After he had shown Pam her artwork corner he bought her a few drinks at the bar. It kind of surprised him that there was a bar in an art gallery but he guessed if there could be bars in airports it wasn’t long before there was one everywhere. He honestly didn’t mind that, especially if Pam kept kissing him out of the blue like this.
“You want something to drink?” he asked her and she nodded. “What do you want?”
Sex on the beach came to mind and Pam blushed. “Um just a white wine. What are you getting?”
“I’m more of a red wine person myself.” He smiled at her and turned towards the bar.
Red wines were always too bitter for her to handle. She licked her lips suddenly and she realized how bitter Jim actually tasted. She wondered why she never noticed it before.
He handed her the white wine glass and motioned her to sit at one of the tables. “Why do you like red wine?”
He shrugged. “The grapes are bitterer.” Plus red wine always reminded him of passion.
She smiled taking a sip of her wine. “Is bitterer a word?”
He stuck his tongue out at her. “Ok fine, why do you like white wine?”
Pam realized she didn’t know how to answer that. She honestly didn’t know why she liked white over the red. Maybe it was because that was all she ever had or because that was the wine she had chosen for the wedding. All the answers that popped up in her head didn’t seem to answer the question.
“I don’t know. I just never liked reds.” Reds always reminded her of lust and passion and it was ironic to her for Jim to love red wines over white.
“Well I never liked the whites, they’re too sweet.” He smiled. White reminded him too much of pure things. Like weddings and honesty. He never was really committed to be being honest with anything. Except with Pam, he was somehow always honest with her.
On each of their third glasses, Jim pushed the red towards her. “You’re always afraid of trying anything. Try this.” He had to cool down on drinking anyway, if he wanted to drive her home.
She downed the rest of her white wine and picked up his glass. When she held it up to her face she saw his lip prints on the rim of the glass. She decided she’d put her lips exactly where his had been, it’d be like sweet tasting bitter. She drank half his glass before giving it back to him and he smiled drinking what little she left.
“Was it good?” he asked.
She nodded even though her tongue was numb. She never really paid attention to what kind of wine she was drinking. The first thing she ever noticed was the color; whether it was white or red. Knowing the color always helped her determine if she would like it or not because besides color, red and white were very different.
White was a matter or love, but red was a matter of sex. She always had been afraid of tasting red wine and its bitterness. That is, until Jim had pushed his glass towards her.
~*~*~*~
“Well apparently someone can’t hold their liquor.” Jim commented as he held onto Pam’s arm as they left the gallery.
“We were drinking liquor too?” Pam asked leaning into him.
Jim just smiled and enjoyed her pushing herself closer on him. He led her to the car and leaned her against it. “Give me a minute to get me keys out ok?”
She was too busy giggling to answer and he unlocked the car and motioned her to get into the back.
“Lay down in the back ok? I’m taking you home.”
Pam shook her head. She didn’t want to go home. Home didn’t smell like he did. It smelled of Roy and things she was too afraid to face or end. No, she wouldn’t go home and when Jim wasn’t looking she stashed her keys in the pocket against the passenger seat. She then sat up suddenly and pulled on his dress shirt making him fall off balance and nearly on top of her in the backseat.
“Pam I need to drive the car and I can’t do that if I’m back here.”
Who said she wanted him to drive the car anyways? She interrupted his drone filled talking with her lips. She couldn’t get enough of him all of a sudden. She needed his bitterness to fill her blood. She was so tired of tasting sweet anymore.
After kissing her for what seemed like hours Jim finally managed to pull himself from her and place himself in the front seat. He smoothed out his shirt and ran a hand over his face and hair. He kind of wished Pam would let go of her inhibitions more often, at least she was honest in what she wanted.
~*~*~*~
He arrived at Pam’s apartment and tried waking her to ask where her keys were. “Pam, were at your apartment.”
He shook her arm and again she wouldn’t budge. He finally gave up on looking for them and drove to his house. It wasn’t like Roy was expecting her home anyway.
Once he pulled in his driveway he let the car run for a moment. It was colder than it had been recently and he just sat there enjoying the cars warmth. He looked in the review mirror and saw Pam shift uncomfortably and sit up half way. He wondered what would happen if he chose to ask her about her keys? Would she tell him where they were? Did he really want to here it? Would she lie and forget where she had put them or would he not ask at all and take her inside?
“You awake?” he asked.
She looked at him and her makeup was slightly off her eyes and on her cheeks. She nodded and turned to get out of the car. He got out and held her arm while he led her to the front of the house.
When they went inside Pam sat on his couch and he went to get her a blanket and a washcloth.
“Here let me…” She was swaying from side to side and he grabbed her chin gently. “Get this…”
He kneeled in front of her and tenderly wiped the warm washcloth across her face to remove the makeup caking her cheeks. It looked like bruises and he wondered if she knew that. Knew how easily he could take her bruises away.
She pushed her face against the cloth even though it felt like sandpaper. She felt her mouth asking him that but he just shook his head and smiled sweetly.
“Did you like the art show?” he asked her, but didn’t know why he bothered. She wouldn’t understand him or wouldn’t remember being asked.
“I’ve always liked art.” She said slurring a bit. “I’ve always liked a lot of things.”
He nodded finishing up with her face. “Why don’t we get you some water and a trash can.”
He disappeared into the kitchen for a moment and returned with a glass of water and a waste can basket. He sat next to her this time and watched as she took off her shoes and placed her shawl on top of it. “You haven’t even taken your coat off yet.”
He looked down and shrugged. “I can wait.”
“For everything?” She asked and he looked at her. She felt his eyes on her and she wondered if he wanted her to look up too. She was afraid if she looked up and stared into his eyes long enough she’d get lost. It was easy to get lost in Jim; she always had a hard time when she had to come back.
He nodded and stood. “For everything. Drink up and use that trash can if you start to feel sick.”
He then disappeared upstairs and she heard a door close. His bedroom door. She then wondered what it felt like to be on the other side when the door was shut. He came back down too quickly and it was then when she felt like the whole room was spinning. The last thing she saw was Jim’s concerned face as she felt a sharp pain in her stomach and she turned to empty the contents of it in the trash can. Jim was then next to her and had a hand on her back, stroking up and down, trying to make her feel comforted.
She wondered what could be so comforting about bile that wouldn’t leave her mouth, even when she wasn’t sick. The kind that reminded her of what she’s doing wrong and the mistakes she made.
He didn’t seem to notice it had been there the whole time. She sat back up and leaned against the couch. Her forehead was shining with sweat and the leather of the couch felt like ice against her back.
She didn’t remember when he had a cold cloth in his hands but suddenly he did and he was wiping her brow and face with it. Jim always had things she needed. And his hands were soft, always. Not wet and cold and grabbing. Just soft against her; in her hair, on her skin.
Jim shook his head as she began to fall asleep on the couch. He covered her with the blanket and pushed the trash can closer to her in case she woke up needing it. And he’d stay there, in case she woke up needing him.
He looked at her for a moment and wondered where her purse had gone. When he realized she had left it in the car he went out to get it. He searched through the back seat and found it shoved under the passenger seat. And as he rose to leave he saw something shiny at the bottom of the pocket on the back of the chair.
He threw her apartment keys on the table in front of the couch. He wanted her to know that he’d found them, wanted her to know how happy he’d been that she hid them from him. But she was plastered and he knew it, so she’d wake up and all of this would be an accident. The throwing up in the trash can, the hiding of the apartment keys, the wine drinking, and the kiss in the gallery. Everything. Because with Pam all there was were accidents. He was starting to figure that out and all he did was try to convince her that it was ok to do things on purpose. A lot of things mattered more when done on purpose.
~*~*~*~
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Author's Chapter Notes:
this chapter isn't so long and i'm really sorry about that. thanks for all the amazing comments.
once again sorry its short. i've been working on a national treasure story, which is in my journal if you want to check it out.
once again sorry its short. i've been working on a national treasure story, which is in my journal if you want to check it out.
