Lorelei wakes me up in a frenzied panic, cooing when she notices the ice cream stains and the red marks on my face. I emerge from an uncomfortable dream in which I’m falling headfirst into a cave, and she helps me to my room and undresses me like I’m wasted, then sets me to bed.
“What time is it?” I say through the pounding in my forehead as she pulls my sweatshirt off me.
“Three AM.”
“Shit,” I moan, as she adjusts the blankets and I flop backwards. “I’ve got work tomorrow. My call time’s in five hours, I have to be on set by—”
“No you don’t! Jesus, you can’t go to work in this state. I’ll call them in the morning.”
I try to protest, but the heaviness in my eyelids pushes me back toward those gloomy dreams.
I wake up to the smell of coffee and the sound of Lorelei on the phone. For a few seconds I experience the bliss of nothingness – and then the memories of the night before enter my mind like annoying stabs. They’re quickly followed by the freight-train of fear that comes with being late for work. I throw the covers off and run out of my room toward the bathroom.
“Hold on, I’ll call you back, okay?” I hear Lorelei say in the other room, before she hurries over to stand in the doorway of the bathroom.
“I’m fucking late for work,” I say scrambling recklessly around in the sink to wash my face.
“No you’re not,” Lorelei says, calmly. I turn to look at her. “I called in sick for you.”
“What? But I can’t call in—” I stop myself. It only takes a deep breath to realize Lorelei did the right thing. I smile a little and hug her. “Thanks.”
When we break apart Lorelei looks at me like I’m a patient.
“I’ll make you a coffee, come on.”
Once I’m dressed and sitting in the living room, Lorelei brings me a big latte and I take it eagerly. She settles herself on the chair perpendicular to me, like a psychiatrist, and I let myself smile at the idea, but it disappears quickly. Smiles don’t stick when you have the kinds of worries I have.
I nod toward her computer. “Shouldn’t you be working now?”
“I can hand it in whenever,” Lorelei says casually. “Do you want to talk?”
I sip slowly from the coffee, but the mental fatigue and numbness seems to extend to my tastebuds.
“What’s there to talk about?”
“Jessie…” she says, making my name sound like a sigh. “You shouldn’t have watched those videos.”
“Yeah,” I say, nodding. “I should have. That’s the father of my child. The guy I thought I…” I don’t say the word. I can feel the tears building up in my sinuses already, and I’m scared even thinking the word would open the gates.
“I know it seems bad right now, Jessie, but Nate isn’t the worst person on the planet.”
I freeze halfway through bringing the cup to my lips in order to glare at Lorelei.
“Isn’t he? The guy has been making videos about his sex life for years now. He spends half the time talking about techniques and positions – some of which I wouldn’t even think were possible if he hadn’t done them with me – and the other half of the time talking about marriage like it’s an Illuminati plot to castrate all men. And the worst part is that he did it even while we were together. I mean, who does that? What kind of guy would do that?”
Lorelei looks at me sympathetically before shrugging.
“I don’t know. I admit it’s kinda weird. But at the same time, it’s kinda not. So he played the field, never expected to commit, and did those videos. Maybe they were an ego-boost, maybe it was therapeutic for him – I don’t know. But something changed when he met you.”
“Pfft.”
“It did, Jessie. You can see it in his videos. And by the fact that he hasn’t spent the past few months picking up more girls in bars. He’s been coming here. To be with you.”
“It was just sex.”
“Was it? Do you really think so?”
I look at Lorelei and find that my breath is shuddering. It’s the hope that kills you. Is Lorelei trying to kill me?
“Still,” I say, shaking my head so hard my hair tosses against my face, “it’s fucked up. Am I really going to raise a kid with a guy who makes videos about fucking random women? I don’t think he wants to be part of a family.”
The doorbell rings and Lorelei gets up, holding her hand out to stop me from going.
“Well. It would certainly make the ‘birds and the bees’ talk a lot more interesting.”
I smile into my coffee cup. But not for long.
The voice at the door is too far to hear clearly, but I can tell from Lorelei’s concerned voice that it’s not good news. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, my muscles stiffen, and I suddenly start wondering why our apartment doesn’t have a fire escape.
“Hold up!” Lorelei says, her voice getting louder. “Wait!”