by Milly Taiden
I go to the kitchen to get a thin skewer to slide in the central hole of the handle and force my way in. I find an unconscious Andrew and lock the door behind me. I pull his head from the toilet and push him against the wall. I take a towel from the shelf and put it under the cold water. The smell in the room is horrible.
I flush the toilet, kneel in front of him to wipe his mouth, and then some yucky stuff from his hair. Gross! I fold the towel in two and put it on his forehead. He's got a big gash. He's probably knocked himself out against the toilet seat in a heave. His eyes flutter open and he looks at the locked door and at me.
“How did you get in?” he asks. His speech is a bit slurred.
“I slid under the door,” I answer and watch him try to process that piece of information. It's funny because he stares at the bottom of the door and then at me as if he's actually considering my answer as a possibility.
“Come on Andy, upsy daisy, I'm taking you to bed,” I tell him as I get up and pull him by both arms.
“I'd love to do you,” he says, “but I'm serious. Xander would kill me. ”
“I don't think you're in any shape to do anything but your pillow,” I joke as I steady him in a vertical position and open the door. I walk him to his room and make him sit down gently on his bed. I unbutton his shirt which is covered with half digested stuff. I fold it in a ball using as few fingers as I can and then pull his shoes and socks of.
Had I ever entertained anything romantic with Andrew, I would be cured of it for good. I'll ask Oliver or Ten to come finish undressing him later. I make him lay down on his stomach with one hand flat on the floor. I've been told it can help with the spinning.
It's almost midnight and everyone's eyes are glued to the television showing the time square crowd. Everyone's eyes except Ten's, he's scanning the room looking for me. When he sees me he smiles and I rush to be next to him so by the time we're done counting down I'm in his arms and we both wish each other a happy new year.
1980 has to be better than 1979.
I look for Oliver but he's nowhere to be seen. I can't see the intern he was dancing with either and the door to his bedroom is closed. They're having their own private celebration. My mind goes back in time and I scold myself. Not tonight. Tonight I will not be melancholic. My life is good and I'm going to enjoy it.
Another hour and all of our friends are gone. I'm cleaning up when the doorbell rings. Ten runs for it and opens the door to a very handsome man who grabs him and kisses him passionately. I want to look away but I can't. It's the first time I see two men kissing and I'm fascinated. I want to ask Ten why he didn’t invite him to our party but I never get the chance.
The guy winks at me and says, “Hello, you must be Lyv. Happy new year to you, little girl. I'm stealing your boy for the night. ” He steps back in the hallway and leaves with Ten.
I sure hope he's living in the building otherwise Ten's gonna catch a serious cold.
I have to stop being so protective. Protective, right. I need to check on Andrew. I do and, sure enough, he's thrown up again. At least he had stayed on his stomach and didn’t suffocate. When will he learn he just can't drink?
I go back to house cleaning for a while and then decide I can't let him sleep in such a mess. I change from my leather pants and silk blouse into an oversized tee shirt from Ten's closet and return tackle Andy. I finish undressing him. He's in a stupor. I hope it's the alcohol he consumed and not a brain injury after the shock. I get him almost vertical and coax him in the bathroom. I set the water to a reasonable temperature and step in the shower with him.
I almost laugh to myself thinking that I'm pretty sure my three month old baby must be less trouble to manage than the three supposedly grown man I'm mothering.
Now that Andy's cleaned what do I do with him? I can't put him back in his bed because it's revoltingly dirty. I'm going to play musical beds. I'll put Andy in my room and go sleep in Ten's room.
I wrap up an almost naked and wobbly Andy in a towel and he becomes very talkative as I dry him off. Since he's watched me in the shower, he's got a fantasy starting with him washing my hair. So being together under the shower was like a dream come true except that I was wearing this stupid tee-shirt and that he's too drunk to get it up. . . Too much information. When he sobers up, I need to get to the bottom of this watching me under the shower story.
My bringing him in my room and tucking him in my bed is making him even more confused. He's apologizing profusely and telling me that for sure tomorrow he won't have this technical problem anymore. “Oh, I'm sure Andy,” I say. “Tomorrow, your penis won't be the problem. It's going to be your head. ”
I turn out the light and retreat to Ten's room. The wet tee-shirt falls to the floor of Ten’s bathroom and I fall in his bed. Boy, am I tired, I think I'll sleep all day tomorrow.
***
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I'm dreaming about the restaurant I'll be working in next week when a voice interrupts my dream. Oliver's voice is amused and curious “Hey Lyv! Wake up. The doorman buzzed. You have a visitor. I went to wake you and I found Andrew sleeping in your bed so I decided to ask Ten where you were and I find you here. ”
It's too early for him to wake me up. It's too early for anything but sleep. I pull the quilt over my head. “Leave me alone, too complicated to explain now,” I mumble from under the quilt.
Proving that his hearing is really fine, Oliver laughs and says, “I don't give a damn where you sleep. I'm just giving you a heads up because the some one coming up may want an explanation. So if you don't have one ready you better think about one real quick. ”
Now I’m curious. I pull my head out from under the quilt and open my eyes. Early day light fills a corner of the room as I did not bother to shut the curtains last night. Oliver is standing by the door in his underwear. I squint and, yes, they're inside out. Funny way to start the New Year. Especially for him who is usually so meticulous about his appearance.
In my half asleep I wrack my brain trying to think to whom I could owe an explanation. It can't be the Ice Queen, Ten's mother is somewhere exotic for the holidays. It can't be James senior, he's in Acapulco for the winter. It can't be Ten's boyfriend because he's with Ten and it can't be Ten because he wouldn't care that I slept in his room. Actually he would be relieved that I didn’t put a puking Andrew in is bed!
My mind is too foggy from lack of sleep so I give up and ask, “Who are you talking about?”
The door bell rings and Oliver turns around without answering. He walks out leaving the bedroom door ajar.
I hear him open the door and say, “She's in Ten's room. . . don't ask me. I don't know. I don't care, I'm going back to bed. . . Oh and Happy New year. ”
Now I'm wide awake and there's this bubble of hope that grew out of nowhere. The only other person I could owe an explanation to is Alexander. Could it be him? I want to run out of bed to check it out but I'm naked. Instead of running, I close my eyes and pray. When I open them again, the door is open wide.
“Is it really you or am I having a dream?” I ask sitting up with the quilt wrapped around my bust.
“Waddaya think?” he asks. He smiles, walks in the room and closes the door behind him.
“If you're not a dream, I think you should lock it,” I say.
He chuckles and turns around to twist the little knob in the door handle. He drops his bag on the floor and his coat on Ten's desk. He takes three steps to the bed and sits facing me. I run the tip of my fingers on his face to make sure I'm not dreaming that he's really here. It's much more pleasant than pinching myself.
I want to be mad at him and yell, “Your brother is my roommate. Andrew told you I had your baby and yet you did not reach out to me. Why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t you write?” but the only think I say in a whisper is, “I've missed you so much. ”
He puts his hands on my shoulders and draws me to him. His lips reach mine and I'm whole again. His kiss is so tender, even more than before. O
r maybe I forgot. I feared I had lost him forever. I want to be his, whichever way he wants me. I hold on to him with all my strength. I'm filled with an irresistible need of him.
My hands are on his belt and then on the zipper of his pants. I feel his legs moving. He's kicking off his shoes. He breaks the kiss to pull away his sweater. He pushes his pants down and tears open a condom that looks like it just magically appeared out of nowhere.
I scoot over to the center of the bed to make room for him. He gets under the quilt and positions himself over me. He buries his face in my neck and thrusts himself inside me. I gasp. It hurts. My head is more ready than my body. He freezes for an instant and waits until he feels me relax. When I do, he stops holding back, he thrusts into me once, twice and the third time he roars “You're mine, all mine. ” Then he shudders and crumbles in my arms. Frustration doesn't even begin to describe what I feel right now.
I must have growled because he laughs and apologizes. “Sorry Love, I couldn't hold on. I promise, after I get some sleep, I'll make it up to you. ”
He tries to roll to his side but I hold on to him, “Please stay,” I pray. “I need you right here. ”
“I'm not crushing you?” he asks.
“Yes you are but I love it. It makes me feel alive again,” I answer. That gets a chuckle out of him. I'm glad someone's finding my frustration amusing. I'm finding it. . . frustrating. He relieves me of some of the pressure by leaning on his forearms. I look at his face and run my hands through his hair. It's much shorter than last year. Gone is the thick dark mane I could grab onto. “What happened to your hair?”
“In October I shaved it,” he says.
“Why would you do that?” I'm curious. I know the man's a little vain and I don’t see why he would give up his beautiful head of hair.
Looking a bit sheepish, he confesses, “It was a promise I made to myself. When you vanished I promised myself that if you came back, I would sacrifice my curls. ”
“Oh, that is so incredibly sweet,” I say pulling his face down to mine. I kiss the tip of his nose and his eyes and his chin and finally I nibble on his lower lip. He's almost forgiven for his thirty second fiasco. “I've never stopped being yours, even if I failed you. ”
“Why do you think you failed me?” he asks.
“Because I let them take your daughter away from us,” I say. My eyes are filling up with tears and I blink to chase them away. I want today to be a happy day but still I can't help myself so I tell him, “I'm so, so sorry, I tried as hard as I could to fight for her but I failed you, I failed her, I failed myself. ”
“Shush. We still have each other and we can make another baby anytime. Just say the word and we'll do it. ”
“Really?”
“Really but I have a confession to make,” he says. I study his face as he searches for his words. I have no idea what he's going to say.
“Love, you have to understand that your baby, I'm sorry, our baby, is an abstraction for me. I never saw her, I never even saw you while you were pregnant. Hell, I didn't even know you were pregnant before Andrew told me about it in October. I just knew you had vanished while I was on tour. ”
He stops and thinks. “Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that no matter how much I care for you, I can't really share your grief. ”
He rolls to his back and I rest my head on his shoulder as I try to wrap my mind around his explanation. The logical part of my brain accepts that what he says makes sense. He can't miss Eve when he's never even seen her. She's can't be as real to him as she's real to me. Still, I’m hurt that he doesn’t share my grief. It creates a distance between us. Ten understands and he mourned the loss of the baby with me. Why can’t Alexander feel anything for her?
I scold myself and think that, on the plus side, he's also saying he's ready to be a father if I want another child. I need to sleep on it because I can't think after only five hours of rest. Obviously he needs to sleep as well because he's already snoring. I close my eyes and go back to dreamland.
I smile thinking that when I'll wake up I'll be cashing a … sperm check?
***
CHAPTER TWELVE
I'm happy. My life is perfect. I'm almost afraid to think that. I fear I'm going to jinx myself.
Well, it's perfect if I don't think about Eve. I still think of her everyday but I'm learning to deal with the pain and to let go of my anger against the Bitch. Anger and hate are too energy consuming and there are so many more productive things I can do with my life.
So yes, my life is perfect. I have a job I love, I've got a home, a real home. Not just somewhere I go at night to sleep. I have a place I belong to where I spend time with my family. It's an odd family made up of four fabulous guys I’m differently crazy about.
There's Ten of course. He's a little less available these days because now that he finished his term finals, he's making up for lost time with his downstairs lover. He's not brought the guy back home yet and won't tell us his name but I got the dirt from the doorman. Giovanni is a model and a would-be actor who lives most of the year in Italy. I don't know what to think of Ten being so protective of his relationship. Could it be that he's in love or, just the opposite, that they're just sex pals?
Then there's Oliver. He works and studies like a mad man. He's changing departments again soon and is still undecided about what specialty he'll pick. I'm rooting for obstetrics but that's because it would suit my own personal agenda. It would be nice to have an OBGYN on call at home because we’re trying to have a new baby. An emergency specialist would be cool too.
The cute little intern we met in December has come back a couple of times but so have a few others. As far as we're concerned they're all called “Babe. ” It makes our life easier. Some days I think he takes the concept of rotation through the hospital too literally.
There's also Andrew, Alexander's brother who still apologizes profusely for the way he behaved on New Year's eve. He denies ever seeing me naked in the shower and argues that it was the liquor talking. I’m not so sure but I’ve let it slide. He’s made the resolution to stop drinking anything stronger than beer. I tell him to study to become a detective or a sergeant. I keep nagging him because he says he's not happy. If he liked being a patrol officer I would leave him alone but he bitches about it all the time and doesn't do anything to change it.
Last there's Alexander who moved in with us at the beginning of the year. He has to stay put in New York at least for the next three months doing studio work with his band before he goes back on tour. He's very busy with recording sessions and I'm busy with work so we're not crowding each other.
Right now I’m finishing this fabulous restaurant renovation project as the first assistant to Marc and he has decided that now that he’s sixty he won’t work on weekends anymore so my schedule is not as bad as when I started. I now get my weekends.
Last Sunday I spent the day in the studio with Alexander. After everybody left we recorded the song we wrote together a little more than a year ago; just him at the piano and our two voices. I was so excited when I listened to us afterwards. I think the song is perfect with two voices. He needs to find a good female performer to put the song in his next album. We've got a date tonight but it's been a very long week and the only thing I really want to do is to go to bed and not hang out in some smoke filled bar.
As I enter our place, I call out “Anybody home?” I go to the kitchen to get myself a glass of water. I'm very thirsty these days. I'm trying to remember if I was thirsty when I started expecting Eve. I don't remember but then I hadn’t even realized I was pregnant then. The apartment is totally silent. Strange, usually on Fridays at 6 p. m. everybody's home. Maybe Alex's studio time got extended and he's taking advantage of the extra hours. That's cool, I'll nap and maybe then I'll be ready to party.
I open the door to the bedroom and find Alex sitting at the foot of the bed with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. I close the door behind me, kick off my shoes and climb on th
e bed. I kneel behind him to massage his shoulders. The recording sessions can get very tense and this usually soothes him.
“Hard day?” I ask.
He stands up as if my hands were burning coals on his back. I look up at him. “What's wrong?”
“Everything,” he says with a defeated look that I've never seen on him.
“Everything?” I don't understand.
“Yeah, what part of everything don't you get?” he barks at me.
I don't answer immediately but take a deep breath and count to ten in my head as I process what's being said. That's a trick Marc Martin taught me at work when he realized I had one single spontaneous reaction to aggression, I fought back. It's like I've spent all my ‘flight’ answers living with the Bitch. Now I will no longer retreat, I can only fight back with the rest of the world.
Marc's method is working. I take my second breath and keep on counting in my head instead of screaming at him that everything can't possibly mean what's going on with the two of us. Alexander drops to his knees on the bed in front of me and puts his hands on my legs. He looks at me as if I'm a puppy he's dropping at the pound to be put down.
“I'm so sorry Love,” he says and my heart stops beating. Everything doesn't mean everything. It means us. My heart starts pumping again and the blood throbs in my temples. I open my mouth and gasp for air. I think that my soul just shattered in small pieces. He doesn't love me anymore. All my insecurities come back at the speed of light. Sure he's wanted me but no more. The only reason he's ever chased me was because I was the one that got away. I got away twice. He was really challenged because the second time I did get away in a spectacular fashion. Now, I'm here, all his, totally available, the magic has gone.
I close my eyes and bite back the questions I want to ask. Were those weeks of total bliss for me, weeks of total hell for him? I won't say a word. I have to spare myself the humiliation. I want to run away and hide but I have nowhere else to go. This is my home, this is the place where I'm supposed to be safe. I thought his arms were my shelter. Was I totally blind? Why am I this stupid? I blink repeatedly to make sure I don't cry and press my lips together to remain silent. I'm afraid if I open my mouth I will howl. I swallow hard. I have to keep some dignity.
