Just Cohabitating
LIVING WITH BETSY IS PERFECT. So perfect I barely know there’s a third person here. It’s Tuesday night and I’ve only seen her once since Sunday. This morning I left early to get to her house and I caught her walking from the bathroom to her room in only a towel. We didn’t get farther than good morning when Jack walked out of his room. A miracle for him, since it was like seven am. Betsy hopped into her room quickly since she was nearly naked and surrounded by too much of the Davis manliness. I’ve been working to make up for the time lost on the mold remediation at her home and so I’ve been getting there early and staying late.
When I get home Tuesday night, the house smells heavenly and I find Betsy and Jack hanging out in the kitchen. In the middle of the island where they are both sitting is something that looks like a giant chicken.
Betsy’s eyes light up when she sees me. “Joe! You are home, finally. Look, I made the chicken pot pie,” she says pointing to the large chicken that looks somewhat like the one we saw on the cooking show.
“Oh shit, you made it? You are my hero. How did you make the head look so good? Can I cut into it? Can I be Norman? Please?” I’m losing my mind, I’m so happy.
She and my brother laugh at my ridiculousness. “Bro, take it down a notch,” Jack says.
“Wait, let me go get my axe,” I say and sprint outside to get the small hatchet from the shed. When I return, they are both looking at me like I’m nuts. Which, I am. I’m standing in my kitchen, holding a hatchet, ready to cut into a giant pot pie shaped like a chicken. Weirdo numero uno, and proud of it.
“Is it strange that I’m like the tiniest bit turned on right now?” Betsy asks, taking her phone out and snapping a picture of me and the chicken.
“Of course not, I’m holding an ax, wearing plaid and am as unbearably handsome as I am charming. Let’s do this.” She hands me a knife and I hack into the pie. It’s immensely satisfying and I feel my stress melt away just being with some of my favorite people.
“Rough day, there, Joe?” my brother asks.
“It was a challenge. The wood delivered for the floor wasn’t exactly right, we had to replace some beams in the mold room, and Donovan was a surly beast all day because his cat scratched the hell out of his arm and his avocado toast was soggy. Coming home to you awesome duo with this ridiculous chicken made every second worth it.” All of this spills out of me as I plate out a serving for everyone and then wash my hands.
We all sit and dig in. “Oh boy,” Betsy says.
“Mmhm,” Jack agrees.
“Someone went a little wild with the salt?” I ask.
Betsy looks devastated and I hate that. “Maybe I didn’t mix everything together well enough.” She is biting her fingernail looking so sad.
“Hey, it’s the most awesome thing ever. I like salty stuff and so does Jack. When I was first starting to cook, I always added too much salt so we got used to it, right Jackie?” I ask him making sure my look conveys he better say something nice.
“Oh yeah, I barely even noticed,” he says shoveling food in his mouth and then drinking giant gulps of water.
We all start to eat again. “Other than the floors, how’s the house coming?” Betsy asks.
“Good, we are trying to get back on schedule after the mold fiasco and we are getting there. It’s a real diamond in the rough you picked there, Bets.”
“I know, but I love the location and I could see all the possibilities, even beyond the flamingo,” she says smiling.
“What made you want to buy something?” I ask.
“Well, I had some money saved and then I got this giant bonus at work and I didn’t know what to do with all the money I had. I asked my dad for advice and he said real estate was always a good investment. Honestly, I think he was hoping I’d buy something in Ohio. I could have bought like three houses there for what I paid for this one. When I told him I bought the house here, he seemed surprised. I guess I rarely take his advice.” She looks from me to Jack and smiles. “I felt bad. We are distant and not just physically. My parents and I have agreed to not talk about certain things in my life, especially my job. So now I make sure to share as much as I can about the reno since it’s neutral. My dad likes hearing about the house so that’s what we talk about.”
“Then I will try to give you as many of the juicy details as I can.”
“Thanks, Joe. Not sure mold damage and wood deliveries are the juiciest details, but I’ll take them.”
“If you need me to manufacture a dead body found in your cellar then I will.”
“Wait, there’s a cellar?” she asks.
“Nope, but your dad doesn’t know that,” I say and she smiles. Mission accomplished.
* * *
After dinner, Jack and Betsy go to his room to work on video game stuff and I’m a little envious. They have a lot in common and she doesn’t treat him like he’s ridiculous. I know I can be a lot to take, but she seems to be warming up to me. I sit in my music room and play some songs I’ve been working on. My headphones are on and I’m jamming along to some drum tracks Andrew has recorded for me over the years. When I play, I get lost in the music and am mostly out of my own headspace. I’ve been playing for about an hour and when I finish playing a riff and open my eyes to write it down, I’m surprised to find Betsy lounging in the bean bag chair in the corner. I pull my headphones down so they are sitting on my shoulders.
“Hey, Bestie. You guys done with your nerd stuff?” I ask teasing.
“Yeah, your genius brother rewrote half the code and his animation is killer. I have a feeling he doesn’t need me.” I nod because she’s probably right. “He said to let you know he was going to Kel’s. What were you playing? It’s lovely.”
I shrug. “Just fiddling. Andrew and I have been working on some originals. I’m no songwriter but I can come up with some good melodies.”
“You are a conundrum, Joe,” she says and I give her a questioning look. “You are so confident in some of the weirdest ways, and then self-conscious about other things like parenting and playing music—things you’re actually good at.”
“Parenting maybe, but music, never. I guess I wish I had been able to follow through with my training. I feel like I could be so much better if my life had gone in a different direction.” I strum a few chords and put the guitar down. “Don’t get me wrong, as a musician, I’m amazing. Can you imagine if I was fully realized as one? It would be hardly fair with this hot ass package too.”
Her eyes roll to the skies and I reach for her hand to pull her up. She takes it and I pull her to me and my arms go around her. I start to sway and dance with her. “I’m so sorry I thought you had a humble bone in your body. Forgive me, Joe.”
I pull her a little bit closer, smelling her hair. It’s pulled back with a headband, spilling down her back and smells like tangerines. “You’re forgiven, just dance with me while I try not to make a joke about my humble bone,” I say when I feel her pulling back a little. She relaxes, even laughing at my dumb joke. We just stand in the middle of my music room rocking back and forth to no music but our own.
Eventually, I let her go and she heads down the hall to her room. I know I should go to bed, I have to get up at the ass crack and pick up some pieces for the bannister and all of the wood for the stairs. Then spend the day dealing with Don and Denver, my carpenter. Denver is basically Jesus. He is a long-haired hippie, wears these tunics that look like robes, and he’s a carpenter. Most of the crew call him Jesus. Marisol and Luz started it but they pronounce it Hay-seuss instead, Den gets it but I don’t think he likes it very much. Anyway, Don is tiring most days, but he and Denver together are downright exhausting. Because of the way Denver looks, a lot of people assume he’s this free-thinking dude. He is actually the most conservative of all my friends and employees. Don, who was one of the first hippies ever, likes to give him a hard time and talks politics constantly. I stay out of it but it can get to be a bit much even as a bystander.
Instead of heading to bed, I go downstairs and outside to the hot tub. I fire it up and go back in to get myself a beer. When I’m back outside, I take all of my clothes off at record speed and jump in the tub. It’s a chilly night, like most in our fair city. I rest my head on the side and close my eyes, letting my day and everything else melt away. The jets are loud so I don’t hear Betsy slide the door open and come outside. When she gets in, I feel the movement of the water and open my eyes. Bad idea. She has her hair up in a cotton candy swirl of a bun on her head, her face is clear and pretty. Her bare shoulders peek out of the water and my eyes trace the petals of the dahlia at the base of her throat.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hi,” she says back and settles her head back, eyes closed just like I was. Except she places her feet gently on mine. I’m 100% down for the hot tub footsie happening and return my head back but I keep my eyes open. I won’t pass up an opportunity to see her when she’s right before me.
We stay like that for about half an hour. I can’t take the heat for more than that so I’m the first to move. I stretch my arms above my head and then stand in front of her. Quickly, I realize my dick is face level and turn and hop out. I’m not sure but her eyes don’t open until I’m about half turned so she didn’t get a full face of penis. She did finally get a glimpse of my full moon. Lucky lady.
I grab a towel and dry myself off slowly. Betsy sits up a little and her tits come up out of the water. Her nipples sharp points when they hit the cool air. She just sits and watches me so I drag it out a little. Take a little bit longer drying my hair with the towel barely covering my abs. Then I finish the show drying my backside, dick swinging. Finally, I tuck the towel around my waist, give her a big ole obnoxious wink, and head inside.
I only realize my mistake once I’m in my bathroom showering off. I left before she got out.