How to Save a Life

“Make me look sophisticated,” I say swallowing the ball of nerves stuck in my throat.

“I got you.”

And she does. She picked out a skinny suit in a dark crimson color with a neutral silk top to go underneath, black pumps I can barely walk in, and a long black maxi coat to go over it.

I nearly threw up when she rang up the one outfit. I could’ve bought a new pickup truck for my business with that kind of money.

The look on Jordan’s face when he came to fetch me at the apartment was worth every penny, however.

“You look stunning,” he tells me when we get out of the car. Jordan takes my hand while the driver holds the door open. Meanwhile he looks like his usual perfect self in a simple black suit, white dress shirt, and black tie.

“You look nice too,” I tell him.

Kissing my hand he pulls me toward the entrance. “Just nice? Can I get an extremely?”

“I can throw in a very for free?”

“I’ll take a very.”

The good time comes to a crashing halt when we run into Joan inside, turning the the fairy tale into a nightmare. I see her broad bleached smile literally die when she sees me.

“What is she doing here?” she says the moment we step up to greet her.

Nice.

“Don’t be rude. Riley’s my girlfriend. Why wouldn’t she be here?” Jordan squeezes my hand tighter.

While they discuss me, I pretend I’m not standing right there being insulted to my face. It is, however, the first time he’s called me his girlfriend to people we know, his mother no less––the real estate agent in Cape Cod was a stranger never to be seen again––so the night isn’t a complete soul crusher.

“The nanny? Really Jordan. What’s next a stripper? Or maybe a porn star?”

And just like that my sweet passionate lover disappears and the Grim Reaper is back. “Don’t call me again until you’re ready to apologize to both of us.”

He doesn’t give Joan a chance to respond. He drags me away. It doesn’t matter though. The night is ruined. Jordan doesn’t say another word for the rest of the night.

“Rie, I need to see you. Call me.”

It’s Tommy on my voicemail. He sounds slightly manic. This is not good. He’s capable of anything when he’s in this frantic state, operating on instinct and fear, on emotion he doesn’t know how to process. And it scares me.

Somewhat like Jordan. But where Jordan bottles it all up, Tommy cuts it loose.

T: need to c u. can u come to SI??

My gut tells me that if I don’t deal with him now, something bad is going to happen. I was planning on going home in a few days anyway, to give him Ivan’s last payment. Maybe this is for the best. Once Ivan is paid off I can worry about getting Tommy some help, maybe get him to go into a program.

I fire off a text to Jordan.

Me: Headed home. See you later.

Grim: Text me when you’re leaving to come back.

I’m about to step out the door when Kevin, the doorman, calls my cell.

“Hi Miss James, I have a Tom Marsden here to see you.”

“Uh, yeah…” Words fail me, trip me up. I’m surprised and worried. I don’t know how he found the address. I can’t remember ever mentioning where Jordan lives. “You can send him up, Kevin. Thank you.”

Lately he’s become so unpredictable that I don’t trust him anymore. Having him here, in Jordan’s house, makes me very uncomfortable.

“Hey, I was just coming to see you.”

He looks panicked when he steps off the elevator. He pushes past me, into the apartment. “Is he here? The guy?” he demands, glancing furtively around.

“What’s this about, T? You’re scaring me.” Because he is. He’s making me regret helping him…enabling him. He’s making me regret not having come clean about this mess with Jordan a lot sooner. About everything––Tommy, the money. Even what happened all those years ago.

“Is he here?”

“No. He works Tommy. You know work.”

Eyes cast down, he looks strikingly remorseful for a minute. Then, “We need to leave. We need to get outta here.”

What? “Leave? What the hell is going on?”

“Let’s leave. Me and you. Let’s start over in California. It’ll be awesome.”

He takes my wrist and I rip it out of his hand. “I’m not leaving. You’re acting crazy.”

“If you cared about me––”

“I have a mother who needs me!” The anger breaks loose. It’s been building for a while now and here it is. With it, my voice gets louder. “I have a business I’m trying to save. I’m not on my own like you, responsible to nothing and no one. Not even yourself!”

I have a man I love…and I haven’t even told him yet.

But I don’t say that part out loud. I keep that to myself. I don’t want to hurt him. Most of all, though, I don’t want him to hurt himself.