Page 3 of One More Weekend

The blaringof my alarm in my ears was barely enough to wake me from my slumber. With Jenna at Clay’s, the apartment was quiet – except for the usual bleed of the streets of Chinatown coming in through our old, poorly insulated windows.

But I need to get dinner started if I had any hope of getting to work on time.

Forcing myself up from the bed, I threw on a ratty sports bra and some sweatpants before heading out of my room and into the living room where our cheap, blue IKEA couch took up most of the floor space.

I laughed as I looked at it, that thing had followed Jenna and I for years. It was in our first place just off campus during college and somehow survived into our real adult place.

As I moved to the kitchen, pulling out my prepped ingredients from the fridge, my mind filled with memories of the two of us assembling the couch in the middle of the night after a treacherous trip in an unmarked taxi to get it home after IKEA closed.

Grabbing my stainless steel skillet from the cabinet, I turned on the stove and let the metal heat up. Once it was crackling, Igrabbed the prepped chicken thighs and threw them into the oil – skin down.

As the meat seared, I peeked up at the clock on the oven. I had a few hours before my shift and dinner would be done just in time. I built in extra time to pack up tupperware for Jenna to have tomorrow for office lunch.

I turned on some music as I cooked, dancing as I threw thyme and onions into the skillet. After a moment, I added in the garlic, chile, salt, pepper, coconut milk, and a bit of water. I wafted the mixture into my nose, letting steam and spice fill my airways.

But I was jarred out of my haze as I left the pot to simmer when I heard the familiar jingle of keys from the door.

It’s only 7, what is she doing home?

My forehead wrinkled as I wondered what would have brought Jenna home so early. Unless I was mistaken, she was supposed to be at dickhead-Clay’s place all night.

But as soon as the door swung open, I knew she wasn’t okay.

Through sniffles, Jenna managed, “That smells so good.” Jenna’s face scrunched up as the flavors washed over her, tears streaming down her face.

“Oh no, what happened, baby?” I crossed the apartment in two strides, grabbing her bag from her shoulder and setting it down on the floor. “Do we need to go egg Clay’s windows?”

The joke got a small giggle from her as I reached around and closed the apartment door behind her, making sure not to let our cat out. Clearly, Jenna was too out of her mind to consider it.

Putting my arm around her waist, I guided her to one of the wicker chairs pushed into the small dining table. The apartment was huge – especially considering the price. It was why we’d signed the lease and dealt with the nearly non-existent management and drafting windows.

“She’s so not worth the vandalism charge.” Jenna’s head fell into her palms as she rested her elbows on the wood table.

“That bitch.” I shook my head. Of course I knew it wouldn’t last, but Jenna had been having fun and I wasn’t going to get in her way. Clay had been noncommittal from day one but Jenna clearly needed to learn to stop falling for that type the hard way.

Sighing through the tears, Jenna looked up at me with swollen, crystal-clear blue eyes. “It’s not even just her.”

“What do you meanjust?” I leaned forward, grabbing a tissue from the box at the center of the table and passing it to her.

“SDO let me go. Well, my internship was ending anyway… but they didn’t keep me on.”

If I knew anything about Jenna, it was that losing the agency gig was a far bigger deal than some asshole who couldn’t even remember to install her air conditioning.

“Fuck, seriously? You gave that place everything you had.”

Jenna nodded, leaning back into the chair. “Tommy promised to call me if anything came up but like… I literally did everything I could.”

Trying to intercept her gaze, I bowed my head and put a hand on her shoulder. “I know. You deserve better. Do you want to talk about the next steps?”

“I have literally three months of savings and that’s it. Then what am I gonna do?” Jenna shrugged, folding her arms over her stomach. “What are you making? It smells amazing. Like I’m trying to process the absolute piece-of-garbage day I had but I cannot stop thinking about how good that smells.”

The corners of my mouth lifted into a smile. “Caribbean smothered chicken. I was going to pack you some for lunch tomorrow.”

“Really? God, you’re the best.” She threw her arms over me, the smell of her sweet perfume washing over me. A lump grew in my throat.

I forced myself to pull away. I couldn’t indulge it, not even for a moment.

“What if I can’t find anything by the end of the summer?”

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