The insufferable mr flet.., p.15
The Insufferable Mr. Fletcher, page 15
After they’d tested both her ability to set up and break down the tent, as well as tie, hang, and lie in the hammock, Davis moved on to her safety kit. She had an impressive collection of things already. Her cousin Fernanda’s old cast-off backpack, solar-powered battery charger, UV water purifier, and crank light were still in excellent condition. He checked the sharpness of her knife and proffered a multi-tool, insisting it was worth carrying around and not needing it rather than the alternative. He also insisted that she carry a length of duct tape wrapped around a pencil, a transistor radio, and, hilariously, a deck of playing cards. Once Davis was satisfied that Junior could use, pack, and haul all of her things, they were ready to call it a night.
“I always forget that you’re a Wilderness Guy under all of that buttoned-up Office Guy.” Junior laid out brand new travel-sized toiletries and toothbrush for him to use.
“Ah, yes–centuries of knowledge and carefully preserved traditions held sacred by our elders and lovingly passed down through generations boiled down to…Wilderness Guy,” he teased.
“You know what I mean!” She hip-checked him and he tugged on her bun in acknowledgement.
Watching as she began her nighttime routine, it struck Davis how natural being with her was for him. He enjoyed hearing about her day and the way she honed in on little things about his. He wondered if she held back out of habit or if she had a genuine aversion to joining their lives. Was there something Junior was waiting for? Was there something he could do to give it to her? He was willing to push at that bruise one more time.
“You know... my skills as a so-called Wilderness Guy keep me more sharp and adaptable than Office Guy.” He leaned on the wall behind her.
“Is that so?” she smiled at him in the mirror.
“It is. It’s important to be able to change course, adjust your route, when the original path is obstructed.”
“Mmm.”
“Out of curiosity, what are you going to do with all that after?” he asked casually.
“After what?” she said to her reflection, swiping a cotton ball soaked in witch hazel across her face.
“After I leave.”
“I don’t know, throw it out?” she shrugged.
“I won’t have finished any of it.”
“So?” her brow creased.
“So? Wouldn’t it make sense to leave a small stash of things here for me to use whenever I stay over?”
“Hijo de puta!” She muttered, cursing herself for falling into his trap. “I cannot believe you’re starting this again. First of all, you staying here tonight wasn’t planned and if you felt strongly enough about it, you could call a car to take you home and save these precious toiletries,” she pointed out. “Secondly, because you, like many North American men, have bought into the myth of gendered clothing, you don’t have a bag or purse or satchel to hold an emergency kit of supplies. Your loss. Lay it directly at the feet of the patriarchy, by the way.” She stepped on the pedal of her garbage can and dropped the cotton ball in it. “Third, if it means that much to you to keep this random generic sampling of things, be my guest.” She faced him with her arms crossed over her chest.
This righteous vexation–her eyes full of challenge, her posture defiant–always heated his blood. He should probably scratch beneath that surface.
“Maybe an evening packing your gear helped me realize how very passionate I am about travel-sized toothpaste,” he cracked.
“Is that what this is all about?”
He brought his shoulders to his ears, “Maybe?”
“Far be it from me to stand in the way of your passions.” Junior leaned over and pulled out a mesh basket from under the sink. “We have one for whitening, one for total oral health...this one’s for sensitive teeth.” She pawed through the samples from the dentist, holding them up to his inspection.
“How about I use yours?”
“My what?” Her eyes widened in alarm.
Davis stood in front of her, their toes touching, and said, “Your toothbrush. We can share.”
“That’s disgusting.” She shuddered, dropping the toothpastes back into the basket.
“I thought about it and I’m beginning to see your point. I’m willing to pivot. Why have two of all our things? You should use my toothbrush when you’re at my place and I’ll use yours when I’m here.”
“Stop it. That’s not funny, all right? I put that in my mouth!”
“You put other things of mine in your mouth.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully. “It makes a certain kind of sense, don’t you think?”
“I’m going to barf if you don’t knock it off.” She heaved a little in earnest.
“Let’s start now.” He reached for her toothbrush.
“Absolutely not!” Junior clutched it to her body and fled. His hysterical laughter followed her down the hall. He knew he’d pay for that bit of torment; Junior would make sure of it. But as he wiped the tears of laughter from his cheeks, he had no regrets.
Chapter 14
Coming down the stairs as AJ and Quinn were catching Roxanne up on some gossip, Junior announced, “I think Leigh is here.”
They were gathered at Roxanne’s for the season finale of the delightfully trashy Turkish soap they watched as a group.
After her thirtieth birthday weekend, the bond was cemented between Junior’s disparate group of friends and these binge-watch evenings, better than any book club, became cornerstones of Junior’s calendar. They’d tried watching it on the phone, and even once via video chat, but it wasn’t the same. In the end, they agreed that they would wait until they could all gather together to watch the shows.
They’d got stuck in a British TV loop with the series about the five teens who were given powers after being struck by lightning during community service directly after the one about the young writer who doesn’t quite remember what happened to her after night of hard partying in London. Leigh eventually broke them free with the series about a teen South African swimming star who may have been abducted at birth.
“And Claire, too!” Claire said from the doorway, entering the house right behind Leigh. “Parking was a bitch. Why do you pay so much to live here if you can’t put your goddamned car anywhere?” Claire demanded in her signature profanity-laden style. The petite hospital facilities administrator hated the term biracial, explaining instead that she was a Black woman with a white mom, had a love of salty treats, salty language, and maintaining her rigorous fitness regimen equally.
“Why did you drive? Parking in The Beach always sucks.” Leigh pulled a cloth out of her case to clean her glasses. “And now you can’t have a drink.”
“I’m not drinking tonight,” Claire made her way into the den to announce, “because I’m fucking pregnant!”
“For real?” AJ gasped.
“For real!” Claire admitted as the smile broke across her face while her friends squealed and cheered and wrapped her in a big, messy hug. “We went to our first prenatal appointment yesterday. Fourteen weeks!”
“Thelonious!” Junior hollered, clapping her hands. The friendship that started out of convenience, them being the girlfriends of double-dating best friends, took root and grew a foundation of its own. Now, neither woman spoke to either man yet were fiercely loyal to each other. Junior was thrilled for Claire, even if she did worry that the baby would be born in a cross-fit gym.
“What are you saying?” Quinn asked.
“She should name the baby Thelonious–boy or girl!” Junior insisted. “They could be Theo for short!”
“I will do no such thing,” Claire said adamantly, flopping her body on the couch. “No matter how iconic Sir Monk was.”
“Booo,” Junior grumbled.
“I haven’t even wrapped my head around it yet. I’m still in a bit of shock. Holy balls, I’m going to be a mom! I need you to talk about something else for a minute,” Claire begged.
“It’s a sign. Why, this very afternoon Junior and AJ were room monitors at Ryan’s art class. By the time your baby arrives in the world, AJ’ll be a pro toddler wrangler, primed and ready!” Roxanne teased.
“They were so cute, you guys!” Junior could hardly contain herself. “They made little paper fans with popsicle stick handles. There was paint and glitter glue and stickers and teeny feathers everywhere!”
“I can still feel their slimy little hands on my skin.” AJ shuddered.
Junior and AJ were having dim sum when Ryan called to ask her aunt to come to her art class. Never missing the opportunity to indulge The Kid, she readily agreed. She Yes’d AJ into service but, after the class, added the promise of foot massages in recompense.
“Adversity builds character. Shake it off, soldier,” Leigh ordered. Having completed her time in the trenches, Leigh also wanted nothing to do with small children if she could at all avoid it.
Claire laughed. “So, no babysitting from you two betches. Got it.”
“We need a change of topic,” AJ ordered.
“Drinks?” Roxanne asked the room. “I’ve got a Sauv Blanc and a Malbec on the go.”
“Lemme help!” Quinn popped up. “Your pours are too big!”
“Don’t listen to her, Rocky. I like your pours,” Leigh countered.
“Agreed!” Junior called after them.
“You’re supposed to get five glasses out of a bottle,” Quinn reminded them.
“Pfft!” AJ laughed. “Not where I’m from.”
“Me either!” Leigh chimed in.
When you factored in the breaks needed for AJ and Quinn to dish about people they’d worked with or rumors they’d heard, for Roxanne and Claire to rewind and ogle any sexy bits, and time for visiting, ‘come over and watch some TV’ was roughly a four-hour commitment. They were now rounding the corner on hour six. Claire’s baby news, the cottage getaway Roxanne was embarking on in a couple days, and AJ’s new flame with Girl Kelly (plus Junior’s obligatory bashing of kicked to the curb Boy Kelly) was keeping the party alive.
“Okay, Angels. I must bid you goodnight. My evening takes me elsewhere.” Junior stood from her place on the couch and stretched.
Leigh squinted at her. “Where are you going?”
“Chasing dick, where else?” Claire laughed.
“You take that back! I do not chase dick. Rather, dick makes itself available to me,” Junior said with a flourish.
“It’s been so long, I wouldn’t even know what to do with one if it was laid out on a platter,” Roxanne sighed.
“What happened to Tow Guy?” Junior asked, alarmed that she missed something happening with Roxanne.
“You were dating a toe guy?” Leigh made a face. “A podiatrist or a fetishist?”
“No, I was banging a tow truck driver.”
Leigh nodded. “Yep–that makes more sense.”
“But now it’s over?” Quinn asked.
“Never mind that, I want to hear about your thing,” Roxanne said to Junior.
“It’s not A Thing, it’s just...a thing,” she answered, not wanting to get into any more detail about whatever it was that was happening with Davis.
“Should we get the stamp?” AJ shimmied.
Roxanne and AJ liked to joke that the brave souls who entered Junior’s bed should be stamped with a best before date so that they wouldn’t be surprised when her interest waned and they parted ways. Often it was a clean break since Junior never declared intentions towards church bells and a distant future. But sometimes the poor darlings were so blindsided by her seeming sudden change of heart that it got unpleasant.
Junior considered it. She wasn’t ready to talk about Davis. She worried that if she looked too closely at it, the spell would be broken. Too much focus on the way Davis erroneously believed always having her favorite fruit on hand would curb her candy intake or the weekend getaways she planned to nearby destinations because Davis enjoyed exploring local oddities might upset the balance. Junior shrugged and said, “It’s not necessary.”
For now, she would return to the happy bliss bubble he’d created for her and leave the outside behind.
Chapter 15
Davis looked over as Junior giggled.
“Would you rather fight one horse-sized duck or 100 duck-sized horses?”
Davis considered the options. “Easy–a horse-sized duck.”
“Agreed.” She was scrolling through her socials, stopping now and then to show him a funny video or meme. Often, she simply chuckled or made a scoffing noise to herself and kept scrolling. A moment later she asked, “Do you think a hotdog is a sandwich? There’s heated discourse on the matter.”
Davis loved debating obscure, ultimately meaningless topics with her. They could argue for hours about whether Kermit and Piggy’s progeny would be hatched or birthed, or if ‘salad’ inherently implied fresh produce. Her phone made a now-familiar chime.
“Rocky says hi,” Junior smirked at her phone.
“Rocky says hi…to me?” he asked, surprised.
“Uh-huh.”
“Your best friend Roxanne told you to say hi to Davis?” he clarified.
“Essentially.”
“The way Sapó essentially means ‘Eyes and Ears,’ but literally means snitch?”
“Technically ‘Eyes and Ears’ also means snitch, so...,” Junior was unapologetic.
“She doesn’t know about me.” Davis was a little disappointed. He hadn’t thought Junior was singing in the streets like some animated fairy princess but part of him hoped that she’d confided in someone about them.
“Rocky knows that I am not alone and that I am not alone at not my house and that I’ve been not alone at not my house for some days now and she said to say hi.”
Davis accepted this as the gesture it was. She had told Roxanne, however obliquely. “Tell her I say hi back.”
She typed his reply and nodded to herself before returning to her book about the amateur astronomer who gets hired as a governess to two precocious orphans.
Davis pulled her feet in his lap and absently rubbed them while he worked. Junior was one of the smartest, savviest people he knew and she’d never once conflated his slow reading with his level of intelligence. Which was probably why he didn’t feel the sting of embarrassment he normally felt when having to read with an audience.
There were always emails and story notes and logistics to get through. It was a lot, but Davis had never felt surer about the shape his life was taking. Junior smiled up at him, wriggling her toes against his stomach and at that moment, he knew this was everything he wanted.
“What?” she nudged him with her foot.
He let his head fall back on the couch and closed his eyes.
“What?” she asked again, more insistent when he’d taken too long to answer. He felt the weight of her scrutiny. Before he could address it, she straightened on the couch. “I’m gonna go,” she said, pulling her feet from his lap.
“What? Why?” Davis held her ankle in a vice-like grip, his eyes clear and focused on hers.
“You seem busy.”
“Junior,” he chided, turning his head back to the ceiling. She hadn’t even tried to be convincing.
“I mean, you have a lot going on. I don’t want to get in the way.” This, at least, sounded believable.
“C’mere.” He tugged on her ankle until she was in his lap. Davis rested a hand on her hip and squeezed gently. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing!” She squirmed under his gaze. “I just think I should go,” she said, looking past him.
“Look at me.” She huffed her annoyance and rolled her eyes a little before settling into the eye contact. “Do you have somewhere to be?”
She shook her head.
“Do you want to leave?”
She shook her head again. “No.”
“Good. I don’t want you to leave either.” He squeezed lightly. “So... what’s going on?” His voice was gentle and steady but he remained focused.
Davis waited quietly for her to gather her thoughts. Junior’s skittishness was as familiar to him as the sound of his own voice. He had no idea what had spooked her, but if he let her run now, he’d lose the hard-fought ground he’d gained. It was the same when he wanted Junior to have keys to his place as was the weeks-long battle of wills to get her to leave things there when she spent the night. Looking at her now, her hair piled on top of her head in what she called a pineapple, wrapped in a silk scarf, wearing a ratty tank top and pajama shorts she pulled from a drawer in his room, he was certain this too would be worth it once they got to the other side.
“You looked drained. I thought it would be easier for you if I left. So, you didn’t have to ask me to,” she finally admitted.
Davis ran his hands up her sides until he was holding her shoulders. “How very considerate of you.” He pulled her in for a kiss. “I honestly can’t think of anything I want less,” he said against her lips before kissing her again.
“I’m sure there’s something.” She pouted at his playful mocking.
Davis caught her lip in his teeth. “Uh-uh.”
“Gallstones?”
“Do I want gallstones less than I want you to leave?” The laughter in his voice egged her on.
“World War?” she offered.
“I don’t think you’re doing this right.” He took her mouth again.
“You want war?” she challenged.
“Aren’t you always saying we can never achieve global harmony under capitalism? We might as well wait out the carnage here.” He kissed a path down her neck.
“A system that prioritizes the wealth of a few over the basic needs of the many by monetizing the planet’s finite resources is unsustainable,” Junior managed through increasingly ragged breaths.
“Noted.” He held her lusty stare. “Stay.”
“Like a labradoodle?”
Davis smirked with one side of his mouth, relieved. A snarky Junior meant the panic had subsided enough to make way for her trademark mulishness. “No,” he bit behind her ear. “Like a woman who likes spending time here, with me.”
“Tell me what made you so upset.”
