Oliver
THE LAST HOUR of the red eye back to New York is tough, and it’s my own fault. I didn’t want the flight attendant to lift Stori’s heavy carry-on into the overhead compartment, even though she makes that move dozens of times a day. So I “helped” her, and pulled something in my wrist in the process. My painting hand is throbbing. Idiot.
I’m stuck to the seat. Passengers have begun raising window shades, and it’s hard to ignore the bright sunlight streaming into the cabin. But I try, with eyes closed. Stori’s tucked under my arm, which has been numb for the last half hour. A minute ago she was snoring. Not loudly, more like a kitten in a deep sleep. Kind of adorable. But then I’m biased. I’d probably applaud if she accidentally farted.
“Want me to just touch it?” Her voice breaks the silence.
Now I’m awake. I untangle my arm and sit up. Bed head on her looks sexy, with one wayward strand of long hair pressed against a cheek. I gently move it away and kiss her lips.
“Morning. You were snoring. Does this mean the honeymoon’s over?”
She pokes a finger in my bicep. “I don’t snore.” She says, mounting a fake protest.
“You definitely do, princess. And to answer your question, I always want you to touch it.”
When I pretend to go for my zipper she stops me with a side eye glance at the nosy kid across from us. He’s standing on his seat, taking in the other Premier Class flyers. I remind myself never to dress my son in a sailor suit. No nautical theme whatsoever. Without provocation, he sticks his tongue out at me. Little shit. Pint sized cock blocker.
We’re already on our descent into La Guardia, otherwise I’d take her up on her offer. She was kidding, but she shouldn’t poke the bear.
“So, what’s the plan?” I say.
“About what?”
“Where’re we sleeping tonight? My bed or yours?”
I’m not about to go back to sleeping without her. She doesn’t answer at first, but she’s smiling so I’m encouraged. Then she leans in so only I can hear.
“We do have the rest of today and tonight before our vacation officially ends.”
“And I’m not cutting it short.”
“Come to my place. I want to show you something special,” she says with a mysterious grin.
“I’ve already seen your pussy,” I whisper in her ear.
I love the sound of her laugh. It makes me want to kiss her.
“How do you feel about dogs?” I say, picking the right moment to approach the subject.
“That’s about the most random question I’ve ever heard.”
Grabbing her purse, she rummages through and finds her brush.
“Not really. I told you about Louise, right?”
“Yeah. Your friend Prue’s been taking care of her.”
“Let me do that,” I say.
She turns her back to me and hands me the brush. I used to do this when we were in high school. We both like it.
“I need to stop at my place. I want to grab the mail and check things before we go to your apartment. “
“Sure.”
“Prue brought the dog back this morning. I’d like to take her with me for the night. Just this one time. I don’t want to leave her alone, she has abandonment issues.”
I’m only half joking, as I state my case in one quick plea.
There’s no hesitation when she says, “Of course she’s welcome. I want to meet my competition.”
“You’re gonna love her. I like her better than fifty percent of the people I know.”
“That’s not true!”
“Okay, sixty percent.”
The Attendant’s voice comes over the speaker. Tray tables and seats back to the upright position. Arrivederci, paradise.
When we landed, Air France took care of us like we were the CEO’s family. It didn’t matter that they were about to get rid of us. We were transported out of the terminal to the pickup area, where the luggage was delivered within minutes. Our ride back to Manhattan was there too. Same guy that brought me. Fig and Zarah thought of every detail down to the last minutes of the trip. Mimosas and an assortment of breakfast rolls awaited us for the ride home. And a note from the newlyweds.
Dear Friends,
Remember to unpack the magic you found in France and Italy. If you haven’t succumbed to Fucking Fever by the time we return, let’s plan a night out. You two are meant. Zarah &Fig
Stori folds the note and puts it in her purse. She notices me watching.
“I’m sentimental,” she explains.
“Maybe I want to save the note,” I say with a straight face.
For a few beats she thinks I’m serious. I can almost see the wheels working in her mind. I can’t hold my expression any longer.
“I love that you think that’s a possibility, but I don’t want the note. You keep it for us.” I chuckle.
I’m rewarded with her lovely smile.
“Take us to her apartment first. Then we’ll be going to mine,” I say to the driver.
“Yes, sir.”
Stori gets her cell and starts checking phone messages, fingers moving like wild fire.
“I guess I should do that too,” I say, retrieving my phone from my pocket
She gets this puzzled expression on her face as she reads her screen.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“I think so. My father wants me to call him tonight before he goes to the bar. He has some news I might be interested in.”
“Why is that odd?”
“Because he’s been absolutely silent for a week, and my time away from Whiskey River isn’t over. If you knew how often he pushed me to take some time to myself, you’d understand.”
“I always liked Henry. Now I like him even more.”
She returns her cell to her purse as I scroll hrough my calls and texts.
“Shit.”
“What?” She says.
“I’ve got a stupid amount of mail and texts from Piper. Look at this.”
I angle the phone so she can see. Her eyebrows knit together as I delete the whole lot of them.
“What did she want? All those caps and exclamation points looked serious. She was yelling at you.”
“Don’t know, don’t care. I’m off the clock.”
“Haven’t you looked through those before now?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I was cruising the French Riviera.”
“But what if there was something important?”
“Everything’s important to Piper. I told her I was unavailable for a certain number of days and she agreed to it. I’ll call her tomorrow.”
She responds with raised eyebrows and tilt of her head that tells me she thinks I’m making a mistake. Hmmm. For the rest of the ride she answers mail and makes her calls, proving opposites attract. I find her drive appealing. She’s into the details and the business of owning a club. My drive shows up in different ways. It’s all on the canvas, and in the studio. I hate the business of art. I only love the making of it. And one week with Stori has shown me it’s about to get harder for me to dedicate every moment of my days and nights to Piper. I’ll live up to our agreement but there’s got be room for my personal life. Piper’s going to blow a gasket when I call her. Her problem, not mine.
As soon as we come around the corner I see the black Mercedes parked in front of my apartment.
“She’s here.”
Stori leans forward and takes in the scene. “Piper?”
“Yeah.”
“You should have called her.”
I don’t respond because I might say something I regret. I love the woman but I don’t need her to be giving me tips on how to handle my career. In return I won’t tell her how she should run Whisky River. As soon as the thought crosses my mind I’m glad I didn’t express it. Maybe it’s a little harsh and impulsive.
We pull over and Piper’s door opens before mine does. Stepping out with Hercules under one arm, she looks pissed off. What’s she wearing? She looks like a cross-dressing jester, stripped pantaloon pants with white stockings, sky high red heels.
“Ohhh, look at her face, you’re in trouble,” Stori says.
“Should I get the luggage?” the driver asks.
“No. Wait till I talk with her.”
I open the door and purposely take my time getting out. I’m sure Piper has no idea there’s another passenger, because the windows are tinted.
“I’ve had it with you, Oliver. Why didn’t you answer my calls? Let alone the texts!”
I have no patience for angry Piper. It brings out angry Oliver. Instead of answering her, I reach my uninjured hand back inside to help Stori out.
“Thanks for asking. It was great.”
I watch Piper’s face change from anger to surprise then back to anger as Stori exits the car.
“What’s wrong with your right hand?” Piper asks.
“I pulled something picking up some luggage. You remember Stori, right?”
“Hello, Piper,” Stori says brightly.
“Hello,” she says without looking Stori in the eyes.
“You hurt your painting hand?”
“I just said I did. So, what’s the crisis?”.
“I need to speak with you. Alone.”
“Well as you can see, I’ve got company. You’re welcome to come in and join us though.”
Stori touches my arm, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Piper. “I can just let you talk alone. No problem.”
“No. Absolutely not.” I lock eyes with Piper. “Would you like to come up?”
There’s a look on Piper’s face that’s kind of chilling. Like in a movie when the serial killer spots his next victim. Her cold stare shoots right through me. She turns to Stori.
“He’s making a serious mistake. I assume you want the best for him. But he’s just about to miss the brass ring. Is it because of you?”
My entire body tingles with rage.
“What the fuck! I’m not twelve and she’s not my mother. Neither are you!” I yell.
Stori’s hand settles on my arm but I pull away and walk to Piper. She lifts her chin in defiance. I don’t try to calm myself. I let her have it.
“Don’t embarrass yourself. You’re acting like an ass. This has nothing to do with anyone else but you and me. We had an agreement. You knew exactly how long I’d be unavailable. Don’t pretend I kept that from you. Whatever went down while I’ve been gone we can talk about when I return tomorrow. And next time you talk to my girlfriend I expect you to apologize for your rude behavior.”
She’s unusually calm, which throws me. One arched eyebrow lifts, accompanied by a cocky smile. Hercules looks as if he’s trying to warn me with his unblinking stare. Piper turns on her red heels and gets into the car. There’s no goodbyes. The sedan drives off.
“That was interesting,” Stori says.
I don’t answer because I’m still fucking pissed. The driver has decided it’s safe to unload the luggage. He gets to it.
“What number are you?” he asks. “I’ll bring the luggage up.”
“7B. Just mine, and you can leave the carry-on, “I say.
Thankfully Stori follows my lead and leaves the subject where it lays.
“Think Louise is going to be excited?” she says, attempting to calm me I’m sure.
Okay, let’s talk about the dog. That’ll simmer me down.
“She’s got a sixth sense when it comes to me. She’s probably listening for my footsteps right now.”
We enter the building and wait for the driver. For the first time since we left New York, we behave ourselves in an elevator. I’m still rolling my conversation with Piper around in my mind. When I look at Stori I know she’s thinking about it too.
As we approach the door Louise is sounding her welcome home bark. I use my key, but before we go any further I warn Stori.
“She’s going to be all over us. Are you ready?”
“Go for it.”
I swing the door open and the little beast is on us, jumping, barking, and generally letting us know how glad she is we’re here.
“Hello, girl!! I missed you!”
“Hey, little one! Oh, she’s adorable, Oliver.”
I bend down and pick her up in my arms. I’m rewarded with the pure love of dog kisses. Her legs are kicking against my torso, nails digging in as she tries to climb and claim me. When she’s sure I understand her intentions, she bends her head toward our visitor for a head scratch.
“Hi, Louise! You’re a beautiful girl.”
She puts out her arms to take my furry friend from me. It’s a love fest. Louise has found a new pal. I pick up the pile of advertisements and bills and art supply catalogs Prue left on the kitchen counter. Stori takes in my apartment. Her eyes scan the room, and I wonder if she’s figured out nothing here is of my choosing.
“I’m surprised you don’t have any of your work hanging. Where’s some of that beautiful art?”
“At the studio. Some of my favorites are still at my old place.”
“You kept your apartment?”
“It’s not exactly an apartment. More like a hovel. But I don’t think I’ll ever let it go.”
“I’d love to see it. This place looks nothing like your personality. It’s really nice, but I don’t see you here.”
“Very perceptive. This is all Piper. She uses it for the artists she mentors.”
“Now it makes sense. It’s a temporary way station.”
“Now that I don’t have to live there, my old place has become kind of charming in a shanty kind of way. Why don’t you come with me this week and we can go see my parents and Gracie?”
“Won’t they be surprised about you and I.”
“I don’t think so. As soon as they heard you were going on the cruise they got that look in their eyes. They’re going to be happy.”
She brings Louise over and kisses me. My jealous girl pushes her way in for her own loving.
“Don’t worry, there’s enough for us both,” Stori says.