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."

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.
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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.

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."

Lauren: An Apology

My plan to move off the bed and back to the chair doesn't work, because I end up falling asleep almost immediately.  When I finally wake up, it's light in the room and someone is bustling around.  I look up guiltily, straight into the face of a young nurse.  "I'm sorry," I say, quickly sliding off the bed.  "I didn't mean to fall asleep there, I was going to--"

She smiles kindly and holds up a hand, stopping me.  "It's okay," she says softly.  "But you're lucky it was me.  Some of the other nurses would have had a fit."

I start to thank her, but I'm interrupted by the sound of Alex's mom's voice in the hallway.  I immediately tense up, which doesn't go unnoticed by the nurse.  Alex's eyes flutter open and he groans, blinking in the bright daylight.  He squeezes his eyes shut again, clearly in pain, as his mom bustles into the room.  "Alex!" she exclaims dramatically, and I roll my eyes.  "Oh my god, Alex!"

"Could you please keep your voice down?" the young nurse asks politely.  When Alex's parents aren't looking, she winks at me.  I like her.  "Just so you know, he's scheduled to head downstairs for an MRI in 45 minutes."

"Well, we just got here," Sharon informs her snottily.  "Can't it be rescheduled?"

"Mom," Alex mutters.  "Don't be ridiculous."

"Sorry," the nurse says cheerfully.  "The schedule is tight, no wiggle room."    Sharon huffs but doesn't say anything else.  Instead, she sits down next to Alex's bed and stares at him.

"Lauren, my wife and I would be grateful if you could give us a few minutes with our son," Alex's dad says softly.  His face makes it clear that it's not actually a request, but I can tell he doesn't expect me to go.

"She stays if she wants to," Alex tells them.  "You've lost your right to kick her out."

"As if we ever had that right," Sharon snips, rolling her eyes.

"It's fine," I reply, turning back to Alex.  "I'm going to go find something to eat, okay?  I'll be back before you go down for your MRI."  He catches my hand and tugs gently, and I lean down and kiss him softly before I go.

I wander down to the hospital cafeteria and choose the most edible looking thing I can find.  I sit and eat at a small table near the window, staring out at the snow.  Now that Alex is awake and seems  relatively okay, I feel so much better.  My phone vibrates in my purse and I pull it out.  It's Liv calling, and I answer.  "Hello?'

"Hey, are you still at the hospital?" she asks.

"Yeah," I reply.  "I'm getting some breakfast.  Alex's parents just got here."

"Yuck," she says.  "How'd that go?"

"It was fine, his mom is being really dramatic.  Alex is awake.  He's got an MRI soon, but they seem pretty happy with everything.  The doctor and the nurses, I mean."

"Good."  The relief in Liv's voice is obvious.  "Everyone is really eager to see Alex before we have to head back.  Do you think it's okay if we come over around lunchtime?"

"I don't see why not," I respond, shrugging even though she can't see me.  "I'm sure it's fine.  You might have to fight his mom for access to her precious darling though."  Liv chuckles and I smile.  "I should go though, I told him I'd come back up before his MRI.  I'll see you a little later."

We say goodbye and I drop my stupid cafeteria tray in the bin near the door, then walk back towards the elevator.  When I get to Alex's room, his mom is sitting in the chair I'd vacated, holding his hand.  Both his parents look up when I enter the room.  Alex can't move his head that way, it's still locked into the stupid plastic brace.  Alex's dad smiles and his mom gives me a forced smile that looks more like a grimace.  David stands from the chair on the other side of the bed--the one Liv had sat in the night before.  "Here, go ahead and sit," he offers.

"It's okay," I say.  "You can sit there."

"I insist," he replies, stepping around to the other side of the bed and leaning against the wall behind Alex's mom.  I smile slightly and sit down.

Alex's eyes slide towards me and he smiles.  We're all silent for long enough that finally Alex says, "Talk about an awkward silence."

Luckily, the young, kind nurse returns then.  "Time to take him out of here," she chirps.  "He'll be back in an hour or so.  You guys are welcome to sit tight right here if you want."  Once she leaves with him, I immediately wish I'd waited to go get breakfast.  Now I'm sitting here with Alex's parents and no buffer.

"Lauren," his mom says stiffly.  "Will you walk with me?"  I regard her suspiciously.  "Please," she adds.  "I...I owe you an apology."

"Okay," I agree.

We stand and walk out into the hallway.  We make our way downstairs to the wide hallway outside the cafeteria.  Once we're there, she finally speaks.  "Your ring is beautiful," she says, her voice sad.  "Have you picked a date?"

"Well..." I start, but I trail off, not sure if I want to get into this right now.

"I understand that I made a mistake," she tells me.  "And I'm sorry.  I'll be honest, I still don't think you and my son are right for each other.  Our values just don't match up.  But when I saw your ring and realized that I made my only son angry enough that he wouldn't even tell me he was getting married, I couldn't believe it.  We were in there without you for over 30 minutes and he still didn't tell us, did you know that?"

"Mrs. Berg," I start, opting to address her formally.  "It's...not really an engagement ring.  At least, not at the moment.  I don't know what the future will bring.  And I don't know if that makes it better or worse."  She's clearly confused, and I toy with my ring as I push on.  "Marriage isn't really my thing.  But I love the hell out of your son, and I want to spend the rest of my life with him.  I know you know that feels the same way about me.  This isn't an engagement ring, it's just a really great piece of jewelry that he got me to symbolize that neither of us are going anywhere.  I don't really expect you to agree with that, but you don't have to."

"I don't understand it at all," she admits.  "But I see the way he looks at you.  He does love you very much.  Enough to be awful to his own parents in defense of you."  She stops walking abruptly, and turns towards me.  "Don't you dare ever take for granted how much that man loves you, do you understand me?  His father and I took him for granted, and now I doubt our relationship will ever be the same."  She starts walking again, turning back to face straight ahead.

"I won't," I say quietly.  When we get to the elevator she opts to go back up, while I decide to stay down here and pace the hallway awhile longer.  I make it to a random chair in the hallway and slump into it.  I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them, then rest my forehead on top.
I don't know if I'm exhausted or if Sharon's final plea really hit home, but I start to cry again.  I think about what Alex said last night and I wonder if he remembers it today.  It's no surprise to me that I have a hard time expressing my feelings, but I thought Alex understood me.  I thought he knew.  As I sniffle, I try to brainstorm a list of ways to do a better job letting him know I love him, but I quickly realize that I have absolutely no idea how to do it any differently.  This causes the tears to start up again, and I'm frustrated and angry at myself.

"You know," someone says suddenly, "I've found people crying in strange places before, but never here."  My head snaps up and I see the young nurse from Alex's room.  I look around and realize that I actually have no idea where I am.  "You're just outside our changing room," she informs me.  "How did you even get down here?"

"I have no idea," I reply, wiping furiously at my face.  "I just walked, and no one stopped me."

She sits down on the floor and looks at me curiously.  "You and his parents don't get along," she observes.

I snort.  "What gave that away?" I ask bitterly.  "His mother was on a mission to replace me at Thanksgiving.  She recruited the neighbor's perfect Southern belle daughter to help."

"That clearly worked out well for her," the nurse replies with a grin.

"Yeah, I don't think he's talked to either of them since, until this morning."  I feel overwhelmingly guilty then, as though it's my fault.  Maybe it is.

"Sounds like a pretty great Thanksgiving."

I appreciate her sarcasm, and I laugh.  "Something like that."

She stands, brushing her pants off with her hands.  "Well, his parents went out to find some breakfast and he should be back in his room soon, if you want a few minutes with him before his parents swoop back in."

"Thank you," I said, carefully uncurling myself from the chair.  "Um, how do I get back?"  She chuckles and leads me back to the elevator.  "Thanks," I say again.  "I appreciate it."  She nods and smiles, then heads toward the cafeteria.

I take the elevator up and make my way back to Alex's room.  It's blissfully empty and I stand by the window and stare out into the parking lot.  I zone out until I hear Alex's voice in the hallway.  He's being wheeled back into the room, and he looks more alert than he was earlier.  "Hey you," he says as the nurse with him helps him out of the wheelchair and back into the bed.

"Hey," I reply softly.  Once the nurse is out of the room, I go over and sit on the edge of the bed.  He reaches for my hand and our fingers twist together.  "Your parents went to go find breakfast," I tell him.  "How are you feeling?"

He makes a face.  "I'm really surprisingly tired.  I mean, I guess it's probably the pain meds, but it's weird.  I don't feel like I should be exhausted after spending so much time in a bed."

I nod, and it's pretty obvious I'm distracted.  "Hey," Alex says, squeezing my fingers.  "What's on your mind?"

I suck in a deep breath, and knowing that I probably don't have long before his parents come back, I say, "Last night you said something--"

"I know," he interrupts.  "Lauren, I didn't mean it.  I don't know where it came from.  I know you love me and I know you'd be devastated if I...well..." He trails off, but I know what he means.

"That's the thing, though," I reply.  "It came from somewhere.  And I know I'm not an easy person to love.  I'm pretty impressed you've managed it this long, actually."  I give him a small smile, which he returns.  "Look, I just want you to know that I want to do better.  I'm not really sure how, but I'll figure it out.  Last night when I realized that if something really bad had happened you might not have really known how I felt, it was pretty much the worst feeling in the world.  And I don't ever want that to be a thing again."

Alex is quiet for a minute, then the hint of a smirk starts on his face.  "You're easy to love.  I've been doing it for years.  But sometimes you're hard to like."

"Don't be a jerk!" I exclaim.  "You'll make me regret everything I just said."

"I don't want that," he replies, trying not to laugh.  Then he gets serious again.  "Lauren, I love you.  And I appreciate that you want to try to express your feelings more.  Honestly, I think you're way better at it now than you were a year ago, so I know you can do it.  But also, I meant it when I said that I love you the way you are, and I'd hate for you to go completely soft on me.  I wouldn't know what to do with a soft, sensitive Lauren."

I wrinkle my nose and shake my head.  "You don't have to worry about that," I assure him.  I fiddle with my ring, then hesitantly ask, "Are you really okay with never getting married?  Please be honest."

"I'm really okay with it," he answers.  "I promise.  Marriage is not something that's incredibly important to me either way, so if you wake up in 15 years and decide you want to get married, then cool, let's do it.  If that never happens, also cool.  What's important to me is being with you.  I don't need a piece of paper declaring us legally bound to each other."

"Okay," I say, nodding.

"And I definitely don't want you to want to marry me just because I was an idiot and busted up a few bones while I was skiing and scared the shit out of you," he adds, grinning at me.  That makes me laugh, and I lean down to kiss him.  "It's been far too long since I've brushed my teeth," he warns me, making a face.

"Hey, that makes two of us," I say, kissing him anyway.

Someone clears their throat, and we both look up to see Alex's parents standing in the doorway.  I start to stand up but Alex's mom shakes her head.  "Stay," she says.  "Please."  Even though I'm still uncomfortable around them, I sit back down on the bed next to Alex.  He squeezes my fingers lightly.

Alex's parents come into the room and sit down in the two hard plastic chairs in the room.  After a short awkward silence, Alex's dad finally starts talking about something funny that had happened while they were having breakfast.  I shift and get comfortable for what is sure to be a long day of hanging out in a hospital room with Alex and his parents.

Alex: The Morning After

Ask and you shall receive!  Also, I'm working on a Liv bonus post too.  No promises, but I hope to get it up on Sunday for you guys.  I hope all my US readers had a wonderful Thanksgiving!
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"Does Lauren get a lot of headaches?" my mom asked curiously, once Lauren was upstairs.  "She didn't look well at all."

"She gets migraines every once in awhile," I replied.  And she might also sometimes fakes migraines to get out of things she doesn't want to do, I added bitterly in my head.  I immediately felt guilty for even thinking that she might be faking her headache, but I also knew she didn't like hanging out with my parents.

"Well, I hope that she can get some sleep and that she feels better in the morning.  It would be such a shame for her to not feel well on your last full day here."  My mom's irritation at us from the day before seemed to be gone and she sounded sincere.  I nodded and followed her into the living room where my dad was sitting.

The rest of our evening was really nice, actually.  It was good to catch up with my parents a little, and honestly I was a little relieved to not have to worry about Lauren being uncomfortable.

I went up to bed around 11, trying to slip quietly into our room so I didn't wake Lauren up.  I was surprised to find her still awake, and in a nasty mood to boot.  What followed was easily the worst argument we'd ever had, and in addition to being mad at the things she was saying, I was embarrassed that she was acting like such a brat at my parents' house.  Luckily, once I ended the conversation, it didn't take me long to fall asleep.

When I woke up, I wasn't angry anymore.  Instead, I felt anxious.  I knew Lauren would still be angry when she woke up.  I hated fighting with her, and fighting with her about my family was even worse.  I slipped carefully out of bed, hoping to avoid the inevitable conflict for as long as possible.

"Good morning, sweetheart," my mom greeted me warmly when I walked into the kitchen.  She poured me a cup of coffee and I yawned as I sat down at the kitchen table.

"Morning," I replied.  I gratefully accepted the coffee when she handed it to me.  She sat down and regarded me carefully.

"Weren't Henry and Carolyn just lovely?" she asked, after I had taken a sip of the coffee.  

"Yeah, they were nice," I agreed.  

"Carolyn is so beautiful," she said wistfully.  She looked at me expectantly, but I didn't reply.  "Don't you think?" she prodded.

"She's certainly not ugly," I said carefully.  

My mom smiled. "Lauren is pretty, of course, but she's a little plain."

"What?" I asked, surprised.  

"The blonde hair and brown eye thing is so overdone," my mom complained.  "Carolyn's beauty is unique."

"Lauren is gorgeous," I protested.  I had no idea what else to say.  

"And Carolyn is so smart," my mom continued, not paying any attention to me.  "A pediatric oncology nurse...can you imagine?"

"Lauren is an engineer," I said defensively.  I suddenly felt possessed to defend the hell out of Lauren.  I also got the terrible feeling that Lauren had been right last night.

"But does that really help people?" my mom asked disdainfully.

"Of course it does," I replied.  "She--"

"And Carolyn comes from such a nice, upstanding family," she interrupted.  "Henry is widowed, can you even believe it?  How terrible."

"Is there a problem with Lauren's family?" I asked, agitated.  

"Well, I mean, her parents were never even married," my mom said with distaste.  "It's just no wonder she's turned out the way she is."

"The way she is?" I parroted.  "You need to stop.  I love Lauren, and I don't appreciate this bullshit."

"Watch your mouth, Alexander," she cautioned me.  "Do you really want to marry someone that hasn't had a good marriage modeled for her?  That poor girl probably learned from her mother than she should be independent and make her own decisions without regard to what other people think.  She'll never be able to see you as an equal.  She's already a bit too bossy, don't you think?"

"No!" I exclaimed.  "I don't!  You're right though--Lauren is independent and doesn't care what other people think.  And I like that about her.  This is fucked.  I'm not going to sit and let you insult my girlfriend and her family.  I love her, and she's right upstairs, for fuck's sake."

My mom frowned.  "Don't you talk to me like that."  

"Then stop disrespecting Lauren."

"Look, Alex," my mom said, her voice suddenly kind again.  "I just want you to be happy."

"I am happy!" I snapped.  "I plan to spend the rest of my life with Lauren, whether you like it or not.  If you'd stop being so goddamned snobby for 5 seconds, you'd realize that Lauren is everything I've ever wanted.  But you don't give a shit about what I want; you just want me to marry someone that will make you look good!"

"You're so dramatic," my mom replied, rolling her eyes.  "Of course I want you to be happy, sweetheart.  But I think you'll be so much happier with someone like Carolyn, don't you?  Carolyn would never emasculate you."

"No!" I yell, standing up.  "I don't think I'll be so much happier with someone like Carolyn!  I'm happy, and I might have fucked it up by trusting you over her.  She knew exactly what you were doing.  I can't believe this.  And Lauren doesn't emasculate me...Jesus."

"You're being ridiculous," my mom said.  "Would you sit down?"

"What's going on?" my dad asked, appearing in the doorway.  

"Your son is being dramatic," my mom replied, standing to get him some coffee.

"Your wife is being a bitch," I say coolly.  

Both of my parents' heads snap towards me and my dad frowns angrily.  "Don't you talk about your mother like that," he said.

"I won't," I replied.  "I'm going to go upstairs, pack my shit, wake up my girlfriend, and leave.  I can't even look at you guys right now.  Stay the hell out of my way."  With that, I stormed upstairs.  I stopped outside the door to the guest room to collect myself before I woke Lauren up.  When I felt a little calmer, I quietly opened the door.

Lauren didn't stir, so I took a few minutes to pack my stuff up.  Then I looked over at her suitcase.  It looked like it had exploded, even though we'd only be here for 36 hours.  I carefully folded all her clothes and tucked them back into the suitcase, then went into the bathroom and gathered my stuff and the stuff I was sure was hers.

Finally, I sat carefully on the edge of the bed and stroked Lauren's hair.  She stirred but didn't wake up.  I carefully pushed a few stray pieces out of her face.  The brief smile that flitted across her lips gave me hope, but as soon as her eyes opened it went away.  I talked fast, hoping she'd at least hear what I had to say before she went off on me.

I gave her some space to get ready, and I could tell she was still mad.  My parents were nowhere to be seen as we walked down the stairs and outside, and I was relieved.  I wanted nothing to do with them right now, and I definitely didn't want to subject Lauren to them at this moment.

Lauren was silent the entire drive and all the way to our room.  Finally, when I couldn't stand the silence anymore, I said, "You're still angry."  I'm not a big enough idiot to ask her what was wrong or if she was okay.  I knew damn well that she was not okay and what was wrong.

Her calm, thoughtful response scares me.  As much as I hate how Lauren fights, I at least know what to expect and how to navigate it.  I have no idea what to do with this suddenly rational woman in front of me.  It's out of the ordinary and it makes me worry about our relationship for the first time since Logan's text popped up on her phone.  Even so, I quickly agree to give her the space she needs.  If this is a new thing she's trying out, I want to encourage it.

I leave the hotel and wander around downtown Savannah, looking for a place to get something to eat and some more coffee.  I finally found a place where I didn't feel like an idiot by myself.  It was hipster as hell, but they had some really amazing French toast and excellent coffee.  I took my time, trying to not play out possible conversations with Lauren in my head.  When I finished, I wandered around some more.  I went into a few random shops to procrastinate a little more and finally stopped at a little cafe where I grabbed some breakfast and coffee for Lauren.

Finally, I headed back towards the hotel, ready to try to fix this disaster.

Lauren: Inferior

I wake up to Alex gently pushing my hair out of my face.  I'm instantly annoyed, because I'm still mad.  I can't believe he has the nerve to wake me up.  I try to avoid how good his fingers feel on my scalp and glare up at him, quickly noticing that he looks sheepish.

"I know you're pissed at me," he says quickly.  "And I owe you a huge apology.  You were absolutely right last night.  I'm sorry."

I stay silent, processing this and wondering what caused his change of heart.  "I've been up for a little while, and I was talking to my mom," he explains, reading my mind.  "She couldn't stop comparing Carolyn to you, and telling me all the ways Carolyn is better than you in her eyes.  We just had it out, and I'm really sorry that I didn't hear you out last night.  I booked us a room for tonight at the hotel we were at, and we'll leave as soon as you're up.  I already packed up your stuff, but you might want to check the bathroom because I wasn't totally sure what was already here and what's yours.  All that stuff looks the same to me."

"Okay," I reply, still trying to wrap my brain around what's happening.  I just don't wake up quickly.

I struggle into a sitting position and swing my legs over the side of the bed, pausing to yawn and try to rub the sleep from my eyes.  I feel self-conscious changing in front of Alex since I'm still mad at him, so I pull some jeans and a shirt out of my suitcase and go into the bathroom.  I take my time getting dressed, brushing my teeth, and washing my face.  Even though Alex apologized and we're leaving, I'm still really confused and hurt at his flat out refusal to see my side of the issue last night.

I grab the last of my stuff from the bathroom and head back into the guest room.  I shove my stuff in my suitcase and zip it up, then stand it up.  Alex reaches for it but I say, "I've got it."  He frowns briefly, then nods, making the wise choice not to argue.  I follow him down the stairs and out the door.  His parents are nowhere to be found and he makes no attempt to find them to say goodbye.  I feel simultaneously vindicated and guilty.

I'm silent as I struggle to lift my suitcase into the trunk of the rental car.  "Do you want help?" Alex asks quietly.

"Yes, please," I say reluctantly.  I let go of the suitcase and leave it there for him to take care of, walking away so I don't have to watch him lift it into the truck.  I should probably consider working out every once in awhile.

We drive silently to the hotel and check in.  Luckily, our room is available already and we're able to go right to it instead of waiting until the 3pm check-in time.  When we get up to the room I decide to switch my jeans for sweatpants and climb into the bed.  I'm tired.  I didn't sleep well last night.

"You're still angry," Alex observes.

I consider ignoring him, but that's not going to get us anywhere.  "I'm not sure angry is the right word.  I'm feeling a lot of things.  I think we need to talk about it, but I need some time to sort everything out.  Can we talk in a little while?"  This is probably one of the most adult ways I've ever handled a conflict, and even Alex looks surprised by my calm tone.

"Absolutely," he replies immediately.  "How about you let me know when you're ready?"  I nodded.  "I'm going to go find some coffee and breakfast, then.  Can I bring you back something?"

"Sure," I reply.  "I mean, if you end up somewhere that has something I'd like.  You don't have to make a special trip or anything."

"Okay," he says, nodding.  He walks to the door of the hotel room and pauses, his hand on the knob.  He turns back and says, "Lauren?" I look up at him.  "I love you.  And I'm sorry."

"I know.  I love you too."  It comes out sounding a little flat, but I mean it.  I can tell he's pretty distraught by the situation and that's oddly a little comforting to me.  I don't want him to feel bad, but I do want him to know that he fucked up.  Because he did.

I manage to fall asleep for a little while, and I wake up when Alex quietly slips back into the room.  "Sorry," he says softly when I stir.

"It's fine," I reply, sitting up and yawning.  Alex sets a bag and a large plastic cup of iced coffee on the nightstand.  "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he says.  "I'm going to shower."  I nod and peek in the bag.  There's a heavenly-smelling breakfast sandwich plus a container of fruit salad.  I'm suddenly starving and I take out the sandwich and unwrap it.

I'm finished inhaling my breakfast by the time Alex emerges from the bathroom.  I haul myself out of bed and throw my garbage in the trash can, then sit cross-legged on the end of the bed.  "Can we talk now?" I ask Alex.  I'm nervous and I can't put my finger on why.  I wonder briefly if I'm overreacting or being dramatic, but I realize it doesn't matter.  My feelings are my feelings and Alex disrespected them last night.

"Yes," he replies immediately.  He sits in the desk chair and swivels it to face me, then waits.

"I was mad last night," I start hesitantly.  I'm not sure if I can accurately explain my feelings without getting worked up.  "I realize that I didn't approach the conversation well at all, and I'm sorry."  Apologizing is a little painful, but I know it's the right thing to do.

Alex nods and says, "You really caught me off guard.  I didn't respond well to you, and I'm sorry for that."

This is almost going too well, and it's making me even more nervous.  I twist a chunk of the sheet in my hands and look down before continuing.  "Your parents, especially your mom, have a really great way of making me feel inferior.  Your mom looks at me like I'm a piece of dead leaf that you tracked onto her perfect white carpet.  It seems like you just don't see it, and maybe I'm being dramatic, but I feel like shit around them.  I don't feel like that around many people, so I don't think it's just me."

I pause and look at him.  His face is neutral but his eyes look sad and worried.  He shrugs.  "You're right, I didn't see it.  I did think you were being dramatic until this morning.  And I don't know why I couldn't see it.  I didn't think my mom was capable of being so purposely awful to someone I love so much."

"What did she say?" I ask curiously.  "This morning, I mean."

Alex shakes his head and replies, "I'll tell you if you really want to know, but all it's going to do is upset you more, and I'd honestly prefer to not tell you."

"Okay, never mind," I say quickly.  I trust him and if he doesn't want to tell me, I know I don't want to know.  I take a deep breath and keep talking.  "I was really hurt with how you responded to me last night.  I know part of that is because I was hostile and attacking from the start, but you completely dismissed me and straight up told me you thought I was overreacting.  It was really confusing, especially with how quick you were to defend me the night before.  I've never really felt like you had my back with your parents, and it was nice that you stood up for me, even if it was just about where I slept.  But then..." I trail off and shrug.

Alex gets up and walks over to the bed, then sits next to me.  He tentatively reaches for my hand and I let him take it.  "Lauren, you're absolutely right.  I didn't have your back last night and it was shitty.  I was oblivious and I'm honestly surprised I didn't see what she was doing.  I was mad because I felt like you never gave my parents a chance.  They lived fairly close until they moved and you never wanted to go see them with me. That was hard for me.  My mom has always been a little stuck up, and I guess I was just used to it.  I don't think I realized how inferior you felt around them.  You never told me."

He has a point.  I haven't told him how I feel around his family.  I've told him how I feel about his family, but I've never really explained why.  Once again, my poor communication with him bites me in the ass.  Despite myself, a lump rises in my throat and I blink furiously.  I'm mad at myself for not communicating with him better, mad at his mom for being such a wretched snob, mad at myself for getting emotional right now, and relieved with how this conversation is going.

"I didn't," I reply.  "You're right.  That was stupid."  I drop my gaze again and pull on the sheet, furiously fighting the tears welling up in my eyes.

"Don't do that," Alex says suddenly, fiercely.  "My mom treated you like shit, and I'm not going to let you beat yourself up about any of this.  I wish you had told me, but you're telling me now and I'm grateful for that.  And even if you had told me, it wouldn't have changed what happened yesterday."  That's all it takes for my tears to spill over, and I suck in a shaky breath and try to keep myself from sobbing like an idiot.  Alex wraps his arms around me and I slump against him, pressing my face into his chest.  He strokes my hair as I try to get myself together.

Finally, I pull away and look up at him.  I wipe my face with my hands and say, "I was so mad at you last night.  I don't think I've ever been that mad at anyone before."

"I'm glad you're using the past tense," he replies with a small smile.  "I love you, Lauren."

"I love you too," I say, shutting my eyes as he cups his hand against my jaw.  I don't want to talk anymore and I let him guide my face towards his.  He kisses me softly, but I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him again, harder.

Alex kisses me for several seconds before he gently pulls away.  He pushes my hair behind my ear and says, "Are we okay?"  I nod, shutting my eyes and resting my face against his hand.  He shifts his hand, wrapping it around the back of my neck and leaning towards me again.  This time, he kisses me hungrily and I sigh in relief, tightening my arms around his neck.

Alex wraps his arms around me and lifts me onto his lap.  I straddle his legs and grip his shirt tightly as we kiss desperately.  I want to forget everything that's happened in the last 24 hours, and I finally start to let go of it as Alex moves his lips to my neck.  He pauses to pull off his shirt and mine, then he lays back, pulling me with him.  I stay on top of him and his hands run down my back, over my ass, down my legs, and back up to unhook my bra.

I roll to the side so I can shimmy out of my sweatpants, and he quickly removes his athletic shorts.  Alex rolls on top of me and pushes my legs apart.  He lowers his head between my legs and goes down on me until I come, then slides up my body and thrusts hard into me.  I cry out in pleasure and surprise at his quick entry, and he quiets me by pressing his lips against mine.  My legs wrap around his hips on their own and I grip his back tightly as he moves against me.

It doesn't take long for me to come again, and I squirm under him and moan against his shoulder.  It seems to set off his own orgasm, and I feel him tense, then shiver.  He groans and stops moving, breathing hard against my neck.  Neither of us move for a long time.  We just lay there, catching our breath and clutching each other.

Finally Alex rolls off of me, sprawling across the bed on his back.  I roll quickly onto my side, snuggling up against him.  He wraps one arm around my back and strokes my shoulder with his other hand, and I relax completely.  I'm starting to drift off when Alex says, "I hate fighting with you."

"I hate when you do something stupid enough to make me mad," I reply, my tone light.

Alex laughs and shakes his head.  "I know, I'm such a dick."

"You are," I agree, smiling.  I push myself up on my elbow and look down at him. "But I love you.  So stupidly much."

He grinned up at me.  "I love you too, Laur.  I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

I laughed, because it probably was.

Lauren: Thanksgiving

By the time we're on the plane to Savannah, I've forgotten about the shitty week I had at work.  Mostly because I hate flying with Alex.  He drives me crazy because he's far too laid back and I'm far too rigid, and our travel styles don't mesh at all.  I like to get to the airport with plenty of time to spare, he prefers to roll up to the gate as the flight is boarding.  I like to check in and pay baggage fees online ahead of time, he prefers to do it at the stupid little computer kiosks at the airport.  I'm ready to kill him by the time we're in our seats on the plane, and when he leans over me to look out the window, I snap.  "Can you please not touch me for 5 minutes?" I hiss.

He sits up and gives me a look.  He doesn't say anything, but he moves out of my space.  I turn my head and look out the window, sucking in a deep breath.  Once I calm down, I turn back to him and say, "I'm sorry.  I'm done acting like a bitch."

"Does flying make you nervous?" he asks curiously.

I frown and say, "No, why would you ask that?"

"You always get extra bitchy when you're nervous," he points out.

"I do?"

"You do," he confirms with a chuckle.

I consider this and realize he might be right.  "Well, maybe," I admit.  "I guess I didn't even really notice, I just know I get really cranky when I fly.  I'm sorry I was such a brat."

"I accept your apology," Alex replies.  We spend most of the flight in comfortable silence and I realize that I am a little nervous.  I almost wish he hadn't drawn my attention to it, because knowing I'm nervous makes me more nervous.

The flight is actually a really good one, and I'm excited to get to the hotel when we land.  This is our first real trip together (I'm just not counting going to Wisconsin and staying with my mom or going camping), and now that I'm off the plane that I didn't even realize scared me, I'm in a much better mood.

We take a cab to our hotel and check in, and I'm pretty impressed with the room.  I'm standing and looking out the window when Alex walks up behind me.  He slides his hands over my shoulders and squeezes gently.  "You're still so tense," he comments.

"Well, apparently I'm afraid of flying," I reply, laughing.  I turn around and face him, sliding my arms around his neck.  "Maybe you should help me relax."

"Are you propositioning me?" he asks, feigning shock.  "How inappropriate."

"You're the worst," I reply, rolling my eyes.  "Shut up and kiss me."  At least he can still follow directions, because he does kiss me, pressing me back against the cool glass of the window behind me.  When we separate to take off some clothing, he tugs me over until my back is against the wall next to the window.  Within minutes he's on his knees in front of me with one of my legs over his shoulder.  I push my hands into his hair, tugging and moaning when I come.

We have sex against the wall, then again in the big, comfortable bed.  After, we spend about 15 minutes on our phones, trying to figure out where we should go for dinner.  In the end, we decide to order to room service and be lazy.  I'm not mad about it.


Our "us time" in Savannah goes too quickly.  We don't get a chance to eat at all the restaurants I'd picked out (as if Alex would do any research or have any plan for what he wants to do).  We don't get to a lot of the things I thought would be cool, actually.  But we have a lot of fun.  We don't bicker at all, except in our normal playful way.  I actually relax a little and neither of us get irritated with the other, even when we get confused and maybe a little lost when we try to find Forsythe Park like the tourists we are.

We're having such a good time wandering around and exploring the city that Alex tells his parents we won't be to their house until after dinner time on Wednesday.  When we get there, they are clearly irritated.  Sharon, his mom, greets him stiffly.  "Hello, Alexander."  I have to work really hard to be conscious of what my face is doing, because the last thing I needed was to side-eye his mom and get caught.  "Lauren," she continues, glancing at me briefly before hugging Alex.

"Mom, no one's called me that since I was 7," Alex complains.  "Not even you."

"Alex?" His dad's voice carries from outside the foyer.

"Don't yell, David," Sharon scolds him when he makes his way into the foyer finally.

"Hello, son," David greets Alex, much more warmly than Sharon did.  "And Lauren, it's good to see you.  I'm so glad you guys made it down here.  Have you enjoyed the city?"

"Yes, very much," I answer politely.  "Thank you."

"Have you eaten?" Sharon asks.  "I can warm you up something.  We have--"

"We ate, Mom," Alex answers, cutting her off.  "Thank you.  Can we see the house?"

Sharon shows us around the house, which is very nice, in a Pottery Barn catalog sort of way.  I feel like I'll get a dirty look if I touch anything, much less sit on something.  So I keep my hands to myself and trail behind them, feeling seriously inferior already.  It certainly doesn't help when Sharon turns to me and says, "We unfortunately only have one guest room, but we set up an air mattress for you in the office, dear."

Alex jumps in before I can even collect myself and respond.  "Mom, Lauren isn't sleeping on an air mattress."

"Alright," she replies cooly.  "Then you can, and she can have your bed.  It doesn't matter to me."

I see Alex's jaw tick, and he says, "No one is sleeping on an air mattress.  Please don't be ridiculous."

"Oh, let the kids sleep together, Shar," Alex's dad calls from the bottom of the stairs.  "You're not preventing anything by shoving Lauren in the office on that god awful airbed."  I'm not sure if I should be horrified or thankful, so all I do is stand there.  Sharon shoots a very angry look down the stairs before finally shrugging and continuing the tour.

Luckily, we only have to deal with his parents for a couple hours before they go to bed.  As soon as their door closes, Alex looks at me.  "I'm really sorry," he says.  "She was in fine form tonight."

"It's fine," I reply, glancing at him and then away.

"It's not," he says, shaking his head.  "She was ridiculous.  Thank you for being so polite to them."  I shrug, uncomfortable with the conversation, and suggest we go to bed too.

When I wake up in the morning, Alex is already out of bed and I hear noise from the kitchen downstairs.  I'm getting dressed when Alex comes back into the room, freshly showered and dressed.  "Do you want to shower?" he asks me.

"No, I think I'll shower a little later in the morning if that's okay."

"Should be fine," he replies.  "My mom has all sorts of fun things for us to do today."  He grimaces as he says it, and I can hardly wait.

Sharon puts us to work cleaning the already immaculate dining room and helping her prepare some of the food.  She criticizes and corrects nearly everything either of us does, and I'm exhausted by the time I manage to sneak away for a shower.  When I come back downstairs, she's chatting happily away about the neighbor and his daughter and how lovely it is that they'll be joining us.  Barely 5 minutes later, a chime alerts us to the fact that someone's at the door.  "That must be Henry and Carolyn," Sharon says excitedly.  She heads for the door, almost forgetting for a second to walk at a composed, stately pace.

When I see her, I almost groan out loud.  Carolyn is tall with perfect hourglass curves and legs that are obscenely long.  Her auburn hair is smooth, shiny, and has just the right amount of wave to make it interesting.  Its color complements her piercing blue eyes really ridiculously well.  For some reason, when I heard "neighbor and his daughter" I imagined a kid, not someone roughly our age.

"Hi, it's so nice to meet you both," she says sweetly, shaking Alex's hand and then mine.  "Thanks for sharing your Thanksgiving with my dad and I."  Her voice has just a hint of a lilting southern accent.  It's lovely, and the perfect way to tie a pretty bow on a beautiful package.

"It's nice to meet you too," Alex says.  He subtly elbows me and I smile and murmur something similar.

Once we sit down at the table, Alex's mom focuses all her attention on Carolyn.  "So, Carolyn," she says brightly, "Your father tells us that you're a pediatric nurse?"

"Yes, I work in pediatric oncology," Carolyn answers with a polite and friendly smile.

"Oh, that must be so difficult," Sharon gushes.  "How do you do it?"

"It is, but it's also really rewarding.  I love working with the kids and doing anything I can to make their days a little brighter."

"Did you hear that?" Sharon asks, turning to Alex.  "What a lovely girl she is."  Carolyn smiles demurely and looks down at her plate.

The rest of dinner is basically 20 questions about Carolyn's achievements.  By the end of dinner I know that she had graduated summa cum laude from Auburn, was philanthropy chair of her sorority, is in the process of applying to graduate school to become a nurse practitioner, was captain of her high school's tennis team, and volunteers at the local animal shelter on the weekends.  I want to vomit.  Every time she reveals another tidbit displaying how perfectly perfect she is, Sharon turns to Alex and nudges him or makes a comment about how wonderful it is.

Sharon effectively pretends I don't exist throughout dinner, despite Alex, David, and Carolyn's attempts to include me in the conversation.  I am seething by the end of dinner, and raging mad by the time we've finished dessert and Carolyn and her dad excuse themselves and go home.  It's taking everything I have to keep my mouth shut.  Once they're gone, Alex looks at me and frowns.  "Are you okay?" he asks.  "You don't look so good."

I jump on it and say, "I actually really have a really terrible headache."

"Oh, you should go lie down for awhile," Sharon suggests, only too happy to get rid of me.

"Yeah," Alex agrees, though he looks concerned.  "That's not a bad idea."

I look at the clock and see it's already 8:30.  "I think I might just go to bed," I agree.  "Dinner was wonderful, thank you so much.  I hope to be feeling better in the morning."

"Oh, don't worry," Sharon says, her voice overly kind.  "Just get some rest.  We'll be fine just spending some time with our son."

I make my escape and get ready for bed.  I lay down, hoping I might fall asleep.  But laying in the dark with no distractions gives me too much time to think about what had happened tonight.  The more I think about it, the angrier I get.

By the time poor, unsuspecting Alex comes to bed, he's walking directly into the lion's den.  I'm more awake than I have been all day, and I'm so angry I don't know what to do with myself.  Not at Alex, of course, but at his mother.

"You're still up?" Alex asks.  "How's your head?"

"My head is fine," I say.  "How'd you like the lovely and talented Carolyn?"

"Um, she was nice," he replies, sounding confused.  "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious if you think she's as good of wife material as your mother does."

"Whoa, what?  What are you talking about?"

I snort.  "Your mom invited her here because she thinks she'd make a lovely wife for you."

"Are you jealous?" Alex asks, sounding surprised.

"Jealous?!" I hiss, furiously.  "No.  I'm fucking pissed off!"

"I don't understand, Lauren.  You're mad at me?"

I take a deep breath and say, "No.  You didn't do anything to upset me.  I'm angry at your mom, Alex.  She invited Carolyn here to try to tempt you away from me.  She wants you to meet a nice Southern girl, break up with me, move down here, and marry into a nice wealthy, upstanding family."

"Okay, so let's pretend for a minute that you're right about my mom's motivations," he replies.  "Do you really think I could be tempted away from you?  Jesus Christ, Lauren. I was in love with you for 8 years before we started dating.  A pretty girl at Thanksgiving dinner isn't going to ruin it."

"That's not the point," I snap.

"Then what is the point?  Because I guess I'm still not understanding."

"The point is that it was ridiculously disrespectful.  Your mom has absolutely no respect for me, and she demonstrated it tonight in front of an audience."

"I don't agree with that at all, and I think you're overreacting," he replies.

"You're going to take your mom's side over mine?" I ask, aghast and furious.  "Alex, you know your parents don't like me.  You yourself apologized last night for how she acted yesterday!"

"I'm not taking anyone's side, because there're no sides to take," he says, exasperated.  "And I'm starting to get upset that you keep basically saying that my mom is an underhanded, manipulative woman."

"Well, I'm getting upset that you're refusing to even consider that this was purposeful and disrespectful!"

"Please keep your voice down," Alex scolds me.

"Are you for real right now?" I ask.

"Yes," he whispers loudly.  "Unless you want to explain to my parents why you lied about having a headache.  Would you like to go accuse my mom of blatantly disrespecting you?  If not, I'd prefer to keep this a private argument, which means I'd appreciate it if you were more aware of your volume."

"I can't even believe that we're having this conversation," I say.

Alex gets into bed.  "Well, I'm pretty done with it myself."

"Fine," I snap.  I roll over in a huff and get as close to the edge of the bed as I can.

"Goodnight," Alex says tentatively.

"Goodnight," I reply angrily.  He decides it's in his best interest to not respond, and he's quiet.

Of course, like a typical man, he falls asleep right away.  Irrationally, I'm irritated about this.  It hardly seems fair that he should be able to fall asleep immediately while I sit here angry, tossing and turning.  Finally, after about an hour, I manage to fall asleep.