I Love My Side of the Story Page 5

  I yelp and sitting down to grab a cream cheese-covered bagel, I take a big bite. So yummy. “I have to get a coffee machine or something. Buying coffee out all the time is costing a fortune.”

  “Meh. It’s a nice way to start the day. Around people, you know.” He shrugs, shoving the last chunk of bagel in his mouth. “I’m gonna make another one. You want one?” He says, mouth full and gets up.

  “No, thanks. One’s fine for me. I’m tiny.”

  “Yeah, you are. Tiny and tight.”

  “Josh!” I throw an apple slice at him playfully. He catches it easily through the ‘window’ that divides our living room and kitchen. As he puts the new bagel in the toaster, I look around and see he’s stuck my flower arrangement on the floor next to the TV, kind of tucked away. Odd. I don’t say anything, though. I’m not stupid.

  My phone rings from where it’s plugged into the kitchen wall. Josh looks down at it and says, “Wow. So wild.” His voice is a combination of many feelings as he finishes, “Amber - Spike Jonze is calling.”

  I toss the remainder of my bagel on the plate and jump up to answer it, thinking what shitty timing.

  “He’s calling on a Saturday. Huh.” I smile reassuringly to Josh and he just nods, raises his eyebrows and leans his hip against the counter, watching me unplug the phone to answer, “Spike? Hi! Sorry, my phone was in the other room. Uh huh… Oh. Really? Oh, that’s too bad… Yeah… Okay. Of course. Please let me know as soon as it’s back on again.” I shake my head to Josh. He frowns, waiting. “Okay, thanks. Have a great weekend. Oh, I’d love that. Okay, bye.” I look at the phone, processing what just happened, and see a text from Jess has come through. It reads: So, how’s the cohabitation going? ;)

  “What’s up?” Josh asks. The bagel pops up in the toaster, ignored.

  “The film’s funding fell through. Casting is stopped until new investors come on board. Auditions have been cancelled.” I bite my lip and look at my phone like the answers are in it. “As has my job.”

  “Well, that doesn’t mean you’re out for casting for the film when it starts up again?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. You never know what will happen with these things. Maybe the new investors will have a casting director they always use, blah blah blah. You never know.”

  “Oh baby. Amber. I’m sorry. That sucks.” He walks to me and gives me a hug.

  “It’s okay,” I say, despite the fact that it’s not. “It’ll all work out the way it’s supposed to.”

  “It will,” he nods. I shrug again in an effort to shake it off.

  “Yeah. I go with the flow, you know. That’s how I roll.” I joke.

  “It is, huh? That’s how you roll?” He mocks me in a cute teasing way.

  “That’s how I roll,” I repeat, and stick my tongue out at him.

  “Give me that,” he says and comes after my tongue with his own, kissing me and lifting me off my feet to carry me out of the kitchen with my legs dangling. I throw my arms around his neck and hang on, kissing him back as he carries me into the bedroom.

  Lowering me onto the bed, he peels off my shorts and when I raise my arms, my tank top comes off, too. His shorts vanish quickly too, and he is on me, the weight of him comforting me. I can’t help but feel he’s relieved the film is gone. No more Jake, no more strain between us. When my mouth touches Josh’s, I close my eyes and force away the thought that I have to look for work again. As he pins my arms, our fingers intertwine and spread out from our bodies, he slides the full size and strength of his hardness into me. With the deep penetration of love that I feel from him, I throw away my concerns and return his feverish kisses. When the heaviness of his body presses into of me, locks me onto the bed, bare skin to bare skin as we move together. When he slides, pushes, and rocks in and out of me, pausing to suspend and prolong our pleasure, I feel that we belong here, joined like this, forever. We moan together and he catches my mouth in his for a fiery kiss, again and again. I feel him get harder, fully engorged and ready to blow, to splash inside me, so I close my eyes and grip his hands tighter. I am bound to him, by him. I arch my back and head, enjoying the pulsing inside me. The jerking of his orgasm doubles then triples my pleasure and I follow with waves of climax that almost hurt they’re so good. He releases my hands, kisses my eyelids, my neck, my earlobe. I wrap my arms around him and hold on tight. As we lie together, gasping for breath, there is nothing… but Josh and me.

  A Tuesday Night – Early Summer

  The Night David Dumped Jessica

  “Honey, I just think you could be a little more proactive, that’s all,” I say as I hand-wash a pot in the sink, doing my best not to get suds on my favorite silk summer dress. I wore this because Josh complimented me in it once, and I was hoping that he’d see it and jump my bones. No such luck. We’re having a bit of dry patch lately – okay for weeks now – and I don’t know why. It may be because since the commercial, he’s not booked anything, even though I keep suggesting there is more he can do to get himself out there.

  “I had two auditions this week, Amber,” he calls from the couch where he sits with his laptop opened up to something inane on YouTube.

  I almost sing, in an effort to not sound bitchy, “Do you think maybe you could help me with the dishes?”

  He strains his head to see over the island and slouches back down saying, “You’re almost done.”

  Oh man. I am almost done, but that’s not the point. I’m self-sufficient but this is nuts-town. Right after he moved in, he’d wash the big pots. Then he’d just dry them. I washed them first, because he’d let them sit for days if I left them. He’d empty the dishwasher, but then less and less often. I didn’t notice he’d stopped until five nights in a row came with no help... me doing all the work. I’m such a cleaner that it didn’t occur to me I was all alone in this venture.

  It took less time to realize sex was dwindling. That I noticed right a-fucking-way because when you go to bed with your new live-in boyfriend who used to jump your bones every single night… and you only see his back, and moans are replaced by snores, you know you have a problem. He likes to say he’s too tired, when I ask him about it. Tired from what, I don’t know.

  “You haven’t asked me about the job I’m working on,” I say.

  “What job are you working on?” he repeats like a parrot. I think he just mocked my voice a little.

  I choose to ignore the voice-mock. Maybe I imagined it. “They brought me in to cast a pilot. It’s a rough job...everyone speaks Spanish. It’s for Telemundo. Do you speak Spanish? I’ve never asked you.”

  “Nope.” He didn’t even look up when he said that. We both know he doesn’t speak Spanish. But I’m not screwing myself, like I did with that film. I want him to screw me, and sometime this century. My body is screaming at me daily, and I just pat myself down. Over and over. With my bittersweet vibrator.

  I rinse off the final pot and call out, “Me neither, but Annie has a friend who’s fluent so we’ve added her to the budget. She’s been amazing. Such a cute girl, and such a hard worker.”

  “Unlike me, you mean,” he mutters.

  I jolt and splash myself all over the front of my dress. Well, so much for looking good. Grabbing a towel and wiping furiously I shoot out, “That’s not what I meant, Josh.”

  “Sure it is,” he says flatly, head down. It’s like I’m dealing with a teenager!!

  “You know what? I don’t know what is going on with you, but I don’t like being talked to like this. Especially when I’m over here cleaning your mess!” I storm out of the kitchen, past him and into the hallway. Oh my God. I’m his mother.

  “Amber!”

  I flip around and see him standing there. I’m surprised the laptop isn’t stuck to his pants, fused permanently! I motion to my wet dress and give him an angry look that says, don’t mess with me right now, buddy. I turn around and walk past the bathroom, into our bedroom and shut the door hard. I don’t slam it. Okay, I kinda slam it.

  “A
mber?” he asks through the door, afraid to come in.

  “I’m changing, Josh. And I need a minute to cool down before I say something mean. Unlike you, I don’t want to be a jerk today.” I tear off my dress, my bra, my panties; pull out my comfiest sweats and a tank top. I need a little softness.

  He waits silently for a second and then, “Amber. I’m sorry I used that tone with you. It’s just hard because the auditions haven’t been going well. It ain’t easy, ya know?”

  Sliding the tank over my head, I look at the closed door to where my love is standing on the other side. I shake my head and sigh. I wish I could help him, but I don’t know how. I walk over. He’s leaning on the other side and almost falls in on me as I open the door. I would call him in for this TV pilot if he spoke Spanish. I plan to call him in for everything I ever work on now. Not that he knows this, but I don’t reward men for acting like babies. He stands straight and smiles sheepishly as I lean on the door jam. “I’m sorry Josh.”

  “Me too.” He pushes a bit of hair away from my forehead. “We’ve been doing a lot of things with David and Jess lately…”

  I add, “And Nico and whoever her guy of the moment is…”

  “But when we’re here, we’ve been kind of separate. You want to watch a movie tonight?”

  “Go out and watch one?” I ask, hopefully.

  “Oh… I was thinking just here, on the couch. You and me…” he smiles so cute, I don’t want to say no. Plus I’m fucking ecstatic he’s making an effort to spend time with me.

  “Sure. That sounds nice,” he goes to kiss me, but I say, “Oh no. I have to brush my teeth after the pesto.”

  I have no idea why, but an impatient look flashes over his face. “Okay. I’ll be in the living room.”

  “Great.” You know what. I’m just going to let that look go. In the bathroom, I hear a quiet knock at the front door. Josh always answers at night, so I put the toothpaste on my toothbrush and am just about to put it in my mouth when I hear a very worried Josh yell, “Amber?!”

  “Yeah, honey?” I step out of the bathroom, my toothbrush primed in my hand and ready to go. Standing before me is my Jessica, wearing pajama short shorts, a t-shirt, her favorite sneakers… and her face covered in dried tears and shock. Her eyes are swollen and pain-filled, propelling me forward to pull the poor thing into my arms. She breaks down as I hug her. Over her shoulder I see Josh, looking worried. He takes the toothbrush from my hand so I can hold her tighter and makes a gesture asking if he should go to the bedroom. I gesture back that that’d be great - thank you – and tighten my grip on her, leading her to the living room to set her down on my couch. I grab the entire tissue box and give it to her. “I’m going to get you some wine, honey. I can call Nicole, too. Do you want me to?”

  She nods, tears streaming. She is breaking my heart. I run over to the kitchen, open the fridge, pour three glasses of wine; one I leave in the fridge to stay cold. I pick up my phone that’s plugged into the wall where I always leave it, and text Nico. I go back and hand her the chardonnay, put my hand on her leg, and inhale. In a huge stream of consciousness that would barely make sense to anyone but someone who knows her really well, Jess tells me the whole story. I am stunned. I shake my head at parts. Nod at others. And all in all say, “I can’t believe it. What a jerk,” over and over, meaning every word.

  When Nicole comes, Jess says it all again, and it helps her… as much as it can. They say shared joy is double joy and shared sorrow is half sorrow. We do the best we can, but both Nico and I share looks knowing that it is about to be a rocky path for our girl. This kind of betrayal you do not bounce back from quickly. When Jess, sobs, “I can’t go back there.”

  “You’re staying here with us, until we find you a place.”

  “I was going to offer, too. Either way. We’ve got you,” Nicole assures her. I nod, as Jess looks from one of us to the other with gratitude and helplessness.

  “I can’t believe…” Jess trails off, her eyes clouding over, distant. It’s as if her body just shut down. Nicole and I look at each other again, worried.

  “Whatever you need. I’ll go get some clothes for you tomorrow,” Nicole says.

  “I’ll find a place for you. Annie can help me because her brother is a broker.”

  Jessica doesn’t reply. I don’t know if she heard me, but that’s okay. All I want for her is to know she’s taken care of – and she must know that.

  “Honey, why don’t you lie down,” Nicole suggests gently.

  “Let me take that,” I remove the suspended still-full glass from her hand and bring it to the kitchen. We watch as Jessica sinks down to a lying position. Nicole scoots to the end of the couch, pulls up our girl’s feet onto her lap, and takes off her sneakers. I run to get a blanket and cover her. Nicole stays on the couch, her hands on Jessica’s legs on her lap for comfort, just so she knows she’s not alone. I sit down in the chair.

  Soon Jess falls asleep, but we don’t move. Josh, hearing the silence, comes out to see what’s happening. Nico keeps her eyes on Jessica as I look to Josh and mouth the word David. He nods, and leans on the wall, looking at our sleeping heartbroken friend. With friends like us, she’s in good hands.

  Present Day

  Jess stayed with us until Annie’s brother, the broker, showed me a cute little apartment in the East Village that was perfect for her. I went to their old place with Nicole and faced David for what I hope will be the last time. How do you cheat on someone who loves you? I will never understand it. David wanted to explain etc. Nico and I wouldn’t have it. Fending him off was immensely annoying because all I wanted to do was scream at him. I didn’t, though. Truth? You never know if your girl is going to get back with a jerk, so you can’t do anything she’ll hate you for, if she does. It’s a sad fact of life, isn’t it?

  Josh was great right after that. I’m sure seeing the disintegration of a relationship we were so close to, and one we thought was rock-solid, made us cling to each other more than a little. That and for a while I thought my losing that job was the answer to the prayer I sent up, the one to help Josh and me.

  But then the shiny we don’t want to be like them effect wore off, and maybe the prayer too, because Josh now treats me like he’s holding a grudge. He’s definitely trying to make me pay for something – or holding back his affection and attention as some form of punishment. It’s driving me to insanity!

  There were a couple times other than the normal slow-fade to disinterest where he pushed the limits to see what I would take, like the time we had lunch with my parents when they came to town. He’d backed out of it at the last minute, then showed up right before the check arrived, all apologies. Since he’s charming and handsome, my mom forgave him on the promise that he’d have a cocktail with us. Since he bought the cocktails, my father forgave him next. After a few drinks and some cigarettes (dad still fails to quit smoking to this day) the three of them were best friends, but I didn’t forget his rudeness. I let him know with my lack of gaiety that I wasn’t impressed.

  Then there was the time I walked in and found him rehearsing a scene from his class with a pretty blonde who looked more Russian to my Irish. I had known he was working on a scene but I didn’t know her tits were the size of Montana. Time to go, Natasha or whatever your name is, said my stomping foot. He looked pretty amused at that one, so I knew I didn’t have anything to worry about. But the fact that he was testing me was really beginning to get on my nerves. And like I said, none of the sexy tactics I tried helped. We did have one rabbit-sex quickie in the middle on the night recently, but that soooooo does not count as affection let alone sex. I don’t even know what it was.

  So last Saturday, when Nicole and I escaped to get a drink near Jessica’s place in hope to catch her after work? I held myself back from venting to Jess and asking for her help. It wasn’t easy, but I didn’t want to crash her high! I’m so excited for her. Really. Nicole and I love her new man. She’s been through so much. How could I bring up my stupid
problems to ruin the party? I couldn’t. And then with the frenzy of Fashion Week’s final days, we couldn’t get together. It finally ended yesterday but when I called her, she said she couldn’t see me tonight since she’s spending time with him. Maybe tomorrow, she’d said?

  I don’t blame her. I just need her.

  “Honey, you didn’t put the lettuce in the crisper again. Remember, it goes bad faster if you leave it on the shelves like this.” I open the drawer and drop it in. There’s more than enough room in the stupid drawer. Why doesn’t he just use it? I quickly reorganize everything – especially the open bag of bread. How hard is to twist and close it? I look over to see if he heard me, if he has anything to say for himself. No reaction.

  “Josh?”

  “Okay.”

  I frown deeply. He’s never going to put the lettuce in there. I know it. “What are you reading, honey?”

  “Nothing. The news.”

  I look again to the refrigerator but the thought of cooking sounds horrible. I’ll cook and then he’ll want to watch TV as we eat. And if I ask him not to, he’ll act like I’m burdening him, which nobody wants. Then I’ll clean up because he likes to put anything that could be remotely regarded as work, off for as long as possible. Let’s just do it in the morning, is his motto. I can’t go to bed with a dirty kitchen. It makes me feel bad. Plus, it’s gross.

  My eyes fall on a photo of Josh and I, taken a few months before we moved in together. I think it was even before we’d said I love you. Such a cute photo; we’re standing on the Brooklyn Bridge wearing winter coats with Manhattan in the background. We look happy, him behind me with his hands in the front pockets of my jeans. My head is rested against his chest because that’s how high it reaches. We’ve got huge smiles on our faces. The tourist who’d taken the photo had asked just get engaged? Josh told her, not yet and had kissed me on the crown of my head. Awesome fucking day. Unlike this one.