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How would Houdini handle this? Rob laid there as he waited for the blurred memories of the night before to settle. Marie’s back pressed tightly to him, her smooth legs brushing against his as they shifted up towards her chest. The combined effects of the morning, the feeling of moving, bare skin, and the remainder of alcohol in his system sent a jolt through Rob that made him all too aware of his nerve endings and the situation he was in. He smiled as a lock of Marie’s blonde hair fell away from her shoulders as she shifted in her sleep, and his legs instinctively worked their way up to cradle hers. He let out a hesitant breath, careful not to stir her hair, to tickle her skin. Just make the moment last a little longer. They were laying on the thin, cotton sheets of her bed, of which the other side somehow wrapped around his body and was clenched, much to his dismay, in her ruby red fingertips.
He could make out those fingernails trailing along his lips and down No No No. He carefully shook his eyes from side to side. It was much too precarious to change moving his neck muscles, to dare disturb the pillow that her golden head was resting upon. Lessee, Houdini, straightjackets, dislocate the shoulder and we’re home free! A minute passed, and he had still had not managed to dislocate his shoulder by sheer willpower. Rolling towards his back, he tested her grip on the sheet. It budged slightly, stressing against his back, and giving just a smidgen of room. He pursed his lips and took another deep breath, and began to slowly inch his way out from underneath the sheet, his fingers and ankles working in small movements to drag his body across the bed like an overweight inchworm. A little at a time, slow and steady. His feet touched the floor and his weight shifted off of the bed with the greatest care. Thank you memory foam, you have just saved me a lot of … humiliation I guess? He stood at the foot of the bed for a moment, surveying the wreckage of a long term friendship. It lay there crashed upon eggshell colored icebergs, soft and smelling of detergent. A stray beam of morning sunshine crept in through the blinds where one long plastic strand refused to glide into place with the rest and began to make its way up Marie’s face. A brief flash of horror clouded over Rob’s eyes as he rushed his naked form across the floor to fidget with the string attached to the blinds. A slow breath crept out from his lung and he began to silently ruffle through the pile of clothes in the corner, picking out and untangling his jeans and shirt from a frilly blue bra and matching blouse.
He slid his clothes on as if they had bells attached; the fabric scraping across his skin was a symphony inside of his head. Nothing but silk from now on. As he pulled his shirt on and began to button it, he caught a glimpse of himself in the full length mirror next to the door leading out into the hallway of Marie’s apartment. His rumpled hair, the gel long rubbed out by greedy hands, the long creases and missing button in his shirt, along with the red eyes of a recovery victim gave away his true nature. Idiot… He sighed and turned back to the bed, eyes sweeping across the pictures of vacations, parties, and life events that all held the same beautiful face framed by long blonde hair. He noticed he was in a few and turned back to the pictures for a moment. Two children riding those clunky plastic tricycles down a suburban street, green grass cut to uniform height and trees arching over the wide road. Two friends laid back on the stoop of an apartment building made of red brick, ivy tracing its way up through the wrought iron fence that appeared to make three square feet of solid concrete a suitable yard. A picture of graduation night, the brown haired boy and blonde haired girl cheek to cheek in black robes, red and black tassels drooping from their square caps, one pressed in between their cheeks, smiles as big as could be, with a myriad of classmates milling about in the background. Wow, Ben’s mom was really, really hot. I should go home more. There was a slight rustling of covers behind him and he whipped around.
He spun around, almost losing his grip on the shoes in his hand, and breathed a sigh of relief to see Marie was only nuzzling her face into the pillow, a small spot of dampness forming where her mouth was pressed against the casing. He stood still for a moment more, watching her chest rise and fall with the gentle rhythm of sleep. Rising and falling and rising and falling and more images from the night before shot into Rob’s mind. Rising and falling and oh god, stoppit! Go, go! Get gone out now! Yet he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her figure, gently reclined in a room of matching colors and memories. She was familiar; he had felt her skin against his before. The rubbing of arms as they sat together for lunch, the football games in Fogway Park, bumping into one another as they sifted through the crowds on their way to work, he to the recording studio, her to the dentist’s office. Still, this skin before him, this figure he had only seen draped in professional blouses and skirts, colorful sun dresses and the occasional t-shirt and jeans, was completely alien and even more enticing than he had ever imagined. He took a chance to feel her again, to feel the rush of relief. Approaching the bed slowly he set his shoes on the floor, making certain to not let the hard rubber soles click together. He bent over her and brushed another long lock of hair away from her temple and planted a soft kiss before righting himself. His eyes prepared for one last look of the scene. The pictures on the wall, the dresser pressed neatly against the wall with a myriad of snowglobes lined up masterfully, the pile of clothes in the corner, the shoe tree hanging on the door to the walk-in closet, the perfect pattern in the beige rug, and most of all, the form in front of him.
His eyes trailed down her legs for a moment, and a brief moment of brilliance flashed into his mind. She’s always complained about her damn feet getting cold. Wouldn’t wear socks because she thought it’d look stupid. You’re sleeping, so what? She’s as stubborn now as she was then. He gingerly lifted the edge of the sheet that he was recently trapped under and began to drape it over her body and as an afterthought tucked the pillow he had been issued behind her, smiling as she settled her weight back unconsciously. His head shook from side to side as he smiled. Taking up his shoes he began to tiptoe towards the hallway, the carpet yielding to the graceful contours of his toes. His foot touched the cold tile and a shiver went up his legs.
“And just where the hell do you think you’re going?”
The shiver downshifted and slammed on the gas, careening towards his brain as a full-on spasm, but not before making a detour that slapped his stomach hard enough to make it churn. Houdini wasn’t expecting it, either. Rob turned his head sheepishly over his shoulder and saw Marie pushing herself out of bed with one arm, the other throwing back the sheet as her legs swung down to the floor. His lips parted and a soft sound began to unfold on his tongue as a pillow flew across the room and caught him in the face, sending him stumbling into the hallway, the cold floor pricking at his feet.
“Nice touch with the pillow you jackass. Stick around, we’ll have breakfast,” Marie said as she strolled past him and down the hall, making a quick right into the bathroom and the door sound of the door shutting behind her mimicked the sound of Rob’s heart in his chest. He looked at the sneakers in his hands and sighed. The white canvas had long since lost its shine, but they had always stuck with him through the hard times. He tossed them back into Marie’s room and began to make his way to the kitchen. As the muffled sound of the shower clicking on filled the small apartment, Rob began searching through the refrigerator for something to eat. Bread, leftover pasta, a couple bottles of cheap red wine, a brick of cheese, milk, and a few eggs were all that occupied the bright white space aside from the entire selection of rare and unique condiments that filled the door space. Chutneys from Taiwan, Dijon from the grocery store, duck sauce packets from deliveries from Colonel Kim’s Western Style BBQ, this collection had it all. He snaked the ketchup out from behind the chutney collection and pulled a few eggs from their pastel blue carton and headed to the stove.
An hour later after Marie had showered and, much to Rob’s dismay and relief, dressed herself, they sat down at a simple but efficient meal of cheese omelets at the small table next to the stove. They ate in relative silence, spots of conversation emerging from Marie but dwindling on Rob’s responses. He whisked away the plates and silverware after they finished and then sat down across from Marie as she looked out of the window, her eyes following the early Sunday pedestrian traffic of the city. She twirled her coffee cup idly, red fingertips guiding the white porcelain with unfocused care.
“Some party, huh?” she said.
“Uh…yeah. Can’t believe Marcus tried to make it from the roof to the pool.”
“Dentist’s do know how to party I suppose.”
“Yeah,” he said, a nervous chuckle popping from his lips, “must be a blast to work for the guy.”
“Oh you know,” she said, trailing off to a place only her eyes could see.
“Um, well, I should probably be going, gotta let the dog out and all,” he said as he pushed his chair back.
“No, sit. Just for a bit.”
And here we go.
He cleared his throat and looked up. “Look, about what happened between us last night, y’know, you and me and well, all of that, it’s fine, I’m not going to be weird about it or anything. I was drunk, you were drunk, hell, I think your boss’ cat was drunk. It’s fine, it was just casual, I’m alright with that.” You suck at lying, Robert. Way to go champ. He finally closed his mouth and found an interesting pattern on the tabletop of which to trace while he waited for her response. Her fingers hesitated on the smooth, white cup and her lips drew in between her teeth if only for a moment. She smiled broadly with just the right amount of teeth as her head turned towards him, her hair flowing around her shoulders. That’s part of the business. With her eyes darting down quickly she cleared her throat.
“Yeah, casual. Everyone makes a drunken mistake now and then right?” she said, her eyes sparkling gently, “besides, you’ve been there through them all and you know how I feel about the whole relationship thing nowadays. Besides, why ruin a good thing?”
Yeah, I know how you feel. Never make a current relationship a new one. Rule #8, brought on by George the Dental Supplies Specialist.
“Anyways, I’ve got to run some errands and you know Bowser hates it when you’re out all night.”
“Yeah, uh, alright, I’ll just go grab my shoes and be out of your hair. Um, still doing lunch on Monday?”
“Don’t we always?” she said, eyebrows raising.
“Um, alright, well, ok.”
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Rob could hear Bowser’s nails tap against the cheap tiling that coated his third floor walk-up when he slid the key into the lock. He twisted it open quickly and let himself inside only to be mauled by a large greyhound, bouncing and licking and acting a general fool.
“Hey! Hey! No jump! No jump! Attaboy, attaboy,” he said as he patted the dog on the head. He headed towards his own kitchen, throwing his keys across the room onto the sofa in front of his entertainment system. “Did ya miss me? Huh? Didja?” The dog answered by yawning, sitting down behind Rob, and staring. Bowser’s nose wiggled and his chest heaved with every breath, his face following Rob’s movements across the kitchen while he went from the refrigerator to the trashcan to dispose of the bottle cap he had just removed from a dark green bottle. Rob leaned against the kitchen counter and stared out through the window in his living room, sipping from the bottle while the dog sat patiently. He finally snapped out of his own little world and looked his dog in the eyes.
“What?”
Bowser said nothing.
“Oh come on. Stop that.”
Still nothing from the canine.
“Don’t you judge me!” Silence. “Look, you know what the deal is with her. It wouldn’t work and we’d eventually end up hating each other. Besides, I wouldn’t be able to go over to her Mother’s house for Thanksgiving anymore if that happened. And you’d suffer too, ya mutt!”
Bowser’s nose twitched ever so slightly.
“Hey, I know a few of your friends who wouldn’t like you so much anymore if you tried to mount them regularly. I saw the way you looked at that Pomeranian from 2B. You’re not fooling anyone. Stop looking at me damnit. What do you want from me?!”
One random thought permeated the dog’s small mind: Food.
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Four months passed, Marie and Rob still met for lunch every Monday, him telling stories about Killasaurus Coma recording some heavy grunge tracks in the studio and then proceeding to use the bass guitarist as a battering ram against the soundproof glass, the reason they gave being that ‘sound proof glass is made by the man, man’ with lots of extra A’s attached to the last. She relayed information on just how well someone with a drill in their mouth can articulate four letter words, and at which decibel level the waiting room clears out, giving her the day off aside from the random phone call from adjacent businesses worrying if there had been a murder. They partied with mutual friends, but never alone, and Rob always refused his shots of tequila while Marie seemed to have no problem tipping hers up. It was tedious for Rob to refrain from any sort of physical contact; always making sure she had plenty of room if they had the misfortune of being squeezed into the same side of a booth, their walks to work having a bit more space between the two, subtle changes to anyone but him. To him it seemed as if a vast rift had opened between the two.
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They sat in Marie’s kitchen, omelets with ham and cheese this time. ‘Living the high life’, she had called it. The dishes were once again swept away, and nothing remained but two cups of coffee and silence. Marie broke, or rather shattered that silence.
“So I’ve started seeing someone.”
Rob’s chest tightened. “Oh yes?”
“Yes, um, you remember Marcus, right? He’s one of the dent-“
“Yeah, roof jumper, handsome guy, well good I guess.” His teeth started to grind. How appropriate.
“That’d be him. I know it’s breaking my own rules, but I figured ‘hey, why not’ you know? Not many suitors have come a knocking, so to speak. Might as well go out on a limb.”
“Heh, I guess if that’s the direction you wanna go, get with it.” Oh, fuck you.
She winced slightly at the nonchalance in his voice. Her jaw set firmly for a moment and she took a slow sip of coffee and carefully placed her mug on the table, turning it slowly after it was in place. Her nails were green now. “Well, I had hoped for other directions, but there was the whole big deal about ‘casual’ and whatnot…”
“Wait, what?” Wait, what?!
Marie let out a small sigh and simply stared at the swirling pool of black liquid in her hands.
“What the hell Marie?”
“What the hell, indeed Robert.”
“I was just playing by your god damn rules! Isn’t that what you’ve always picked up from the idiots you date? I wanted you, sure, but I didn’t want to complicate things!”
“Oh! Oh! And you haven’t complicated things anyways? Acting like I have the plague? Being a total buzzkill when we’re out with Marty and Jennifer? What the hell do you call that? I would have much preferred taking a chance at us than deal with you acting like I’m some kind of freak-show alien!”
“But you let me walk out of here! Sat there, right there, and didn’t say a damn thing while I made a fool out of myself. I thought what I said was what you wanted.”
They were standing now. Facing off like two great warriors, each ready to snap and go berserk.
“Maybe you should suck it up and stop doing what I want!”
“What?”
“Listen to me Rob; Grow. A. Pair,” her finger poked into his chest, punctuating each word.
“You know what? Screw you, I’ve done nothing but try to show you how I’ve felt, but you were so damn adamant about those rules I had to hold back. But now those rules aren’t there anymore, I guess it’s time to say what I feel now; fuck it, I’m done with this.”
As the door closed behind him, he could hear Marie’s mug shatter against it, and he could imagine the white, porcelain pieces sprinkling to the tile in the foyer. He made it to the street and began to walk when he heard a voice call out “Hey asshole!” and barely saw the falling object in time to dodge out of the way. Shattered glass and water sprayed out against the concrete. Rob knelt down and picked up the crushed base of a snowglobe. His thoughts ran wild.
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She just tossed out the snowglobe I got her when I went to France. Six months in that country and the only thing I could think about was what would be the perfect gift to get Marie. Something subtle, something collectible, something she would hold onto. Six months and I finally found a snowglobe that fit her. I wrapped it up in so much cushioning to transport it home, it’s all I could fit into my carry-on, but it was worth it to see her smile when I got back to the city to give it to her. I was so happy to see her smile again. Six months in France, famous wines and cheeses and sights and people and the only thing that mattered was making a certain girl back home smile. And...oh…oh no…oh…
Rob’s memory kicked into overdrive. He’d told this story once already, after Marcus had shattered his ankle and almost drowned, and while under the wonderful effects of alcohol.
