The longer I waited, the more my chest got tight, the more I had to practice deep-breathing in order not to cry.
It was my decision to break up with Vance. I made it. I carried it through. It was better for me, I knew it.
The problem was, lying in bed, alone in the moonlight, I didn’t believe me anymore.
Chapter Eighteen
Pizza, Football and Facials
From somewhere far away I heard my phone ringing.
With effort I dragged myself out of a deep sleep to hear the voice after my answering machine message.
“Babe, pick up the phone.”
Luke.
I rolled over and reached up to the high alcove next to the bed and dragged down the phone.
“What?” I said into it.
“Get dressed. We got a takedown. Be there in five.”
Disconnect.
I laid there with my phone to my ear for a second then blinked up at the clock. It was after two in the morning.
Luke had a takedown. That meant they were going after a bad guy. That also meant that Luke wanted me to come with them.
I threw back the covers, Boo screeched, “Meow!” and I swung off the bed.
* * * * *
It was Sunday night (Monday morning, really) and I’d had a day of no rest.
It was another shit day, post-Vance, still no word, no sign, nothing.
I’d woken up that morning after the Luke Kiss, dragged myself out of bed, dragged on my clothes and dragged my ass to the grocery store to get cat treats and the makings for quesadillas.
I had no idea what was in a quesadilla, or how to make one but I guessed. I bought a bunch of other stuff too.
While rolling my cart through the grocery store I decided to learn how to cook. I was going to take a new lease on life. I was going to be the New Jules. I was going to learn to cook. I was going to be a better mama to Boo. I might even learn to knit. I was going to be a domestic goddess, super-social worker by day and a drug dealer ass-kicker by night. I was going to fill every second with new, golden opportunities. I was going to take on the kitchen, make my cat the happiest cat on the planet, buy myself some knitting needles and then take on the world.
On the way home, I stopped by the liquor store and bought more Fat Tire.
I went home and gave Boo enough kitty treats to send him into a kitty treat coma. He got all purry and then flopped down in a sunbeam on the chaise lounge and didn’t move for hours.
I was cleaning the house and baking brownies from a box (starting small) when a knock came at the door.
It was Daisy.
It wasn’t just Daisy. It was Daisy carrying an overnight bag.
“Are you moving in?” I asked, staring at the bag.
“Home facial!” she shouted, shoved me aside and walked in.
She dumped the overnight bag down on my couch and started to pull out jars, bottles, towels, sprays and all sorts of stuff.