Johnnie lay haphazardly on the old green sofa in her studio. She flicked a wet brush with her thumb while staring out the window. The day should be dreary, dark, brooding. But that was just the way she felt inside. No, the world outside was bright and sunny. Everyone having a grand old time.
She grimaced and tossed the brush. She crossed her bare feet along the top of the couch and placed her hands behind her head. Her eyes grew heavy, as they often did lately. She didn’t fight it, knowing it would lead to a land of laudanum, a numb, pleasant land of Elaine. Often times, she’d sit and stare for hours, in a half stupor, just thinking of her or staring at the paintings of her. She’d sold some, but the one where she had that look, the one that wanted Johnnie, she’d kept that one. And the one where she was touching her broken heart, she’d kept that one as well. She’d wanted to bring them home, but Gail wouldn’t allow it. In fact, Gail kept turning them to face the wall.
Johnnie laughed a little at her ridiculousness. Nothing could erase Elaine. Not now, not ever. But Gail was possessive, and for some reason she wanted Johnnie back. It was a mystery to Johnnie, but she just assumed she was flat broke and waiting for the next free ride to Costa Rica or someplace similar. She had a lover there. And they were volatile, on and off. At the moment they must be off. Johnnie wished she cared, but she just really didn’t give a damn.
She was still painting, but she had slowed dramatically. Her friend Jimmy was just grateful she still had enough for his show. Commission requests were still coming in, and Johnnie tried; most of them were easy. But her heart wasn’t in it, and her new friend Ian had noticed, offering to give her a good kick in the arse. She’d go to his house and they’d drink a few pints and paint. She was really enjoying her newfound love for abstract. At Ian’s she didn’t even pick up a brush. It was all palette knife, and it made her feel free, fierce, fiery. He often commented on the sound of her strokes and her breathing. He knew she was working shit out when she painted at his house.
He just laughed and encouraged her. Told her the only thing worse than a woman was the paint. It was an addiction, a desire, a fucking menace, and it would drive you mad whether you put it to canvas, wall, or nowhere at all. A woman could walk in and out of your life, but the paint, it would always be there, waiting for you to do something with it.
Johnnie eyed her phone as it vibrated. It was Jolene. She could always feel when Johnnie was off. And she’d been bugging her since Gail had been back. Jolene did not care for her by any sense of the word. She found her fake. And that was not a good thing at all when Jolene said it. No, she wanted Johnnie to go up north to her brother’s house to sit and sweat all these issues out. Johnnie had been putting her off, too depressed and lethargic to even consider it.
The doorbell chimed, and she didn’t bother to look over.
“Don’t get up. It’s only me,” Gail said, coming over to sit, placing Johnnie’s legs atop her.
“Don’t worry. I won’t.”
Gail rolled her eyes. “Why are you so depressing? God, you’re so negative it’s driving me crazy.”
Johnnie didn’t bother to look at her. “Then go.”
“I will.”
“Good.”
“I’m serious, Johnnie. You’re really a downer.”
Johnnie didn’t answer. She just stared at the wall. She could smell Gail’s lotion, and it stirred things in her whether she wanted them too or not.
“I’m sorry about Elaine or whoever, but she’s just not for you. She’d doesn’t love you like I do. No one does.” She took her hand and tried to sound sincere. But Johnnie was learning her moves, her technique. She said all the right things. She even seemed to mean them. But it was only skin deep. Inside, who knew what she was thinking? How to get what she wanted, how to get ahead, how to outplay the person…who knew? But it wasn’t love. It wasn’t caring. It wasn’t sincerity.
Yet Johnnie was putting up with it and playing along in a way, while feeling her out in return. What else did she have to do? Elaine didn’t want her, and as far as she was concerned, Elaine was the one. And when the one walks away, nothing else seems to matter. You go on, one foot in front of the other, but you’re not really awake. You’re a zombie with a mechanical heart, it beating whether you want it to or not. Besides, what if Gail was right? What if Elaine couldn’t really love her with her past and her issues? How badly would that hurt to fall for her to have something and then to have her jump ship because she didn’t have the capacity to love unconditionally? Or worse, what if they had something and it terrified Johnnie…leaving her to fear Elaine would wise up at any moment and walk away, turning her back on her? Like her own family had?
She grabbed her head. It was all too much. It was just easier not to care, to ignore if she could. But the thoughts and the images were a constant barrage, like a bad film stuck on the reel.
“What is it, baby? Your head hurt?”
“No.” She sat up and stroked Gail’s face. Gail moved a little as if uncomfortable. She looked into her eyes. “Tell me how you feel about me,” Johnnie said softly. She leaned against the couch and relaxed. If Gail loved her, she’d be able to tell.
But Gail looked away and laughed nervously. “What is this?”
“Come on, talk to me.”
“I tell you all the time.”
“But not like this. This is intimacy.” This was what she had with Elaine. Gail looked at her, eyes full of fear.
Johnnie raised her eyebrows, waiting. She stroked her face again, and Gail caught her hand.
“This is seriously freaking me out,” she said.
Johnnie didn’t move as Gail rose and went to the fridge and pretended to be thirsty. “Want something?”
“No.” She sighed. “Can you come back please?”
Gail opened the water and drank. “Babe, you know I love you. But that closeness crap makes me feel trapped or something.”
“You can’t sit here and look in my eyes?”
Gail laughed. “Can’t we just forget it?”
Johnnie felt the hair on her neck stand up like she did when she sensed a person with untruthful energy. Someone that wasn’t authentic. A predator. She sometimes felt it with Gail, but Gail always covered.
“Come here. I’ll help you wrap up these canvases for the show.”
She was always so helpful when Johnnie needed it. According to Gail, that was her showing love. Johnnie rose, defeated, and began wrapping the canvases she was going to display. When they got to Elaine’s, Johnnie stared, lost in her gaze.
“Please tell me you’re selling those or getting rid of them.”
“Neither,” Johnnie said. “But I am showing them.”
“You’re kidding?”
“No.” Johnnie wrapped them carefully. Gail huffed next to her and began throwing stuff around rather than placing it nicely back in place.
“I won’t have her in the loft,” Gail said.
Johnnie continued wrapping. “It’s not your loft.”
“Johnnie,” she said, hands on hips. “Don’t you care how I feel?”
Johnnie thought about it a moment. “No. I only care how I feel right now. I know that sounds selfish and unlike me, but it’s where I’m at.”
Gail stared at her, shocked. She dropped her hands in disbelief. “I don’t need this shit, Johnnie.”
“I don’t either. If you can’t handle it, you can go. I would understand.”
Gail remained still. Then she approached and held Johnnie’s hands. “We’ll do whatever you need.” She embraced her, but the hug was stiff. Johnnie could never melt into her form like she could Jolene or Eddie or anyone else who offered a loving hug.
They continued to wrap and pack up the canvases. Johnnie didn’t bother thinking about whether Gail meant her words or not. She knew she was only biding her time. Using Johnnie. But again, Johnnie just couldn’t find the energy to care. Maybe Gail was the only kind of person she deserved. Maybe a person like Elaine couldn’t love her. Maybe she just wasn’t good enough.
She was too sensitive and too anxious. She over thought and felt people. She was so different and she’d stuck out like a sore thumb in her family. Just as she did in society and in relationships like this.
Maybe Gail was what she was only ever going to get. She might as well accept it.