Animate Me / Chapter Eight / Hearts Unfolding

“You’re afraid to tell Wilma, aren’t you?” ~Barney Rubble to Fred Flintstone

In Saturday’s sober morning light I replay what will forever be termed “The Smokehouse Fiasco” in my mind. The single picture that will accompany this memory is of horror-struck Brooke, with her mouth gaping open, after I’ve revealed that I’m a sexual failure. I might as well have a flashing neon sign that says “loser” installed right over my forehead. The fact that she goes onto explain that she was raised in a sexually charged atmosphere only a few steps above a brothel didn’t help. She is a writhing, pulsing, sexual creature while I’m an amoeba whose cell hasn’t yet divided.

Not only did I not explain the faux Dani romance as I’d intended, but I agreed to a pity fuck so Brooke can fulfill her community service hours for the romantically and sexually disenfranchised, of which I’m a fully vested member.

I only crawl out of my cocoon long enough to grab a bowl of Captain Crunch. Then I go back to bed to eat and watch the Spongebob Squarepants marathon on Nickelodeon. The happy sponge in the little shorts is the only thing preventing me from falling into a funk. My phone rings just past noon and thanks to my curious nature, I surprise myself by answering it.

“So Nathan, what the hell is up with our date tonight? I haven’t even heard from you.”

“I’m sorry, Dani,” I moan.

“If this deal is off, it’s fine with me. I just need to know cause I need to get out tonight one way or another, and the girls are going clubbing.”

I can’t mess this up now. “How about a movie?”

“You’re paying, right?”

“Of course. I’m a gentleman.”

“A gentleman, now that’s a novelty these days. Good for you. Keep that up ’cause I bet Brooke will get off on that too.”

My head starts pounding. How will I ever keep this up? “So can I pick you up at seven? I ask. “We can eat something and then see a nine o’clock.”

“Right-e-O,” she confirms.

All in all it wasn’t a bad first date, despite the fact that it really wasn’t a date, the movie sucked and I spilled the popcorn. At least the Mexican food was good and Dani gave me the lowdown on the various love connections at Sketch Republic. Evidently there must be something in the air filtration system because lust sparks are flying all over the place, on every show. Leave it to me to be completely oblivious until it’s spelled out for me. Even loser Kevin is getting it on with Beatrice down in editing.

At the end of the evening, when I walk Dani to her door, I start to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” She asks, confused.

“Well, Brooke’s been teaching me how to kiss you goodnight for our first date. The irony of all of this is just too much.”

She puts her hands on her hips defiantly. “Wait, you said minimal kissing and I thought it was only for PDA’s.”

“Chill, I’m not kissing you.”

“Why don’t you tell Brooke that you chickened out and you need more training?”

“I may just do that,” I tease her. If I am ever able to face her again, I groan inwardly. I reach out and give Dani a hug. “Thanks again for everything.”

“You’re welcome. See you Monday.”

• • •

Curtis never shows up for tennis and brunch at the folks Sunday morning. When I call him he picks up his phone but I can hear Billie giggling in the background.

“What’s up, Bro?”

“Aren’t you coming?”

“Coming?”

“To Mom and Dad’s—it’s brunch time.”

“No shit, it’s Sunday already!” He appears to pull the phone away as his voice gets softer. “Baby, did you know it’s Sunday?” She squeals. In a million years I would have never imagined hearing Billie sound giddy like that. Curtis gets back on the line.

“Hey Bro, will you tell Mom and Dad that I’m tied up and can’t make it.” More loud squeals from Billie. Holy shit, does she really have him tied up?

I swallow hard. “Do you mean literally tied up?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” he taunts. “Let’s just say that Billie thinks I’ve been naughty.”

“Too much information!” I yell into the phone. “I’ll see you next week.”

• • •

Wary doesn’t begin to describe my mood Monday morning. Three times I pick up the phone to call in sick so that I don’t have to face Brooke yet, but I finally man up and head out the door. After all, I can’t avoid her forever.

It helps that when I wander into the break room mid-morning to get more coffee that Dani and Genna are having a colorful conversation that totally takes my mind off my problems.

“He was hot Dani, really I would do him without a second thought,” Genna says with wide eyes and a brisk head nod.

“Really, that dude from Tangled?” Dani responds. “From the commercials he looked obnoxious.”

“Yeah, but he grows on you. And he’s got the moves.” Genna sighs.

I silently sigh too. Yeah, those animated leading men always got the moves.

“Well, haven’t you ever seen a cartoon character you’d do?” I challenge Dani. I notice Nick at the back of the room trying to get a vending machine to work.

She thinks for a moment. “I would say Tarzan. Yeah, most definitely.”

“Oh yeah, he was hot,” Genna agrees.

“What a body. And I’d finally get to see what was under that loin cloth.”

I notice Nick is lingering, leaning against the vending machine eating his newly purchased granola bar.

“So how about you Nathan?” Dani asks. “Who have you dreamed about, besides me of course.”

Genna snickers, and Nick looks over.

“I bet you liked that Jessica Rabbit from Who Framed Roger Rabbit. Am I right?” Dani asks.

“Close,” I admit. “My favorite is Tex Avery’s Red Hot. Now that’s a body…and the way she moved. She was hand-drawn sex for sure.”

“So you like the girls with the curves, some meat on their bones,” Genna says happily.

“Yes, I do,” I say with conviction.

“If only more guys felt that way,” Genna sighs. “I could eat more cupcakes.”

“That girl in the movie Saturday was pretty lush,” Dani points out.

“You guys saw a movie Saturday?” Genna asks surprised. I can feel Nick’s eyes on me but I refuse to look at him. I’m going to need to talk to him as soon as I figure out what to say.

“Yeah, Nathan took me out on a date.” She says dramatically.

We hear a rustle and all three of us turn to see Nick leaving the room.

Fuck.

Dani gives me a knowing look. I can’t tell if she’s happy or scared.

Maybe I should go pick a fight with Joel now because clearly my life isn’t quite complicated enough, and he’s the only key person I haven’t offended this week. I lower my head and stumble back to my cube.

Four twenty-five. I hold the warm cup in my hand with my marker poised in the air. What to draw? What to say?

I finally settle on Hefty Smurf scratching his head confused, while his intended conquest, Smurfette’s head is peeking out from where she is hiding behind the Starbucks logo. I do the whole thing in a blue marker.

I give myself a pep talk and slowly head upstairs, praying that Brooke is in a meeting. I approach Morgan’s desk warily, looking past her to see if Brooke is in her office. My stomach falls when I see that she is, but then a wave of relief hits me when I realize that she’s on the phone.

Making a split-second decision, I set the drink in front of Morgan.

“Hey, Morgan, I see that Brooke’s on the phone and I don’t want to interrupt her. Could you just give this to her.”

She stands up and takes the drink. “Actually she told me to interrupt her when you came by.”

“No, that’s okay. Don’t interrupt her,” I say as I take steps backwards, then turn to head towards the elevator. Of course this is one of those days where both cars are on the bottom floor and don’t appear to be going anywhere. I squint and look up, searching the halls for an exit or stairs sign.

“Nathan?”

I push my glasses up my nose and turn slowly to see Brooke standing with her hands on her hips. Her body language looks angry but her eyes look sad.

“Can you come with me please?”

I nod and follow her silently. She’s wearing heels and one of those tight business-y skirts that showcases her magnificent bottom. The sway of her hips with each step hypnotizes me all the way back until I’m in a trance by the time we’re in her office with the door closed.

She turns towards me. “Morgan said you practically threw my drink down and ran down the hall. What’s going on?”

I want to cover my face with my hands, but I can’t hide from Brooke. She doesn’t deserve that. I study the Iron Giant poster for a minute to think about what I can say.

“I’m just so embarrassed, Brooke. You know things about me now that no one else knows. And as okay as it felt Friday when I was drunk, now I’m just horrified that I told you all of those really personal things.”

“So you are horrified and don’t want to see me because I know you’ve had a disappointing sexual history?”

She whispered the question but it’s like she’s screamed in my ear. I nod, muted from the weight of that sober confession.

“Does that mean you don’t want to be friends anymore? Is that what you’re trying to tell me?” I look up and see her sad eyes are now veiled with hurt.

“Maybe we shouldn’t be friends.” I admit. “It’s so unbalanced. You’re helping me and what do I do for you besides the computer stuff? What do I bring to the friendship? I don’t want you to feel sorry for me. It makes me feel like a bigger loser than I already am.”

“You’re not a loser, Nathan,” she insists, but I can hear the defeat in her voice. She lets out a long sigh and sinks into her desk chair before putting her face in her hands and leaning forward over her desk. “I knew this would happen,” she mumbles.

I notice a sophisticated arrangement of flowers on her desk. All kinds of fancy flowers: roses, lilies, stuff that girls like…stuff that I would’ve never given Brooke. My heart shrinks a bit more and I know I can never compete for her with guys like Arnold.

“Are those from Arnold?”

I notice the corners of her mouth turn up slightly when she hears me use his real name. She nods, silently watching me.

“Did you make up?”

“He spoiled me all weekend to make up for his mistake…dinner at Le Cirque, brunch in Malibu. This is my third delivery of flowers. Do you like my new earrings?” She flicks the dangling blue stone with her finger. “He got these for me too.”

Her tone is weird. I’m not sure if his gestures did the trick or not.

“They’re very nice. Well, that’s good. You should be spoiled,” I say quietly.

“But we really aren’t going to be friends anymore? Is that really it, Nathan?”

“I guess not.”

“I’m an idiot,” she says, leaning her head on her hand, her elbow resting across a tall pile of business papers. “I should’ve never touched you. I pushed things too far and I worried about it all weekend. That was wrong of me. I care about you, and I like being close to you; that’s where my intentions were. I didn’t want to upset you. I hope you understand that.”

“Of course, I do.”

“But I was wrong. I’m sorry I touched you. Please just forget it ever happened.”

“Brooke…” I stammer.

“It’s okay. I won’t bother you anymore. Let’s just say goodbye now.” She stands and walks to the door and opens it without looking at me.

“Brooke…”

“Please, Nathan.”

Oh, I have really screwed up now.

“Okay, bye.”

The door closes softly behind me.

Morgan doesn’t even turn around.

I walk mechanically to the elevator like a wind-up toy. I’m in my car and half way home before it hits me that I’m supposed to be going over the upcoming storyboards with Joel right now. I walked out of the building and left my iPod on my desk and computer open.

I don’t even hesitate. I can’t care about any of that, and I keep driving. I just blew my one chance for true love, and it’s taking all my focus to get myself safely home. Even if I could have Wayne’s wise words fill my head, and some whiskey fill my unquenchable thirst, it still wouldn’t do a thing for the hole I just blasted in my heart.

The next morning, everything is grey, and I feel dead inside but I do my damndest to get to the studio and catch up on my work. I don’t want Joel to think I’m dropping the ball, on top of everything else.

Right before noon I sense someone looking at me and I glance up to see Nick waiting in my doorway. He looks very intense.

“Got a minute?” he asks.

“Sure.” I slowly pull out my earbuds and pause my iPod. “What’s up?”

“So what’s going on with you and Dani?” He folds his arms over his chest and watches me carefully.

The direct approach…I gotta hand it to Nick, that’s pretty effective. I can’t believe his timing, but I suck it up because I know I should’ve faced him already.

“We went out Saturday. Does that bother you? I didn’t think you’d mind since you aren’t into her anymore.”

“How do you know what I’m into?”

“Well, I presumed. It’s been a long time since you were together. Dani doesn’t think you like her anymore either. She told me that.”

“Is that so? I’m just surprised that you didn’t ask me first. I thought we were friends.”

“We are friends. I’m sorry, you’re right, I should’ve said something. You looked pissed off that night we all went out.”

He watches me for a moment. “Okay, it’s cool. You’ve always been clueless.”

“So we’re still friends?”

“Yeah, you idiot.” He smiles, just slightly.

“But can I suggest something, Nick? If you do still like Dani you should try to work it out with her. You guys seem like you’re still into each other.”

“Really?” he asks with his eyebrows raised.

“I think she still loves you, dude. She’s a really great girl, you know.”

“I know,” he says quietly.

“Well, so are you going to make me fight you for her?” I grin at him and he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, how about a duel at sunset?”

“No, a video game at lunchtime is more my speed. You pick the game.”

He suddenly gets serious. “The problem is that I don’t want to screw with her. If we get back together it’s gotta be for good—the white dress and diapers and shit. I just need to be sure that I’m ready to grow up ’cause right now I’m still a big, stupid kid and Dani deserves better than that.”

“I think you’re more grown up than you think,” I say resolutely. “But if you insist, I’ll keep dating her until you make up your mind.”

“Just watch your step, asshole. If I hear that you’ve fucked her, I’ll kill you.”

“Noted.”

I watch him walk away and I replay the conversation in my head. Either I finally did something right today, or I screwed up my relationships with two more people who I really care about. I’m such a mess; I can’t decide which…all I can do is hope that I did the right thing.

• • •

There’s finally a single ray of sunshine that afternoon. I get a call from Chris Carpenter from Sharper Edge Comics wanting to meet me for lunch to discuss the deal for the B-Girl series. He puts his assistant on and we set it up for next Friday in Studio City. I feel a surge of excitement pumping through me and even though the feeling quickly fades, I’m still grateful to have the meeting to look forward to.

Just after five I see Morgan wandering down our aisle sticking her head in each cube looking for someone. I consider hiding under my animation desk, but before I can fall to my knees she sees me.

“What happened to you?” She looks angry, tapping her watch impatiently.

“What are you talking about?”

“Where’s her coffee? Her afternoon visit?”

I blanch.

“Did the pitch not go well and now it’s payback time?” she sneers.

“Morgan, for the last time I wasn’t going to pitch her, and I didn’t. That’s not what’s happening here.”

“Okay, can you then tell me why she left early yesterday without a word and I caught her crying at her desk a few minutes ago. Right after she’d asked if I’d seen you.”

She might as well have kicked me in the stomach. “Really?” I ask softly. “She was crying?”

“I’ve never seen her cry before. It freaked me out. And yes, she’s my boss…but I care about her. She’s a really good person.”

“I know she is, Morgan. She was just trying to help me, and I screwed up.”

“Well then, fix it, damn it!”

Morgan’s kind of scary when she’s mad. I jump up from my drafting chair and grab my Sharpie. “I’ll be up there in a few.”

“Okay, hurry. She just got pulled into a meeting so I want it waiting for her when she gets back.”

Other than the excruciating moments in the elevator, I run all the way to Starbucks. My hand’s shaky when I draw on the cup but I do my best. I draw an eye, with a screw next to it followed by an apostrophe and the letter “d”. Next I draw an arrow pointing up. I screwed up.

Then underneath I draw a little caricature of me with my hair in my face, big glasses, and the biggest frown. In small letters underneath I write, I’m sorry and just underneath, I miss you.

The barista has put those little green stoppers in the sip hole of the lid so I’m able to run back to the studio without spilling it all.

My heart is pounding as I run up to Morgan’s desk and hand her Brooke’s drink. “Did I make it? Is she out yet?”

“No, perfect timing,” she says, giving me a thumbs up. “I think it’s almost over.”

“Good,” I gasp still catching my breath. I set the second coffee on her desk. “Here Morgan, this mocha’s for you. Thanks for your help.”

She looks up at me and smiles. “You’re welcome. Thanks for the drink. Here I’m going to put this on her desk so it’s waiting for her when she gets back. I really hope this will cheer her up.”

“Me too.”

Everything hits me as I get into the elevator and almost sink to my knees. The emotional overload of the last couple of days is crashing down on me. I don’t know how much more I can take. Maybe I was better off alone, with my predictable weeks, and small, reliable group of friends. I’m living Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride now and it’s terrifying. But just hearing how sad Brooke is breaks my heart again and makes me realize that I can’t walk away from her…not now, not ever.

I get back to my cube and force myself to work knowing that Joel often walks through in the afternoon to see how our assignments are progressing. Sure enough, only minutes later he steps in to say hi and I show him the latest drawings. He doesn’t seem to sense anything amiss and I breath a sigh of relief when he moves on to Andy’s cube.

Just past five-thirty, I get a text. My heart leaps when I see it’s from Brooke.

Thanks for the coffee, Nathan.

I’m so sorry for being an idiot, Brooke.

You’re not an idiot. This would be a lot for anyone to deal with. I think you’re very brave.

Well, I think you’re amazing. Thanks for believing in me.

Do does this mean we can still be friends?

I realize how brave she is to ask this.

There’s nothing I want more. Can I still come over Thursday night and help with your website?

I guess so, but only if you’re sure you’re comfortable with me. I promise not to touch you.

Why don’t we talk about the touching part when we meet? I’m very comfortable with you, okay?

Okay, that makes me happy. I’ll see you at seven.

See you then. I have a big smile when I hit the send button for the last time.

• • •

Thursday at six forty-five I play the Foo Fighters, Everlong really loud the whole way up the hill. I can barely breathe I’m so excited to see her. Even though I can’t open my heart to her yet, I wish I could tell her everything…that I love her…that I want her to touch every part of me, as long as I can touch her too.

After I park, I lower the sun-shield and looking in the mirror, try to smooth out my crazy hair. Before I climb out of the car I take a few deep, calming breaths.

It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s okay.

When she buzzes me in, I use my back to push the gate shut, as my hands are more than full. She pulls the door open and smiles. She looks hopeful and happy to see me.

I’m overcome. I want to cry out of frustration for almost messing this up. I want to pull her into my arms and kiss her until the sun sets over us, or something equally corny, but true.

Instead I lift my heavy arms and show her the twelve packs of Heinekens I’m holding in each hand. “These are for you. Well, for us.” I say quietly.

“Thanks,” she says, pulling the door open wider.

And then I realize why I’m the luckiest man in the world.

Yes! Yoga pants. Her curvy hips and lush thighs are sheathed in stretchy black magic. I almost pass out in excitement. My eyes trail up to her torso where Tom is chasing Jerry over the round, full swell of her breasts. It’s almost too much — it’s so damn good. I know she’s worn this just for me.

Now I understand people with faith. God is Good…so, so good. Yoga pants good, and in my book there’s nothing better.

I step right up to her and lay the beer at her feet like a sacred offering. She looks up at me and smiles, opening her arms and I step right into them.

The hug is long, our hearts unfolding. This is a new beginning and I’m going to be stealthy and hardy, brave and kind, everything that asshat, Arnold, isn’t. I will do whatever it takes until my dreamy, cartoon-loving, Red Hot in yoga pants knows without a doubt that I’m the best man for her.