It's so late but still dark outside, and I'm groggy. I have no idea what time it is as I roll over and reach for Cat. He meows his displeasure at me, but now that I know he's okay, I can start trying to figure out the pit in my stomach.
I pick up my phone and learn that it's 4:23am. I can see I have texts from Ava, and I unlock my phone, worried.
The first message is a picture of a bottle of Jack Daniels. The text just says cheers. I can see that she sent it around 1am.
The next text is her asking if I'm awake, around 2:30am. Her texts begin to get really sloppy and a little dark around 3am.
As soon as I see the most recent text was just a few minutes ago, I call her.
She answers, laughing.
"Janeeeee. Janie. Does anyone call you Janie?"
I shake my head, my eyebrows furrowed. "No, Ava, no one calls me Janie."
"I miss you, Janie."
"Don't be ridiculous. You just saw me."
"I know, but I miss the way you taste," she says, lowering her voice. "The way you feel. I miss so many things."
She's rambling, but I kind of like it. It's like an unfiltered peek into her brain.
"I miss myself," she whispers. "I miss how happy I used to be. How full of life. You would have loved the old me, Janie."
I try to think of how to delicately phrase my response.
"I like this you, Ava. I'm sure you're right about the old you, but I like this you, too."
"How can you like anything about me?" she asks through a hiccuped sob. "I am less than nothing."
I wring the blanket through my fingers, willing my brain to come up with answers that won't make this situation worse. "You are way more than nothing to me."
Deep in my belly, I remember these moments. These feelings.
"I don't know why. I don't understand. I don't have anything left."
"You have so much. You have me, and you have Cat. Ava, how much of the bottle did you drink?"
Her voice is low, ashamed. "I don't know."
"Is the bottle still near you?"
"No, Janie. It's on the ground."
"Can you move and see it?"
"Can't move. Don't wanna."
Fuck.
"Can I come over? Bring you Gatorade and provisions for the morning?"
"You've never been to my apartment."
Her voice is kind of full of surprise, and it makes me giggle quietly.
"True, I haven't. Can I come over now? I'm worried about you."
"I don't know... "
It feels like an invasion and I'm so conflicted. But I'm also so worried. If she drank the rest of the bottle, she might need to go to the emergency room.
"Let's be logical. What are the reasons you don't want me to come over?"
"My apartment is such a shithole. It's empty. Like me. Dirty. Cold."
"Like I care if your apartment is dirty or messy."
Ava exhales. "Okay."
I don't give her a chance to take it back. "I'll see you in 10," I say, and then hang up. I put my pajamas bottoms and a tank top on, with my puffiest, most comfortable hoodie over. I don't bother with a bra, because who the fuck even cares. I'm glad that I know exactly where everything is in the grocery store, I make it through in 5 minutes. I know I'm farther than 5 minutes, but I hope I can hit all green lights. I try not to speed, or break any major traffic laws because the last thing I need is to get pulled over.
By the time I get there, the sun is peeking out from the horizon. I send Ivy a text and ask her to cover for me at work, to let our boss know that I'm out sick. I can call him later, but I can't take the time right now; my whole focus is on Ava.
I find the exterior stairs and make my way up to her door. I try to knock quietly, but that doesn't seem to get an answer, so I try harder, needing to make sure she's okay. The bags are on the ground and I can finally hear her footsteps approaching the door, which brings relief.
When she opens the door and I see the shape she's in, I'm bowled over with sadness.
"Janie," she says, smiling and reaching her hands out to me.
I set the bags inside, close the door behind us, and pull her into my arms. She reeks of whiskey and vomit.
"Oh, Ava. Did you throw up, honey?"
"I don't know. I think so, maybe," she mumbles. "I'm sorry."
At the mention of vomit, she heaves and throws up more. All over me.
She's crying again and I'm reminded of the funny meme on the internet comparing toddlers to drunk people.
"It's okay. Let's just get these clothes off and get you into the bathroom, okay? I'm going to help you get undressed, but if you need me to stop at any time, just let me know and we'll stop."
Ava nods and lifts her arms up. She shifts her weight from foot to foot while waiting for me to pull her shirt off. I'm trying to strategize, figure out how to best remove it while not spreading the vomit any more.
"We might need to get into the shower," I say, mostly to myself.
"I'm so tired, Janie." She looks at me and I know it's not the kind of tired that gets cured with sleep.
"I know, honey. I know. Don't worry. I'm going to tuck you in soon."
I pull her pants down and off, and then her socks join the pile.
"Come on, let's go get in the shower, okay?"
"Okay."
She grabs my hand and leads me to the bathroom. She's right, her apartment is tiny and she doesn't have many things, but it isn't cold. Inside the bathroom, I get the water going and then strip down out of my clothes.
"Is... is it okay if I'm naked, too?"
"Please," she says with so much pain in her voice that tears instantly pool in my eyes.
We somehow manage to squeeze into her tiny shower. I grab her shampoo and lather her hair gently. Once it's rinsed, I put some conditioner in, and then grab her sponge and body wash. When I have her soaped up, I tip her head back and make sure that nothing gets in her eyes. I run my fingers through the soft strands, untangling them and making sure everything is rinsed out. I splash the water along her body, rinsing the soap away. There's nothing romantic or sexy in what we're doing.
When I'm sure she's all rinsed, I turn the water off and reach for the towel. There's only one, so I'm careful to leave a tiny part dry for myself. She reaches for her toothbrush and leans against the counter, eyes half-closed and brushes while I towel off, then she guides me out to her bed. I tuck her in, pull the trash can closer, and softly kiss her cheek.
"Sweet dreams, Ava."
Our eyes meet and she looks so vulnerable.
"Stay? Please?"
"Are you sure? I need to go get my pajamas back on?"
She nods and shakes her head no at the same time, her hand smoothing over the skin of my arm, and I can't refuse. I don't really want to leave her. I want to be as close as I can in case she throws up again, or needs me in the night. Well, morning. I want to know she's breathing and okay as she sleeps, even if it means I'll barely get to close my eyes.
"Do I need to call anyone and let them know you won't be at work tomorrow?"
Ava practically jumps out of bed, sitting straight up at the mention of work. "I have to be at work!"
"Let's talk about it in a few hours. For now, just lie back down and relax."
Her body falls back into the bed at practically a dead drop speed. "Okay."
I roll my eyes and shake my head, grateful she can't see. She lifts my arm and curls against my body. One of her hands caresses its way up to my breast, and she leaves it there, cupping and holding me, as she falls asleep.
Before I can count to 10, she's snoring and snuggling into me even more. Her curtains don't hide enough light, but I manage to find my way back to sleep eventually.
In the morning, or what's really the afternoon, it's almost like I was the one drunk at 4am. I'm disoriented and exhausted still, but I hear Ava throwing up in the bathroom and feel remorseful that I'm thinking about myself.
I put my clothes back on and make my way to the kitchen to grab the Gatorade. It sounds like she's finished, but I can't tell if she's going back to bed. When I get back into the room and don't spot her, I peek around the attached bathroom door to see her lying on the tile floor.
"Gatorade?" I ask quietly.
She groans and makes noises.
"I'll go get McDonalds? Unless you want something else? Bagels?"
I'm trying not to crawl down onto the floor with her, she looks so sad and pathetic.
"Oh god," she says, still moaning. "Please, no talk about food. Just a fountain Coke. And so many Advil."
"I brought Advil last night, but I'll go run and grab a Coke. Do you need anything else?"
I grab my purse and fish out the bottle of medicine, setting it by her head.
"Just for the love of everything, please be so quiet. I'm sorry."
Ava starts to cry softly, gripping the towel she's pulled down as a makeshift blanket, and my heart breaks a little. I lean down to gently pat her back.
"It's okay, you don't have to be sorry."
Her only response is more soft crying. It's awkward, but I try to stay and comfort her as long as I can.
"I'm going to get you that Coke now, but I'll be right back. If you think of anything else you need, text me, okay?"
She nods her head slightly and I walk out of the apartment as quietly as possible. More quietly than a woman my size should be able to, frankly. It's something I've always been proud to be good at: being more quiet than I should be, or shrinking myself into invisibility.
I tiptoe down the stairs and get into my car. I consider going inside the bakery to make sure everything is okay, but it seems to be; someone is inside helping customers. I open my phone and find the nearest gas station, then navigate there and get the biggest fountain Coke I can. I consider getting two, but decide I can go out again later if another one is necessary.
When I get back, I knock quietly and open the apartment door, expecting to find Ava where I left her. Instead, she's back in bed, with a washcloth over her eyes.
"Jane?"
My heart clenches a little that she's stopped calling me Janie, even though I usually hate that name.
"I got your fountain Coke," I whisper. "Did you find the bottle of Advil I left by your head?"
"Yes, thank you."
Her hand waves around, presumably looking for the Coke. I walk over and put it into her hand.
"Here, I can help you sit up and take a few sips."
My other hand slips behind her back, helping her.
"Oh God, why? Why did I drink so much?" she mutters as the washcloth falls from her eyes.
She pries one eye open and looks at me. I'm giggling, because it feels like the mood is lighter and I can, but doing the best I can to hold it in so that she doesn't feel worse.
"Thank you. I'm so sorry, again."
"Shh."
She finishes her long sip and falls back into her pillows. I grab the washcloth and re-fold it, placing it gently over her eyes.
"I am so stupid."
"Well, I wouldn't agree with that, but maybe drinking yourself sick isn't the best plan. Do you want to talk about it?"
Ava groans again.
"No, but yes."
"Well, how about this, when you're ready to talk, I'm ready to listen."
Her hands move up and out again, and her fingers close around my wrist. "Thank you."
"You keep saying that." I laugh. "You can stop thanking me. I'm just doing what any good friend would do."
I mean, aside from the sleeping together naked part.
"It means a lot to me," Ava says.
"Do you want me to get you some food now?"
"No, I just ... can you lay back down with me?"
I nod. "Of course."
I crawl under the covers, but stay on my side of the bed, not wanting to intrude on her space. Then I chastise myself for mentally calling it my side.
"No, closer," she says.
"Are you okay? Not queasy anymore?"
Ava pulls me into her arms. "That's not going away anytime soon."
"I don't want to crush you. Squish the vomit out."
She laughs a little. "You're not going to do any such thing. But maybe we should order some food soon?"
"Yeah? Where do you want food from?"
"I can't think. Can you just order? I can pay you back, or you can grab my card from my wallet, it should be around here somewhere..."
"I got it," I say, opening my phone.
It's almost 1PM, so I decide to order some burgers and tots. And despite my earlier assessment, it looks like Ava's blown through her whole drink, which is good; she needs the hydration and caffeine.
When the food is ordered and on its way, I set my phone down on the nightstand. Ava's already got her arm open for me, and I curl against her body. I'm trying not to set my head right on her breasts, but that's where it lands and she doesn't seem to object. Before the other night we spent together, it had been so long since I'd fallen asleep with someone else.
"This feels nice," she says quietly. Her fingers are toying with my hair and it's such a soothing sensation.
I agree with a hum.
"You know, I don't even keep alcohol in the house anymore."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I went on some pretty heavy meds, after... and I knew I didn't want anything that might jeopardize that around. Then last night after therapy, I tried to get into a better frame of mind. I did all of my tried and true techniques to distract myself and stop the intrusive thoughts, but nothing worked, so I drove to the liquor store. I guess bad habits really do die hard."
My free arm moves across her abdomen and I squeeze her as much as I can from this angle.
"Was it a tough session?"
Her body shakes under me and I know she's laughing. "You could say that."
"I'm sorry."
"No more apologies today."
"Deal."
Silence wraps around us, and it takes a few breaths for her to speak again.
"Do you know what EMDR is?"
"Oh yeah," I say, not knowing how much information to give.
"Okay, so I'm doing EMDR around some of the heavier trauma, but it's like... exhausting. Down to my bones exhausting. And I feel like, as much as I do every week, it'll never be enough. As many therapy sessions as I have, there will still be so many ahead of me."
"I totally get that feeling. But I know from experience that it doesn't go on forever, even though it might feel like it. There is an other side."
"Promise?"
I move to look at her. There are tears streaming down and onto the pillow underneath her. I wipe them away gently.
"I promise."
"How do you know?"
I close my eyes and sigh. "I think that might be a topic for another time. There's a lot there, and I would rather help you right now."
"Okay."
We lay in silence until there's a knock at the door.
"Oh, thank God," Ava says. "Can we eat in bed?"
I laugh. "Of course we can."
We both tear into the food, and by the time it's gone, Ava is mostly back.
"It doesn't feel fair that my life is smashed, and they get zero penalty."
My eyes go wide. "Did they take the plea deals?"
"Not yet. But if they do."
"How would it make you feel if they never went to jail or anything?" I ask.
Ava laughs. "Now you sound like my shrink."
I shrug and encourage her to answer.
"I would feel really shitty. Like, more shitty than I did last night."
"What will you do differently to make sure you don't get down in the same dark spiral?"
"I don't know, Jane. What if that dark spiral is the new place I live?"
I almost laugh, but I know she's serious. "The place you live looks and feels nothing like that. You have a beautiful bakery. You make amazing things. Everyone around town loves your stuff."
"Sure, but sometimes it just feels so lonely."
"Well, you have me. And you have Cat. Have you considered grief counseling? You're not alone. Unfortunately, this happens to a lot of people. Maybe not on the scale you experienced, but you're not the only one suffering through this shitty situation."
She looks like she's considering the idea. "Yeah, maybe that would help. But would it just be a bunch of sad sacks in a circle talking about their depression?"
"Maybe. Would that help?"
"I dunno."
"How are you feeling now?"
We sit up and each pull the sheet up and over us. She looks at me and squints her eyes.
"Really?" she asks.
"Yeah, of course. Truly."
"I feel better, but I still can't see an end to the sadness."
"It's okay to be sad. It's okay to not see an end, but do you trust me?"
"I do."
"Okay, then lean on my faith for a bit that things will get better. And if they don't? We can handle that, too."
She smiles and nods, and I know our time is coming to a close. I've gotta get back to my place and get things ready for work, and she seems mostly okay. I'm scared to leave her, but the reality is that she's a grownup and I have to be able to trust her to take care of herself.
We move around the apartment, cleaning up from our lunch and puttering. Wasting time. Extending the minutes together, until finally we can't delay the inevitable any longer. "You're going to be safe?" I ask in the doorway.
"Yes. I promise."
"And you have things to do if you feel like you can't be safe, right?"
She nods. "I do."
"Hey, Ava?"
"Yeah?"
I look at her, look into her eyes and marvel at the way they sparkle still, after so much pain.
"Thank you for letting me be here for you."