“And are any of those procedures you pointed out painful, or invasive?”
“Well… IVF and ITI would certainly be uncomfortable, but IUI? Not at all. No worse than buying a plastic syringe and pushing it up your snatch… and I know you’ve had plenty of syringe’s up that snatch of yours, you little slut,” Angie joked. “Why are you asking me this?”
“Do you think a guy with a low sperm count would have a better chance getting a woman pregnant the natural way, as opposed to insemination?”
“Um… no.”
“Why?”
“Because artificial insemination gets the little swimmers closer to where they need to be. It’s like the difference between swimming from Maui to Honolulu, and swimming from Japan to Honolulu, you get me?”
“And what if a doctor says different?” Zoey asked.
“Then that doctor’s a total hack,” Angie said, dryly. “Hey, why are you asking me this?”
“Thank you, friend. You’re brilliant, and a lifesaver, as always. I’ll call you later.”
“Uhm—“
Zoey hung up before her friend could say another word, waving her phone at Val. “See?”
“What?” Val shrugged, still amused at the conversation he’d just overheard. “Just because Angie said it, it must be true?”
Zoey didn’t even hesitate. “Yes. Val, I’m telling you, my friend is a fucking genius. She’s never wrong about anything. It’s one of her worst qualities.”
When their eyes met this time, something in her stomach shifted so badly that she had to reposition herself completely. His eyes followed every move she made as she stretched her legs and crossed them, while leaning back on her arms.
“That still doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want you in and out of hospitals on a count of me, Zoey.”
“What if we did it all at home, then? Angie said something about plastic syringes, and I know she didn’t just pull that out of her ass. I can call her back and have her elaborate.”
“No need. My hack doctor gave me about a million pamphlets that go over the at home remedy’s in astonishing detail.”
“Then it’s settled.”
“Not settled.”
“Val.”
“I should be doing this with someone I’ve already slept with.”
“Well, I’m sorry, but I’m not letting a stripper have your baby, Val. I feel like it’s my duty, not just as someone who knows you, but as a human being, to do everything in my power to make sure you don’t let a stripper have your baby. I mean, you’re talking like we’re actually going to lay down and have sex. We’re just talking insemination here.”
“Zoey.”
“The lights will stay on, and so will all our clothes. We’ll have Matlock playing in the background. We’ll find all of the most unsexy things in the world, and surround ourselves with them. It would just be you, jacking off into a cup—” Her eyes followed him when he suddenly stood up. “It’s not like we’d be…grinding or anything…”
Val fished his car keys out of his jacket.
“Wait, you’re leaving?”
“Yes.” He was already going for the door of the roof.
He opened it without looking back.
It slammed closed behind him. Zoey jumped when the impact made the daybed tremble beneath her, eyes wide as she considered what had just happened.
Perhaps she’d been a little too pushy with Val. It had been the first real conversation they’d had with each other well… ever, and she already had him jacking off into a cup, while Matlock played in the background?
She tilted her head back and forth with her lip poked out, understanding how that would be enough to drive any man away.
She, however, knew the truth. That wasn’t what had driven Val away.
In the middle of their conversation, he’d suddenly remembered that they “hated” each other, that they had “nothing” to talk about, that she wasn’t his family, or a person that meant something to him. It was as if he’d peeled away all of his layers, and then realized he couldn’t.
He still wanted to pretend.
And she’d let him. For now.
Five
“So what’s the case of the week my little Angelica Mars?”
“Don’t call me Angelica Mars,” Angie Colt demanded from where she was stirring her untouched oatmeal absently, while eyeing her best friend from over the table of their favorite run-down cafe in Brooklyn.
Angie’s skin looked tan and sun-kissed¸ like she spent most of her life lying on the beach, but she really only had her African-American father to thank. The bright green eyes that she was currently blasting Zoey with were courtesy of her Caucasian mother, Joyce, a woman who Zoey loved almost as much as her own late mother.
“I’m sorry, Angie, but the moment you chose ‘private investigator’ as a lifelong career, you kind of brought it on yourself. You’re automatically obligated to tolerate annoying puns and comparisons to the great investigators and spies of our time.”
“You really think Veronica Mars is one of the greatest spies of our time?” Angie asked, her green eyes growing wide from behind her thick framed, black glasses. Her slightly thin lips curled down in disappointment. “I’m sorry, Zoey, but it’s official. We can’t be friends.”
“Hey, Veronica Mars is a legend, okay? I will not sit here and listen to you trash Veronica fucking Mars, not at this table.”
“You sound psychotic.” Angie perked up. “Oh, wait a minute, of course you sound psychotic. You’re Zoey. For a minute there, I forgot who I was talking to.”
“You know you love me. Stop fighting it already.” Zoey looked at Angie out of the corner of her eye, bestowing a quiet pride on her friend.
Zoey and Angie had literally, run into each other their sophomore year of high school. Both distracted by god knows what on campus one morning, they’d hit each other head-on, with an impressive force for two girls, sending books, phones, and coffee flying. They’d both proceeded to wait for the blame game, the anger and annoyance that inevitably came from one or both parties when an accidental run in happened.
But, instead, they’d both burst out laughing, helping each other gather their things while talking about what insufferable, irredeemable klutzes they were. And they’d built a quick friendship. Zoey sighed, wondering where all the time was going. She felt like high school had been just yesterday.
Even sophomore year, Angie had a passion for private investigating. She’d even secretly looked into the murder of Zoey’s parents where she’d endured the rare, and unpleasant, feeling of coming up empty handed. Angie rarely failed, and she hated that one of the few times she did fail had been over something that meant so much to Zoey.
Most of the work she’d gotten in high school had been with other students, who paid in lunch money. The amount of evidence she’d collected on cheating boyfriends, lying girlfriends, druggie athletes, pedophile teachers, corrupt administration—the list truly went on and on—was absolutely astounding. So much so that Angie had already made a name for herself before she’d even walked across the stage to accept her diploma.
The work she got as an adult was much more important, and dangerous. Angie never went in-depth about her work, or her clients, but Zoey knew that she was in business with some very important people, and had a world of secrets rolling around in that incredible, massive brain of hers.
Sometimes Angie’s line of work worried Zoey. It couldn’t be safe to have the kind of information that Angie surely had on such important people. How long would it be before someone powerful, who knew Angie had all of their secrets, decided that they didn’t want her to have them anymore?
Zoey told herself to think positive. She’d already lost her parents. She didn’t like to think about losing anyone else. Especially not Angie.
Angie finally took a bite of the oatmeal she’d been playing with, swallowing politely before speaking. “So tell me more about you and Val talking. Last time I heard that guy’s name come out o
f your mouth, it was immediately followed by every four letter word in existence. What changed in a week?”
“What didn’t change?” Zoey asked, smiling as the waitress set her egg and pancake dish down in front of her, immediately digging in. “I’m starving,” she said, throwing a huge bite into her mouth immediately. “I dunno. He’s having some personal problems, so I brought him to the roof, and we talked for a really long time,” Zoey said, around the huge bite of her breakfast eggs.
Angie suddenly cringed at her from across the table. “Do you really need to speak to me while you have food rolling around in your mouth? Just swallow first, then speak. You make me crazy with that, dude.”
“I covered my mouth,” Zoey said, with food still in her mouth, while covering her lips with her hands.
“You just did it, again.”
“I’m sorry. I just have to talk about this, and I feel like there’s not enough time in the day, or words in the world, to get it all out. Me and Val… talked!” she cried, shoving another forkful of eggs in her mouth, covering her lips with her hand as she chewed, before crying, again, “Talked!” The eggs muffled her words.
Angie’s cheeks had gone pink. “I’m seriously going to kill you.”
“I’m hungry! And I need to talk.” Zoey took a huge swig of her orange juice, swallowing it all down. “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to do both at the same time today. This is epic.”
“How’s Roman?” Angie suddenly sang, while reaching into her bag and pulling out her book of the day with a sly smile. Angie read at least seven books a week, most of them fact driven. Zoey could launch twenty Jeopardy questions at Angie right at that second, all on different topics, and her friend would have the correct answer for each one without missing a beat.
“He’s fine,” Zoey said as her friend flipped open the book. She was convinced that Angie didn’t even read for pleasure, anymore, but because she was on some unannounced quest to be the most informed person in the world. Zoey took in the title of Angie’s latest book, Randomized Algorithms, and almost threw up the very eggs that had gotten her friend so irritated that morning.
“Randomized Algorithms, Angie?”
“It’s super fascinating,” Angie said, with excitement.
Zoey chortled. “Do you know how awesome it is that you’re reading a book like that by choice, not because some asshole professor is forcing you to? You’re awesome, man.” Zoey said, with a shake of her head.
Angie smiled bashfully. “You’re awesome, too.”
“I am. But you’re a genius.”
“I’m not a genius.”
“Listen… when you eventually get bored with us mere mortals, take over the world, and kill everyone…” Zoey waited for Angie’s green eyes to meet her brown. “All I ask is that you please spare my life.”
“Of course,” Angie smiled. “I already have you on my Lives to Spare list.”
“When you’re sparing the lives of people on your list, who comes first? Me or Roman?”
“I’m not dignifying that with an answer.” Angie flipped a page.
“You have him first, don’t you? You would spare Roman Romanovsky’s life before you would spare mine, your best friend!”
“Tell me more about talking to Val.”
“Oh now you want to talk about Val?” Zoey grinned. Angie had been in love with Roman since before she’d met Zoey, and she was terrified of Roman in a way that blew Zoey’s mind completely since he was the sweetest, most gentle Romanovsky by a mile.
“Wait a minute…” Angie suddenly looked up from her book. “Was Val the reason that you called me with all of those bizarre questions the other day? About fertility, and sperm, and insemination?”
“No,” Zoey said, a little too quickly. “I don’t want to talk about Val, anymore. I just want to eat my eggs, and not talk—”
“Fine with me.”
“While you read about your skews and algorithms.”
“Sounds great,” Angie mumbled, having already disappeared into her book.
Zoey smiled around another bite of eggs, watching her friend with love shining in her eyes.
***
“What’s all that?” Gary asked, later that night, from where he was sipping a beer in Roman’s kitchen. He, Val, Leo and Zoey had all met there to watch the game, which was scheduled to start in a few minutes.
Val and Zoey, however, looked like they’d already gotten started.
“All what?” Roman mumbled absently, preoccupied with the work files in his hands.
Gary pointed into the living area where Val and Zoey were huddled together. She was sitting on the edge of the couch, and Val was sitting directly across from her on an ottoman. They’d been in that position since the moment Zoey had walked into the house. Val had jumped up the moment she’d come in, as if he’d been waiting for her.
That’d been the first ping on Gary’s WTF-radar. Since when did Val give a shit when Zoey entered a room?
They were sitting so closely that Val had to spread his legs completely, just so both of hers would fit in between them. Their faces were a breath apart, and they hadn’t once broken eye contact with each other. They were so engrossed in whatever conversation they were having that they didn’t even notice when Gary and Roman proceeded to stare at them for several minutes.
Second ping. Val had spent the better part of his life ignoring Zoey's existence completely, now he couldn’t tear his eyes away?
“I don’t know,” Roman said, with a frown on his face and a tone to his voice that indicated Gary was not at all off the mark for finding Val and Zoey’s current position… questionable.
“I thought those two hated the fuck out of each other.”
“I think we all did,” Roman said, absently, going back to the files in his hand.
“Should I go say something?”
Roman finally closed the files, and gave Gary all of his attention, which he was obviously craving. “Why would you say something?”
“I don’t know, it’s just weird. He’s bothering her.”
“She doesn’t look bothered.”
“But…” Gary faltered. “They look like…”
Roman looked back to Zoey and Val.
“Like…” Gary stumbled, again.
Roman didn’t need him to finish.
Val and Zoey looked like lovers.
***
Oblivious to the two probing eyes zeroing in on them from the kitchen, Zoey leaned even closer to Val as he whispered his next words.
“I’d like to apologize for walking away the other night after you made me that… unbelievable offer. I’ve just been struggling, Zo, I’ve been struggling with a lot.” It’d been a few days since he’d had his conversation with Crystal, and the subsequent conversation on the roof with Zoey. It had all proven too much, but he still hadn’t been able to shake any of it from his mind. The relief he’d felt when Zoey walked into Roman’s house had been immediate. She’d looked at him from across the room, met his eyes, and at that moment he knew he’d already made his decision. He hadn’t known it then, but he’d made it that night on the roof.
He wanted it to be Zoey.
“I think that’s fair, given your current situation. What normal person wouldn’t be struggling?” she asked.
“No, that’s not what I mean. I mean I’ve been thinking about you, Zoey, and struggling.”
Her eyebrows jumped. “Oh…”
“What I’m still struggling with...” Val leaned on his knees, which served only in bringing him closer to her, while holding his hands in a prayer position in front of his face. “I’ve treated you horribly…”
Zoey bowed her head, and crossed her limbs. She had some sense of the words he was saying, but whatever cologne he was wearing was making it very hard to focus.
When she looked back up at him, his eyes were zoned in on her. He’d never looked at her from this closely before, not even on the nights he used to sneak into her room. He’d never looked into her
eyes this long, or quite this openly, and it gave her butterflies.
“Why would you do this for me?” he whispered. “After the way I’ve treated you?”
“Val.” She licked her lips, not missing the way his eyes fell right to them when she did, almost helplessly. “You’ve said some hurtful things over the years, yeah, but you also held me in your arms, every night, for my entire freshman year, and even some of sophomore year--before you moved to the dorms at Cornell. I assume it’s because the walls in that old house were ridiculously thin, and you could hear me crying from your room. Comforting me was surely the only way you assumed you’d ever get any sleep. Regardless of why you did it, though… you did it. It takes a lot to wrap your arms around a person, and leave them there for hours. I needed that very badly. I needed to be held. I will never, ever forget that.”
His breathing had picked up, and his eyes jumped back and forth between hers.
“Why did you do that for me?” She was unable to reel in her curiosity.
Val licked his own lips, smiling when her eyes fell to his the same way his had to hers a moment before. He licked them slowly, before gingerly shaking his head.
He wasn’t going to answer. “That’s fine,” she said. “It doesn’t matter why you did it. The point was that you did it. I’m asking you to look at the situation we’re in now the same way. Don’t worry about why I’m doing this for you. Just know that I’m willing to do it, and let that be enough.”
“I wish I could go back… and be different.” His eyes fell to his hands in shame. He hadn’t realized he’d been wringing them together, and willed himself to stop. They were mere inches from her bare thighs. He looked back into her eyes with effort. “I would do everything different. I was a jerk.”
“Yeah, Val, you’re a jerk sometimes--okay most of the time.”
A smile broke his lips, and his gaze immediately fell back to her mouth, shyly this time.
“But I never forgot those nights. There will never be words to adequately explain… how much they saved me.”
Taming Val Page 7
