I woke up the next morning in my bed and I couldn’t remember how I got there. Jay must have helped me, I thought. A peek under the duvet confirmed that I had my clothes on. The clock radio read seven thirty-six. I got up, took off my clothes and paddled into the bathroom to shower and brush my teeth. My mouth felt like the French Foreign Legion had marched through it, barefoot, after three months in the desert.
I dressed in jeans and a blouse, which I didn’t tuck in. I put on some clean white gym socks and headed for the kitchen. The curtains above the sink were billowing straight out and I remembered that I hadn’t closed any windows the night before. I pushed the step stool over in front of the sink and climbed up. I glanced at the top of the refrigerator and happily noted that the dust bunnies I had cleaned the night before hadn’t reappeared. With my knees braced against the sink I leaned over and wrestled with the window.
I lit a cigarette while I waited for the coffee to drip through and wandered into the living room to retrieve the dirty coffee cups. The curtains in there were billowing too and it was cold. Jay’s huddled body beneath the quilt on the sofa scared the life out of me.
"Christ," I cursed out loud. I hate being scared. I crossed the room to close the doors to the balcony and noticed something orange floating on the top of the fishbowl. Oh no, I thought. Not another one. I peeked in the fishbowl hoping it wasn’t what I thought. Snapper the Fourth was doing the backstroke. I give up, I thought. I just fucking give up. I can’t keep anything alive. Imagine what I’d do to a poor dog or cat if I had it long enough.
I picked up the fishbowl to head to the bathroom for the ceremonial burial. Jay was stirring on the couch. He must be frozen, I thought. I looked at his sleeping face and felt like I was intruding. There is definitely something very personal about observing someone in their sleep. I hurried out of the living room to do the dirty deed.
This time the ceremony was shorter. I intoned a few sombre words over the toilet bowl before wishing Snapper the Fourth farewell. "Bye, bye, big buddy," I finished off. I reached for the handle to flush and heard Jay cough behind me. The toilet flushed and I blushed at getting caught. He was leaning on the doorframe with his hands in pockets. The boy leaned a lot.
"Morning," I said.
"Morning to you too." He grinned. "I hope that was leftovers you were flushing." I held up the fishbowl. "Ah, Kate. Not another one. What’s the Humane Society going to say?"
"Shut-up. I’ve given up. The goldfish of the world are safe. Kathleen Monahan will never own another one." I pushed past him into the hallway. "Clean towels are in the closet behind the door," I said over my shoulder.
I was on my second cup of coffee and third cigarette when Jay joined me. He helped himself to a mug in the cupboard over the coffee maker and sat at the table across from me. He pushed the ashtray to the side. He had the good grace, and good sense, not to comment on the number of butts in the ashtray.
"What time did I go to bed? I don’t even remember going."
"You didn’t go. I carried you and tucked you in." His grin this time had a bit of a leer to it.
"Hope you didn’t strain your back," I said.
"Right, Kate. What are you? All of a hundred pounds, soaking wet? I carried you with one hand."
"Bless you my son. No, I’m not a hundred pounds. I wish. I’m a hundred and ten. Besides, it’s rude to ask a lady her weight."
"What lady?" he joked.
"Well, was it good for you too?" I teased.
"Ooh. I almost needed a cigarette afterwards." We both laughed.
"What are you up to today?" I asked him.
"This and that. You?"
"Absolutely nothing. I cleaned the apartment last night and did the laundry. I only have to buy some groceries but that can wait until tomorrow."
"I think I’ll do some of the same. I’ve got to go into the office tomorrow to finalize some reports for Cox. I’m going for a run this morning."
He finished his coffee in one gulp and stood up. He came around to my side of the table and squatted down beside me. I turned sideways in my chair and our eyes were level. It pissed me off that he got down to what he thought was my level because I was short. It was patronizing. I pushed my chair back from the table and stood up. He put his hands on his knees and pushed himself upright. Great. Now he was towering over me. I grabbed the step-stool and jumped up on it but was still about four inches shorter. I wasn’t getting up on the counter.
"Will you cut it out?" Jay demanded. "I just wanted to say good-bye. God, you’re irritating at times."
I put my hands on my hips. "Well. Good-bye. Have a good run. See you Monday." He took a step forward and stopped about three inches from me and leaned into my face. I was sure he was going to touch his nose to mine again but he didn’t.
"Good-bye," he breathed into my face. And he kissed me. Very lightly. Very friendly. Almost brotherly. I was kidding myself. I blushed about four shades of red and purple and stepped down off the stool.
"Good-bye."
I was enjoying my Saturday afternoon, under the old quilt on my sofa racing through the novel I had started the night before. I was at a particularly hot and steamy part of the story when the phone rang. It was Didrickson telling me I was needed at the office to help the internal auditor on an urgent audit.
"What’s an urgent audit? Did someone lose a bean?" When he didn’t laugh, I realized he didn’t even have a sense of humour on the weekends.
"She’s auditing the stock option lists and needs your help pulling out back-up documentation."
"I’ll be there in half an hour." I hung up the phone and finished the chapter I was reading while I leaned up against the wall beside the phone. I carefully marked my spot in the book and pulled on my windbreaker, grabbed my purse and headed downstairs to my car. The shit’s hit the fan over the stock option lists, I thought. This should be interesting.
It proved to be a very long Saturday and ended up being a very long week. I didn’t open my book for the next ten days.