Monica looks at her bag and nods. “Yeah. Thank God it’s a short week!” She manages to get up and take the bag into the bedroom.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. We’re only working through Thursday and even that’s doubtful. Doug will probably send us all home after lunch.”
“How long are you off?”
“We don’t have to head back until January 9th.”
“That would be perfect.”
“For what?” She tosses her shirt towards a hamper in the corner and loses her train of thought when it dawns on her that Robin’s housekeeper came to clean while she was gone.
Clean sheets?
“Guess I’ll call you tomorrow.” She unzips the bag and starts throwing clothes to the corner.
“Okay,” he says with a sigh, “I’m really thankful I got to hold you this weekend.”
She stops unpacking. “So am I. It always feels like a dream though. Like I’m going to wake up tomorrow and realize this was all in my head.”
“If you want it to be real I’ll be there when you wake.”
Her stomach twists again and she closes her eyes envisioning him lying next to her in bed. A smile lifts her for a second, then she does a reality check. “You stay there and do your thing. Give me a little time to figure this out.”
“Alright. Whatever you need. Sleep well sweetie,” he says.
“You too. Good night.”
Monica ends the call and takes in the room now scattered with clothes that didn’t make it into the hamper. She starts a load of laundry hoping to wash away the smell of her disastrous night out. The whiskey stench reminds her of college.
Jack just makes me miss feeling young. Reminds me what it was like to feel free. Before Alex was back... before I fucked everything up...It’s not what I want though. I’m too old to deal with his shit.
She dumps her toiletry bag on the bathroom counter and pulls out her toothbrush. She stills and stares at herself in the mirror.
He fuckin’ drank. That’s on me. Oh Ri! I’m a shit! A complete shit! How do I...? I have to get her to forgive me...
She barely notices blood as she scrubs with mounting tears.
I should bleed more. I deserve pain, my kindest friend... What a mess.
She takes a breath and rinses out her sore gums. Leaning against the counter she takes a long look at herself. She stares deep into her own eyes and all the waves of blue that weave around her irises.
I wish I could figure myself out the way he does. Read those lines. How can someone else seem to know me better than I do?
By the time she’s under the chilly sheets of the platform bed memories of their lovemaking start to settle her anxiety. A familiar fire starts to tingle across her skin as she remembers his thick full lips on her skin. She imagines anchoring herself to his broad shoulders as he opens his aqua blues and fills her slowly.
I could’ve stayed. He could be here by morning. That’s crazy. None of this is going to help me. I’m in deep shit right now and he makes me turn crazy. Just go to sleep and think about it tomorrow.
Monica flips to her side to drain a couple tears on the pillow and drifts to sleep.
December 19th - Monday
“Hey, is this a good time?” Monica asks when Quinn picks up his phone. The afternoon traffic is flowing as she makes her way towards downtown in Los Angeles.
“Please don’t ever ask that again, you sound so formal.” Quinn’s tone is soft, but serious. “It’s always a good time to talk when it’s to you.”
Her dimples crease as she maneuvers into the fast lane. “Alright. How was your day? What did you do?”
“It was great, I started a new painting actually. Well, I started with a sketch last night when we got off the phone and kinda went most of the night.”
“You haven’t slept?”
“I took a nap this morning on the patio when the sun came out.” He scans the silhouette of rooftops razoring up and down the hills now softened by the encroaching fog in the distance.
“That sounds awesome. Nice life there buddy.”
“I’m not complaining, trust me.”
“I used to get kinda manic when I had an inspiration. I’d try to stay up for days just to get it out of me, as if it would disappear if I didn’t.”
“I know. There’s a false sense of urgency that gets my adrenaline going and I want to shut everything else out. Except you.”
“Well, I don’t want to be that exception. You have to have those times to keep your passion alive and addicting. If I get in the way of that, your work will suffer. I don’t need Rick calling me up for a chat.”
He laughs. “Rick’s not one to make fatherly house calls. I get what you’re saying, but the one thing I’ve noticed in successful artists who’ve managed long careers is they find a balance. They find their muse and the things that are most important, and they restrict those things as allowable distractions.”
“Distractions... are negative.”
“How can my muse be negative? You are one of the inspirations that’s fueled my steam. I would do anything to find a balance with you.”
“I wish I knew as clearly as you what would meet my balance requirements. I have no idea what I’m doing anymore. I’m living in a loft with someone else’s furniture, doing a job I like okay, but don’t love and I’ve failed at the defining commitment of my life.”
“Your life isn’t over. You can have other commitments, careers, passions. Maybe you’re just in a transition period.”
“Oh yeah? I suppose you’re the tour guide of transitions?”
“I know it very well, and I might have mastered the landing.”
“You have done that. I’ll learn from you. Teach me all you know. What’s the first key to a life transition?”
“Let go.”
“Well since everything I had was pried from my fingers, no problem.”
“No. I know you, you’re still holding the reins. You need to let go of control and just wake up and go. Just for a little while until you figure out what feels good.”
“Are we still talking life, or did you move on to dirty stuff.”
He laughs mischievously. “Sex is part of life so it’s included, but I was really talking about work and your creative ideas.”
“Okay. So tomorrow I’m letting go. I’ll report back to you on my first lesson and see what you think.”
“Very good. Hey, I have to do dinner with Rick and a couple of people at his house at 8:00.”
“Oh fun. Do you need to get things done before then? I can call you tomorrow.”
“No. I just wanted to let you know. I’ve got another hour at least and I need it filled with you.”
“Awe, how sweet.”
“It’s been a long time since I was able to talk to you every day. I missed it.”
“Me too.”
He taps his pencil in hesitation before asking, “Why didn’t you call when you moved out?”
“It just happened, and I wasn’t in shape to talk to anyone. I barely made it to work. Plus, I was afraid you wouldn’t talk to me. After I ruined your show and you disappeared so fast. And... I ran from you in Hawaii. I couldn’t just jump back to you. You were never a fallback plan. I told you that.”
“I know. I said some things that night-”
“Everything you said was true. I just wasn’t ready to give up.”
“You’re a fighter. I know I’ll have trouble winning arguments.”
“Yeah, I’m not big on letting someone else win.”
He laughs. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Do you think we have what it takes?”
“To argue? Definitely.”
“No. That’s not what I meant, although your answer isn’t real comforting. I meant us, as a couple. We started out so rocky, and things are always so physical...”
“First, I’m sure of it and you know that, so I assume you want to hear my reasons. Second, what’s wrong with the insatiable appetite I have for you?”
“Nothing’s wrong with it, but what happens when it fades? We started in a passion bubble. Do we really know the important things about one another?”
Quinn is quiet.
She’s second guessing us?
“I can’t imagine a day when I wouldn’t want to at least hold you or feel your soft skin. But if the day comes, I know every ounce of you is honest, you bring laughter that strains my abs, you’re strength makes me useless, and the talents you hide make me talk incessantly about you to anyone who’ll listen. If it fizzles, those are all the things that’ll rekindle my passion. So I’m good.”
Wow.
She sits and lets his words sink in. “I’m sorry to doubt this...”
“Don’t be. None of this was fair for you. I tried to be happy for the two of you. He’s so easy to like.”
“Easy to hate too, but he was my partner in crime. We made goals and tried to navigate towards them. It’s just so painful to divide every part of the life we built. Harry was right when he said, ‘Put your names in your books right now.’ You really do end up fighting over stupid shit you didn’t want in the first place.”
“When Harry Met Sally?”
“Of course. It fits every situation.”
“I think of that night with you all the time. It was one of my two favorite evenings.”
“What was the other?”
“The meteor shower.”
“You know what they both had in common?”
He smiles. “No sex. I know and maybe that’s part of it. I got to just hang out with you with no pressure or fear of being caught.”
“I still had fear. That’s why we painted our toes and I shoved you out the door.”
“I’m not ashamed that I painted my nails.”
She lets out a deep rolling laugh. “It was very unexpected.”
“You know, those nights were the only time I got to be even the tiniest bit romantic.”
Monica tugs her lip in a coy smile. “A blanket and telescope under the stars were more than a tiny romantic.”
“It’s just a sliver of what I’m capable of.”
“I’m intrigued Mr. Matthews.”
“Good. I’m glad you liked the appetizer.”
“Speaking of appetizer, have you been back to that restaurant we went to with Rick? The House? That crab cake thing was awesome.”
“So was the pork chop, but no, I haven’t been back. I tried not to put myself in places where I’d think of you too much. Which basically meant I stayed on the roof and painted. It’s been tricky to get the paint consistency right with all the moisture. It’s something I never thought about.”
“Interesting. I had to avoid Alex’s closet.”
“Uh, what do you mean?”
“Alex hung the painting you left in his closet next to his mirror. He said he wanted to look at my smile every day.”
“I wished so many times I had kept it so I could do the same thing.”
“We argued about who was keeping that too when we were packing. He wanted it which I thought was absurd since he was the one pushing the divorce.” She stops.
Did I just say that?
“He asked for the divorce?”
“Yeah. The night when we saw you. We came back the next morning. He canceled the rest of the trip and then we went to our last session of couple’s therapy, which was a joke. I walked out.”
“Fuck. I’m sorry, I really had no idea you two were on the island. That’s a shitty way to end a vacation.”
“Yeah, we never made it to Kauai. I realized right away that ninety percent of the people at that resort were either on their honeymoon or celebrating their anniversary.” They both get quiet as things have shifted back to the darker place they didn’t want to linger in. “Where did you move on the island by the way?”
“The south end, near the shops where the gallery is. It’s called Makena.”
I can’t believe that he picked my favorite spot. I never told him about it. Did I? Only millionaires live there... How can he afford that? Even condos are a million...
“Have you talked to your family lately?” he asks.
Subject shift much.
“I talked to my brother last week when I was moving. He was worried about Alex more than me. Why?”
“Just curious if you had more support than just Robin. Hate to think you’ve been doing this alone. I guess you had Rianne and Tristan though right?”
“No. I didn’t tell them what was going on. They were sort of upset with me already before the drinking that night.”
“Why wouldn’t you tell them?”
“Because Tristan thought Alex walked on water, and she has a holier-than-thou way of looking at marriage. I didn’t want to deal with her trying to put a hopeful spin on fixing things.”
“And your excuse with Rianne?”
“They’re not excuses, they’re reasons. Ri and I haven’t been close since she married Jack.”
“Because you don’t like it.”
“No. I just don’t get it. One of them changed, and I doubt it was him.”
“You don’t seem to think much of your friends.”
“What? How can you say something so mean?”
“I’m just listening to you. You’re putting a lot of restrictions on what your friends might do, but you’re just holding things back.”
“I know them. I know how they are. I was protecting myself.”