Free Checked Again by Jennifer Jamelli Page B

when she comes up to get rid of that bath
mat.”
    He
doesn’t look back up at me as he turns to leave.
    My
mouth is dry, but I manage to scrape out one word. “Thanks.”
    He
nods, but his back is to me. And then he goes.
    He’s
gone. Again.
    Fortunately
(in a strange kind of sadistic way), I can’t think about that right now. I have
to take a shower.
    After
leaning in and turning the shower on, I do as I’m told. I take off all of my
clothes and leave them and my one remaining flip-flop on the mat beneath me. I
then empty the contents of my purse on the bathroom counter and drop the purse
on the mat, too.
    I’m
probably going to need to go purse shopping soon. Perhaps when I go bathroom
mat shopping.
    I
won’t be shopping for new flip-flops, though. Ever. Screw me once…
    For
now, the water is nice and burning, so it’s time for my shower. Before I even
step in, I hold out my foot and just let the water pound over it. Maybe the
burning water can still remove some of the diseases before they somehow enter
my body. I’m not sure. But it’s worth a try.
    After
thirty counts of three, I step fully into the shower. Using my purple bath
pouf, I scrub for about ten minutes, rinse, and repeat. And repeat again.
Before my final rinse, I hear Mandy come in. She doesn’t speak as she gathers
the items on the floor, depositing them all into a trash bag. I open the shower
door a little and ask her to also get rid of my purple pouf (I’ll obviously
need to grab a new one from my closet after tonight). Mandy holds out the trash
bag, and I drop it in. She looks at me with sad, concerned eyes, but she
doesn’t say anything.
    I
try to make the corners of my mouth turn up in a smile as I thank her, but I
don’t do very well. And Mandy’s expression doesn’t change. She just sort of
nods and exits the bathroom with my bag of hazardous waste.
    I
hope she’s not too upset.
    And
I hope she doesn’t tell Mom.
    As
I climb out of the shower and get ready to start my night preparations, I try
to come up with a way to explain this situation to Mandy…a way that will make
her feel better. I don’t really get much of a chance to come up with a good
explanation, though, because Mandy walks into my room right after I get
dressed. She holds up my spare car key.
    And…I’m
not surprised. Of course he took Mandy back to the parking lot and had her
bring my car home. Of course he took care of that. Of course he took every
proper comforting step he could think of. He always does.
    Except
when he left me. When he—
    “He
still cares about you, Callie.” Mandy speaks quietly. “It’s so obvious.”
    I
catch her eyes for a second. She’s watching me carefully, waiting for a
reaction. Waiting for me to say something. I don’t want to talk about
it…him…though. I shrug and look away, thanking her for once again going to get
my car.
    “He
insisted,” she responds. “And he wanted me to tell you right away. He didn’t
want you to have to worry about your car all night or to freak out about
needing it to get groceries tomorrow or something.”
    Groceries.
Right. He remembers my entire schedule. Of course.
    Mandy
keeps talking, still standing just inside the doorway to my room. “He also
wanted me to tell you that he was going back for your flip-flop. He was certain
that you’d be upset about it being left behind and in the way or something.”
    Damn.
Damn. Damn. It. It. It.
    Get.
Out. Of. My. Head.
    {Alanis
starts “Uninvited” again.}
    “Would
you really be upset about something like that?” Mandy asks as though she
doesn’t believe anyone would ever be worried about something like this.
    I
look away and offer a simple “maybe” as an answer to her question.
    Fortunately,
she doesn’t say anything else about it. She gives me a hug, says good night,
and mumbles something about being around if I want to talk.
    I
guess she thinks that I might want to verbally run through my whole broken ass
flip-flop-leaving Cinderella