Page 29 of Without You, Scotch and Sammy 2

– Scotch –

She’s Back

Footsteps thunder up my apartment stairs, but I continue to pace my kitchen. I’m fucking exhausted. My hair stands in a billion directions because I’ve been pulling at it for hours. My feet hurt from my laps on the cold tile floor. I’m so tired I could sleep standing up, but every time I try to close my eyes, I see Sammy fucking Ricardo.

A hand slams down on my door, but I don’t go to unlock it. I already know those footsteps. I know that knock. And I know it’s not Sammy.

Why now? Why did she have to come back now? Is this a cruel joke the universe is playing on me? Have I not suffered enough?

Angelo uses his own keys and lets himself in, then he stops at the entryway and stares at me with a pale face. “What the fuck?”

I stop pacing and we stand eight feet from each other. Both with a wide stance, broad shoulders, twitching hands. Like a couple gunslingers in the west, but we’re not here to shoot each other. “What?” Don’t say her name. Don’t say her name. Don’t say her name.

“I think I just saw a ghost.”

“Say it. Say her name.” I’m my own worst enemy. I push the knives in myself; no need for anyone else’s help.

“I saw Soda.”

“Fuck!” My hands come up to my face, warming the skin with friction as I scrub in frustration. I pull at my hair in an attempt to feel something else. “Fuck, Ang.” Don’t cry, you fucking pussy. You don’t care about her anymore. She’s nothing to you. Get angry, not sad. “I was hoping that was a post-chocolate cake and mind-blowing sex dream.”

“You often eat cake and have sex and dream of Sammy?”

“No.” Pretty much. Minus the sex.

“She told me she saw you last night.”

My hands snap down and away from my face. “You spoke to her?”

“Yeah, we had breakfast together.”

“What the fuck!” I’m gutted, because I want to talk to her. I want to eat with her. I want time with her. “She your best friend now, Angelo? Why the fuck are you going out on breakfast dates with her? Did you know she was coming back?”

“No, I didn’t know. I ran into her this morning at the bakery. And no, she’s not my best friend. You are. But she was, once upon a time. She was struggling with the stroller in the door, I helped, we both realized we knew each other. We sat and talked.”

“What does she want from me, Ang?” My voice is a weak whisper. “Why’s she back?”

“I dunno, but she needs something. She said she had to talk to you.”

“She came by last night. While Nancy was here.”

“Yeah, I know. She told me that too. She doesn’t like Nancy’s tits.”

My eyes snap up to his. “She told you that?”

“She said Nancy has fake tits and an ugly scowl. I’d say she’s pretty much on the money. Those titties are fake, right?”

“Yeah, all plastic.” I pull out a chair at the table and slump in. I’m exhausted, and the sun is only just breaking over the horizon now. Today’s going to suck. But she’s back in town…

“Did you see that sweet baby she has with her?”

I bite my lip before I ask ridiculous questions. “I saw the carseat, but I didn’t see the baby.”

“She’s a beauty. Teeny tiny little thing.”

“I’m gonna be honest here, Ang. I kinda hate that you had breakfast with her. I hate that you were able to have a conversation with her and find out this information. I hate that I threw her and her sweet baby out into bad weather last night.”

“Heard about that too. I’m not sure I expected, well, anything. I didn’t think we’d ever see her again. But I definitely didn’t expect you’d kick her out if we did.”

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