Two days later I got a call in my
dorm room. “Hey Jazz, it’s AJ,” came
the voice. My hand gripped the phone
hard in response, and my heart leapt into my throat. Giddiness swept over me and confusion set in. “H- hi!
Hey! So, um… what’s been up, man?” “-I don’t suppose you’re next line
was ‘how’s your daughter?” he joked, making reference to the Eminem song I was
almost quoting. I smiled goofily, glad
he wasn’t there to see the pink blush that caught in my cheeks. “You shouldn’t even be asking that… unless
you’ve got something you wanna tell me?” I said, laughing. I heard a chuckle. “No, trust me. All the
children I’ve had out of wedlock have been kept hush… so how’d you find
out?” he asked, and I could tell he was smiling. I turned to my side and sat down on my bed. “I have my sources. I do have a 10 year old cousin who’s
totally obsessed with you, by the way…”
We talked for maybe ten more minutes
until AJ ‘remembered’ why he’d called me.
“I um… can I get you to do something for me, please?” he asked. “Makin’ requests already, AJ? Doesn’t that come after I’m
completely under your evil spell, or are you jumping the gun?” A sarcastic ‘ha’ was heard, and then he
spoke again. “Since I know
you’re already under my spell, I figured I’d ask you to take something to my
mother for me.” I knotted my eyebrows
together. “Can’t you just mail it?” I
asked, and realized that sounded bitchy.
“Well I could, but I don’t want to take the chance of it getting
stolen or lost.” “What is it?” “It’s my, uh… it’s my record. Here, that is. The doctor here, she writes down all the progresses and stuff
from my therapy. I just want my mother
to see how well I’m doing,” he added, his voice drifting off. I could hear his shame, embarrassment, pain…
everything in that last sentence, and I accepted his proposal. “Sure, I’ll take it. I guess I should thank you for… trusting me
with something like that when you could get someone else to do it.” AJ ‘humph’-ed into the phone. “No way would I want one of my insensitive
male friends to give my mother something like that. Women have more tact. I
can trust you not to say ‘Oh here’s our crazy boy’s funny papers!’ or some
stupid shit that’d make my mom cry.
That happened last time I had one of my friends David take these to
her. She cried and then called me
before she read them to see if I was all right. I just want her to be calm, you know?” I nodded though he couldn’t see me. “Yeah. Well, I’ll come by
in say half an hour? Be out front
waiting, though, could you? I don’t
feel very comfortable in hospitals of any kind,” I asked, and he agreed. We said our goodbyes, and then hung up.
Five minutes of frenzied make-up
reapplying and teeth-brushing later, I ran like hell out of my dorm and
jumped into my car. I still made it to
the clinic in time. Going thirty over
the whole way. When I pulled in to the
lot, AJ was sitting on the benches outside, havin’ another smoke. “Well not to sound like a bitch, but if the
alcohol doesn’t kill you the lung cancer will,” I said, walking up behind
him. He turned around and smiled. “If I had a dime for every time someone told
me that,” he smirked. “You’d be a whole
ten cents richer, right?” I finished, and he laughed. “I know it. It’s a dirty
habit. I remember telling everyone that
I’d quit before our summer tour rolled around, but hey… what the Hell’s this,
then?” he asked, and flicked the ashes off his cigarette. I walked around to the other side of the
bench and sat next to him. “So you have
the paperwork?” I asked, and he nodded, taking a drag. “Yeah, right here,” he said, exhaling smoke
while he talked. Wow, what a
multitask-er. And yet for some reason I
found the act very sexy. Call me an
asshole, but hey, what can I say? I
took the manila envelope he handed me, and smiled in remembrance of his whole
this-is-me-impersonating-a-dragon routine.
He raised an eyebrow above his smoky sunglasses, and I waved my
hand. “It’s really not important,” I
said, hoping he wouldn’t ask me why I’d smiled for no apparent reason. He didn’t, and I relaxed.
Ten minutes later we had to part
ways. “A delicious ‘home-made’ meal
awaits me,” he joked. I smiled but also
caught the intonation of sadness in his voice.
I stood with him and held up the envelope. “Address is in the folder, um… be nice, and don’t joke
around. Anything else?” I asked, and he
shrugged. Suddenly an idea came to
me. “How about some cookies, skinny
man?” I asked, and he looked up. “Like
Keebler cookies or real, honest to God oven baked, Tollhouse chocolate
chip cookies?” he asked, and I laughed.
“Your order’s been taken. It’ll
be ready in about two days,” I told him.
“Restaurant?” he asked, referring to my job. “Pharmacy. I’m not nice
enough to work at a restaurant,” I smiled, and he scoffed. He scoffed at me. “Psh… you not nice enough? Do they have friggin’ angels workin’ the
drive-thru now?” I laughed loudly… very loudly. “No, but then again you have been in here for what? Two
weeks? They might’ve upped their
standards a little since then.” And
then I had to go before his mother left her house for the night. “I promise I’ll bring those cookies by here
on Sunday, ok?” I said, and AJ nodded in enthusiastic agreement. “Definitely. Oh, and tell my mom I love her.
Tell her how I’m doin’ if she asks, and uh… well you know the
rest.” I nodded. “I’ll see you Sunday then?” He smiled.
“You better.”