(Read Part 2 here)
Part 3
The alarm clock read 3:15 a.m. Sharon had been lying in bed since midnight and no matter how much she tried, she could not fall asleep. Jerell had called her back repeatedly but she didn’t answer. She turned off her phone to keep herself from being tempted to answer his call. She needed to think clearly, rationally. And she couldn’t do that with her phone ringing nonstop.
Her mind swirled with memories from Vegas. Deep in her heart, she knew she did what was right. It just felt like a cruel joke had been played on her heart. Who meets a man in Sin City and has a real connection? What are the odds that said man would be legally married and possibly still in love with her best friend? What if they decided to rekindle their lost love? How would she ever face either one of them? Would she have to give up her friendship anyway? Liz could have any man in the world. Did she even care about Jerell anymore?
She looked at the clock and it read 3:56 a.m.
He said their relationship was complicated. What exactly does that mean? Did he still love her? Sharon knew she had no rightful claim to him. They weren’t an official item, but she thought the chemistry went beyond physical. She had kissed a lot of toads. Jerell had prince potential.
The clock now read 4:23 a.m. She had a 6 a.m. spin class so there was no point in trying to get to sleep now.
She grabbed her phone to scroll through social media. Surely people on the other side of the country had something to distract her with. When she opened her app, she had messages from Jerell under his social media alias, @J_Rell.
YOU WON’T ANSWER YOUR PHONE SO THIS IS THE ONLY OTHER WAY I CAN TALK TO YOU.
OUR CONVERSATION DIDN’T GO AS PLANNED. I WASN’T EXPECTING YOU TO HAVE ANY TIE TO LIZ. IT’S A SMALL WORLD, I GUESS. I JUST WISH IT WASN’T THIS SMALL. CALL ME SHARON.
SHARON, TALK TO ME, PLEASE.
ARE YOU UP?
I CAN’T SLEEP. CAN WE PLEASE TALK?
CALL ME WHEN YOU GET THIS. I’M STILL UP.
I’M SO CONFUSED.
??
SO YOU’RE NEVER GOING TO TALK TO ME EVER AGAIN?
??
Sharon scrolled down to the last message and saw that it was from Liz.
I CALLED YOU SEVERAL TIMES AND KEEP GOING STRAIGHT TO VOICEMAIL. I’M ABOUT TO GO TO YOUR HOUSE. JERELL CALLED ME. CALL ME WHEN YOU GET THIS.
She sat up in her bed. Her clock read 5:15 a.m. Too early to call Liz. She wasn’t exactly a chipper person in the morning. The last thing Sharon wanted to do was talk to a grumpy Liz about Jerell. She swung her legs around to the side of the bed, switched her lamp on and stretched her arms above her head. She would call Liz after her class and a shower. Hopefully, she would be up by then.
She padded into her bathroom to brush her teeth. As she was brushing, she heard a loud thud on her door. She shut off her electric toothbrush to make sure that it was coming from her door and not her neighbor’s. This time, it was two loud thuds. She spit her toothpaste out and threw on her robe. She took a look through her peephole and saw Liz glaring back at her.
“Open up, Sharon. I heard you walk up to the door.”
Sharon stood back and looked around. She’s not sure what she was looking for, but she was buying time. Liz knocked again and yelled, “Sharon. This could get embarrassin’ if I have to yell our conversation through the door. I’m sure your neighbors would love that kinda action at –” she paused, “5:23 a.m.”
Sharon quickly unlocked her door. When she opened it, Liz rushed in, falling slightly into the wall. She reeked of alcohol and smelled oddly like what Sharon could only identify as lavender. She was wearing what looked to be a wrinkled, oversized black t-shirt that hung down to her knees under her leather moto-jacket. The t-shirt was half-tucked into some oversized blue sweatpants that had what appeared to be bleach stains dotted on the front. She was wearing her glasses which was a complete surprise since she never left the house without her contacts on- ever. Her braids were tucked up under a dark blue scarf that had small birds in mid-flight all over it.
She kicked off her flip flops and walked straight into Sharon’s kitchen. Sharon just stood at the door taking her all in. Liz grabbed a glass out of the cabinet and turned the faucet on. She filled it with water then guzzled the entire glass down. She did this three times before turning to look at Sharon.
“I’m thirsty.” Liz turned and filled up the glass again. Sharon had never seen Liz look so disrupted. Whenever they went out for drinks, Liz always stopped at two and has never, ever went past that. Watching trash TV seemed to be her only flaw and that was only on weekends when she wasn’t reading, doing yoga or writing. This disheveled drunk woman in her kitchen was completely unusual and unexpected.
“Are you drunk?”
“As a skunk!” Liz leaned over and put her forehead directly on the counter. “Who knew drinkin’ made your insides hot? I’m burning up. Your counter is cold tho’.” She rolled her forehead to the left and right.
“Please don’t tell me you drove in this condition.”
“Of course not,” which came out sounding like uhv, coarse snot. “I Ubered a Lyft over here.” Liz started giggling and her body started convulsing with laughter. “See what I did there?” She couldn’t stop laughing and crumbled to the floor. Sharon grabbed some aspirin out of the cabinet and sat down beside her on the floor.
“I started listenin’ to that dern Miley Cyrus CD after you left. It’s weird.” Liz wiped her face with her t-shirt, took the aspirin from Sharon and guzzled more water. Sharon noticed that her country accent was more pronounced and she was slurring her words. “I can’t take her seriously. I mean, it’s like she’s cussing like she just learned how and talkin’ ‘bout drugs just to seem cool. I need her to choose a freakin’ side.” Liz flip-flopped her hand back and forth as if she was testing to see if her wrist still worked.
“Hmm, I didn’t mean you should listen to it. I was just making conversation, remember?”
“You could’ve made conversation by telling me you met Jerell in Vegas.” Liz let out a long belch. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“What was I supposed to say?”
“That you met my ex-husband and ya’ll fell for each other.”
“He’s not your ex and that would require me knowing you were even married. You never shared that particular life detail, remember?”
“There’s that.” Liz took her glasses off and laid back flat on the floor.
“And the fact that you came in here stinking drunk lets me know that it bothers you.”
“I’m stinking drunk because I’m screwed up. A man that I once loved just called me to say that he met a wonderful woman and that woman happens to be my best friend who I think has had a slight disdain for me lately.” Sharon opened her mouth to protest but Liz cut her off. “Don’t even tell me you haven’t. I’m not sure why I bother you, and frankly, it don’t matter. This is what sisters do, the real housewives too. They love each other then get on each other’s nerves. It’s the circle of life. Hakuna-Matata. You’re my sister . . . from another Mister, but still my sister.”
Sharon didn’t know how to respond. This was a side of Liz she had never seen and she didn’t want to ruin the moment. She knew it was the alcohol talking but she didn’t want it to stop.
“And as a sister, I’m hurt but I know it wasn’t your intent. When Jerell called me and told me that you cut things off and refused to talk to him, I realized how much of a friend you are. I felt guilty for what I did to him, so I had a drink. Then I felt guilty because I can’t say I would have done the same for you, so I had another drink. Then I felt guilty for not telling you about my past in the first place and realized we could have avoided half of this if I had, so I finished the bottle. Next thing I knew, I was stalking through your social media and jumping in a car to come here becuz I knew you were going to workout first thing this morning like you always do. You’re the Timon to my Pumba.” Liz sat up and looked at Sharon with a half-smile on her face, waiting for her to laugh at her Lion King references. Liz had black smudges around her eyes from leftover mascara and eyeliner making her appear more sexy than drunk.
That’s when it dawned on Sharon that her recent disdain toward her friend was driven from her own insecurities. She had kept Jerell a secret because she was afraid that if he met Liz, he would want Liz more than he wanted her. Little did she know, the joke was on her. He would never truly be hers. Plus, she didn’t want any man to come in between moments like this. This was true, raw, messy, unnecessarily complicated but loving, real, and sincere.
Sharon grabbed Liz and hugged her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. A tear rolled down her cheek. Liz pulled back, wiped her own tears before wiping Sharon’s. “No, I’m sorry.”
“You’re my sister-friend,” Liz said.
“We were about to be sister wives.” Sharon raised an eyebrow and Liz started convulsing into laughter again. Sharon joined in and they laughed their way through the morning.
