“And how do you know that?”
“Because I’ve thought about it a million times since they ran off. When could they have been together? Hannah is just as much a workaholic as I am. Between us and the hospital, she didn’t have much free time, so how could she have had another relationship? Then I realized it probably wasn't a relationship, just sex. It must have been really exciting, sneaking around, worrying about either of us finding out. But a relationship based on nothing but sex and excitement can’t last. Any two people with working organs can have a great screw, but believe me, that doesn’t change how empty and meaningless it really is. They may not realize it now, but one day it will hit them.” He glanced up at me, showing me the newly changed screensaver of a baby panda. “Or at least, that’s what I tell myself.”
“Then I’ll tell myself that as well,” I replied, changing the photo for him.
“Shamelessly promoting your own work, I see,” he said when I handed the phone back. I had changed it to one of my oil paintings of a child standing in the rain.
“A girl's got to eat,” I joked, accepting my phone.
No matter how badly Bash and I had ended, at least I could never say our relationship had been empty or meaningless.
Eli
Groaning, I rolled over and reached for my phone as it buzzed and vibrated on the floor. My head felt as if it would break open.
Urgh, I drank way too much. “Dr. Davenport,” I yawned into the phone.
“Eli, where are you? Are you all right?”
My mother sounded a lot more worried than she should have, seeing as how I was a grown man. “I’m fine, Mom—”
“Then did you just forget about our brunch?”
“No, our brunch, that’s not until…” I tilted my wrist to see the time: already quarter to noon. “Shit—”
“Why are you so loud?” said none other than Guinevere, curled up in a ball beside me on her living room floor. Her dark brown hair covered half of her face, and drool leaked from the corner of her mouth.
That is definitely attractive, I sarcastically thought to myself as I sat up, my back aching from lying flat on the ground.
“Who was that?” My mom was still on the line.
“Mom, where are you now? I’ll come meet you in twenty.”
“I just got to your apartment—”
“What?” I yelled as I ran toward the door. I had hoped to meet her halfway, but when I opened the door, there she was, dressed in a soft peach suit, her hair tucked behind her ears. With the phone still in one hand and a plate of freshly baked muffins in the other, she turned, staring at me in confusion. “Why are you—”
“What are you yelling about so early in the morning?” Guinevere stumbled out of the living room, coming to stand beside me at the door. She rubbed her eyes and yawned, her dog walking over to rest beside her.
I stared at her, speechless, before glancing back to my mother, whose eyes widened in realization; I did not like whatever she was thinking right then. “Mom, this is Guinevere Poe.”
When I said ‘Mom’, I saw Guinevere’s head snap toward my mother.
“Wow, this looks really bad. We were drinking last night—no, I mean—crap, nothing happened.” She rambled on, quickly making me want to bang my head against the beam of the door and beg her to shut up.
My mother took a step forward, a grin growing on her face. “Wait, did you say Guinevere Poe? As in the artist?”
“Yes,” I answered. “And I’m sure she has a lot of work to get back to.”
“Yeah, a lot of work,” she repeated.
I stepped out of her apartment. “We should get going …”
“Wait.”
My mother broke away from me as I tried to lead her back to my place.
“We were just going to have brunch at the coffeeshop on 5th. Please, join us. I’ve been trying to get into your studio for weeks, but it’s damn near impossible.”
“I’m not really presentable.”
I’ll say.
My mother laughed. “Presentable? Who are you presenting yourself to? You look lovely.”
I coughed at that.
Guinevere glared at me before returning her attention to my mother.
“Don’t mind him, he’s worried I’ll embarrass him. But, I made muffins.” She gifted one to Guinevere, whose stare drifted to me as if to scream for help.
I opened my mouth to say something…anything, but nothing came to me. Clasping my hand over my mouth, I shook my head, not really sure what to make of the situation.
Why did we fall asleep? We had drunk and talked all night about our crappy lives… I vaguely remembered going back for more wine before everything became a blur.
“Okay, how about I meet you there in a half hour, if that's all right?”
She'd caved…the weakling.
They chatted for a second longer before my mother let her go, and I opened the door to my apartment. When inside, she hit me on the shoulder.
“Mom!”