“Are you okay here all by yourself?” Birdie said, stepping gingerly into the living room and lying back on the sofa.
“I’m fine. Jennifer brings Tweet by sometimes when she needs a break.”
“Wait,” Birdie said. “My ex-wife brings my child to see my current wife? But she won’t bring her to see me. That’s insane.”
Alex shrugged. She pulled some pillows out of a hall closet and propped them up under Birdie’s neck. She pulled his shoes off and moved his legs onto the sofa.
“Birdie, I’m scared for you,” Alex said. “People breaking into your house? With guns? What kind of life are you living?”
“Alex, don’t concern yourself with any of that. Just know that when you come back home, you’ll be protected. I’ll make sure of that. This won’t ever happen again.”
Alex made a face.
“Just because I brought you back here doesn’t mean I want you back. I love you. And I want to be with you. But you’ve hurt me one too many times. I can’t go back there with you.”
“So you’re going to take care of me for a few days and then send me on my way?” Birdie asked.
“Yes.”
“Why bother?”
“Because I feel like pretending,” Alex said.
Birdie stood up and grabbed Alex’s hands, forcing her to her feet as well. He picked her up and walked toward the staircase.
“Birdie!” Alex said. “You should be resting. And you should not be picking me up!”
“Did you put on a few pounds?” said Birdie, as he came to the top of the stairs, breathing heavily.
“Damn you, Birdie, I have!” Alex said. “You didn’t have to say anything.”
“I couldn’t help but notice. You almost broke my back.”
Before Birdie could come up with another joke about her weight, Alex was on him, pushing him back onto the bed and lifting him up just long enough to get his shirt off.
“Is this okay? Are you in pain?” Alex said.
Birdie shook his head.
“I’m okay, baby.”
Her kisses were more intense than Birdie remembered. Usually, she didn’t open up to Birdie until he forced her to let go. But this time, he had to hold her arms and tell her to wait so that he could get his pants off.
Finally, they were both naked and curled up in bed. Alex clasped her hands around Birdie’s back and squeezed hard. He squeezed back and then turned her on her back and moved inside her.
Alex’s moan was so low and guttural that it almost scared Birdie at first.
Birdie moved faster inside Alex, holding her shoulders and pushing in as far as she would let him. Alex rolled over onto Birdie and sat on top of him, rocking him the way she always did.
It was his favorite position and Alex knew it. She would sit up on him and just rock him back and forth. He’d feel himself moving inside of her and the sensation was always more than enough to make him come within minutes.
“Hold up, Alex,” Birdie groaned. “Hold up one second—”
“No, baby,” Alex said. She shook her head back and forth. “Let it go . . .”
Alex continued to rock, ever so slowly, until Birdie couldn’t hold back anymore. They collapsed, falling asleep together almost immediately.
Three hours later, Birdie sat with his back against the headboard. Alex had her head in his lap. There wasn’t a sound: no television, no music. Just the soft breathing coming from both of them.
“You trying to send me back to the hospital?” Birdie asked.
Alex sat up and chuckled.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. It was a concussion. No big deal.”
“I wish we could go back in time,” Alex said.
“Alex, we can’t. But you can move forward with me.”
Alex was silent. They both fell asleep with their thoughts unsaid.
Birdie stayed with Alex for a week. On a rainy Saturday afternoon, he told her he was going back home the next day. Alex just nodded. The next morning, Birdie and Alex bumped around the house like they had a one-night stand the night before. Birdie tripped over the footboard. Alex threw him a towel that missed and hit the floor.
“So I’d better go,” said Birdie, after he was showered and dressed. He rubbed the back of his head, where he still had a lump. “Travis is coming to take me back to Jersey.”
Alex looked up from her laptop.
“Alright, Birdie. Take care of yourself.”
“Take care of myself?”
Alex looked up.
“Yes. Take care of yourself.”
Birdie paused. He wanted to drag Alex back to Jersey by her ponytail. But he was in the wrong and there was no way around it. They could have sex a million nights in a row and she still wasn’t taking him back.
“Can I get you some coffee before I go?”
Alex smiled.
“I’d like that a lot.”
Birdie whipped out his phone and began texting a message.
“What are you doing?” Alex asked.
“I’m getting Travis to bring some coffee,” said Birdie. “Don’t worry, I know how you like it.”
Alex held up a hand and shook her head.
“I don’t want coffee that you get someone else to fetch. I thought you were going to make me a cup. The same way you have for ten years.”
“What difference does it make?”
Alex sighed.
“If you don’t know,” she said, “I can’t tell you.”
“Alex, let me ask you this,” Birdie said. “Are you even considering coming back?”
“No,” Alex said, with no hesitation.
“Because I won’t make you a cup of coffee?”
“No! Because you don’t even understand why little things like that matter to me. It just tells me who you are. And you’re not the man I married.”
Birdie thought better of defending himself. He began to walk toward the door.
“Alright,” he said. “I’ll see you later.”
The house in Jersey seemed three times as big as the night of the robbery. While he was at Alex’s house, he’d arranged for twenty-four-hour security and beefed up all the alarm systems in the house. There were cameras installed around the perimeter of the property. Anything over twenty-five pounds coming across his lawn would trigger a call to the local police department. Birdie felt safe. But empty.
He’d really believed that recuperating at Alex’s house in Brooklyn would bring them close enough to get back together. He wasn’t done trying. But coming back to the house alone felt like a major setback.
Birdie walked throughout the entire house, stopping in each room and glancing around. Upstairs, he went into his daughter’s bedroom and sat down on her bed. He’d barely seen Tweet in the past few months, except for a few awkward overly supervised visits at Jen’s house. And he had never gone longer than a few days without seeing her since the day she was born.
Birdie took out his cell phone and flipped to Jen’s number. He ended the call before it rang and turned his phone off. For the rest of the evening, he wandered around the house aimlessly, opening and closing bedroom doors and checking and rechecking the alarm system.
He felt the pain in the back of his head begin to throb. Birdie dug into his knapsack for his pain pills. He sat on top of the kitchen counter, head down, hands folded, waiting for the medicine to kick in.
Right here,” Jake said to his driver.
“Are you sure you don’t want security?” the driver asked Jake. “I can have someone here in five minutes.”
“I’m good. I’ll text you.”
The driver looked around warily.
“I’m going back into the city,” said the driver. “Call me twenty minutes before you’re ready.”
Jake smiled. He got out of the car and pulled his baseball cap low on his head. He walked past a group of guys playing a dice game in front of the nondescript building in Bushwick.
Jake never thought it would be
so hard to find out where Lily lived. Usually, he could give a name to a friend in the NYPD and have an entire dossier on whoever he wanted within a day or two. But Lily’s name didn’t come up in any databases. He finally had to get someone to bribe her boss at the W to get her real last name. With that, he was finally able to track her down to Bushwick.
Jake hadn’t been this far up Knickerbocker Avenue in ten years. Bushwick felt like another country, not just a part of Brooklyn a few miles away from his penthouse. He checked his phone, took a quick swig from his flask, and walked briskly into the lobby. It was thrilling to be out in public with no bodyguards. Just moving in silence, the way he did when his life was so much simpler. He walked past a group of rowdy teenagers who didn’t even notice him, bypassed the elevator, and took the stairs up two flights to apartment 202.
And then he wasn’t sure what to do. Suddenly, he felt like an idiot, showing up unannounced at the apartment of some random chick he didn’t know from a hole in a wall. A chick who had gone out of her way not to let him know where she lived. Or even her real last name. What if she was married? What if she had a bunch of kids? What if she lived with her parents? Jake stood in front of the door, trying to decide what to do. His hand decided for him and rapped on the door before his brain could protest.
Someone opened the door with the chain still on it. Jake saw an almond-shaped eye peek through the opening. There was a shriek and the door slammed shut.
“Lily,” Jake said to the door. “Come on.”
The door cracked open again.
“Jake?”
“Yeah.”
“What are you doing here?!”
“I was in the area?”
“Go away.”
Lily started to push the door closed and Jake pushed back.
“Are you married?” Jake asked.
“No,” said Lily, still pushing the door.
“Then why can’t I come inside?”
“Because I didn’t invite you here!”
“But now that I’m here, you might as well let me in . . .”
Lily opened the door as far as the chain would allow.
“Jake, please. Please. Just go.”
“Not unless you give me a really good reason.”
“I don’t have one,” Lily said, her voice cracking.
Jake moved back from the door, turned up his flask to his mouth again, and then folded his arms over his chest.
“Then I’m not leaving.”
For twenty minutes, Jake stood at Lily’s door. First, he just leaned against the wall, head down, observing people entering and leaving their apartments. Every few minutes, he turned up his flask until it was empty. Occasionally, he would hear her come to the door.
“I’m still here,” Jake would say.
“I’m calling the police,” Lily finally said.
“Okay,” said Jake. He sat down on the floor.
Lily unlocked the chain and opened the door.
“Get in here,” she said, looking up and down the hallway.
Jake held out his hands. Lily put her hands in his and pulled him up to his feet. He stumbled into her apartment and rubbed his eyes.
“Why’s it so dark in here?” he said, holding in a burp.
“Because it’s late.”
Lily turned on a light in her living room and led Jake to a sofa. She sat across from him in a red leather chair and sighed.
“So now what?”
Jake looked around. Lily’s apartment was immaculate. The hardwood floors gleamed and there was a distinct smell of clean laundry. Her living room was tiny but expertly decorated. One wall was completely covered in vintage frames with black-and-white photos inside. A large painting of brightly colored sea life hung above the sofa.
“Did you do that?” Jake asked, pointing to the painting.
Lily nodded.
“You have anything to drink here?”
Lily shook her head. Jake licked his lips and took off his hat.
“So. I wanted to see you.”
“You’re looking at me,” Lily said.
“I mean. Not like that. I wanted to spend time with you.”
“So you track me down and camp out at my apartment?”
“That’s not how I usually do it.”
“How do you usually do it?”
Jake scratched his head.
“I guess I don’t usually do anything.”
“Yeah. I remember. You just dial a number and the women show up at your house.”
“You want to get something to eat?” Jake asked.
“Are you seriously asking me out on a date?”
“Yeah. I am.”
“Come in here,” Lily said.
She stood up and walked into her kitchen. A small Formica table sat in the middle of the floor with two chairs with red vinyl seats tucked inside. Lily gestured to the table and Jake sat. She opened the refrigerator and began taking out Tupperware containers.
“You’re serving me leftovers?” Jake asked.
Lily shot him a look and Jake threw up his hands. “I’ll take it.”
Lily bustled around the kitchen for a few minutes, finally coming to the table with two plates heavy with rice and beans, baked chicken, macaroni and cheese, and candied sweet potatoes.
Jake picked up his fork and Lily grabbed his wrist.
“That’s not how it’s done here,” she said. Lily put her palms out and Jake took her hands. She bowed her head. She looked up at Jake and gestured for him to speak.
“Um, thanks, God for the . . . the food,” Jake mumbled. “Amen.”
Lily put a napkin in her lap and began to eat. She pointed to Jake’s plate with her fork.
“I want your opinion,” she said.
“You didn’t make this,” Jake said, stuffing forkfuls of food in his mouth.
“Not only did I make it all, I grew the sweet potatoes myself,” Lily said. She stuck her tongue out at Jake.
“Whatever.”
“I farm a little plot of land a few blocks over. Me and a few of my friends grow lots of stuff.”
Jake nodded and continued eating. When he was done, Lily took his plate to the sink and washed the dishes while he watched.
“You really don’t have anything to drink here?”
Lily threw up her hands and then got on tiptoe and opened a cupboard over her refrigerator. She brought down a bottle of Hennessy, poured a shot glass, and set it down in front of Jake. He tossed it back immediately.
“You’re not going to join me?” Jake said, reaching for the bottle to pour another shot.
“No.”
Jake hesitated. Then he shrugged and drained the glass.
“Okay, Jake,” Lily said. “You’ve had dinner. And drinks I shouldn’t have given you. Now I need you to go.”
“It’s still early,” Jake said.
“I have to get up in the morning.”
“To work at a bar?”
Lily closed her eyes.
“I do more than just work at a bar.”
“What are you going to do after I leave?”
“Some yoga. Meditate. Watch television. Then go to sleep.”
Jake stood up from the table and carefully tucked his chair underneath. He felt something he couldn’t quite name. It was the buzz of the alcohol as always. But there was something else. Being in this small space felt warm and comforting. He didn’t want to go back to his own apartment, twenty times bigger with all its creature comforts. He wanted to stay in Lily’s orbit for as long as she would let him.
“I wanna stay here,” Jake said. “And do some yoga. And meditate. And watch television . . .”
Lily stared at Jake.
“And go to sleep,” he said.
Two hours later, Jake and Lily were folded into the full-sized bed that took up more than half of the space in her bedroom. The walls were sky blue and there were fluffy white clouds painted on the ceiling. Lily’s bed was all white—the wooden frame and all the linens, pillows, and co
mforters. The whole room was the size of a closet in Jake’s apartment, but he was more than comfortable.
“Lily?” Jake whispered.
There was no sound. His entire body was sore from the stretches she’d put him through in their impromptu yoga session. He’d never known his body could move that way. And he wasn’t sure he liked it. She tried to get him to meditate, but he fell into laughter every time they were silent for more than ten seconds. Lily said they would try it again when he was sober.
After watching late-night news, Lily went into the bathroom and came out wearing sweatpants and a tank top. She went into her bedroom without saying anything, leaving the door open. Jake took off his sneakers and laid on top of her bed in his clothes. She was asleep immediately. Eventually, Jake stripped down to his T-shirt and boxers and climbed under the covers. As soon as he turned to his side, he felt Lily relax her body into his. She wrapped his arms around her waist and held his hands.
“Lily?” Jake asked again.
“Hmmmmm . . .”
“The food was good.”
“Mmmmmhmmm . . .”
“And I really like your place.”
Lily opened one eye and yawned.
“Jake, go to sleep.”
“Thank you for letting me stay here tonight.”
Lily didn’t answer. In a few minutes, Jake could tell she was back into a deep sleep. Jake held Lily tighter and tried unsuccessfully to fall asleep. Six hours later, the sun was peeking through the windows and his eyes were still wide open. He texted his driver and then felt Lily stir. He rolled over to let her out of bed.
“You sleep okay?” Lily asked, throwing her legs over the side of the bed.
“Like a baby,” Jake lied.
“Good. I would make you breakfast, but I really have to go. And so do you.”
Jake pulled on his clothes and slowly laced up his sneakers. Lily walked him to the door of her apartment and opened it.
“I know where you live now,” Jake said.
Lily held back a smile.
“Good-bye, Jake.”
Desperation was not a feeling Jake was accustomed to. It was so new to him that he had some trouble identifying it at first. All he knew was that he felt like Lily wasn’t trying to see him again. And that wasn’t an option he wanted to entertain. But he felt helpless. Was that the same as desperation?
Diamond Life Page 31
