Before I start, let me warn you that this is a series and I am still not sure how long it will be or where it is going. The first chapter was inspired by the film The 355.
Twelve Days Ago
“I still can’t believe you got yourself a roommate you barely know,” Hannah laughed over a glass of wine. “Don’t get me wrong, I like you so far, Ira, but really, Salomé? You barely know her.”
“I am not offended,” Ira said with her thick Indian accent.
Her lips were usually painted a vibrant red and her eyes lined to perfection; however, she had come home directly from work. She went straight to the shower and joined Fine Wine Friday in her rainbow pjs. Ira’s perfectly formed curls were coiling to life as they dried and the three women chatted.
“I hate living here alone, especially without Rafe. I thought it was time,” Salomé Reyes explained. She gestured widely to the brightly colored kitchen that was full of artifacts of Rafe’s Mexican heritage and Salomé’s Peruvian culture. It was a blend of their cultures as was the rest of their home. “I know it’s been over a year, but It’s hard to teach his passion to children all day and come home to a house without his music playing.”
Ira gave Salomé a sad look and a back pat while Hannah sipped her wine and hugged Salomé with one arm.
Even with Jonas having left her, Hannah’s situation couldn’t compare. Rafe, Salomé’s high school sweetheart and the love of her life, had passed away before Hannah and Salomé met. There was no way for Hannah to understand losing the man she’d been with for the last ten years, but she tried to put herself in Salomé’s shoes. With Hannah’s imagination, it wasn’t impossible, but it proved to be challenging.
So Hannah sat, giving her best friend a squeeze as she resisted every urge that had been ingrained in her from childhood. Hannah desperately wanted to tell Salomé what Mom would say, but she recognized the implications of telling her friend to ‘Just stop’ and bit her tongue.
Ira seemed to offer more comfort, but with a cool detached look on her face that said she wasn’t as empathetic as her body language would have you believe. Hannah surmised that Ira was equally as uncomfortable in this situation. She tried to let her mind wander so that she wouldn’t have to think about the sadness too much, but she found Dad’s words resonating in her head.
‘You can sit here and keep crying,’ he used to say when one of his kids was upset. ‘Or you can stop crying and keep having fun with us.’
Choices, that’s what Dad taught them. Life was full of them and crying was a useless one.
The memories of him sitting on the player bench next to her at the baseball field that was walking distance from the house she had grown up in were bringing tears to her eyes.
You can sit here and keep crying or you can stop crying and keep having fun with us, he used to tell them when one of his children had been injured.
She fought them with a swig of wine, choosing to wait for a more appropriate time. Like when she was alone and would bother no one. Right now was about Salomé, not Hannah, and she didn’t want to annoy her best friend and a woman she barely knew.
Salomé’s quiet tears turned to sniffles that grew like dandelions in the summer to body-wrenching sobs. Ira rubbed her back. Hannah held her protectively. None of them said a word.
Eventually, some of her sobs returned to sniffles. When the sniffles had nearly stopped, Salomé took a piece of salami and a cracker from the charcuterie tray on the kitchen island and shoved it in her mouth. Hannah followed suit while Ira finished off her glass of wine and poured another.
“You staying here tonight?” Ira said, looking at Hannah.
Hannah was startled by the memories she had retreated into. “Uh, I think so,” she said.
Hannah picked up the bottle she had been drinking to judge how much she had consumed before making a decision. She was trying to process the volume left in the bottle when Salomé interrupted Hannah’s thoughts, which whirred around like a laptop fan trying to keep up with too many tabs.
“The couch is all ready for you,” Salomé said. “I’d like you to stay. If you don’t mind.”
“That’s fine,” Hannah said, decisively. Ira made a face into her glass of wine. “You don’t mind my sleeping on the couch, do you, Ira? I can sleep on the floor somewhere else if you don’t want me out here.”
“Don’t do that. I’m usually up late, but I will keep to my room.”
“I’m up pretty late too. I don’t sleep much since… Well, I just don’t sleep much, so if you need to stay out here, I totally understand.” Hannah knew that sometimes the only place Salomé’s Wi-Fi worked was in the living room and kitchen areas. That was the price of living out and away from the city. That was also part of what Hannah had liked about this place when Fine Wine Fridays started. She liked the space it gave her from her problems.
“We’re all used to working early, so when I’m done with this glass, I’m off to bed because god-knows I’ll be waking up at five am whether or not I like it,” Salomé said. “You two can keep your crazy sleepless nights and ridiculous schedules. I’ll enjoy my sleep.”
“I wish I could stop getting up at six when I barely get to bed before two or three, but I guess the body wants what the body wants,” Hannah laughed. She felt a little too cheery after the last glass of wine.
They chatted about nothing in particular as Hannah finished off the rest of the wine bottle she had started then Salomé excused herself. Since none of them had to work tomorrow, even Salomé stayed up a little later than usual to chat. But she was a creature of habit, as many are, and her habits dictated that it was time for bed so her body could wake up before the sun.
Once Salomé was gone and the rush of water in the master shower filled the silence that had come over the women sitting at the colorful island in the kitchen.
“She said you get up early for work too, do you work at the school?” Hannah asked.
Ira flipped her wavy brown hair over her tan shoulders, closed her big brown eyes, and took a deep breath as though Hannah had hit a nerve.
“I don’t.”
“Oh, okay.” Hannah shrugged. “What did you do before you moved?”
Ira chuckled and took a big swig of her wine straight from the bottle.
“That bad, huh?” Hannah said.
“You could say that. I used to dance. But that was a long time ago.”
“I did jazz, tap, modern, and ballet through high school. I loved dancing. I stopped to go to college. I wanted to teach. I love the kids, but those parents make me regret it sometimes.”
“Smarter to teach. I’ve done a few kinds of dance, but I've mostly been in Bollywood films.” She listed a few films she’d been in. Hannah tried to make a mental note of the titles, but Ira spoke so fast and the wine was making things fuzzy.
“What brought you to America?”
“I can’t talk about that.”
“Oh. Did you sign an NDA? Is that what you call it in India?”
Ira chuckled. “You have a lot of questions,” she said, suspiciously. “What is an ‘NDA’?”
“It stands for ‘Non-Disclosure Agreement’ and it basically means that you witnessed or saw something and you’re not allowed to tell people about it. Is that why you can’t tell me?”
“Yes.”
“I wish my life was exciting enough to sign an NDA.”
Ira’s eyes narrowed in Hannah’s direction. Ira seemed to be trying to intimidate her. Hannah was not one to be easily intimidated, so she held eye contact with Ira for a long time.
“Salomé said your father passed away recently. How are you handling it?” Ira finally said, breaking the silence.
“Wow. I don’t think I know you that well,” Hannah joked.
Hannah was tired of talking about all of it because it was constantly in her brain. Jonas leaving her. Dad dying. The family that was left barely speaking to her. Her loneliness.
“He died under mysterious circumstances, correct?” Ira said.
“Uh,” Hannah said, caught off-guard by the question because it was out of the blue and far from the truth. “No. He had a heart attack after surgery. Why?”
Ira shrugged and it was Hannah’s turn to take a big swig from the bottle, which, much to her chagrin, was empty but for a droplet or two. Hannah glared at her empty bottle and put it back on the brightly-colored tile counter.
“He was very young, correct?” Ira asked.
“I’m pretty tired. I think I’m gonna shower before I head to bed. Do you mind putting this away?” Hannah pointed to the charcuterie tray. “I’d really appreciate that.”
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