Chapter Twenty-Nine
Jason
I went across the room to grab a shirt. The apartment had come with a tiny closet that hardly fit half my stuff. I had had to get a clothing rack for the rest. I got a t-shirt off a hanger and put it on before going back across the room to Shelby. She had caught me coming right out of the shower. She had knocked just as I had come out. I hadn't been expecting her; I was still kind of shocked that she had shown up. Over the past week, I had learned to keep my expectations low since the disaster with the pictures. She had told me she wasn't interested in hearing shit from me earlier this week, so I hadn't told her anything, nothing about the pictures at least.
I had been talking to her, but it had all been one-sided. It was going to be one-sided now too since she apparently still had nothing to say to me; she just wanted to let me explain. She scooted to one end of the couch when I came back and sat down, facing her. The bed was right across the room; I would have rather been over there with her than here. I didn't want to scare her off, but it was true. She wanted an adult, which was what Lake kept telling me. The shirt had been to make her more comfortable. Honestly, if I had had the choice, we wouldn't be talking: we'd be on my bed making up for lost time.
"So?" she said.
"Before I start, I'm sorry."
"For something you're about to say to me?"
"No, that you had to see anything at all," I said. She nodded, urging me to continue.
"It was last Thursday night. I was back in L.A., excited to see you and Damien again. When I had been gone, I had been planning to ask you whether we could move in together. I had thought that you would want to since things had been going well. That had been a bad move. I see that now."
"That's good to hear," she said flatly.
"I understand now, but at the time I had been mad. Seeing you walk out of the restaurant with Damien, I just lost it. I felt like you were punishing me for wanting to be with you. Like you should have said yes. I know that I was wrong—” I added, seeing her about to object. "But right then, I had just wanted to forget that it had happened, that I had fucked up that bad after all the progress we had been making together. I left the restaurant and went to find a friend of mine, Lake."
"Do you have many friends in L.A.?" she asked.
"No," I said hastily, in case she thought I was trying to make getting drunk a habit. "My friend, Lake, we've known each other since we were in college. I wanted to talk to someone. It turned out; he had been at a club that night, at a private party. I had found him there, and that was when we met those women. I didn't know them. I still don't. They were trying to get my attention, but I shook them off. Later in the night though, after one too many, they found their way back to our booth and that must have been when the pictures had been shot." She was listening attentively, but her face wasn't giving away any clues to what she was thinking. I kept going.
"I had a lot to drink, too much, but those women? I wanted nothing to do with them. I was angry, and I was drunk, but after talking to Lake, I understood why you had said no to me. I had overstepped my boundaries making plans for us to live together before speaking to you. After all that, I took a cab back to the hotel and woke up with a splitting headache." She sighed and looked down at her hands, which were in her lap. That was it. She had finally let me explain myself; the ball was back in her court.
I wished I never even had to explain myself. I got it now, how I had made a mistake, but would it had killed her to be happy about moving in together? That had been part of it too, realizing in that way that we hadn't been on the same page like I had thought that we were. That had been part of the reason why I had been mad. I had thought we had been doing better than we apparently had been. Telling her that would have sent her right back out the door though. I still should have said something. I had seen it with my parents. It was like they talked telepathically, they were so in tune with each other. I guess I didn't know Shelby well enough yet to be on that level with her, which made sense, but I wished she didn't need as much time as she seemed to. I didn't know what else I could do to convince her and waiting... it was hard.
"Thanks for telling me. I should have let you say something earlier."
"What did you think the truth was?"
"I had thought everything, everything you could imagine," she said, looking at me. "To be honest, I had been bracing myself for the worst." I scoffed. I had a lot of work to do. Obviously, the explanation had just been the beginning. It was going to take some time to win her back.
"I was mad, but I wouldn't have resorted to that just to spite you, Shel." She looked at me, and she kind of looked a little different since I had seen her last. Not bad different. More like tired. She had just gotten off of work so that might have had something to do with it. I wanted to ask her, but I didn't know whether she'd take it the wrong way.
"Thanks," she said, glancing down at her hands again.
"What about you?"
"What about me?"
"I haven't talked to you in a little while; how has everything been? Work?"
"Fine, everything's been okay. Damien's okay too." That had been my next question. I hadn't seen him in a little while either, and it had sucked.
"That's good to hear."
"I guess. Nothing's really changed for me since we last talked. You got a new apartment," she said. "Well, about half of one."
"Ha-ha," I said drily.
"Were you looking long?"
"No. I didn't want to live out of a hotel anymore, so I took this place the minute it became available."
"A little tight in here, don't you think? You owned your place in Tribeca, right? What did you end up doing with that?" She was teasing me then.
"It's small, but size matters less than what you can do with it," I said, making her giggle slightly. "I've been here a few days, and I don't have any complaints."
"None?" she asked, not believing me.
"Not really. It’s small, sure, but I don't have a lot of stuff. It's interesting how little I actually need after all."
"Wow," she said. "You came to L.A., the land of celebrity, and it turned you into a minimalist?"
"Nope, you taught me that."
"Me? When? How?"
"When you said my job at WRTC fed into my ego too much," I explained. "Thanks. I needed that." She shrugged and said I was welcome since she had apparently taught me something. I held back. All the big changes that had happened in my life had been because of her. I wouldn't have quit, moved here, started writing, anything if she hadn't been there as a catalyst. My feelings for her… I didn’t even know what to call it. She had given me so much, and she didn’t even know it. Not just Damien. I felt like I had direction now. I hadn’t felt lost before, working at WRTC, but I hadn’t been going anywhere. What would I get year after year? More fame? More screen time? For what? I had actually had to try lately, not just doing something that came naturally to me. That was priceless, and it was because of her. I'd tell her but not just yet. She hadn't come to hear that, but I did want her to stay.
"Can I ask you something?" I asked.
"Sure."
"Where were you last weekend?" She looked down, smiling wryly.
"My mom's. She lives in Napa. I went to see her. Damien and I didn't make it up there for Christmas, so I just thought it would be good to see her." She had mentioned in conversation briefly that her parents lived in Northern California. Lucky, I thought, that they were so close.
"Must have been nice."
"A little cooler than L.A. this time of year, but yeah. My mom and stepdad love Damien too, so it worked out."
"They must have been glad to see you." She looked at me.
"After the dinner, then the thing with the pictures, I wanted to get away. I... I didn't want to be in the house where I knew you could drop by." I kept my face steady so she couldn't tell how much that hurt.
"Did you think... are you scared of me?"
"No," she said, shaking her head. "I was angry. I was jealous, and right then, I was bent on being mad at you. I ran," she admitted. "I shouldn't have. I should have at least told you something. I know you came to the house. I wasn't thinking about what you would have felt, especially since I had taken Damien. It was selfish. I'm sorry for disappearing like that."
"Just tell me next time," I said, trying to keep the strain out of my voice. She had run away from me before, coming to L.A. after our first night together. Was this just the way it was going to be with us? So how much before she left and just didn’t come back? She did this time but how many were left? Our eyes met, and I held her gaze for a few seconds. She looked away first.
"I should head back home. I asked Damien's sitter to stay with him while I was gone. I don't want to keep her too long," she said.
"You said he's doing good?"
"Great. He’s putting things in his mouth a lot more lately, I think that means he’s about to start teething."
"Already? I didn't know you could do it this early."
"Some babies develop a little faster than others, I guess," she said. She stood. "Thanks for talking to me. I have a lot to think about. I'll head out." Teeth? Already? He wasn't too small for that? Not that I knew anything about kids, but he was little. Had it been that long? This baby thing was a trip. I wanted her to keep talking, but I knew better to try to keep her when she didn't want to stay.
"Can I call you?"
"You've been calling me every day, Jason."
"Will you pick up now?" I asked. She paused before she nodded.
"Yes. I'll pick the phone up if you call me." She walked towards the door, and I followed her.
"One last thing."
"What?" she asked, turning.
"When can I see Damien again?" She smiled slightly.
"When you call me, we can figure something out."