(Editor’s Note: I can’t freaking believe I have never posted this here. This is one of my personal favs I have ever wrote. Enjoy-J)
“Dude, it’s not that you can’t move on with me. It’s that, well, you’re unsurvivable.”
Teddy shot me a glance, and took another hit from his bong. He coughed out his argument, waved away a cloud of complaint, and with his head against the couch nodded an agreement. He shrugged and smiled, his eyelids dripping as he said “Nah dude, I get it. No job, all that. Rent is real shit. But promise me man-promise me you’re gonna keep in touch?”
“Dude, you know I’m going to. You’ve been the best roommate I could have asked for. Seriously.” I said. It was a lie, but judging by the fact he was still smiling, it didn’t matter. I coughed into my fist, and said “So. You’re graduating finally, right?”
Teddy let out something between a cough and a laugh, and took another hit. His eyes were glazed red as cherries, and he shrugged.
“I dunno man. Maybe?”
I tilted my head and looked at him, and after seeing his slumped over posture, his eyes, the sweat breaking out on his head and the smell of pine needles invading my nose, I realized it was hopeless to keep going.
That had been what college was like with Teddy. One very long ongoing series of hopeless moments. I’d held him when he’d drunkenly tried to kill himself. The first time, at least. Then there were the times I’d have to come pick him up, half out of his mind across the city. I swallowed and gave him a nod, and rose. I took my laptop from our coffee table-one that had been burnt with bong hits and lighters-and slung it into a bag on the couch. I put the bag on my shoulder, and started to walk towards the front door.
“You going out dude?” said Teddy, his voice breaking.
“Yeah,” I sighed, “I sure am. Gonna go get coffee, maybe walk.”
“Alright then.”
I walked out the door, and made my way down the block. Night had just set on the city, and while there were a few cars out, things were quiet as I made my way five blocks east. Past the coffee shop, past Teddy, past everyone.
I didn’t have the heart to tell him I was moving out that night. I didn’t have the heart to take any of the furniture, most of which I had bought with my own money. Nor did I tell him I’d already found another apartment, and informed our landlord that I was moving on. It wasn’t breaking the lease thankfully, and I told him a bit about Teddy.
That responsibility was, finally, out of my hands the moment I’d given our previous landlord the key.
I rounded the block, and looked at the two-story colonial I’d signed for. The blue shutters looked like they were floating in front of the white siding. Without a single light on, the house didn’t just look empty. It looked completely devoid of ever having had habitants, much less ever had the phrase uttered around it. But I pushed my feet up the steps, and pulled my keys from my side. As I stuck my key in the lock, my phone buzzed.
I pulled it out, and saw a text from Teddy. Asking me to buy beer. Something he’d done dozens of times over the years, without once ever offering to pay.
I turned the lock, and stepped inside my new home.
@@@@@
I woke on the floor, sunlight piercing through the blinds. I was sweating, having not even shed my clothes from the night before. I got up, pulled my shirt off, and kicked my jeans away. Standing in my boxers, I got up and looked around the house.
It still empty. Not even the sound of a clock echoed throughout the house, and as I made my way around, exploring every room, it dawned on me that I’d either have to buy furniture, or go back and face Teddy.
Neither prospect seemed fantastic. But picking up a few lazy boys and more at Goodwill was preferable to having to explain, to a hung over stoner, why I was taking all of “his stuff”. His. That’s precisely what he’d call it if I came by.
To hell with that.
I took my laptop out of my bag, and booted it up. I posted an ad on Craig’s list, avoiding Facebook and Twitter for the time being. I checked my phone as well, and saw another Text message from Teddy wondering where I was. As I posted an ad looking for a roommate, I blocked his number, blocked his social media and deleted a few accounts. I did it without blinking, or pausing a moment to mull what exactly I was doing to the guy I’d shared an apartment with through college. I almost smiled as I realized that between graduation and coming here last night, I’d almost completely cut the dead weight from my life.
I kept the ad simple and efficient, a number and a rate. I closed my laptop, and slipped into my clothes from the night before. Then it hit me that I’d need clothes too. Fuck. I checked my charge card balances, and as they were all at zero, I decided I’d pick those up at Goodwill as well. For the time being, I was by myself-who gave a shit if I looked like a grandpa?
I slipped my musty shirt and pants back on. I grabbed my laptop-which aside from my phone, was all I now owned-and walked towards the door. As my hand gripped the handle, I turned one more time and looked through the empty house.
It was silent. Lifeless, dull, and desperately in need of a place to sit. But it was mine. Two stories of mine, if I so chose. I smiled and turned the handle, exiting out into the street.
I stopped and got a biscuit at McDonalds. After eating, I made my way to GoodWill, and managed to find a huge stack of clothes, an easy chair, a coffee table, a book shelf, and even a fridge (“Still Works, We Promise!” was written on a piece of paper taped to it) for under a few hundred bucks. I arranged to have a moving truck bring the stuff to my apartment later, and as I walked out the door, I realized it was Saturday and I had nothing to do. So I went to Legal Grounds-a sleepy little coffee shop up in town-and ordered something strong. I sat down with my steaming cup of coffee, booted up my laptop, and killed some time purging my social networks.
My phone vibrated on my thigh. I sighed, and pulled it out of my pocket. I figured it would be Teddy, sobering up for a moment and curious. But I didn’t recognize the number. I paused a moment, my thumb hovering over “ANSWER” before I pressed down, and brought the phone to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this James?” said a woman’s voice. It was pleasant enough, warm in it’s tone. I sat back in my seat.
“Yeah, who is this?”
“My name’s Jeanette. I was calling about the rental?”
“Oh, yeah. Uh, well outside of the rent, that’s pretty much it. I had a pretty terrible previous roommate, so as long as you don’t do drugs or sacrifice goats to satan, I’d say we’re fine.” I said. The woman chuckled.
“Oh, darn. There goes tonight’s fun.” she said, her voice filling my ears. She sounded so pleasant compared to Teddy’s husking morning cough.
“Heh, yeah. Is there anything you really need to know, though? Wanna meet somewhere? I’m at the coffee place on fifth and eighth right now.”
“Well, hell. You’re just a block away from me. Can you hold a minute there for me, James?”
“Sure, no problem,” I said. I eased myself into my chair, and took a drink from my cup.
“Perfect, see you in a bit! I’ll be the tall one. What are you wearing?”
I looked around the room, and down back at my laptop.
“I’m the dork with a computer. Like, the only one, haha.”
“Heh, okay. See you in fifteen?”
“Sure. See you.”
The line died, and I smiled. I stared at my phone a moment. I hadn’t expected to get a call so quick about the ad. Nor had I expected it to be a woman, someone who sounded fairly nice. I swallowed down more coffee, and looked myself over. I had stubble and a smelly shirt. I cursed and looked in my bag for emergency deodorant, and cursed again when I came up empty. I slumped back in my chair, and contemplated shoving my laptop in my bag-just disappearing before I looked like a creep. And just as I was about to, with my hand on the lid, I heard that same warm voice behind me.
“James?”
I turned in my seat, and immediately had to look up to avoid a face full of bust. She hadn’t been lying when she said she was tall-Jeanette, auburn hair tied in a neat bun, a small set of glasses on her nose and coffee in hand, smiled as she looked down at me. She was wearing a sleeveless black top, and a pair of jeans that had a few holes in them. I dared a glance at her curves, which were supple and full, before snapping my eyes back to hers.
She tilted her head, and looked at me, eyebrow raised. “Um, are you James? Do I have the wrong guy?”
I blinked, and realized I’d been staring at her. Great. I brought a quick smile to my lips, and shut my laptop.
“Yeah, that’s me. Jeanette, right?”
“Yep! Mind if I take a seat?” she said, already rounding the table.
“By all means. Uh, so what do you want to know?”
Jeanette asked a few questions about the house. Who smoked, who drank, and what. Our ages-which, as it turns out, she was ten years my senior. What I did for a job-and she didn’t even smirk when I said “freelance writer”. She mentioned she was a librarian and did side work as an editor. We spent a few moments arguing about cliches and tropes, and then she sat back in the booth and smiled.
“Alright, that settles it.” she said, spreading her arms.
“I mean, sure, you could use horror as a metaphor for dealing with trauma, but-” I said, but Jeanette just laughed, and held up a hand. She leaned over the table, and smiled.
“No, not that. I want to be your roommate.” she said.
“Oh, uh. Okay. It’s not like…weird, for you to be rooming with a dude?” I said, bringing my almost empty cup to my lips. I drained it, and swallowed my doubts and coffee together.
Jeanette laughed, and sat her head on her hand. “Well, is it weird for you? You seem more bothered by it than me.”
“I mean, I don’t have a problem, I just know for some women-”
“Let me stop you right there,” she said, holding up a hand, “I’m not some women. I’m my own woman. You’re not a creep, as far as I can tell. You need a roommate, and I want to live with someone that has a brain. So. I want to be your roommate. Is that weird for you? If it is, just tell me. I can keep looking, and so can you.”
I fought a lump in my throat, and shook my head.
“Nah, not at all. I just don’t want things to be awkward. Especially after my last roommate. I want…steady. Normal. Is that okay?”
Jeanette sat back in her seat, and gave a giggle. “So you want dull. Honey, I’m dull. I’m a few years and kittens away from being a crazy cat lady. I know where you’re coming from, though. So,” she said, taking a sip of her drink, “-do you want me to move in with you?”
I thought for a moment, and broke a smile.
“I’d love to have you, actually. I got some furniture coming by tomorrow. We uh, we can go there now, it’s just like, super empty and spooky.”
Jeanette just giggled, and said “That’s fine. Spooky can be fun,” she got up, and passed by me. As she turned, her profile in full view of the light from the windows, she said “So? We walking or what?”
I got up slowly, and slung my bag over the front of my pants. I wasn’t erect, but a single twitch could ruin the entire moment.
“Heck yeah, we’re walking.”
Jeanette smiled, and within that moment, I chide myself. Not for finding her attractive-a feat any guy would have to had fight. But rather in knowing and acknowledging it, and knowing how that would shape my life with her.
@@@@@
The furniture arrived without problem. The fridge’s promise held firm. I ran to the grocery store, and grabbed the basics-meat, cheese, eggs, bacon, oranges and beer. The fridge still looked empty, without even a single bottle of condiments on it’s door. But it would do for the time being. When I turned and looked at the living room, my worn furniture now place haphazardly around a coffee table, I sighed.
Jeanette had held her smile when I promised furniture would arrive. She said she didn’t have much of her own to bring, outside of a mattress and and an end table. Her clothes, of course. I’d laughed and said something about spartan living. She quoted 300 and kicked her foot out. My heart thudded thinking of that, then sank as I looked at the empty room.
The house didn’t look “comfortable”. It looked like it was being squatted in. While it was a welcome sight to the squalor of living with Teddy, I turned over idea after idea as to how I could make her want to stay.
She’ll stay in her room most of the time, you idiot. Stop that.
I inhaled deeply, and went back into the kitchen. I opened the fridge, and took an orange out. I cracked the peel with my teeth, and began to peel it. When I was done, I laid down in the recliner and sank deep into the plush. I pulled out my phone, and checked my socials before settling into a Youtube creepy pasta binge.
As I shifted in the seat, I felt something poke my skin. I turned and looked, and something was sticking up between the crevice of the arm and seat. I pulled it out-it was old photo. A dude in an old sailor uniform and a lady. I flipped the photo over, and in neat cursive script at the bottom was wrote Jack and Diane 1970. I turned the photo back over, and stared at the people. The man was trying to hold a serious expression, but as I looked closer, I saw his wife smiling wide, her hands at his sides, trying to tickle him. The picture made me smile-and then I realized the folks that had this chair before me had probably died. I rose and almost tossed it away, but instead stuck it in my laptop bag. It was a sweet moment between two people, and I couldn’t bring myself to throw it in the trash. I made a mental note to write it into a story at some point, and sat back down.
As I made it into my third Mr.CreepyPasta video, a car horn blared outside. I rose and crossed the room. I peered through the blinds, and saw Jeanette getting out of a large red chevy pick up. It was an older model, restored and looking bright in the evening glow. Jeanette turned, pushing her hair out of the way as she looked up. Seeing me at the window, she smiled and waved. I ran to the door, calmed myself, and opened it wide.
“Hey, I’m coming, hold on.” I said.
Jeanette put her hands on her hips, and raised an eyebrow. “What? Think I can’t get it myself?”
I stopped on the steps, and gave a nervous grin. “I mean, at least let me help you with the mattress, yeah?”
She laughed, and waved the comment away. “I was just giving you shit. I’d love some help. C’mon, you get one side of the mattress, I’ll get the other.”
We hauled Jeanette’s things in. She took one of the bedrooms on the second floor, and by the time we were done both of us had broken a sweat. I offered her a beer, and she took it. We went down to the den, and she flopped herself down onto the recliner. After taking a long drink from her beer-one I watched from the edge of my eye-she pulled the bottle away, and stretched. Her back arched, and she smiled. As her eyes went around the room, she gave me a puzzled look.
“Um, is this all your stuff? I didn’t even see a mattress in the other room.”
“Yeah, uh. About that.” I said. I told her about all about Teddy, and what a shitty roommate he had been. I assured her that I wasn’t just being an asshole, but she sat there the entire time and didn’t move. She took another drag from her bottle, and gave a nod when I had finished.
“Well, I’m sorry to hear that. Seems like a big expense to take just to not deal with an asshole. But I totally understand avoiding abusive boyfriends.”
“Whoa wait,” I said, sitting my own bottle on the coffee table. “It wasn’t anything like that. It was more like, well, starting over. A purge. Know what I mean? I just needed a clean break.”
Jeanette nodded, and drained her beer. She held up the bottle, and smiled. “Fetch me another?”
I smiled, and rose. I took the bottle from her, and brought her a fresh one. She thanked me and took another drink.
“Well, you gave your sob story. So I’m going to give mine. I lived with my folks up until about a year ago.”
“Oh, uh. Okay.” I said. I tried my best to sound polite, but Jeanette rolled her eyes and smirked.
“Go ahead, I’ve heard all the jokes. But it was cheap living. I’d finally had enough though, decided I needed something new. Like you. So I packed a few belongings on the truck, and I’ve been bouncing ever since. It’s been a wild ride, but I don’t regret it.” she said, and took another drink. As she pulled the bottle from her lips, she smiled and looked at me.
“And now I’m here. Not bad, eh?”
I broke a smile, and raised my glass.
“Not bad at all. To good room mate-ship, roomie-ship, something or other. You know what I mean.”
Jeanette laughed, and raised her glass. We both took a drink, and then she turned her head back to me.
“So, where are you going to sleep? Seriously. This arm chair is beat to hell. It’s comfy, but still.”
I shrugged, and said “There, probably. I almost fell asleep in it earlier.”
Jeanette sat up in her chair, and jerked her head towards the stairs. “Why not just bunk with me?”
I almost choked, and Jeanette laughed. “Oh, c’mon. Just don’t try to rape me, and it won’t be weird unless you make it weird. We’re adults, right?”
“I mean, uh-” I started, but Jeanette’s giggle broke me into a laugh as well.
“Hey, look. It’s fine. I get it. But still. The offer is there if you want it though. Okay?” she said, clasping her hands together.
“I-uh okay. Thank you. That’s very considerate.” I said, eyes focused on my bottle as I took another drink.
Jeanette rose, and stretched. “No problem. But for now, I gotta hit the hay. It’s an early day in the stacks tomorrow. Night-o, roomie-o” she said. She gave my shoulder a squeeze as she went by, and walked up the stairs. I turned my head, my eyes following the sway of her hips as she walked. I rose, back bent and sat in the arm chair. I took a deep breath, and tried to force the image of her jeans stretched over the supple curve of her ass from my mind.
Come on. Get your shit together, dude. You’re projecting. It’s sad, desperate and creepy.
Realizing that Jeanette had been there a single day and I was already screwing up, I pulled out my laptop and began to write.
It ended up being a romance story.
@@@@@@
Jeanette’s door was wide open the next morning. Her clothes were scattered along the floor. I spied the edge of her bra, and turned my head walking out. I went back down the stairs, and into the kitchen. I had pulled the egg carton out, and then it hit me. I didn’t have pots, pans, silverware, anything. I sighed, and for a moment I considered pulling out my phone and calling Teddy, but then I didn’t want to have to answer for being gone for two days.
So I did want any warm-blooded American male would do. I braved the Sunday crowds, and went to McDonalds. I walked through the drive in, and put on my best hung-over asshole impression so I’d not have to go inside. I got my order in less than a minute, and was walking back when the door to McD’s opened.
There he was. In the same shirt I’d seen him in last time. But he was airborne, and screaming incoherently at a rather beefy looking guy in a uniform.
“You cock suckers, it’s because I’m black, isn’t it?!?” Teddy screamed, turning on his heel. He huffed and puffed his chest, and let out more hot air ladened deep with expletives.
“Sir, first of all, you’re white,” said the linebacker cum fast food worker, “Secondly, the police are arriving. With dogs. Perhaps you should scatter?”
Teddy turned again, his meaty hands curled into fists. His brow was so furrowed it looked like a caterpillar had taken residence above his eyes. As he turned, muttering under his breath, I gripped his arm. He looked up at me ready to spit fire, but it died to embers. His face slackened, and he let out a nervous smile.
“Hey buddy, got one in the bag for me?”
“Teddy, what the fuck,” I said, my hand still around his arm as we began to walk away. “Where you trying to scam them again with that coupon bullshit?”
Teddy let out a laugh, and said “Hey man, the Chans provide. Sometimes. Anyways, where the hell have you been, huh?” he said as he jerked his arm away. “Dude, it’s been two days. No messages, not a fucking call? That ain’t like you man. I’ve been worried, bro.”
“No you haven’t.” I said, the words leaving my lips before I had time to think. Teddy stopped, and as I turned and looked at his face, I watched as his shoulders slacked and his eyes watered.
“The fuck was that? Dude. Hell yes, I’ve been worried. I’ve been a shitty friend sure-but dude. What the hell, seriously?”
I gripped my breakfast, and sighed. The two of us stood there a moment, and I spied a bench over my shoulder. I jerked my head towards it, and Teddy and I walked over. We sat down, and Teddy brought his hands together. I opened the bag, and handed him my biscuit. He stared at it a moment, but reached up and took it from my hands. After a bite or two, he swallowed and muttered out a thank you.
“Teddy.”
“James?”
“I’m sorry. I-fuck man, I’m sorry.”
Teddy finished the sandwich, and crumpled the paper in his hands. He wiped his mouth on the edge of his hoodie, and swallowed. He inhaled through his nose, and said “it’s okay man. I get it. I’m unsurvivable, right?”
“Dude,” I said, turning towards him, “it’s not like that, it’s-”
“No, man. It is. It totally is. I turned what you said over in my head a few times. And you’re right. I’m twenty-two, I got a worthless ass degree-” he stopped, and turned towards me with a huge smile.
“Which, by the way, I’m getting.”
“Wait, really?”
Teddy laughed, and slapped his knee. “Oh come on, you fucker. Don’t sound so surprised. I ain’t the valedictorian, but yeah. I passed. I’m officially smart enough to be an engineer. Ain’t that some shit?”
I smiled, and laughed. “Dude, that’s really fucking awesome. I’m proud of you man.”
“Thank you dude. But yeah, so I’ve been thinking,” he said, patting himself down. He pulled out a box of cigarettes, and put one to his lips. After he lit it and took a puff, he continued.
“Been thinking ‘bout what you said man. I think what I’m gonna do is move in with my folks for a few months. Get my shit together, dry out. You know mom won’t tolerate any of my shit.”
I sat back on the bench, and realized this was the first time in the two years I’d lived with him Teddy had ever mentioned a plan. As I sat there and tried to find the words, I leaned forward, and squeezed Teddy on the shoulder.
“Do it.”
Teddy nodded, and took another drag. Smoke curled out of his nose, and he smiled. “Sometimes man,” he said, ashing the cigarette, “Sometimes all you need is that person to push you. And you were cool, don’t get me wrong. But I need that tough love shit now. And that love shit man, that shit can conquer anything, you know?”
I laughed, and squeezed his shoulder one more time.
“Damn straight, man.”
Teddy put his cigarette out, and turned to me.
“So that’s my shit-what’s your excuse for being a stranger, eh?”
So I told him. I told him about the house, about having planned it for months. About Jeanette (he was sure to ask how hot she was), and my lack of furniture. When I was done, Teddy turned and hugged me. Taken aback, I held my arms up a moment before wrapping them around him. He patted my back, and pulled away.
“Good for you, brother. Two days out and you already nabbed a chick. Jesus dude, if that’s all it took, I’m gonna be drowning in pussy soon.”
He laughed. I laughed. He pulled out a cigarette, and offered me one. We both sat there taking drags and being a nuisance to society until we hit the filters.
“Shit man, two days. Life happens fucking quick, don’t it? I found out I’m graduating,” he said, his elbow nudging me, “you’re gonna be good as hitched, with like nine fucking kids-”
I laughed, and said “Oh hell no, dude. I barely know her. I mean, I know her, but like, outside of her not being a freak, that’s really it.”
“Yeah, but you think she’s hot. So there’s that.”
“Dude, stop.”
Teddy threw up his hands, and laughed. “I’m just saying, dude. Yo’, I’m probably leaving for mom and pops by the end of the week. You bought all that shit in the apartment-when you want it?”
I blinked, and looked at him. “There’s nothing you want? Seriously?”
Teddy laughed, and shook his head. “Nah bro. Fuck, my old Suburoo can barely haul my fat ass, much less furniture. I can’t even take my fucking bong with me. So take it to salvation army, get it, what the fuck ever. Just take it.”
I tried to contain my excitement, and told Teddy I’d be by later with Jeanette and the truck to grab my stuff. Teddy joked about being on his best behavior, and we hugged again. As Teddy started walking away, he looked at back at me and smiled.
“Yo’. You actually going to keep in touch? It’d be cool to talk to someone sane and every now and then.”
I smiled, and gave him a nod. “Yeah dude. I promise man.”
“Alright brother, alright.” said Teddy, shooting me a thumbs up and a smile as he started to walk away.
@@@@@@
Picking up my stuff happened without problem. Teddy had actually showered and shaved the stubble off his face, which made me all too aware of my own reeking smell. I’d told Jeanette on the way over about what happened, and she said she was glad Teddy and I had “made up”. She laughed about it, but it was with that same giggle she’d broke over the last few days that just made me feel warm.
Several hours later, our house finally looked like someone lived in it. Me in particular. Framed posters laid against the wall as Jeanette and I sat finishing off our beer and chatting. She was in a sweater, and her glasses were almost falling off her face. She was beautiful. Thinking of the phrase made me feel strange, and made my tongue swell against the roof of my mouth. People toss around the term “beautiful” to be polite about sexual attraction. Or they say “beautiful” like they’re looking at a sunset, something they eye for a moment and disregard. But Jeanette, with a blush in her cheeks and her hair down, she was beautiful in a lasting way that I’d not seen.
“So,” she said, “What have you been writing lately?”
The question made me swallow my beer too quick. I’d always talked and worked from behind a screen. It made things simple-that way, you never have to explain how the simple premise you’ve sweat over is so much more. I gave a chuckle, and shrugged.
“Oh, just some fiction,” I said, “Nothing serious.”
“What kind of fiction?” Jeanette asked, leaning forward. Her hands went to her hips, and she hauled her sweater over her head. She sat there in a black tank top, and tossed her sweater over the back of the recliner. I stared at the coffee table a moment, and cracked a small smile.
“It’s uh, kind of a soft romance. Light historical fiction. Heh, funny story,” I said, leaning down to unzip my laptop bag, “I found this in one of the chairs I got from Goodwill. I think it was the jump off point, but it’s hard to say.”
I reached in, and took out the photo I’d found. I leaned forward, and handed it to Jeanette. She took a sip from her beer, and looked at the photo, turning it over. Then she said “She looks older than him,” and leaned forward, handing me the photo. I opened my mouth to say something, but shrugged instead. I put the picture back in my bag, and zipped it close.
“Can I read it?” she said, hand poised over her knee and a smile on her face. I stared at her for a minute, my jaw quivering as I spoke.
“I, uh, I mean it’s not done yet, and it’s still the first draft, and-”
Jeanette let out a laugh, and sat her beer on the coffee table. “What is it with you guys? Why is it every writer can pen something from some Stephen King nightmare fuel to Lord of the Rings, but the moment somebody asks to read it, you guys piss yourselves? Seriously!”
I chuckled, and swallowed my pride. I felt my cheeks warming, and opened my bag. I pulled out my laptop, said “one sec,” and brought up the document. I handed the computer to Jeanette, and she eased back in her seat as she began to read. My hands began to twitch, and I knew I was shifting in my seat too much. So I got up and pretended to take a piss. When I came back, I saw Jeanette was skimming through the pages. She put the laptop on the table, and looked at me.
“It’s pretty good. Needs a bit of work, but it’s not bad, really. How long have you been working on it?”
“Since yesterday.” I said. As Jeanette blinked, alarm creeping into her face, it dawned on me I should have lied.
“Yesterday? You wrote fifty pages since yesterday?” she said. I shrugged and smiled.
“Well, I got inspired. When the muse hits, you gotta chase it right?”
Jeanette laughed, and said “Well, I suppose so. But fifty pages,” she drained her bottle, and put it on the table next to our other empties, “You like to move quick, don’t you?”
“Well, not all the time.” I said with a grin. It was yet another moment in which my tongue moved faster than my brain, but Jeanette just laughed, and rose up. She pressed a finger against my chest, and as she spoke, her words slurred just a tad.
“Here’s what we’re gonna do. We’re going to get this story done, with me as your editor,” she said, placing a hand on her cleavage, “And then we’re gonna put it on Amazon, and you’re going to come to the library and do a signing.”
I took a step back, and Jeanette staggered. I laughed, and crossed my arms in front of my chest.
“A signing of a digital book? From an unproven author?”
Jeanette gave me a drunken grin, and threw up her hand. “Hell, sign their ipads or something. It’s all in the presentation. We’ll make you out to be the next Nicholas Sparks-which, with my exceptional editing skills, you will be-and we’ll hold a signing. Trust me, the old crones in there would eat it up. They’re going to coo all over you.”
I rolled my eyes, and laughed. Then I thought for a moment, and stuck my hand out.
“Alright.” I said.
Jeanette looked at me, and blinked. Then she gripped my hand, and gave me a firm shake.
“So it’s a deal! One year from today, got it? We’re going to be fighting back wrinkles and cat hair in the stacks.”
We dropped our hands, and I went to the kitchen. We killed the last two beers, and Jeanette started up the stairs. She turned and offered her mattress to me again, but then realized I had a real bed now. Her shoulders slumped when she said as much, and her foot falls were extra heavy as she walked up the stairs. I cleaned up our empty bottles, and grabbed my laptop bag. As I walked up the stairs, I paused in front of her door. I didn’t hear a sound from inside. My hand rose to the door handle, but I pulled it away. I walked into my room and shut the door.
I sat down on my bed, and began to type furiously.
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The book was finished in a week.
Jeanette’s editing took a month. As we expanded upon and cut the work, we’d stay up later and later into the night. Sidetracking was a constant as we both laughed, drank beer, and talked about our jobs. Jeanette helped me set up a publishing platform, and we released the book for a dollar. The first week, we didn’t have any traction. Then one friday night, she and I stayed up until four a.m. We created social media accounts for HeartHouse Fiction, the name a spontaneous creation as we made our Twitter account.
Then, at a snail’s pace, we started gaining sales. Then one small press blog picked us up. Then another, and another, until we started getting emails, tweets and asks as to when the next story was coming out. Jeanette jumped up and down when we were approached by an arm of Harlequin press. She wrapped her arms around me, and kissed my cheek with a passion that took my breath away.
As she pulled back, she gripped my shoulders and gasped.
“Oh my god. You know what we have to do now, right? Like seriously?”
“Uh, get drunk and celebrate again?”
She rolled her eyes, and gave me a playful smack on the cheek. “No, you. We’ve got to do a signing at the library, remember?”
“Oh yeah, I almost forgot.” I said. Jeanette’s hands were still on my shoulders, and for once, I didn’t fight the warmth in my cheeks. She raised a finger and wagged it in my face.
“Naughty boy. But seriously, I’ll talk to my boss tomorrow. Diane shouldn’t have a problem with it, but I’ll play it up that you’re this amazing local author. She’ll love it.”
Jeanette pulled away from me, and looked at the laptop. She put her hands on her hips, and smiled as she turned back to me.
“You know, this is the longest I’ve ever stayed in one place. Really.”
I swallowed, and felt my lips tremble into a smile.
“Well, uh. This is the happiest I’ve been in a while,” I said, “So like. Thank you. For being awesome, and-”
Jeanette’s laughed, and waved the comment away. “Oh, stop it,” she said, throwing herself on my mattress. She spread her arms out on the bed, and tilted her head up as she said “Naturally by which I mean do keep going. At length, and with those wonderful descriptions you’re capable of.”
I let out a laugh, and sat on the edge of the bed. Jeanette pulled herself up, and wrapped her arms around me from behind. Her hugs weren’t uncommon-but the closeness with which she brought her cheeks to mine was. She radiated warmth, and as she nuzzled against the nape of my neck, I felt myself get very, very still.
“James?”
“Jeanette?”
She squeezed me tighter, and pressed her lips to my cheek. My fingers began to twitch, and I clasped my hands together so she’d not notice.
“Can I stay here with you tonight?”
I swallowed, and turned to her. Jeanette tilted her head, and pressed her lips to mine. She held them there for a long moment, and when she pulled away, I answered right away.
“Totally.”
Jeanette fell back against the mattress laughing, and I laid back with her. She rose, and stretched. She pulled her shirt over her head, and tossed it in the corner. Her bra, jeans and thong followed. She slipped nude under the covers, then rolled and turned her head towards me.
“Well? Aren’t you going to get ready for bed, too?”
“I, uh. Yeah, sure.” I said.
Jeanette laughed, and turned her head. I rose and stripped down, willing the twitching of my cock to go away. But as I pulled the blanket back, swallowing the lump in my throat as I saw her pale, freckled skin, I gave. I slipped in beside her, putting an arm around her waist as I pressed the both of us together. Jeanette wiggled her ass against me, and laughed as she turned her head.
“Well then. Somebody’s in a good mood.”
“Yeah, heh.” I said, my cock twitching against her skin. Jeanette rolled over, and lifted her hand to my face, pulling my lips to hers as we both caved. We kissed, we hugged, our hands exploring every curve, line and inch of each other.
She was late to work the next day, too.
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It’s been months since then. The signing was spectacular-over a hundred people showed up, some asking if physical copies were available. Jeanette’s boss, an old lady that looked as though she was about a hundred, smiled and gave me a hug. She said it was the most people she’d ever seen in one spot. When she asked what had inspired the story, I smiled and pulled out that photo of the sailor and his wife. I told her about how we’d found it.
The lady stared at the photo a moment, the paper trembling in her spotted hand. Then she lifted her hand to her mouth, and started to cry.
As it turns out, it was her and her husband. She hugged Jeanette and I, and told us all about her husband. A career military man. How the both of them, despite their differences and the distance they found themselves, had loved each other for sixty years. He had passed away a few years ago, and she gave his favorite recliner to goodwill. When I asked her to describe the chair, I realized it was one and the same.
We all went out to lunch together to celebrate, Jeanette and I listened as her boss told every laugh, tear and argument her and her husband had. As we finished, she thanked the both of us and looked up, the laugh lines on her face making her smile huge.
“You know, you two remind me of Jack and I. You really do.” said the elderly librarian. At that, Jeanette looked like she was going to melt into a pile of blush.
I kept up with Teddy through emails, Facebook messages, and the occasional phone call. He’d been sober for four months by the time my signing happened. He’d found a job, but most of all, he sounded clear. Focused. Actually excited to be waking up early in the morning to build bridges, design buildings, and much more.
He was right. Life happens quickly, and often in ways we don’t expect. But as Jeanette and I sat down one evening, her with tea and myself with black coffee, I turned to her and realized that in it’s pacing, we’ve still time. Time to appreciate, to love, and live. In every smile Jeanette gives, in every passionate kiss and morning quickie, the seconds slipped into hours. As we laid on my bed, holding one another nude and warm, we’d watch the morning sun rise, and for a moment it held there in the sky, unmoving and eternal just for us.
“Doubt thou that the stars are fire, Doubt thou the sun to move, Doubt the truth to be a liar, but never doubt that I love.”-William Shakespere
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Requested anonymously. Enjoy, and remember to tell people you love them today.