Just Stay
TURNS OUT FRANK WAS NOT helpful at all. After practice, we had some tea since I was still feeling like crap and didn’t want to have a beer. My day was pretty easy going, Don made me paint the baseboard in Betsy’s master. We were pretty much done with the upstairs except for trim work. Betsy had some window treatments delivered so after I finished painting, I hung those for her. She could move back in at this point, but I wasn’t going to tell her that. In addition to the upstairs, the kitchen was getting there as well. If she wanted to move back in it would be with very little inconvenience.
I was fuzzy during practice which we ended early since Lia was feeling pukey. Our tour starts soon and we all want to be healthy and good to go. No one hugged me but it’s cool. Being sick sucks and I wouldn’t want my friends to have this. I briefed Frank on the full situation and all he said was, “Sounds like she told you up front she doesn’t do long-term and you didn’t listen.” Right? Like no fucking help at all.
I get home around seven and Jack and Betsy are sitting at the bar. Jack has books and notes out, clearly doing some school work, and Betsy is tapping away on her laptop. The scene sends an arrow straight through my heart. If I could come up with a perfect scene I’d love to see when I get home from work every day, this would be in the top three. Obviously, the number one would be just Betsy, naked. Only food would make this scene solidly in the top two.
“Hey, Joe,” Jack greets me as I walk in the kitchen and sit next to him. “You are just in time for our non-soup meal to arrive.” He smiles wider as the doorbell rings right after he says this. “Ding dong, mother fucker!” he shouts and runs to the door to get our mystery food.
I look over at Betsy and she is staring at me. “Hey,” I say. “How are you?”
She shakes her head. “I’m just fine, a little tired from all my nursing duties from the past week, but I’ll live.” She’s still staring at me.
“What?” I ask.
“Did you seriously send a box of hot dogs to my work with a giant card that said ‘Please touch my wiener?’” she asks and yeah, I may have taken some bad advice from Don.
“Did you like it?”
“I liked the hot dogs, the idiotic note, not so much.” I knew it was over the top but I thought she’d find it funny and I just want to make her laugh and smile.
“It was Don’s idea. He said when you are wooing a woman, she needs to know what you want,” I say, my shoulder’s shaking trying to not laugh. “It was meant as a thank you for taking good care of me and Jack.”
She smacks my bicep (flex). “My boss was at the front desk when they arrived, so thanks for that.”
“Did you share a wiener with him or her?” I ask.
“Fortunately, Nate loves a good wiener so I shared the love.” She smiles and I know she’s not angry.
“So generous. There’s plenty of wiener to spare, as you know,” I say, pointing to my lap.
“Joe, stop pointing at your crotch, you’re besmirching the good Davis name,” Jack says as he walks in carrying a huge bag. “Get some plates for our sushi feast. Betsy and I ordered the right side of the menu.”
We dig in and Jack tells me about his weekend with Theresa. “She was diffusing essential oils, plying me with smoothies and let me hold the signed Led Zeppelin III album. Also, we played Settlers of Catan with her boyfriend, Hal. It was literally perfect.”
“No way to compete with that,” Betsy agrees. “Frank’s mom sounds like the coolest. How did she birth such a malcontent?”
“Solid questions, Bestie. I know Frank seems like a dick, but he’s not really.” I mean, he can act like a total dick, but he’s not. “My little Frankie is just an asshole with a heart of gold.”
“Hmm, you should remember that for when you give the speech at his wedding,” Jack comments while dipping his dragon roll in soy sauce that’s almost completely green from the copious amounts of wasabi he’s added.
“He’s getting married?” Betsy asks. “I thought he and Mikey were broken up.”
I shrug. “It’s only a matter of time before he puts a ring on it. Then I’ll be the best man, obviously, and would give the most charming, funny and sweet toast there ever was.”
“How do you know you would be his best man?” Jack asks and I’m hurt.
“Who else would it be?”
“Sebastian, Andrew, I think he’d even pick Javier over you,” Jack says and I throw a piece of ginger at his stupid face. “Did you just throw food at me?”
“I did,” I say turning in my seat to face him fully. “First of all, how dare you doubt my best friend status with Frank? Also, he’d never pick Javier. Thirdly, yes, I threw food at you, you ungrateful wretch. You were the one who mentioned the speech at his wedding.”
Jack is laughing while he peels the ginger from his cheek. “Dude, I thought they’d let you be like the ring bearer or some shit. Certainly, they wouldn’t have you make a speech, but I assume you would just take the mic at some point and embarrass yourself.” Betsy joins in the laughter and whatever, these two ganging up on me isn’t the worst thing ever.
“Both of you can bite me.” I point at both of them and try to give them a serious stare. This makes them laugh harder. “Fine, just know I’m taking this conversation into account when I plan the speech for your weddings.” I know I said it but the thought of making a speech at Betsy’s wedding and it not being mine as well is a stab to my heart.
After we are done eating, I clean up while Jack and Betsy go upstairs to play some Diablo III on his computer in his room. I retire to the hot tub because I finally am fever free and it feels so good. The door slides open violently. Betsy stomps over to me and sits on the edge of the tub, glaring at me.
She pushes my shoulder, hard and I fall over with a splash. “Jerk,” she says poking me in the shoulder and hovering over me. There’s fire in her eyes but all I want to do is pull her in the tub and kiss her. So, I do. Her surprise huff as I hold her to my lips by the back of her neck quickly turns into a sigh as she sinks in. The hand that was poking me goes to my hair and she gently pulls it. We are in a full meld of a kiss and I’m not sure how it happened but I’m happy to be here. With a big inhale she pulls back and then sits up and away from me. She is in her pj shorts and tank so she shouldn’t be too mad I pulled her into the tub.
“Too far,” I mumble and try to pull her back. She resists so I right myself and give her a questioning look because I don’t know why she is here in the hot tub calling me a jerk and then letting me kiss her. “What?”
“Why didn’t you tell me I could move back into my house?” she asks and I shrug.
“Technically you can, but why not wait until it’s almost done? We are going to be there for another month to two at least,” I say and it’s true. “You have a place to stay, your house will be noisy and filled with paint fumes. I didn’t mention it because we just finished the upstairs today, and you’d still be without a kitchen for a while. There’s no reason to mention it.”
“That’s not your choice to make. If I can be back in my own space then I want to go back.” She splashes me.
I wipe my hand down my face. “If that’s what you want, but honestly, you’ll have more privacy here with just Jack and me. Please stay here, it’s not an imposition if that’s what you’re thinking. We love having you here.” It’s true. With Jack in school and hanging more with his friends, I’ve been lonely here in this old house. She brings a warmth I can’t replicate.
“It’s too much,” she says while looking at my lips. I’d say it’s not enough. “The sleeping together, the kisses, you being you. I need a little distance.”
I move closer to her tug her braid and take a deep breath. “Do what you need to do. You do realize I’ll still be at your house all the time so there’s not that much distance.”
She smiles at me. “It will be enough. I’m going to go pack my stuff.”
“It’s almost nine, I’m sure you can wait until tomorrow.” I’m mentally begging her to jump back in.
She jumps up out of the water and claps her hands together.
“It’s not a lot of stuff and I want to get my stuff moved in in the morning. I have a brand new mattress in storage, would you mind helping me get it so I can sleep there tomorrow?”
“Sure,” I say defeated. “How did you know, by the way?”
“Don texted me picture of you napping on my floor with a wet paintbrush in your hand and said my room was ready.”
That fucker, he’s dead.