Tag Archives: things left unsaid

Tupperware Lids

container

 

He was arranging the fish on the cutting board when his phone rang. He washed his hands as fast as he could, but his thumb was too wet to slide the answer button. He whipped it across with the tip of his nose just as it was about to go to voicemail.

“Hello?”

“Hola!”

“Hey, Ashe! What’s up?”

“Alright, so: if I make you swear not to breathe a word of what I’m about to tell you, can I trust you to keep your word?”

“My word is my bond. Or, I think that’s how that goes, anyway.”

“Like, for real. You swear this stays just between us?”

“Cross my heart, an’ all that. What’s up?”

“Alright, so.” There was a long dramatic pause. Jason put the phone on speaker and started chopping mushrooms. “You swear this stays between us?”

“I swear! Now spill!”

“Okay…seriously, you can’t tell anyone I told you this.”

“Woman…”

“Alright, alright! So: what’re your feelings for Jenn?”

The rhythm in Jason’s chopping hand slowed a bit before he answered. “Well, I mean, I got…you know, I have a crush on her, but you know that. But she’s my friend and I don’t want her to feel self-conscious because of it.”

“Ha! I knew it! Weeeeell Jenn’s got a crush on you too.”

“Aw, fuck!”

“What?”

“I’m making dinner and I just knocked over my mushrooms. She’s got a crush on me?”

“That’s what she just said.”

“And did she, by any chance, swear you to the level of secrecy you just swore me to?”

“You’re diverting, and I’m not gonna fall for it. Duuuuude, you need to make some kinda move!”

“Well, I mean, we tried to go out before…”

“Oh, Jesus, that was two years ago. Try again!”

“I dunno. It seems like it’d be awkward.”

“That’s just cuz you’re so spazzy! Look, y’all get on great! Just do something you both like. Like, something y’all already do when you hang. Then just, you know…get romantic about it! It’s literally that easy.”

“Ugh. That could make things really awkward between us.”

“Oh, put on your big boy pants and get over it. You’re both grownups. If it doesn’t work out, just don’t go for the smoochies anymore whenever y’all get coffee. You move on. It’s what we do now that we’re all adult-y.”

“Whoever entrusted us with adulthood has made a terrible, terrible error in judgment.”

“Dude, I just got off the phone with her! She’s home right now. All she’s doing is reading. Ask her if she wants to hang and then bring whatever you’re making for dinner with you! Why am I having to talk you through this?”

Jason stirred the mint sauce. Ugh, talk about date-y cuisine. If he went over now he might as well buy flowers. “Look, I’ll…I’ll call her this weekend or something.”

“Call her now! Forget it, I’ll call her. I’m putting you on three-way.”

“Ashe, no.”

“I’m dialing.”

“Woman, I will take this boning knife and I will hunt you down.”

“Haha! Boning’s the whole point, Jason!”

“Ashe…”

“Oooh, it’s ringing. Hold on, Imma put you on hold.”

“Ashe!”

She put him on hold, alright.

The bass sizzled with the mushrooms in the sauce. He heard a woman’s voice: “Hello?”

“Ashe?”

“It’s Jenn. I think Ashe hung up.”

“Because she’s awesome like that, of course.”

“Ha! So what’s up? Ashe said you wanted to talk?”

“She called you to say I wanted to talk?”

“I…guess. So what’s up?”

Jason made a mental note to, if not go through with his threat involving the boning knife, then to at least make Ashe think he would.

“Well, nothing. Cooking dinner. What’re you up to?”

“Like, the same. Doing nothing, I mean. Reading.”

“Cool.” The sizzling fish popped in the sauce. “Uh, hey, you maybe wanna hang out tonight?”

“Sure. I’m not exactly dressed for going out though. Like, I think I just barely meet the dress code for my own house.”

He had an image of her then, sitting on the couch in stained pajamas, her bare feet tucked under her. Dark blond hair tied back, but still messy. Her face greasy and shining. Sitting there, looking perfect.

“Well, I could come over there.”

“Cool! You on your way now?”

“Uhhh…” The timer went off for the fish. “In a couple minutes.”

“Sweet! See ya in a bit!”

“See ya!”

Ashe texted him about a dozen times that night. “Try to kiss her!” “Try to kiss her!” Hold her hand or something!” “Grab her ass! (Actually no, don’t do that. RESIST, JASON, RESIST.)”

He didn’t see any of them till near morning. The fish that had been still sizzling when he got there grew cold in its Tupperware, the steam wafting from where the lid had never quite sealed. Jenn marked her place in her book, but the marker was knocked loose when the paperback fell to the floor. There were awkward pauses, and hesitant kisses, then held hands and hooked arms. The nerve wasn’t in him to go far, so she pulled him close until courage was a moot point. They would wait until sunrise to see if anything had been accidentally shoved away.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Fiction, Miscellaneous

Company

watching tv

 

Walter’s drinking tonight. He’s drinking this whiskey because it makes him think of his dad, and he misses his dad. He’s drinking so much of it because Lin’s here, and through no fault of her own she makes him nervous.

They’re watching a scary movie, both of them sunk deep into the overstuffed leather couch Walter’s mom left behind when she moved away with her new husband. Walter pays utilities and a small sum that can only charitably be called rent. His brother works in New Hampshire and his sister is studying in Toronto. He likes being by himself. He likes Lin’s company more.

They have their feet propped up on the coffee table. Walter wears jeans and heavy boots, even though winter is barely more than an early spring in Jacksonville. Lin’s bare ankles are draped over his. She’s dressed more for the region than he is, in a belt-like pair of shorts and a soft pink tank. She’s kicked off the blue All-Stars she favors, and the glow of the TV illuminates her feet through the mesh running socks she has on. The image makes Walter think of an x-ray.

It’s getting late and they can both feel it, Lin because she gets up early to go running every day, and Walter because he’s drinking too much. The movie comes to an end, the heroine dragged screaming into some creature’s lair, and credits begin their slow crawl to eerie, somber music. Walter barely notices. He’s a little hypnotized by the smooth glow of Lin’s legs in the light of the white lettering. Because he’s her friend and she cares about him, she pretends not to notice.

The menu screen pops up, and Walter reaches overhead and flips the light on. Lin takes a final swig of her beer.

“You good to drive?” he asks, but of course she is. The entire night she’s only made it about halfway down the bottle.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” She stands and stretches, yawning as she bends down to pull on her shoes. Walter’s dog, alerted by the light, wanders into the living room and watches her. Walter does his best to be less conspicuous than his dog, but the sight of her shimmering black hair slipping from her shoulders makes him feel like he has to swallow.

He gets up, slowly, to make sure he isn’t too drunk to stand, but he’s able to keep himself steady and he walks with her to the door. His cat patters between them, looking from one to the other. The animal either wants attention or treats, or both.

Like we all do.

The porch light is a soft amber color, and Lin’s own amber skin glows beneath it. It doesn’t shine; it glows.

Walter runs a self-conscious hand across his unshaven face, makes a casual motion to smooth down his chronic bedhead. He leans against the door frame as they chat. He listens to her but he also thinks about how her eyeliner makes her brown eyes look smoky, how she hates the light acne scarring at her temples, the scarring he suspects people only notice after she’s pointed it out. He thinks these things but he also listens.

He worries he has pickle breath. Lin hates pickles, and earlier he warned her not to get too close after he’d eaten one.

She’d elbowed him. “How close we talkin’ about here? Cuz at a certain point I’m not gonna care that you had pickles.”

Not a signal. He knows that. He wants it to be, but he knows better than to assume.

They talk a little longer, and then they say goodnight, and he catches himself almost leaning in to kiss her. Almost. His neck loosens and he feels himself reflexively about to lean in. But there is no movement, and Lin remains unaware of the trespass he almost went for.

He drinks too much, he realizes.

And then she’s walking to her car, and backing out, and when he closes the door he leans against the frame and watches the headlights trace across the wall. He groans and thumps his head a little against the molding.

He looks down. His cat and his dog sit beside each other, both looking up at him. They always look mildly surprised. Like we all do.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He grins and pets them with both hands, rubbing behind their ears. “I know, ya judgmental bastards.”

He walks to the kitchen, and they both get up to follow. Because he’s moving for the food bowls. Because he might not be feeding them after all. Because he’s just there, and because they want to be around those they love. Without condition. Without expectation.

Like we all do.

Leave a comment

Filed under Fiction, Miscellaneous