by Rae Agatha
“That is so great, you’ve always wanted to write. I’m so happy you’re pursuing your dreams.”
“Thanks, but you know, so far it’s only been a part-time job in a publishing company, I work there as an editor, and freelancing for a few magazines. It’s not very impressive.”
“You’ll get there, Rick, I know you will.”
The kettle turned off and Monica made the tea. She put the mug on the table and sat back on her chair.
“How have you been?” he asked stirring the tea gently with a spoon.
“I got a BA in advertising. Tried my luck with some Chicago companies, but I wasn’t very successful nor was I satisfied with the jobs I was offered, so I came back about four months ago. I got a job at one of the agencies here in New York City.”
“With Nick?”
“Yes, we work together. It’s a total coincidence, but I’m here, thanks to it. Marty invited Nick, and Nick told me about the party. I’ve lost practically all my New York friends, I came back not really knowing anybody anymore, so I thought this New Year’s Eve party seemed like a great opportunity to renew the old friendships. I – I’m really glad I came,” she said and smiled.
She took a sip of beer, Rick was cautiously drinking his hot tea.
“I am really glad you came, too,” he finally said. “I am actually glad I came. Three days ago I was a total mess, it was debatable if I was going to make it here.”
“Well, my plan was to look for you anyway.”
He looked at her attentively and finally looked down, a bit embarrassed; she was making him feel shy. He loved it.
“Yeah?”
“Yes,” she replied and he saw a flirtatious spark in her eyes. He put his mug aside, leaned toward her and looked straight into her eyes.
“And why is that?”
Suddenly, Marty ran into the kitchen.
“Come on, people, it’s almost midnight! Rick, Monica, come on!” he took their hands and pulled them out of the kitchen. Everybody was already standing at the balcony waiting to see the display of fireworks from a distance. Rick and Monica took their coats and walked outside, too. At one point everybody started shouting “10…9…8…7…”
People were opening champagne bottles in a hurry and when the clock struck exact midnight, everybody started cheering and wishing each other a happy new year. Monica and Rick hugged most of the people around them and then they stood right next to each other admiring the fireworks. Monica delicately touched his palm, only stroked it, but he understood the gesture. He gently, but firmly grabbed hers, their fingers intertwined and they both knew it was the beginning of something special.
***
Around 2:30 a.m., the party was over and everybody was going home. Rick came to Marty to thank him for one of the best New Year’s Eve he had had in years (and he really meant it) and hugged Alice. Monica came to them, hugged the party hosts, too and they both left Marty’s place. The night was still quite young with many people, some more wasted, some less, walking around, singing, drinking from bottles hidden in paperbags and wishing a happy new year to everyone they met on the street. Monica and Rick were standing for a few seconds, looking around. It stopped snowing and it seemed it was a bit warmer; although it might have been an illusion caused by sitting in a warm place for many hours.
“Where do you live?” Monica asked.
“If you mean the part of the city, it’s Queens. If you mean a place, it’s a shithole”, Rick answered smiling.
“That great, huh?”
“Well, let’s see: the central heating is regularly down, the mailboxes are regularly devastated, and the neighbors are regularly rioting. Occasionally I have no hot water, but only occasionally, cross my heart.”
“Then why do you live there?”
“The rent is cheap, and you can’t really expect the place to be five star, not for that money.”
They started walking.
“I mean, I have some publishing plans, I need to save money for any potential promotion of my – um - accomplishments, if I don’t manage to find an agent. And besides, the place is crap only during winter, in summertime, it’s bearable. Where do you live?”
“I have a small loft in Upper West Side – I mean, despite what you probably think, I haven’t robbed a bank, I got it, actually.”
“You got it?”
“Yes, from my grandma.”
“Some awesome grandma you’re having,” Rick laughed cordially. “I was having. She passed away and in her will she left me the loft. It turned out, she won a lottery about four years before she died. Nobody knew about it and she bought a house for my mother and I got the loft. You should have seen our faces when we came to the lawyer to have the grandma’s last will read out. We were all expecting we were in Candid Camera.”
“That’s amazing.”
“Yes, although, I was living in Chicago back then, so I was renting the place out to the tourists at first. Now that I’m back, I have a nice place to live in.”
“Awesome.”
They were walking in silence for some time. It was almost 3 a.m., but none of them felt like they needed to sleep. There were fewer people on the streets.
“Are you tired?” she asked.
“No, surprisingly, I am not,” he said.
“So – um – perhaps you’d like to come to my place? Since you’re saying it’s cold at yours – “
“Sure, I’d love that.”
They caught a taxi and soon were on their way to Upper West Side. While sitting in the back seat, they were holding hands and he was trying to grasp everything that had been going on. That night, for the first time in seven years, he saw Monica, one of his best friends, a person with whom he had had a relationship that ought to be treasured and cherished the whole life. Then, she disappeared. Of course, a lot of the people he saw that night moved out after high school, some of them left because they got a job, some left because they didn’t, some left to get a degree. Among the people he used to be close with only Marty stayed in New York City.
Monica left for Chicago to study and Rick longed for her friendship, missed her dearly, but since she hardly ever replied to his letters or phone calls, he finally thought she had found some other people in her life, more interesting, more suitable for her. Seven years later, there he was, sitting with her in a cab, holding hands and going to her place. Surreal.
Around half past 3:00 a.m., they found themselves in the loft. It was a one-bedroom apartment with a very high ceiling. On the left from the entrance there was a spacious bathroom, ahead of the doors there was a TV set, a brown sofa with two armchairs and a heavy, dark wooden coffee table. On the right there was a bedroom, decorated mostly in white and purple. It had a big window with a wide window sill. Next to the bathroom there was a small room serving as a laundry and a storage. Monica took her shoes and coat off and asked Rick if he wanted anything to drink. He asked for some coffee and she disappeared around the corner. He hung his coat on the coat hanger and followed her. On the left from the living room area there was a kitchen area where Monica was pouring coffee into mugs and setting the kettle on the stove.
“How do you like it?” She asked.
“Milk and two sugars.”
“Umm – okay. And how do you like the place?” She laughed.
“Oh! It’s wonderful. So much space!” Rick replied, rubbing his palms to warm them up, and he meant it. It was great. Wooden floors gave it a cozy feeling, two walls were painted red and one was purple. There was a lot of positive energy in that place.
“Did you decorate it yourself, or was it like this when you moved here?”
“It was mostly like this. I only changed the paint on the walls and some few details like the curtains. I’d say it was like this in about 90%.”
Rick sat on the sofa and stretched his legs placing them on the lower ledge of the coffee table. Monica put two coffees on it and went back to the kitchen for milk and sugar. She also took a cookie jar and put some of them in a bowl
. At first she was wondering how to take all of it at once, but Rick appeared from behind and took the sugar bowl and the milk. Finally, they were able to sit on the sofa together. It was 4 a.m. and it started snowing again.
“Look, Mon,” Rick started.
“You’re the only person who has ever called me that,” she said smiling. “Yeah…so, you know, as much as I’m happy to see you and everything, I cannot, help but wonder where you’ve been all those years. I was writing, I was calling the dorm, and all you gave me were three short letters, a postcard and then we met twice when you came back to New York for Thanksgiving and Christmas. And that was it. During your second year at the college you stopped replying, stopped calling me back, like at all. You disappeared.”
“I know, Rick, I’m very sorry it worked out like that. I went to Chicago and, like, the whole reason why I left in the first place was to cut myself off from here, to leave it all behind me. I applied to different colleges out there, and I got accepted to Chicago, so I went there.”
“But why? You were my closest friend, and you left me,” he said and snapped his finger. “Just like that.”
“I went to college, I didn’t leave you,” she replied.
“You know what I am talking about. You stopped answering my phone calls, my letters, you stopped coming home.”
She did not reply only took her mug and drank some coffee. He was looking at her the whole time, waiting for any explanation. Perhaps it was too soon to start talking about the past, perhaps, if there really was something happening between them that night, it was wiser not to mention this whole painful side of their story, at least not now. On the other hand – why not? It took him years to let her go. Why wouldn’t he be given answers now that they were finally talking again?
“All this time,” he continued, “I kept asking myself if I did anything wrong? If I somehow hurt your feelings, if I failed you—”
“No, please don’t say that, it’s – it’s got nothing to do with you, with our friendship,” she said quietly.
“Then what happened, Mon? Why did you – abandon me?” He had never thought of it that way, but once he said it out loud, he realized this was exactly how he felt. “I’m sorry if my questions make you feel uncomfortable, but, I need to ask them. I think I deserve to know.”
“What if, for now, I told you one thing, straight from the heart?” She said.
“What is it?” He asked looking at her attentively.
“That I came back because of you. That you are the reason why I moved back to New York City.”
They were both silent for a few seconds. He was trying to comprehend everything that was going on. Monica came back because of him? For him?
“Why?” He asked frowning his eyebrows and listening to her with focus.
“Because I – I missed you.”
“Oh come on,” he got up and took some steps back and forth in the living room. “You missed me but seven years ago you practically decided not to have anything to do with me. You shunned me.”
“Seven years ago, I was a different person. I needed those seven years to come back.”
“What happened before you left? What were you running away from? Because you were, weren’t you? That would be the only logical explanation.”
Monica took her mug, drank some coffee and put it away. She sighed and leaned on the sofa’s backrest.
“I can’t tell you. Not now,” she said sadly.
“But I deserve to know.”
“Yes, and I deserve to decide when I’m ready to tell you. Trust me, Rick, I will. Eventually.”
He sat back next to her, took a few sips of coffee and looked at her. What happened seven years ago, Monica? He thought.
Deep down, he knew something horrible must have happened, something she still had a problem talking about. He sighed. If she needed time, he would give her all the time in the world. It was her comfort zone and her decision.
“What do you mean you missed me?” He finally asked and couldn’t help but smile delicately.
Instead of answering, Monica just leaned closer to him, took his mug out of his hand and sat astride on him. She looked deep into his eyes, put her palms on his face, stroked his cheeks, and kissed him, timidly, as if she was making sure he wanted this, too. Rick, surprised at first, moved his head slightly away. She stopped kissing him and was looking straight into his eyes again. He touched her cheeks, tenderly brushed her hair with his fingers allowing it to hide a bit behind her ears. Everything around them seemed to have slowed down. Rick looked into her eyes and moved his head closer. It wasn’t until that particular moment that he finally, truly understood she came back. That it was really her. That she came back because he mattered to her.
Monica licked her lips and allowed him to kiss her. He was stroking her head while kissing her, but soon their breaths became faster, Rick took off her sweater and she started unbuttoning his shirt. He stroked her thighs, put his hands on her back, and pushed her to lie down on the sofa.
“What are we doing?” He whispered into her ear while sliding her bra off her shoulders.
“We’re ending our friendship,” she replied.
The blizzard outside was becoming so dense it was impossible to see anything within two yards. A dimmed light from street lamps was lurking into the living room and the wind was wailing in the distance. Rick and Monica were not aware of any of that, for them the world had disappeared.
***
When Rick woke up in the bedroom it was almost noon. The sun was shining straight into his eyes through an uncurtained window. He slowly looked around and saw Monica’s head on his chest. She was breathing calmly and regularly, still fast asleep. Rick smiled, embraced her with one arm and kissed the top of her head. He was gently stroking her shoulder when Monica lazily woke up, stretched a little bit and looked up at him.
“Good morning,” she said.
“Happy New Year,” he replied and she leaned closer to him and kissed him.
“What time is it?”
“Hey, I’ve thought that the happy know no hours,” he laughed. “It’s ten minutes past noon. How did you sleep?”
“Good, very good,” she replied and combed her hair with her fingers. “How about some breakfast?”
“Sounds good.”
“Great. You go ahead and make it, I’ll take a shower,” she replied smiling cheekily, got up and left the bedroom.
“Well played!” He exclaimed amused and got up as well.
“If you want some aspirin for your cold, check out the kitchen cabinet just above the sink. I’ve got some medicine there, help yourself!” Monica shouted from the bathroom and turned the water on.
Feeling good enough not to eat up Monica’s medicine supplies, Rick dressed up and went to the kitchen area. He opened the fridge seconds wondering what to prepare. Finally, a decision was made – scrambled eggs. He spent a few minutes walking around the kitchen looking for butter, a frying pan, and something to stir the eggs with. Once everything was settled, he looked at the living room area and spotted a mug knocked over on the coffee table. There was a huge coffee stain both on it and on the floor. Rick took some paper towels, poured some water in a glass and started cleaning the mess. He was doing it for a while, as the stain was caked, when he suddenly heard Monica running out of the bathroom. It occurred to him he had left the frying eggs on the cooker and completely forgot about them while being busy cleaning the floor.
“Shit, I’m sorry!” He said and immediately got up.
“It’s okay, no worries,” she replied and turned the gas off. The smell of burnt eggs and bacon was present in every corner of the room. Rick opened the living room window and quickly closed the bedroom door to prevent the reek from spreading around the apartment.
“I got busy cleaning the floor,” he said a bit embarrassed.
“It’s okay, Rick, really nothing happened,” she said friendly. At that point they both started laughing. It all seemed so silly.
“How did it
go with the floor?” Monica asked.
At this moment Rick noticed she was standing there wearing only her wrapper. Her wet hair was sticking to her chin and cleavage. He came closer to her and leaned on her while she was standing next to the kitchen cabinets.
“It’s clean,” he said a bit hoarsely and started unwrapping her clothes.
“Well, since it’s almost 1 pm, we might as well order a takeout lunch instead of having breakfast,” she said, having her eyes closed.
“We might, but how about ordering dinner, not lunch; what do you think?” he asked and lifted her up helping her sit on the cabinet.
“I think it’s a great idea.”
***
Perhaps under different circumstances, the transition from being friends to being lovers would have been awkward to say the least. In Rick and Monica’s case it seemed only natural. They both felt as if those seven years when they were apart never happened, as if it was only yesterday that they were getting ready for the prom or planning where to go biking during the weekend. Even though, they had never crossed that line when they were younger, it felt as if they were both aware it would have eventually happened, but they weren’t just ready for it all those years ago. Perhaps they needed the time to mature, to discover what they both needed, what expectations they both had, before being together. It did not matter at that point. During that New Year’s Eve party when they found each other again, they knew exactly what they wanted, they both felt it. The magic that had been drawing them together, exploded with incredible force; hungry, craving for more after the seven long years of starvation.
