our Weeks – Episode 16 Part 1 – “Twenty Seven”
Written by J.D.Denisson.
A sequel to the movie “This is Where I Leave You”.
Characters and back story based on the novel “This is Where I Leave You” by Jonathan Tropper.
Copyright 2016 J.D.Denisson.
Previously…
The first day was full of the same words and feelings of our sessions, perhaps a little less tailored to our own personal problems. Chloe listened intently but Wade looked like he wanted to be anywhere other than there. Still, he was keeping up a brave face and maybe is new bride didn’t notice or didn’t know how he looked when he was bored or uncomfortable. I did, and maybe Quinn did too. I didn’t ask her, and I wasn’t going to.
Vows, they said, were the links – the bonds – between us. They keep us together when everything else is insecure. For better or worse. Keeping them when times are good was easy, they said, and in a way those times mean little when hard times come and you choose to keep those vows anyway, that’s when they matter. I felt Quinn’s hand close on mine and squeeze, like she was in great pain. Her eyes were closed as they said those things and I knew that she was in anguish over how she had broken hers with me. I forgive her again. I hope she is starting to forgive herself too.
…
We have lunch in the town, the two of us, and after walk into the park nearby.
“I’m sorry,” she says to me.
“I know,” I tell her.
“I can’t say it enough.”
“I know the feeling.”
“But I made promises to you and I broke them so easily.”
…
“So,” Grant says, sitting back in his chair, “any thoughts you have from the workshop? Any parts you liked or challenged you?”
Quinn nods. Takes a breath. “The talk on the vows.”
“What about them,” Mary asks her. I’d realised pretty early on how the Uptons worked. Grant was in my corner and Mary, Quinn’s. But it was not a boxing match between rivals. We fought together as a tag team, pounding the thoughts and habits and behaviours that railed against us.
“Well...” She hesitates. I squeeze her hand. We’re sitting close now and out hands are locked together. I won’t let her go and I won’t let her have pain without letting her know I’m there and I understand. I guess it will be like that when she gives birth. I’ll be there holding her hand and she’ll be squeezing mine until it goes white and purple.
“Well I remembered that I broke the vows I made to Judd. I realize just what that meant. I made some really important promises and I threw them away.” I can hear voice catch a little. “But I kept them for the better, but not the worst. I left him when I should have fought, tried to make him know I was hurting and try and fix us. And I can’t forgive myself. I know that Judd has, but I can’t.”
…
There are two dates in my future that I’m facing with a certain amount of dread. The first one I’m sure you can guess, but it’s about six months away and I’ve still got some time to prepare myself for it’s arrival. I’m not really worried about my own birthday. It falls a week after our baby is due and if she arrives on time then I’m sure that we’ll be way too busy to worry about a cake and a party. I wonder if we’ll even get out to dinner, but I think we won’t.
The day that’s coming rapidly upon me, like a month, is our anniversary. Last year we went away for a night. We said all the things that we say to each other. We professed our love without a thought. We made love as we have done for the past year, perfectly adequate, perfectly satisfying. But it was all a lie. I was emotionally detached and she was sleeping with someone else. Our words of love were hollow.
…
“Our anniversary is coming up,” I mention offhandedly. I don’t know what she thinks about this event. I know what I think.
“Yes,” she replies simply.
“I have a few ideas,” I tell her.
“Let’s not do anything big. I’ll be six and a half months then.”
“Sure.”
“But we can see a movie, have some dinner.”
“Okay.”
“Why don’t I plan something? You’ve got a lot on your schedule at the moment.”
…
“You seem tense,” Grant observes.
I guess I am. I tell him about work and not having sex and about going to see my family.
He nods slowly. “So, I want you to do something to let off steam. Going back home is a good opportunity to do that. Do something you did when you were a kid, with an old friend or one of your brothers. And do something for Quinn as well.”
“Like what?”
“You’ll think of something. Something she’d like to do, or has always wanted to do.”
…
“Do we stand a chance?” someone says behind me.
I turn and find Chloe there. She’s beautiful and young and about to get her heart smashed into a million pieces. I can see it happening before my eyes. I know what it looks like. But knowing its coming doesn’t make it any easier, it just softens the blow when it does but the pain is the same.
Perhaps she’s wiser than me, I don’t know. She can see it coming where I was clueless.
“Chloe,” I yell. “Great party.”
“Look at them. They just can’t take their eyes off each other.”
And I do. “It’s just they’ve got history, you know?”
“Maybe.”
And then she kisses me. Full on the lips.
...
Grant pulls me aside as we’re leaving.
“The things you said, they were about the things that you lost, that were taken from you. This week I want you to think about those things and put them against the things that you have gained, that you’ve been given, or given back to you. I want you to concentrate on those. Write them down if you have to and come back to them.”
Twenty seven – Part One
Monday
I’m in the control room. Wade is in the booth. We’re running commercials, the things that fill in the gaps that pay the bills. He’s drinking Gatorade and stretching. We’re about an hour in.
There’s a knock behind me and I see Chloe’s face at the window. I wave her in and I’m regretting that decision as I make it. I don’t want to talk to my boss’s wife, not after last week.
Wade sees her through the glass between our rooms and waves. She blows him a kiss and he goes back to, well doing nothing, until the ad break ends, which, thankfully is only a minute. How much trouble can I get in with that amount remaining? Quite a bit, as it turns out.
“Judd,” she says.
“Chloe,” I say back. “Sorry. We’re in the middle of the show.”
“You’re both doing nothing,” she points out.
“We’ll be back on in less than a minute.”
“Okay,” she says, “well, this won’t take long.”
“Can’t this wait until later? You’ll distract him.”
She laughs. “I hope I can keep distracting him too. But, I need to talk to you, actually.”
“Really.” My heart sinks, and starts beating wildly. It’s an odd feeling, a paradox.
“I wanted to apologise.”
“What for?” I know what for. I just don’t want to say it.
“For kissing you.”
“It was a bit more than a kiss,” I point out.
“...and the tongue. I was just trying to make him jealous.”
“How did that work out?”
“Not quite as I’d planned. He thought it was fu
nny.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Thirty seconds.
“And I’m sorry about grabbing your...”
“Don’t worry about it,” I say quickly.
“Really?”
“Yes, really. Let’s not talk about it, okay?”
“But that was wrong of me. We’re friends.”
“We are, but once again, let’s not talk about it.” Twenty seconds.
“You’re being very good about it.”
I sigh. “It’s not like it hasn’t happened before.”
“Really? Do tell.” Now she’s deliberately making me uncomfortable, and I’ve got a show to run in... fifteen seconds. Oh, god, make it stop.
“It’s a long story and I’d rather not.”
“Okay,” she says with a smile and runs a hand along my shoulder. I look through the window at Wade and he’s grinning like a fool.
“Screw you,” I say to Wade though my microphone. Ten seconds.
“Have a good day,” she tells me as she goes through the door. Five seconds.
I bang the palm of my hand, the one that is still recovering from punching Wade in the face, against my forehead. I’m enjoying the exquisite agony as we go back on air.
I pull up in front of Quinn’s building at a little after five. She’s waiting for me, standing there in the spot where I kissed her three months ago, where she says I rescued her. She’s six and a half months this week and she’s really starting to show. She’s radiant and hormonal and sexy and I just want to love her until there is nothing left of me. I get out, leaving my car double parked. People are riding their horns but I couldn’t give a damn. They can wait. And, even when it’s obvious I’m helping a pregnant woman they still blast their horns with abandon. I want to flip them my middle finger, but people these days get shot for that sort of display. I get