by Julia Kent
“Noticed me?”
“That’s code for ‘was too much of a wimp to ask you out.’” He drank half his coffee in one long swallow, the liquid burning his throat, an oddly pleasant juxtaposition against the pain of this awkward verbal groping.
“So instead you nearly fucked me in the on-call room at my friend’s birth?” Two women chatting next to them stopped, one leaning closer. He watched Josie take a dainty sip of her drink, her head tipped down, eyes looking up at him. Audrey Hepburn. Damn if she didn't look like her doppelganger.
Alex began rubbing the bridge of his nose. “It’s getting crowded in here,” he declared, standing. He reached for her elbow and guided her up. “Let’s go for a walk.” No choice. It was an order.
She obeyed.
“Not a wimp move,” she hissed. They both pitched their cups up and drank greedily, downing more of their morning joe.
“What? Asking you to go for a walk?”
“And the sex in the on-call room.” His hand reached out to the small of her back to guide her out the coffee shop’s door. A tingle of excitement zipped through her as his palm warmed her. God, she’d missed him.
“There wasn’t any sex in the on-call room.”
“Only because someone else’s vagina was ‘Exit Only’ at that moment. My ‘Enter’ sign was forty feet tall with rhinestones and blinking LED lights. And an eight-piece brass band. With tubas and everyth—”
The crush of Alex made her shoulders go flat against the brick wall he pulled her next to, her arms up in the air, one holding a coffee she instinctively preserved, the other snaking through his hair as he kissed her with such ferocity her lips felt bruised. They’d dipped a few feet into a small alley around the corner from the firehouse museum, and as he raked her mouth with his tongue, all fire and need, she saw the bored morning walkers going about their business as if she weren’t being ravaged a few feet away.
He smelled so good, and tasted like coffee and hope.
“Don’t do that again,” he growled, one hand on her waist, the other casually holding his coffee cup.
“Don’t what?”
“Shut me out.”
Swallowing hard, she tried to think of what to say.
“I mean it, Josie,” Alex added, his eyes hard and soft all at once. The pulse at his jawline throbbed, his muscles tight. “I’ve had my eye on you for months, and it felt like fate the night you came in with Laura. It was fate. Everything from that moment made sense with you. All of it.”
“Alex, I—”
He was breathing hard, the heat of his exhales pushing against her neck.
“I was so worried about coming on too strong. Maybe you faded back because I wasn’t direct enough.” One knee pressed between hers, his core pushing hard against her, their abdomens so close she could feel his heartbeat through a very obvious erection.
“I won’t make that mistake twice,” he added, punctuating the thought with a slower, unraveling kiss that made her stand on tiptoe to savor every bit of his mouth. Her hands loosened and she felt the coffee cup slide down, crashing to the ground, a light splash of liquid registering on her ankle, the taste of his soft tongue so exquisite she felt like she shifted into a new dimension. A vague, muted sound told her Alex dropped his coffee as well as his heat pushed into her, his lush skin sliding against her cheek, the sound of his breath like a dare.
Something between them began to buzz.
“Is that a vibrator in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” she murmured against his mouth.
Pure delight poured out of him, the old Alex returning fast with his laughter as he broke contact with her, pulling back. Rummaging through his pocket, he found the offending phone. “Damn it. Work. Gotta go.”
The march of people past them, to the left, was a blur of faceless bodies and feet, as if their heads weren’t there. The alley seemed so detailed, in contrast, and every part of Alex’s appearance, from the button on his collar that wasn’t quite all the way through the button hole to the streak of her lipstick on his lips, seemed rich and coarse and solid. Real.
The hard, aggressive Alex was still here, but reduced by half. The man who stared back at her had a decisiveness that mixed with his openness and invited her in.
Invited himself in.
Open the door, Josie. Say yes. That was Laura’s voice.
Yes. That was hers.
Josie’s own voice replied. “When can I see you again?” she asked.
The worried look came back as he read something on his phone. Shoving it in his pocket, he shook his head slightly, as if banishing the thought. “Whenever you want.” His hand slipped around her waist and he kissed her lightly on the lips.
A brief thought of Ed, of his decline, her conversation with Gian, hit her. Should she bring it up now? No. Not yet.
Bzzz.
“Shit.” He kissed her cheek and began to walk away. “I really do have to go. Just text me. Promise?” Walking with purpose, he marched off.
“Promise,” she whispered to no one.
Promise.
“Something’s wrong with him,” Josie began as she marched into the cabin. Then she did a double-take and made a low whistling sound.
“Holy shit.”
“It’s a little messy,” Laura confessed.
“And my fingernails are a little over the top.” She flashed her hands at Laura. They spelled I-heart-J-I-L-L-I-A-N-heart. The hearts were bright red, the nails pink and white.
The cabin looked like a baby bomb had exploded in it. Burp rags covered the back of every chair or couch. A hamper full of laundry was next to a spot on the couch with an end table littered with large, empty glasses and plates that held what appeared to have once been pizza. A few empty salad containers littered the area. Breast pads were stacked neatly next to the table.
And then there was the giant pile of laundry on the floor.
That moved.
“Jesus Christ!” Josie shouted, jumping back. A leg stuck out from under a pile of towels. The leg was attached to an underwear-covered ass and a naked chest.
Dylan was sound asleep in a pile of clothes in the middle of the room, snoring lightly. His arm curled under his head like a pillow.
Josie pointed. “What’s that?”
“Dylan.”
“Not who. What?”
“He’s tired,” Laura whined. “We all are. Mike’s probably out there asleep in his Jeep.”
Josie shot Laura a what the fuck look. “His Jeep? Are you guys fighting?”
“No!” Laura wailed, pacing back and forth with the baby in her arms. Cherubic and serene, she was so sweet looking. The rosy-pink skin and a smattering of baby acne on her nose reminded Josie of how tiny and new Jillian really was. A breathy snort came from the baby, whose mouth puckered and suckled in the air.
“Then why is he in his Jeep?”
“He pretends he’s going for a run but every time he does that I look out there and he’s asleep in the front seat.”
“Um…why?”
Laura pointed at Dylan, who was now spooning with a nursing pillow and a beach towel. “Same reason as that. We’re completely wiped.”
Josie reached for the baby and Laura transferred her as if handing over a live grenade. “Don’t wake her. I just got her to sleep.” The handoff successful, Josie marveled at how lightweight the baby was. Wrapped in a pink fleece blanket and wearing a jumper with characters from an Eric Carle book, Jillian was a piece of perfection in a sub-ten-pound body.
“Thank you! Hang on,” Laura said as she dashed out of the room. The distant sounds of a toilet flushing and running water were followed by Laura’s reappearance. Josie wandered into the kitchen and searched for the coffeemaker. The countertop was covered with what looked like every dish in the house, two nursing bras, more burp cloths, and about nineteen coffee mugs, all containing anywhere from one to two inches of coffee.
But no coffeemaker.
Deciding to grab a cup of milk instead, she open
ed the refrigerator to find—
The coffeemaker.
What the hell? Jillian wiggled in her arms, making Josie freeze in place. How could someone so placid and sweet cause her three friends to fall apart like this? Something more must be going on. No one falls apart this fast from just having a little baby, right?
“Oh! You found it. Dylan said he couldn’t remember where he put it this morning.” Acting like it was no big deal that someone had shoved an entire ten-cup coffeemaker next to a bag of fennel in the fridge, Laura hauled it out, shoved a clean spot into the detritus on the counter, and plugged the machine in. Josie gingerly picked up trash from the counter and began throwing it away, trying to help.
“Don’t you guys have a cleaning service?” Josie asked.
“Louisa’s sick,” Laura said. “Of all the weeks.” With ruthless efficiency, Laura had coffee brewing in under ninety seconds, and turned to Josie, stretching her arms up in the air, giving Josie a front-and-center view of her right breast.
“Uh, Laura….” she said, pointing. The nursing shirt Laura wore had some sort of vertical slit, like crotchless undies, and as she lifted her arms to the ceiling it became evident Laura wasn’t wearing a bra.
“Oh.” Laura reached under the neckline of her shirt and did something that made a clicking sound. “My nursing bra was unclasped. Sorry for the peep show.”
“I’ve seen worse.”
“I know you have. You were at the birth.”
They smiled at each other and Josie leaned down to huff the baby’s head. How could she cause such chaos?
“And speaking of the birth,” Laura added, “how’s Dr. Perfect?”
Carrying the smile a bit longer, Josie shrugged. “We had coffee. And a few hot kisses in the alley. I’m thinking about surprising him tonight with Thai and episode five of Downton Abbey.”
Laura pretended to golf clap, miming it to avoid waking Jillian. “Well played. I know you’re scared shitless, but you’re doing the right thing.”
“Speaking of the right thing, I need to bounce something off you.”
Laura made herself a cup of coffee and gestured for Josie to go on.
“I already spoke with my boss about this, but I think Alex’s grandpa isn’t getting the meds in our research trial. I can’t be sure, and I would never go into the records and look. It’s a hunch.”
“Did you say anything yet to Alex?”
“No. But I feel like I should.”
“Of course you should! Wouldn’t you want to know if you were Alex?”
“Yes.”
“So what’s the problem?”
Josie sighed. Jillian gurgled and smiled, a crooked grin that made Josie and Laura say “awwwwwww” in unison.
And then the unmistakeable sound of more gurgling, except this came from the diaper.
“Last time she made that sound she shat all the way up to her hair,” Laura said, staying in her position across the kitchen, drinking her coffee.
A spreading warmth coated Josie’s palm, the one that supported Jillian’s ass. “C’mon. You can’t say things like that and then just leave me holding her.”
“Here,” said a deep voice. They both turned to find Dylan standing there, rubbing his eyes. He wore blue boxer briefs, and Josie noted that they were just like Alex’s while trying not to check out Dylan’s bulge. Like she needed that image in her head.
She already knew too much about his body. Too, too much.
“Thank you for wearing underpants,” she said as she handed the poopy baby over to one of her dads.
“You’re in my house. You’re lucky I’m wearing them,” he grunted, turning away. “And save me some coffee!” he called back, cooing at the baby, who was now staring at him in absolute fascination as Laura and Josie watched his butt until he turned a corner and entered one of the back rooms.
“You’re only allowed to stare because I say it’s okay,” Laura said, finishing her coffee. She looked at the counter and said, “Damn. This is really awful.”
“I’ll help. And his ass reminded me of Alex’s, so I was just reminiscing.”
“Why get nostalgic when you can go home and make new memories?” Laura opened the dishwasher and began loading coffee mugs.
“Because if I tell Alex about his grandpa, he might get…squirrelly. Families often don’t want to hear the truth about decline, and Ed might be in a permanent downward spiral. It’s…complicated.”
Laura’s sympathetic smile helped take the edge off her fear. “If you don’t say anything you’ll regret it. Maybe there’s something people are missing. Alex is a doctor. He’s not your average patient’s family member.”
“True.”
Laura waved her hand at the mess. “Why am I cleaning? I have ten precious moments without Velcro Baby attached to me and I’m doing dishes? Ugh.”
“I know. Let’s go to a strip club and get a lap dance. Better use of our time.”
Mike walked in the front door, stretching his calves as if he just finished a run. “Man, it’s gorgeous outside.”
“Yeah, the Jeep has the best weather ever!” Josie shot back.
A sheepish look on his face showed he knew he’d been busted. “I, uh…”
Laura walked over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “It’s okay, hon. We know you were sleeping in the Jeep. You’ve been doing it for the past week.”
“You’ve been what?” Dylan bellowed, entering the room with Jillian on his shoulder.
“Subject change—are you going to work for Menage Match?” Mike asked Josie.
Three sets of eyes zeroed in on her.
“No pressure,” she mumbled.
“No. Pressure,” Laura insisted. “Pressure most definitely there. Do it,” she hissed. Dylan rocked in place, mercifully having thrown on some sweatpants. Mike stood over them all, eyes calm but exhausted.
“You’re serious?” Josie asked, incredulous. “I thought Laura was just out of her mind with being 158 weeks pregnant!”
“We’re serious,” the three said together.
“Salary?”
Dylan named a figure. A damn fine figure.
“Benefits?”
“The guy who handles our HR issues at the ski resort can help with the new venture.”
“My own parking spot?”
“Oooooooh, tough negotiator,” Dylan joked. “How about a bowl of red-only M&Ms at your desk every morning and a Justin Bieber butt plug for each day of the week?”
“Why would I want a Justin Bieber butt plug?”
“If you’re going to put that guy’s face anywhere, it might as well be—”
Waaaaaaaaaaaaaaa! Jillian’s cry pierced the air.
“I’m not deciding now, guys,” Josie said as Dylan handed the baby to Laura, who reached under her neckline and unclicked the bra, latching Jillian on with an expert hand that belied her three weeks of motherhood.
“But you’re considering it?” Laura asked hopefully.
No Gian. No Alzheimer’s patients. No worrying about how to break bad data news to various researchers. More money. More flexibility. Working with Laura regularly.
What could be better?
“I am.”
Laura bounced in place with excitement, unable to move because of the baby sucking milk out of her. Josie wondered what it felt like. Was it the same as getting a hickey? It couldn’t be, right? You’d bruise all the time. She just stared.
“Hello? Earth to Josie?”
“What?”
“You said yes!”
“No, I didn’t!” she huffed. “I said I’d think about it.”
“Close enough.”
Mike wandered in to the living room and took a good look at the chaos. “We need to clean this up.”
“And by ‘we’ you mean you and Dylan,” Laura piped up.
“Absolutely.” He leaned over and kissed the top of Laura’s head, then did the same with the now-happy Jillian, who opened her eyes wide and stared up at one of her dads.
“Come over to the dark side,” Dylan called out from the kitchen, then joined the group with his own cup of coffee, plopping down on the laundry on the floor.
They were so happy. Exhausted and messy and overwhelmed—but happy.
Vulnerability didn’t wear well on Josie but Laura and Mike and Dylan showed her that being vulnerable and willing to take emotional risks could be ... a different kind of strength. Being self-contained, Josie was independent, relied on no one; her strength was in her thick skin. She was proud of thinking through every contingency in any given situation, so she was prepared for disaster when—not if—it struck. But maybe the secret to being OK wasn't to close herself off and keep all the heartbreak at bay.
What if there were a different way to navigate life emotionally? Opening herself up to Alex felt like being flayed emotionally. Stripped of that thick skin.
Alex represented something more.
And Laura was offering something different.
Indecision ate away at her soul. Ed’s deterioration was evident, and Alex had put his finger on something that Josie wished weren’t true. His grandfather was in decline, and nothing anyone said would make a difference, the attempts at denial so obvious that even the people who tried to claim that Ed was fine couldn’t do it with any sort of conviction. In contrast to Ed, other patients on the project, patients who had been at about Ed’s level when they’d started, seemed to be doing so much better. It was as if the fog of Alzheimer’s were lifting. Not gone, but burned off a bit, so that what had been an opaque, thick mist had turned into a light transparency, making the disease much easier to manage, rather than a beast that victimized.
Too much knowledge tore Josie in half. She felt like Meredith Grey in an episode of that television show, Grey’s Anatomy. In the exact same ridiculous situation where looking into the files to know whether Ed was in the control group or was actually getting the medication that was at the center of the research trial meant jeopardizing the integrity of the project and her job. Never one to take professional chances, Josie found herself frozen solid, fear permeating every cell of her body, her brain, and now, her heart. There was no way out.
