Sunday, January 10, 2016
Saturday, January 9, 2016
Lauren: Adults
Spending the night with Alex is nice. I can't believe how much I missed sleeping next to him. I don't even know who I am anymore. We're half asleep and still curled together (well, I'm curled. He's flat on his back which is pretty much the only way he can sleep, which sounds like the worst torture to me) when his mom barges into his room. "Oh," she says, seeming confused. "I forgot you were here, Lauren." However, she makes no move to leave. In fact, she smiles brightly at us both. "Merry Christmas!"
"Mom, seriously," Alex groans. "We'll be down in a little while." As an afterthought, he adds, "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas," I echo, trying to sound more cheerful than Alex. It's a stretch, because I'm still sleepy and it's early and she totally barged in on us.
She purses her lips and then says, "Okay, well I've got some muffins cooking for a light breakfast, since we'll be doing brunch in a little while. Lauren, you're welcome to eat before you go." Then she leaves.
"How nice of her," I mutter, burying my face in the side of Alex's chest.
He strokes my shoulder and cranes his head down to kiss the top of mine. "I slept so well last night," he tells me. "I missed sleeping with you. I really miss having sex with you, but even thinking about it makes me hurt, so..."
"Well, you just let me know when you're feeling up to it," I say quickly. "I'm ready whenever you are."
He chuckles, then says, "Laughing doesn't hurt quite as much, so that's a good sign. At this rate, I might be able to have sex in about a month."
I look up at him in horror and he grins. "I don't think I've ever gone a month without sex," I groan. "I mean, since I starting having it, anyway."
"It'll be more than that," he points out, "because it's already been a week."
"You're so lucky I love you," I whine, burying my face in the pillow.
"Merry Christmas to me," Alex teases me. "My girlfriend is mad because I'm injured and can't have sex with her."
"Merry Christmas to you," I retort. "Your girlfriend loves having sex with you so much that she's disappointed when she can't."
"I...have nothing," he admits. "Because that is pretty awesome."
"I hear there are men everywhere who wish their wives and girlfriends wanted to have sex with them as much as I want to have sex with you."
"There are also men everywhere who wish their wives and girlfriends didn't want to have so much sex," he replies, smirking.
I raise an eyebrow and look at him skeptically. "Oh, are you one of them?"
"Not at all," he says quickly. "I'm just enjoying the debate."
"You're the worst," I mutter.
"Yet you still want to have sex with me," he points out. I snort and flip the blankets back, starting to sit up. "No, stay a little longer," Alex implores. "I'll be nice."
I laugh. "It's not like I was being nice either," I point out, snuggling back into the bed. His bed is so comfortable.
We stay in bed for about 15 more minutes before we finally (reluctantly) get up. "Will you come back tonight?" he asks. "My parents' flight leaves at 4 so they'll be out of here by 2, I'm sure."
"I think I can manage that," I reply.
I change out of my pajamas and into the clothes I was wearing yesterday. I'm just going home to shower anyway. I stay long enough to enjoy one of Alex's mom's blueberry muffins, which are actually really good, then I wish everyone a merry Christmas (this time with a little more cheer) and head home.
I see that the delicious deli by my house is open so I stop in to pick up soup and a sandwich for lunch. Not much of a Christmas dinner, but I'm fine with it. I stick my food in the fridge for later, shower, and start looking for more jobs to apply to. I find two more--one that would be a pretty sweet job and one that doesn't sound great but I'm qualified and it would be better than being unemployed.
When I'm finished, I eat my lunch and put away the gifts I hauled home from Amanda's house. Then I recline on the couch and watch some trashy TV until Alex texts me that he's ready for me to come back over. It seems strange to have spent so much time with him lately, but I don't hate it. I gather a few things and throw them in a bag and then head to Alex's house. On the way, I stop to pick up pizza, surprised anything is still open.
I knock on Alex's door then let myself in. "No, no. Don't get up," I tease Alex, who looks awfully comfortable on the couch.
"You're in fine form today," he replies, shaking his head. I grin as I lean down to kiss him. "Hi," he says, when we separate.
"Hi," I say back. "I brought pizza. Merry Christmas." My phone slips out of my pocket and lands on the couch next to Alex. I glance at it and leave it, because I'll be on the couch soon. "Are you hungry now or should I put it in the fridge?"
"I'm starving, actually," he replies. "My mom's brunch was...healthy."
"How awful," I joke. I wander into the kitchen with the pizza and put slices on plates for us. I'd eaten pretty early and was hungry too.
When I come back into the living room with the plates of pizza, Alex is giving me a weird look. "What?" I ask.
"What's this?" Alex asks, holding up my phone.
"What's what?" I reply. "I forgot my binoculars at home."
The look on Alex's face says he doesn't appreciate my sarcasm. I set the plates down and take the phone. I click the button and see a text from Logan. The text says, "Here's the link for that networking group's site. Good luck job searching, let me know if I can do anything else."
I frown and sigh. "I quit my job," I say quietly.
"You what?" Alex asks, and I'm honestly not sure if he's just surprised or if he actually didn't hear me.
"I quit my job," I say, too loudly this time. I look up at glare at him defiantly, challenging him to question my decision. "Merry fucking Christmas."
"Laur," he says softly. "What happened?"
His tone is enough to make me relax my defensive guard that came up right away. "Sean's a misogynistic, chauvinistic motherfucker," I spit.
"Aren't misogynistic and chauvinistic pretty much the same thing?" Alex asks, looking genuinely confused.
I shake my head and roll my eyes. "No, they're not," I say. "They're similar, but misogyny is...oh, never mind. It's not fucking important."
"Maybe another time," he replies, nodding. "What did he do?"
I tell him the entire story, and by the end, Alex is almost as angry as I am. He looks like he wants to say something, and I wait. Carefully, he says, "I want you to know that I support you and what you did completely. And you might take this in a way that I don't mean it, but I can't think of a better way to ask. Why didn't you go to HR?"
"I was too pissed off. And he'd already talked to HR."
Alex sits up, wincing as he does. "But who knows what he told them? He can't just change your job, it's illegal. It's basically forcing you to quit. You should talk to HR."
"I'm not going back there. I'm not working for that asshole," I say quickly, shaking my head.
"No, Laur, that's not what I mean. You could sue them, or at least get unemployment."
"I don't want their money. I don't want anything from them. I just want to be done."
"I understand," he says. "But there are other women that work there, right? That work under him? He's just going to set his sights on another target and do the same thing to her."
I consider this, and I know he has me. "You're right," I admit grudgingly. "I'll call on Monday."
He grins. "Good." He pauses and looks at my thoughtfully. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I don't know," I reply, shrugging.
"That's not true," he says, shaking his head.
I shrug again. "It happened yesterday. And you were in such a good mood getting out of the house that I didn't want to ruin it with my shitty news. I was going to tell you tonight." I pause and quietly say, "And I didn't want you to be disappointed."
"Disappointed?" he asks, surprised. "In you? I honestly can't think of anything you could ever do that would make me disappointed in you. Except maybe vote for Trump."
I look back up at him and laugh. "You don't have to worry about that," I assure him. "It was just so impulsive, and that's not like me. But I don't regret it."
"You shouldn't," Alex says reassuringly. "You'll find a new job really quickly. In the meantime, if you need any help with--"
"I have plenty of money saved," I interrupt him. "And anyway, you're not even going to be working for a few weeks."
"I also have more than plenty saved," he replies. "And a really good short term disability plan."
We look at each other and I crack up. Alex grins, trying not to laugh. "We're such fucking adults," I gasp, laughing. "Jesus, listen to us."
"When did that happen?" he asks me, giving me a half smile. "Do you ever miss being in college?"
"No," I answer quickly. "I like being an adult. I like my adult routine."
Alex snorts. "Of course you do," he says, shaking his head. "Though it doesn't seem terribly adult-like to be eating takeout pizza for Christmas dinner."
"And not having any Christmas gifts," I add.
"Or decorations," he agrees, looking around.
We look at each other again and grin. "You're going to hate this, but I don't need any of that stuff."
"Oh, really?" I ask cautiously. I have a feeling that he's about to be really sappy.
"Really," he says. "Because all I need is you."
"Oh my god, you're disgusting," I groan, reaching for my pizza, which has sat untouched.
"Yeah?" he asks. "The worst?"
"The worst," I confirm. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."
"Mom, seriously," Alex groans. "We'll be down in a little while." As an afterthought, he adds, "Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas," I echo, trying to sound more cheerful than Alex. It's a stretch, because I'm still sleepy and it's early and she totally barged in on us.
She purses her lips and then says, "Okay, well I've got some muffins cooking for a light breakfast, since we'll be doing brunch in a little while. Lauren, you're welcome to eat before you go." Then she leaves.
"How nice of her," I mutter, burying my face in the side of Alex's chest.
He strokes my shoulder and cranes his head down to kiss the top of mine. "I slept so well last night," he tells me. "I missed sleeping with you. I really miss having sex with you, but even thinking about it makes me hurt, so..."
"Well, you just let me know when you're feeling up to it," I say quickly. "I'm ready whenever you are."
He chuckles, then says, "Laughing doesn't hurt quite as much, so that's a good sign. At this rate, I might be able to have sex in about a month."
I look up at him in horror and he grins. "I don't think I've ever gone a month without sex," I groan. "I mean, since I starting having it, anyway."
"It'll be more than that," he points out, "because it's already been a week."
"You're so lucky I love you," I whine, burying my face in the pillow.
"Merry Christmas to me," Alex teases me. "My girlfriend is mad because I'm injured and can't have sex with her."
"Merry Christmas to you," I retort. "Your girlfriend loves having sex with you so much that she's disappointed when she can't."
"I...have nothing," he admits. "Because that is pretty awesome."
"I hear there are men everywhere who wish their wives and girlfriends wanted to have sex with them as much as I want to have sex with you."
"There are also men everywhere who wish their wives and girlfriends didn't want to have so much sex," he replies, smirking.
I raise an eyebrow and look at him skeptically. "Oh, are you one of them?"
"Not at all," he says quickly. "I'm just enjoying the debate."
"You're the worst," I mutter.
"Yet you still want to have sex with me," he points out. I snort and flip the blankets back, starting to sit up. "No, stay a little longer," Alex implores. "I'll be nice."
I laugh. "It's not like I was being nice either," I point out, snuggling back into the bed. His bed is so comfortable.
We stay in bed for about 15 more minutes before we finally (reluctantly) get up. "Will you come back tonight?" he asks. "My parents' flight leaves at 4 so they'll be out of here by 2, I'm sure."
"I think I can manage that," I reply.
I change out of my pajamas and into the clothes I was wearing yesterday. I'm just going home to shower anyway. I stay long enough to enjoy one of Alex's mom's blueberry muffins, which are actually really good, then I wish everyone a merry Christmas (this time with a little more cheer) and head home.
I see that the delicious deli by my house is open so I stop in to pick up soup and a sandwich for lunch. Not much of a Christmas dinner, but I'm fine with it. I stick my food in the fridge for later, shower, and start looking for more jobs to apply to. I find two more--one that would be a pretty sweet job and one that doesn't sound great but I'm qualified and it would be better than being unemployed.
When I'm finished, I eat my lunch and put away the gifts I hauled home from Amanda's house. Then I recline on the couch and watch some trashy TV until Alex texts me that he's ready for me to come back over. It seems strange to have spent so much time with him lately, but I don't hate it. I gather a few things and throw them in a bag and then head to Alex's house. On the way, I stop to pick up pizza, surprised anything is still open.
I knock on Alex's door then let myself in. "No, no. Don't get up," I tease Alex, who looks awfully comfortable on the couch.
"You're in fine form today," he replies, shaking his head. I grin as I lean down to kiss him. "Hi," he says, when we separate.
"Hi," I say back. "I brought pizza. Merry Christmas." My phone slips out of my pocket and lands on the couch next to Alex. I glance at it and leave it, because I'll be on the couch soon. "Are you hungry now or should I put it in the fridge?"
"I'm starving, actually," he replies. "My mom's brunch was...healthy."
"How awful," I joke. I wander into the kitchen with the pizza and put slices on plates for us. I'd eaten pretty early and was hungry too.
When I come back into the living room with the plates of pizza, Alex is giving me a weird look. "What?" I ask.
"What's this?" Alex asks, holding up my phone.
"What's what?" I reply. "I forgot my binoculars at home."
The look on Alex's face says he doesn't appreciate my sarcasm. I set the plates down and take the phone. I click the button and see a text from Logan. The text says, "Here's the link for that networking group's site. Good luck job searching, let me know if I can do anything else."
I frown and sigh. "I quit my job," I say quietly.
"You what?" Alex asks, and I'm honestly not sure if he's just surprised or if he actually didn't hear me.
"I quit my job," I say, too loudly this time. I look up at glare at him defiantly, challenging him to question my decision. "Merry fucking Christmas."
"Laur," he says softly. "What happened?"
His tone is enough to make me relax my defensive guard that came up right away. "Sean's a misogynistic, chauvinistic motherfucker," I spit.
"Aren't misogynistic and chauvinistic pretty much the same thing?" Alex asks, looking genuinely confused.
I shake my head and roll my eyes. "No, they're not," I say. "They're similar, but misogyny is...oh, never mind. It's not fucking important."
"Maybe another time," he replies, nodding. "What did he do?"
I tell him the entire story, and by the end, Alex is almost as angry as I am. He looks like he wants to say something, and I wait. Carefully, he says, "I want you to know that I support you and what you did completely. And you might take this in a way that I don't mean it, but I can't think of a better way to ask. Why didn't you go to HR?"
"I was too pissed off. And he'd already talked to HR."
Alex sits up, wincing as he does. "But who knows what he told them? He can't just change your job, it's illegal. It's basically forcing you to quit. You should talk to HR."
"I'm not going back there. I'm not working for that asshole," I say quickly, shaking my head.
"No, Laur, that's not what I mean. You could sue them, or at least get unemployment."
"I don't want their money. I don't want anything from them. I just want to be done."
"I understand," he says. "But there are other women that work there, right? That work under him? He's just going to set his sights on another target and do the same thing to her."
I consider this, and I know he has me. "You're right," I admit grudgingly. "I'll call on Monday."
He grins. "Good." He pauses and looks at my thoughtfully. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I don't know," I reply, shrugging.
"That's not true," he says, shaking his head.
I shrug again. "It happened yesterday. And you were in such a good mood getting out of the house that I didn't want to ruin it with my shitty news. I was going to tell you tonight." I pause and quietly say, "And I didn't want you to be disappointed."
"Disappointed?" he asks, surprised. "In you? I honestly can't think of anything you could ever do that would make me disappointed in you. Except maybe vote for Trump."
I look back up at him and laugh. "You don't have to worry about that," I assure him. "It was just so impulsive, and that's not like me. But I don't regret it."
"You shouldn't," Alex says reassuringly. "You'll find a new job really quickly. In the meantime, if you need any help with--"
"I have plenty of money saved," I interrupt him. "And anyway, you're not even going to be working for a few weeks."
"I also have more than plenty saved," he replies. "And a really good short term disability plan."
We look at each other and I crack up. Alex grins, trying not to laugh. "We're such fucking adults," I gasp, laughing. "Jesus, listen to us."
"When did that happen?" he asks me, giving me a half smile. "Do you ever miss being in college?"
"No," I answer quickly. "I like being an adult. I like my adult routine."
Alex snorts. "Of course you do," he says, shaking his head. "Though it doesn't seem terribly adult-like to be eating takeout pizza for Christmas dinner."
"And not having any Christmas gifts," I add.
"Or decorations," he agrees, looking around.
We look at each other again and grin. "You're going to hate this, but I don't need any of that stuff."
"Oh, really?" I ask cautiously. I have a feeling that he's about to be really sappy.
"Really," he says. "Because all I need is you."
"Oh my god, you're disgusting," I groan, reaching for my pizza, which has sat untouched.
"Yeah?" he asks. "The worst?"
"The worst," I confirm. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."
Wednesday, January 6, 2016
Kinsley: Unimportant Things
We were up early on Christmas Eve to get in a full day of skiing. We spent the morning skiing together, then split up after a quick lunch break. Damien was a better skier than I was, so he went off to do some harder runs. We met back up and did a few more easy runs together before we called it a day.
I dragged myself back into the house and collapsed on the couch with my snow pants and coat still on. "You're going to get the couch all wet," Damien said, laughing.
"It won't matter, because I'm pretty fucking sure I'm going to die." It had been more than 9 months since I'd last been skiing, and I was feeling it. Tomorrow was going to be a problem. I weakly kicked my foot towards Damien and said, "Help, please?"
He chuckled and waited for me to unsnap and unzip the pants, then he tugged them down my legs, revealing my leggings beneath them. He took my hand and pulled me upright and I shrugged out of my coat, which he took and hung up next to my snow pants. "Thanks," I mumbled, flopping back down on the couch. Damien sat next to me, then reached down and wrapped his arms around my legs and pulled them up into his lap. He started gently massaging my calves, working his way from my ankles to knees. Once he finished both calves, he scooted closer to me and began massaging my aching thighs. He worked on my poor, tired thighs until his stomach growled.
"I'm starving," he admitted, patting my knee and shifting my legs back off his lap. "Come make dinner with me?"
"Do I have to?" I asked. I was comfortable and not sure if my legs would carry me to the kitchen.
Damien chuckled. "Only if you want to eat."
Groaning in protest, I sat up and took the hand that Damien offered me. He pulled me to my feet and I followed him into the kitchen. Once I was up and moving I was fine and I happily helped Damien make dinner. Neither of us were amazing chefs, but we both functioned just fine in the kitchen and it was fun to cook together. That's one of those things I would have made fun of someone for a year and a half ago, but now I love it.
After we ate, Damien suggested I take advantage of the big, jetted tub in the bathroom. "That seems like a great idea," I agreed. "Want to join me?"
"I'm not a big bath guy," he replied, shaking his head. He grinned. "Plus, I don't think the bath would be very relaxing for you. I think I'd be too distracted."
I shrugged and poured myself a glass of wine, then headed upstairs to start the bath. I found the switch for the fireplace on the wall between the bathroom and bedroom and flipped that on as well. I sunk into the hot water happily and spent about 20 minutes laying in the tub doing absolutely nothing. It was wonderful. That's all I really needed, and anyway I can't really sit still for longer than that.
When I walked into the bathroom, wrapped in a fluffy gray towel, I was surprised to find Damien laying in bed under the blankets. "Tired already, loser?" I asked, walking towards the bed.
He pushed himself up on one elbow and gave me a sexy smirk. "Waiting for you, actually," he replied, letting his eyes wander over my towel and down my legs.
"Oh, I guess I don't need this then," I said, letting the towel drop to the floor and stepping away from it, right up to the bed. He reached out and grabbed me around the waist, pulling me down into bed with him. I shimmied under the blankets and straddled him, leaning down to kiss him.
"How do your legs feel?" he asked, taking a break from my mouth to trail light kisses across my jaw and onto my neck. His hands ran up the backs of my legs, stopping to grip right below my ass.
"Mmm, fine," I replied, tilting my head to the side to give him easier access to my neck.
"Are you sure?" he asked, squeezing and kneading, then sliding his fingers to the inside of my thighs and massaging there. "I could massage them some more."
I groaned and dropped my head onto his shoulder as his fingers moved further and further up my inner thighs. "You're a damn tease," I moaned, nipping lightly at his collarbone in frustration. He answered my complaint by finally moving his fingers fully between my legs, stroking me several times before sinking two fingers into me. Fighting the urge to just hang out and enjoy myself, I reached behind my legs and wrapped one hand around him. He paused for a second then continued while I stroked him.
I didn't waste much time before I guided him into me. He groaned as I moved against him. The sex was fun and playful, and we spent almost as much time laughing as moaning. Finally, we both collapsed onto the pillows, breathless and no longer laughing. "But seriously," I said, once I had caught my breath. "I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to walk tomorrow."
"I have that effect on women," Damien said, smirking.
"That is not what I meant!" I shrieked, laughing again. "Not at all."
"Ouch," he replied, pretending to be hurt. "That was unkind."
"Unkind?" I repeated, laughing hard. "Unkind. You seriously just said unkind. Are you old?"
"Compared to you," he pointed out.
I snorted. "Don't even act like you're some dirty old man. You're not that much older than me. I actually don't even feel like you're older at all."
"Again with the unkindness," he said. "I think you maybe just called me immature."
"Or I called myself incredibly mature," I retorted.
"You? Incredibly mature? Hmmm..."
"Now who's being unkind, asshole?" I asked, but I couldn't even keep a straight face. Between spending the holiday in this beautiful winter paradise, all the sunshine and endorphins from skiing all day, and the amazing sex we'd just had, I practically felt high. I pushed myself up onto one elbow and looked down at him. "Damien?" I started, suddenly feeling a little timid.
"Yeah?" he asked, looking a little concerned.
"This is already the best Christmas I've ever had," I told him. "And it's not even actually Christmas yet. I just really appreciate you spending it with me here, away from our families. It really means a lot to me. I love you."
"I love you too," he replied, reaching for me. I scooted over to him and laid down next to him, dropping my head onto his chest and settling against him. He wrapped his arm around me and stroked my shoulder and upper arm absently. "I'm having a pretty great Christmas too. I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."
After the long day of skiing, it didn't take long for either of us to fall asleep. I slept soundly, not even waking up to use the bathroom. I slept until 8, which was pretty late for me. When I woke up, Damien was still fast asleep next to me. I got up and quietly pulled on a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt, then headed downstairs (slowly, because holy fuck did my legs hurt).
I turned on the fireplace, plugged in the lights on the tree, and took a minute to admire the snow that was falling. I'm 27 years old and snow on Christmas morning still feels magical to me. I finally dragged myself away from the windows and into the kitchen to make some breakfast. I dug through the groceries that Damien had gotten and pulled out stuff to make pancakes. I made pancakes and eggs and sliced up some oranges. I was getting everything on plates to take up to Damien in bed when he wandered sleepily into the kitchen.
"I thought I smelled breakfast," he said, kissing me on the cheek. "Merry Christmas."
I pouted. "I was going to bring breakfast to you in bed," I complained. "Now you're up and I can't."
"I'd rather eat in front of the fire and the Christmas tree with you," he said, smiling at the face I was making.
I couldn't resist that, and I finally grinned. "Merry Christmas. It's even snowing!"
"It is," he agreed, taking one of the plates and leading me out to the living room. "But Santa didn't come." There was definitely a lack of presents under our pretty tree.
"I got you something but it's not something I wrapped," I replied, shrugging. "Also, I was pretty naughty this year so Santa not coming is probably a good thing. I don't want to haul coal back to Denver."
"Well, I also got you something that I didn't wrap," he said back, chuckling. "So I guess we were on the same page."
We ate our breakfast, then each produced an envelope. "I have to admit I'm not a very good creative gift giver," Damien said apologetically as we exchanged envelopes.
"Neither am I," I replied, shrugging. "In fact, I totally ripped off someone else's idea for your gift, but I think you'll like it anyway."
I let Damien open his first. As I had said, I had blatantly ripped off Lauren's recent gift to Alex, and gotten Damien Denver Broncos tickets for their January 3rd game. I preferred gifting experiences to stuff whenever possible anyway, and this was perfect. "This is awesome," Damien said, kissing me. "Thank you. But there are two tickets, does that mean you're going with me?"
"Are you kidding?" I asked, making a face. "Look, I love you, but that's pushing it. Take James or someone that will actually enjoy it."
He laughed. "I could use a good manly day at the football stadium," he agreed. I wrinkled my nose and he laughed harder. "Open yours," he said. I did, pulling out a gift certificate to my salon. "Now, I'm normally kind of anti-gift certificate, but this seems a little different."
It was different. Mostly because I had mentioned several weeks back that I'd love to treat myself to a spa day to get a manicure and pedicure, massage, and facial, but I could never justify spending that much money on myself for something like that. Budgeting and smart spending were drilled into my head and that would be a large chunk of my discretionary spending money that didn't quite seem worth it. This gift certificate was definitely large enough to cover all those things. I looked up at him and grinned. "Thank you," I said. "I can't believe that you remembered that I said I wanted to go. How did you know where, though?"
"You have your hair person's card in your wallet," he replied, shrugging. "Sorry that I snooped through your wallet."
I burst out laughing. "I'll let it slide this time," I said.
"I should probably tell you that that gift certificate has some strings attached," he informed me. I raised an eyebrow. "I don't want you to give in to the temptation to be practical with it. I want you to go ahead and have your spa day and blow it all on the stuff you said wouldn't pay for yourself."
I blushed, because I had already been considering how many haircuts I could get with the certificate if I decided to go that route instead. He laughed, knowing he caught me in the act of trying to be practical. "I think I can handle those strings," I agreed. "Though I could get my hair cut for a year with this. I'll try being frivolous for once."
"I have to be honest," Damien said, pulling me against him. "I've always been really surprised that you're not an impulse spender."
"Rude!" I said, trying to pull away to swat his arm. He just tightened his arms around me and laughed. "But I guess you have a point. It's the one thing I'm not impulsive with. We all need something to balance things out, right?"
"Something like that," Damien agreed. I settled back against him, closing my eyes and listening to the soft whoosh of the fireplace fan kicking out the warm air into the room. Damien's gift may not have been creative, but it was probably the most thoughtful gift I've ever been given--if only because it meant he was listening, even when I talked about unimportant things.
I dragged myself back into the house and collapsed on the couch with my snow pants and coat still on. "You're going to get the couch all wet," Damien said, laughing.
"It won't matter, because I'm pretty fucking sure I'm going to die." It had been more than 9 months since I'd last been skiing, and I was feeling it. Tomorrow was going to be a problem. I weakly kicked my foot towards Damien and said, "Help, please?"
He chuckled and waited for me to unsnap and unzip the pants, then he tugged them down my legs, revealing my leggings beneath them. He took my hand and pulled me upright and I shrugged out of my coat, which he took and hung up next to my snow pants. "Thanks," I mumbled, flopping back down on the couch. Damien sat next to me, then reached down and wrapped his arms around my legs and pulled them up into his lap. He started gently massaging my calves, working his way from my ankles to knees. Once he finished both calves, he scooted closer to me and began massaging my aching thighs. He worked on my poor, tired thighs until his stomach growled.
"I'm starving," he admitted, patting my knee and shifting my legs back off his lap. "Come make dinner with me?"
"Do I have to?" I asked. I was comfortable and not sure if my legs would carry me to the kitchen.
Damien chuckled. "Only if you want to eat."
Groaning in protest, I sat up and took the hand that Damien offered me. He pulled me to my feet and I followed him into the kitchen. Once I was up and moving I was fine and I happily helped Damien make dinner. Neither of us were amazing chefs, but we both functioned just fine in the kitchen and it was fun to cook together. That's one of those things I would have made fun of someone for a year and a half ago, but now I love it.
After we ate, Damien suggested I take advantage of the big, jetted tub in the bathroom. "That seems like a great idea," I agreed. "Want to join me?"
"I'm not a big bath guy," he replied, shaking his head. He grinned. "Plus, I don't think the bath would be very relaxing for you. I think I'd be too distracted."
I shrugged and poured myself a glass of wine, then headed upstairs to start the bath. I found the switch for the fireplace on the wall between the bathroom and bedroom and flipped that on as well. I sunk into the hot water happily and spent about 20 minutes laying in the tub doing absolutely nothing. It was wonderful. That's all I really needed, and anyway I can't really sit still for longer than that.
When I walked into the bathroom, wrapped in a fluffy gray towel, I was surprised to find Damien laying in bed under the blankets. "Tired already, loser?" I asked, walking towards the bed.
He pushed himself up on one elbow and gave me a sexy smirk. "Waiting for you, actually," he replied, letting his eyes wander over my towel and down my legs.
"Oh, I guess I don't need this then," I said, letting the towel drop to the floor and stepping away from it, right up to the bed. He reached out and grabbed me around the waist, pulling me down into bed with him. I shimmied under the blankets and straddled him, leaning down to kiss him.
"How do your legs feel?" he asked, taking a break from my mouth to trail light kisses across my jaw and onto my neck. His hands ran up the backs of my legs, stopping to grip right below my ass.
"Mmm, fine," I replied, tilting my head to the side to give him easier access to my neck.
"Are you sure?" he asked, squeezing and kneading, then sliding his fingers to the inside of my thighs and massaging there. "I could massage them some more."
I groaned and dropped my head onto his shoulder as his fingers moved further and further up my inner thighs. "You're a damn tease," I moaned, nipping lightly at his collarbone in frustration. He answered my complaint by finally moving his fingers fully between my legs, stroking me several times before sinking two fingers into me. Fighting the urge to just hang out and enjoy myself, I reached behind my legs and wrapped one hand around him. He paused for a second then continued while I stroked him.
I didn't waste much time before I guided him into me. He groaned as I moved against him. The sex was fun and playful, and we spent almost as much time laughing as moaning. Finally, we both collapsed onto the pillows, breathless and no longer laughing. "But seriously," I said, once I had caught my breath. "I'm not sure if I'm going to be able to walk tomorrow."
"I have that effect on women," Damien said, smirking.
"That is not what I meant!" I shrieked, laughing again. "Not at all."
"Ouch," he replied, pretending to be hurt. "That was unkind."
"Unkind?" I repeated, laughing hard. "Unkind. You seriously just said unkind. Are you old?"
"Compared to you," he pointed out.
I snorted. "Don't even act like you're some dirty old man. You're not that much older than me. I actually don't even feel like you're older at all."
"Again with the unkindness," he said. "I think you maybe just called me immature."
"Or I called myself incredibly mature," I retorted.
"You? Incredibly mature? Hmmm..."
"Now who's being unkind, asshole?" I asked, but I couldn't even keep a straight face. Between spending the holiday in this beautiful winter paradise, all the sunshine and endorphins from skiing all day, and the amazing sex we'd just had, I practically felt high. I pushed myself up onto one elbow and looked down at him. "Damien?" I started, suddenly feeling a little timid.
"Yeah?" he asked, looking a little concerned.
"This is already the best Christmas I've ever had," I told him. "And it's not even actually Christmas yet. I just really appreciate you spending it with me here, away from our families. It really means a lot to me. I love you."
"I love you too," he replied, reaching for me. I scooted over to him and laid down next to him, dropping my head onto his chest and settling against him. He wrapped his arm around me and stroked my shoulder and upper arm absently. "I'm having a pretty great Christmas too. I'm glad you're enjoying yourself."
After the long day of skiing, it didn't take long for either of us to fall asleep. I slept soundly, not even waking up to use the bathroom. I slept until 8, which was pretty late for me. When I woke up, Damien was still fast asleep next to me. I got up and quietly pulled on a pair of shorts and a sweatshirt, then headed downstairs (slowly, because holy fuck did my legs hurt).
I turned on the fireplace, plugged in the lights on the tree, and took a minute to admire the snow that was falling. I'm 27 years old and snow on Christmas morning still feels magical to me. I finally dragged myself away from the windows and into the kitchen to make some breakfast. I dug through the groceries that Damien had gotten and pulled out stuff to make pancakes. I made pancakes and eggs and sliced up some oranges. I was getting everything on plates to take up to Damien in bed when he wandered sleepily into the kitchen.
"I thought I smelled breakfast," he said, kissing me on the cheek. "Merry Christmas."
I pouted. "I was going to bring breakfast to you in bed," I complained. "Now you're up and I can't."
"I'd rather eat in front of the fire and the Christmas tree with you," he said, smiling at the face I was making.
I couldn't resist that, and I finally grinned. "Merry Christmas. It's even snowing!"
"It is," he agreed, taking one of the plates and leading me out to the living room. "But Santa didn't come." There was definitely a lack of presents under our pretty tree.
"I got you something but it's not something I wrapped," I replied, shrugging. "Also, I was pretty naughty this year so Santa not coming is probably a good thing. I don't want to haul coal back to Denver."
"Well, I also got you something that I didn't wrap," he said back, chuckling. "So I guess we were on the same page."
We ate our breakfast, then each produced an envelope. "I have to admit I'm not a very good creative gift giver," Damien said apologetically as we exchanged envelopes.
"Neither am I," I replied, shrugging. "In fact, I totally ripped off someone else's idea for your gift, but I think you'll like it anyway."
I let Damien open his first. As I had said, I had blatantly ripped off Lauren's recent gift to Alex, and gotten Damien Denver Broncos tickets for their January 3rd game. I preferred gifting experiences to stuff whenever possible anyway, and this was perfect. "This is awesome," Damien said, kissing me. "Thank you. But there are two tickets, does that mean you're going with me?"
"Are you kidding?" I asked, making a face. "Look, I love you, but that's pushing it. Take James or someone that will actually enjoy it."
He laughed. "I could use a good manly day at the football stadium," he agreed. I wrinkled my nose and he laughed harder. "Open yours," he said. I did, pulling out a gift certificate to my salon. "Now, I'm normally kind of anti-gift certificate, but this seems a little different."
It was different. Mostly because I had mentioned several weeks back that I'd love to treat myself to a spa day to get a manicure and pedicure, massage, and facial, but I could never justify spending that much money on myself for something like that. Budgeting and smart spending were drilled into my head and that would be a large chunk of my discretionary spending money that didn't quite seem worth it. This gift certificate was definitely large enough to cover all those things. I looked up at him and grinned. "Thank you," I said. "I can't believe that you remembered that I said I wanted to go. How did you know where, though?"
"You have your hair person's card in your wallet," he replied, shrugging. "Sorry that I snooped through your wallet."
I burst out laughing. "I'll let it slide this time," I said.
"I should probably tell you that that gift certificate has some strings attached," he informed me. I raised an eyebrow. "I don't want you to give in to the temptation to be practical with it. I want you to go ahead and have your spa day and blow it all on the stuff you said wouldn't pay for yourself."
I blushed, because I had already been considering how many haircuts I could get with the certificate if I decided to go that route instead. He laughed, knowing he caught me in the act of trying to be practical. "I think I can handle those strings," I agreed. "Though I could get my hair cut for a year with this. I'll try being frivolous for once."
"I have to be honest," Damien said, pulling me against him. "I've always been really surprised that you're not an impulse spender."
"Rude!" I said, trying to pull away to swat his arm. He just tightened his arms around me and laughed. "But I guess you have a point. It's the one thing I'm not impulsive with. We all need something to balance things out, right?"
"Something like that," Damien agreed. I settled back against him, closing my eyes and listening to the soft whoosh of the fireplace fan kicking out the warm air into the room. Damien's gift may not have been creative, but it was probably the most thoughtful gift I've ever been given--if only because it meant he was listening, even when I talked about unimportant things.
Sunday, January 3, 2016
Lauren: Tomorrow
Happy Sunday, friends! Keep your eyes peeled for a Kinsley post sometime during the first half of this week, and another Lauren post sometime late this week.
__________________________________
The words come out before I can really think them through, but I don't regret them.
"Excuse me?" Sean sputters, and he looks genuinely flustered. It makes me grin, which makes him look even more confused.
"I said 'I quit'," I reply, standing. "If you don't want me to do the job I was hired for, then I'm going to find someone who does."
Sean quickly rearranges his face back to a neutral expression and says, "Well, alright then. Good luck to you. You have 30 minutes to collect your things." I think he thinks he's calling my bluff, but it's not a bluff. "As a matter of fact, here's a box for you." He grabs an empty box from the corner of his office and hands it to me, challenging me to take it.
I do. I take it, smile, and say, "Thank you, Sean. I'll be gone in 15." I don't keep much personal stuff at work. I just have a few textbooks, some snacks, and some personal office supplies, basically. For a fleeting second he looks shocked, but I turn on my heel and walk out of his office before I can see how long it takes for him to once again regain control of his expression.
As I'm putting my stuff in a box, I become aware of the curious looks from around the office. Logan walks up as I'm finishing. "Can I help?" he asks, looking more concerned than curious.
"At your own risk," I reply with a shrug. He glances over his shoulder towards Sean's office, then picks up my half-full box. I grab my coat and purse and start walking towards the elevator.
Once we're safely inside the elevator, Logan turns to me. "Did you...are you.." He stops. There's really no polite way to ask someone if they just got fired, is there?
"No," I say, shaking my head. "I quit. He's trying to turn me into a fucking secretary, and I've worked too damn hard for that." I glare at the wall as I talk. I'm not yet regretting my move, but I am starting to get a little nervous. More than that, I'm absolutely livid that that disgusting, chauvinistic bastard finds no value in my position as I was hired.
"What are you going to do?" he asks. I can't even believe he's in this elevator, holding my box and having this conversation.
"I have no idea," I admit. "I updated my resume a couple weeks ago, but I haven't actually applied for anything. Now I'm wishing I had."
"Look," he says, shifting to face me. "I'm a member of this networking group for structural engineers that might have some ideas. I can send you the information."
"Thanks," I reply. The elevator door opens and we walk out into the parking ramp. I find my car and Logan puts my box in the backseat for me. "Thanks," I say again, looking at him.
"Good luck," he tells me, briefly touching my arm. I nod and get into the car, and Logan walks away.
I take a second to consider what to do next. I still don't have any regrets. I have about 8 months worth of rent and bills saved up, plus a sizable-for-my-age 401k that I could cash out if I needed to. I'm not worried about money. Not even a little bit. I've always lived below my means. I am worried about not working. I enjoy working. I like being productive. The idea of sitting at home all day applying for jobs and doing little else makes me break out into a cold sweat.
I drive home and get right to work. I re-read my resume for the thousandth time, make a couple small changes, and then open my internet browser. I spend the next three hours methodically reading job descriptions, writing cover letters, and submitting my application materials.
By the time I stop to eat lunch, I've only applied for 4 jobs, but it feels like it's taken so much longer than it should have. I remind myself that it's because I'm writing cover letters specific to the positions and tailoring my resume as well when it's called for. Then I wonder if anyone actually reads cover letters. Am I wasting time this way? Ultimately, I decide that I'd rather potentially waste time and look like a well put together candidate than risk getting my resume discarded over a vague, generic cover letter.
I take a break long enough to eat a sandwich and watch a DVRed episode of Real Housewives. It refreshes me enough to apply to 3 more jobs before I quit for the day. I now only have about two and a half hours to make the dessert I'm bringing to Amanda's house and get ready.
I manage with 15 minutes to spare and I head over to Alex's house so I can be polite and wish his parents a merry Christmas. Alex's dad opens the door when I knock, and Alex calls, "You know you can just walk in, right?"
"I know," I reply. I feel weird walking in with his parents there, though. "Merry Christmas," I say to his dad, forcing a smile.
"Merry Christmas, Lauren," he says, and it's almost warm. Almost. I bite back a frustrated sigh. I will never win with them, and it's driving me crazy.
"Oh, is that Lauren?" Alex's mom calls from the general direction of the kitchen. I roll my eyes, because of course it's me. Alex's house isn't that big, I'm quite sure she heard his dad say, "Merry Christmas, Lauren." Also, who else would be here 10 minutes before 5 on Christmas Eve?
Sharon walks into the living room, drying her hands on a towel. "Hello, dear," she says, smiling just as falsely as I am.
"Hi, Merry Christmas," I say. From the couch, Alex snorts and I shoot him a dirty look.
"Mmm, yes," she replies, as though it just occurred to her that it's Christmas Eve. "And the same to you." Alex looks away to hide his smirk and I just continue beaming at Sharon with my fake smile.
"Ready to go?" Alex asks me, carefully standing up. I see him wince slightly as he does it. Tightening his abs to stand puts pressure on his broken ribs. Actually, just about everything does. I hope I never break my ribs. It sounds awful.
"I am," I tell him. "Here." I grab his coat from the hook next to the door and hand it to him as he walks over. He already has his shoes on and it's clear that he's in a hurry to get out of here. He thanks me and struggles to get his coat onto his arm that's not in the sling. I know better than to help him, but I hate watching him struggle. Finally he gives up and glances at his dad, who holds the coat so he can get his good arm into the sleeve. His dad drapes the other side over his shoulder.
"This is fucking ridiculous," he mutters. "My arm isn't broken, I don't know why I can't just use it."
"Because all the--" his mom starts, in a lecturing tone.
Alex cuts her off. "Yes, I understand why I can't use it, I'm just frustrated." She snaps her mouth shut and presses her lips into a thin line. I wonder briefly if she was ever a pleasant person. Did she ever have a sense of humor?
"I'll see you guys later tonight, okay?" Alex says, looking from his dad to his mom. "Lauren's niece is pretty little, so I'm sure we won't be there too late. Right?" He looks to me for confirmation and I nod.
We leave the house and get in the car. Alex manages his seat belt one-handed, adjusting it to not lay against his broken ribs, and I slide into the driver's seat. He sighs in relief as he settles into the seat. "I can't even tell you how happy I am to be out of that house," he tells me. "Come here." I lean over and kiss him. When I start to pull away he grabs my hand and I kiss him again. "I've missed you," he tells me, when he lets me go.
"I've seen you every day," I tease him, grinning as I start the car.
He snorts. "It's not the same with them hovering around." I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, and I can see the perma-glare that's been etched onto his face for the last several days has relaxed. He's actually smiling. I'm relieved that getting him away from his parents has improved his mood. "How's work been this week? Was Sean pissed that you called in on Monday?"
I freeze, playing off my pause as checking my blind spot before I pull onto the road. I'm nervous suddenly, not wanting to ruin Alex's better mood by giving him my news. "No, he wasn't even there. It was fine," I say finally, as casually as possible. I keep my eyes on the road, hoping that he won't be able to tell that I'm basically lying to him.
He doesn't seem to notice and he starts talking about how weird his mom acted today. "It was like I was planning to leave the country. Heaven forbid I leave the house for a little while." He shook his head. "I'll be relieved when they leave tomorrow. Is that horrible? Being excited for your parents to leave on Christmas?"
"I don't think it's horrible, but I'm extremely biased," I reply. I reason away my guilt at lying about work by telling myself I'm making Alex's evening out of the house more enjoyable. I'll tell him tomorrow. Or, maybe not. Tomorrow is Christmas. I'll tell him...soon.
It doesn't take long to get to Amanda's house, and my 6 year old niece Casey flings the door open as soon as I pull into the driveway. "Hey dollface!" I call as we get out of the car. Casey starts to step onto the front stoop, then glances over her shoulder, makes a face, and stands impatiently inside the open doorway, waiting. I grab the cake I'd made and my bag full of gifts and start up the walk to where Casey is bouncing impatiently.
"Merry Christmas, Aunt Lauren and Alex!" she squeals when we get close enough.
"Merry Christmas to you too, sweet girl," I reply. My hands are full so I lean down and kiss the top of her head. "I'll give you a hug when I put everything down, okay?" My sister loves to joke that my niece is the only person in the world that I'll willingly show affection toward. In the days before Alex, she wasn't wrong.
Casey holds the door open for us and Amanda appears to take things out of my hands. Casey looks at Alex curiously. "Why are you wearing your coat like that?" she asks, clearly puzzled.
Alex smiles as I grab the back of it so he can get his arm out relatively gracefully. "Because I broke my collarbone and my arm is in a sling. See?" He points to his arm once he's free of his coat.
Her eyes get wide. "Does it hurt?" she asks.
"A little bit," he tells her. "But it feels better now than it did a few days ago."
"What happened?" she questions, full of curiosity.
"I fell when I was skiing," he replies.
Casey nods solemnly. "My mom said that skiing is dangerous and people who ski are crazy."
Alex laughs, then winces. Of course, Amanda had walked back into the room just as Casey was saying that. "Casey!" she scolds.
"What?" Casey asks, confused in her 6 year old innocence. "That's what you said. You said it when we were having dinner on Tuesday. I remember!" Amanda's cheeks turn pink and I crack up.
Alex bends down a little and grins at Casey. "You know what? Right now, I'm inclined to agree with your mom." He winks at Casey and grins at Amanda.
"Does that mean you're not going to ski anymore?" Casey asks him.
Alex smirks. "Oh no, I will definitely ski again. Maybe even this winter still, as soon as I'm better."
Casey makes a face and looks at me. "Where do you find these people?" she asks, throwing her hands up dramatically. That's enough to send me over the edge, and I sit down hard on the couch, laughing. Alex is trying unsuccessfully to not laugh, and Amanda's face turns a shade of crimson that I don't think I've even seen on Liv's face.
"I don't," I tell her. "They find me." Finally Amanda laughs and Casey just looks between us, having no idea why we're laughing. I just love the things that come out of this girl's mouth.
"Well, if there was any question about her having your attitude and lack of filter, I think we just answered it," Amanda says, once we all get it together.
"Consider yourself lucky," I say. "I'm hilarious, and so is she."
The rest of the evening goes well. Evan, my sister's husband, gets home shortly after we arrive, and we eat way too much and open gifts. I went a little overboard buying gifts for Casey, and Amanda gives me more than one dirty look as Casey's pile of new clothes, toys, and books grows bigger and bigger. "I hope this is for Christmas and her birthday," Amanda hisses at me. Casey's birthday is Dec 30th.
I smile sheepishly. "No, I have more for her birthday," I admit. Amanda just sighs and shakes her head.
After gifts, we turn on A Christmas Story, and Casey snuggles up to me on the couch. I look at Alex and say, "We can leave whenever you're ready." He's clearly enjoying his night "out" but I can tell he's exhausted. This is by far the most activity and excitement he's had since before his accident.
"I'm fine," he answers, a little defensively. I cock an eyebrow and he sighs. "I'm tired, you're right. But I'm not ready yet."
"Okay," I reply. "Just let me know." He finds my left hand with his right and our fingers wind together automatically. Between his injuries and his parents, this is the most physical contact we've been able to have in nearly a week. I'm surprised to find that I wish I could tuck myself under his arm and lean against him. I'm also feeling seriously sex-deprived, but I'm trying to get used to it because I have a feeling it will last awhile.
We leave about 30 minutes later. In the car, Alex says, "Will you stay tonight?"
"Your mom will have a fit. And I don't have clothes or anything."
"We can stop at your house. And I don't care if she has a fit. I really want you to stay."
I have to admit that I miss spending the night with Alex. Sex completely aside, it's hard to go from spending at least a few nights a week together to sleeping alone all the time. Ugh, who am I? "Okay," I agree. "But you have to handle your mom."
"I will," he assures me. "Speaking of handling my mom, you've done a really amazing job of being nice to them, even though they've been pretty awful to you. Thank you."
"They haven't been awful. They've just not been nice."
"That's way more than bad enough," he replies, shaking his head. "They haven't been downright rude to you, but they've made it pretty clear they'd prefer for you to not be around. That pisses me off."
"I can tell," I say, smirking. "You haven't exactly been pleasant to them."
"They haven't earned my pleasantness," he retorts.
Alex's mom must be tired of fighting him, because she says nothing when he informs her I'm spending the night. She gives him a withering look, but that's it. She turns to me and politely asks if I would like to join them for Christmas brunch before they leave. "Thank you for inviting me," I tell her sincerely, "But I'll go home in the morning and let you guys enjoy Christmas brunch with your son." Alex gives me a weird look but his mom smiles, the first genuine smile she's worn since this whole mess started.
"Thank you," she replies.
Alex and I go straight upstairs to get ready for bed. He's exhausted and it's obvious. He groans as he lays down and I let him get settled before I climb in next to him and pull up the blankets. I'm laying on his right, which is the opposite of how we usually sleep. It's throwing me off, and I wiggle around, trying to get comfortable before I settle next to Alex. "Why did you say no to brunch?" Alex asks curiously.
"Consider it my Christmas gift to your parents," I reply.
"Speaking of Christmas gifts, I haven't had a chance to get you anything," Alex tells me. "I'm sorry."
"You've been a little busy," I point out. "And to be honest, I was going to get your gift on Sunday, and with everything that happened, I completely forgot. So I don't have anything for you either. Let's not even worry about it, okay?"
"Sounds good to me," he agrees. I get settled, carefully resting my head on his chest and pressing the rest of my body against his side. He wraps his right arm around me and sighs softly. "I've missed this."
"I have too," I admit, snuggling a little closer.
"What?" he asks in mock surprise. "You've missed physical contact and affection? I don't believe you."
"Shut up," I say, laughing. "I have. I've also missed your sense of humor, so I'm glad to see it's back." Getting him out of the house, even for a couple hours, was clearly necessary. "I love you, Alex."
"Awwwww," he says, still teasing. I roll my eyes and shake my head against his chest. "I love you too, Laur. Thank you for braving my parents to be here with me this week."
I nod and yawn. In my sleepy, relaxed state, I almost blurt out that I walked out of my job today. But I don't. Now's not the time; I don't want to ruin this moment. Tomorrow. I'll tell him tomorrow.
__________________________________
The words come out before I can really think them through, but I don't regret them.
"Excuse me?" Sean sputters, and he looks genuinely flustered. It makes me grin, which makes him look even more confused.
"I said 'I quit'," I reply, standing. "If you don't want me to do the job I was hired for, then I'm going to find someone who does."
Sean quickly rearranges his face back to a neutral expression and says, "Well, alright then. Good luck to you. You have 30 minutes to collect your things." I think he thinks he's calling my bluff, but it's not a bluff. "As a matter of fact, here's a box for you." He grabs an empty box from the corner of his office and hands it to me, challenging me to take it.
I do. I take it, smile, and say, "Thank you, Sean. I'll be gone in 15." I don't keep much personal stuff at work. I just have a few textbooks, some snacks, and some personal office supplies, basically. For a fleeting second he looks shocked, but I turn on my heel and walk out of his office before I can see how long it takes for him to once again regain control of his expression.
As I'm putting my stuff in a box, I become aware of the curious looks from around the office. Logan walks up as I'm finishing. "Can I help?" he asks, looking more concerned than curious.
"At your own risk," I reply with a shrug. He glances over his shoulder towards Sean's office, then picks up my half-full box. I grab my coat and purse and start walking towards the elevator.
Once we're safely inside the elevator, Logan turns to me. "Did you...are you.." He stops. There's really no polite way to ask someone if they just got fired, is there?
"No," I say, shaking my head. "I quit. He's trying to turn me into a fucking secretary, and I've worked too damn hard for that." I glare at the wall as I talk. I'm not yet regretting my move, but I am starting to get a little nervous. More than that, I'm absolutely livid that that disgusting, chauvinistic bastard finds no value in my position as I was hired.
"What are you going to do?" he asks. I can't even believe he's in this elevator, holding my box and having this conversation.
"I have no idea," I admit. "I updated my resume a couple weeks ago, but I haven't actually applied for anything. Now I'm wishing I had."
"Look," he says, shifting to face me. "I'm a member of this networking group for structural engineers that might have some ideas. I can send you the information."
"Thanks," I reply. The elevator door opens and we walk out into the parking ramp. I find my car and Logan puts my box in the backseat for me. "Thanks," I say again, looking at him.
"Good luck," he tells me, briefly touching my arm. I nod and get into the car, and Logan walks away.
I take a second to consider what to do next. I still don't have any regrets. I have about 8 months worth of rent and bills saved up, plus a sizable-for-my-age 401k that I could cash out if I needed to. I'm not worried about money. Not even a little bit. I've always lived below my means. I am worried about not working. I enjoy working. I like being productive. The idea of sitting at home all day applying for jobs and doing little else makes me break out into a cold sweat.
I drive home and get right to work. I re-read my resume for the thousandth time, make a couple small changes, and then open my internet browser. I spend the next three hours methodically reading job descriptions, writing cover letters, and submitting my application materials.
By the time I stop to eat lunch, I've only applied for 4 jobs, but it feels like it's taken so much longer than it should have. I remind myself that it's because I'm writing cover letters specific to the positions and tailoring my resume as well when it's called for. Then I wonder if anyone actually reads cover letters. Am I wasting time this way? Ultimately, I decide that I'd rather potentially waste time and look like a well put together candidate than risk getting my resume discarded over a vague, generic cover letter.
I take a break long enough to eat a sandwich and watch a DVRed episode of Real Housewives. It refreshes me enough to apply to 3 more jobs before I quit for the day. I now only have about two and a half hours to make the dessert I'm bringing to Amanda's house and get ready.
I manage with 15 minutes to spare and I head over to Alex's house so I can be polite and wish his parents a merry Christmas. Alex's dad opens the door when I knock, and Alex calls, "You know you can just walk in, right?"
"I know," I reply. I feel weird walking in with his parents there, though. "Merry Christmas," I say to his dad, forcing a smile.
"Merry Christmas, Lauren," he says, and it's almost warm. Almost. I bite back a frustrated sigh. I will never win with them, and it's driving me crazy.
"Oh, is that Lauren?" Alex's mom calls from the general direction of the kitchen. I roll my eyes, because of course it's me. Alex's house isn't that big, I'm quite sure she heard his dad say, "Merry Christmas, Lauren." Also, who else would be here 10 minutes before 5 on Christmas Eve?
Sharon walks into the living room, drying her hands on a towel. "Hello, dear," she says, smiling just as falsely as I am.
"Hi, Merry Christmas," I say. From the couch, Alex snorts and I shoot him a dirty look.
"Mmm, yes," she replies, as though it just occurred to her that it's Christmas Eve. "And the same to you." Alex looks away to hide his smirk and I just continue beaming at Sharon with my fake smile.
"Ready to go?" Alex asks me, carefully standing up. I see him wince slightly as he does it. Tightening his abs to stand puts pressure on his broken ribs. Actually, just about everything does. I hope I never break my ribs. It sounds awful.
"I am," I tell him. "Here." I grab his coat from the hook next to the door and hand it to him as he walks over. He already has his shoes on and it's clear that he's in a hurry to get out of here. He thanks me and struggles to get his coat onto his arm that's not in the sling. I know better than to help him, but I hate watching him struggle. Finally he gives up and glances at his dad, who holds the coat so he can get his good arm into the sleeve. His dad drapes the other side over his shoulder.
"This is fucking ridiculous," he mutters. "My arm isn't broken, I don't know why I can't just use it."
"Because all the--" his mom starts, in a lecturing tone.
Alex cuts her off. "Yes, I understand why I can't use it, I'm just frustrated." She snaps her mouth shut and presses her lips into a thin line. I wonder briefly if she was ever a pleasant person. Did she ever have a sense of humor?
"I'll see you guys later tonight, okay?" Alex says, looking from his dad to his mom. "Lauren's niece is pretty little, so I'm sure we won't be there too late. Right?" He looks to me for confirmation and I nod.
We leave the house and get in the car. Alex manages his seat belt one-handed, adjusting it to not lay against his broken ribs, and I slide into the driver's seat. He sighs in relief as he settles into the seat. "I can't even tell you how happy I am to be out of that house," he tells me. "Come here." I lean over and kiss him. When I start to pull away he grabs my hand and I kiss him again. "I've missed you," he tells me, when he lets me go.
"I've seen you every day," I tease him, grinning as I start the car.
He snorts. "It's not the same with them hovering around." I glance at him out of the corner of my eye, and I can see the perma-glare that's been etched onto his face for the last several days has relaxed. He's actually smiling. I'm relieved that getting him away from his parents has improved his mood. "How's work been this week? Was Sean pissed that you called in on Monday?"
I freeze, playing off my pause as checking my blind spot before I pull onto the road. I'm nervous suddenly, not wanting to ruin Alex's better mood by giving him my news. "No, he wasn't even there. It was fine," I say finally, as casually as possible. I keep my eyes on the road, hoping that he won't be able to tell that I'm basically lying to him.
He doesn't seem to notice and he starts talking about how weird his mom acted today. "It was like I was planning to leave the country. Heaven forbid I leave the house for a little while." He shook his head. "I'll be relieved when they leave tomorrow. Is that horrible? Being excited for your parents to leave on Christmas?"
"I don't think it's horrible, but I'm extremely biased," I reply. I reason away my guilt at lying about work by telling myself I'm making Alex's evening out of the house more enjoyable. I'll tell him tomorrow. Or, maybe not. Tomorrow is Christmas. I'll tell him...soon.
It doesn't take long to get to Amanda's house, and my 6 year old niece Casey flings the door open as soon as I pull into the driveway. "Hey dollface!" I call as we get out of the car. Casey starts to step onto the front stoop, then glances over her shoulder, makes a face, and stands impatiently inside the open doorway, waiting. I grab the cake I'd made and my bag full of gifts and start up the walk to where Casey is bouncing impatiently.
"Merry Christmas, Aunt Lauren and Alex!" she squeals when we get close enough.
"Merry Christmas to you too, sweet girl," I reply. My hands are full so I lean down and kiss the top of her head. "I'll give you a hug when I put everything down, okay?" My sister loves to joke that my niece is the only person in the world that I'll willingly show affection toward. In the days before Alex, she wasn't wrong.
Casey holds the door open for us and Amanda appears to take things out of my hands. Casey looks at Alex curiously. "Why are you wearing your coat like that?" she asks, clearly puzzled.
Alex smiles as I grab the back of it so he can get his arm out relatively gracefully. "Because I broke my collarbone and my arm is in a sling. See?" He points to his arm once he's free of his coat.
Her eyes get wide. "Does it hurt?" she asks.
"A little bit," he tells her. "But it feels better now than it did a few days ago."
"What happened?" she questions, full of curiosity.
"I fell when I was skiing," he replies.
Casey nods solemnly. "My mom said that skiing is dangerous and people who ski are crazy."
Alex laughs, then winces. Of course, Amanda had walked back into the room just as Casey was saying that. "Casey!" she scolds.
"What?" Casey asks, confused in her 6 year old innocence. "That's what you said. You said it when we were having dinner on Tuesday. I remember!" Amanda's cheeks turn pink and I crack up.
Alex bends down a little and grins at Casey. "You know what? Right now, I'm inclined to agree with your mom." He winks at Casey and grins at Amanda.
"Does that mean you're not going to ski anymore?" Casey asks him.
Alex smirks. "Oh no, I will definitely ski again. Maybe even this winter still, as soon as I'm better."
Casey makes a face and looks at me. "Where do you find these people?" she asks, throwing her hands up dramatically. That's enough to send me over the edge, and I sit down hard on the couch, laughing. Alex is trying unsuccessfully to not laugh, and Amanda's face turns a shade of crimson that I don't think I've even seen on Liv's face.
"I don't," I tell her. "They find me." Finally Amanda laughs and Casey just looks between us, having no idea why we're laughing. I just love the things that come out of this girl's mouth.
"Well, if there was any question about her having your attitude and lack of filter, I think we just answered it," Amanda says, once we all get it together.
"Consider yourself lucky," I say. "I'm hilarious, and so is she."
The rest of the evening goes well. Evan, my sister's husband, gets home shortly after we arrive, and we eat way too much and open gifts. I went a little overboard buying gifts for Casey, and Amanda gives me more than one dirty look as Casey's pile of new clothes, toys, and books grows bigger and bigger. "I hope this is for Christmas and her birthday," Amanda hisses at me. Casey's birthday is Dec 30th.
I smile sheepishly. "No, I have more for her birthday," I admit. Amanda just sighs and shakes her head.
After gifts, we turn on A Christmas Story, and Casey snuggles up to me on the couch. I look at Alex and say, "We can leave whenever you're ready." He's clearly enjoying his night "out" but I can tell he's exhausted. This is by far the most activity and excitement he's had since before his accident.
"I'm fine," he answers, a little defensively. I cock an eyebrow and he sighs. "I'm tired, you're right. But I'm not ready yet."
"Okay," I reply. "Just let me know." He finds my left hand with his right and our fingers wind together automatically. Between his injuries and his parents, this is the most physical contact we've been able to have in nearly a week. I'm surprised to find that I wish I could tuck myself under his arm and lean against him. I'm also feeling seriously sex-deprived, but I'm trying to get used to it because I have a feeling it will last awhile.
We leave about 30 minutes later. In the car, Alex says, "Will you stay tonight?"
"Your mom will have a fit. And I don't have clothes or anything."
"We can stop at your house. And I don't care if she has a fit. I really want you to stay."
I have to admit that I miss spending the night with Alex. Sex completely aside, it's hard to go from spending at least a few nights a week together to sleeping alone all the time. Ugh, who am I? "Okay," I agree. "But you have to handle your mom."
"I will," he assures me. "Speaking of handling my mom, you've done a really amazing job of being nice to them, even though they've been pretty awful to you. Thank you."
"They haven't been awful. They've just not been nice."
"That's way more than bad enough," he replies, shaking his head. "They haven't been downright rude to you, but they've made it pretty clear they'd prefer for you to not be around. That pisses me off."
"I can tell," I say, smirking. "You haven't exactly been pleasant to them."
"They haven't earned my pleasantness," he retorts.
Alex's mom must be tired of fighting him, because she says nothing when he informs her I'm spending the night. She gives him a withering look, but that's it. She turns to me and politely asks if I would like to join them for Christmas brunch before they leave. "Thank you for inviting me," I tell her sincerely, "But I'll go home in the morning and let you guys enjoy Christmas brunch with your son." Alex gives me a weird look but his mom smiles, the first genuine smile she's worn since this whole mess started.
"Thank you," she replies.
Alex and I go straight upstairs to get ready for bed. He's exhausted and it's obvious. He groans as he lays down and I let him get settled before I climb in next to him and pull up the blankets. I'm laying on his right, which is the opposite of how we usually sleep. It's throwing me off, and I wiggle around, trying to get comfortable before I settle next to Alex. "Why did you say no to brunch?" Alex asks curiously.
"Consider it my Christmas gift to your parents," I reply.
"Speaking of Christmas gifts, I haven't had a chance to get you anything," Alex tells me. "I'm sorry."
"You've been a little busy," I point out. "And to be honest, I was going to get your gift on Sunday, and with everything that happened, I completely forgot. So I don't have anything for you either. Let's not even worry about it, okay?"
"Sounds good to me," he agrees. I get settled, carefully resting my head on his chest and pressing the rest of my body against his side. He wraps his right arm around me and sighs softly. "I've missed this."
"I have too," I admit, snuggling a little closer.
"What?" he asks in mock surprise. "You've missed physical contact and affection? I don't believe you."
"Shut up," I say, laughing. "I have. I've also missed your sense of humor, so I'm glad to see it's back." Getting him out of the house, even for a couple hours, was clearly necessary. "I love you, Alex."
"Awwwww," he says, still teasing. I roll my eyes and shake my head against his chest. "I love you too, Laur. Thank you for braving my parents to be here with me this week."
I nod and yawn. In my sleepy, relaxed state, I almost blurt out that I walked out of my job today. But I don't. Now's not the time; I don't want to ruin this moment. Tomorrow. I'll tell him tomorrow.
Saturday, January 2, 2016
Lauren: Weird Dynamic
Hey guys! I'm sorry again for this one being a little later than usual. The week got away from me. Enjoy :)
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They keep Alex in the hospital for one more night. I decide to stay and call in sick to work on Monday. Liv and everyone else leaves on Sunday after they stop to visit. She tries to leave me her SUV to drive back, but Alex's parents insist upon driving me back (after, of course, they try in vain to talk me into leaving with Liv).
By the time Alex's parents drop me off at home, I am several things. I'm exhausted. Unlike Alex's parents, who got a hotel room nearby, I spent two nights sleeping at the hospital. Have you ever slept at a hospital? It's the absolute worst. I'm also annoyed. His mom is acting like he almost died, and also trying her best to pretend I'm not there as much as possible. She's also the worst. And then I'm nervous. Things at work have been rocky enough--and I'm worried that taking a sick day is going to make it worse. It shouldn't, because sick days are a benefit I'm entitled to and I hardly ever use them, but all sorts of things have happened there that I didn't expect. So.
We're all surly by the time Alex's parents drop me off. Me for the reasons above, Alex because he's been stuck in a hospital bed for 2 days and is also tired of his mom's hovering, and Alex's parents because Alex is being a dick and I exist. "Are you going to come over?" Alex asks me as we pull up to my place.
"I'm going to take a nap and do some laundry and then I will," I assure him. "Want me to pick up something for us all to have for dinner?" Since it's so close to Christmas, Alex's parents have just decided that they're going to stay through the holiday. Alex's dad had tried to talk his mom into at least getting a hotel room, but she was insistent on staying with Alex, which probably makes sense (as much as I hate to admit it). He's probably going to need some help while he adjusts to only being able to use one arm for now.
"Alex, sweetheart," his mom starts. "We were hoping that we could spend the evening together as a family." How delightfully passive-aggressive of her to not even directly tell me she doesn't want me there.
"As far as I'm concerned, Lauren's included in that," he snaps. "And anyway, haven't we spent enough quality time together as 'a family'? You don't get to decide who comes to my house and who doesn't." I squirm in my seat, tugging on the seatbelt. I hate this. I've spent large chunks of the last few days feeling very caught in the middle of this weird dynamic. I feel both annoyed by it and responsible for it.
"Son, I know you're in pain and tired of being cooped up, but please don't speak to your mother like that." Alex's dad glances at him reprovingly, and I squirm again.
I watch Alex's face from the side mirror and see him open his mouth, then think better of it and snap it shut. "I'm sorry," he apologizes reluctantly. "And I know you guys are staying to help me, but if you're going to stay in my home, please respect both me and Lauren."
His mom says nothing, though his dad nods curtly. I'm getting more and more irritated, and I practically throw myself out of the backseat of the car when Alex's dad finally stops in front of my house. "Thanks for the ride," I say. Alex opens his window and I lean in. "I'll see you in a few hours okay? Let me know what you want me to pick up for dinner."
"I will," he replies.
"I can cook tonight," his mom says. "We'll get Alex settled at home and I can pick up a few things." Rather stiffly, she adds, "You're welcome to join us, Lauren."
"Okay, thanks," I say to her, glancing through the backseat window at her. I turn back to Alex. "Let me know if there's anything else you want me to grab, okay?"
"I will," he repeats. "I love you, Laur."
"I love you too." I want to say it quickly, or not at all, because both of his parents are watching me. But that would go against my resolution to do a better job with this kind of stuff, so I say it as normally as I possibly can. Then I hurry towards my house. Alex's parents don't bother to wait until I'm inside. Instead, they pull away almost as soon as I turn away from the car. I'm in such a hurry, it takes me a couple tries to get the key inserted into the lock, but I finally manage it.
I drop my bag on the floor and resist the urge to collapse on the couch. Instead, I head upstairs, grab my laundry basket, and bring it to the laundry room. I put a load in, then clean up the kitchen while it washes. Once I put it in the dryer, I go back upstairs and run a bath. I'm sore from sleeping in weird positions and sitting in the hard plastic hospital chairs.
When the tub is full, I strip off my clothes and sink into the hot water. It's a small, standard tub and I wish it was bigger, but it's better than nothing. I lay in the tub until the water cools enough that it's not relaxing anymore. I'm enjoying the silence and lack of other people. Honestly, going to Alex's house later is just about the last thing I want to do. I don't know how much more togetherness with his parents I can take. I'm almost looking forward to work tomorrow. Almost.
I get out of the tub, dry off, and get straight in bed. I set an alarm for two hours and fall asleep quickly. I'm still dead asleep when my alarm goes off, and it takes me awhile to realize where the awful noise is coming from. I finally manage to roll over and turn the alarm off.
It takes me another 20 minutes to actually get myself out of bed. I slept too long to feel refreshed, and now I just feel groggy. I wake up a little after washing my face and brushing my teeth, though. I start to pull my hair into a ponytail, then I think about Alex's mom's judgy stare and instead plug my flat iron in with a sigh. I resist the call of my sweatpants and hoodie and dress in jeans and a sweater.
I grab my phone and send a quick text to Alex. "Leaving shortly, do you need anything?"
Within seconds he texts back, "Just your pretty face." I roll my eyes but smile, hoping he's in a slightly better mood. I pull on my boots and take a deep breath, steadying myself for what is sure to be a lovely evening with Alex and his parents.
The days leading up to Christmas are long. I spend more than my 8 hours working on Tuesday and Wednesday, trying to get caught up before the holiday. After work each day, I head straight to Alex's house for awhile. His mom remains perfectly over-involved and insufferable, and Alex pleads with me to stay as long as possible because she backs off a bit while I'm there. Each night, I go home in enough time to get ready for bed and crawl under the covers at a semi-reasonable time.
I do a fairly good job remaining polite (but not friendly--don't push it) to his parents until I am about to leave Wednesday night. "I still want to go to Amanda's," Alex informs me as I'm pulling my boots on. We had planned to spend the evening of Christmas eve with my sister, her husband, and my niece.
"Okay," I reply, surprised. "I told her we weren't coming, but I can tell her we are after all."
"Weren't going where?" Alex's mom asks, coming into the room and looking between us suspiciously.
I freeze, knowing this isn't going to go well. Luckily, Alex jumps in. "To Lauren's sister's house for Christmas Eve."
"Absolutely not," his mom commands, shaking her head. "You're not leaving this house. And anyway, your father and I are here, you can't go running off and leaving us here!"
"We have plans, Mother," Alex says through gritted teeth. I hate how annoyed and on edge he's been, but I understand it. "I need to get out of this house. I'm not an invalid."
"You're seriously injured, Alexander," she replies. "You could--"
"No, I'm not," he snaps back. "I have some broken ribs and a broken collarbone. Last I checked, there was nothing life threatening about either of those things. You're acting like I'm dying, and it's ridiculous. I'm tired of it. I'm glad you're here to help me with the things I need help with, but I need you to let me do the things I'm capable of doing--including having Christmas Eve dinner with Lauren's family, like we planned."
She glares at him, shooting daggers out of her eyes. "And what, exactly, do you suggest your father and I do while you're off gallivanting around with your girlfriend?" She spits the word out like it burns her tongue.
Eager to dispel some of the conflict, I say, "You could join us, if you'd like." It takes every last bit of resolve to be nice that I have, but I manage it.
Alex and his mom both look at me like, "are you out of your goddamned mind?" But I'm not. I know she'll never agree, and I'm banking on that. The invitation is polite and friendly, but she'll never come. It works, because when she sees I'm looking at her expectantly, her face softens. "Thank you," she says, a little stiffly. "But I guess if Alex insists on going, we'll find something to do here. I could give this house a proper cleaning without worrying about disturbing his rest." She looks around in distaste, and I almost laugh. Alex is incredibly neat and does a good job keeping his home clean and tidy. There's no "proper cleaning" necessary, but whatever she needs to do to be okay with this is fine with me. She looks between us one more time, then says, "Goodnight, Lauren," and turns on her heel, striding out of the room.
"I'll pick you up around 5, then?" I ask Alex.
"Sounds perfect," he replies. I kiss him carefully before I go, and hurry out. I can't wait until his parents leave. I wonder if they've talked at all about what happened at Thanksgiving. I haven't had a chance to ask. It's hard to tell, with the tension. It's palpable as soon as I walk into the house, every time. It's clear Alex is still pissed at his parents. It's hard for me to watch. I still feel responsible, and it's weird seeing him so annoyed and short with them. I miss his laid back personality, and I hope it will come back once they're gone.
I work a half day on Christmas Eve. Sean has been off this week, which means it's been peaceful. I'm surprised to see him when I walk in on Thursday. He steps to the door of his office as I walk past. He allows me to take off my coat and put my stuff down before he calls, "Can I see you for a sec, Lauren?"
I take a deep breath and turn around. "Sure," I reply. I walk into his office and he shuts the door behind me.
"I want to talk to you about a few changes I'd like to make for the new year," he says after I sit down. "I'd like to switch around a few of your job duties." I listen in shock as he details the changes he'd like to make. When he's finished, he cocks his head to the side. "You look upset."
"Sean, you're changing my job entirely," I point out, trying hard (but failing) to hold back my indignation. "Making phone calls? Doing your data entry? I was hired as an engineer, not an assistant."
His eyebrows flick up almost imperceptibly. "And an engineer you'll remain," he replies. "But the fact is that I need someone I can trust to do some of these things, and you're that person."
"Oh no," I tell him, shaking my head. "Don't try to flatter me into liking this."
He smirks. "I don't need you to like it, I just need you to do it."
"Well, I need you to hire an assistant," I snap back, too angry to control my mouth anymore. "I'd like to speak to HR before any of these changes go into effect."
"You're welcome to," he says, choosing to ignore my first comment. "I already cleared it with HR, though. They wrote up a new job description for you." He fishes a paper out of a folder clearly marked with my name and slides it across the desk to me.
By this point I'm shaking in fury. I snatch the paper away and see that HR surely did change my job description. I read through it, seeing only three things on it that match what I'm currently doing. "You can have this back," I say in disgust, shoving it back towards him. "I'm not doing any of those things."
"Lauren, I have to warn you that you're dangerously close to being written up right now," he replies calmly. I hate him.
"You can't write me up," I retort.
Another tiny flick of eyebrow. "And why is that?"
"Because I quit."
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They keep Alex in the hospital for one more night. I decide to stay and call in sick to work on Monday. Liv and everyone else leaves on Sunday after they stop to visit. She tries to leave me her SUV to drive back, but Alex's parents insist upon driving me back (after, of course, they try in vain to talk me into leaving with Liv).
By the time Alex's parents drop me off at home, I am several things. I'm exhausted. Unlike Alex's parents, who got a hotel room nearby, I spent two nights sleeping at the hospital. Have you ever slept at a hospital? It's the absolute worst. I'm also annoyed. His mom is acting like he almost died, and also trying her best to pretend I'm not there as much as possible. She's also the worst. And then I'm nervous. Things at work have been rocky enough--and I'm worried that taking a sick day is going to make it worse. It shouldn't, because sick days are a benefit I'm entitled to and I hardly ever use them, but all sorts of things have happened there that I didn't expect. So.
We're all surly by the time Alex's parents drop me off. Me for the reasons above, Alex because he's been stuck in a hospital bed for 2 days and is also tired of his mom's hovering, and Alex's parents because Alex is being a dick and I exist. "Are you going to come over?" Alex asks me as we pull up to my place.
"I'm going to take a nap and do some laundry and then I will," I assure him. "Want me to pick up something for us all to have for dinner?" Since it's so close to Christmas, Alex's parents have just decided that they're going to stay through the holiday. Alex's dad had tried to talk his mom into at least getting a hotel room, but she was insistent on staying with Alex, which probably makes sense (as much as I hate to admit it). He's probably going to need some help while he adjusts to only being able to use one arm for now.
"Alex, sweetheart," his mom starts. "We were hoping that we could spend the evening together as a family." How delightfully passive-aggressive of her to not even directly tell me she doesn't want me there.
"As far as I'm concerned, Lauren's included in that," he snaps. "And anyway, haven't we spent enough quality time together as 'a family'? You don't get to decide who comes to my house and who doesn't." I squirm in my seat, tugging on the seatbelt. I hate this. I've spent large chunks of the last few days feeling very caught in the middle of this weird dynamic. I feel both annoyed by it and responsible for it.
"Son, I know you're in pain and tired of being cooped up, but please don't speak to your mother like that." Alex's dad glances at him reprovingly, and I squirm again.
I watch Alex's face from the side mirror and see him open his mouth, then think better of it and snap it shut. "I'm sorry," he apologizes reluctantly. "And I know you guys are staying to help me, but if you're going to stay in my home, please respect both me and Lauren."
His mom says nothing, though his dad nods curtly. I'm getting more and more irritated, and I practically throw myself out of the backseat of the car when Alex's dad finally stops in front of my house. "Thanks for the ride," I say. Alex opens his window and I lean in. "I'll see you in a few hours okay? Let me know what you want me to pick up for dinner."
"I will," he replies.
"I can cook tonight," his mom says. "We'll get Alex settled at home and I can pick up a few things." Rather stiffly, she adds, "You're welcome to join us, Lauren."
"Okay, thanks," I say to her, glancing through the backseat window at her. I turn back to Alex. "Let me know if there's anything else you want me to grab, okay?"
"I will," he repeats. "I love you, Laur."
"I love you too." I want to say it quickly, or not at all, because both of his parents are watching me. But that would go against my resolution to do a better job with this kind of stuff, so I say it as normally as I possibly can. Then I hurry towards my house. Alex's parents don't bother to wait until I'm inside. Instead, they pull away almost as soon as I turn away from the car. I'm in such a hurry, it takes me a couple tries to get the key inserted into the lock, but I finally manage it.
I drop my bag on the floor and resist the urge to collapse on the couch. Instead, I head upstairs, grab my laundry basket, and bring it to the laundry room. I put a load in, then clean up the kitchen while it washes. Once I put it in the dryer, I go back upstairs and run a bath. I'm sore from sleeping in weird positions and sitting in the hard plastic hospital chairs.
When the tub is full, I strip off my clothes and sink into the hot water. It's a small, standard tub and I wish it was bigger, but it's better than nothing. I lay in the tub until the water cools enough that it's not relaxing anymore. I'm enjoying the silence and lack of other people. Honestly, going to Alex's house later is just about the last thing I want to do. I don't know how much more togetherness with his parents I can take. I'm almost looking forward to work tomorrow. Almost.
I get out of the tub, dry off, and get straight in bed. I set an alarm for two hours and fall asleep quickly. I'm still dead asleep when my alarm goes off, and it takes me awhile to realize where the awful noise is coming from. I finally manage to roll over and turn the alarm off.
It takes me another 20 minutes to actually get myself out of bed. I slept too long to feel refreshed, and now I just feel groggy. I wake up a little after washing my face and brushing my teeth, though. I start to pull my hair into a ponytail, then I think about Alex's mom's judgy stare and instead plug my flat iron in with a sigh. I resist the call of my sweatpants and hoodie and dress in jeans and a sweater.
I grab my phone and send a quick text to Alex. "Leaving shortly, do you need anything?"
Within seconds he texts back, "Just your pretty face." I roll my eyes but smile, hoping he's in a slightly better mood. I pull on my boots and take a deep breath, steadying myself for what is sure to be a lovely evening with Alex and his parents.
The days leading up to Christmas are long. I spend more than my 8 hours working on Tuesday and Wednesday, trying to get caught up before the holiday. After work each day, I head straight to Alex's house for awhile. His mom remains perfectly over-involved and insufferable, and Alex pleads with me to stay as long as possible because she backs off a bit while I'm there. Each night, I go home in enough time to get ready for bed and crawl under the covers at a semi-reasonable time.
I do a fairly good job remaining polite (but not friendly--don't push it) to his parents until I am about to leave Wednesday night. "I still want to go to Amanda's," Alex informs me as I'm pulling my boots on. We had planned to spend the evening of Christmas eve with my sister, her husband, and my niece.
"Okay," I reply, surprised. "I told her we weren't coming, but I can tell her we are after all."
"Weren't going where?" Alex's mom asks, coming into the room and looking between us suspiciously.
I freeze, knowing this isn't going to go well. Luckily, Alex jumps in. "To Lauren's sister's house for Christmas Eve."
"Absolutely not," his mom commands, shaking her head. "You're not leaving this house. And anyway, your father and I are here, you can't go running off and leaving us here!"
"We have plans, Mother," Alex says through gritted teeth. I hate how annoyed and on edge he's been, but I understand it. "I need to get out of this house. I'm not an invalid."
"You're seriously injured, Alexander," she replies. "You could--"
"No, I'm not," he snaps back. "I have some broken ribs and a broken collarbone. Last I checked, there was nothing life threatening about either of those things. You're acting like I'm dying, and it's ridiculous. I'm tired of it. I'm glad you're here to help me with the things I need help with, but I need you to let me do the things I'm capable of doing--including having Christmas Eve dinner with Lauren's family, like we planned."
She glares at him, shooting daggers out of her eyes. "And what, exactly, do you suggest your father and I do while you're off gallivanting around with your girlfriend?" She spits the word out like it burns her tongue.
Eager to dispel some of the conflict, I say, "You could join us, if you'd like." It takes every last bit of resolve to be nice that I have, but I manage it.
Alex and his mom both look at me like, "are you out of your goddamned mind?" But I'm not. I know she'll never agree, and I'm banking on that. The invitation is polite and friendly, but she'll never come. It works, because when she sees I'm looking at her expectantly, her face softens. "Thank you," she says, a little stiffly. "But I guess if Alex insists on going, we'll find something to do here. I could give this house a proper cleaning without worrying about disturbing his rest." She looks around in distaste, and I almost laugh. Alex is incredibly neat and does a good job keeping his home clean and tidy. There's no "proper cleaning" necessary, but whatever she needs to do to be okay with this is fine with me. She looks between us one more time, then says, "Goodnight, Lauren," and turns on her heel, striding out of the room.
"I'll pick you up around 5, then?" I ask Alex.
"Sounds perfect," he replies. I kiss him carefully before I go, and hurry out. I can't wait until his parents leave. I wonder if they've talked at all about what happened at Thanksgiving. I haven't had a chance to ask. It's hard to tell, with the tension. It's palpable as soon as I walk into the house, every time. It's clear Alex is still pissed at his parents. It's hard for me to watch. I still feel responsible, and it's weird seeing him so annoyed and short with them. I miss his laid back personality, and I hope it will come back once they're gone.
I work a half day on Christmas Eve. Sean has been off this week, which means it's been peaceful. I'm surprised to see him when I walk in on Thursday. He steps to the door of his office as I walk past. He allows me to take off my coat and put my stuff down before he calls, "Can I see you for a sec, Lauren?"
I take a deep breath and turn around. "Sure," I reply. I walk into his office and he shuts the door behind me.
"I want to talk to you about a few changes I'd like to make for the new year," he says after I sit down. "I'd like to switch around a few of your job duties." I listen in shock as he details the changes he'd like to make. When he's finished, he cocks his head to the side. "You look upset."
"Sean, you're changing my job entirely," I point out, trying hard (but failing) to hold back my indignation. "Making phone calls? Doing your data entry? I was hired as an engineer, not an assistant."
His eyebrows flick up almost imperceptibly. "And an engineer you'll remain," he replies. "But the fact is that I need someone I can trust to do some of these things, and you're that person."
"Oh no," I tell him, shaking my head. "Don't try to flatter me into liking this."
He smirks. "I don't need you to like it, I just need you to do it."
"Well, I need you to hire an assistant," I snap back, too angry to control my mouth anymore. "I'd like to speak to HR before any of these changes go into effect."
"You're welcome to," he says, choosing to ignore my first comment. "I already cleared it with HR, though. They wrote up a new job description for you." He fishes a paper out of a folder clearly marked with my name and slides it across the desk to me.
By this point I'm shaking in fury. I snatch the paper away and see that HR surely did change my job description. I read through it, seeing only three things on it that match what I'm currently doing. "You can have this back," I say in disgust, shoving it back towards him. "I'm not doing any of those things."
"Lauren, I have to warn you that you're dangerously close to being written up right now," he replies calmly. I hate him.
"You can't write me up," I retort.
Another tiny flick of eyebrow. "And why is that?"
"Because I quit."
Friday, January 1, 2016
Sunday, December 27, 2015
Kinsley: Long Short Week
I had dinner with my brother on the Tuesday before Christmas. He made it into the city to meet me this time, and I went straight from work. He was fitting me in before his nap before his shift, so we decided on an earlier dinner. I was (of course) late, and Kaleb was already there.
"Sorry," I apologized, sliding into the other side of the booth. "Being late is kind of my thing."
He chuckled. "Good to know. It's fine, I'm glad you made it." We were both quiet for several seconds too long, then started talking at the same time. "Sorry, go ahead," Kaleb said.
"I was just asking what your plans for Christmas are," I answered.
"I'm going to Mom's house," he said. "I don't know what to expect."
"Oh," I replied.
He burst into laughter at my non-response. "Oh?"
I shrugged. "Not to needlessly color your expectations, but the last time I saw Mom she threw something at me and called me a 'stupid little tramp', so...."
"Nice," he responded, smirking. "I'm looking forward to seeing what she can come up with for me then." I snorted and rolled my eyes. "What are you doing? Christmas with the boyfriend's family?"
"His name is Damien. And no, actually. He and I are going up to his sister and brother-in-law's place in Crested Butte for the weekend. Just the two of us."
"That sounds nice," he said. "Though I'm shocked you're not going to Dad's house." It was my turn to crack up at that. Not in a million years.
Our dinner was great. The more time we spent together, the easier it got. I was still wary, and I think he could tell, but overall things were going well. So well that he hugged me without asking this time before we parted.
I was so excited to spend Christmas with Damien. I didn't even care if we skied. I was just happy to be spending a holiday with someone I actually wanted to spend it with, not someone that I felt obligated to spend it with (like my family). I couldn't remember the last time I actually enjoyed a holiday. Pleasant holidays were a foreign concept to me. We'd decided to each take a half day off on Wednesday the 23rd and leave that afternoon.
I got up super early on Wednesday to make sure I had enough time at work to get everything done that I needed to before taking off for the rest of the week. I left work around 12:30 and hurried home. I'd packed the night before, so I just took a quick shower, double checked my stuff, and then let Damien know I was ready. Damien got to my house around 1, and we left right away.
I'm weird and I totally love long car rides, so I was prepared with snacks and a playlist. Damien was amused by my antics, but quickly appreciated my planning when he decided he wanted a snack. "I don't know," I teased him from the passenger seat. "You thought my snacks were silly an hour ago."
"I never said they were silly," he replied indignantly. "I think I said 'unnecessary.'"
"Well, I think it's 'unnecessary' that I share them with you, then," I said, smirking.
He snorted. "You're going to let me starve to death while I'm in control of the vehicle you're riding in? That seems like a poor life choice on your part."
I laughed. "I don't know, this giant truck would probably hold up pretty well, even without a live driver, don't you think? I'm not too worried." Damien laughed and shook his head as I grabbed my bag of snacks off the floor and handed over the candy bar he'd requested.
By hour 3 in the car I realized that my plan was not foolproof, and I'd forgotten caffeine. Much to Damien's disappointment, I dozed off for awhile. He was enjoying my singing prior to that, I swear. I woke up when Damien parked the truck and turned it off. I yawned and stretched. It was already dark even though it wasn't even dinner time. "We're here, Sleeping Beauty," Damien said.
"Mmm, aren't you supposed to kiss me to wake me up?" I asked, yawning again.
"I'm no prince, you're out of luck," he replied, opening his door and hopping out of the truck. I laughed to myself and unbuckled my seatbelt. He surprised me by pulling my door open. "But I guess I can try," he said, wrapping his hands around my waist and pulling me down out of the truck. He kissed me hard with one arm around my waist and one hand tangled gently in my hair. "Well?" he asked after he pulled away.
"Definitely awake," I said, nodding. "And anyways, it doesn't have to be a prince, just a true love's kiss. Though it's supposed to be a true love's first kiss."
"You are...so very special," he replied, laughing. "I have no response to that."
"Not a Disney movie buff, huh?" I teased him. He shook his head, and I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him again. I was pretty sure that nothing could keep me from being in an amazing mood right now. He kissed me back and then we stood outside his truck with our foreheads pressed together for several seconds before I finally pulled away and peeked behind him at the house.
"Wow," I said, surprised. "When you said Elize and Jason had a place here, I didn't imagine it looked like this." The house was actually a gorgeous log cabin. It was moderately sized and clearly well cared-for. "It's beautiful."
"Wait until you see the inside," Damien said. He pulled open the back door of the truck and grabbed our bags. "Jason designed it himself." Jason was a real estate developer, so I don't know why I was surprised by the house.
We headed inside and I admired the fireplace with the gorgeous stone surround, the high, vaulted ceilings, and the giant windows. The furniture and decor was simple, accentuating the beautiful design of the home. I followed Damien up the stairs and into a large master suite. The suite has its own fireplace, but I was a little confused by its position in the wall. It made perfect sense once Damien showed me into the bathroom and I saw that the fireplace also serves the bathroom. It's right next to a deep corner tub that I could easily spend hours in.
"Okay, I'm going to need a house exactly like this," I told Damien, poking my head around the glass wall of the shower and seeing the multiple shower heads. "I don't even need the whole house. I just need this master suite."
"It's pretty amazing, isn't it?" Damien agreed. We walked back into the bedroom and Damien wrapped his arms around my waist. "I love you," he said, smiling at me. "I'm excited to spend Christmas with you."
"Gross, stop it," I said, trying not to laugh. He shook his head and tightened his arms around my waist. "I'm just kidding," I amend. "I love you too, and this is already perfect. Was your mom upset?"
"She was a little disappointed," he admitted. "But she understood." He leaned down to kiss me, but I yawned. Damien laughed and said, "How about this? I'll go out and pick up a few things from the grocery store for the weekend and you can lay down for a little while."
"I'll feel bad if you go by yourself," I protested.
"You can come if you want, but I don't mind going alone. I'd rather you get some rest so you don't fall asleep on me as soon as we get back." I had to admit it sounded great, because I really hated going grocery shopping. I agreed to the plan and got settled in the comfortable king sized bed while Damien went downstairs. I fell asleep almost immediately.
When I woke up and made my way back down to the living room of the house, I was surprised to see Damien sitting in front of the fireplace, untangling a string of Christmas lights. I was even more surprised to see a tree in a stand in the corner of the room. He grinned at me. "Passed a tree stand while I was getting groceries," he explained. "I thought the place could use a little festivity."
"You're amazing," I said excitedly.
"I dug out some of their decorations. Here, can you untangle this? I picked up some dinner, and I'll go get it ready."
He stood up and handed me the string of lights, and I made him stop so I could kiss him. "I love you the most," I said with a grin.
Damien was gone for a couple minutes, then came in with plates. I abandoned the string of lights I was working on and sat at the small table in the corner by the tall windows to eat. Damien set the plates down and returned to the kitchen. When he came back out he had two steaming mugs in his hand. He set one in front of me and said, "Hot apple cider with bourbon."
"Has anyone told you that you're absolutely perfect?" I asked him.
"I wouldn't go that far," he replied, chuckling and shaking his head. "But I'll just be happy that you're happy."
We ate and then returned to the tree. I turned on my Pandora Christmas music station and we drank our spiked cider and decorated the tree together. I was showing off my sweet dance moves while we cleaned up the excess decorations when Damien wrapped an arm around my waist from behind and pulled me against him. "You don't like my Christmas dancing?" I asked, laughing.
"Hmm, it's fine," he replied, his breath tickling my neck, "But I had something else in mind now." He pushed my hair off my neck and started kissing along my shoulder and the back of my neck. "Unless," he said, stopping abruptly, "You'd like to carry on dancing by yourself."
"No," I said quickly. "No, I like your idea."
We ended up having sex pressed against one of the tall windows, which luckily wasn't visible by any other houses. We left the rest of the Christmas decorations and our mess from dinner and went straight up to the bedroom. It was a little chilly, but Damien turned on the fireplace and we climbed into bed. "How are you still tired?" Damien asked, as I yawned and curled up against him.
"It was a long short week," I replied, shrugging. It had been, since I'd had to try to cram a week's worth of work into two and a half days.
Turns out Damien shouldn't have talked, because he was asleep before I was. I carefully extricated myself from his grasp and rolled onto my other side and got settled. It didn't take me long, and I was soon asleep too.
"Sorry," I apologized, sliding into the other side of the booth. "Being late is kind of my thing."
He chuckled. "Good to know. It's fine, I'm glad you made it." We were both quiet for several seconds too long, then started talking at the same time. "Sorry, go ahead," Kaleb said.
"I was just asking what your plans for Christmas are," I answered.
"I'm going to Mom's house," he said. "I don't know what to expect."
"Oh," I replied.
He burst into laughter at my non-response. "Oh?"
I shrugged. "Not to needlessly color your expectations, but the last time I saw Mom she threw something at me and called me a 'stupid little tramp', so...."
"Nice," he responded, smirking. "I'm looking forward to seeing what she can come up with for me then." I snorted and rolled my eyes. "What are you doing? Christmas with the boyfriend's family?"
"His name is Damien. And no, actually. He and I are going up to his sister and brother-in-law's place in Crested Butte for the weekend. Just the two of us."
"That sounds nice," he said. "Though I'm shocked you're not going to Dad's house." It was my turn to crack up at that. Not in a million years.
Our dinner was great. The more time we spent together, the easier it got. I was still wary, and I think he could tell, but overall things were going well. So well that he hugged me without asking this time before we parted.
I was so excited to spend Christmas with Damien. I didn't even care if we skied. I was just happy to be spending a holiday with someone I actually wanted to spend it with, not someone that I felt obligated to spend it with (like my family). I couldn't remember the last time I actually enjoyed a holiday. Pleasant holidays were a foreign concept to me. We'd decided to each take a half day off on Wednesday the 23rd and leave that afternoon.
I got up super early on Wednesday to make sure I had enough time at work to get everything done that I needed to before taking off for the rest of the week. I left work around 12:30 and hurried home. I'd packed the night before, so I just took a quick shower, double checked my stuff, and then let Damien know I was ready. Damien got to my house around 1, and we left right away.
I'm weird and I totally love long car rides, so I was prepared with snacks and a playlist. Damien was amused by my antics, but quickly appreciated my planning when he decided he wanted a snack. "I don't know," I teased him from the passenger seat. "You thought my snacks were silly an hour ago."
"I never said they were silly," he replied indignantly. "I think I said 'unnecessary.'"
"Well, I think it's 'unnecessary' that I share them with you, then," I said, smirking.
He snorted. "You're going to let me starve to death while I'm in control of the vehicle you're riding in? That seems like a poor life choice on your part."
I laughed. "I don't know, this giant truck would probably hold up pretty well, even without a live driver, don't you think? I'm not too worried." Damien laughed and shook his head as I grabbed my bag of snacks off the floor and handed over the candy bar he'd requested.
By hour 3 in the car I realized that my plan was not foolproof, and I'd forgotten caffeine. Much to Damien's disappointment, I dozed off for awhile. He was enjoying my singing prior to that, I swear. I woke up when Damien parked the truck and turned it off. I yawned and stretched. It was already dark even though it wasn't even dinner time. "We're here, Sleeping Beauty," Damien said.
"Mmm, aren't you supposed to kiss me to wake me up?" I asked, yawning again.
"I'm no prince, you're out of luck," he replied, opening his door and hopping out of the truck. I laughed to myself and unbuckled my seatbelt. He surprised me by pulling my door open. "But I guess I can try," he said, wrapping his hands around my waist and pulling me down out of the truck. He kissed me hard with one arm around my waist and one hand tangled gently in my hair. "Well?" he asked after he pulled away.
"Definitely awake," I said, nodding. "And anyways, it doesn't have to be a prince, just a true love's kiss. Though it's supposed to be a true love's first kiss."
"You are...so very special," he replied, laughing. "I have no response to that."
"Not a Disney movie buff, huh?" I teased him. He shook his head, and I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him again. I was pretty sure that nothing could keep me from being in an amazing mood right now. He kissed me back and then we stood outside his truck with our foreheads pressed together for several seconds before I finally pulled away and peeked behind him at the house.
"Wow," I said, surprised. "When you said Elize and Jason had a place here, I didn't imagine it looked like this." The house was actually a gorgeous log cabin. It was moderately sized and clearly well cared-for. "It's beautiful."
"Wait until you see the inside," Damien said. He pulled open the back door of the truck and grabbed our bags. "Jason designed it himself." Jason was a real estate developer, so I don't know why I was surprised by the house.
We headed inside and I admired the fireplace with the gorgeous stone surround, the high, vaulted ceilings, and the giant windows. The furniture and decor was simple, accentuating the beautiful design of the home. I followed Damien up the stairs and into a large master suite. The suite has its own fireplace, but I was a little confused by its position in the wall. It made perfect sense once Damien showed me into the bathroom and I saw that the fireplace also serves the bathroom. It's right next to a deep corner tub that I could easily spend hours in.
"Okay, I'm going to need a house exactly like this," I told Damien, poking my head around the glass wall of the shower and seeing the multiple shower heads. "I don't even need the whole house. I just need this master suite."
"It's pretty amazing, isn't it?" Damien agreed. We walked back into the bedroom and Damien wrapped his arms around my waist. "I love you," he said, smiling at me. "I'm excited to spend Christmas with you."
"Gross, stop it," I said, trying not to laugh. He shook his head and tightened his arms around my waist. "I'm just kidding," I amend. "I love you too, and this is already perfect. Was your mom upset?"
"She was a little disappointed," he admitted. "But she understood." He leaned down to kiss me, but I yawned. Damien laughed and said, "How about this? I'll go out and pick up a few things from the grocery store for the weekend and you can lay down for a little while."
"I'll feel bad if you go by yourself," I protested.
"You can come if you want, but I don't mind going alone. I'd rather you get some rest so you don't fall asleep on me as soon as we get back." I had to admit it sounded great, because I really hated going grocery shopping. I agreed to the plan and got settled in the comfortable king sized bed while Damien went downstairs. I fell asleep almost immediately.
When I woke up and made my way back down to the living room of the house, I was surprised to see Damien sitting in front of the fireplace, untangling a string of Christmas lights. I was even more surprised to see a tree in a stand in the corner of the room. He grinned at me. "Passed a tree stand while I was getting groceries," he explained. "I thought the place could use a little festivity."
"You're amazing," I said excitedly.
"I dug out some of their decorations. Here, can you untangle this? I picked up some dinner, and I'll go get it ready."
He stood up and handed me the string of lights, and I made him stop so I could kiss him. "I love you the most," I said with a grin.
Damien was gone for a couple minutes, then came in with plates. I abandoned the string of lights I was working on and sat at the small table in the corner by the tall windows to eat. Damien set the plates down and returned to the kitchen. When he came back out he had two steaming mugs in his hand. He set one in front of me and said, "Hot apple cider with bourbon."
"Has anyone told you that you're absolutely perfect?" I asked him.
"I wouldn't go that far," he replied, chuckling and shaking his head. "But I'll just be happy that you're happy."
We ate and then returned to the tree. I turned on my Pandora Christmas music station and we drank our spiked cider and decorated the tree together. I was showing off my sweet dance moves while we cleaned up the excess decorations when Damien wrapped an arm around my waist from behind and pulled me against him. "You don't like my Christmas dancing?" I asked, laughing.
"Hmm, it's fine," he replied, his breath tickling my neck, "But I had something else in mind now." He pushed my hair off my neck and started kissing along my shoulder and the back of my neck. "Unless," he said, stopping abruptly, "You'd like to carry on dancing by yourself."
"No," I said quickly. "No, I like your idea."
We ended up having sex pressed against one of the tall windows, which luckily wasn't visible by any other houses. We left the rest of the Christmas decorations and our mess from dinner and went straight up to the bedroom. It was a little chilly, but Damien turned on the fireplace and we climbed into bed. "How are you still tired?" Damien asked, as I yawned and curled up against him.
"It was a long short week," I replied, shrugging. It had been, since I'd had to try to cram a week's worth of work into two and a half days.
Turns out Damien shouldn't have talked, because he was asleep before I was. I carefully extricated myself from his grasp and rolled onto my other side and got settled. It didn't take me long, and I was soon asleep too.
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