Get in the Ring

[NOTE: there is arson in this story.]

"Happy birthday, motherfucker!" she screamed into the garage, pausing momentarily to toss a Zippo lighter over her shoulder. Out of spite, she had sown the floor with butane and sparklers because…why not.

Earlier in the evening, she took her time dressing, getting ready for the main event. Black tank top, leather jacket, black leather mini-skirt, thigh high stiletto heeled boots. Lipstick the color of blood, anger, vengeance; glossy like the irresistible candy apples in the county fair. Eyes lined with black kohl along the lash line and waterline of her eyes. Lashes black as night, thick like the legs of a butterfly, the blue of her eyes peering out of the lashes to stun a soul into speechlessness. She sprayed herself with her favorite Jo Malone—it made her feel sexy, and sexiness gave her courage. She pulled her waist-length hair into a high pony tail secured with a velvet covered elastic band. She could have been the inspiration for any one of Robert Palmer's music videos.

***

The night before, she had received a call from her friend Samara. "You didn't tell me you and Jason had split up."

"What?" Lexi asked.

"Well, I'm at the bar, and he's here with some blonde, and he's had his hand up her skirt in vag land for most of the night, and his tongue has been searching for her tonsils. Maybe she's searching for his tonsils. Why didn't you tell me you guys were splitsville?" Samara carried on.

"That piece of shit," Lexi answered. "He's supposed to be manning a booth at a gastroenterology conference. Apparently, his company has a new device, and Jason is supposed to be doing special demos for the doctors. The conference is supposed to be in Vegas. He's not supposed to be back until Monday night."

"Well, Lex, he's not in Vegas, and he's demonstrating what he can do with his hands up a woman's skirt. Unless maybe he's demoing his new device on her?"

"Has he seen you?" Lexi whispered into the phone, for no good reason, since she was alone in her apartment.

Samara whispered, "No. I'm going to take a pic, send it to you, and then I'm going to leave before he spots me."

"Sounds like a plan," Lexi said and rang off.

In the photo, it looked like Jason was trying to turn the woman into a puppet based on how much of his hand had been stuffed up her or her skirt. 'Piece of shit. Mother fucker,' her mind simmering and ratcheting its way to a full boil. Lexi decided to give Jason a call. He answered on the second ring.

"Babe, hi!" he spoke into the phone at top volume.

"How's the conference? Are the doctors loving the new device?" Lexi asked, sounding excited about his work and hopeful that the photo she had just received had been a mistake or Jason's doppelganger. "It's so loud there," she threw in for good measure.

"Hold on. Let me see if I can find one of the breakout rooms where it's quieter," Jason boomed into the phone. There was silence during the time Jason muted the phone to find a 'breakout room.' When he came back on the line, he said, "Ah, that's better. I can hear myself think."

"Are you in a bathroom? Bathrooms always seem to echo," Lexi said.

"Ha. You're smart. The breakout rooms near me are being used. The only place quiet enough to talk was the bathroom," he said. Did she hear nerves on his end of the call?

"Tell me about the conference. Do the doctors like the new device? I'm dying to get the scoop," Lexi said, ever the cheerleader for her man.

"I'm so glad you asked," he said, a light laugh punctuating the end of his remark.

"The doctors love it. They want me to go to a smaller meeting right after the conference for a few days. If I go, I wouldn't be back until the end of the week. What do you think? Should I do it?" he asked. She knew he was only pretending he wanted her opinion. He didn't. He'd already decided but taken the tack that maybe it would be nice for her to think the ball was in her court.

"Jason, I totally support you, and I want the best for your career. If you think going to this other meeting is going to be a boost for you professionally, then you have to do it. I'm just sad we won't be together for your birthday. I made big plans. You would have loved my outfit," she threw in with a sigh Scarlett O'Hara would have envied.

"Oh?" he asked, and anyone within earshot of Jason and Lexi's conversation would have had piqued interest in Lexi's wardrobe plans for the following night.

"Mmm-hmm. Just my thigh-high stiletto boots and a smile," she said, and there was complete silence on the line until Jason began coughing, then clearing his throat.

"Babe, I can get a flight home and be with you by late afternoon. What do you think?" Again he tried to do the rhetorical thing, and she knew he didn't actually care what she thought. "Besides, I've been wanting to discuss something with you. I think it's time."

"Time?" she asked.

"Well, yeah," he answered, hope climbing his vocal cords, seeming to make its way to his mouth and into the airspace, bouncing against a satellite or two, then charting a direct hit to her cell phone, making a landing, at last, in her ear. She heard hope, definitely. She heard fear, too. She did not hear excitement.

"Time for what?" she asked, and she wanted to make it seem like she had no idea what he was talking about.

Before she could ask if their relationship were doomed, Jason said, "I think we should move in together. I think it's time we took our relationship to the next level. You move into my place. You rent, and it doesn't make sense. I own a house. Just move in with me. No more rent."

Lexi had not expected the conversation with Jason to take this unexpected turn. She figured he'd come up with a way to spend more time with the blonde. If he was that challenged to be monogamous, why on earth would he want her living with him? Was it a game? Did he want to see how long he could cheat on her without her catching on that hers wasn't the only vagina in town that he frequented?

She pictured herself the following day, waiting for him, dressed as she'd described. He'd come through the door, put his bags down, see her, tackle her, and she'd smell someone else's perfume on him. There would be no doubt the blonde would have pressed herself on him to kiss him goodbye.

And, come on. Her renting and his owning? She was an A-list actress who had chosen to live in Shit Town, USA after being on location for a movie the year before. Jason had sauntered up to her in the bar (where he was currently playing tongue tug-o-war with some blonde). If she were planning to stay in Shit Town permanently, she would have bought or built. She realized she didn't do either because she never completely trusted Jason. And now he had proven he couldn't be trusted.

"Oh, my gosh," Lexi answered on a low intake of air, taking a beat to regain her senses. "Yes. I'd love to move in with you."

He laughed so loud on his end of the call. In the bathroom sound bellowed and echoed. "I wish I were with you right this minute. Thursday seems too far away. You sure you don't want me to jump on a plane to be home tomorrow?" As if that were a real possibility. He was going to get on a plane and fly where? From here to here? Not a there to here, since he was clearly not in Vegas.

"I could come to you," Lexi answered. "I'm pulling up flights to Las Vegas. I could get a red-eye and be there in a couple hours." She would call his bluff.

"You'd do that?" he asked.

"Of course," she said in a serious tone. "Our relationship is a beautiful thing we've built together. I want to be with you to celebrate your birthday and this new chapter of our lives together."

"Lex, I don't deserve you. Don't spend the money. I'm tied up every day at the conference, and then I'm entertaining groups of doctors every night. I can't have a significant other with me. This conference and the smaller meeting after aren't geared toward having someone outside the gastroenterology space there. And, honestly, with you there, it would be a distraction and pull the focus from the device. I'm sorry."

"Oh," Lexi answered. Just the one word conveyed her hurt and sadness to Jason. But there was more behind the single-syllabled utterance. It marked the end of their relationship. He was choosing to be with the blonde until Thursday. "Well, I guess I'll see you Thursday." She paused. "Darn! I looked at my work calendar, and I have to be in New York Wednesday through Friday. They wanted me tomorrow, but I declined because of my birthday plans for you. I guess I'll call someone at the production company tonight and tell them I'll be there tomorrow as requested."

"I'm sorry, honey," he said with the barest notes of contrition in his answer.

'No you aren't, you mother fucker,' she thought. She remained silent, tears making tracks down her cheeks. She had trusted him with her heart. "I have to go," she said quietly, her voice breaking. "I need to pack."

"Hey, hey, hey," he said. "Don't be sad. We have the rest of our lives."

"I'll have to let Steve and Kate know I'm available for dinner tomorrow night," she answered, purposely name-dropping the Capshaw-Spielbergs into the response.

"I'm jealous," he said.

This was the answer that stopped her tears. If he were committed to her, he would have either been home the next day, or flown to New York. He would have sold his grandmother to have dinner with Steve and Kate. "Yeah, me too," she sighed. She didn't say goodbye, and she didn't wait for him to respond. She simply ended the call.

She mulled over what to do. She needed a plan and a list, and she would need Samara's help. She made a list on the back of a Walgreen's receipt, writing non-stop, and finally, as she neared the end of the list, there was a knock on her door. "Lexi? You home?"

Samara, a friend she'd made in Shit Town. Samara was her next door neighbor. "Come on in. Door's open."

Samara had a jug of Carlo Rossi wine and a bag of frozen fruit. She set them down on the kitchen counter. "Where's your big pitcher? It's sangria time."

Lexi cocked an eyebrow. "What," Samara said, "fruit makes it sangria. Do not split hairs."

"Do you know anybody who could go to the bar, maybe a couple people or something? I need some photos, and I need to know it's definitely Jason. I need to know where he's staying and who the blonde is." After a pause, she said, "I'd love to know how long this has been going on."

Within an hour, Lexi and Samara were looking at photographs that confirmed the man with the blonde was, indeed, Jason. They also confirmed the blonde was a woman name Katherine, but she went by Kiki. She worked at Walgreen's as a cashier.

Apparently, Walgreen's was going to be a short stint while she figured out who she 'was.' At 21, who knew who anyone 'was?' Lexi had been modeling since she was 15, moved into commercials when she was 17, and was at long last cast in her first movie at 18. At 24, she worked consistently, and maintained a solid relationship with her family. Jason was the first man she had ever brought home. Fat lot of good that had been.

***

Kiki had wide green eyes and a childlike way about her. Jason wanted to rescue her. Her white-blonde hair, cut in an uneven bob, hung just below her chin. Her lips were naturally bee-stung and pillowy. She was stunning. Her beauty didn't reach out and grab him, but it gave him pause. Enough pause to cause him to want to risk things with Lexi. He'd never been a cheater. Not ever. He had never been that guy. Lying required so much energy, and there was always so much to remember. What was he telling Lexi? What was he telling Kiki? He knew he wanted to be with Lexi forever, but Kiki was this itch he had to scratch. Where Lexi could operate her life independently, or with the people she employed to take care of odds and ends, bits and bobs, Kiki had nothing and no one, and needed Jason in a different way than Lexi.

Lexi needed Jason for himself and for his wit, humor, presence, and especially his love. Kiki was an anchor pulling him down, who needed Jason for all the things on Lexi's list, but she needed him for sustenance. She needed him for getting through the slog of every day. Jason was cognizant of all this when he brushed Lexi off for his birthday.

He knew Lexi was hurt and disappointed, but when he delivered his decision, he pictured the look on Kiki's face, her exuberant hope. He knew he had to end it with Kiki, but he needed just a few more days of the acrobatic sex with Kiki. This girl was a pretzel, and, well, wow. She was only 21, and he knew when he broke things off, he'd probably wreck her life, but at 21…she'd get over him. And the thing was, he knew he was risking everything with Lexi for sex. For sex with a good time with a girl who could break his entire world.

Jason should never have gone to Walgreen's to pick up the card for Lexi's birthday three months ago. Had he not run in right before closing, had he stopped in the morning or earlier that afternoon, he would not have seen the forlorn-looking girl behind the cash register. He did a double-take when he heard the bird-like soft chirp that escaped her lips, "Welcome in."

He picked up the birthday card, all hearts and flowers, snakes, and snails, and puppy dog's tails, sugar and spice, and everything nice. The cashier took notice. "Cute card," she said. "Would you like a bag?"

Jason, wrapped up in watching her lips move, noticed a slight chip on her front top right tooth. How cute. He looked into her eyes, afflicted and arrested by the paleness of her irises, and she repeated, "Would you like a bag?"

"Oh, yes, please," he answered unsteadily, his gaze meeting hers. "Looks like I'm the last customer of the night, huh?" He knew he sounded lame, and he was hoping the girl would shut him down.

"You are," she said, not tearing her laser focus from him while putting the card in the bag. "I'm out of here 15-20 minutes after we close. You want to go to the Mexican place down the street? I'm so hungry. I didn't bring anything for my dinner break."

"Sure," he replied, knowing his answer could possibly be the end of everything with Lexi if he didn't orchestrate every move he made with great care. It was an iron pyrite-paved road straight to hell, and he took the walk anyway.

***

The next night, when Lexi was ready for the evening, she sent Jason a text telling him she had taken Samara with her to New York and their dinner plans had changed. They were going clubbing. Just to rub salt into the wound, Lexi sent Jason the photo of herself in her 'take-no-prisoners' attire. She turned off her phone. It was the last text she would ever send Jason.

She wanted Samara to have plausible deniability and pulled her into herself as tightly as she could. "I won't be coming back. I'm going to send someone to pack all my shit. Take anything you want. I'm expecting you in LA or New York very soon. My treat. I've known a lot of people in 24 years, and you're one of the best."

Samara hugged Lexi back. "Let's go to Vegas, to The Sphere. Then let's get a convertible and drive to LA and go to some party lousy with celebrities and I'll post it on my social media. Jason will totally see it."

"You're devious, and I love it. Love you, girl. See you on the flip side."

Lexi closed her apartment door, locked it, hitched her backpack onto her shoulder, and pressed the key into Samara's outstretched hand. "Seriously, take whatever you want. Let my people know what needs to be packed. Amvets can pick up the rest, and Goodwill will be shitting themselves with whatever designer clothing leftovers there are."

Lexi made her way to her Mustang, and turned on her 'HATE & ANGER' playlist on Spotify. After baptizing Jason's garage by fire, she returned to the car, just in time to hear Axl Rose screaming at Bob Guccione, Jr, to "Antagonize me, motherfucker, get in the ring mother fucker and I'll kick your bitchy little ass, punk."

She drove up the road a little way, stopping momentarily to watch the lightshow in her rearview mirror. Just like Jason, the lightshow, too, was disappointing. She gunned the engine and decided she would drive 8 hours to her parents' house. They would be delighted to see her.