Precocious fought the urge to slam the phone against the wall a few times. “You
know, I’d call you a total fucking asshole dickhead if your logic wasn’t so sound.”
She glanced behind her as the knocking on the door turned into a pounding.
“I’ll be hexing you this evening.”
“I look forward to my second head.”
Precocious hung up the phone, walked to the front door, waited for just the
right moment, and flung the door wide open. Her timing was perfect, as Julia
staggered from being knocked off-balance, and almost landed flat on her face.
“You know, some people work at this time of day.”
“You obviously don’t.” Julia straightened the jacket of her suit and tried to
step inside.
“I usually do.” Precocious blocked her entrance by shutting the door halfway
and bodily filling the space that was left. “And my neighbors would have
released the hounds if the knocking went on for much longer.” She gave Julia an
icy look. “Maybe I shouldn’t have answered the door.”
“I want to talk to you.” Julia’s voice was controlled and cool, like she was
having minor negotiations over the price of an outrageously expensive scarf
with a salesgirl who was beneath her notice. “I have things to say to you.”
“You have nothing to say to me. You have things to say *at* me. There’s a
drastic difference. Saying things *to* me implies I would listen. Saying things
*at* me is what you will be doing because I *won’t* be listening.” If she’d
wanted to, Precocious could have pulled out her cool professional voice that
was usually employed when she was on the phone and put Julia’s cool, impersonal
voice to shame. She had decided to go with pissed off voice because it made her
feel better. “Now, what I want *you* to do is peel your rye-soaked ass off of
my stoop and teeter back to your overpriced hotel where you can drown your
sorrows in the mini bar and pick up some poor bastard on his first sales trip
in the hotel lounge.” Precocious moved to shut the door. She raised her
eyebrows when Julia wedged her foot in the jamb, and gave her a once-over. “If
you break it, I’m not buying it. Move your foot.”
“I want to talk to you, and you’re going to listen.” Julia tried to shove the
rest of the way into the apartment.
“I don’t want to listen, and no amount of behaving like a dumbass is going to
make me *want* to listen. Now, move your goddamned foot or lose it when I make
it into a trophy of my superior strength.” Precocious squeezed the door against
Julia’s foot. It caused Julia, as Precocious had known it would, to yank her
foot away and let Precocious shut the door. She locked it for good measure, and
threw the deadbolt for spite.
“Now, get the hell off of my stoop!” She peeked out of the front window, careful
to keep out of sight, and watched Julia *finally* turn and start walking down
the steps. ~Nice to know she gets a hint when someone threatens her with-what
the fuck is she doing?~ Precocious watched, not quite sure she was seeing
clearly, as Julia pulled a set of keys from her bag and placed the tip of the
key along the side of Precocious’s truck. ~She’s not-~ Julia ran the key down
the side of the truck, a long silver stripe left in her wake. ~Now, she dies.~
Precocious stormed out of her apartment, eyes blazing, face flushing in anger,
as she stalked across the lawn and grabbed Julia by the shoulder. “What the
*hell* do you think you’re doing to my *truck*?!”
“I’d thought it was obvious.” Julia looked completely undisturbed by the change
in events. She tossed her keys back into her purse and zipped it up. “Do you
have time to talk, now?”
“You vandalized my car to *talk* to me?”
Julia ignored the question. “Why are you dating
“We’re not dating.” Precocious squatted next to her truck to survey the damage
to her paint job. “You’re paying for this.”
Julia shrugged. “I can afford it. Now, why are you lying to me about dating
“Why do you care who he dates? From the information he’s given up to me, you
fucked around on him, handed him divorce papers, and walked. I can’t understand
why you care what’s happening to him at all.”
“I’m curious. Sue me.”
Precocious traced the line that Julia’s key had made for as far as her arm
could reach. “Don’t tempt me further with something I’m already considering.”
She stood up again and gave Julia a hard look. “You’re not the curious type.”
“Excuse me?” Julia looked as if someone had just told her the caviar was from a
grocery store that sold to mere mortals.
“You’re not the curious type,” Precocious repeated in the slow way that some
people informed deaf people that they were wonderful beings who didn’t think
they had a handicap. “You don’t question things. You expect what you want to
fall at your feet and lavish you with attention and shiny objects to call your
own. You don’t ask questions because everything’s always been handed to you,
and what hasn’t been handed to you has come willingly.”
“Could you get to the point before I turn old and die?”
~With all the Botox in your forehead, I think we’ve got awhile.~ “
Julia look disgusted. “Tell me something; how many shrinks have you been to for
you to form that ridiculously stupid opinion about who I am and how I react to
situations?”
“No shrinks. I had a very comfortable, nomadic childhood. Although, since you
brought it up, how many shrinks have *you* been to?” Precocious wasn’t
surprised when Julia glared daggers and other pointy things at her. “Or you
could just ignore the question and go straight to the part where you try and
convince me that you’re not fucking Tyler again to rebuild some pathetic sense
of self.”
“I’m *not*.” Julia crossed her arms over her chest, clearly on the defensive,
and stared hard at Precocious. “I just came to find out what you could possibly
see in him. He’s twice your age.”
“So? In
“Age is not fallible.”
Precocious raised her eyebrows at the sureness in Julia’s tone. “You don’t
think so?”
“No, I don’t.”
“O-kay.” Precocious placed her hands behind herself on the rim of the truck and
hoisted herself up to sit. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, and thought
for a minute. “You see a woman walking down the street. She’s on a cell phone.
She’s giggling. She’s saying something about how she can’t believe she was so
wasted at the party the night before. Two steps behind her is a woman on her
own cell phone. She’s checking her day planner while attempting to make an
appointment to see the dentist because of a bad cavity in one of her back
teeth. She’s very serious and focused in on what she’s trying to do. Which
woman is older?”
Julia thought for a moment. “Because I’m pretty sure this is a trick question,
I’m going to say the first woman is older.”
“Wrong. They’re the same age. They’re both twenty-three. One woman just knows
her goals better than the other, so she’s gained a little maturity to match
those goals.”
“How very charming.”
Precocious gave up on her own maturity and blew a raspberry in Julia’s
direction. “I’m not trying to *be* charming. I’m trying to make a *point*. Age
doesn’t do anything but throw a number into a system where it’s not needed. So,
I’m twenty-four, so what? I know other people who are twenty-four who are still
in college or live with their parents or have higher stress and larger paycheck
jobs than I do. All twenty-four tells people is how long I’ve been wandering
around the planet trying to figure things out.”
“Oh, my God, you’re one of those new age hippie weirdos aren’t you?”
“Nope. I’m a kid who came from a hippie. We’re a completely different breed.”
Julia rolled her eyes. “Lovely.” She uncrossed her arms and tried to pose like
she wasn’t about to crawl out of her skin because she was standing next to a
woman who had gone from reaming her to explaining her views on age and
maturity. “Now, since we’ve bonded,” she ignored the snort of disagreement from
Precocious, “tell me why you’re dating Tyler.”
“Again, for the third time, I am *not* dating Tyler. We went to the gallery
opening .We ran into you. It was hideously awkward. You drunk dialed him. I
seriously considered beaning my ex in the head with a fondue pot, and that was
that. And, truth be told, I have no plans to go out on the town with Tyler
again in the near future.” Precocious couldn’t help but notice how Julia perked
up at that bit of news. “It’s not from lack of sexual interest, trust me. I
think he’s very attractive, and he also shows signs of being an excellent
conversationalist. I just don’t date men who aren’t fully over their exes.”
Julia was having a hard time picking a part of Precocious’s tirade to attack.
She finally settled for the easiest target. “Fondue pot?”
“Linda hit her ex with a cast iron skillet, and I try not to steal her ideas.”
Against her better judgment and wishes, Julia had a sudden bit of admiration
for Precocious and Linda. “That’s…impressive.”
“She has a good arm.” Precocious slid off of the truck and looked Julia over.
“Look, I’m going to level with you. I think you’re a shrew of a banshee who has
some massive issues that stem more from the fact that your life up to this
point has either been perfect or perfect shit, and I really resent the fact
that you have to fuck your ex-husband to make yourself feel good. I also resent
the fact that in order to get attention, you’ll go as far as keying someone’s
vehicle. Basically, I left you whiny types back in high school with an eye roll
and the occasional bitch slap, but I’m not above resurrecting some old
standards just so I can make sure you get my point.”
Any vaguely warm and fuzzy feelings that Julia had had for Precocious vanished
in a second. She glared at Precocious again and considered throttling her for
the sport. “I didn’t come here to be judged.”
“Then, why the hell are you here? You’ve pissed me off, attempted to break into
my home, keyed my truck, and left me with the feeling that I should keep an eye
out in case you jump out of the shadows and stab me with a nail file because I
dared go to an art exhibition with your ex-husband, whom *you* divorced of your
own free will.” Precocious ran a hand over her hair and shook her head. “Why
you’re here I have no idea, but I know I’d rather you not be, so if you could
be so kind as to see yourself out of my driveway and away from my vehicle with
anything that could scratch it again, I’d appreciate it.” Precocious turned on
her heel, walked up her steps, opened her door, and shut it forcefully behind
her.
Julia gaped for a few seconds, not quite sure what to do. After staring at
nothing in particular for nearly a minute, she shook herself back to the
present, huffed once, kicked her heel at some gravel, and stormed to her car.
From behind the front window, Precocious couldn’t help but smirk. The best way
to get rid of someone was to just offer her or him up the truth without any
sugar-coating. People who said they wanted the truth were usually looking for a
much softer version than most people wanted to give. Precocious had never been
any good at sugar-coating. You didn’t grow up moving around with a hippie
mother without learning how to just be blunt. She put the curtain back in place
and walked into the kitchen for something to drink. The message light on the
phone was blinking. She tapped the ‘play’ button with her index finger.
“Hey, Pre, it’s Chad. Just calling to say hi. Was wondering who that guy was on
Friday. I don’t think I’ve seen him around.”
“Oh, you have to be fucking kidding me.” Precocious very carefully placed the
glass she’d just pulled from the cupboard onto the counter. She wanted to slam
it down, but slamming it down meant breaking it, and breaking it meant walking
around in shoes for three weeks until she was sure that she’d swept up all the
shards. For a brief minute, she considered deleting the message and ignoring it
like she’d done in the past, but her blood was up, and there was enough Irish
in her to make her want to make someone bleed. She grabbed the phone before she
could think. Her nails raked against the counter top while she waited for Chad
to pick up.
”Hello?” He sounded half asleep.
“Look, you asshole; I want nothing to do with you. I don’t want to have
messages from you on my machine. I don’t want to run into you at the grocery
store. I don’t want to see you at Linda’s openings, or when I’m getting coffee,
or when I’m driving down the road. You’re a prick, and a fucktwit, and I dumped
your sorry ass because you get off on mind games and making me feel like shit.
And the next fucking time you call me to fuck with my head, I will call the
cops. And my fucking name is *Precocious*. I don’t *do* nicknames. I never
have. So, fuck off.”
There was a long pause, then, “Who is this?”
“Precocious.” Precocious suddenly had a very bad feeling. “Precocious Alaska
Grant. Who the hell is this?”
“This is Jack. Um…you looking for Chad?”
~Oh, my God, kill me in my stupid, chicklit novel moment.~ “Yeah.”
“Well, he’s crashed out next to me right now. I should be able to give him the
message, though.”
“Um, yeah, thanks.” Precocious wished for a lightening bolt. A very large,
painful, killing lightening bolt. “Bye.” She hung up the phone and considered
burying herself in the ground. “Son of a bitch. I finally snap, and I yell at
the wrong fucking guy. Who the fuck is *Jack*?”
~He’s crashed out next to me right now.~
The words pounded around in Precocious’s head until she made sense of them.
“’Next to me’? Why was Chad sleeping next to a-oh, no. No. No.” Before Precocious
could stop herself, she had hit redial on the phone and waited.
“Hello?”
“Jack?”
“Yeah.”
“This is Precocious. Um, I was just wondering, why is Chad sleeping next to
you?”
There was a sound like Jack was trying rather unsuccessfully to keep from
choking. “Excuse me?”
“It’s just, my brain is going in a direction I didn’t think it would ever go in
reference to Chad, but it’s going, and I’d like it to stop.” Precocious took a
deep breath and mentally kicked herself in the head. “So, I’m just wondering-“
“We fell asleep watching a really shitty movie.” Jack sounded equal parts
amused and pissed. “Have you ever seen ‘Anaconda’?”
“No.” ~Oh, my God, I’m a fuck.~
“Trust me, if you need a good nap, toss it in.”
“I’ll do that.” Precocious hung up without saying goodbye. Before she could
stop it, she was laughing hysterically while trying to stay upright. “My
fucking head.” She slid to the floor and leaned against the cabinets as she
kept laughing. Distantly, she heard the front door open, but she couldn’t stop
laughing to see how Linda’s date had gone. Luckily for her, Linda found her
first.
“What the hell?” Linda couldn’t help but smile. “Have you lost your mind?”
“ Ijust-“ Precocious cut off to laugh some more. “Oh, my God, Linda, I thought
Chad was *gay*!”
Linda’s eyebrows shot up, and she dropped into a crouch to get a good look at
Precocious. “You thought *Chad* was gay? *Chad*? The most aggressively,
honestly heterosexual male, ever? You thought he was gay?”
Precocious nodded and managed to get a breath before she started laughing
again. “It’s been a long, goddamned day.”
“Apparently.” Linda dropped from her crouch to a sit and pulled her legs up to
her chest. She rested her chin on her knees. “So, what happened?”
“Oh, man, hold on.” Precocious rocked back and forth as the last of the
laughter got out of her system. She took a deep, steadying breath, and couldn’t
keep the grin off of her face. “Julia came by. You missed her by about ten
minutes.”
“Oh, you’re kidding! What’d she want?”
“I don’t actually know. She just showed up, kept insisting we talk, keyed my
fucking truck, and I finally pissed her enough to get her to leave. Then, I
come in, and there’s a message from Chad. I decided to call the bastard and
tell him off, and I ended up telling off some guy who’s over there watching a
movie. He used the phrase ‘crashed out next to me’, and I had to call back and
make sure that I hadn’t misheard-“
“Wait, stop. You called Chad to *yell* at him, yelled at the *wrong* guy, then
called back to make sure your ex wasn’t a closet gay man?”
“Yes.”
Linda laughed loudly and put her head between her knees. “Oh, my fucking God.”
“This is what I’m saying.”
Linda shook her head and wiped tears from her eyes. The laughter didn’t stop.
“Who calls their ex *after* they yell at the wrong guy just to see if he’s
*gay*?”
“I do, apparently.” Precocious was laughed out, but she was smiling. It was a
funny situation, even if she was never going to live it down. “So, how’d it go
with Leon?”
Linda hiccupped and swallowed another laugh. “It was good. It was very nice. He
was a gentleman. He can hold a conversation. His ex lunged at him with a
corkscrew.”
“Wait, stop. Corkscrew?”
“Yeah. He’s got a scar on his leg. It’s kind of cute.”
Precocious giggled, but it was nowhere near as hysterical as it had been a
couple of minutes before. “Of course you’d think it was cute.”
“It’s a cool scar. It’s kind of twisty. I think I’m going to work the shape
into a painting.”
“Of course you are.” Precocious rolled her eyes fondly. “You know, you still
have half the door to finish. You could paint it there.”
“Nah.” Linda shook her head. “It doesn’t go with what I’ve got planned. I think
I’m going to do a whole painting of nothing but scars. I want to do Leon’s
corkscrew scar, the scar on my arm, that scar you have on the bottom of your
foot from that screw you stepped on, and I think maybe I’ll work in that scar
from that book.”
“Which book?”
“Oh, you know, that book we found online. About the cops and the stripper.”
Precocious nodded. “Oh, yeah, the National Novel Writer’s Month book.”
“Yeah, that one. With the Kendall guy. He had that scar on the back of his
hand; you know what I’m talking about?”
“Yeah. Did she ever revise that thing so that we know where the scar came from?”
“No.” Linda looked disappointed. “I went to her website the other day, and it
was up, but it hadn’t been revised. She had a note up saying she was doing
National Novel Writer’s Month again, though. Maybe she’ll do another mystery.”
“I bet she’ll go a different direction.”
Linda gave Precocious a questioning look. “You think so?”
“Well, the whole point of that thing is to see what you can write under a
deadline, right? Maybe she’ll try something new.”
“I guess. What do you think she’ll write?”
Precocious shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe she’ll do a romance novel.”
Linda blew a raspberry. “Those are so over-done. And they’re all the same. Girl
meets boy. Girl likes boy. Girl decides to hate boy because she overhears
something that’s completely out of context. Girl finally listens to boy after
he lights a bunch of candles and dumps rose petals over the bed. Girl runs off
with boy and life is perfect.”
“Maybe she’ll do an imperfect romance novel. Girl meets boy. Girl likes boy.
Girl and boy go to art exhibition. Girl shows up at boy’s house to find him
walking around with his naked ex-wife.”
Linda gave Precocious a wry smile. “That’s going to smart for awhile, huh?”
“Oh, yeah.”
*
Epilogue: Six months later [because every good, bad, ugly, stupid romance novel
has one.]
Precocious pushed the cart through the organic aisle of the grocery store and
stopped to contemplate the pasta. “Do we want green twisty things or red twisty
things?”
Linda was busy staring at all the different colored boxes, eyes focused inward
as she saw them on canvas. “We had green twisty things last time. Get red
twisty things.” She glanced over as Precocious threw the red twisty things into
the box. “Why don’t they ever make pasta in really fun colors like blue or
yellow or purple or blackberry?”
“Isn’t blackberry just blue?” Precocious eyed the various pasta sauces before
grabbing one that promised to taste like cheese and tomato.
“It’s a different shade than regular blue.” Linda patted herself down for a pen
and accepted the one Precocious handed over to her with a grin. “Thanks.” She
started sketching the shapes of the boxes on her hand. “You know, ever since I
went towards realism, everything seems to have taken on so much more
significance.”
Precocious shook her head. “Look, whatever you’re smoking to get that effect
from things, you really need to share. You promised me.”
“I promised I would share if I ever *started* smoking stuff that would make
every little thing seem significant. I have no excuse for my natural high.”
“Sure, yeah, whatever,” Precocious dropped her voice to a mutter, “you liar.”
Linda laughed. “Oh, shut up.” She dodged out of the way as a cart came towards
her from the other end of the aisle. “Hey, watch-oh, hey, Leon!”
Leon looked up from his shopping list and grinned at Linda. “Hey, there.” He
noticed Precocious. “Hey.”
“Hey, Leon.” Precocious jiggled the cart so it was closer to the wall of the
aisle. “How are you?”
“I’m good. I’m very good.” Leon nodded his head in agreement with himself. He
gave Linda a look over and tweaked her ponytail. “You’re looking good.”
Linda rescued her ponytail and smoothed the ends. “Thanks. Have a hot date,
recently?”
“Except for my niece, no. Although, she seems to think I’m the best guy ever.”
Linda reached out and ruffled Leon’s hair. “And you are.”
“Says the girl who dumped me.” There was no venom in his voice, just a warm,
teasing tone.
“Four dates does not constitute a dumping. Four dates is a trial period.”
“Oh, my God, Linda, just stop talking.” Precocious couldn’t help but laugh.
“’Trial period’? What are you? Time Life books?”
Linda shrugged and didn’t apologize. “I’m cautious about men. We all know that.
He had four dates, it was fun, but I wasn’t ready to date for serious
purposes.”
Leon waggled his eyebrows. “What about now?”
“Right now, I’m embarking onto a realism phase. I’m too busy seeing the tiny,
significant details of everything to worry about a man. See me in six months.”
“I can’t promise I’ll wait.”
Linda shrugged. “That’s cool.” She suddenly clapped her hands together and
tapped Leon’s shoulder. “Oh, you have to come over and see the sliding glass
door. It’s Gene Kelly.”
“With a Virgin Mary flaming heart,” Precocious added.
Leon nodded. “Cool. I definitely want to see it. I’ll call you tomorrow, see if
you’re out of your own head enough to show it off.”
“If I don’t pick up, call back immediately. That usually breaks me out of any
artsy state I might be in.”
“I can do it.” Leon accepted the hug Linda gave him and the wave from Precocious,
and continued down the aisle to the organic crackers.
“He really is such a nice guy.” Linda walked ahead of the cart, eyeing the meat
section as she tried to find some good meat for stew. “Maybe in six months…”
She trailed off, her tone obviously wistful. “I can’t believe I’m saying this,
but I miss having a boyfriend.”
Precocious picked up a package of cubed ground chuck and held it out for
Linda’s inspection. “I didn’t think I’d ever here you say that, again.”
“Leon’s good for stuff like that.” Linda gave Precocious a salacious grin. “As
well as other things.”
“Oh, surely not.” Precocious snorted and stopped in front of the cookie aisle.
“Oh, we have to get cookies for Mom. She’s going to be in at the end of next
week.”
“I’ll grab them. Hit the home improvement aisle and grab me a couple of two
inch brushes, will you?”
“Sure. I’m leaving the cart with you.” Precocious let go of the cart once she
was sure that Linda not only recognized its presence, but wouldn’t wander off
without it. “And grab some milk. We’re nearly out.”
“I know the shopping list.”
“You flake.” Precocious grinned at the falsely angry look Linda aimed at her
and headed towards the home improvement aisle. As she rounded the corner, she
was nearly assaulted by a cart. “Hey, watch-“ she stopped in the middle of her
sentence when she saw who was driving the cart. “Tyler, hi.”
Tyler looked like someone had smacked him on the back of the head with a large,
heavy object. “Precocious, good to see you.”
~Bullshit.~ Precocious didn’t call him on it. In the past six months, Zachary
had made a point to have all meetings with Tyler out of the office and off the
calendar. He’d been very over protective in the whole matter, Precocious
thought, but she didn’t call him on it. She hadn’t really wanted to see Tyler,
either. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. Fine. Thanks. I’m just getting ready to make some repairs to the
attic.” He held up the hammer he was purchasing like he needed to prove to her
that he wasn’t lying. “What have you been up to?”
“The usual. Work. Some more work. Keeping Linda from painting everything in the
house.” Precocious didn’t look at Tyler as she slid past him to grab three, two
inch brushes from the hook they were dangling on. “It’s been quiet.”
“Yeah, for me, too.” Tyler was obviously uncomfortable, but he didn’t seem
willing to say goodbye and get on his way. “Precocious…”
She glanced at him as she considered grabbing a couple of one inch brushes. She
knew that the ones Linda had were getting frayed. “Yeah?”
“I never got a chance to properly apologize for being a dick to you.”
Precocious shrugged and grabbed a couple of one inch brushes. “Look, it
happened. I’m not the type to hold a grudge against someone who isn’t involved
in big business, bad political maneuvering, or stupid protests against other
people’s protests.” She kept going before Tyler could do more than open his
mouth and try to keep apologizing. “I was pissed, but I’m not anymore. I got
over it. You’re a nice guy at the core; I can tell that. You made a mistake,
and I had the bad luck of walking in when it was happening. Just tell me, are
you seeing Julia at all?”
Tyler had to smile a little at that. For as calm as Precocious sounded about
the whole thing, her entire posture had changed when she’d said Julia’s name.
“I haven’t spoken to her in four months. I don’t know what she wanted. I don’t
know where it could have gone. And I’m glad that I can say that on both counts.
I’m a free man.”
Precocious smiled at him. “I guess you are.” She tossed her hair over her
shoulder. “Look, if you get some free time, and you want a friend, call me,
okay?”
Tyler nodded, “I’ll do that.”
“I’ll see you around.”
“Bye.”
Precocious left the home improvement aisle with a smile on her face and caught
up with Linda at the check out counter. “I just ran into Tyler.”
“Oh, yeah?” Linda was unloading the vegetables from the top of the stack of
groceries. “How is he?” She sounded vaguely disinterested, but she was giving
the magazine rack the look she had given the pasta boxes.
“He hasn’t spoken to the shrew of a banshee in four months. I told him to call
me if he needed a friend.”
“Good girl. You’re mature.” Linda hugged Precocious one-sided. “So, you and I,
single as always.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s much simpler this way.”
“Yeah. Romance sucks.”
Linda chuckled, then suddenly sobered up and smacked Precocious on the arm.
“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you, remember that girl who did National Novel
Writer’s Month?”
“The one who wrote about the guy with the scar?”
“Yeah.”
“What of it?”
“She finished posting the new novel. It’s a romance.”
Precocious laid the bread on top of the boxed cheesecake to keep it from
getting smushed. “Have you gotten a chance to read it? How is it?”
“Total, absolute shit.”