The Fight

He nearly knocked the two ladies-of-the-night over as he stumbled up and out of the stairwell that led to one of his favorite bars, appropriately named 12 Steps Down. That last Bluecoat and tonic probably was about three too many, especially considering his favorite bartender had been slinging drinks that night. Ah, Jean. Pretty little thing.

The girls didn’t mind much as he nearly barreled into them. After all, our drunk friend has been considered strikingly handsome during his stint on earth, with those smoky, Sicilian genetics at play. The two women giggled when he flashed them a smile, a bright cut of white out from his pitch-colored beard. “My apologies, ladies.” One of the women turned around to face him, her hand on her hip and all of her teeth shining electric-lilac in the neon and streetlamp. Our friend had no idea how she managed to stuff her enormous breasts into that teeny-tiny, studded bra, but he figured black magic had to be involved somehow. Also, he vaguely wondered how she managed to get her hair the exact same shade of orange as her skirt.

“Hey, Sugar, you wanna have a good time? Hey, Tina!” the Lady in Orange glanced at her friend, “You think he’s cute, right?”

“Yeaaaah….he’s handsome.”, Tina drawled out in between snapping and smacking her gum.

“Hear that? Me and Tina think you’re pretty cute. Maybe you wanna buy us some drinks…we can all get to know each other a little better.”

He lied smoothly, “While the offer is really tempting, ladies, I was supposed to be home to walk the dog an hour ago. Maybe some other time, yeah?”

“My name’s Pumpkin, on account I really like orange. What’s yours?”

“Ike”, he fibbed again, the words believable because they came out warm, round and as shapely as a vintage single-malt scotch. It was the first name to come to mind, falling back on his father’s nickname back when Dad was on the force all those years ago in Baltimore. Half-lied, he internally corrected himself. It was part of his name, too, after all.

“’Aight, Ike”, Pumpkin made the ‘I’ sounds super long and drawn-out, “I see you around here next time, you and I are gonna pick up where we left off! We’re going on a DATE!”, she almost hollered at him and he just couldn’t stop himself from chuckling.

“Alright, that’s a deal.”, he said, full knowing none of that was going to happen.

“Oh no, baby! That ain't no deal. Like I said, it’s a DATE!”, Pumpkin punctuated the last when she turned around on her heel, grabbed Tina’s arm and started making her way up the block - all with a little extra wiggle in her step, of course.

Ike sighed with relief as he watched the girls disappear before he took off at a trot in the opposite direction. Thankfully, he had had the foresight to know that tonight was not going to be a night to take the motorcycle out. That was okay, as he really liked walking this way home down some of his favorite streets in South Philadelphia. So much pretty brick, iron and more of the old architecture surrounded him, comforting him.

Now that he'd been drinking with the boys and had his humorous encounter with the escorts, Ike had nearly forgotten what made him feel so low earlier in the evening. His mind flicked back to the argument he had with Jo that very morning and about how it really affected him unlike it ever used to. Maybe because it was because they hadn't had a fight in forever? Maybe because these days, she was more of the glue that held the family together on Ike's side than he was. That, and they were just really good-natured and supportive to each other now, for a lack of better words. But some of the old fight and fire was starting to creep back in, making two old friends bristle at each other when either overstep their boundaries.

The two of them met when they were way too young: Jo was 20 and was going to art school in Baltimore, while Ike was only 18 years old and fresh back from a wild ride and some heartache in Sacramento. Some dumb stuff happened between them, and then more dumb stuff. They kept breaking up and getting back together. They’d split up, Jo would run back home to her swamp and alligators, her middle finger held in the general direction of Maryland the whole drive down. Ike would run amuck for a few weeks or months, be really committed to enjoying his freedom. Then out of the blue, he'd call Jo up after so many adult beverages and things would get complicated again. She’d try to pretend that he didn’t exist at all, while he just stayed as busy as he could, chasing as many skirts as possible. Like clockwork, during one of these estrangements, Ike called Jo up and convinced her to, “Invent someone to die, so I can fly you up here and we can go get married somewhere.” And that is exactly how that all went down, serious as a heart attack. No Las Vegas. No Atlantic City. Instead, they eloped in Virginia at the Fairfax County Courthouse. Ike and Jo were married (both of them shaking like Sherwin-Williams paint mixers), by an ancient justice of the peace for the nominal price of $60 plus tip. That poor man was so frail and wizened, Jo was afraid that even just a tiny breeze could have knocked him end over end over end over end...

Now, anyone who has been around the block a couple of times knows that marriage is no band-aid for one, single goddamn thing when it comes to relationships. Needless to say, all hell broke loose soon after these two got married. Ike's family left Maryland behind for the open deserts of Arizona, and the kids found themselves even more in opposition with each other than ever before. Ike didn’t know how to ask for the things he needed out of life, at least not in a very pleasant way. Jo probably didn’t know what she actually needed, or wanted, as even today that’s near impossible for her to peg down. Basically, she’s always wanted everything and really had never been that shy about how she’s gone after it.

It only took one last grandiose break-up roughly around the time of the Twin Towers falling on 9-11 and Ike and Jo didn’t speak for ten years. To think, it was Jonesy’s freak, bizarre death that got them and some of the old crew talking again. His accident was such a sad state of affairs, as he fell from an 11-story building in downtown Baltimore. This was years after most of their friends and family had already moved out of town. Foul play was ruled out, but eh, Jo remained suspicious even so many years later. Maybe she was right. She had been a mortician for years at this stage and had seen her fair share of gnarly things – If Jo thought something was out of place or “eerie”, everyone might want to take notice.

How the lines of communication opened up again between the two after so many years, was Lydia called Jo to tell her about Jonesy's accident. Twenty minutes later, Jo was sitting quietly in the upstairs office of the tavern in Virginia that she managed, just taking a minute to herself to try to absorb everything. She kept coming up with nothing but a handful of denial and shock and anger at herself for not having kept in better contact. Jo must have zoned out thinking about old times as she didn’t notice what popped up on the screen of her laptop. Right there in front of her was something she thought she’d never see again: A message from Ike. He wrote hesitantly and said that he only reached out to her to make sure she knew what happened to their dear friend and old roommate. Jo thanked him after moments of deliberating over what to say back. Then she mentioned that she’d may be drive up from Virginia for the services that Sunday. That made him pause for a long time before he wrote a few words about how he’d see her there…then he closed his eyes and hit ‘Send”, after which he chewed every one of his nails down to the quick. Old habits do die hard.

Once Jo arrived in Baltimore and found where most of the old crew had gathered, she offered her condolences to Jonesy’s best friend, Haley, and his girlfriend, whose name no one remembers anymore. Jo nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard noises behind her, and she quickly realized it was Ike coming through the apartment door. They both froze, eyed each other up and down warily before they stepped up and hugged each other quickly. After about an hour of catching up with some of the old group, Ike and Jo paired up very naturally and decided to get some “fresh Baltimore air”. What they actually did was go bar-hopping like old times and started filling each other in on the details of their “Decade of Incommunicado”. They spoke easily, they drank hard, they laughed harder. That right there was the beginning of a friendship completely forged from common interests and histories, which ultimately grew into a kind of trust they never actually gave each other when they were younger.

Radio silence for 10 years. When he thought about it now, Ike could not fathom not being able to speak to Jo for 10 years, especially when they couldn’t go without speaking numerous times a day at this stage. In this era, this chapter, the two of them were the very best of close and comfortable friends. They had lived somewhat parallel lives, too, over the years. Both had remarried – Jo, twice. They both had kids with other people. Ike had both a girl and a boy, while Jo only had her son, though she kept talking about maybe becoming a foster parent. Aw jeez, Ike thought, Jo and her crazy plans. He couldn’t blame her, though. Plus, both of them had that rare quality of being both pot-stirrers and charismatic enough to talk people into joining them in their antics. Maybe that came from sharing an early chunk of their lives together. Who knows? And Jo always did want a bunch of kids.

Ah, right. Back to the fight from earlier. Ike knew Jo just wanted to help him…it’s just that sometimes when she tried to step in, yes, she did fix things. But he wasn’t her responsibility anymore. Not really. Honestly, it kind of killed him a little bit when they talked lately, or heaven forbid, when they actually spent time with one another. If he didn’t know better, Ike would almost suspect that he had feelings outside of friendship for his ex-wife nearly twenty years after their divorce. That was definitely something he wasn’t willing to admit to himself or anyone – especially Jo. He’d thought often about chasing her off again, but he honestly didn’t have the heart to do it. Not when she was so close to his three younger sisters and was on speed-dial with his folks. Even his girlfriend of the last year or so hadn’t deterred Jo from keeping up her end of the friendship. Above all, Ike was coming to the realization that he liked having Jo around him when he could get her, whenever she could break free from her responsibilities down in the ‘deep swamp’ of Florida, as she called it. Or at the very least, for him to just feel her sense of humor on the other side of a text or hear her voice from the other side of a phone call. He loved it, really. He loved it that she messaged him nearly every funny though or idea that crossed her mind. He couldn’t help himself. And therein lay the problem.

Ike shook his head as if to clear it like an Etch-A-Sketch. He felt confused, frustrated suddenly, and those things combined to make him snarly, maybe a little salty all over again. He just needed time and space to think. He needed to just hide out and try to sort through all of what Jo actually represented to him before he lost his mind fixating on her. He finally had the kind of freedom he’d always wanted: A girlfriend who didn’t live with him or give him grief for anything, including Jo. He lived close enough to his son to take an active, daily part in his life - which had turned out to be even more important to Ike than he could ever imagine. His career was more secure than it had been ever, too. That could change in the blink of an eye as it had before, but it was good for now.

So, why all of the internal drama and dilemma? Ike was convinced it was just plain old chemistry and magnetism, and the two of them were like the North and South poles of some kid’s science fair project on magnets in that they would always be curiously drawn to one another.

Yeah, solitary confinement in his townhouse sounded wonderful right about now. Ike quickened his pace, putting each building and alley between himself and the bar. Each block he trudged over was another deeper level of his self-made labyrinth where he liked to hide. Ike's steps towards home brought him slogging through sooty puddles, each with a faint rainbow of motor oil glistening on its surface. Somewhere along his journey, it had started snowing again without his realizing it. Again. Freakin' snow.

A familiar whiff of wet newsprint and the buttery smell of a bakery close to his house crashed in on his senses as he made a quick right down his favorite dark alley, cutting blocks off of his journey. Why’d I ever move to Philly? Baltimore and New York weren’t city enough for me? Am I sick of this Northeastern city nonsense yet, or was the next stop going to be Boston? he thought. “Whatever it takes”, he grumbled aloud to the streetlights, the bent signs, the potholes, answering himself, “…as long as it keeps me moving. Also, screw Boston.”

Ike was just plain old restless most of his life. He constantly needed to be in motion, onto the next thing, always with a finger in every pot and more irons in the fire than he knew what to do with. There were special names for the conditions or syndromes he may or may not have suffered from – but truthfully, good old ADHD and clinical depression covered a lot of bases most days. Jo got that almost more than anyone did. They were made the same but different, if that makes any sense. Jo knew he was way more likely to suffer from incredibly dark and fragile moods than she was. They both rode pretty high in their manic stages, the two of them bringing the party wherever they went. Ike once told Jo she was so like those sharks she had always been terrified of: Never stopping, never blinking, always swimming, cutting through the dark water like a hot knife through butter. A thing of beauty, really, to watch her come into her own. She called what they had, “Super smart, really twitchy, kind of crazy, highly effective, and above all – cursed!”

Hands in pockets, head bent against the cold blasts of wind wet with the coming storm, Ike stumbled over the time-worn curb, stepping up onto the concrete of his own block of Pierce Street. A warmer burst of air suddenly made him raise his head, and the temperature change got his immediate attention. The snow slowed and was barely falling now. He could see the light cast from the lantern-like fixture at the front of his building was bouncing around in large globes of light, like mini-spotlights across the ancient stairs under it. Actual snowflakes began landing on him, sticking. Ike jerked the back of his jacket up over his head and picked up his pace. If he hadn’t been fighting with the cold and maybe not been so bogged down with his thoughts, then maybe he would have noticed her before.

Standing at the top of the stairs, almost nestled all cozy and dry in the alcove of his entryway, was a tall and familiar female form. Ike squinted up at her, a mixture of shock, nervousness and excitement played across every one of his nerve endings, all of which pretty much just came off as annoyance on his face without him knowing it. That left eye telltale twitch of his started firing off, as he took in how good his old friend looked. Hell, she looked magnificent. Jo's long, black hair swirled in the wind as she reached out with one hand to touch the scrolly, iron railing for balance, her other gloved hand visibly shaking a little as she waved a sort of hesitant greeting. She was wrapped in a red trench coat past her knees the color of cherries and Chinese New Year, her long legs ending in her trademark, black leather boots. The front door light played its game with the bright circles, swinging them over the walls while dancing and making patterns all over her. An entrancingly surreal effect overall.

Ike stopped once he was at the bottom of his stairs looking up at Jo in semi-disbelief, as she ran her hand down the railing and carefully picked her way down most of the steps to him. He didn’t dare blink for fear she’d disappear any second. Tendrils of warmth and that spicy, floral perfume of hers curled up around him, lifting his mood and giving him a feeling of anticipation. But for what? Hope? He knew he didn’t think he had it in him to fight her anymore. He wasn’t really sure what started this whole mess to begin with to be perfectly frank, but nothing really mattered anymore because she was here, standing right there in front of him: His ex, his best friend, and a torrential storm of other feelings he was trying to get a handle on desperately in that moment, all in one package.

“Heeeeeyy..", he croaked out, “What are YOU doing here?”

“I swear, I don’t know how you live through these godforsaken, Pennsylvanian winters year after year.” Her pirate’s grin flashed briefly across her lips, “Sorry to show up unannounced, but it is a Thursday night after all. I knew you’d be off... and I really didn’t like the way we left things this morning. I know that the agreement is to give a heads-up at least one day before… It’s just that we don’t fight anymore and that was a doozy. So, I booked the next flight up here without really thinking and here I am. I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to overstep my bounds with you, I just wanted to help…and you know when it comes to you, I just…” Jo’s words trailed off as Ike finally relented internally, dropped his scowl and his signature smile, with the matching smiling eyes, showed her the full force of his happiness to see her. He reached up to grasp her hand and came to meet her those last couple steps, leaving the dank, lonely night that is Philly to kick rocks at the base of his stairs, uninvited.

Jo’s height in her killer-heeled boots put her over him ever-so-slightly, but Ike didn’t mind. They just made her long legs that much longer. He hoped she couldn’t hear his thoughts, as they tumbled through his mind. She looks so good... Incredible, really. She has got to stop looking at me like that. Gawd, what the hell are we doing?

The two of them headed up to his doorstep, all the while Jo was tugging and rubbing the leather of Ike's jacket between her left thumb and forefinger like she used to, looking at him in that way that made him feel like he was such a badass 18-year old again...a feeling they really needed to figure out how to bottle and sell... The ice in Ike's veins started to thaw as soon as he reached the landing, and was quickly replaced by a warm burst of flame that seemed to shoot up his spine whenever he looked into her infamously mischievous eyes. It dawned on him how ridiculous it all was that he couldn’t just admit that he still loved her all these twenty-some-odd-years later. Yes, even after all of it. Maybe he just couldn’t deny it anymore. Damn it!

“What fight? We were merely disagreeing. I was busy telling you how I was determined to live my life, how I was trying to overcome a few pitfalls, and you were picking my battle plan apart. How very unlike you, by the way. What happened to your being my cheerleader? Let me guess, you want me to believe that you just flew up here because of that ‘fight’ we had earlier? It’s that, or you missed me. C'mon, admit it. Is it this handsome mug of mine or that man-smell that still drives you nuts?”, Ike asked, as he mock-hid behind his thick eyelashes, squinting, like he always did when he was in a playful mood. “You know, I almost went on a date with TWO girls I met tonight. You’re lucky I’m showing up now and your butt isn’t permanently frozen to my stoop. We could have split them, probably. I’m sure one of them would be into fooling around with another girl…”, his words trailed off as he watched Jo’s eyes flash then narrow as she started pulling out of his grasp. She tried to play it off that she was okay with his rather open lifestyle, and to her credit, Jo really had seen beyond all of that to the core of who he really was. As she put it, Ike was a “A total slut with the intentions of a saint.” And he'd be the first to tell you that Josephine was definitely no angel herself when it came to matters of the heart.

But honestly, Ike knew he was just ticking her off with his antics. “Shh, shhh...I’m just kidding! I’m kidding! Jo, I'm sorry... I’m just getting you back for being a know-it-all-brat earlier today. I don’t want or need any trouble from the likes of you, oh, Pink One.” The old pet name slipped out from between his teeth before he could stop it, and the blush that earned Jo her moniker showed itself and then deepened to every shade of beet imaginable.

Just then, Ike could smell a hint of caramel and the tanginess of bourbon, probably from the Maker’s Mark Jo drank both before and during her flights. He knew his old friend needed as much liquid courage as she could drink in order to endure air travel. Their fight obviously really upset her as much as it had him for her to feel like she needed to fly to him as soon as possible. Even if he was damned if he was going to let on that it effected him at all, the fact she braved being airborne in order to clear the air with him was rather impressive, really.

Jo giggled her extra-low giggle, a noise he found admittedly both sexy and endearing. “Correction, I AM your favorite kind of trouble, Bub. And I mean it. I had to see you to make sure we’re okay because we just don’t fight anymore. Hardly, anyway. Especially not like that. And what if I did miss that mug of yours, huh? Oh, almost forgot... I haven’t even really said hello properly yet.” She then leaned in closer to kiss Ike her usual greeting. This time, however, the kiss did not fall on his right cheek like it did when one of them picked the other up at the airport, or when they greeted each other at one of the family gatherings. No, this time it landed smack dab on his mouth, and two sets of lips that hadn’t touched in nearly two decades bumped into each other gently, nervously remembering, an unseen electric spark passing between them powerful enough to run all of Philadelphia for a few days. Ike’s eyebrows jumped up in surprise for a second when he realized it was Jo who had instinctively pulled him closer, as she had reached behind and rested her other hand in the small of his back. He pulled back slightly and glanced at her from behind his thick curtain of lashes just to make sure she was real. That this was really happening. Her eyes remained gently closed and trusting, even as their noses bumped into each other again. Before long, he was melting into the moment, into her, and wrapping an arm around her that he knew they’d have to chop off, because he just wasn’t going to let her go this time.

“Hi!”, Ike said as they broke apart slightly. “I’m happy to see you, too.” Jo looked down at her boots briefly, blushing even more furiously if that were even possible. The two stood there in the doorway under the swinging circles of light, holding onto each other still and almost swaying in sync. In that instant, it seemed that the weight of the entire “City of Brotherly Love” fell away to crumble at their feet. Bridges, lights, and even the wicked night air just seemed to disappear. Any misgivings from their shared past dissipated, the old struggles forgotten. He cleared his throat and turned to unlock the series of locks on his door, reluctantly breaking their connection. She grabbed his offered hand again when he was finished and pulled him suddenly, forcefully through his own entryway. Her face was flush, her lips a little bruised, her eyes bright and wild with laughter. Jo continued to guide Ike down the hall of the townhouse, the sight and feel of her making it almost hard for him to breathe. Goddammit, he liked it! He liked her all over again, even. Her and all her annoying little quirks that he missed so much. Who’d have thunk it?

There was no fighting Jo, Ike realized, as he listened to her tsk-tsk him for not hanging her paintings with proper lighting in his living room. When she started conversationally asking him how his old tech cronies were, he decided he just couldn’t fight this anymore, and moreover, he no longer wanted to. Jo dragged him deeper into his own house, pulling a beautiful Irish whiskey expertly from her bag and snagging a pair of rocks glasses off his bar as they passed it in the hall. His ex-wife kept giggling that growly-giggle of hers, mesmerizing him. It was then that Ike thought, What fight? No city, no army, no man could fight her this night. Not fight and hope to win, anyway... Especially not me.