"Happy New Year!" screamed Shauna directly into Jan's ear.
The noise sent waves of pain crashing throughout Jan's head, almost causing her to throw the phone and pray it landed softly.
In a hushed, hangover-appropriate tone she whispered, "Ditto."
This is the worst morning of my life, she thought as she rubbed her aching temples. Why, why, why did I drink that much? I didn't know I could drink that much.
If she didn't die of alcohol poisoning first, she was going to kill Juan, then Lisa, then Becki, then... hmm? There was someone else, but she couldn't remember who.
"And Merry Christmas, Happy Kwanza, Winter Solstice, Chanukah, et cetera," Shauna continued in her cheery, "nice Shauna" voice.
Jan smiled. This Christmas had been the best Christmas of her life, and she had gotten to spend it with her friends. Although Juan's invitation to spend Christmas at the Mirón household had been sincere, Jan had not felt comfortable with the idea. At first she thought it was odd that she had sought to spend past holidays with her boyfriends' families and yet would feel weird spending the holiday with a male friend. Then she asked herself if she had really had that much fun with her boyfriends and remembered that she had been extremely uncomfortable. The families had acted like sororities that would never accept her and her boyfriends had for the most part ignored her. Considering she had mostly invited herself, she couldn't altogether blame them.
She did not think that Juan's family would be anything unwelcoming, but they did not know her and were probably more interested in catching up with family than talking to the guest. Instead, she had opted to accept Lisa's invitation. Spending Christmas morning with Lisa and her parents, and the rest of the day with Lisa and Becki, had been a lot more fun than Thanksgiving with Nichole. Jan was still feeling relieved and grateful that Becki had forgiven her in the spirit of the season.
"Happy all those things to you too," Jan responded. "What did you do for New Year's?" she asked Shauna, though she was really asking herself. She couldn't remember much of her night.
"Meditated," Shauna answered, then switched gears into her "evil Shauna" voice. This tone had the power to make Jan sit up straighter and draw in her abs. "You know, you haven't come in for a session in a while. If you don't get back into the routine soon, you will undo all the progress you've made. Your body won't stop storing fat just because of the holidays. Now, I know you're on break from school so there shouldn't be anything keeping you from scheduling a session. I'd like to see you no later than Tuesday, okay?"
Jan considered revealing to Shauna the sad truth that actually she did have something that might conflict with training, besides a lack of funds. As of three weeks ago, she had started working as a dog bather at a small grooming salon in Pacific Beach. Jan found the entire situation too embarrassing for words and figured what Shauna didn't know wouldn't hurt her. The only two people she had told were Lisa and Becki. She had needed Lisa's help to prep for the interview. Becki had been told because she lived close to the salon and had been the one to get Jan the application.
"Tuesday's fine," Jan said. "But I'll have to call you later to schedule a time. I'm not sure what my plans are that day."
Shauna scoffed. Jan knew that Shauna trusted her to call about as far as she could throw her. Maybe less.
"I'll call you tomorrow morning then. I'm sure I'll have some appointment times for Tuesday still available. Quite a few of my clients will still be out of town on vacation, no doubt kicking back, pigging out, and wondering why they're gaining weight."
Jan nodded, realized Shauna couldn't see her, and said, "Idiots."
Shauna laughed. "You said it, not me. Talk to you tomorrow. Enjoy the rest of your day."
They each said goodbye and hung up simultaneously.
Now that Jan was awake, she decided to attempt to get up. She groaned in agony as her head pounded in protest and her stomach heaved. She immediately sat back down. To her right, she noticed some angel of mercy, presumably Lisa, had left three bottles of water on her nightstand. Jan eagerly grabbed all three and watered her dry throat.
Now, what was I trying to remember? Oh yeah. What happened last night?
There was someone else she held responsible for how awful she was feeling. A name was on the tip of her tongue. Was it someone she met at the party?
The party had been at the beach house belonging to one of Juan's friends. He had invited her and told her to bring her girl friends. She in turn had invited Lisa and Becki. The three amigas had shown up dressed to kill... then some stuff happened. Next thing she remembered she was drunk-dancing in the living room with some guy, going outside for a walk with the same guy, sharing a sloppy New Year's kiss on the beach with presumably the same guy, and then coming home with...
Oh God, no!
"Nick," she said louder than she'd meant to as memories clicked into place.
"Yeah, babe?" said a voice from her living room.
Jan screamed.
A good-looking six-foot-tall blond in jean shorts and a ratty T-shirt came running into her room.
"Are you all right?"
Jan screamed again and fled to the bathroom, where she was anything but all right. Her head hung in her toilet as she strained to expel a stomach-full of alcohol and nothing else. She snatched a hair tie from around her wrist and tried to put her hair back into a ponytail, but pieces kept slipping out and falling into the vomit's path.
"Oh, gross," she heard Nick say from behind her. She wished she could stop puking long enough to retort with something witty. But the next thing she heard was the door to her apartment slam shut.
And that was the last time Jan saw her one night stand.
"I've been used," Jan blubbered onto Lisa's shoulder. She'd been whining on and off for about twenty minutes, her crying intermingled with moments of white-hot rage, and the occasional trip to the bathroom.
Jan had called Lisa the moment her stomach had settled and she'd made certain that the asshole had really left. Lisa had run right over with a box of tissues and a sympathetic shoulder.
Lisa handed her another tissue. Jan blew her nose into it then dropped it on the floor where a sizable pile was forming. Lisa winced as it hit the ground and Jan could tell she desperately wanted to clean up. Lisa was such a neat freak she couldn't stand to see anyone make a mess, even in their own apartment.
"Could you get me a bottle of water, please?" Jan asked through sniffles. Lisa smiled broadly and got up, but not before picking up the all tissues. She took them with her to the kitchen and deposited them in the trash.
"Here," Lisa said and handed Jan a bottle of Penta. Jan had switched to Penta-brand water recently in an effort to increase her workout efficiency. The advertising claimed the product aided in hydration and tasted so good that people could break their addiction to coffee. Jan doubted the claims but she needed something to replace her beloved Smart water. She hadn't been comfortable drinking Smart water since Lisa pointed out that it didn't make you smarter. So she stocked up on Penta. A girl needed something to give her an edge. Jan chugged the bottle.
Lisa sat back down on the couch next to Jan and got that far-away look on her face that meant she was either coming up with a plan, or fantasizing about Dr. McDreamy from Grey's Anatomy.
After several minutes of watching Lisa think, Jan's patience wore out.
"What?" she demanded.
Lisa jumped slightly and then stared blankly at Jan. "I was just wondering if anything actually happened. I mean, you said you don't remember much about last night. You don't even remember sleeping with Nick. You barely remember him driving you home. How do you know you even had sex?"
Jan opened her mouth to point out the obvious facts that she'd been drunk, she hadn't had sex in nearly three months since Mike had dumped her, and she'd woken up to find Nick still in her apartment that morning.
She finished sarcastically, "He probably didn't hang around all night just to ask me what my New Year's resolution was."
Lisa listened to Jan's arguments in silence, like a defense attorney waiting to cross-examine a witness.
"True, but when you woke up, he wasn't in bed with you, correct? And when he came rushing into your bedroom, after you screamed, he was fully clothed. The fact that he was still here actually implies you didn't have sex. Don't guys usually flee the scene after they get what they want?" She looked to Jan for an answer.
Jan balked. "How the hell should I know? I've never done this, or not done this, before."
Lisa patted her hand. "You probably just fooled around."
Jan groaned. She didn't buy that at all. There was no way that after three months of abstinence she could have "fooled around" and not gone any further. She had to accept the shameful fact that she'd had sex with a stranger even if she had been too drunk to truly give consent.
Thank goodness she'd recently put herself back on the pill to regulate her periods. The last thing Jan wanted was children. In a perfect world, she would love to have a fairy-tale husband, but her dream of ideal dependents were goldfish. Fish were low-maintenance and easily replaceable.
Jan said, "I wish I could remember. Everything about last night is a blur after someone handed me a double shot of 151."
"We should get Becki over here and maybe between the three of us we can help you remember something that can help."
Jan shook her head. "I don't think Becki needs to hear about this. After what Danny did to her, I just don't think it's a good idea."
"Don't worry about Danny. Becki is definitely over him. If you'd seen the way she was flirting with your friend, Juan, you would know she's moved on."
Jan's eyes flashed with an emotion similar to jealousy and bordering on possessiveness. She remembered introducing Juan to Becki and Lisa when they had arrived at the party, then heading to the kitchen to scrounge free food. After she'd asked someone for an orange juice, she'd been given a shot glass containing something that was neither orange nor juice. In the spirit of New Year's Eve she consumed the alcohol before you could say, "One fifty one." Everything after that was fuzzy. She wasn't sure that she wanted to hear about Becki and Juan. Perhaps if she hadn't left Juan with Becki she and Juan may have ended up...
Jan let her fantasy play out a little until she realized that she wasn't enjoying where it was going. If she had woken up with Juan instead of Nick would she have felt better just because she knew Juan? Her heart told her no. She had always held the policy that she would not sleep with a guy unless she made the decision to do so when she was sober and he had at least taken her on a real date. Besides, she wasn't supposed to be thinking about guys; she was supposed to be focusing on herself.
"I don't think I can take a rehash of last night right now. All I want to do is crawl into my closet, burrow under my clothes pile, and die. If you could just carry me to my closet, that'd be super."
Lisa laughed. Jan didn't know what was so funny. She was in enough pain that hiding in the darkest place she could think of and sleeping it off sounded like a great idea to her. Not to mention that she was embarrassed enough to never show her face in public again.
"Jan?"
She opened her eyes, which she hadn't remembered closing. Lisa was watching her closely as if Jan were a mental patient.
"I asked you if you wanted to go back to bed. You don't work today, do you?"
Jan couldn't remember where she worked at the moment, let alone when.
"I don't remember," she said. She'd lain back on the couch and was rubbing her temples again. "My work schedule's on the fridge."
Lisa got up and walked into her kitchen. Jan closed her eyes again.
"It says you work today. Your shift starts at 2 PM. It's only ten-thirty now."
Jan heard Lisa walk back into the living room.
"Why don't you go back to sleep for a couple of hours and I'll wake you up around one, okay?
"Sure," Jan mumbled, not quite sure what she was agreeing to but understanding that it involved sleep.
"Okay then, up you go," Lisa said and started pulling on Jan's arms. As they walked to the bedroom, Lisa pointed out as evidence that Jan was still wearing the same clothes she had on the night before. Jan didn't have the energy to argue that her being dressed didn't mean anything conclusive. It was possible to have sex and get dressed again. What she was wearing might have been the only clean clothes she had.
Before drifting off to sleep, Jan was aware of Lisa coaxing two white pills into her mouth and more water down her throat.
The last clear thought Jan had before losing consciousness was that no matter how she felt when she woke up one thing was certain, she was going to have to pee like a racehorse.
Lisa woke Jan up at one o'clock as promised. Whatever pills she had given her had worked to reduce her headache, but had done nothing for her stomach. She begged Lisa to call in sick for her. The prospect of spending the rest of New Year's Day bathing uncooperative dogs for $8 an hour was enough to make Jan suicidal.
But Lisa begged Jan with equal vehemence to reconsider. She knew Jan needed the money. Jan knew she needed the money. Her employer at Molly's Grooming Salon knew she needed it too, or she wouldn't have scheduled Jan to close the salon on a holiday.
"All right, all right. I'm going." Jan knew she didn't have a choice.
When Jan arrived at work, she was done thinking about how much she hated her job and was focused instead on the state of her nails. The tiny hourly wage she received after the greedy government took its share didn't leave Jan with enough to afford a set of fake nails from Rite Aid, let alone her usual pink and white fill from Gigi's Salon & Day Spa. It was just as well. The dogs would probably rip off her fake nails if she had them to strip her of her only weapon before going for her throat. If she never had to muzzle a "touchy" Doberman or a "spirited" Pomeranian again it would be too soon.
Jan was muttering to herself about the unfairness of life when her boss walked in.
"Hi, Jan," she said as if she deserved a medal for remembering her employee's name.
"Hi, Molly," Jan answered in a decent imitation of Molly's tone. She'd been trying to get it right since her first day. Apparently, no one told Jan that you shouldn't patronize your boss.
Molly drew herself upright and stared down at Jan with disapproving eyes. Jan almost snickered. After years of seeing disapproval stamped all over her mother's face, Molly's little holier-than-though display didn't faze her in the least.
"Is there something you'd like me to do for you?" Jan asked with wide, innocent eyes. Working with puppies had taught her a few tricks.
"No. Just man the front desk. If we get any walk-ins and you need me to shave a dog, I'll be in the back. Otherwise, I'd prefer not to be disturbed." Molly walked past Jan and into her office before Jan had a chance to say anything sarcastic like, "It's too late. You're already disturbed."
She was thinking it, though.
She continued to mutter complaints to herself as she put on her smock and pulled her hair away from her face. She then went out to the front desk and plopped herself down upon the uncomfortable stool. She picked up the appointment book and began flipping through the pages to find January 1st. When she found the correct page, she scanned through the entries to see what time the dogs were coming in. She did this every time she started a shift, figuring that if she planned her breaks just right, whoever else was working with her would get stuck with the problem dogs. Though no one else was scheduled to work with her that day, Jan checked anyway. She froze when she saw the name of her ex-boyfriend's mother written neatly under the next appointment. There, written right under "3 PM: Princess" was the name "Joan Harris".
Jan clutched her weak stomach and ran to the bathroom.
"Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic," she told herself over and over again between taking breaths into a paper bag.
She thought back to the one occasion on which Jan had actually met Mrs. Harris. During the casual dinner at their house, Mike's mother had been sweet and appeared as if her only flaw was a slight attitude of needing to be in control of everyone. She had seemed welcoming to Jan's face at least. However, Mike told her later that his mother had been very disappointed in Jan's manners and lack of social skills. Jan had not so much as put her elbows on the table. Mike had explained to her that his mother had been more offended by Jan's silence and cold attitude. Jan had retorted that she had been nervous and perhaps would not have been that way if Mike hadn't kept leaving her alone at the table. Due to the unfair criticisms, she had refused to set foot in the Harris household again, not that she had been invited. She assumed Mike's mother was one of those women who couldn't stand seeing their baby boy with another female.
Now that she and Mike were broken up, Jan didn't care what kind of woman her ex-potential-mother-in-law was. She simply hoped she wouldn't recognize Jan wearing a pitiful smock and no makeup.
But what if she does recognize me? Maybe I can fake an injury and go home early? She glanced at the clock above the entrance. It read 2:23 PM. That gave her approximately thirty-seven minutes to come up with a plan and carry it out. What she needed was back up.
She whipped out her phone. I need 2 fake an injury 2 get outta work. Any ideas, she typed.
Ten agonizing minutes later she got a response from Lisa. It read: No. if ur feelin sick ask 2 go home.
I already threw up. the bitch heard me but didnt come out of her office. I need something dramatic. mikes mom is coming.
Response, much quicker this time: What?!
Jan strangled her phone and imagined Lisa's neck in its place. It was now 2:37 PM. Jan was running out of time.
She opened her phone again and typed: mikes mom has an appt at 3. what do I do.
hide.
Jan nearly threw her phone into a nearby sink. A beep stopped her. Lisa had sent her another idea.
jk. get sum1 2 cover 4 u. or ask molly 2 watch desk and take break
"I wish," Jan said aloud. Molly never remembered her breaks. The girls just covered for each other when they could, but since she was alone she couldn't leave.
She sat for a few minutes staring into space, hoping an answer would leap out at her from the blank wall. Just as she was getting up to confront Molly and get the hell out of there, a snotty sixteen-year-old with a nose ring, a Bluetooth headset welded to her ear, and a pissy Pomeranian under her arm walked in.
"Can I help you?" Jan asked automatically. She shivered. In three weeks she still hadn't gotten used to saying that. She couldn't make herself say, "How can I help you?" which is what Molly preferred. Jan was holding out for the possibility of someone saying, "No, thanks."
"Bitch," the sixteen-year-old shouted. Jan was about to bitch-slap her across the nose ring when she realized that the teenager may have been talking into her phone.
Jan tried, "Excuse me?" She glanced at the snarling Pomeranian. Like many toy dogs, the Pomeranian had "small-dog syndrome", in which it strived to be as intimidating as possible to make up for its tiny stature.
The teen rolled her eyes. "Hold on a second, Vicki. I have to talk to the dog girl."
Jan bristled and nearly snarled.
The girl looked at Jan. "This is Princess. Here." She deposited the dog on the counter.
Jan had by now figured out that the "bitch" comment had been directed at Vicki and not herself.
"This is Princess?" Jan breathed a huge sigh of relief. With a magnanimous heart she added, "She's adorable."
Jan knew that Mike didn't have a younger sister so there must be more than one Joan Harris in San Diego. She was safe.
The teenager put her hand over the headset's receiver. "When will she be ready?"
"An hour," Jan replied, in no mood to hurry. She grabbed a leash and placed it loosely around Princess' royal neck.
"Fine," the teen replied. She then began blabbing to her friend again into her headset about how fat some girl named Sally was. Right as she was walking out the door she turned back to Jan and said, "Oh, and my cousin Mike will be picking Princess up. He's about five nine, blond hair, blue eyes, I think. Just don't give him any problems about picking up the dog." She turned her head back around to walk out, leaving Jan to quiver in fear.
"Oh, and Aunt Joan said to tell you that Princess can get a little 'prissy' sometimes, so be careful. But don't muzzle her. She could have a panic attack and die." Her last word dripped with melodrama. The teen's laughter followed after her as she exited the building. Jan felt like running after her and slamming the door just for spite, but her legs were shaking too badly to obey. She sat down on her stool and got out her cell to update Lisa on the situation. As she was typing out a message, she felt that her heart racing as if it had been injected with NOS. But Jan tried to look at the bright side. At least now she had a reason to go home. She was definitely going to have a nervous breakdown.