More Than a Kiss

Martini Time

Amy sat in a chaise lounge with a wet towel draped over her forehead. She felt damaged, seriously damaged – like she might need some therapy time damaged.

“I am so sorry that happened to you,” Jordan said as Amy’s head screamed in pain. “No one should ever be subjected to that. The CIA should be informed of that torture method. It could crack any terrorist inside of thirty minutes.”

They were out in the backyard of Jordan’s house. Jordan had made Amy sit in the lawn furniture outside rather than risk letting her see the inside of the unfinished house.

After being rescued from P.C.’s, Petronella had taken Amy to her house and locked her in the study. She then proceeded to read aloud every poem she had ever written. Irma was overjoyed. Amy, not so much. Three hours later, Irma delivered Amy back to Jordan’s house.

Amy, her thirst for poetry forever sated, vowed to never go near another poem. Dr. Seuss included.

“Why didn’t you just grab the key and run?” Edison said, bringing Amy a lemon-lime martini. Amy had never had a martini. She’d never had the need for a stiff drink until now. Of course, she’d never been locked in a room with an egomaniacal poet either.

Amy pulled the cold compress from her forehead, sipped her martini, and put the cold compress back on her head. “Because Petronella had put the key in her underpants for safekeeping. You also might be interested to know, her panties have kittens and puppies on them. I spent some time under her skirt, remember,” Amy said.

“When did Petronella start wearing skirts?” Edison said.

“A better question is: when did she start wearing underwear,” Jordan said.

“Let me explain because I know all about it,” Amy said, sitting up and taking another sip of the martini. It was starting to help. “She said skirts address her more feminine nature and she is practicing wearing them so she can whip them off during the performance to reveal her vinyl pant suit.”

Edison and Jordan let that soak in.

“And,” Amy continued, “The puppies and kittens remind her that it’s okay to be weak and vulnerable. It’s all a part of the cycle of life. Or something like that.”

“Were her teeth still blue?” Edison asked.

“They did have a bluish tinge to them, now that you mention it,” Amy said with an involuntary shiver.

Jordan took a sip of Amy’s martini. She didn’t normally drink martinis, but it was dawning on her that Amy was at her house, well, sitting in the backyard, and this wasn’t how she’d imagined Amy seeing her house for the first time. She’d wanted the house to be finished and ready to showcase, not in this state of disrepair. She was afraid that Amy would equate the chaos of the house with the inside of Jordan. She wouldn’t be far off either, Jordan mused as she drained the martini.

“Edison, maybe you should make Amy another martini,” Jordan said handing over the empty glass.

“I’ll make you one, too.”

“I don’t drink martinis,” Jordan said.

“Okaaaaay,” Edison said, tromping back up to the house.

Jordan’s stomach rumbled. She was starving and had to eat soon. Maybe she could fix Amy dinner and light some candles and Amy wouldn’t be able to see what the house looked like in the candlelight. It might even be romantic.

Edison returned with two martinis. She handed them both to Amy. “Just in case you need another one.” She cocked her head in Jordan’s direction.

“Thank you. I’m feeling a little better. I think the vodka is making the buzzing noise in my head go away,” Amy said.

Edison sat in a nearby lawn chair. Jordan looked at Edison and tried to communicate something with her eyes. Edison shook her head like she didn’t understand. Jordan used her head to gesture toward the house. Edison raised her eyebrows in a questioning expression. Amy watched the entire exchange.

“What are you two doing?” Amy asked.

Jordan stuttered, “Uh… Oh, Edison, aren’t you going to be late?”

“Late?” Edison said. “For what?”

“You know… that thing.”

“Thing?”

“Yes, that thing,” Jordan said forcefully. “That thing you do every week at this exact same time.”

Finally, it dawned on Edison that Jordan wanted her to leave. “Oh! That thing.” Edison rose to her feet. “I better hurry. Bye, Amy.”

“Are you sure you have to rush off?” Amy said.

“Well,” Edison wavered, starting to sit back down. “I could maybe stay for…”

Jordan quickly interrupted, “No, you can’t stay, you have to go. You know how they get when you’re late.”

Edison hopped back up. “Right. They get really…”

“Mad,” Jordan filled in.

“Sad,” Edison said at the same time.

“I mean sad,” Jordan said.

“Mad,” Edison said at the same time. “Sad and mad.” As an afterthought, she threw in, “And glad.”

“Please don’t rhyme anymore. I’ve had all the rhyming I can take for one day,” Amy said while massaging her temples.

Edison laughed nervously and took several steps backwards. “So, goodbye!” She turned and trotted off toward the house, leaving Jordan and Amy alone.

Jordan chuckled and said, “Edison is brilliant, but sometimes a little dense.”

“You really care for her, though,” Amy said. “And she cares for you.”

“Yeah,” Jordan said. “I’m pretty lucky to have her for a friend.”

“Jeremy and Isabel are the closest friends I’ve ever had. Med school was so competitive that it was dangerous to get too close to anybody.” She sipped her martini.

“How about at work?” Jordan said. She sipped Amy’s other martini.

“We’re all friendly, but not friends, you know? There’s still some climbing to do if you want to be head of a department or position yourself to get into a cushy clinic. So people don’t let each other get too close.”

“Are you still climbing?” Jordan wasn’t sure how Amy felt about her career. What if having a girlfriend jeopardized her plans?

Amy responded, “The only other place I would consider working is Urgent Care. I like hands-on. I’m not interested in becoming the next director of Human Services and Surgery. I leave that to people like Chad. Even Jeremy just wants to help people. That’s why we can be friends. He wants to eventually go overseas and do that Third World thing. I couldn’t take the food.”

Jordan’s smile widened. She leaned in and kissed Amy lightly on the lips. “So having a girlfriend isn’t going to mess up your life plan?”

“No, silly.”

Jordan made her monumental decision. If Amy was willing to share her life with Jordan then a remodeled house that was stuck in the nightmare stage shouldn’t stop her. “Would you like to come inside? If you promise to ignore the shambles of remodeling, I promise to not blindfold you. I can make us something to eat.”

At the mention of eating, Amy’s stomach growled loudly. She giggled. “I think that was a definite yes.”

“Okay,” Jordan said, draining the last of the martini. “Just remember the house is a work in progress.”

“Aren’t we all,” Amy said.