Page 32 of Cookout Carnage
“A toast to you. For not taking my silence for silence.” She leans forward and kisses me. Then we both sip. This is delicious. Maybe I don’t hate wine. I take another long pull, finish off the cup, and drop it to the floor. Then I crawl up the bed and take her cup from her. I scoot her down the bed, and it naturally lifts her shirt, exposing the exact thing I was looking for.
“Enough wine. It’s time to dine.”
13
JONATHAN
It’s so bright, like scary bright out. I roll over, and my head is killing me. It’s 9:07 a.m. Shit. I slept late. I never sleep this late. Shit. I sit up, and I’m incredibly thirsty. Then I see the discarded sparkling wine bottle and remember Jules. I grin but have no memory of falling asleep. Ending the sex drought and adrenaline must have sapped me. But that doesn’t explain the thirst or headache. I had one glass of wine, so it’s not a hangover. It can’t be. I try and stand up, and things are a little dizzy. Jesus. I don’t hear her. I sit on the edge of the bed and wait for my eyes to clear as I exhale. I scrub my face with my hands, then yawn. I’m starving. My voice croaks out, “Jules. Where you at?”
There’s no answer. I stand and open the bathroom door. She’s not there.
“Jules! Not supposed to wake up alone anymore. That’s the deal.” I pull on my discarded boxers and hunt for her.
I grin as I round the kitchen, smelling the coffee. I say, “Good morning, sunshine!” But the kitchen’s empty. Instead, there’s a mug, a bottle of Gatorade, and six deviled eggs sitting next to a note. She must have had to go to the diner. I quickly shove most of the eggs down my gullet and pour a cup of coffee. I pick up the note. The sound of ceramic smashing on tile reverberates through the house as I drop my mug.
Let’s go, big boy. I have ALL your clothes packed for the honeymoon. I left your tux. I’ll see you at the hitching post.
Tanya
I start spinning around in case she’s still in my house. WHAT THE FUCK IS SHE TALKING ABOUT? I mutter all the way through my house, “What the fuck is even happening?” I take the stairs two at a time. I scream Jules’ name. Her purse is on the side of the bed where she slept. I dump it, and her phone’s gone. I call her. While it rings, I discover Tanya took all my fucking clothes. That crazy insane bitch took all of my clothes. What the hell? What’s her end game here? And how the hell did she do this without me waking up? Shit. My head spins and reels as I try to figure out an explanation for any of this. I stare at the bottle of wine next to my bedside. There’s a white residue around the cup’s rim. Fuck me.
Holy shit. Maybe she did do something to those girls on the Prom Court. I always thought it was rumor but it’s possible she put Visine in their Diet Cokes. She must have roofied me. That’s the only explanation. I still don’t feel right, but I must find Jules.
“Jules. Call me back as soon as you get this. Where are you?”
I have no clothing. I have boxers on and nothing else. I fly around the room. My dresser is empty, as is my closet, except for the dreaded tux. My bed is very, very empty. Jules is just gone.
I call the diner. Was she hurt? Did she drug her too? Or did she cut on me? No. That’s not it.
“Please leave a message at the beep. CK’s will open two hours later than usual on account of the wedding in town. Please accept our apologies!” AHHH.
I dial Jules again. Then I dial her sister and no answer. She’s gone. This makes no sense after all the things we said to each other. I’ve got to find Jules. And now I have to go to the damn church, and try not to be seen in a tux at my own wedding. Tanya has to answer me and tell me what happened to Jules. She’s not that kind of crazy. I think. She’s a little unhinged and delusional, but not dangerous.
TRISTAN: Why did I get a text telling me the wedding is on? I’m almost at your town.
JONATHAN: I’ll explain later. I have to get to the church. Meet me there.
TRISTAN: I’m not dressed for a wedding.
JONATHAN: Good thing since THERE IS NO WEDDING.
TRISTAN: Stop shouting. I was kidding. I’ll meet you there. All is well?
JONATHAN: Not even a little bit. Gotta run. Meet me there!! Please.
Oh my God. My phone rings, and it’s my mother.
“Mom. I don’t have time for stuff right now. I have quite the issue.” I’m pacing in a circle.
“Well, we’re in a pickle too, mister. We’re terribly confused. There’s a car here to take us to the church for the wedding you insist is off, but your bride says is on.”
“It’s off! OFF. So off. She’s off. She stole my clothes. I have to go to the church. I can’t find Jules. She’s gone.”
“Do you think she left?”
“No. But I think Tanya might know where the hell she is.”
“Dear, do we get in the car? We’re not dressed for your wedding. And I certainly can’t show up looking like a hobo at my son’s wedding. I didn’t iron my dress because you said it was off.”
