firmly tied back, which showed her polished brow. Her bifocals pinched the tip of her long nose as she looked up from her crossword.

"Hi. Happy Thanksgiving. How can I help you?"

"We're picking up, Mrs. Scozzari," Eddie said as he signed us in.

"Okay." She pushed the glasses up onto the bridge of her nose.

Eddie held my hand as we walked through the rosy-painted hallway, which had a permanent collection of watercolour paintings of sunsets, flowers, and colourful docked sailboats.

Mrs. Scozzari's room was dark. She was looking outside to the dusky neighbourhood as she fluffed out her perm.

"Ma," Eddie said.

"Edwin." Eddie hugged her as her gold wrists shone. "How are you?" she asked as she examined him. "You could eat more. Let me check your wrists."

"Ma, come on. We gotta go."

"Edwin, let me see."

She measured his wrist with her fingers. "My baby, Eddie, you've gotta eat more. Lay off the booze. More meat."

"Yep. Mom, I want you to meet Vivian."

I stood there in the hallway with the coat rack jabbing my shoulder.

Her sharp eyebrows bunched together. "Vivian? Vivian who?" she asked, turning on a little lamp that lit her maroon hair and sparkly sweater. "I need a light on. They keep it so dark in here I bump into everything. I've got bruises to show you. I feel like a schoolgirl. My hips are black and blue. That's something about your father that I loved, he always knew how to take care of me. He always kept the lights on."

I switched on the hallway light but it still felt dark in the tiny room.

"Well, that's better."

"Mom, this is Vivian. I told you about her, remember?"

"Vivian." She put her glasses on. "My sister?"

"No. I was telling you I met a girl. This is my girlfriend."

"Oh, you mean your girlfriend?"

"Yeah."

"Hi, Vivian, I'm Eva. Oh, you're so cold." She rubbed my hands. "I always have hot hands." She rubbed the other hand. "You're freezing."

"I'm okay."

"If my arthritis wasn't so bad I'd knit you some mittens."

"Ma, you're ready to go?"

"Yeah. Vivian, I think you'll feel better once you have turkey. I know I will. I'm starving."

"Ma, we should get going."

"Eddie, dear, put some candies in my purse." She watched Eddie grab a bunch of candy. "Another handful, you know how they are."

"You've got all your pills?"

"Yeah, yeah. Vivian, dear, can you pass me my coat?"

Eddie took the coat from me and helped his mother put it on.

"What do you think of my hair?" She smiled as her dark red nails touched her tight curls. "The girls did it. They're so nice here and they helped me pick out this sweater. It's cashmere."

"It's gorgeous, Eva."

She smiled at me. "Thank you, Vivian."

"Yeah, you look great," Eddie told her.

"Edwin, you've got my purse?" Eddie handed her her purse. "Vivian, that's a pretty name. That's my sister's name."

"Thanks."

"Ma, give me your keys."

"Why?"

"I gotta lock the door."

"Oh, they're in my purse."

Eddie took the keys out of her purse and locked the door.

"How did you two meet?"

"We met at a bar."

"A bar?" She looked at Eddie and then me with horrified eyes. "You're so young, Vivian."

"Ma."

"I met Eddie's father at a bar."

"I thought he fixed your car?"

"That's right, he fixed my car. But he whatchamacallit? He picked me up at the bar when I was out with my girlfriends."

"Ma, I thought you said Dad was a gentleman."

"He was perfect. God knows I miss him."

"I know, Ma. I miss him too."

"Edwin, I told you to stop going there. You wanna end up like your uncle? What a freaking mess." She held my arm. "Nothing good comes out of drinking. Paul told me you met her while on the job. That she was a customer."

"It was after work." He helped her inside the car.

"You boys."

"Paul told you that, Ma. I didn't tell him to say that."

"You boys might think I'm losing my mind." She tapped her temple. "But I know who and how my sons are. It smells like smoke." She rummaged through the glove compartment.

"What are you looking for?" asked Eddie.

"Cigarettes. And don't say you haven't got any because I can smell it on the both of yous."

"I quit, but Vivian's got some."

"Yeah, you quit. That'll be the day." I gave her one. "Thanks, dear. You're a lifesaver. Edwin, whose car is this?"

"It's one of Paul's service cars."

"Lincoln is a nice car, but I still prefer a caddy. Where's your car?"

"I thought this would be more comfortable."

"Did you get rid of it?"

"No, it's getting fixed."

"Get rid of it. It's a pile of shit. It rumbles and you feel every bump on the road. I don't even know why you keep it."

"Yep."

"You never listen to me."

"Nope."

"Ah." She waved him off. "Your father smoked all day and night," she chuckled. "When I first met him I was smoking menthols. He thought that was so disgusting. He made me switch. Oh, Bruno was a fantastic mechanic and he could fix anything. God knows I miss him, Vivian. You want to know what he died of?"

"Mom, he died of a heart attack."

"Shut up, I'm telling her the story. I was there, not you, Edwin, honey. He did die of a heart attack because he loved to eat. It was my own cooking that did him in."

"Mom, it wasn't your cooking. He ate everything that was bad for him."

"It was the last meal."

"Ma?"

"Oh, I cooked him a beautiful roast. It was Sunday and I made his favourite pie: apple with double cinnamon. Bruno always had to have a second helping. That night he died and it was my last meal. I didn't cook after that. How could I? Even staying in that house, I couldn't. It was me and Bruno. Never just me. So I told my boys, I'm going to a home."

"You could have went to Florida."

"No, not by myself."

"Your sister is out there."

"You boys are my world."

Eddie blared the horn. "Fucking asshole! He pulled right out in front of me! Jesus!" He swerved into the next lane. "Sorry, Ma. You're okay, Ma?"

"Don't worry about me. I'm tough as nails. Honey, you shouldn't use Jesus' name in vain. Remember, he gave you room to breath."

"Sorry."

Eddie looked like a wreck as he bumper parked the car. Paul stood in the doorway grinning.

"Ma."

"Paulie." She gave him a big hug and patted his big stomach. "You're eating too much."

"I went to the doctor and he said I was fine. He said I have good cholesterol and plenty of it."

"What's with the turtleneck?" Eddie smirked as Paul straightened out his black ribbed turtleneck sweater. "You look like a homo."

"I think he looks adorable," Eva said as she pinched his cheek. "Where's Marla?"

"She's getting dressed. Marla picked this out for me." Eddie handed Paul his mother's coat. "Ma, your hair is very purple."

"Are you blind?" she snarled at him.

"What? It's purple. It's nice."

"Purple? I ought to smack you."

"I'll get the drinks," volunteered Eddie as he clapped his hands together. "Ma, you want a ginger ale?"

"Yeah. I'm starving."

"Hey, Paul, homo, you want a cocktail?" Eddie cracked up.

"Shut it," he grunted at Eddie. "Get me a beer."

"With an umbrella?"

Marla came in. "Mom."

"Marla, the turkey smells lovely."

The turkey was wrapped in foil and sat on the stove with the rest of the steaming pots and pans.

"Fuck," Eddie said as he took his first sip of beer. "It's so fucking refreshing. What are you smiling at?"

"Nothing. I'm doing real good."

"I can see that."

"You're driving."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't remind me." He grabbed a beer.

On Thanksgiving the bar was dead with only two other people. They sat underneath a big ugly abstract painting. The painting was painted with an overwhelming amount of black paint and had pieces of newspaper stuck to it.

"I'm happy you came to dinner. I'm happy that you met my mother."

"I had fun." I stroked the hair away from his blue eyes.

"I've been thinking." He grabbed my hand.

"What were you thinking about, Eddie?" I playfully kissed his cheek, enjoying the prick from his stubble.

"What about living together? I'll move in with you."

I sucked my drink dry because I was hoping to hear a pick-up line.

"So what do you think?" Eddie gave me his crooked smile.

"My place is so small and the other room is my studio." I tried to straw-stab the melting ice cubes. "Plus, we just really met," I mumbled.

"What? I think it's a good idea." Eddie eyed the bartender for two more.

"I work at night."

"I'm with you at night."

"Yeah, but sometimes I work at night."

"Don't you think it's a good idea?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know? I just thought it was a good idea. We spend a lot of time together. I thought why am I paying for a place and you're paying too."

"I'll think about it."

"I don't get you, Viv."

"Eddie, I'm working on a big show right now. I don't, I can't deal with the thought of moving in. I don't have the time. I'm under a lot of pressure." I was trying really hard to make it seem like there was a hope of possibility because I didn't want to lose him. "New year. The new year looks good. Maybe in the new year."

"Viv, I'd move in with you. There's no work. Babe, you wouldn't even have to lift a finger."

"Eddie, look, I like it the way it is." I touched his shoulder.

"Okay. I won't bother you about it anymore."

Shoulder to shoulder with our hands on our drinks and both of us looking across the bar at nothing. I was trying to find words that would put a smile on his face, so that I could go back to enjoying my drink.

"I like your place."

"Yeah." He lit a smoke. "You should tell Paul that."

The liquor that made me so relaxed before was turning sour and I could feel a screaming fest boiling inside me. Instead I gulped my drink down and yanked on my coat as I saw another painting monstrosity: red paint squeezed out and left to dry on top of shiny newspaper.

"Where're you goin'?"

"I gotta go. I gotta get out of here."

He watched me wrap the scarf around my neck.

"You're gonna hang yourself with that thing."

"I'm goin' home, Eddie."

"Great. What do you want me to do about it?"

"Pass me my smokes."

"Here you go." He tossed them at me and they fell to the floor. "Whoops."

"Thanks, asshole." I picked them up and then he got up. "You're not coming home with me."

"I'm goin' to my home and you're goin' to your home. That's what you want."

Outside I tried hard to get away from him but he grabbed my elbow. "Wait, Viv."

"Eddie." My body stood there with the cold wind nipping at my nylon-thin legs. "I don't want to fight with you."

"Viv, I don't want to lose you."

"Yeah?"

"Viv, I just thought moving in together would be the next step. That's it. I mean, if you don't want to do that, that's fine."

"You know, I want to live with you too. But I'm scared. I don't want us to crash and burn." Unluckily, I stepped into an ankle-deep puddle. "Shit! Eddie, I love you too much."

"Good. We'll take it slow."

"You'll come home with me?"

"Baby, I'll do whatever you want."
November 28

ETHAN'S VOICE on the answering machine woke me up. He kept shouting "pick up." It was like he knew his baby sister was asleep in the middle of the afternoon. The phone rang again.

"Hello?" I drawled out knowing it was Ethan on the other end.

"Viv, are you awake?"

"Yes," I hissed.

"What time is it there? Is it, like, one o'clock?"

I rubbed my eyeballs. "It's two. Are you back home?"

"Nope, I'm in Vancouver."

"Mom said you moved in with Miki?"

"Yep. Mom said you weren't coming back for the holidays. Are you sure you can't come back?"

"No, not this year."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to have Christmas with Eddie's family."

"Who's Eddie?"

"My boyfriend. You know, I'll make it up next year. I'm just swamped with everything."

"How are your paintings doing? Selling lots?"

"Yeah, and I'm trying to finish this show for the holidays."

"I'd like to see you."

"Eth, I don't see what the big deal is. I've been there for every other Christmas."

"Viv, I'm bringing Miki home for the holidays."

"Isn't her family in Vancouver?"

"Yeah, and we're engaged."

"Finally. Is that what Miki said to you?"

"Ha, ha, ha."

"Congratulations. You told Mom and Dad yet?"

"Yes. You're definitely not coming back?"

"No, I can't this year. It sucks. Now I wanna come home."

"You want me to pay?"

"Ethan, stop it. I just can't."

"Who's this Eddie?"

"My boyfriend." I was hoping he didn't ask too many questions. "He works for a car service. Actually, his brother owns it. His family is pretty nice. They had me over for Thanksgiving."

"Wow, look at you. You're no longer just dating."

"No, big brother. So is Miki pregnant?"

Ethan laughed. "No. You're crazy."

"Yeah, that's right. Why don't you two come out here?"

"Maybe, actually, we might come out in the spring."

"Good."

"Then I can meet Eddie."

"That's right."

"How old is he?"

"Ugh, I don't know. He's in his thirties."

"You don't know?"

"I forget when it's my birthday. I'm not good with numbers."

"Happy Birthday, Sis. How does it feel to be twenty-five?"

"Ugh, old. Sore, old, and tired. I still feel twenty-four. I think I'm going to stay with that for a while."

"What are you going to do tonight?"

"Celebrate."

"With Eddie?"

"Yes."

"How old is he?"

I did a long sigh.

"Viv, how old?"

"Thirty-nine."

"What? He's like an old man?"

"Don't tell Mom and Dad."

"You're going out with an old man?"

"He's not an old man. I just don't want Mom and Dad to know. It's not important, okay?"

"All right, all right. I won't ruin your day."

"That's nice for once."

## WOLSTON 1993

December 23

THE OLD candy factory had been turned in to squeaky-clean condos that advertised a nice view of the flat city and the shimmering brown river that separated Bury and Wolston.

"Ho, ho, ho!" Madeline gave us a hug each. She flipped the Santa hat out of her eyes. "The drinks are in the kitchen. Help yourselves. Check out the view."

We went to the kitchen and Marlo was cinnamon-sprinkling the eggnog.

"Hey! Ho, ho, ho, you two! Viv, your painting looks great. Oh, that was Madeline's surprise. Whoops!" Marlo covered her mouth. "Forget what I said. You two want eggnog?"

"Yeah."

"Did you drive?"

"No."

"All the better." She winked at us as she handed us our drinks. "It's freaking freezing outside but this will take the chill off."

"Mm, that's good."

"Thank you. Promise me, Viv, when you see your painting in the living room you'll act surprised for Maddy's sake."

"I will." I smiled at her.

We headed to the living room and I noticed above the off-white couch was one of my landscape paintings.

"It looks fab," Marlo said.

"Wow, one of my paintings. Maddy, you bought it."

"Yeah. You like, Viv?" asked Madeline as she took an eggnog from Marlo.

"Yeah, thanks. I can't believe it."

"I couldn't forgive myself if I didn't buy it. I just love it. I want you two to meet a really good friend of mine. Marlo, how much liquor did you put in this?"

"It's yummy, isn't it?"

Madeline rolled her eyes. "I told you to put it on the side."

"Shit, Maddy. Shut up and drink it."

"Viv, I want you to meet Eric Hubert."

"Eric Hubert. You invited that asshole?"

"Sh. You're so embarrassing. Anyway, Marlo, that was so long ago. He's married."

"Good for him. I need a smoke. I know I'm gonna go outside. Alex, come with me."

Marlo took Alex and I followed Madeline to meet Eric Hubert. He was holding hands with a cute blonde.

"Eric, did you let yourself in?"

"I might have. Is this Vivian?" he said, pointing to me with his wine glass.

"Yes."

"The landscapes are beautiful. Madeline bought the one I wanted."

"You were a little bit slow."

"That's what I say about his driving," his wife confessed.

"Vivian, this is my wife, Annie."

Annie shook my hand and her red lips mouthed me a hello.

"I'm interested in selling your paintings at my café across the big B bridge. Um, so just give me a call after the holidays, and we'll talk about it." He passed me his card.

"I loved the green lady. It was just so dark and frightening."

"My wife is a horror fanatic. When she sees a red apple she thinks it's poisonous."

"Oh stop it, Eric." She nudged him. "He's always embarrassing me." Annie turned to Madeline. "Where's your hot date? What was his name?"

"Corey's not here yet." Maddy nudged her.

"I'm sure he's tall and handsome." Eric laughed. "Is that the eggnog?" Eric pointed at my glass.

"My sister made it so watch out if you're driving."

"Marlo's here? Wow," Eric said.

"She's your sister?" Annie asked.

"My American half. She's my little sister. We're a year and a half apart."

"What about the eggnog?"

"She spiked it."

"Marlo's up to her tricks," commented Eric.

"You should try it." Maddy held up her glass to him.

"No, thanks. I hate eggnog."

"Viv, is it good?" Annie asked me.

"Yeah," I told her. "I'm going to get another. Does any one want one?"

"No, but thanks," Annie replied. "She's so sweet."

From the living room I saw two big bundles on the patio with trails of smoke fuming into the air.

"You've survived?" Marlo asked.

"Yep. What about you two?"

"The view is gorgeous."

I shrugged as I took a smoke from Alex and leaned against the patio door.

"Viv, come here."

I shook my head. "Nope."

Marlo's eyes flashed on me. "What's up with that?"

"I don't like heights. They freak me out."

"It's only six floors."

"Yeah, it's still too high."

"You like to fly?"

"Yeah, I can fly. I'm just afraid of heights. What were you two talking about?"

"I'm opening my own bar in New York and I was telling Alex that you guys should come out."

"You should tell her the name."

"Loco. It means crazy in Spanish. I'll be lucky to be opening this place. Plus, please don't tell Maddy or really anybody yet."

"Why? Are they mad at you?" asked Alex.

"Sort of. Probably because I've switched my degree however many times. First there was a short stint in acting and then I realized I couldn't do it. And then I went into fashion design, which I thought was my calling, but then as time passed I just sort of lost interest. Then I decided to start painting and I did a little bit of sculpture and got into a New York art school. Finally I graduated. And then I came across the idea of owning a bar. One of my friends, who is also my business partner in this venture, got me hooked. I'm thinking this spring will be the grand opening. Are you guys freezing? I'm freezing. Alex could you go check to see where Eric is?"

"That was so long ago."

"When I left him he was still in the farthest corner. What happened between you two?"

"I'll tell you what happened. That's why I'm out here freezing my ass. Maddy won't come out and get me because she's quit smoking for the sixth time this year and she's pissed off at me because I'm still smoking, the bitch." Marlo snorted into a laugh.

"Eric, we had a thing, a fling. We grew up together and I sort of always had a crush on him. I came back for New Year's and he and I sort of got together. Right before I went back to Vancouver, he tells me he wants to be with me, and I was really reluctant because it was going to be a long-distance relationship. I was never good at commitment even when the guy was living in the same city, but Eric was different so I gave in. Everything was going fine and he was coming out for visits. For about six months it was a lot of fun and great sex, but then Eric kissed somebody else at a party. I was like whatever, you're drunk, it happens. So it was his turn to come out for a visit. And you know what? The jerk never shows up or calls. Finally I had to call Maddy. So she stopped by his place to see if he was alive. To make a long story short that asshole answered the door and in the distance Maddy heard a female voice call for him and I never talked to him again. I just can't believe my sister is still friends with him." Marlo smiled.

"That's horrible," I said.

"You know? Viv, thank you so much for seeing it that way." She blew on her hands. "And I still can't believe she invited him tonight. She's such a queen bitch. Let's go inside."

Madeline came into the bedroom.

"I froze," Marlo told her.

"Good. Are you staying?"

"Where else am I gonna go?"

"It's such old news, Marlo. He's been married for a while."

Marlo rolled her eyes at her sister. "What are you doing?"

"I need some of that gum."

"That's so fucking gross."

"At least I'm trying."

"You look like a cow."

"You're so nice."

"Where's Corey?" Marlo whined at her.

Madeline eyes flashed on her sister. "He's here," she said, looking at herself in the dark. "How much liquor did you put in the eggnog?"

"I don't know. Maddy, when you make eggnog you always put in liquor. Mom and Dad always did."

"Not when we were kids."

"Corey's a kid?"

"Marlo, I wanted the liquor on the side. This is a safe Christmas party."

"Whatever." Marlo rolled her eyes.

"This will give you a wicked hangover, but they are so good," Marlo said as she sprinkled more cinnamon on our eggnogs. "If Maddy made this, it would be horrible. She's a horrible cook. Her cooking could kill a man. It's ruined all her relationships. Guys, I'm going to go in and talk to Corey."

"Who's Corey?" asked Alex.

"Corey is Maddy's secret boyfriend," I replied.

"That's right." Marlo laughed. "He's nice and I'm almost afraid he's in for quite a ride. She's trying to quit smoking, owns a business, and can't cook but thinks she can."

"She has personality."

"Yeah, but she's a little bit wacky. Like she's always loved my eggnog and recently it's like liquor is bad. So I'm starting to think maybe Corey is in AA. I don't know. She's not saying much. Anyway, drink it up."

"How was Corey?" I asked Marlo.

"Totally AA. I'll be happy to get back to New York where life seems normal. But you two should come. You can stay at my swanky place in Brooklyn. It totally has the space. It's a railroad apartment."

"What's that?"

"Where the rooms all run into each other. I call it an intimate hallway. It's a nice place. It's big. Not as big as this but big enough."

"Did you see Eric?" asked Alex.

"Yes, and I met his wife. She's definitely too pretty for him and I really hope for his sake that she doesn't stray. Karma can be such a bitch." She rubbed her nose. "Anyway, I don't even see how I fell in love with him, he wears a turtleneck. I must have been out of my goddamned mind."

"That wasn't so bad."

"Actually, we talked about Viv. We talked about your paintings. Viv, I would love to see your work before I go."

"You should totally drop in."

"I think I will."

"So what did Corey drink?"

"Club soda. Totally AA."

## NEW YORK 2000

December 15

A GLITTER disaster twinkled at me and Eddie thought I liked to hear him whistle while he had a shower.

Marlo requested another _Golden Nip_ painting and she told me that people were cock crazy for them. I wish I told her that there could only be one _Golden Nip_ painting. Instead I painted the second _Golden Nip_ with a spurt of glitter. The only wish I had for this show was that nobody would want to buy these festive sex slave paintings.

"Hey, Viv?" He peeked into the studio. "What are you doing? We gotta get going."

"I'm getting ready." I pushed passed him as he was buttoning up his shirt.

"You're okay?"

"Yeah, don't worry about me." I flicked on the closet's light.

"Trust me, you'll feel better when we're out."

"Eddie, what should I wear?"

"Wear your boots and that short black dress."

"You wanna show me off?"

"You're my trophy." He grinned.

"Sweet." I blew him a kiss.

"You'd better hurry up."

"Eddie, you've made it." Paul pulled up his black jeans. "Merry Christmas!"

"Hey, Eddie!" Marla shouted at him. "You gotta pick your song."

"Oh, fuck."

"What's this about?" I asked Marla as she relished in Eddie's agony.

"Every Christmas Paul and Eddie pick a song, and they do a little duet. They're hilarious."

"Yeah, right. It's because I make a fool out of myself."

"So true."

"And it's fucking hilarious. I told you, you should've been a clown."

"Every Christmas we do this and that doesn't start until everybody has had enough to drink," Eddie explained.

"Cheers to that," Marla said. "So what's the song?"

"I was thinkin 'Hangin' Tough'?" Paul replied.

"Fuck, what are you on? I'm thinking Journey."

" 'Don't Stop Believin'?"

"What about 'Hit Me Baby One More Time'? I'd kill to see you and Paul do that."

"Fuck, no, Marla."

"It's a good song, Eddie."

"You should have just said 'Copacabana'."

"What about 'Genie In A Bottle'?"

"No, you girls just don't have any taste."

"I picked you didn't I?" I asked Eddie.

"Eddie's right. You don't have any taste." Paul howled.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Real funny."

"Did you tell her yet?" Paul's eyes sparkled on Eddie then me.

"Nope."

"Viv, I caught him smoking."

"You know, I'm starting to think that you have no life and that's why you're so interested in tormenting me."

"Paul, leave Eddie alone. You guys are like sisters."

"Shut your mouth, Marla. Anyway, Eddie said that you guys might be moving in together."

"I think you two should," Marla said.

"We're thinking about it," Eddie said. "Come on, Viv. I'm gonna introduce you to a buddy of mine. We go all the way back to high school."

"Eddie," a big voice chuckled.

"Leo," Eddie shouted back at Leo, who resembled a clown-like Sasquatch.

"I can't fucking believe it." Leo's plump lips smirked.

"You owe me," Eddie told him as Leo gave him a slap on the back.

"Fuck me. Honey, look at this." His wife stopped talking with a group of girls and looked right at me. She was like a deer caught in the headlights.

"Yeah, what is it?" she asked.

"This is Eddie's girl."

"Congratulations, Eddie." She gave him a short smile and went back to her conversation.

"Pay up," Eddie told him.

"Fuck. How much was it? Twenty-five?"

"One hundred bones."

"First, you gotta introduce me."

"Vivian, this is Leo Karpinski."

"Vivian, it's great to finally meet you. That's my wife Roxy. Roxy?" he shouted at her.

"What?"

"Roxy, this is Vivian."

"Eddie, why don't you bring her over here and meet the girls?" She licked her sharp teeth into a grin.

Eddie dragged me to the girls as Leo flopped behind me. One of the girls giggled right away as her bright eyes sparkled onto me.

"Vivian, I'm so sorry. We all thought you were made up. I'm Maxine."

"We all call her Maxi."

"Okay, first off, I hate being called Maxi. The name is Maxine, Edwin. Edwin, why don't you let her come here? We don't bite."

"Sorry, Maxine. And we have a new girl. What is it, Moesha?"

"Fuck off, Eddie. Vivian, I'm Trisha. Did he pay you?"

"Real funny."

"Eddie, I told you before, you ain't no comedian."

"I think we should all call him Edwin from now on."

"Good idea, Maxine."

"Vivian, come sit with us." Roxy patted the seat next to her. Reluctantly I let Eddie go as I sat beside Roxy.

"You must excuse us." Maxine tossed her straightened hair behind her as she pulled at her gold hoop earring. "We all thought Eddie made you up. But here you are in the flesh. It's so nice to finally meet you. You would not believe how Eddie goes on and on about you."

"Oh, yeah. He loves you."

Roxy touched her pointy nose and then studied me like I was a doll. "Where in God's Earth did you two meet? No offense, but I really thought Eddie was lying about you too."

"At a bar." I filled my mouth with a smoke and wished that I could disappear or at least disintegrate into the old vinyl booth.

"I knew it wasn't any library," added Trisha.

"Nope." I sighed. "We're both drunks." I was trying to eye Eddie to tell him to come and get me now but he was too busy with Leo.

"That's more like it. How old are you? You're so young. What are you, twenty-two?"

"Twenty-four," I mumbled and then I remembered that I was twenty-five. My mouth, my brain felt so dry. I finished my drink.

"I got to say this, I mean." She touched me with her manicured blood-red nails. "Don't take offense, you definitely could do a whole lot better. Now, I know it can't possibly be looks or please God, not his sense of humour."

"What can I say?" I smoked, hoping that there were some words in my head that would come together instead of me shouting out "S.O.S." Their scary eyes felt like they were cutting me in to pieces. "Something. There was just something about him."

"Mm, you know what? I know exactly what she's saying. It's like Leo over there. He's ugly—but I love him. I love him to death, honestly."

"It's so true. The ugly ones always have something."

"Hey, he's given me four gorgeous children. He's always been faithful, and he's always been there for me. It's that something." She shook her head at Leo as she took one last puff. "That's what I keep telling you two. I always remind Leo how lucky he is to have me and with that." She showed off her bracelets, necklace, and rings. "He makes sure that I remember him everyday. Diamonds are a girl's best-friend, ladies."

"Diamonds don't lie." Maxine replied.

"True dat!" Trisha told us as she flashed her numerous golden rings.

"So, Vivian, Eddie said you're an artist?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"What do you paint?"

"Women."

"I gotta admit, I don't know much about art."

"You know the Mona Lisa?" Trisha asked.

"Yes, Trisha, I know about the Mona Lisa," replied Roxy, reaching for another cigarette. "I mean modern art, today's art. My cousin Susan is an art teacher, and we live on the same street. Anyway, she asked me to go to the MOMA because they were having a show on Jackson Pollock. Have any of you seen what he paints? I was horrified. I mean my kids did paintings like that—you know, you put it on the fridge and that's that. I didn't expect that to actually be art. I call that doodling. I mean that was at a museum. Like how can that be art? I asked Susan and she told me everything is art, which I thought was really deep. I've never thought about that before. Anyway, that same day I saw Monet's water lilies and it was absolutely breathtaking."

"Ladies, what about a dance?" Eddie asked us.

"In your dreams," Trisha replied.

"I wasn't talking to you."

"Come on, Rox," Leo told her.

"Please would be nice," replied Roxy.

Eddie took me in his arms. "Don't leave me alone again," I whispered to him, and he laughed.

"It was that bad?"

"Let's just say you owe me."

"I won't ever leave you alone again."

"And you owe me a drink." I poked his chest.

"Ouch! Anything your heart desires."

"Hey, Eddie." Leo nudged him as he swayed with Roxy. "Stop pulling all the fancy moves."

"Ouch! Watch your feet!" Roxy squawked at him.

The song ended and Eddie swayed me in his arms.

"Hey, Vivian." Roxy grabbed my hand. "Come back and sit with us."

"I think you had her long enough."

"He wants to show me around."

"And your husband owes me a hundred bucks."

"Leo, what's this hundred bucks about?"

"Don't worry about it. Babe, you want a drink?" He tried to give her a kiss.

"Eww! Leo, don't drool on me! Jesus! Yeah, get me what I like," she replied as she went back to Maxine and Trisha.

"First things first, let me buy you two a drink?"

"You're not just getting off with drinks. You better pay up."

"Aw, fuck." Leo pulled out five twenty-dollar bills. "Here you go. Now what do you guys wanna drink?" He scratched his head.

"Crown and a bud. Crown and Coke for her."

"What's up with Roxy?" asked Eddie. "She's bitchier than normal."

"Who the fuck knows." He flicked his bulb-like nose and snorted as he took out a smoke. "She's always on my case. It's like she's always on the rag. Aw, she's fucking nuts. Vivian, here's your drink." He gave me a grin with a twinkle in his eye.

"Nice shirt." Eddie pointed at Leo's red shirt.

"Yeah, Roxy picked it out. She likes doing that stuff. Guess who's living on my street? She was one of Eddie's old sweethearts."

"You don't mean Tanya?"

Leo nodded his floppy head.

"She's more like a fucking nightmare."

"Tell me about it. She's always down. You know she still hates my guts. The other night Roxy had her over for dinner because she's feeling lonely. Tanya starts talking to Roxy about John Bambrick. Little Johnny. Fucking prick. She always says what a nice guy he is. Oh, he's so good looking but he doesn't want to commit."

"Wasn't she married?"

"Yeah, her husband cheated on her. Fuck, they were only married for two years. I told Roxy that Tanya must have drove him to it. I mean Jack was a nice guy. Hey, remember the lap dance I got him at his bachelor party and he didn't even want it? You see? That's a nice guy, you know?"

"You told her that."

Leo cracked up into laughter. "Maybe that's why she's so fucking pissed off. I don't know." He snorted. "Didn't Dave set you up with her?"

"Fuck, every disaster he had he gave to me. Some fucking friend."

"He thought it was hilarious."

"Who's Dave?" I asked.

"Dave Ruffini. He's a pal of ours. He was what you call a ladies man." Leo laughed.

"He's a good guy. He moved in with Diana."

"Fuck, Diana's hot."

"What's hot, honey?" Roxy appeared beside Leo.

The big clown's body convulsed with a few coughs.

"The song that Paul and Eddie picked to sing."

"Really?" Her eyes bugged out at him.

"Roxy, what do you want?" he shrugged as he finished off his drink.

"I want?" She whined back at him. "I thought maybe I'd come sit with you."

"Oh. Babe, you want another drink?"

"Yeah, Leo, I want another drink. So, Eddie, what's the hot song?"

" 'Don't Stop Believin'."

"It's good, isn't it, Rox?"

"Honey, it's hot."

Leo was happy to see the drinks come back fast, and he quickly gave his wife her drink.

"That's a hot song."

"Yeah, Eddie, it sure is." Leo tried to smile naturally.

"I'm gonna go back to the girls. You guys are boring."

"Okay, honey."

"Hey, good luck, Eddie."

"Thanks."

Leo watched Roxy squish through the crowd, and then he looked at us.

"You can relax, man."

"That was fucking close."

Eddie smiled. "She would have taken your head."

"And my fucking balls. I'll be back."

"Roxy fucking scares me."

"You should see her sister."

"What happened with her?"

"Aw, Dave set me up. The date was going fantastic, she was laughing at my jokes. Then something happened and she started to cry. I didn't know what was the matter with her. But she kept asking me if I found her attractive. It was crazy, so I took her home."

"Did you date her again?"

"No. She was too embarrassed."

Leo came back. "All is good." Leo slapped Eddie on the back.

"You talked to her?"

"To Roxy? Yeah, she's fine. So what did I miss?"

"I was asking Eddie about Tanya."

Leo sighed. "Tanya is like a big cry baby. I remember she spread that rumor about Eddie and how he had bad breath. You remember?" Leo hit Eddie's shoulder. "I remember they had their date at Deana Flores' party. Deana liked you. She thought you were funny. You and Deana went out for a while." He put his arm over Eddie.

"Memory lane can come to an end."

"Deana dumped him when she went to university. She was a smart girl."

"Yep."

"You were pretty busted up by it."

"Yep." Eddie lit a smoke. "What've you got?"

"What do you mean? I'm having a drink with you guys."

"It seems like you've got something else. What about sharing?"

"Eddie, I can't."

"What do you mean?" asked Eddie.

"I don't have enough, Eddie. I'm out. It's not even that good. You know if you're looking..."

"Testing 1, 2, 3," Paul's voice rang over the microphone. "Ladies and Germs, you are all in for a treat tonight. I've got a special song for you all."

"Take it off," Marla shouted.

"Was that Maxine?"

"You wish."

"Now let's get this party started with a little song that Eddie and I will sing. Let's give him a round of applause! And we need one other lucky germ."

"Leo Karpinski!" Eddie yelled.

"And we have Leo Karpinski joining us for a song and maybe a little dance."

Eddie sang as Paul and Leo goofed around. I was surprised at how good Eddie was. After the song was over, Eddie yanked the microphone away from Paul. "Thank you, thank you. I'm taking autographs at the bar, and ladies, I'm only available for a photograph."

"Get off!" yelled the women in the audience.

Eddie tossed the microphone back to Paul.

"Eddie, I didn't know you were so talented," I told him.

"You gotta thank my mother for that. I was a Catholic boy and my mother insisted we'd be part of the choir. She said to me, 'Edwin, all angels sing.' " He took a few thirsty gulps of his beer. "I'll give you a private performance at home, okay?" His lovely eyes shimmered over me.

"You better."

"Sorry to be disturbing you two love-doves but I'm gonna borrow Eddie."

"Leo, you can keep him."

"Hey, Eddie, she's got a bit of a mouth on her."

"She's got more than that."

I punched Eddie.

"Ouch!"

Eddie and Leo had a murmured discussion and then Eddie started to plead with him. "Come on, Leo."

"I told you I don't have enough. Hey, if Roxy catches me, I'm dead."

"That's fucking bullshit."

"Keep it down. Look, you want some?"

"I've been wanting it all night, man," Eddie grumbled at him. "We're goin' to the bathroom."

"It'll give you the shits. I'm just warning you."

"I've been warned."

Eddie left me at the bar and I ordered another drink and then Leo came back.

"Where's Eddie?"

"He's in the can. He'll be back. He's fine. I'm sorry I didn't offer you any."

"It's fine. Roxy's looking for you." He choked on his beer.

## WOLSTON 1993

December 28

IT WAS already ten past eight. I was cleaning up the dinner dishes and waiting for Marlo to arrive.

"Vivvy, did you want tea?" my mom asked as she filled up the whistling kettle.

"No."

"When did Marlo say she was coming?"

"Around eight."

"Oh, she should be here soon."

"Yep."

"Did you want any ice cream?"

"Not right now. What kind did you buy?"

"Butterscotch."

"Why didn't you get chocolate?"

"It wasn't on sale."

"I told you before, I don't like butterscotch. It's gross." The doorbell rang and I jumped. "I'll get it, Dad."

"Vivvy, check the keyhole first."

"Yeah, okay, I'll get it." I opened the door and Marlo's pink scarf sparkled. "Hi. Come in."

"Hey. Alex told me you lived at home still."

"Yep. It's rent free."

"That's how you do it."

"Just keep your coat and boots on, the studio is in the garage. It might be a little bit cold."

"It's warm. I was thinking it would be freezing," she told me as she unwrapped her thick scarf.

"I have the heaters on high. Did you want anything to drink?"

"No, I'm good. I was just at Maddy's place. Wow. This is a lot."

"Yeah." I sat on the stairs and stared at all my paintings that I had spread out the night before.

"Busy, busy. I like."

Marlo looked quickly at the landscapes and then she turned around and focused on the ugly portraits.

"I think the medium-sized paintings work best for the ladies. The small ones are nice. Which ones came first? The little ones did, right?"

"Yeah."

"What are they called?"

"The medium ones are _Ugly Monsters_. The smaller ones are _Towel Heads_."

She smiled. " _Ugly Monsters,_ I like that. What I like about them most is your palette. The colours are great. I really like how you kept a really bright palette for these ones when the ladies are just ugly." She looked carefully at the red monster and then she looked over at the smaller ones from the summer. "I like how the brushstrokes are more prominent. I like it that when you paint, you show it. What's the title of this red one?"

" _Ugly Red Lady_."

"There is something really tormented about it but then the colours are fabulous. They draw you in. The contrast is beautiful, beautiful and ugly."

"Thanks."

"Those landscapes. How do you feel about them?"

"Experimental. It was just something I tried."

"You know they're nice, but they're just not edgy or got something to say. They sort of just say, hang me above your couch, you know? I hope I'm not too harsh."

"No, I totally agree."

"Look, I'm thinking about having art for sale in my bar, and I would love to show and sell your art if possible. What do you think about that?"

"Yeah, are you sure?"

"Yep. They're different, and I really like that, Viv. I like what I see here. But you are totally going to have to come out to New York."

"I will. I really want too."

"Good. Um, I was thinking that we should get them to be a bit more personal. Let's give them names. Let's make these monsters into real monsters. Like Nancy, Marilyn. Think about it?" she smiled.

"Okay, I will. Do you still paint?"

"Oh, shit no."

"I saw your painting."

"Oh, that painting is awful. I told Maddy to take it down. It was a period in my life that I just was like yuck."

"It was good. Why did you stop?"

"Oh, I guess it started when I did an internship at one of the galleries and they paid me shit. So then I started to bartend on top of it. And I realized that I enjoyed art when I had an assignment. So if I didn't have an assignment, the studio was the last place I would be. Plus when I was working at the gallery, I was around art and I liked looking at it. But when it came to creating art, it just didn't hold me anymore. I discovered that I loved looking at art. Maddy hates when I say 'discover' because I've discovered a lot of things I love to do in my life so far. Now I'm opening up a bar, and I like the idea of selling art. Getting artists out there. There are some really good artists who get overlooked. They just need a little help. Am I sounding like Oprah?"

"No, it's just interesting. Like how you're in New York."

"Look, Viv, you gotta ask yourself where you want to be. When I was in Vancouver I wanted to go to New York, and I found a way."

After Marlo left, I seriously thought about New York. New York felt like this unreal place to me. When Alex wanted to go I thought we would go to the big apple to see the Statue of Liberty or the Empire State building and take a ride on the A train. It would be a vacation. But Marlo made New York into something more. I knew then I didn't want to live in my parents' house forever, and I didn't want to stay in Wolston. I could start my real life in New York.

## NEW YORK 2000

December

AFTER I dropped off the commissioned _Golden Nip_ painting at Marlo's bar, she bought me a few drinks and harassed me with how happy she was about the new festive work. My own fake enthusiasm for the work was killing me. I really thought about burning my studio to the ground. I hated it. I hated art. Eddie's job seemed like an easy possibility. Then I thought about Billy's job and bartending felt like a natural transition.

"Hey, Viv. I have your money."

"Thanks." I glanced down at the envelope of cash and the hatred for my job vanished. I could never work for minimum wage and tips. I don't even think I would get tips.

When I got home, Supertramp's "Logical Song" was blaring down the staircase, and I knew it wasn't coming from Desiree's apartment. I opened the door and there was Leo and Eddie on the couch cutting up cocaine on my makeup mirror.

"Hi, honey." Eddie gave me a kiss. "Hard day at work?"

"Viv, Eddie showed me your work. It's fucking fantastic. You're a Picasso."

"Babe, he wants to buy one. Isn't that great?"

"Yeah, that's nice." I walked into the bedroom.

"Babe, why don't you join us?"

"Aren't you two supposed to be at work?" I asked.

"We decided to play hooky."

"You're in your forties and you're playing hooky. Eddie, can I talk to you?"

He shut the bedroom door.

"Don't ever fucking go in my studio again. It's not yours, it's mine, and those paintings are fucking junk. They're a fucking jinx. You understand?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry."

"Another thing, don't bring your buddies home and have crack on my mirror. It's not yours. And I want you and your friend out."

"Where should we go?"

"To his place."

"His wife's there."

"To your place."

"What happens when Paul comes home? He gets off work before us."

"That's not my problem, Eddie. You know, just get the fuck out."

"You don't have to be such a bitch about it. I did it for you, too. I mean, you're invited as well. That's why I'm here. I wanna party with you."

"I don't fucking want to. Now get the fuck out."

"Fucking bitch."

Eddie opened the door.

"Pack it up," he told Leo.

"What's happening?" he asked.

"We'll go to my place. Viv's gotta work."

"You know, boys, you could always get a hotel room."

"Look, I'm sorry," Leo said. "It was my idea. I don't always think."

"Oh, okay."

"Hey, Viv, you think we can take the mirror?" asked Leo.

"No. I need that."

Leo shrugged as he meticulously placed the cocaine back into its baggy.

"Eddie, don't come here tonight 'cause I'm working the whole night."

"Yep." He slammed the door.

With one problem gone, I headed to the studio to see the sparkled mess. The paintings were god-awful, and for some reason I heard Leo call me a Picasso. I thought about Picasso. If he got away with selling shitty paintings, then I could sell these glittered titties, or golden semen-spray paintings.

The final painting of the show was a combo of tit and cock, a male silhouette spraying the female's tits.

The next day I shuddered out of my sleep to a door slam followed by Eddie's heavy footsteps tramping into my room. "Viv? Viv, are you awake? Viv?"

I pretended to sleep. So he turned on the TV to an obnoxious morning show of laughter and numbing handclaps.
December 21

"DO YOU get people to model for you?" Eddie was carrying one of my paintings.

"No." I smiled.

"They're like porn. Not that I know porn."

"Sure, Eddie."

"So who is this?" He looked at the back of the painting. " _Desiree_?"

"My neighbour."

He looked at her brown sparkly tits again.

"Really?" he asked.

"She's a stripper." I took _Desiree_ from him.

"A stripper?"

"I know. I'm so lucky."

"You've seen her strip?"

"No, I haven't been that lucky."

"We can change that." He winked.

"Ha, ha, ha. She goes to school. I think she's getting her GED." I slammed the trunk of the Lincoln.

"That was Leo's favourite."

"I guess that one was the Picasso." I hugged my arms.

"You're cold?" He ogled my prickly tits.

"T and A. Is that all you think about?"

"Twenty-four seven."

"Viv, what a fucking miserable day," Marlo remarked as she flicked on the lights and then she saw the paintings. "Oh, my God, Viv. They're perfect. I love them. I love you." She gave me a big hug and then she noticed Eddie.

"Marlo, this is Eddie."

"Yeah." She smiled at me and then squinted at him. "Hi, Eddie."

"Hi, Marlo."

"Well, first off, you two are invited to New Year's."

"We'll think about it."

"Every year you say that and then you end up dropping by."

"Are the drinks free?" Eddie asked.

"You must be dating Viv."

"We'll think about it."

"Good. And that reminds me, what are you doing for Christmas?"

"I'm having dinner with Eddie's family."

"Great. You won't be out in the cold."

"You're having dinner with Billy?"

"Yeah, I am." Marlo bit her lip. "Well, I've got to get back to my miserable day. Viv, I'll call you. The paintings are fabulous." Marlo hugged me. "What are you doing with him?" she whispered in my ear. "See you guys."

We walked back to the Lincoln and Marlo's question gnawed at me and made me mad. She didn't know anything about him and already she thought she could judge him.

"Eddie, I'll be right back."

I ran back up the stairs to Loco and found her outside staring at the dumpster below as she had a smoke break.

"Marlo? Eddie's a good guy."

"You know he's older than you."

"Yeah, so what?"

"I'm sorry. I guess what I mean is Damien was your last boyfriend. How do you go to Eddie? Are you okay?"

"Damien was a waste of time. He was a jerk, and Eddie isn't like that. He's funny, charming, nice, and he's good looking."

"Are you drunk?"

"Fuck off. I don't even see why you make Eddie any of your business."

"Viv, I'm sorry. I'm just having a bad day. I'm sure Eddie is a nice guy. He just seems like he belongs on a barstool."

"Fuck, Marlo, can you leave him alone?"

"Viv, I'm sorry. I care about you. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"You're not my mother."

"Viv?"

"Marlo, I gotta go."

I left and then I heard her shout out, "I'm sorry, Viv. I'll call you."

Eddie was leaning against the car. "Everything's okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine. You wanna go for a drink?" I asked.

"Won't say no. Your friend Marlo owns that bar?"

"Yeah."

"She seems a bit on edge."

"I know."

"Did you want to go back there and have a drink?"

"No, they're not open." And then I thought Eddie was right, he should move in with me. That would show Marlo that Eddie was serious and that he was the one. "Eddie, you know, you could move in with me. If you still want to?"

"Viv, I don't know." He held the door open for me.

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"First off, this is a big commitment." Eddie ordered our drinks.

I poked him. "Is that right, Eddie?"

"A big commitment."

"You better move in." I pinched his lips together to form an "O".

"Now you're scaring me."

"You know, maybe you're right." I told him.

"Too bad for you." He picked up his glass.

"Why?"

"I'm moving in." He gave me a frothy grin.
December 24-25

MY APARTMENT felt so small after Eddie moved in. The empty boxes hovered in the hallway to the kitchen, half of my closet was in my studio's closet, and the other half of my medicine cabinet was under the sink with the sink plunger.

"Babe, this is really great. I told you this was a good idea. I'm gonna buy some shelves and then I can put up my records and CDs. I like to look at them."

"Sure. I'll be back." I swallowed hard as I rushed outside to buy Eddie something for Christmas.

A tie was my first choice for Eddie's gift but I couldn't make it past the liquor store, so I got him a big bottle of Crown Royal.

"Ho, ho, ho! Santa Clause left you this." Eddie passed me a red gift box. "I think you're gonna love it."

I opened it, and it was red and white: A Santa's hat with a little bell. I put it on and smiled at him. Then I noticed the red velvet bra with the fuzzy trim, the short, short fluffy red skirt, the crotch-less red panties, and the red and white-striped stockings.

"Ho, ho, ho! I'm pretty sure it's gonna fit you. What do you think?"

"Do you have a Santa suit?" I asked reluctantly.

"Not yet. You want me to get one?"

"No, it's okay. I've never been Santa's little helper before."

"You're Mrs. Clause. You gotta try it on. 'Tis the season."

"I will," I told him as I put the box on the floor, hoping he'd forget about it. "Let's have the champagne."

"What about trying it on now?"

"I need a drink."

"We can have the champagne and do a little ho, ho, ho. What do you say, Mrs. Clause?" He gave me a kiss.

"I guess." I shrugged. "If we have time."

The phone rang and I was relieved to know that it was my parents and that Eddie's gift had to wait until later.

"Do you have an iron?" Eddie buttoned up a dark blue shirt.

"No."

"I'll pick it up tonight. What do you think?"

"It looks nice. It brings out your eyes."

"It's not too wrinkled?"

"It looks fine to me."

"How can you not have an iron?"

"Why would I?"

"Because most people do. You're a girl."

"Why don't you go get it now?" I asked as I took out a burgundy dress.

"I'll be fine." He hung it up again. "I'm gonna take a shower. Do you need to use the bathroom?"

"No." I sat on the bed as I stretched on a new pair of black nylons. Again it struck me as odd that my closet was half and half. That Eddie was going to adorn my walls with his old records and CD collection. And that Eddie could really be the one.

This was my first Christmas away from home, and I missed my family. I had a cigarette to replace the familiar turkey smell that I knew would be filling my parents' home. There would be a candy bowl on the coffee table and it would be filled with wrappers by my dad and brother who were watching a Christmas comedy. My mother would be on the phone with my dad's parents. Then I remembered my brother's girlfriend Miki would be there. So then maybe her and my mom would be sipping tea and getting to know each other better. Or maybe they were discussing the future wedding.

The washroom door opened and the smell of the steamy shower filled the kitchen and small hallway.

"That's a nice shower."

"You're done?"

"Yeah, hurry up. We're gonna be late."

"What's taking them so long?" Eddie said as he knocked again on Paul's door.

"Ho, ho, ho! Merry Christmas!" Paul was half dressed in a Santa suit with the beard around his neck. "You shouldn't have." Paul took the chocolates from Eddie.

"It was Viv's idea," Eddie confessed.

"Eddie's been naughty, but I'm thinking Viv's been nice?" he asked.

"Merry Christmas!" Marla said as she nodded her head to emphasize the reindeer antlers. "Okay, they saw it. I'm taking it off."

"Where's the nose?"

"Forget it. I made you a turkey, I'm not wearing the nose."

"Pooper. Babe, Eddie and Viv got us some lovely chocolates."

"Oh, thanks."

"So Santa has the hard stuff. What do you want, Viv?"

"Viv, why don't you share a Captain Morgan and Coke with me?"

"Sure. I'll help you."

"Well, you're lucky it was just the reindeer antlers. Last year I was Mrs. Clause. I was the one cooking and of course I was sweating like a pig. I said not again. I'll wait till I'm old and grey. Here you go." She handed me my drink. "Mm, that's so good. I have eggnog if you want?"

"Na, it's okay."

"I'm just gonna open the window. I'm so hot. My mother knitted this sweater and it's freaking hot." Her sweater jingled as she opened the window. "And I'm musical at the same time. So how's your Christmas going? I hope Santa was good to you."

"I got champagne and I got him a big Crown Royal bottle."

"You two are truly made for each other. It's been a regular circus here. Once I got the twins to bed, it was smooth sailing, and then Paul picked up Mom. She's having a nap in our room. At her home they had a little Christmas celebration and she's tired from that. So, Viv, you're family's back in Canada?"

"Yeah, I talked to them earlier. This is my first Christmas away."

"Wow." Marla's eyes lit up. "You two must be serious. I'm so happy you two decided to move in together. It's the best thing for Eddie."

"What's the best thing for Eddie?" Eva straightened out the shoulder pads in her sparkly sweater.

"Vivian, Ma."

"Eddie was saying you two were married."

"No, Ma, we moved in together." Eddie gave her a hug.

"Oh, I was wondering why I didn't get invited."

At home with the Christmas lights around the apartment we opened up the champagne and Eddie rolled a joint.

"I love the holidays," Eddie reflected as he licked the joint. "You know, I was thinking, what about you trying on your present?"

I coughed on the champagne.

"What about it?" He kissed my cheek. "You won't regret it."

"Really?" I got up. "You know I don't even know if it will fit. Do you even know what size I am?" I asked as I got the box from underneath the couch.

"I checked."

"Where did you buy it?"

"It was my mistress's idea."

I smacked the box over his head.

"Jesus, Viv, I'm just kidding. I picked it out. Can you please try it on? You're killing me."

"Yeah, yeah." I squished my breasts into the bra, which made them pop out, and then I slipped on the crotch-less panties followed by the stockings and the tiny red skirt with the fluffy white trim.

"Where are the shoes?"

"Oh, I didn't know your size."

I took a tube of red lipstick and rubbed a little bit onto my cheeks to give me a nice warm glow like I was making cookies all day long.

"Eddie, you're ready?"

"I was born ready."

"This is what you like?" I pinched the skirt's fluff.

"It looks like you're missing something." Eddie jingled a red garter band with a bell on it.

He put the garter band on. "Bend over and ask, 'Was Eddie a good boy?' "

I bent over and shook my ass for him. "Was Eddie a good boy?"

"I was very, very bad."

"Oh."

"And what is Mrs. Clause gonna do about it? Viv, sit on me."

I sat down on him.

"Sh." I tried keeping a straight face. "I have a little secret to tell you." I kissed his fingers. "But you can't tell Mr. Clause. He would be very, very angry if he found out about our little secret. Eddie, do you think you can do that?" I rubbed his hands over my breasts.

"Yeah. Whatever you want Mrs. Clause. Champagne?"

"Please." I giggled.

"Allow me, Mrs. Clause." Eddie poured the champagne and it gushed out of my mouth and onto my fluffy-velvet breasts.

"Oh, my!" I shrieked.

"Whoops! I'm such a bad boy."

"I can't let Mr. Clause see me like this."

"Mrs. Clause, you're not gonna tell Santa?"

He licked my cleavage while his fingers stumbled with the bra strap. "I think it's stuck."

"I'll do it."

I tossed the soggy bra onto the floor and we fucked with the sticky champagne between us.

## WOLSTON 1993

December 31

I WENT over to Alex's on New Year's Eve. He was bummed out because he got cut from Sugar's New Year's party DJ list. Unfortunately, by the time Sugar decided to tell him, Alex had already said no to another offer. So he sat at home listening to music with the Christmas lights on that Jeff's new girlfriend Lisa had put up.

"I missed you," I told him as I gave his cold cheek a kiss. "Are they gonna go out soon?"

"I hope so." He rested his head back. "So your parents got you a suitcase?"

"Santa Clause did."

"What are you gonna do with that suitcase?" He slapped my thigh.

"It's in my closet. I forgot to tell you that I got a travel book on New York too."

"They want you to go?"

I nodded. "I hope Marlo wants my work. That would be so cool."

"Yeah, that would be cool."

"Stop it." I gave him a punch. "Shut up."

Then Jeff's door opened and his girlfriend came out. "Hurry up. We're going to be late."

Jeff appeared. "What are you two doing for New Year's?"

"I don't know," Alex said coldly.

"You should come with us. It just sucks, man, that they pulled out on you. Mike is really pissed off at Neil."

"Yeah."

"Lisa was saying that there is this rave tonight in the factory area."

"If he's a DJ, he could play there," Lisa said.

"Yeah, I'll look into that," Alex replied as he lit a smoke.

"Babe, are you ready to go?"

"I just need the powder room."

"I thought we already did that?" Jeff asked.

"You're cute, Jeffie. I need to doll myself up."

"Hey, you guys need anything?" Jeff asked.

"Na," I told him.

They left and Alex relaxed with a sigh. "I've lived with him too long and I'm tired of it."

"Is he leaving?" I asked.

"I hope so." He put his arm around me.

"You're gonna get a new roommate?"

"Darling, that's right. Your suitcase seems like a sign."

"To travel. We'll go to New York."

He looked at the palm of my hand. "I see something in the immediate future."

"Yeah, what is it?" I asked.

"To move in with me."

My happy smile was jammed on my lips. "Jeff lives here."

"Not for long."

"You're kicking him out? That's so cruel. He's your friend."

"I already did."

"That's so mean."

"He's moving in with Lisa."

"He's just met her."

"It seems like it would be a good thing for him."

I thought about moving out. I'd be stuck paying rent and it just seemed like New York got farther away from me. Alex's place was not where I wanted to be.

"No, I can't."

"What do you mean you can't?"

"My parents live in the same city."

"So?"

"What would be the point?" I got up to make a drink.

"The point is so we could be together."

"We are together."

"Yeah, but don't you ever think it would be nice to wake up together."

"We do, sometimes."

"That's because you passed out. Otherwise you race home."

"My studio is at home." I tossed the ice into the glass.

"So?"

"Alex, it would be totally different if we lived in a different city."

"Viv, your parents bought you a suitcase. Maybe they're trying to tell you it's time to leave the nest."

"They want me to go to New York."

"I can't believe this."

"I don't want to move out, okay? I don't see why that's a big deal. My studio is there and I don't pay any rent."

"Not yet."

"I don't pay rent, so then I can save for New York. Marlo really wants us out there. And you want to go," I reminded him.

"Viv, are you gonna stay there forever?"

"No, Alex. I just don't see why I have to move out now. It's not a good time." I handed him his drink. "Let's forget it for now. What did you want to do for New Year's?"

His mean grumpy eyes looked at me. "Why don't you go home to your mummy and daddy?"

"Fuck off. You always got to make it so hard." I grabbed my coat and stood at the door, waiting for him to stop me.

"Viv." He said my name but I wished he called me darling.

"What?" I asked, hoping that his grumpy lips would kiss me.

"Don't come back."

For a minute I stood there trying to think of something to make us better, but all I could do was slam the door.

The wind rushed at me and pulled me onto the deserted street. The snowy sidewalk was dirty and would be stuck like that until spring.

I wasn't going to think about Alex. I needed a place to go and I thought of Jeanie. I tried to remember where she told me she would be but I wasn't really listening. The last thing I remember was, "That sounds like a lot of fun."

The warm cars and the foggy burly buses passed me on the way home. It looked like everyone was having fun and I was left alone and cold. The wind pushed me on home, which was a place I dreaded to be on New Year's Eve.

## NEW YORK 2001

New Year

MY NEW year started with a cramp and a bladder full of peachy champagne. I noticed that Eddie wasn't in bed and I was sleeping on the wrong end of the bed with my feet resting on top of the pillow. The screaming of the Grand Army Plaza crowd still bawled in my head. Then I remembered that we ended up at Leo's party.

Roxy eyed me from the kitchen as she sliced up a brownie. I stayed bumping-close to Eddie as we followed Leo into his bedroom. His bedroom was covered in a jungle of floral patterns.

"Is she okay?"

"I'm fine," I sung out.

"What did you give her?" Leo smirked.

"Eddie, you're sure this is a good idea?" My voice sounded so awful. I started to cough as my body bounced on their springy bed.

"She's all right. We smoked up. I got some good shit."

"You bring any, you bum?"

Eddie threw the baggie on the bed.

My eyes gaped at the floral-patterned rug. I could feel that this was a bad idea. I soundlessly stepped onto a cushioned pink flower. Eddie and Leo took a big snort of cocaine and then I saw the washroom. It looked cozy, white, and blank of anything floral.

"Viv, you'll feel better." Eddie held my arm.

"No. I'm gonna go to the washroom."

"What the fuck's the washroom?" Leo bellowed as he snorted. "You're gonna do laundry?"

"She means the bathroom," Eddie explained.

I locked the door and checked it three times to make sure it was locked and then I stared at the white Jacuzzi tub.

The white tub was my last memory of New Year's Eve.

"Wake up! Viv, wake up! I've got dinner." Eddie nudged me awake.

"What time is it?"

"Almost six."

"Ugh," I groaned.

"Come and eat. Babe, I'm sorry I didn't get the phone."

"I didn't even hear it."

"Aw, Paul's gonna kill me."

"Why?"

" 'Cause I missed work."

"You're not fired?"

"Na, he'll scream and make it hard for me. Trust me, it's not the first time. Anyway, I couldn't drive. I couldn't even open my freaking eyes."

"What time did we go to bed?"

"You fell asleep in their bathroom. Leo helped me bring you home."

"Oh, it was a good new year?"

"It was great."

"I'm not doing that again."

"What? The bong?"

"Yeah. I don't even like weed."

"You shouldn't have done so much," Eddie told me as he stuffed a bunch of salty fries into his mouth.

## WOLSTON 1994

New Year

IT WAS the first week of the new year and Eric Hubert wanted to carry my landscape paintings in his café. And then Marlo called me.

"Vivian, you're not eating dinner are you?"

"I just finished," I told her as my parents dug into their salads. My mom whispered to my dad, "It's New York calling."

"I'm calling you because I want those paintings, and I want to see all your new paintings."

"Really? That's great."

"I didn't want to seem like a hog. I know that Maddy still wants paintings."

"That's fine."

"Really? Because I was thinking I won't be using them until the spring and that's if everything is on plan with the opening."

"Marlo, that's totally fine."

"Which ones does Maddy want?"

"She really likes the landscape ones, and I'm giving Eric—"

"Hubert?"

"Yeah," I squeaked into the phone, wondering why I told her that when she hates Eric.

"Oh. That's great news, Viv. So you're going to be painting more landscape paintings?"

"I don't know. I haven't really started anything yet."

"What do you want to paint?"

"Ladies." I sighed into the phone as I picked at my holey jeans.

"Good. I'm so relieved. The _Ugly Monsters_ are gems."

"Thanks. I'll send you pictures of the new ones."

"That would be great."

"So how is the bar coming?"

"It's a nightmare, but it should get better. When I got home there was a water burst and my ceiling looks really bad, but nothing got damaged that was mine and the firemen were down so that wasn't so bad." Marlo giggled.

"Were they cute?"

"Oh, yeah. Dreamy. When are you and Alex coming?"

"Sometime. We haven't set a date yet," I mumbled into the phone.

"Just putting the vibe out. Aw, shit. I gotta go, but send me the pics."

"Okay."

My mom's hurried footsteps crept into my bedroom. "That was Marlo?"

"Yeah, she wants my paintings."

"Vivvy, that's great." My mother gave me a hug.

"The bar doesn't open until the spring. So we'll see. It's really too soon to tell."

"It's good news. You're going to have to go out there."

"Yeah, I know."

"Your year has started off pretty good."

"Yeah, I guess it has."
January 14

MY BIG toe was waning through the socks that Alex got me for my birthday. Alex broke up with me and everybody still assumed that I was with him.

I stood up and decided to get dressed and go and see him. Then there was my Christmas gift from Santa Clause, the black suitcase. I stripped off my smelly coffee clothes and put my pajamas on. I couldn't go see him. I knew he would ask me again about moving in and I couldn't. I didn't make enough money to pay for rent, supplies, and a trip to New York.

It was snowing again after work and I noticed a familiar tall dark lump standing in the corner. Alex's toque was gathering a clump of snowflakes and he looked cold with his dirty sneakers shuffling against the sidewalk.

"Hey." He flicked the cigarette's butt into the snow. "You look warm."

"How long have you been waiting here?"

He looked away. "Not long." His sore eyes looked back at me. "I'm sorry, Viv."

"Come on." I took him inside the pub.

He took off his toque and I noticed his fingertips were red. "You're so cold," I told him as I blew on them.

"Vivvy, you're really something." He removed a strand of hair from my lips. "You're not mad at me?"

"No, I missed you. I thought you were mad at me. I'm sorry."

"Viv, I'm sorry that I was a prick and I ruined New Year's." I looked at him and smiled. "I'm sorry. I love you." His thumb fell onto my lips. "I missed your lips." He gave me a kiss. "You'll come home with me tonight?"

"Yes. Let's forget about it."

After the pub we fought through the bitter wind that was blowing hard icicles into our faces.

"I told you I loved you," he reminded me.

"And what did I say?"

"Nothing."

"I kissed you."

"Did you?"

"I did." I gave him a kiss. "I love you too."

"You know," He flicked his nose, "that the moment has passed."

"Come on."

"Viv, you were too late, but you can make it up to me."

"I can?" I asked as my finger touched his bottom lip. I kissed him.

"It has to be more than that."

I gave him another kiss as my fingers moved down to his cold jeans and I felt his hard cock.

"Sweetie, go inside." He slapped my ass and it felt good.

## NEW YORK 2001

January 5

IT SNOWED. The snow covered the street and all the garbage in the trash cans, and New York had never seemed so pristine, so perfect.

My feet slid on the sparkling snowy sidewalk down to Eddie's old place. I knew Eddie was there because his footprints decorated the stairs. He was lying on his broken beloved couch with his eyes closed and his tongue hanging out, looking dead. He was good at it.

I touched his cheek, wanting to freeze him to life with my chilly hands. He still didn't stir. Then I checked his pulse. His eyes opened.

"You're supposed to give me air."

"I wasn't going to kiss any dead guy."

"Your fingers are like icicles."

"I thought that this place was rented?" I asked, taking a warm sip of whiskey from the bottle.

"Not till February. I love this couch. I love how you sink right in and then you can't get up."

"That's not coming."

"That futon-couch is crap. It hurts my back. I'm gonna have to see a chiropractor about it."

"Are you gonna sue me?"

"I'll think about it."

"Are you done packing?"

"Na. I sat down, and I couldn't get up. Let's go for a drink. I'll pack up tomorrow, I promise." He kissed my neck.

## WOLSTON 1994

January 22

AT THE bar, I picked out the coffee grains from under my nails. Jeanie was mad at me because I broke off our girls' night. I sort of felt guilty for canceling our night out over some bogus dinner party that my parents wanted me to attend. The truth was that Alex had called me at work and told me he wasn't working that night because there was a car crash and the groom was in a coma. So he wanted to go out and I didn't want to say no to Alex.

"Why don't we go to your uncle's?" I asked.

"Why do you wanna go there?"

"Because then we don't have to pay."

"Viv, you're so cheap." He brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. "Mike is meeting us."

"Why?" I whined at him.

"Why?" he whined back, and then he laughed. "Jeff has moved out."

"He made up with Lisa?"

"Na. He fucking got himself arrested." Alex blew out a big puff of smoke.

"Oh, my God."

"He'll be okay."

"Why is he in jail? When did this happen?"

"My uncle apparently thinks that he robbed his hotel. He got arrested today. It's messed up."

"Did he rob your uncle?"

"Fuck, no." Alex started to laugh.

"You're laughing. You're so fucking disturbed, Alex."

"Tragic." He choked out the word.

"Yeah." I stole his smoke as I thought about jittery Jeff sitting in prison with no drugs. "Poor Jeff."

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry about it."

"How can you say that?"

" 'Cause Jeff's been there before." His cold fingers touched my chin. "Seriously, Jeff will be okay."

"You're so cold." I grabbed his hands. "Why don't you get proper gloves?" I blew on his fingers.

"That's what I've got to fucking get." Mike pointed at me.

"What?" I asked.

"A girl to blow me."

"Ha, ha, ha."

"You two are so fucking cute."

"How was your date?"

"Hasn't happened."

"Is it the blonde one?" Alex tried to explain with his long fingers emphasizing big breasts.

"The stripper Champagne?"

"You've met her?" I asked Alex.

"Jesus, no. Mike's been seeing this stripper and he talks about her all the time. Mike the unlovable seems in love."

Mike grunted into a laugh.

"What are you laughing about?" I asked him as he winked at me.

"It must be that scotch. It makes him fucking cackle like a girl," commented Alex.

"Oh, Champagne. Poor girl. She has this idea that I'm the committing kind."

"You've got to give her credit. She's got one part right, though. You should be committed."

He smiled. "Fuck, she gives a nice lap dance too. A lot of talent, that one. You should see her work the stage. A natural."

"Did she give you both a lap dance for free?"

"Free lap dance? No. I wish."

"What about you, Alex?"

"No, I've never been. That's Mike's thing. He says he goes for the buffet."

"They have a nice spread," Mike replied with a grunt.

Alex and Mike both laughed.

"Oh, fuck. You're so gross."

"It's called charm, babe. Anyway, Champagne keeps talking about finding the one. I swear strippers are fucking dumb."

"Isn't she from the Pas?"

"Yeah, she's a little horny half-breed."

"Does she know your mother?" Alex asked.

"Ha, ha, ha. You shut it. You leave my mother alone. She's the sweetest woman I've ever known. You know, that woman has never smacked me."

"That's because you didn't sleep with her," Alex told him.

"You shut it. Anyway, she's highly talented, the highest caliber. She made this video a while ago. Oh, fuck, was she sparkling. But she doesn't do that stuff anymore. She just strips."

"Who paid for her bosom?" Alex coughed out.

"Her ex-fiancé. She can go on about him. Viv, this video is before the implants."

"You've seen it?" I asked Alex, watching him get a little bit uncomfortable.

"No, Mike's told me about it."

"We're over now and I'm left with just the memories and the video. Life ain't so fucking bad. Listen to this: if Jeff wasn't arrested, I was going to introduce him to Champagne. She seems more like his type, and he needs a clean gorgeous woman instead of the skanks he ends up with."

"Have you seen Jeff?" Alex asked.

"Yeah. They're trying to charge him with breaking and entering. They don't have anything on him."

"What's going to happen to him?"

"He's gonna be out."

"Are you sure?" asked Alex.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Did you talk to your uncle?"

"No."

"They can't hold him. There's no proof. And it sounds like an inside job. What do you think, Alex?"

"Yeah."

"You should talk to your uncle and straighten it out. Just tell him something can be worked out."

"Yeah, I will. Did you talk to Jeff's mom?"

"Yeah, she's on the rampage." He lit a smoke. "So what's up with you guys?"

"We're gonna do it."

"And you need help?"

I punched him in the shoulder. "You're such a fucking perv'. We're thinking about going to New York in May."

"That's good news. For how long?"

"About a week."

"My brother is in Mexico. I could have fucking went. The only reason I didn't go was because of that wedding and it didn't even happen. I could be out there lying on the beach. Ah, Mexico. That's a fucking dream."

"What happened to the groom?"

"I don't know. He's alive, I think. Last I heard he was in a coma." Mike looked around the bar. "All I know is I could be in Mexico."

"So who's your hot date?"

"The lucky girl is Michelle. Very pretty. She's got loads of potential. She's a hostess at Perky's."

"Was it the uniform?"

"Tonight he's a fucking comedian."

"Aren't you going to be late?"

"I am late, and that's part of the plan."

"You're not being a heart surgeon again?" Alex asked with a pained expression.

"No. Fuck, no. Hey, you guys, I got the video in my car or you guys could go see Champagne. She's performing tonight."

"No thanks."

"Anyway, tomorrow night we'll see Twigger do his thing." He smiled and gave me a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "See ya."

"I hope you get blue balls!" I shouted at him.

Alex squeezed my shoulder. "I missed you." He kissed the back of my neck.

"I think Mike got you horny."

"Na. You're just too pretty."

"When did you go see strippers?"

"Darling, that was ages ago before I knew you."

"Really?"

"Look at me." I stared into his puppy-dog blue eyes. "I would never do that. I'm not Mike."

"But you know what Champagne looks like before and after. When did you meet her?"

"Baby, he's got a photo of her, and that's it. I haven't even met her. Honestly."

"What about the video?"

"Jesus, no. That's Mike again. He's sick like that; you know that. It was just a photo, that's it."

"A photo?"

"Yeah, a photo. Mike's a perv'."

"Okay. All right. I get it. You're innocent." Alex's gold necklace gleamed in the tangle of his sparse chest hair.

## NEW YORK 2001

January 6 and beyond

EDDIE WOKE me up with a sloppy minty kiss.

"Viv, I'll meet you later at the old place. There's only a couple more boxes, all right?"

My lips moved.

"Hey, Viv? You hear me?" He shook my shoulder.

"Yeah, your place."

The bed sprung to life as he plunked on it to pull up his socks.

"Viv, give me a kiss."

"Go away, Eddie. I stink."

"Come on."

"Oh, God. There you go." I gave him a quick kiss on his pasty mouth.

It was a cloudy cold day. It was a day that I wanted to just stay inside instead of fighting through the wind to get to Eddie's old place.

Eddie's door was locked, which meant Eddie was stuck in traffic, so I used the key that he gave me. The bedroom was bare except for two empty boxes.

I went outside and then I noticed Paul.

"Vivian!" he shouted at me.

"I couldn't find her number!" Marla yelled.

"She's right here!"

I waved up to Marla, and she looked at me in a frenzy.

"We've got to get to the hospital!" Paul grabbed my arm.

"What?" I asked as I got into the backseat. "What happened? Is Eva in the hospital? Is she okay?"

"Eddie, he was in an accident."

"Is he all right?"

"He's—"

"We don't know. But let's hope and pray that everything is all right!" Marla kissed the gold cross around her neck.

And I sat there hoping everything was all right, was fine. I didn't want to think of Eddie as the past. I still saw him coming through the door. All this was a bad day. It happens to everybody.

At the hospital a nurse stopped us and Marla asked about Eddie Scozzari. The nurse directed us and we walked up the hall, which seemed so dreary with its clean bright lights. Marla stopped and whispered to me that he was on life support. I stood there stunned, staring until I was numb at the tubes, monitor screens, and him with a thick bandage wrapped around his head. My fingers pinched my lips. I couldn't understand. He was lying there but he should have been back at our place having a drink with me.

I went to Eddie and held his hand, which was still warm and rough. I thought as I felt each finger that maybe this could pull him out.

"Eddie. Eddie." His name felt distant and small on the tip of my tongue. My mouth kept saying it as my cold hands warmed up with his. And I thought that was a good sign.

Out of the blue two big hands pulled me out of the room. The hands had hairy knuckles and a big diamond ring. It was Paul.

"What can we do?" Marla asked.

"Pray. Fucking Jesus."

I didn't want to believe this. I wanted to be at the pub having our drink together with his arm around me, and he'd whisper some stupid pick-up line that would make me smile and then he'd kiss me. Instead my eyes were fat with tears.

"It's gonna be all right. We just gotta pray. Eddie's tough." Paul put his arm around me.

I prayed to God that I would be good—no more drinking—and that I would visit home more often and be a nice person for a change if only Eddie would live and be in my arms again.

A tear escaped my eye and tumbled onto my chin, and my lips mouthed frantically, "Eddie, Eddie, Eddie."

Nurses rushed into his room and Paul stood up as he wiped his eyes. I was about to get up with him but he squeezed my shoulder.

"I'll go."

"Is he okay?" I asked.

"I'll check it out," he told me as he carefully moved to where Eddie lay.

Paul's hands rested on his head like he was trying to communicate with one of the nurses. Then his hands crushed his face.

Tears, my tears came down and Marla reached for me and we cried on each other's shoulder.

"Tell me I'm dreaming?" I asked her softly. "Please tell me."

Paul led me to Eddie. He was tubeless this time. I touched the white bed and then I flung myself onto Eddie and he was still warm. I moved his arms on top of me hoping that I'd feel his hug but there was nothing. My fingers trembled as I touched his cheeks, wanting so badly to bring him back, wanting him not to forget me. I kissed his cheek—then I whispered, "Eddie." Repeating his name until Eddie was dry in my mouth. I told him, "I love you." I kissed his lips. I kissed him again and rested on his chest—he was empty.

Then his hand rested on me and he gave me a kiss on my cheek. My eyes fluttered into Paul's red eyes.

"Let's go home, Viv," he said. "It's going to be all right." He kissed my brow again. "I'll drive you home, okay?"

"Thanks, Paul, but I think I'll walk. I need to. I just need to."

"I understand." He hugged me. "If you need anything, you know where to find us. This is the worst." He gave me a kiss again. "I can't believe this."

Marla flew into my arms and we held each other as she cooed similar words to me. Then I found myself hug-less and walking down the hallway by myself.

The night's chilly air froze my face as I stumbled onto the icy sidewalk. At each street I crossed I wished a car would hit me, but there were none. My coat blew open and I could feel a chill enter my body. It felt good not to feel warm.

Once I made it to my building, I walked past it. I walked back up to Third Street and people were pushing by in their big parkas. My hands felt stiff, my lips didn't even feel a part of me, and my tears felt like sharp icicles.

Then I remembered the two boxes at Eddie's old place.

His place was freezing because I had forgotten to turn the heat on. I huffed and puffed with the box hoping that death would catch me.

I plopped the box on the floor of my apartment and headed back again to get the second box. I had to finish the job and then he would be moved in.

In his old apartment I made sure that there was nothing else he wanted. I looked in the fridge and opened up the pizza box. There were two mold-speckled slices left. I looked in the freezer and it was a twinkling glacier.

The cupboards were empty but the sink had his last bottle of Canadian Club. I picked up the bottle and it was dry, not even a drop left. I left it.

I carried the last box home.

Again I went back to Eddie's apartment to make sure everything was all right. I checked the cupboards and closets twice, and it was all good. I touched his spot on the couch and then I carefully sank in it.

He would never come through his door to meet me again. My nails dug into the couch not wanting to let it go. The prickly floral pattern pulled at my hair and stunk as my tears moistened the fabric.

After I woke up, I walked in the morning sunshine. Cars slushed by me and the dirty wet snow soaked my shoes.

My feet felt frozen as I walked into my apartment. I took off my coat and clothes and stood mesmerized by the bed. My stiff body warily went underneath the sheets and I squeezed the life out of his pillow.

I dreamed it was all a mistake and by some miracle he would come back and I would hear his key turning in the lock—coming home to me.

Every footstep I heard on the ratty staircase woke me up and I prayed it was him, but the feet moved on.

The next day I woke up to Paul yelling in the answering machine that if I didn't pick up the phone, he was coming over. I thought maybe Paul was coming over to tell me that Eddie had sprung to life. And maybe Paul would bring Eddie home to me. I saw Eddie so clearly, coming home with a happy smile and he'd tell me, "Jesus, you wouldn't believe what happened to me."

A knock filled the silent apartment, and I jumped out of bed.

"I'm coming."

I couldn't wait to wrap my arms around Eddie as I opened the squeaky door. My stomach twisted when I saw a grave-looking Paul.

"Viv."

I looked down at my feet as I tugged at my T-shirt to cover my panties.

"Paul." I walked away from him to put on jeans. "What?"

He stood there in the dark holding a casserole dish. "You don't look good. Why don't you answer your phone?"

" 'Cause I don't feel like talking."

"Marla made this for you. It's lasagna."

"Thanks." I reached for it.

"I'll put it in the fridge," he told me as he went to the kitchen. "Why don't you come over?"

My feet curled against the cool wooden floor. "I'm okay. I just need time. You didn't hear anything else, did you?"

"What do you mean?" He turned the light on and sat down on the futon, right beside Eddie's spot.

"About Eddie?"

"The funeral?"

"No, is he really gone?"

"Why don't you come and stay with us for a while until the funeral's over? You know there's nothing like family."

"Is he gone?"

"Viv, you were there."

"Yeah, I know. I just thought that maybe, you know, maybe there was a mistake. I should have stayed there longer. I just kind of raced out. I wasn't thinking. I should've stayed, you know, to make sure."

Paul put his hands on my arms and I glared at them, and then I noticed I was wearing Eddie's white T-shirt. My head sank and my sore throat gasped for air and Paul squeezed me into a hug. "It's okay. Viv, he's gone to a better place. Why don't you come home with me?"

I pulled away. "I... No, I can't."

"Viv?"

"Paul, look, I'll be okay. I just need time. Just let me be alone."

"Okay. Make sure you eat something."

"Yeah."

"Did you want me to stay?"

"No."

"Okay. We'll get through this." He hugged me.

"Paul, what about the funeral?"

"I'm sorry. I almost forgot. You know, I still can't believe he's gone." His eyes winced. "I'll let you know. Everything is being arranged. Answer your phone."

"Okay."

"I need Eddie's suit."

"For what?"

"You know, it's an open."

"Oh. I'll get it."

"I can get it."

"No. I'll get it, Paul." I pulled out his only suit, which was black, a white shirt, and his deep blue tie. "I guess his eyes will be closed. The tie always brought out his eyes."

"It's fine, Viv." Paul took it from me. "We'll get through this."

I watched him leave. The howling January wind carried the sour-trash scent from below into my apartment.

Time passed by me as I stayed in bed or pecked at Marla's lasagna in the dark. The dishes in the sink were from before Eddie died, and I didn't want to touch them. I wanted to keep everything the way it was. It was little pieces of Eddie that were still here—alive.

The door lunged at me and I heard Paul shout my name several times. It felt like a far away dream. Finally, I sat up in bed and took my time putting on a pair of Eddie's sweat pants. They still had the smell of his detergent.

"Viv?"

He came in and turned on the lights and gawked at me as I curled into the wall.

"Viv, you don't look good. You should've called."

I felt my chapped lips. "What do you want?"

"You should really clean up this place."

"Yeah, it hasn't crossed my mind yet."

"Have you been eating?"

"Yes, Marla's lasagna was wonderful, Paul." I shrugged. My legs were too tired to remain standing.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to bed. I'm not feeling well."

"You don't look good. Did you want to come over?"

"I think I'm catching something."

"Why don't you stay with us? You'll feel better."

"Na." I sighed. "What do you want? I'm tired. Did you want the lasagna plate back? I'm still eating it."

"Viv, the funeral is tomorrow. Marla tried calling you. Did you get her messages?"

"Funeral. No, I didn't get her messages. I don't even remember the phone ringing."

"I'll pick you up tomorrow, okay?"

"Sure. Yeah."

"Wear something black, okay?"

"I am."

"A black dress. Marla could come and help you get ready."

"I'm fine. I know to wear a black dress." He looked at me. "What, Paul?"

"You don't seem good."

"How do you want me to be? I'm trying here. Look, I just need to be alone for a while."

"I don't want to leave you alone."

"Paul." I squinted at him.

"Viv, I—"

"Paul, what time are you picking me up?"

"Around noon."

"Okay." I opened the door for him. "I'll be dressed and ready, okay?" I told him as I tried really hard to keep myself composed so he didn't end up dragging me home.

"Okay, you better be there." He pointed at me before wrapping his big arms around me for a hug. "I don't want to see anything happen to you, you know."

"Yeah." My head fell heavy on his chest. It felt good to feel something warm and heavy and beating.

"Eddie wouldn't want you to be hurt."

"Okay, yeah. I'll be there tomorrow."

"Good, glad to hear it." He squeezed me hard. "We'll get through this."

"We will," I responded, not believing a word of it and not wanting to let him go.

"Okay, see you tomorrow."

I peeled my arms away from his solid body.

On my own I went into my normal descent of despair: lying on the bed, crying into Eddie's pillow, and falling asleep. The dreams were all the same. Eddie was there and sometimes I could swear he was sleeping right beside me. I could hear his heartbeat and feel his breath rushing over my head, and once in a while I felt his hand squeezing my shoulder.

I tried to stay asleep. It was horrible feeling my eyes flutter open and my hand searching for him. All I found was a cold pillow.

My face was full of makeup and I slipped on a black dress and then I remembered that this was Eddie's favourite dress for showing me off.

It was eleven forty-four and I sat beside Eddie's spot on the futon with my heavy winter coat on. I picked up Eddie's glass and felt the sticky residue of his whiskey. My pale-rouge lips touched the rim of the glass and it still smelled of his whiskey.

I went to the kitchen and I ignored the dishes in the sink. I looked in the cupboard and saw a half-empty whiskey bottle. In my pocket there was a pack of cigarettes. I stared at the liquor. I couldn't do it. I couldn't do it alone.

"You're sure you'll have room for me?" I asked as I saw their kids in the backseat.

"No problem," she said, opening the back door. "There's lots of room."

"Hey, Viv," Paul said, looking over at me. "You look a lot better."

"Yeah, thanks, Paul."

We passed by the cold grey streets. You could tell it was another miserable frigid day as people left a trail of breath-exhaust behind them.

"It's fucking freezing today."

"Paul." Marla nudged her head back to indicate the kids.

"Kids, never repeat what I just said or you're going to have soap in your mouths for days. Understand me?"

"Yes, Daddy."

"Where's Eva?" I asked.

"She's already there. We were all gonna go in a limo."

"That would have been so amazing," commented Sophia.

"Ma went in the limo."

"I wish you and Viv would have went with her. I don't like her being alone."

"She's fine. We'll go back together. I told her that."

"Are we going in a limo?" asked Sophia.

"No, we're not," Marla told Sophia.

"Mom, you said yesterday we were."

"The plans have changed."

"That's not fair."

"Sophia, please stop."

At the funeral home Marla took the kids and Paul stayed with me. There was the _Edwin Scozzari_ sign that directed us in the direction of Eddie, Eddie resting in his coffin.

We entered the parlour. A small woman in black was kneeling and praying by his casket, and I knew it was Eddie's mother. I held both of my hands together, squeezing them so tight that I wanted to break every single bone in them.

Eddie was resting so peacefully in the coffin, even though the coffin wouldn't let him turn around on his side. He never rested on his back for too long.

Eddie in death just didn't seem right. His skin colour looked too powdery and there was a forever-peaceful look on his face that I'd never seen before. Paul led me to my seat as Eva stayed kneeling, twisting a rosary around her crooked fingers.

The rest of the parlour was filling up and I heard the voices of Leo and his wife. Paul handed me a memorial card. On the front of the card was a glorious Jesus who was touching his heart. On the other side of the card was a recent picture of Eddie with his birth date and death date and a prayer:

_Guardian Angel from heaven so bright,_

_watching beside me to lead me aright,_

_fold thy wings round me,_

_and guard me with love,_

_softly sing songs to me of heaven above._

_Amen._

"It's horrible to attend your child's funeral. At least Eddie is in heaven with his father. Every night we should pray for Eddie. He needs to hear it." Eva looked over at me. Her face was wrinkly with tears.

"You poor thing. You were so good for Eddie. I've never seen him so happy. I just wanted to let you know that." She tapped my hand. "You don't know how it feels to see your child happy when most of his life he's been disappointed. You're an angel." She kissed my hand.

"Thank you," I managed to say.

"You'll be all right." She grabbed my chin. "You should go up and say goodbye to him. Now's the time."

I listened to her and there he was with his features contorted to look natural, and I noticed his lips were sallow, slightly smiling. He was wearing his work suit and the blue tie that I liked to strangle him in for a kiss.

I straightened out his tie for him as he lay there—hoping still to feel a heartbeat or at least have his hand reach for me.

I whispered to him, "Eddie, I love you." I gave his still lips one more kiss.

Somehow I found myself sitting next to Eva again. I rubbed away the tears and I wanted so badly to hide underneath the chairs and never come out.

The priest came and the ceremony passed. The priest's voice washed over me as I prayed selfishly for Eddie to come back alive.

Again I blacked out and I found myself in a limo with Paul and Eva.

"Where are Marla and the kids?"

"Marla has them," Paul replied.

It was a short drive. Eddie's coffin was already there waiting on the frozen ground.

Eddie's mother took my hand. "My poor son. May God take care of you now."

My body shivered and my toes felt frostbitten. My dry eyes closed and I still saw Eddie alive, Eddie trying to get me to dance. The word "Amen" woke me up from my short daydream. Then the coffin descended into the ground. Eddie was gone and I stared hard at the descending coffin as Eva wailed in Paul's arms.

I thought maybe I was cursed and that his death was my fault because my angel was punishing me.

Marla shook me. "Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"We're going to get something to eat now. Aren't you hungry?"

"Yeah," I told her, trying to look straight into her eyes.

"Good." She grinned. "Crystal, come on. You two stop playing around." She put her arm around me. "After you eat you'll feel a lot better."

"Thanks," I told her as I got into the limo.

At the reception hall it was busy with laughter and kids crashing into people with tiny plates full of sweets.

"Jesus, Sophia. Leave Tommy alone! Come and sit down and eat. Now!"

"I'm trying to get him to eat," Sophia explained to Marla as she waved a baby corn in front of Tommy's face.

"Sophia!" she shouted. "Now!"

Eva sat down and Paul leaned over to her. "Ma, you want coffee?"

"Yeah."

"Ma, go and get something to eat. The food is great," commented Marla.

"Sure," she replied flatly.

Eva and I walked over to the food table. I took a strawberry and a bunch of grapes. I nibbled on the food and the coffee left my throat scratchy.

Someone tapped my shoulder and I turned around to Leo and Roxy Karpinski. I stood up and gave them a trying smile.

Roxy's lipstick-lips frowned. "I am so sorry, Vivian." Roxy sway-hugged me.

"Hey, he was an incredible guy. He was the best," Leo added.

"Yeah." I glanced around to try to fight back tears. "He was."

Paul slapped Leo on his back. "Hey. We're having dinner back at our place. You're invited."

I slipped down into my seat.

Eva tapped my arm. "I need a smoke. What do you say?"

"Okay."

"Let's go outside." Eva took my hand.

There was already a chair outside and she sat down on it as we had a smoke.

"I bet you can't wait until this day is over too. A mother should never have to go through this," she said as she puffed hard on her cigarette. "Poor Edwin. I keep telling myself that Bruno is with him. You know, I'm going to pray for the both of them tonight." She bent her head as she took a tissue from her sleeve. I hugged her. "I'll be all right."

"Hey, what's going on?" Paul asked. "Ma, are you all right?"

"Sure, yeah. I miss Edwin." Paul gave his mother a big hug as I stood away with my eyes glossing over.

"I miss him too, Ma."

"Okay, all right, Paulie. I'll be all right."

"Did you want to go back inside?" he asked his mother.

She grabbed the rosary underneath her black clothes. "I think, Paulie, that I need to go home and pray."

"Okay. Viv, did you want to come with us?"

"Yes," I told them. I didn't want to go back inside and see everybody that Eddie knew, especially his friends. I wanted to be alone.

"I'm happy to get away too," Paul told us in the limo. "It's really hard facing his friends and co-workers. I thought it would be good, but it feels too soon."

In front of my building I watched Desiree jump out of a BMW wearing a skimpy shiny white outfit. Paul held my arm as I held the door handle.

"If you need anything at all let me know, okay? I'm here for you and so is Marla, okay?"

"Yeah, I'll be okay."

"Make sure you come over for dinner tonight."

"Yeah, I will. I'm tired," I mumbled as I felt the windowpane.

"Did you want me to come inside?"

"No, I'll be okay."

"Answer your phone, or I'll come see you personally."

"Yeah, I will."

"I mean it, Vivian."

"Okay," I told him.

"Viv. Take care of yourself. You're young. You've got a whole life ahead of you."

"Sure. Bye, Paul."

I raced up the stairs into the dark apartment. My high heel shoes and coat fell to the ground and I yanked off the dress. From his half of the closet I picked out his blue shirt that I always loved him in. The shirt and me fell onto the bed.

## WOLSTON 1994

February

THE DANCING crowd shoved me against the wall as I finished my drink. My monster ladies seemed to have followed me and I needed to get back to the studio. Madeline wanted more landscape paintings and they were so hard to do because each painting I started turned into a monster painting.

Mike squeezed his way through the dancing crowd to get to me with new drinks.

"He's fucking fantastic, isn't he?"

"Yeah." I looked at Mike and then I took a gulp of my drink. "Mike? Mike?"

"What?"

"I'm not feeling well."

"What?"

"I'm not feeling well. I gotta go."

"You had too much to drink?"

"No, I think I'm getting sick. Like the flu. Just tell Alex I'm sorry."

The studio was still warm. I left the heaters on even though my dad wanted me to try to minimize the use of them because they were costing him a fortune.

I put on my heavy sweater. I rushed into the painting and painted a blue sky followed by a black twiggy tree. I paused and then I painted in the bright snow, painting it thick.

The painting looked horrible when I was done, so I started another one to get it done with and that one came out the same way. I stood back from the messy landscapes and they seemed to get better the longer I stared at them. In the first painting, the snow was too thick. I rubbed it into the night sky.

I blew my nose, feeling the fumes heavy in my stomach. Then my knees crashed to the floor and I was sick. It tasted bittersweet as it landed on the cracked cement floor.

The next morning passed into the early afternoon. My pillow was drool-puddled wet and my churning stomach forced me to stay in bed.

My dream had me back in the studio still painting the tree. And then I noticed the floor was wet but the water was nice and warm like a hot bath. I looked back at the painting and it was white, so I painted another tree. My toes curled and I looked down at the cooling water. Then my mom came in and her dark eyes gaped at me.

"Vivvy, what are you doing?"

"Painting."

She pointed at my feet.

My feet waved at me as the water climbed to my thighs. I looked back at my mother and then I was in my bed. It took me a while to realize that I was actually in bed and that I had peed my bed. My clothes stuck to me like a new skin.

The shower made me groggy and the coffee jabbed at my stomach. In the kitchen I could hear the Saturday afternoon mystery on full blast and my dad was munching on nuts. I ate the cold, tough scrambled eggs and the sticky white-fatty bacon as I nursed my headache. The phone broke me out of my late breakfast and I let the answering machine get it since my dad didn't bother to answer it.

"Hey, Viv, give me a call. It's Alex."

I sighed and felt guilty. The phone rang again and I let it ring through to the answering machine as loud gunfire popped from the TV.

"Viv, I know you're there. Pick up. It's Jeanie. Remember me? I knew you before Alex. Give me a call."

I erased them both and went back into the studio. The two landscape paintings looked okay and were a little bit loose. I was pretty sure Madeline would like them.

Out of the thick silence the door creaked open and my mom's head appeared.

"It stinks in here. Are the fans on?"

"Yep."

"Oh, God. That one's broken."

"The other one is working."

"Oh, God, Vivvy."

"Mom, what do you want?"

"I picked up dinner. Are you going out with Jeanie?"

"I don't know," I told my mom, knowing that I was feeling a fake cold come over me.

"Are those new?" She pointed at the two landscapes.

"Yeah, they're for Madeline."

"They're great." She looked at them carefully. "They're loose. It looks good. You're evolving."

"Yeah."

"That's good, Vivvy. Have you heard from Eric?"

"No, not yet."

"And the ladies are for Marlo?"

"Yeah. If she likes them."

"Vivvy, let's eat."

I glared at the white smudges on the dark blue sky.
February 11-14

MY DAYS off were already used up and I lay there listening to the tinny clock radio blaring Mariah Carey. My reluctant eyes closed. I woke up an hour later and realized that Jeanie was already at work and I was ten minutes late.

My nose felt full of morning congestion and my body still ached for a warm sleep. My head repeated that I had a cold, a cold I felt coming over me. I made sure to do a good job of a stuffy-sounding nose followed by the same persistent cough I had yesterday when Jeanie answered the phone. "Oh, Jeanie, I'm so sorry. I was hoping it was a one-day thing but I just feel like shit," I told her, trying to remember my sick lingo.

"Jeez, Viv, you've totally got to take better care of yourself. You've got to take your vitamins. Get better."

"You're sure, Jeanie?"

"Yeah. Don't worry. I'll give that new girl a try. I'll talk to you later. Bye."

My mom came into the room. "I thought I heard you awake. Don't you work?"

"I traded shifts."

"Oh, sorry, I'll let you sleep."

"Mom, could I use the car?"

"If you're ready in about fifteen minutes."

My pretend sick day gave me time to drop off my new paintings for Madeline. When I got home I veggied out on the couch and channel flipped at my leisure while enjoying some fast food junk.

I got restless and all I could think about was Alex. So I called him and he answered with his grumpy hello.

"Alex, I was thinking about you." I bit hard on my lip.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better. I'm sorry I didn't call. I've been sort of tired. God, I was such a mess."

"Yeah."

"Is Jeff home yet?"

"No, it doesn't look so good."

"What? Why?"

"They found some evidence that points to him."

"Have you seen him?"

"Not yet."

"Is he going to be charged?"

"It's pretty bad."

"Yeah, no shit. Do you know what they found?"

"No, not too sure. He's talking to his lawyer."

"That sucks. You think he'll be okay?"

"Viv, it's not the first time for him. I gotta go."

"Did you want me to come over?"

"I don't want to get sick."

"I'm feeling better. I'm like a 100 percent. It's my day off."

"I gotta go."

"Oh, okay. I go to work tomorrow." He hung up before I could ask him to meet me.

The next day I went to work hoping to see Alex, but he never showed up and my calls went unanswered. In the meantime, Jeanie told me that the new girl had quit and that she recommended me to fill in her shifts. She told me I would be making lots of money and we could rent an apartment together this summer. She made sure to remind me that I had promised her a year ago. It was like she knew I was faking my colds and promises.

Then one night Jeanie did a surprise attack on me at home. She stood there in the entrance watching with a smile as I got up from my comfy chair.

"Look at you, you're home. You're not doing anything. Let's go out just for a drink."

"I'm watching _NYPD Blue_."

"You'll be out there soon enough. Come on. Don't make me beg, Vivian."

"Mom and Dad, I'm going out with Jeanie."

"It's so cold," I told her as I forced myself to put my coat on. "What do you want to do? Are we walking?" I wrapped the scarf around my neck.

"It's winter still. I think those oils are having an effect." She flashed a set of car keys in front of me. "Come on."

"You're driving?"

"Yep. You want to go to our spot?"

"The pub?"

"Yeah."

"But you're driving? Shouldn't we go for donuts?"

"Oh, Vivvy. If worse comes to worst, I'll sleep at your place. My parents got themselves a new car and they gave me this one. It's fantastic. We totally might be able to get a place this summer."

"Hockey night," Jeanie said as we walked into the noisy pub.

"What do you want?"

"Wine."

"Wine?"

"Yeah."

Since Jeanie didn't want a beer and I didn't want to spend the whole night in the crappy washrooms, I got a whiskey and Coke.

"So how are you and Alex doing these days?" She lit herself a smoke and offered me one.

"Fine. Actually, I think he might have broken up with me."

"What do you mean, you think?"

"He's kind of mad at me."

"What did you do?" Her eyes flickered as if she knew.

"I didn't do anything."

"Aw, come on. You always have to be such a tease about everything. Did you cheat on him?"

"No, nothing like that." I took a long inhale and blew it out trying to avoid the guilt in my head that I sucked being a girlfriend. "I don't know. It might have been that I left his show early. I told him I was sorry. I really didn't feel well and I had these paintings I had to get done. I promised the café that I'd have them done at the start of the week." I took a sip of the sweet liquor. "Anyway, it seems like I say the wrong things. He wanted me to move in with him and I told him no and he just got upset. My New Year's was spent walking home."

"Viv, I thought things with him were totally awesome. But this year you've been kind of shitty, you know, more than normal."

"Yeah, I know. I feel really bad about it. I really like him. I love him. I've never had anything like this." I coughed on the smoke.

"Fuck, Vivian. He's totally your first. Don't think so much about it. Chill out. How I see it is we're young, none of it is meant to last. We're supposed to be having the time of our lives."

"You really know how to make me happy."

"It's totally true. You're not going to marry him. It's like the job we have. It's not forever."

"I know I'm not going to marry him. I don't even know if I want to get married."

"Case in point."

"So you think he's over me?"

"I don't know. I think he would tell you it was over."

"What about you and Colin?"

"I thought I told you. We're totally finished. It's not a biggie, Viv. It was a while ago."

"You broke up with him?"

"It sort of just fell apart. I mean we were totally boring together. He wanted to do everything I did. It was like dating myself. Blah."

"That's so sad."

"Yeah, I just can't believe we dated for so long."

"Is that why he quit?"

"No. He moved to Calgary to study karate. He wants to teach it to kids."

"Why to Calgary?"

"I don't know. He has family out there and likes it there. I don't know. He's a good guy, you know."

Alex's memory nagged at me as Jeanie talked about Colin and then our summer apartment plan. I wanted so badly to see Alex, to hear him call me darling as he hooked my chin for a kiss.

"There goes our ride," Jeanie said as she returned with another round of drinks. "I really don't care. I need this." She snuggled her hands around the red wine. "Devon's cute. Devon, remember him? Your brother's friend? He's so cute. He could definitely hold my attention. Hey, if Alex doesn't take you back you could go with him. He was totally into you."

"Jeanie, that was just at a summer party. It was just a fling."

"He's so good looking. He has the perfect body."

"Why don't you go out with him?"

She sighed. "Don't worry, Vivvy, there's a hunk out there for me yet. I've just got to be patient."

"One more drink? Nightcap?"

"Totally."

I was about to get up but there was a big guy blocking my way.

"Looky what we got here." He sounded like a giant and the dark pub made it hard to see him. It's like he sucked up all the light in the place.

I looked up. "Oh, my God. Shanny."

"Where are you going? If Ethan knew."

"If Ethan knew what?" Devon asked as he shoved Shanny out of the way. "You two are having a good time?" Devon squeezed between us.

"It's girls' night," Jeanie gladly informed him.

"I like girls' night."

"Yeah, you sick fuck. I bet you do," Shanny commented.

"You do?" asked Jeanie with her lovely gaze on Devon like he was a god.

"Yeah, that's when you girls are the most fun." He poked at my sides and then caught my hand as I tried to smack him.

"She's a live one!" Shanny shouted.

"Jeanie." He touched her red hair. "You look exotic."

"Punk," she corrected him. "You like?"

"Yeah, rock and roll, baby."

"Let's go," Shanny said.

"Hey, you wanna come to my house? We're having a party."

"Sure," Jeanie said.

Devon smiled and then he squeezed me tightly. "Ethan's gonna kill me for corrupting his little sister."

"You are a sick fuck," I told him.

"That's what I was going for. Hey, Shanny, you're going home."

"What about the party?" Shanny asked.

"Cab home."

"I should go."

"You should go see Alex," Jeanie reminded me.

I swayed my way to Alex's in the freezing cold and then I kept buzzing and buzzing him until I heard the door buzz.

His floor seemed like such a dismal place with the light almost burning itself out. The tight hallway carpet felt so springy against my elephant feet that I almost fell a few times.

"Let me in! Alex!" I'd wanted to shout out his name all night.

The door unlocked and I almost fell onto him. He was in his white T-shirt and boxers and his gold necklace glinted like the pretty sparkling snow outside.

"It's late." He rubbed his eyes. I liked how his hair was a spiky mess on one side.

"Yeah, I know." I pushed his warm body aside and somehow I found myself on the couch.

"Why don't you go home?"

"I don't feel like it." I helped myself to a cigarette from the table. "Alex, I need something to drink."

He handed me a wet glass.

"Gin and tonic?" As soon as the cool glass of water touched my lips Alex killed my smoke.

"You should go home."

"No." I lied down on the couch. "I missed you so much, Alex."

My eyes struggled to keep open and the water had killed the buzz and made me forget everything I was going to say to him.

For a second I didn't recognize where I was but then my eyes noticed the record collection. I was at Alex's. I had a kink in my neck and my head pounded so hard it felt like my eyeballs were going to pop out. My need for the washroom made me run, and I banged my hip hard against the yellow ceramic tub.

The smell of burned toast woke me up from my sandwiched position between the toilet and the cold tub. I rinsed out my mouth and avoided looking at my pale face in the mirror.

Alex looked bright with a coffee and he grinned at me, knowing that I hated mornings, especially when I was hungover.

"Feel better?"

"I'm good. I should get going."

"I could make you a hot gooey breakfast of eggs?"

"Shut up."

"You look like shit. You should take a shower before you go home." I took off my coat and finally kicked off my shoes. I headed to the kitchen and had a drink of water, gulping it so fast that some of it fell over my chin and onto my shirt.

"Your mom called."

"What did you say?"

"That you were sleeping."

I sat on the chair.

"She wants you to call her before you go home. How are you feeling? You look like shit."

"You already told me that. Did you want me to go?" I asked.

"I wanted you to go last night."

"Yeah, I needed a place to crash." I rolled my eyes at him.

"Sure, Viv. Look, I need you to take a shower."

"What the fuck for?"

"I gotta go out."

"Then you can take the shower."

"No, I want you to take a shower because you smell and look like shit."

After the hot shower I grabbed a towel off the floor and wrapped my head, and I took another towel and wrapped my body.

"Give me my towel."

"Which one?" I asked, tossing my clothes on his bed.

"The one on your head."

I threw it at him, and he disappeared into the shower. My towel fell to the floor and I went under the sheets with my wet hair heavy on his soft pillow.

"Get up." He chucked the towel onto my face.

"I just need to rest a little bit," I mumbled into the pillow.

"Go home."

"I'll be gone before you know it."

"Viv?"

"Come on. Don't be a jerk. I just need a little shut-eye."

"Fuck, that's it." He nudged my cold shoulder.

My fist, tiny and bony and completely aimless, hit him in the chest. "Just leave me alone. I'll be gone. Fuck, Alex."

"Fine, but that's fucking it. I'm sick of you. I don't need this."

I snuggled the quilt closer to me and fell into a deep sleep. I didn't wake up until I heard my mom's voice over the answering machine. I looked at the clock and it was four in the afternoon.

I called home like a dutiful daughter but all I could think about was a cheeseburger and salty fries and a cool Coke jingling with ice.

"Hi, Mom."

"Vivian."

"I'm coming home now. I'm sorry I didn't call before."

"Don't do that again."

"Yes, I'm coming home now."

"Why didn't you call?"

"I was sick."

"I wish you wouldn't do that. It's not good for you."

"Yeah, okay. I'll be home right away."

"I'm not happy with you."

"I'm sorry, Mom."

"Come home now. Take a cab."

"Yes."

I quickly left Alex's place and hoofed down a fast food delight before I went home.

At home I got a talking to from my mom, who relied on guilt to make me feel bad. "It hurt her to see me this way." And as she said it, tears spurted into her eyes. My mother was good at making me into the baby. She got a hug and tears and a promise that I would never drink excessively again.

After dinner I got dressed and told them I would be back early tonight. I found myself with my belly full and my head on straight as I headed over to Alex's. I thought I could win him back with apologies.

"Hello?" Alex's voice rang over the door's intercom.

"Alex, it's me."

The silence made me buzz him again and I kept buzzing him until he responded.

"What do you want?" the tiny box shouted at me.

"I wanted to tell you I'm sorry and thanks for letting me spend the night. And I forgot something."

"What?"

"What, what?"

"What did you forget?"

"My stuff. I need to get my stuff. Just let me in."

"There's nothing here."

"I'm sorry."

"I know that."

"Just let me in. I wanna talk to you then I'll go." The long buzz pierced my ears.

I raced up the stairs hoping the door was unlocked like old times but it was locked. So I politely knocked on the door.

"You got something you want to say?"

"Yeah." I walked up close to him and I could tell he was pissed at me. I thought in that quick moment since I already said the words "I'm sorry" and "Thanks" that all I needed to do was kiss him.

He held me away. "You are something."

"I wanna kiss you," I told him. "I'm sorry. It's Valentine's."

"I don't care."

"I'm sorry. I'll be better, okay?"

"Better? Better at what?"

I looked at my feet and realized that line worked better with my mother. His grumpy blue eyes sneered at me, and I didn't want to lose him.

"At blow jobs?"

He smiled. "Darling." His grip softened and I kissed him hard as we had make-up sex on the couch.

## NEW YORK 2001

February

EDDIE'S GLASS, smudged with old lipstick and sticky with whiskey, sat beside the ashtray that was filled with his cigarette butts. They stood erect like he had just put them out. The kitchen was a growing mess of piling dishes. When I turned the lights on the roaches would scatter into the corner's cracks and underneath the microwave. After a while the roaches weren't scattering as fast anymore. They kind of just froze and waited for me to drop the dishes into the sink. So I decided to wash the dishes.

Each dish had a remembrance of a last meal. Some had Chinese chow mien noodles mixed with rubber bean sprouts or the dried beans of Puerto Rican food or Marla's smeared tomato sauce. I made my way down to Eddie's dishes, which had fried rice with dried out green peas and streaks of plum sauce on them.

I held his plate and I scrubbed away the plum sauce. It came off easier than I thought. Then I washed the counters down and wiped away the crusty crumbs from underneath the microwave.

I chucked out all of the old food from the fridge. Next door something smashed and a screaming fight with her boyfriend was starting. I looked outside and stared at the lonely grey tree, which was still trying to survive another bitter winter.

A big bang at the door sent shivers down my spine. I thought she had really kicked him out but then I realized it was my door. I carefully pulled back the peephole, and it was Paul.

"Vivian, open up!"

I opened the door and Paul was wearing his noisy puffy green jacket.

"Jesus, I thought you were dead."

"I'm alive," I told him, standing there not wanting to let him come in. "What do you want?"

"Let me in."

"Paul, look, I need to be alone for a while. I don't need you reminding me. Stop calling. Can't you just leave me alone?"

Paul looked down at his boots and then he peered over my head to get a look at the dark apartment.

"You're dripping all over. What are you doing?"

"I'm cleaning up the kitchen. Look, I'm fine," I told him. "I gotta get back."

"You're sure?"

"Yep."

"Okay, you know were to find me."

"Yep."

I shut the door on him before he could say goodbye.
Middle of February

MY DREAMS were filled with an alive Eddie. If I slept in the bedroom I would dream of us coming through the door and banging into the walls as we tumbled our way into a fun drunken sex mess. I would leisurely wake up and for a moment I believed I was still lying on him because my ear felt crushed and my neck had formed a straining pain. I'd pull myself up from Eddie's chest and I could feel his arms releasing me and then my eyes would flicker open and with one blink Eddie was gone. It was just me with pillows tucked underneath my arms and the sheet twisted tight between my legs.

During the day I found myself on the futon idolizing his glass until my eyes were seduced into sleep. My dreams on the futon felt so real. I got up because I could hear him in the kitchen, pouring himself a drink. I came in and he smiled at me and gave me a kiss.

"Did you want a drink?" he asked, already getting me a glass.

"Did you miss me?"

"You're the reason why I get up in the mornings."

He handed me my glass as he took the cigarette pack out of my shirt pocket and lit one.

"It's pay day today."

"We're going out?"

He smiled. "Sure thing, Kid." He pulled some weed from his pocket and gave me a mischievous smile. "It was a long week."

"Mm."

"You missed me?" he whispered as his hands rested on my backside.

"Yes."

We crushed into the wall with our sloppy kissing. From there, we had somehow advanced onto the futon where he was resting beside me with a blanket on top of us and I had fallen asleep with my ear full of his breathing. Then my eyes hazily opened and I grabbed his arm and pulled it tight around me like a blanket. He grunted and then I fell asleep again.

"Viv, come on." I felt his warm drunken breath on my ear. "Stay."

"Eddie." My eyes opened and then I saw the empty glass.

# ENDINGS
## NEW YORK 2001

End of February

PAUL NO longer called me, but Marlo started to call me followed by my mom. I called my mom back and told her everything was okay, but she didn't believe me. She kept asking me what had happened and then I finally told her about Eddie. She insisted that I come home or she was going to come to New York. My mother wouldn't take no for an answer, so I told her I would think about coming home. I knew once I said goodbye she would probably start looking for a cheap flight to come out.

Marlo's messages started with "I have money for you" and then she threatened me that she was coming down. Around two in the afternoon I reluctantly opened the door, knowing it wasn't delivery because I hadn't ordered anything yet. Marlo's brow crumpled and then her arms engulfed me.

"God, I'm so happy to see you."

She let herself in and had a good look around and then her eyes landed on me. My eyes were encrusted with sleep, my oily hair was tied up, I was wearing one of Eddie's shirts, and my big toe had poked through an old sock.

"What happened to you? You scared me. I thought you were dead."

"Eddie. He's dead. He died a while back."

"What?"

"He was driving." I picked up a T-shirt from the floor and tossed it onto the mountain of clothes. "Some drunk smashed into his car and he never woke up. His heart gave out and he was bleeding internally. He died. It happened a few weeks ago."

"Why didn't you call me? Vivian? Viv?" she tried catching my attention as I walked to the kitchen.

I wiped away a few dry tears. "Did you want water? I'm out of coffee."

She touched my shoulder. "Viv, I am so sorry."

"Yeah, it's okay. You don't have to worry anymore."

"Let's go out."

"I'm kind of tired."

"For a drink."

"I don't need a drink."

"Come on. You need to go out. Take a shower."

"Look, I need to be alone."

"You were alone. You need a distraction. Come on, we'll have a couple of beers."

"Why don't you leave me my money?"

"Go and get ready. We're going out."

I hated Marlo as I shoved my filthy body underneath the stinging hot shower. My matted hair untangled with a surplus of conditioner and the smell of soap was strong at first but then it became refreshing.

I came out in a towel and she looked at me and grinned. Then she bit her lips, restraining whatever she was thinking.

"I'll help you with your laundry."

"You didn't go into the bedroom?" I asked as my clean feet gathered all the crumbs from the floor.

"No, why? Is there more laundry?" she asked as she started to dismantle my laundry mountain into colour piles.

"No," I lied as I held Eddie's shirt. I didn't want to clean Eddie away. I needed him. I hung up Eddie's shirt and then I pushed it aside with Eddie's other clothes.

I pulled out a jean skirt and a black shirt that was still clean. I placed on thick black wool nylons and picked out a push-up bra because that was all that was clean.

I headed back to the washroom and took the time to pamper myself into something other than a mourning face. I painted something pretty and happy. My face was warm and pink and inviting. I applied a ton of mascara to my rubbed out eyelashes, which were stumps.

"Viv, do you have one of those laundry carts?"

"No," I told her as I put on lipstick.

"Well, we've got to get this to a Laundromat, and then we'll go for a drink. Is there a do-it store around?"

"Up the street, closer to ninth."

"I'll be right back."

She left and I stood in the living room actually smelling fresh. My teeth felt smooth and my brushed gums tasted bloody.

I looked at the coffee table and saw that she had taken away the ashtray and the idolized tumbler.

"You can thank me later," she told me as she pushed the cart inside. "What about the towels and sheets? Those ones on the bed? How long have you been sleeping on them for?"

She looked at my drawn face.

"Okay, Viv, did you want me to get them?"

"No, I'll do it."

I entered the bedroom for the first time with the lights on and I quickly took the sheets off without thinking about it.

I shoved the sheets into the bag. I grabbed the towels in the kitchen and the washroom and Eddie's dried out blue facecloth and crammed those deep into the bag.

"That's it?"

"Yep."

We walked to the pub and I wanted to tell her that it was where Eddie and I would hang out. Instead I followed her in and just hoped Carl wasn't there. She told me to pick out a seat as she got the drinks.

I saw her getting me a Guinness as she got something lighter. She flashed her eyes back at me and gave me a smile as she did a little boogie dance because her favourite Prince song was playing.

"I love this song. It just gets you in the mood," she said as she handed me my drink. I took the Guinness in my grasp and took my first sip. It felt reluctantly good.

"Let me tell ya." She reached for the ashtray on the other table. "The glitter, people love it. Those paintings are gold. Viv, I wish I bought one now."

"Yeah," I told her as I casually reached into my pocket for a cigarette.

"First, I'm really sorry to hear about Eddie." She touched my hand before exhaling the smoke from her mouth. "How have you been?"

"Not so good," I told her, delicately knocking off the tiny bit of ash that hung on to my cigarette. "Which you saw."

"Yeah."

"This is the first time I've been smoking or drinking. I just didn't have the heart to do it. I didn't even have cravings for it."

"Why didn't you tell me? Maybe we should have gone for coffee. I feel so bad."

"No, this is feeling good. Eddie's brother Paul, who owns the car service where Eddie used to work, kept checking up on me after Eddie died," I said as I paused for another gulp. "I just couldn't be around him. He didn't look like Eddie or anything but he was still Eddie's brother and that just really hurt me. Sometimes I thought," I looked at the Guinness's frothy head, "Why did it have to be Eddie? Why couldn't it be Paul? I know that's wrong. I mean, I would give anything for them to trade places. I know it's bad thinking like this. It's not right. I'm not right. You know, I just, just—"

"Viv." She took my hand. "It's okay. There's nothing wrong with the way you feel. Do not feel bad about it, okay?"

"Okay."

"You don't mind me being here?"

"No. At first I didn't want you here, but it's good." I winced. "Good to see you. I'm sure I was more of a shock for you."

"It was a shock to see you."

"Yeah, well, I'm better now." I gave her a steady grin as I took another big gulp.

"And you're still a good liar."

I took another gulp and I could feel my sad feelings being removed and then I noticed Marlo's beautiful smile.

"Another?"

"Yeah, and get me a shot."

"Hey." She checked her watch. "The laundry's done."

"I'll be right back," I told her.

When I got back, Marlo was already sitting down with new drinks.

"I've got news about Alex, or should I say DJ Twigger. He's on Ibiza's new CD mix."

"That's good," I told her, lighting a cigarette. I didn't really want to be thinking about a past boyfriend.

"I told him about you."

"What? He's in New York?" I tossed back the shot and the burn felt too good for words.

"No, over email. I told him about your paintings."

"We were so a long time ago, Marlo."

"He asked about you in the email."

"Oh. Where's Ibiza?"

"In Spain."

"Uh. I'll check out his CD."

"I got a copy for you. Alex sent me a bunch and then he didn't even sign them. He wants you to have one. He lives in Vancouver."

"Oh. I thought he was in Montreal."

"Yeah, he was, and then he moved to Vancouver. This is a bit off topic. I should tell you." She made an irk face. "Billy and I called it quits."

"Really?" I asked, enjoying the smoke tingling at the back of my throat. It felt so dirty—so good.

"Yep, I mean he's a nice guy but I don't want to move to L.A., and I don't want to be in a long-distance relationship. It's not worth the agony. It's not worth the extra work." She lit a cigarette. "I feel sorry for Billy. He felt really bad about it. I kind of feel it's a new year and it's the best time to start over. It's gonna get better." She smiled. "He'll probably meet some amazing health-conscience girl out there. Oh, well. Fuck it."

I sat there listening to Marlo talk about Billy, and I liked the fact that she left me alone. That she left Eddie alone. That she wanted me to just drink and enjoy my Guinness and shots.

Marlo looked at her watch. "The laundry's done."

Sadly, I finished off my last Guinness and I didn't want to go back to my apartment. I was scared of what was there.

"Viv, are you hungry?"

"Yeah," I told her as I clinked the laundry cart on each step.

"We'll finish the laundry and then we'll get something to eat."

"Okay."

"I hate folding clothes, but I'll do it for you."

I was happy that Marlo and I had a whole night out and then she slept over.

Once she left, I took Marlo's advice and started painting again. At first I doodled and then I thought of those awful glitter paintings. Each one had sold and Marlo was really excited about them—again. I looked in the studio's closet and I forgot that the other half of my closet was in there along with the paintings in the back. I pulled them out and grinned at my gruesome prom queens.

I went back to the kitchen and took out a Guinness and a smoke and eavesdropped on Desiree having another blowout.

## WOLSTON 1994

February 28

I SOLD one and then two and finally three landscape paintings. The rest of them were stacked against a wall in the garage as my ugly monsters took over.

I chewed on the paintbrush as I stared at the glossy pink monster against a grey-green background. Her glossy eyelids were skin-tight against her bally eyeballs and her jaw was square. Her lips were bitten-thin by her teeth. At first I thought the ringing phone was part of the music but then it just kept ringing and ringing its menacing tone.

"Hello?" I moaned into the phone.

"Is Vivian there?" a female voice asked doubtfully.

"Yeah, this is Vivian."

"Hey, Viv, how are you? You're okay?"

"Oh, Marlo. Hi. Yeah, I'm fine. I thought you were my mother. She likes to check up on me."

"Oh, that's so sweet."

"I don't know about that. When I have days off she likes to call me."

"She's gonna freak out when you go to New York."

"Yeah, but I'm used to it."

"Does she want you to go?"

"Yeah, she totally wants me to go. She's very excited."

"Good. Vivvy, I just talked to Maddy and I heard that you sold some paintings."

"Yeah, three."

"Congrats."

"Thanks."

"What have you been up to?"

"I've been working on the monsters. Did you get my pictures?"

"Yep. I'm so excited. They're gorgeous. I can't wait to see them in the flesh. Eek, that sounds creepy."

"A little bit, but thanks. How's everything with you?"

"That's a loaded question. Good, though. The bar is happening, but it won't be open until the summer. It's like I've had every sort of obstacle. But on the bright side, I've met a guy. He's so fucking amazing, Billy. Billy, oh Billy."

"What happened to the other one?"

"Oh, shit. Have you been talking to Maddy? We broke up," she sang into the phone. "I'm free and it feels good, and I'm too busy for any more emotional relationship crap. I just need to be myself and open this bar."

"What about Billy?"

"That's a wish. He's just a friend that I met through a friend. But he's so fucking distracting. You'll probably meet him. He's going to be one of the bartenders." She sighed on the phone. "When are you coming out? Maddy said that you were thinking in May?"

"Yeah, that's when Alex can come."

"Aw, that sucks. It's not really a good time for me."

"In August?"

"It will be hot, hot but the bar will be open by then. If it isn't, I'll make a splash in the obituaries for sure."

"Morbid and creepy."

"I've gotten freaky too." She laughed hard. "But August would be a lot of fun."

"I don't know if Alex will be coming."

"Why?"

"He might be working all summer as DJ Twigger."

"That's freaking awesome. I'm going to have to talk to him. I want a CD. Tell him that."

"Okay."

"The summer will be fun and you should come out longer than a week. My apartment has room since he just moved out. You know you should totally come here for a month because in September the galleries are open and we could go to some openings too. Come out in the middle of August."

"A month?"

"Yep, a month. Trust me, it will go by fast. Maybe Alex can come out in September?"

"Marlo, that just seems like such a long time. You're going to be sick of me."

"I've got a two bedroom apartment. There's room for you. You can even paint if you want to."

"You're serious?"

"Yep. And I've got oil paints that you can have. Actually, you can have all my paint supplies. And the other one left a whole bunch of art books you can have that too."

"All right."

"Make sure you bring some of your paintings. Did you get the letter?"

"No, not yet."

"It has the paintings that I want. And you should check out Otto Dix's paintings. He's a German artist from the war times. They're pretty cool and freaky and they remind me a little bit of your paintings. Oh, and I almost forgot. How old are you?"

"Eighteen."

"Yeah, you've got to be twenty-one to drink out here. It's a total drag. You've got to get a good fake id. Talk to Mike, he should know somebody."

"Okay. What was the other one's name?"

She laughed into the phone. "Oh, the other one, Jason. The jackass. I'm so happy he's gone. Get this, he wants me to mail him his art books. I don't think so. I should've known when he said his favourite art was Dutch landscape that he'd be a total prick."

"What was he studying?"

"His dream is to be an art historian. Vivvy, I'm making the hurling jester as we speak. Listen, we break up and he leaves when I'm not around and then he leaves a message on the fridge about his art books. He wants me to box them up and mail them. Why couldn't he fucking do that? Fucking little brat. So I call him until he answers and I tell him to come and get his fucking books. And of course he tells me what a fucking bitch I am and all that." She paused and I heard wine gurgle into a glass. "It's like chill, I've heard it all before. I hung up and he hasn't called me back since. So I think those books are mine. I don't really care. And he's not so innocent; he took all my Tori Amos CDs, which he refuses to give me back. Damn him." She sighed. "Oh, Viv, I'm so happy he's out of my life. He just seemed to suck the life out of me. And as soon as he left, all my bar problems just stopped and things started to move again. That is some serious weird shit."

"You think he's a warlock?"

Marlo laughed into the phone. "A warlock? No, just like a bad omen or bad luck. Just talking about him gives me the chills. Since he's been gone I have been on the positive vibe. Aw, shit. Someone's calling me. I gotta go. See you, Vivvy, dear."

I picked up the paintbrush again, and I bit off the end and spat it out. The phone rang again and this time it was my mom, who had to know what I was doing and why the phone was busy and reminded me to call for pizza.
April 3

SPRING IN Wolston was brown and ugly and wet. The air was grimy, the green grass was a slippery sandy muck, and the spring flowers hovered underneath the soil and waited for a break of warm weather. The roads were potted with new potholes and the cars were shiny with wet filth that turned into rust or rubbed off onto your pant leg.

The heavy rain bashed down onto me as I waited for Alex to buzz me in. The lightening twitched and the thunder thumped and the door buzzed open for me.

Mike was sitting on the couch with a joint, and Alex winked at me.

"You forgot your umbrella?"

"It's gross out there."

"Hey, Viv. I set Jeff up with Champagne," Mike told me with his stoner sneer.

"Lucky Jeff." I grabbed a beer out of the fridge. "When does he get out? It's like next week, isn't it?"

The sticky washroom door opened and there was Jeff with a mouthful of pink gum. His yellow stringy hair was shaved off, which left him with a fuzzy dark halo, and his face was a mix of stubble and pimples.

"Missed me, Viv?" He smiled, showing his gummy teeth.

"Holy Fuck. He's out. You're out?" I hugged his bony body.

Jeff gave me a sloppy kiss. "Better than ever. You smell nice. Like a cookie."

"Oh, my God. He's deprived. When did you get out?"

"Today." Jeff took the joint from Mike. "That's all behind me."

"Yeah, sure it is," Mike snickered.

"What's happening?" I asked.

"He's moving in with me. I'll keep him busy."

"You two lovebirds can move in together," commented Jeff as he plunked himself into a chair.

"No, she likes living with her parents," Alex rolled his eyes.

"Really?"

"That's not true. I'm moving in after New York."

"I thought I was messed up. My mom wanted me to move back but there's no fucking way. I'm out of that house. It's a fucking nightmare. Jeff the butler no more."

"Hey, I'm moving in with him. Jeff, your room will be my studio."

"Sweetie, we believe you." Alex slapped my thigh.

I punched him.

"You know, Viv, Alex might not want you to move in by then. You know how it goes. If you live by yourself long enough, sharing a place can be torture." Mike reflected with a gulp of beer.

"Mike, I told you. It's temporarily," Jeff said.

"I know that. That's why I'm giving you a job."

"What's he doing?" I asked.

"I'm going to be an Xtreme Party Entertainment DJ. Your request is my pleasure."

"He'll do just fine."

"Yeah." He chewed on his thumb. "You know what still bugs me."

"What?" asked Mike.

"Earl, that fucking prick, probably robbed his own place to make it look like me. I would love to get that fart-fucker back. You know, totally fucking hurt him."

"He's not fucking worth it," Alex said as he stubbed out his smoke.

"Alex is right. Jeff, just let it go. Forget about him," Mike said.

"Yeah, you're right. I'll leave it alone. But Mike, you said he was dating a hottie. What's her name?"

"Lisa Hwang. She may be Alex's Auntie someday." Mike smirked.

"You'd loved that."

"Alex, you've got such a stick up your ass."

"Listen to this. I've been thinking. We could kidnap her and hold her for ransom. And send him little parts of her to make him pay up."

"Oh, fuck. Jeff, shut it. Look at this way: you got out, you won. He tried to fucking frame you and it didn't stick. You understand?" Mike told him.

"Yeah, it must be the fucking withdrawal. Sorry. Alex, don't fucking worry, okay? I'm fine, you guys." He sucked hard on his smoke and fidgeted in his chair.

"How's the withdrawal?" Alex asked him.

"Not fucking nice. It's total torture but I promised myself."

"Yeah, you've been promising yourself because Champagne is your reward."

Alex laughed. "That would do it."

"My ingenious idea. And Jeff, she is very, very excited to meet you, but you've got to be clean. She's been clean for a few years."

"Yep. I know."

"She's interested in him?" I asked.

"Yeah, I've sold her the golden Jeff package."

"Golden package." Jeff laughed for a second and then returned to chewing on his nails. "Yeah." He lit another smoke and scratched his head. "Fuck, it's like I've got fleas."

"Watch the smoke. You'll burn yourself," Alex warned him.

"You have fleas?" Mike asked.

"No, it's like I do. I'm fucking itchy all the time. I'm sorry. I just fucking hate this. I hate being pushed into things. Put into jail for nothing. Anyway, before that I was planning on quitting, you know? I'm just tired of being pushed around by that fucker. It's like I'm his fucking doormat."

"Jeff, it's the withdrawal. It makes everything seem worse than it is."

"Thank you, Doctor Twigger."

"We should get going because your mom is bringing chicken," Mike said as he got up. "I love her chicken."

"I've got to take a shower."

"Good idea. It's possible that she might do an anal check."

"Fuck off," Jeff said as he picked up two boxes by the door. "I fucking don't feel good." He chewed hard on his gum.

"Go outside. I'll meet you." Mike watched Jeff go down the stairs. "He'll be all right."

"He should be in rehab."

"Alex, he's fine. He's got a little bit of the shakes."

"Mike, he needs a doctor."

"Oh, fuck. Alex, he has a doctor. Don't fucking worry. Alex, his mom isn't coming down, Champagne is. It's a surprise." He winked at us.

Alex lips loosened into a smile. "You're fucking crazy."

"Genius is what I was going for. And it's good that he sweats it out."

"That's just fucking cruel."

"So if he's perky tomorrow, you know he got a little taste of the bubbly."

"Yeah, yeah," Alex said.

"Viv, you should check out his room. Check the lighting. Make sure he didn't leave anything behind," Mike told me.

"I'm gone. You can talk." I left the two of them to whisper in a low mumble that faded into the sounds of the cars below and filled Jeff's old room.

The room was carpeted with an old brown shag rug that was mated down and bare in some parts. I could still hear myself telling Alex yes to moving in with him after New York. The words ricocheted off the holey walls and collected themselves into the moldy corners of the windows. The cars zoomed by and black blobs of umbrellas disappeared around the corner.

Already the furry rug left my feet itchy and the mold made my eyes water and the view made me dizzy.
June

A BEAUTIFUL June day and everybody was out enjoying the dusk hour before the mosquitoes took over, which would be in a couple of weeks at best. Alex dragged me out for gelato ice cream and we stood in the long line outside the tiny ice cream parlour.

"Aw, shit." His brow crumpled.

"What?" Then I saw his uncle and his little Taiwan princess, who was wiping Earl's chin.

"Aw, fuck. It's all over the place," Uncle Earl exclaimed as his face went red.

"Oh, Earlie. You're like a big baby."

Then Earl noticed Alex. "Alex!" he shouted.

"Uncle Earl."

"Beautiful day, eh?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks, Lisa." He grabbed her hand.

"Ah, is this your son, Alex?"

"Nephew. My nephew."

"Yes, yes, nephew. I'm so sorry."

"Alex and Victoria." Earl pointed us out to her.

"Her name is Vivian, Uncle Earl."

"You two have got to stop by more. This is Lisa."

"Hi. Oh, they are so cute. You two are coming for ice cream?"

"They'll fucking rob you."

"Your uncle is a little bit upset. It's too much, he says."

"Yeah."

"Your mother tells me you've got gigs lined up this summer?"

"That's right."

"And you might be going to New York?"

"I was but I've got jobs lined up."

"Vivian, that's such a pretty name. You're very pretty." Her red lips twinkled at me. "The ice cream is good. Don't listen to your uncle. He's cheap."

"I thought your English wasn't that good," Uncle Earl commented.

She smiled at him.

"Jeff, he's out?" Earl asked.

"Yep."

"That's a shame. Jail would have been good for him. You know, straighten him out. Maybe get a degree." He tossed the cone into the street and the pigeons tried to get at it before the cars squished them. "I wanted to tell you. It's not too late."

"Yeah." Alex rolled his eyes. "Yep, I know."

Lisa looked at her watch. "We're going to be late. Look." Lisa stuck her watch out to Earl. "Your uncle is taking me to the movies. He's just so sweet. Look what he got me. A Rolax."

"Rolex, darling."

"Whoops." She covered her giggling mouth.

"Lisa, we've got an hour to kill. Anyway, you guys, you should visit more often. Drinks are on me."

"Sure, Uncle Earl."

"Bye, bye." Lisa gave a little wave as Uncle Earl hurried her along.

"Fuck, you want a cone still?" Alex asked as he took out a smoke.

"We should take your uncle up on that offer, free drinks."

"Yeah, he'd love that."

"Is Lisa going to be your auntie?"

"No, that's a fake Rolex, sweetie."
August 21

ALEX'S SNORING woke me up and I was about to hit him hard so he'd stop and I could go back to sleep, but the blue digits of five o'clock beamed in the dark room. They beamed at me like a countdown. Today was my last day in Wolston and my last morning. The morning light was prowling past the blue curtains, and I was awake. I wanted to wake up for the last time in my twin-sized bed. I licked my fingers and cleaned up my mascara eyes and twisted my love-tangled hair into a bun.

A deep rumble followed by a fart broke out of Alex as he turned over. Warily, I approached him. I was going to kiss him but I decided not to disturb his sleep. He seemed so harmless.

Suddenly, Alex grabbed my arm, and I almost screamed.

"I knew you'd skip out on a goodbye."

"I wasn't go—"

"Sh." He kissed me. "Okay."

"I wish you could come out. I'm gonna miss you." I pouted at him.

"I'll miss you too."

"I can't wait to move in." I kissed him.

"Good. And you promised me."

"I know, and I'm ready to move in with you."

"Are you?"

"Yeah." I gave him another kiss and I breathed heavy because I wanted to be back in his arms with my head on his chest listening to his body grumble back to sleep.

Wolston in the early morning was gorgeous. I wanted to remember the sun coming through the teddy bear-like clouds and the little sparrows zooming by and the robin's ear-splitting chirp.

At home the house was dark and extra cold because the air conditioning was left on all night.

I could hear my parents waking up. One of them flushed the toilet and the pipes broke into a hammering fit. Then my alarm clock blared an obnoxious dance tune. I crushed the pillow over my head and my eyes were open. I was awake, wide awake.

The plane jerked into the air and I looked past my fellow passenger's newspaper to my last view of Wolston. I fought back a tear as I reminded myself that I was coming back, but it felt like I was really going away forever. I saw my parents driving home with an empty backseat and my mom still crying as they passed Wolston's filthy downtown. I wanted to be back in the car with them.

The flat city of Wolston disappeared behind a crinkly newspaper that left the air inky. A flight attendant did her performance of seat buckles and emergency exits, and I had a horrible need to pee.

## NEW YORK 2001

March 11

THE SUN was out and it made the chilly breeze tolerable. Prospect Park glimmered in the distance. I thought about sitting on one of the park benches but the park's sidewalk was already too crowded with baby carriages and people walking their dogs, and I didn't feel like sitting around with strangers. So I turned around and walked farther down the street, following the view of the Twin Towers cutting into the Manhattan skyline. Now I was on Damien's block, and I thought it wouldn't hurt to just see, just by chance if he was still there.

I didn't have to look too far down his street. He appeared outside in a black T-shirt and he was hugging a girl that seemed more enthusiastic than him. She walked away from him. Then he turned around and looked in my direction. He shaded his eyes from the sun as he contemplated that I was Vivian.

"Vivian?"

He stood there in the cold as I walked up to him with a chapped grin.

"Damien, how are you?" I watched his girlfriend turn around the corner.

"All right. How are you?" His hard eyes bounced into mine.

"To be honest, could always be better."

"You've got anything to drink?" he asked as he peeked inside my bag.

"Nope."

"Why are you here?"

I kept thinking just by accident but my mouth said, "To have a smoke." And my brain started to think more. "Thinking about you." I looked at my feet. "Was that Julie?"

"I don't know. You tell me."

"It looks like someone else. Julie was blond."

"Yeah, Vivian."

My mouth kept going. "I guess she didn't like it rough, eh?"

He smiled. "How's that old fucker Eddie doing? Is he still keeping it up?"

"Fu—"

His cold hand covered my mouth. "Vivian, that's why you're here. Because your old man isn't fuckin' giving it to you." He pinched my nipple. "But I think you've missed me." His lips playfully frowned.

"You've got me, I miss you."

We shared a laugh and a gush of wind billowed down his street and knocked over a trash can. A couple of cans clinked onto the road.

"Aw, fuck. I'm fuckin' freezing."

"I'll see you later, Damien." I licked my lips as I walked away.

"Vivian?!" he yelled.

A silver chip bag rolled and stopped underneath my old boot.

# About the Author

VERONICA SCHREIBER was born and raised in Winnipeg, Manitoba. She received a B.F.A. in creative writing from Brooklyn College. She is the author of a previous novel, _Flash Baby_.
