Chapter Nine
WILL
Fifteen months ago
Will: Chicago. Second Friday in November.
Shannon: That’s where you’ll be masturbating to Katy Perry videos and crying into your Muscle Milk?
Will: Putting up with your shit requires conditioning. I should be hitting the weights harder just to prepare myself for you
Shannon: Mmm. Best wishes.
Shannon: Oh and when did you put your number in my phone?
Will: While you were in the shower with your little helper
Shannon: Can we stop talking about the shower yet?
Will: That was a religious experience for me. It was better than surfing at sunrise.
Shannon: I don’t know what to do with that information
Will: While you contemplate it, go lock your doors
Shannon: I live in a very secure building, and before you remind me that you got in, I’ll remind you that you’re not the average criminal
Will: Lock your fucking doors or I’m sending one of my guys to do it for you
*
Will: Hey. What’s instagram
Shannon: Is that a serious question?
Will: No, I’m just testing you to see if you can summarize things on demand. It’s on my checklist, right after “Uses shower heads but gets very dirty”
Will: Of course it’s a serious question! Answer me.
Shannon: You are a douche waffle.
Will: I thought we agreed on lawyer-fucking meathead…
Shannon: Bad things happen when you bring up the showerhead…
Will: I’m authentically curious about this instagram thing. My mother keeps sending me emails about her travel blog having a “super huge IG following” – direct Judy quote, btw – and telling me to get on it
Shannon: It’s a photo sharing app. Selfies, pets, kids, food, landscapes.
Shannon: What’s the story with the blog? Matt’s always sharing it on Facebook
Will: Sigh.
Will: When my parents retired, they decided to travel. National parks and all that shit. No surprise to anyone, my mother was bored off her ass within 15 minutes.
Will: She was a navy medic, served in Kuwait, nurse on base until a few years ago. You get the picture. Always busy.
Will: She figures we all need to share in these travels, and starts taking an actual fuck ton of pictures. Lo introduces her to a blogging site. Instead of emailing the fuck ton, she’s posting it.
Will: Joke’s on us because people like this shit. She’s got paid advertisements and product placement now, and a “super huge IG following” but she guilts the fuck out of us if we don’t read and tell her how great it is, and believe me, it’s actually really fucking awesome and I’m happy for her
Will: But holy fuck, who can keep up with all those posts?
Shannon: Do you even have any social media accounts?
Will: No. that shit’s terrible for opsec
Shannon: For what?
Will: Operational security. It’s not smart to publicize where I am or what I’m doing.
Shannon: Right. ok.
*
Shannon: So I read the blog. Entire hours of my day—gone.
Shannon: Your mom is adorable. I knew she was when I met her at the wedding, but she is too fucking adorable for life.
Shannon: She has all these sassy things to say and there are all these little inside jokes. And her photos are amazing
Shannon: I love how she refers to your dad as the Commodore
Will: That’s no term of endearment. That’s what he wants to be called.
Will: Like that episode of Seinfeld, with The Maestro
Shannon: Even better!
Will: Did you notice Sailor 1 and Sailor 2? We don’t come up much
Shannon: And why would you? It’s not like you read the blog
Will: Watch it, peanut.
Shannon: It’s just so adorable! She refers to Matt and Lauren as Mr. and Mrs. Honey. Too much cuteness.
Will: Yeah she’s pretty great
Will: She’d like you.
Shannon: Yeah?
Will: Totally. She loves stone cold bitches with hearts of gold.
*
Shannon: Invade any sovereign nations today?
Will: Why are you awake right now? It’s the middle of the night
Shannon: It bears noting that you are also awake.
Will: No. I can respond to texts while I sleep.
Will: Commando tactic.
Shannon: Hilarious
Will: Seriously. Why are you up?
Shannon: Had a lot of coffee today.
Will: Yeah?
Shannon: The pumpkin spice latte has returned for fall. I’m a fan.
Will: And now you could run to Ohio and back?
Shannon: Pretty much
Shannon: I’ve been thinking about going jogging.
Will: Please don’t
Shannon: Is this where you get all patronizing and tell me that girls should stick with their pilates and zumba? Don’t trouble yourself with that. I run every morning, to and from spin or barre class. I’ve finished the last six Boston Marathons. I don’t need any advice from a penis, thanks.
Will: It’s 2:21 a.m. I get that you’re tough as fuck but I wouldn’t even jog at 2:21 a.m.
Will: And if my penis is giving advice, it’s saying “come to North Carolina and put your mouth on me”
Shannon: How is it any different from jogging to the gym at 4:30?
Will: Common sense?
Will: Sunlight?
Will: How about the fact most psychopaths decide to pack it in by then? And the feral animal quotient goes down too.
Shannon: Pfft. I can handle that shit.
Will: Yes, Shannon. I’m certain that stray dogs and fisher cats make it their job to stay the fuck away from you.
Shannon: Oh yeah. It’s a redhead thing.
Will: Ok so you run marathons and drink too much coffee. Tell me something else about you.
Will: Since you’re awake
Shannon: Quid pro quo, commando.
Will: You know, pulling out the Latin at this hour is kind of like using trigonometry during beer pong. Don’t be that guy.
Shannon: Yeah. Being chased by a fisher cat would be soooo much more entertaining than this
Will: I’ve never seen Titanic. Not a fan of romanticized shipwreck.
Shannon: Do I need to define quid pro quo for you? Or are you just giving me lame shit to work with?
Will: You need to calm down.
Shannon: Has no one told you that telling a woman to calm down is like trying to baptize a cat?
Will: If cats weren’t assholes, it wouldn’t be that difficult
Will: And if you’ll calm your tits, I’ll tell you something
Shannon: Spare me the suspense.
Will: I had a double major. Art history and finance.
Shannon: Is that so? Did you always want to be Charlotte York from Sex and the City when you grew up?
Will: Do you ever take a break from ripping assholes?
Shannon: Nope. I have bullshit to call and standards to enforce.
Will: Now tell me something else
Shannon: I once dated a guy who always carried a tin of sardines with him. He kept them in his shirt pocket and ate them before meals. Like an appetizer
Will: Nope. Not weird at all
Shannon: I have a track record with the weird and weirder
Will: I’m not weird.
Shannon: You are the weirdest
Will: Mmm I think you are. In a hot way.
Shannon: Fuck you
Will: You have no idea how much I’d love to
Shannon: Yeah? Maybe you should call me. Tell me.
*
Fourteen months ago
The rational part of me knew this game of insult-foreplay Shannon and I were playing was getting out of hand when it transcended secret weekends and snark-filled texts. The irrational part of me—the one that served at the pleasure of my cock—couldn’t get enough. It started with wanting to hear her hurl obscenities at me rather than reading them over text messages, and it turned into me detailing how I’d fuck her if I was there.
Short answer: thoroughly.
Another time, I caught her while she was reviewing financial statements, and in some very strange, very desperate turn of events, my pathetic ass demanded she tell me about them. She did…in the sexiest voice conceivable. Thank God I wasn’t sharing a bunk with anyone that night because I came like a geyser when she started talking about cash flow and asset ratios.
Soon, it turned into talking her through an orgasm that I ached to taste plus odd details about our days, or her critique of Judd Apatow films or my reminders to lock her doors. I learned she ate brunch with my sister most Saturdays after they visited the farmers’ market, and she only watched reruns because she found it too time-consuming to keep up with new programs. She was handling an exclusive remodeling project for a musician, or as she preferred to call it, her classified mission.
She heard about my near-religious reverence for fish tacos and college football. She knew I technically lived with my parents in Coronado, in the cozy blue bungalow they bought almost forty years ago when the only things on the island were the Hotel Del and the naval amphibious base.
We still gave each other a ton of shit all the time but…I missed her when we didn’t connect.
*
Will: True story – my brother had drinks with your sister today
Will: In Italy
Shannon: Run that by me again
Shannon: My sister, Erin?
Will: And my brother, Wes
Will: Apparently, they know a lot of the same places overseas, and were in the same area. They’re hanging out now
Shannon: That’s Erin. Making friends everywhere she goes
Shannon: You’re sure he’s gay?
Will: Positive.
Will: She gave him a tour of a volcano.
Shannon: That’s special.
Will: He seemed to think so. She took him to an old school mafia speakeasy where, says Wes, they treat her like family
Will: Or whatever the Italian equivalent of a speakeasy is
Will: Maybe they were at a mafia den, and if that’s the case, we should talk about whether your sister is actually deep cover foreign intelligence
Shannon: She is so odd
Will: Odd is one way to put it
Will: Is there a short explanation on the odd?
Will: I’m game for the long explanation too
Shannon: there’s a thing. I don’t want to talk about it
Will: A thing?
Will: Did you kill a guy in Reno?
Shannon: Something along those lines.
Will: But you don’t talk anymore. You and Erin.
Shannon: No
Will: Stretch that out for me
Shannon: Nooooooo
Will: You’re fucking comedy, peanut.
Shannon: I’m not getting into it with you. Stuff happened, things were said. She’s happiest when I’m not part of her life.
Will: So the cone of silence is her choice?
Shannon: I’m not getting into this with you.
Will: On a scale of chicken on a bone to that C word you dislike so much, where does this fall?
Will: Still there?
Will: Ok so it’s up there. Understood.
*
Will: You know, your blowjobs have ruined me
Shannon: …are you drunk?
Will: No. Nostalgic.
Shannon: While also being drunk?
Will: No.
Will: But I am thinking about your mouth on my cock
Shannon: Seems unwise
Will: Trust me, so unwise.
Shannon: You know what’s amusing about your balls?
Will: Amusing?
Will: I don’t think amusing is the word I’d go with, but please, share.
Shannon: They’re aging well. They’re in good shape for an old man like you. They haven’t given up yet. You know, all those white hairs make it a distinguished dick. Like George Clooney.
Will: Come on. You say that to all the boys.
Shannon: Erroneous
Shannon: Are you thinking about my mouth on your balls now?
Will: Nah, I’m not into that
Shannon: And how do you know I’m not?
Will: I know how freaky you are
Shannon: Oohhhh so you know me now? Like, you understand my wants, desires, and dreams?
Shannon: Be honest: are you actually a fortuneteller? Instead of reading palms, you read pussy? Is that a commando tactic?
Will: Dudes are exactly as freaky as their women let them be.
Shannon: Don’t intend to alarm you or anything, but I’m not your woman.
Will: Ahhhhh peanut. You have ruined me.
*
Shannon: This Chicago thing isn’t going to happen
Will: Cute
Shannon: Excuse me?
Will: I find that statement cute. Like unicorns and fairies and other imaginary bullshit
Will: Explain to me why this isn’t going to happen
Shannon: I’m slammed with work for a new project. I’m dealing with a high-maintenance owner who happens to have his own PR squad and as luck would have it, they’re even more high maintenance than he is. I spend 80% of my day on the phone with these ass-lickers
Will: Fuck that noise
Shannon: Believe me. I’ve tried.
Shannon: Plus – Sam is getting an award for one of his restorations this weekend
Will: Bravo to Sam
Will: I’ll see you Friday
Will: And don’t pack any panties, unless you want to spend the entire weekend handing them over