You've Got Mail
Pt 1
Fiction

 It was a day like any other day, which were mostly all the same.

Wake up around 8. Check email, find nothing exciting. Have some coffee. Read the paper. Talk to Tyler. Head down to the studio for a few hours, work  on music, like anyone will hear it. Then after a few hours, eat-- sometimes with a girl that bored him.  Sometimes see a movie--sometimes with a girl that bored him (and sometimes have sex with her but most times not). Make phone calls. Check email. Shower. Sleep.  It was the same routine, everyday.  He went the same places. Did the same things. And while his schedule frequently varied, more often than not, he had nothing planned and that was his day. Sometimes the routine is comforting. Sometimes the monotony made his brain fuzzy and tired. He felt unchallenged, and his life lacked passion.  Excitement. He felt jealous of others who woke up excited and went to bed excited and felt fulfilled and had CAREERS.

Sure, he'd built something for himself. He worked steadily, just to have something to do, mostly. More out of habit than anything else, and because... well, because yes.  It wasn't such a bad exchange for so long lived in a fishbowl, with no privacy, no space to call your own and looking at the same faces for seven years straight. Still, it was nothing compared to what he'd tasted, and wanted to taste again-- but seemed just beyond his grasp. Just beyond what he was willing to do to taste again. “I mean, I have my standards,” he always told himself. “I'm not gonna sell myself out just to make a buck and have some people scream my name. Fuck that.”

So, it was just a day, like any other. Like all the others. He'd showered, and as usual, picked up the light notebook PC and logged into his email. He made another note to himself to check his junk mail filter. He didn't need any Viagra. He need a Nigerian to make him a multi millionaire for just doing him one small favor. He was pretty sure he knew how to 'please her with his fuckstick'. “Maybe if I did less surfing for porn, I would get fewer pornographic emails,” he told himself.

He sifted through the junk, moved the forwards from his mom, and Tum, and Tyler and various friends into his 'read when I'm so bored I want to shoot myself' folder and glanced through the rest to see if there was anything he should keep.

He kept skipping a particular email. It looked like junk, but it sort of didn't look like junk. He knew spammers had these tricks where it looked like the email was something a friend would send to you, and this one could have been one of those... except it just didn't seem like it was. He opened it, scanned it, and was confused.  

Subject: Your mom gave me your email address-- It's Shannon.
 

Hey, stranger! I ran into your mom the other night. I haven't seen you in FOR. EVER. Seeing her made me miss you.

What are you doing these days? I'd love to catch up with you! How's Saucy Rossy? Is he still stupid??? Haha! I miss you guys... write me back. That whole… thing isn't worth all these years we've lost. Let's just put it behind us, OK?

Hope to hear from you,

Shannon

The confusing part--he didn't know a Shannon. His mom wouldn't give out his email address. And who was Saucy Rossy? He decided it must have been a misfire and deleted it. Finding nothing more of interest in his inbox-- like anything he could get excited over-- he logged out and set the notebook on his nightstand and rolled over, falling asleep easily.

More days that were the same, but different. It was Groundhog Day, except some days he actually had 'things' to do. Truthfully he invented 'things' to do otherwise he started to go stir crazy. He asked girls out, not because he really liked them, but because he wanted someone to talk to. Some of them were actually nice and he felt bad about not calling them back-- but he just wanted company, not really a lifetime commitment. “It's selfish, I know, but I just don't have time or energy to devote to a girl right now. Not the right way,” he told himself.

A few days later, he’d finished his usual day-just-like-any-other-day and picked up his notebook, and dug through his email, and deleted the porn and spam, and filtered the forwards, and then checked through anything new. Another email from Shannon was in his inbox. How do you send two emails to the wrong address? He felt a little like he was eavesdropping on a private conversation, but he was curious, so he opened it. It read:

Subject: So I guess you're still really mad at me?
 

 OK, I didn't hear from you. Not that I thought the appearance of my name in your inbox would make you do cartwheels or anything. I just thought... well... I guess I thought you'd want to be friends again. Your mom made it sound like maybe you were ready to forgive me. And I hoped I would have the chance to tell you that what you thought happened, didn't.

Yes, after four years, I'm still singing the same song, because it's true. I didn't sleep with him. I let you think I did. But I didn't. And that was wrong and I am sorry about that.

Well anyway, your silence speaks volumes. Either you didn't read my email or you read it and don't care. Either way... I guess I'll leave the ball in your court.

Take care, say hi to Rossy. 
 

Shannon

He shrugged, and pressed 'reply'.

Subject: Re: So I guess you're really mad at me?
 

Hi, Shannon. Uh, I don't know how to say this but I have no idea who you are or who you're supposed to be writing to. I don't know a Shannon from four years ago and I know a Ross but if I called him Saucy Rossy, he'd knock me out.

I didn't want you to go on thinking that this guy was ignoring you... but for what it's worth if this guy wanted to be friends with you, I hardly think he'd wait four years to contact you. But then again, you didn't ask me, so... ignore that.

Anyway, check the email address again.
 

 Take care.
 

He pressed send, logged out, set the notebook on his nightstand and rolled over.

His first email of the next day was a surprise-- a response from Shannon. It read:

Subject: I'm a dork.
 

Hi, whoever you are. I'm sorry about the typo in the email address. I checked again and I got it wrong. I meant jsc080875 and I typed 76.
 

Sorry again to bother you. Have a nice day.
 

 Shannon

“See, now,” he told himself, “good for you, being a nice person.” And to top it off, he had 'things' to do! It would be a good day.

A week went by. And then another and another, of mostly the same day but some were different, and he forgot about Shannon and the misdirected emails until a few weeks later, when he got another email from her. The familiar address sat in his inbox and he tilted his head. Surely she wasn't dense enough to do this again? It read:

 Subject: Hi there
 

So I'm sitting here and I'm emailing with my friend, who DID, after four years, want to be friends with me again and I can't help but wonder who the hell I was emailing for a week?

I wanted to thank you for telling me I had the wrong email address. Jake thinks the story is funny-- and so does Saucy Rossy. :) 

Anyway, thanks. My friend and I are making amends. I appreciate you redirecting me.

Shannon

How nice of her, to send a followup. He tapped out a brief reply:

Subject: Re: Hi there
 

Good to know I was completely wrong. Cool that you and your friend reconnected; glad I had a hand in that.

Can I ask who the HELL is Saucy Rossy? And why does he let you call him that?

He wanted to sign it but didn't know what to sign. JC? No. Josh? Joshua? Joshua. “Joshua, it is,” he said to himself. He pressed send, then sat and stared at his screen, as if she would write back immediately. Realizing she wouldn't, he logged off, and went about his day.

It was the same day as always, but he didn't feel like it was such a drag, today. He was actually in a good mood. Maybe because he'd had sex the night before. He made a note to himself to ask that girl out again. She seemed like she actually understood what he was talking about-- when he could get a word in. Well...maybe he wouldn't ask her out again. She babbled nonstop about... makeup or something. He couldn't remember. And didn't care.

That night, there was a new email from Shannon. It read:
 

 Subject: Re: Re: Hi there
 

Haha. Saucy Rossy is a dog. : ) Four years ago he was a stupid, clueless puppy. Four years later, he's the same, just older. I also have a friend named Ross, who would not let me call him Saucy Rossy if it was my last day on Earth so... I totally get you on that.
 

I hope you had a terrific day.
 

Shannon

He laughed, and before he could stop himself, he pressed reply.
 

Subject: Of course
 

Of course, Saucy Rossy is a dog. Because, seriously, what human would let himself be called that and be able to hold his head up in public?
 

My day WAS terrific, thank you. I hope yours was, too.
 

Joshua

He deleted, sorted, checked and filed email. He really needed to get a junk mail filter. He already had Adobe Photoshop. He had no need for Cialis. He was fine with his long distance service and didn't have bad credit. Before he could log off, a faint 'ding' told him he had a new email. Well, well, well. Shannon was online. He opened her email and laughed so hard he almost tipped out of the bed. She'd attached a photo of an orange, fuzzy, goofy looking puppy. It was... well it was an ugly little thing but it looked like it had lots of character.

Subject: Re: Of course
 

I give you Saucy Rossy in all his puppy dog glory. Imagine that ugly thing, but fully grown. Gawd, if he wasn't so sweet he'd be disgusting. I wanted you to know what we were talking about.
 

If you actually cared, I'd describe the kind of day I had. Since you're some guy I errantly sent two emails to, I'll spare you and pretend my day was terrific so I can say,
 

My day was terrific, thanks. Have a terrific TOMORROW. Beat that!
 

Shannon

He HAD to reply. After all, she went through all the trouble of digging up a picture to send him.

Subject: Re: Re: Of course
 

That is the ugliest thing I've ever seen. Thanks for sharing. I love dogs, but seriously... that's ugly. What IS it?

Re: your day-- humor me.

I doubt tomorrow will be terrific, but I'll see what I can muster up, if you'll do the same.
 

Joshua

It took a few days. A few long, boring groundhog days of the same shit, different day, before he received a reply from Shannon. Seeing her name in his inbox excited him, for some reason. It was something different. Her response read:

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Of course
 

 Sorry. The internets took my email hostage and I just got this.

I don't know what it is. It's a mutt. Jake got him from the pound four years ago. We picked him out together. Well, Jake picked him and I didn't argue.

Re: my day? It's over. It's been over, and I don't really want to go backward and rehash it. It just wasn't terrific. The next day was, though, so thanks for that. And today topped yesterday, so all is well here.
 

Hope the same can be said for you!
 

Shannon.

He wonder how long they could do this before she decided he was weird, or the thing women said the most about him, that he was boring. He shrugged and typed back:

Subject: Where...
 

…is here? You said 'all is well here'. Just wondering where that is.
 

Today was boring. Yesterday was boring. Same day but different. I hate it. The day before that was pretty good, though. But I think it was because you sent me a picture of that ugly dog. :)
 

Joshua

He pressed send and waited. And waited and waited. And almost gave up before the 'ding' told him she'd replied:

Subject: Re: Where...
 

Here is Portland, Oregon. Where is here, for you?
 

If you're bored, you're boring. Someone said that to me, once. I almost punched her. I’ll show you boring!
 

Shannon

He laughed at her rapid-fire sense of humor. Mostly he liked that she didn't ramble on and on about nothing. Maybe because he didn't know her? And she didn't know him. He started to feel weird about writing to her. Why was he emailing some random woman in Oregon? Did he think she really cared about his boring life of days that were the same, every day? “Get a hold of yourself, man. Don't waste her time,” he told himself. So he didn't reply; instead, he logged off, closed the notebook, and rolled over.

Days and days and days went by. At first, he felt bad about just dropping the conversation. He was the one who'd kept it going, but he didn't have a reason, really, to keep talking to someone he met on accident.

She could be a serial killer. She could be gossip blogger posing as some random chick, reposting their emails to each other for people online to read and snicker at. He was paranoid enough to do a Google search and see if anything familiar popped up, but nothing except the multiple random mentions, snippets from message boards and fan sites. Those amused him. When he was feeling ugly and plain and talentless, there was nothing like lurking a message board to read about the girls that swooned over him and wanted to sleep with him and have his babies. That didn't even make sense, to him. “What would having my kid do for them? I don't get it,” he thought to himself.

Several weeks later, that familiar email address popped up in his mailbox. He was pleasantly surprised to hear from her. The guilt had faded and he'd filed her emails away. Out of sight, out of mind, and it worked. He hadn't thought of her in weeks, but now he had an email from her.

Subject: Was it something I said?
 

You DID ask me where ‘here’ was and I guess I just asked you because it seemed rude to not return the question. Or maybe your location is like, Top Secret and you'd tell me, but you'd have to kill me or something like that. I could understand that.

But something tells me your location isn't Top Secret and I somehow offended you, or even worse, bored you. Or maybe you just don't feel like talking to a random girl from Oregon.

Anyway, I thought I'd drop a line and say hey... to some random guy I don't know from ... somewhere. I guess maybe I understand, now why you didn't write back. This IS weird.

Have a terrific LIFE! : )

Shannon

Aw. Well he hadn't meant to make her feel all bad and stuff. “Don't be an asshole,” he told himself. He needed to fix this, if for nothing but karma.

Subject: Re: Was it something I said?
 

I'm sorry. I'm not bored by you. I'm boring. And I didn't feel I should inflict my boringness on you. I thought it was kind of creepy to be writing some woman I don't know and I didn't want to seem creepy, so I stopped writing. But I'll keep writing if you want me to. This IS weird but... whatever.

What else do I have to do?

Here is California. LA, to be exact.

No, YOU have a terrific life!

Joshua

He pressed send, and instead of logging out, and making coffee, and talking to Tyler, and sitting in the studio pressing buttons and working on music no one would hear, ever, he sat there. And waited. He turned on the TV and watched CNN. Flipped through some shows on the DVR. Watched an episode of Saved by the Bell. And just when he was thoroughly bored and thought he should get out of bed, he got an email.

Subject: Wherefore Are Thou?
 

You don't have to keep writing. It's just that when Jake emails me, sometimes I think it's you and then when it's Jake, I'm kind of disappointed, for minute. That's sad. And it's an insult to Jake. But it's true.
 

You're not boring. Misunderstood, perhaps?

Please tell me you're a screenwriter sitting at Starbucks in your trendy shades with your tiny laptop tap-tap-tapping away at your Golden Globe-worthy quirky sitcom treatment about two people who met by accident and don't know each other but randomly email and discuss pictures of an ugly dog. Please.
 

I intend to have the most terrific life ever. So there. Thank you.

Shannon

See, if he had gone about his usual day, he wouldn't have laughed this hard until much later... and he really needed that laugh right now. He hadn't planned any 'things' to do today. He wanted to see a movie but didn't have enough interest to actually get up and go. Instead, he ordered some stupid thing from On Demand and pretended to watch it while replying to Shannon.

Subject: Re: Wherefore Are Thou?
 

I wear trendy shades, but I swear it's just to keep the sun out of my eyes, not to be pretentious. Promise. And I hate Starbucks. Well, I don't hate Starbucks... but for the very reason you named-- pretentious people in there with their laptops tapping away like people need to see them working-- I don't go there. I'm not all anti Starbucks or anything, I just don't go there.
 

So what's in Portland? Seriously, what's in Portland? I think I went there once, but it was a long time ago. I don't remember much.
 

That is sad about mixing up my email with Jake's... but truthfully I get a little happy when I see I have an email from this random chick in Oregon so... if you keep writing, I will.
 

Is there a state of being between excited and bored out of your fucking mind?
 

Joshua

He willed himself to log off. Tyler would send a search party soon if he didn't make an appearance... he hadn't even made any coffee.

He tried to have the same day as always, but he couldn't concentrate on anything. His mind was on his email, wondering if she'd written back. But if he went back up there and logged in, and she hadn't written back, he'd feel like a loser. He fought with himself and tried to keep busy. He made a batch of cookies, but burned them when he wasn't paying attention. The second batch turned out better. They were great with a big mug of coffee with lots of cream. He wanted Tyler to sit and talk to him, but he had a date and couldn't hang out. Tyler had a life to lead. Tyler woke up excited and went to bed excited and was an exciting person. He was boring.

Sometimes he wished he was little bit like Tyler.

He decided avoiding his email was stupid, and went back upstairs and logged in. Waiting for his slow slow SLOW wireless network to connect was torture, but he was rewarded with several new emails. One from his mom and one from Shannon. He'd read the one from his mom later.

Subject: Portland, Oregon
 

What's in Portland? My friend, if you'd ever been here you'd remember. It's nice up here.  It's green.   It's pretty and quiet. It doesn't get very hot and doesn't get very cold. Lots of outdoorsy things to do. And it's cheap, I guess. I attached a picture of the view from my back porch. Pretty amazing, if I say so myself.
 

Ok, that's not the view from my back porch. I don't even have a back porch. The view behind my apartment is an auto parts store. I could probably get a picture of a guy freebasing crack back there, if you're interested. Maybe a hooker or two.
 

Is it bad that you have the same reaction to seeing my name in your inbox as I have about seeing yours? Yes?
 

By the way...The state between excited and bored out of your fucking mind is called Normal.

Welcome to it.
 

So what's in LA? I'm being nosy. Are you in “the business”?
 

I'm here for awhile; I have a long, boring project to put together so... write away if you want.
 

Shannon

She'd attached a pretty photo of an Evergreen forest that had downtown Portland as a backdrop. It looked  peaceful, like the kind of place he could retire to when he tired of the world and people and  the routine and business. He remembered Portland, vaguely from concert tours, but they never got to really 'see' cities they traveled, so though he was sure he'd been there, he really wouldn't remember. 

Subject: Re: Portland, Oregon
 

I think I will pass on the hookers and the crack. Nice uhm... backyard there. Yeah I sort of remember passing through Portland.
 

I'm 'in the business' but in the background. Sometimes I like it, sometimes it sucks. Today it's not so bad. Maybe because I have these interesting emails to look forward to.
 

When you say long, boring project to put together, what exactly are you putting together?
 

Would you like a cookie? I only burnt the shit out of them.
 

Joshua

He pressed send and sipped coffee and waited for her to write back. She expressly said she'd be there for awhile. He expected a reply sooner rather than later. He read the email from his mom while he waited. They were coming out to visit in a few weeks. He replied to ask her to bring him some socks. Moms needed to feel useful --and he knew she’d bring more than socks. Shannon replied a few minutes later.

Subject: My damn job
 

My long boring project is a website I've been asked to put together. I design web pages. This site has too many pages, but it's what the client wants and what they're paying for. So I'm doing it, and they better darn appreciate it.
 

Sometimes I like it, sometimes it sucks. The not terrific day I had? That was a day that sucked. It's pretty cool, though, since I can work whenever I want and I work from home. Except that right now I don't want to be working on this because it's boring, but I have to, because it's due in a couple of days.
 

Thanks for the cookie offer. Please save me the least burnt one.
 

Shannon

A web designer. That meant she was smart and creative. He dug smart and creative chicks.

Subject: Re: My damn job
 

Interesting work. I like creative people. They think differently than your average person. Have you done any sites I’ve seen?

Lucky that you can work when you want, from wherever you want, doing work you like to do though, right? After this boring project is over, you have other more exciting ones to look forward to, I hope… or is it all boring these days?

I am in the same situation. I do what I want, when I want, from home. Just… some days the stuff I have to do is boring. Some days I kind of wish I did something else but at this point I can’t imagine doing anything else. I guess I’m meant for it?

Can I ask who Jake is, or am I being too nosy?

Did I mention I burnt the SHIT out of the cookies?
 

Joshua

Subject: Jake
 

I do mostly local and PacNW stuff (Pacific Northwest)… so I doubt you’ve seen any sites I’ve done but when I’m not feeling self conscious I’ll forward a few links to you. I do really enjoy it though. Some people paint, some people sculpt, I design web sites.

Jake is sort of a long story. We started out as roommates. Then became friends. Then we became friends with benefits. Jake sort of wanted to commit. I sort of didn’t. I met a new guy. Really, just seeing him, nothing special. Jake freaked out, said if I slept with him he was out. He was making things complicated-- we were just sort of there for each other, and suddenly he was all... suffocating me.  I thought it would be easier if he just went ahead and stepped out, and then I didn’t have to push him out. I let him think I slept with this guy—Jake assumed it, I just didn’t correct him.

He kept his word. He moved out and other than the occasional relayed message, I never heard from him. I saw his mom at Walgreen's late one night, on a quest for Nyquil. She said he still talked about me all the time and gave me his email address. She told me to drop him a line—so I did. Only I got you instead.

Jake has three first names—Jacob Steven Christopher. He hated his parents for doing that to him so we called him JC. I’m guessing you have the same initials, looking at your email address. And your birthday is 8/8/76?

Did I answer your question? I’m probably going to have to pass on the cookies. They sound pretty bad. But it’s awesome that you baked some. What kind?

Shannon

He shook his head and sipped his coffee, contemplating his next email. Unlike him, she wasn’t averse to answering questions—which could work to his favor. Not only was he bored with his everyday routine but he found someone interesting to talk to.

Subject: Re: Jake

Isn’t the whole point of a fuck buddy that there is no commitment? What kind of guy throws a tantrum because a fuck buddy is buddies with someone else?

Same initials and yes, that is my birthday.

Walnut chocolate chip are what I burnt. Then I made sugar cookies because those are easier. My brother ate all of those, though. 

Joshua

Subject: Re: re: Jake

Now you understand my position. He just… freaked out on me and I couldn’t take it so... I kind of let him take a dive. And then later when I tried to clear it up and salvage the ‘buddy’ we had before the … well the ‘fuck’… he wouldn’t listen. I gave up and then four years went by.

Are all you guys like this?

Shannon

He literally laughed out loud. He was LIVING Groundhog day. How was he supposed to answer that?

Subject: Re: re: re: Jake

I wish I could say no, but if you mean ‘crazy’, then yes. Sometimes we don’t want something until we’re faced with the possibility that we can’t have it. Then we want it more than anything. Then when we get it, we kind of don’t want it anymore, until it’s gone again.

Aren’t girls the same way?

So how did you get Jake to talk to you again, after four years?

Joshua

Subject: Girls are NOT crazy

Men just don’t understand us. : )

Jake just didn’t care anymore. He met someone a couple years ago and they’re going strong. He was writing a lot when we first reconnected. Now, not so much. I think he feels guilty because of his girlfriend.

What does ‘in the background’ mean? I can’t help it, I’m nosy, dammit.

Shannon

Subject: Re: Girls are NOT crazy

Girls are crazy. Girls just don’t think they’re crazy.

I see, so since Jake isn't writing, you want me to write you? I'm just kidding, in case you can't tell.

“In the background” means I write, nosy dammit.

Do you really live near where people freebase crack and hookers do their business?

Joshua

Not that he really needed to know. He was just curious. And the more she talked the less she asked about him. He wanted to deflect attention as long as possible. He figured she’d get bored before he had to come clean. It was dark outside. He’d really, seriously spent most of the day up in his room, sending emails back and forth to a woman he didn’t know, had never met, but amused him so much that he was actually having fun. Maybe didn’t need to meet someone exciting. Just someone interesting that understood what he was talking about and could hold a conversation.

Subject: I’m a bad liar

No, I don’t really live near crack smokers and hookers. I live in a pretty okay neighborhood, actually. There is an auto parts store down the street, though and I did see a hooker-like lady hanging out around there a lot. That's the most excitement we ever see around these parts.

I’m just curious—did you write anything I’ve seen?

Shannon

He could safely answer this question and not feel like he was lying or being evasive—which he would actually feel bad about—but he was running out of clever ways to avoid really answering the question.

Subject: Re: I’m a bad liar

I doubt I’ve written anything you’ve seen.

How goes the project?

Joshua

Subject: Re: Re: I’m a bad liar

The project is actually almost done. I should be able to finish it up in a few hours. Thank you for your distraction.

But now I have to run some things over to my grandma, and she likes to talk. I’m afraid I won’t be back for awhile. This makes me sad because I’ve enjoyed our little discussion, today.

I hope it won’t be the last. Please have a terrific evening!

Shannon

He shouldn’t really feel disappointed because a random woman he didn’t know and had never met couldn’t send him nosy questions he couldn’t answer. He really shouldn’t. But he kind of did. In the past few months she’d been one of the few bright and exciting spots. The ripple in the calm serene flow that was his life. He finished his cold coffee and stared at the TV, not really watching it, but not wanting to turn it off. He needed sound… voices… company. The TV made him feel less alone.

Sometimes the silence was deafening.

You've Got Mail Pt 2

And so it went that the only change to his routine, the days that were like all the others, is that he usually exchanged a few emails with Shannon everyday. Sometime during the night she sent him an email that would be waiting for him in the morning-- a random question, a general musing, a deep thought. He would reply and answer or commiserate, or provide a deep thought of his own.

To say her emails brightened his days would be an understatement. He found himself inventing more 'things' to do because being busy would take up more time and make the days go faster and bring the evening, when he could check his email and see what funny picture or saying or thought-- or laugh-- provoking thing she'd sent him. If there was no email waiting for him, the day  didn't seem to go right. She was apart of his day, his routine, his everyday.  Inasmuch as the routine was boring and irritating, it was also comforting. It gave him purpose. It kept him moving and not stagnating on the couch, watching Nick at Night reruns and getting fat.
 

Subject: If you could change the world...

Or change your name... what would you change it to?

Shannon
 

He'd been two initials for so long that people forgot he actually had a name. No one called him by his name but his family—it was weird to hear his family call him 'JC', so they'd stuck to calling him 'Josh' like they always had. He liked it-- it helped him keep a grip on reality and remember who he really was. It was easy to get caught up in what other people thought he was, and treated him as.  Sometimes he sort of felt like the initials defined him. They were the reason he could live his life the way he did. The same day, everyday.

Subject: Re: If you could change the world...

Or change my name? Hummmm. Yeah, I don't know. I have this... nickname. Like Jake, I go by initials sometimes. It's been so long since anyone called me by my given name besides my family, that if I could change my name I'd go back to my actual, real name.

It's more... normal. That doesn't make sense to you, but it does, to me.

What about you? I kind of can't imagine you with any other name but Shannon, now.

Joshua

Subject: Re: Re: If you could change the world...

So no one actually calls you Joshua? I like that name... I can't imagine calling you anything else either.

I've always wanted an exotic name-- something Italian or French or... southern. Ha! Like Virginia. Or something elegant, like Elise. But I sort of look like a Shannon, I guess. And I like my name, too. Maybe I'm just used to it.

Shannon
 

She looked like a Shannon? What does a Shannon look like? Was she hinting that she wanted him to know what she looked like? He couldn't get into that-- she'd want to know what he looked like and then the jig would be up. And he didn't quite want the jig to be up-- so he didn't take the bait. He wanted to know, but he sort of already had a picture in his head of what she looked like and didn't really want to ruin it. She could be, like, 300 lbs with a beard. Or 67 lbs with sunken eyes and stringy hair. Or totally gorgeous, in which case he'd want to know what was wrong with her because... totally gorgeous chicks don't have time to email random men in LA two or three times a day about mundane things like name changes. So no, he wouldn't ask her what she looked like. But he wanted to know.
 

Subject: Have you ever?

• Been arrested?

• Been in a fight?

• Had a DejaVu experience?

• Talked to a famous person?

• Seen a tornado

• Milked a cow?

• Shot a gun?

• Asked a woman when she was due and she wasn't pregnant?
   

I'm nosy, again. 

Shannon

Subject: Re: Have you ever?

You're pretty nosy. Let's see, here.

• Been arrested? – No. I'm a good boy.

• Been in a fight?- No, I'm a good boy. Wow, I'm boring.

• Had a DejaVu experience?- Sometimes my whole life is deja vu. Like, everyday, I do the same things. See the same people. Go the same places.

• Talked to a famous person?- This is LA. Everyone's famous.

• Seen a tornado- Not in person. They're cool though. I like the Weather channel, storm stories, and like Discovery Channel, stuff like that. They sometimes show hurricanes and tornado stuff. I'm sort of a science geek- I like that stuff.

• Milked a cow?- Ha! I don't think so. You'd think I'd remember that.

• Shot a gun?- I hate guns. I'm not really into them at all-- I'm a really peaceful person.

• Asked a woman when she was due and she wasn't pregnant? - I try to steer clear of that. There are way too many ways to insult a woman these days. We men just keep our mouths shut, or we'll say the wrong thing.

   

It's your turn-- tell me your secrets and don't tell me lies. 

Joshua.

 

Subject: Re: Re: Have you ever? 

• Been arrested?- Uhmmmmmmm. blush*

• Been in a fight?- Yeah that's how I got arrested. The charges were dropped.

• Had a DejaVu experience? All the time. It seems like everyday I do something I feel like I've done before.

• Talked to a famous person?- I've never met anyone famous. I'm dying to, though. Just to see what would happen-- like if I would freak out, or act normal. I think I would freak out.

• Seen a tornado? - Yeah I've seen one, in person. It was pretty far off... freaky. I couldn't take my eyes off of it. One of those things that's so beautiful but so dangerous. Because of that, I'm a total Tornado freak. I watch everything on TV about tornadoes. I own every movie about tornadoes. I love the Weather Channel. :)

• Milked a cow? Yes. She kicked me, so never again.

• Shot a gun?- No. I'm scared of guns. My mom thinks I should have one, since I live alone. I think I'd shoot myself before I'd shoot anyone else.

• Asked a woman when she was due and she wasn't pregnant- No! I agree there are too many ways to insult women.
  
  
  
  I don't have any secrets... I don't tell lies! How was your day?
  
  Shannon
  
   

Subject: Deja Vu

It was the same as yesterday. I just answered a different email.

Yours?

Joshua

Subject: Re: Deja Vu

The same. That's what I meant when I said that. I feel like every day is a day I've lived before.

We're quite a pair, aren't we?
 

Shannon

Subject: Re: Re: Deja Vu

Pair of what? : )

Joshua

Subject: Re: Re:Re: Deja Vu

Goofy kids. It's late. Why aren't you out painting the town red, or something? '

Aren't there millions of things to do there?
 

Shannon

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Deja Vu

 

I could ask you the same question.


Joshua
 

It was a valid question, really. He just didn't feel like answering it. He didn't feel like telling her that his social life was lived through email. That there wasn't anyone in his actual life that compared to her-- his... friend???-- that lived inside his email inbox. That a fun Saturday night was exchanging funny jokes with her till 2 am and then checking his email again at 11 the next morning. She was a habit, and one that he didn't mind developing or maintaining but could be damaging if he let it go too far. 

One day, as was bound to happen eventually, he awoke to no email from Shannon. From time to time Shannon missed a day, or got caught up in something and they didn't email, but it always picked up in a  few hours or the next day. That night, however,  there was no email... and he didn't sleep well. The next day, still no word from her and by nightfall, he got tired of checking and rechecking.  He didn't know if he should worry, or just accept his fate, that the same thing that always happened with women had happened with her-- that he was unwilling to open up to her, and he wouldn't tell her anything about himself so she was bored with him and moved on. It was yet another thing that happened the same way, every time. He really couldn't help it... he just wasn't the type to lose his mind over a girl. 

Shannon... was different, though. She was a friend. And there was a pattern to her. She was the part of his day that he enjoyed the most. When they missed a day or two, he felt off-kilter and out of sorts.  They hadn't missed a day in weeks. Yet here it was, day three, and he hadn't heard a peep.
 

Subject: Should I send a search party?

Hi. I haven't heard from you in days. I hope it's OK to send this.

If we're done, that's cool.

If I made you mad, let me know.

If you're OK but you don't want to talk just tell me you're fine so I can stop thinking of you being trapped under something heavy in your apartment down the street from where people might possibly freebase crack.

Ok? I'm not being smothery. Just caring.

Joshua
 

A day went by. And then two. A few more long, boring, routine filled days in which he missed her. Terribly. More than he wanted to and more that he would admit to, if asked, but missed her nonetheless. He'd talked to her more than he'd talked to anyone lately and he missed his friend.

And then, suddenly, in the middle of a long boring day in which he hadn't even had the energy, desire, or interest in getting out of bed... an email came.
 

Subject: I'm OK. 

I'm so sorry, Joshua.  I shouldn't have disappeared. It's a long story,  but I'm back. And I won't disappear again – at least I don't plan to. 

Again... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you worry. 

Speaking of being trapped under something heavy, I got a dog. : ) He's an English Bulldog. He weighs like 60 lbs. He's gorgeous. I love him. His name is Bruno. 
 

Shannon
 

A sigh of relief escaped him. It came from way deep down in his chest, from his heart. She was OK. And she wasn't going away again. It embarrassed him how much a simple email meant to him, but he didn't want to investigate that feeling, for fear it would make him want to fix it. He was enjoying this, having a friend who had no clue who he was. Who wouldn't pull on him to do favors for her. Who wouldn't treat him like someone special or famous or different. He was random guy from LA, to her and he liked that. He wanted to stay random guy as long as possible.
 

Subject: Re: I'm OK. 

It just so happens I'm in the mood for a long story.

I'm happy you're back.
 

Do I get to see Bruno? I applaud the nice name for the dog. Saucy Rossy was just... I can't even type that anymore. 
 

Joshua
 

A  new email arrived. Attached was a photo of a rather large dog, caramel in color with white legs and feet and underbelly, a dark snout and beady eyes. She was right, he was gorgeous. He reached out and touched the screen, as if he could pet him. He smiled at the candid, the dog sitting in what must have been her kitchen, from the tile floor and brown cabinets. In the corner of the photo, he saw a frame on the counter. If he could enlarge it, he could see the picture... he wondered if it was her. Maybe he could see Shannon without asking her to send him a picture, and her asking for one in return. The minute she saw him, it would be over. And he didn't want that, quite yet.
 

Subject: Bruno 

Meet Bruno. He says hi. He's super super sweet. And huge. Like 60 lbs. He likes to lay on my feet. He's under my computer desk right now. Laying on my feet. If I'm sitting on the couch, he lays on the floor, on my feet. If I'm LAYING on the couch, he climbs up and lays... on my feet. In bed...on my feet. It's really sweet... and kind of annoying... but mostly sweet. 

So the long story.

You got me in trouble. : ) Remember the guy I was dating? The science teacher from Corvallis?

He surprised me by just driving up one night last week. Since I work at all hours, I like to know when he's coming, so I can finish things up early and have time to spend with him. Right? So when he shows out of the blue, I'm irritated. But not because I have work to do, but because I was emailing you and he interrupted. 

So he's wondering why I'm a bitch, and I'm not answering and I go back to work. And I flip from the email screen, and he comes up behind me and flips back and before I can stop him he sees the many... MANY emails from you.

I guess I could have lied and said they were from Jake, but they weren't. And he doesn't know Jake, and I wouldn't tell him I was emailing an old fuck buddy. He was jealous and very upset, because I email you more than I email him, and he basically gave me an ultimatum.

And stupidly, I agreed to it because I thought maybe I could have been keeping myself from something good, with someone good, and I didn't want anything-- even a random friendship with a guy I met on accident-- to get in the way of that.

I was miserable, though. I missed my friend. I missed our daily chat about nothing and somehow everything.  He got creepy, like calling me all the time and following up on me and trying to hack my email, to see if I was still emailing you.

Eventually, I just couldn't take it. He's made so many demands in the last year that he makes dating him such a chore. And no one tells me who I can and can't talk to.  It's not my fault you're insecure, you know? I could not give a shit who he's emailing with. It's not worth worrying and being unhappy... I'm young and if I'm in love, everyday should be happy—or at least most of them. Right? 

So, I broke up with him. And then I was embarrassed to start emailing you again... because I guess I didn't really want to admit that talking to some random guy made me happier than being with my boyfriend. Instead of being ecstatic to see a man I hadn't seen in three weeks, I was irritated that he'd interrupted our daily meaningless (yet meant the world to me) question and answer session.

That should have been a clue, I guess. 

Then I logged in and I saw your email and... this is dumb, but... it made me ridiculously happy, to see your name in my inbox.  I'm embarrassed about how happy it made me to see it. I guess I thought you would  just get used to not talking anymore, and l I'd never hear from you again.  But really, as embarrassing as it is, I don't care. I'm happy we're talking again. And I'm sorry I disappeared. And I'm not gonna do that again.


So how have you been?


Shannon
 

Ridiculously happy. Embarrassed at the happy. He knew that feeling very well.
 

Subject : Re: Bruno

That was a long story. That guy is an ass. I'm glad you're rid of him. He doesn't  deserve you, and I'm not just saying that.

It sounds like it had a happy ending for you though, and that you're better without him. At least I hope you're not just putting on a good front.

I've been OK. Honestly, I was worried when I didn't hear from you, and I wasn't doing too well because of it. But now that I know you're fine, I'm fine. And things are good over here.

Bruno is beautiful. And huge. What made you get a dog?

Joshua
 

He sent the email and flipped back to the picture. He enlarged and then enlarged and then enlarged again, centering on the photo on the counter in what appeared to be her kitchen. It came up blurry and pixelated, but he could make out a woman that looked rather normal. She had straight brown hair that looked kind of long, and in the picture, she was laughing, so her eyes were all squinted up, sort of like his got when he smiled big. And she was smiling big. A big, beautiful, laughing smile of straight white teeth. He smiled at the picture, like she was smiling at him. Laughing with him. He wished he could know for sure, but he had a feeling the woman in the photo was Shannon. She was beautiful.
 

Subject: Re: Re: Bruno 
 

I guess I was just lonely. Needed something to take care of. I'm totally glad I got him, though. We always had dogs growing up, but I haven't had a dog since... well since Rossy.  

Thank you for being worried. That warms my heart. : )

So are you ever going to tell me what you write? 
 

Shannon
 

He read her email and sighed with frustration. If only she knew what answering that question would lead to. He could only keep himself and his job and his... life... a secret for so long.  
 

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Bruno

I write music. I've done some stuff for soundtracks and I write for music artists-- mostly new artists and people who kind of fly under the radar. Nothing too big of a deal.

I've also had a couple of bit parts in TV shows. Guy #1, stuff like that. Doubt you've seen them and before you ask-- I won't tell you which ones. :) I consider them my practice, and people digging that old stuff up creeps me out. When I'm not feeling self conscious, I'll send you some samples. I'm pretty self conscious, though.

Joshua
 

He struggled with whether or not to press send. He didn't want to lie and it seemed rude to be so vague and he definitely wasn't going to give her clues to find out who he was-- but he didn't want to chase her away, either. It was a delicate balance he had to strike-- give her enough information that she wasn't bored but not enough that she could find out too much, too soon. Eventually he would have to either tell her everything... or stop talking to her. The latter didn't seem like an option. Not right now. He depended on her daily contact a little too much. He pressed send and hoped for the best.
 

Subject: No worries

I won't pry. You seem to be very protective and I respect that. I won't dig anymore... I'm sorry.

You feel free to tell me whatever you feel comfortable telling me. I won't hold it against you.

But I think what you do is cool.


Shannon

She thought what he did was cool. That made him smile. And it made going through his day... his average, 'everyday the same as the day before' day... not so bad. And recently, his days weren't so much the same. When he could raise his head above the droll mundane...everyday-ness of his everyday, he could see other opportunities on the horizons. Reasons to leave the house. Reasons to do something else. Reasons to get excited. 

That was something he hadn't felt in awhile. Excitement. Something completely different. Something he wasn't used to. Something that was old, but new. And something, he thought, that Shannon brought out in him. He couldn't explain it but... something about her and their daily conversations and her joyful demeanor showed him life didn't have to be the same day, everyday. The same droll groundhog day almost didn't exist anymore. On occasion, he had the same day he always had, but his new routine was... not a routine.

He was happy more often. He smiled more often. He laughed a lot.
 

Subject: I was almost in Star Wars 

But I got cut. That's your 'strange trivia about me' for the day. 

How are you? Sorry I've been MIA today. I didn't mean to disappear. I just... have been trying to get rid of that deja vu thing, where I have the same day, everyday. I can't do that anymore. It's killing me.

More Bruno pictures, please. 

Joshua

Subject: Re: I was almost in Star Wars 

You were NOT almost in Star Wars. I don't believe you one bit. ; )

I've been good. Really good. I got a fun, really fun new project so I've been digging into it hard. I meant to write, I just... kept getting side tracked.

I took Bruno camping last weekend and we took some cool pictures. As soon as I upload them I'll send you some.

So. I'm nosy. What do you look like? You don't have to send me pictures. Just. Tell me. So I can see if the picture of you I have in mind is close. 

Shannon
 

He was definitely getting close to having to tell her something he didn't want to but might have to. He couldn't deal with not being able to talk to her. But he didn't want her to know who he was. The minute she knew, she would change. How they talked and what they talked about and how she talked to him would change. She would become like all the other girls he talked to, girls he asked out, not because he liked them but because they were a warm body and someone to talk to, but they obviously weren't there to talk. He didn't want her to become just a warm body. He wanted her to stay his friend.

Subject: Picture Rick Astley with dark brown hair 
 

And you get me. Blue eyes. They disappear when I smile. Big nose. Chipmunk teeth. I'm laughing at my description of myself. I sound... unfortunate looking. 

And I was almost in Star Wars. I was Wookie #7. You'll never know, because it got cut.

And you? 
 

Joshua 

Subject: Re: Picture Rick Astley with dark brown hair 
 

Rick Astley? Rick 'I have the voice of Barry White and the face of Howdy Doody' Astley? 

'Never gonna give never gonna give, give you up' Rick Astley?

Seriously. Rick Astley? You're joking with me, Joshua.

What do you think I look like?

I sent some photos of Bruno. He's absolutely the love of my life, right now.

Shannon
 

He didn't see what was so funny about looking like Rick Astley. It wasn't an exact match but it was the closest he could think of. What did he think she looked like? He grinned and started typing.

Subject: The picture in my head 
 

I think you're probably a blond. No, a redhead. Yeah a redhead. About uhm... yeah I dunno about six feet tall. 

I won't say how much I think you weigh, but even if you're rail thin, you probably think you're fat. You're probably not, but nothing anyone else says will convince you that you're not.

I think you have big, wide feet. And football helmet hair. Like Sally Field hair.

And long, thin, piano playing fingers. And you wear acrylic nails. And in the winter, you wear those big gaudy reindeer sweaters. And jingle bell earrings.

Am I close? : )
 
 

Joshua
  

Subject: Please burn that picture in your head 
 

If you're not gonna take this seriously, I'm not gonna play...

I'm not a blond, or a redhead. I have brown hair. In the summer, I get blond highlights though. I have brown eyes. Dark brown. Plain brown.

My eyes do that disappear thing, too. When I laugh really big. My mom's eyes do that. 

I'm not six feet tall. 5'7”. And I don't have big feet. And I don't think I'm fat. In about ten years I'll be all about low fat this and low cholesterol that and not using butter or margarine and not eating cheese.. but for now I'm pretty happy with how I look. 

I do not wear whimsy. My aunt does, though.  Meanie. : )
 

Shannon 

PS. The third picture attached is me and Bruno

 

His heart pounded as he opened the attachments. Bruno was a giant, beautiful animal. His face held so much character and personality. He seemed to fit her. Well his idea of her, anyway. He left the third picture for last. He almost didn't want to open it. It would ruin the idea of her that he had in his head. What if she wasn't the girl in the picture with the big smile? He clicked the attachment and closed his eyes while it loaded. A few seconds later his eyes opened and a slow grin spread across his face. 

It was her. But clear. Not pixelated and not blurry and not a creepy enlargement of a photo he wasn't meant to see. It was a sunny day. She was in the middle of a forest, deep green everywhere, at a campsite, in front of an indigo blue two man tent. Bruno sat next to her, looking bored. She looked exquisite. 

Well, not glamorous or fancy. Normal.  Jeans and hiking boots and a long sleeve t-shirt under a fleece pullover normal. Everyday girl from the northwest normal.  Long, brown, silky (looked silky to him) hair, one side tucked behind an ear, the other framing her face. She had an oval face. A pretty, oval face. And nice, pretty skin. Glowy skin. She was smiling, just a small, casual smile. Her lips were full and plump and had a nice natural pink color to them. They had a cupid's bow, the kind he loved to –WHOA. Down boy. STOP.

He closed the attachment, but not before saving it and went back to his email. Smiling, he typed out a short note to her.

 

Subject: You 
 

Are beautiful. Really beautiful.  I mean that. 

When I'm not so self conscious, I'll send you a picture of me. 

Joshua

Why. Why did he offer that? WHY? 
 

Subject: Me? 

Thank you. I wasn't fishing, really. But thank you. 

Take your time, with the picture. I know you don't want to send it and I won't push you to. 

Have you ever, like... thought about what your life would be like if you did just one thing differently? Like, if you did something else for a living or lived a different life?

Shannon

Just about everyday for the last... lifetime. But recently, he'd come to peace with the fact that this was the life he led. It was a life he chose. And, well, the life chose him. He didn't get into this on his own.. some of it was his mom, and some of it was Justin and some of it was Joey and then after it got started, it sort of snowballed-- well, it took hard work and rough living but still. It was inevitable. But he was where he was because of the life he chose, and he couldn't go back and un-live it... so he just had to deal. And whatever he did going forward, he had to be happy with.
 

Subject: Re: Me? 

Thanks for your patience.

Have I ever thought about living a different life? All the time. When I was younger, I wanted to be an architect. Did I tell you that?

I like art. Artistic expression, in any form. And construction and design is like a big huge art project. How it comes together. Stuff like that. I like that.

I like to think if I wasn't doing this I'd have gone to architecture school and I'd be like some really 'out there' building designer.

Joshua
 

Subject: Out there... 

See, and then you'd have a reason to wear those pretentiously expensive shades. Not plain shades, COLORED shades. Like blue or green or yellow. And you could put on this fake British-- no, FRENCH accent. And be very hard to work with and full of yourself. 

I can see it. ; ) 

I'm glad you're you, though. And do what you do. Because we'd never have met, probably, if you were some famous architect with a fake French accent and pretentious shades. 

I try to think about what my life would be like. I mean, I can't imagine myself in another job-- I love this way too much.  But what if I hadn't have chased Jake off? Would we have committed to each other and fallen in love and got married? 

He's getting married. Jake is getting married.

And I don't know how I feel about it. He wrote me, last week, for the first time in months, to tell me. He said he hadn't been writing because his girlfriend, now fiancée, didn't like it. But wanted to invite me to the wedding. 

I'm not getting all schmaltzy. It just got me thinking about what my life would be like if I were her instead of... me.

But then, I'd have never met you. :) And I'd have never met Bruno. And right now, those are the two things that make me happy. Really happy.
 

Shannon
 

He read her email several times, he just didn't know what to say back.  It wasn't that he was afraid. It was a good thing to hear. Or read.  Just... he felt like a fraud.

She'd opened herself up to him completely and shared so much of herself with him. Because she could, without being afraid. And he hadn't shared much of himself. She didn't push him to, but he didn't know how long she would stay so patient. He longed, now, to be real with her. To not have to hide. To not have to be careful what he said and what he talked about. To not have to worry about not giving clues. The time he once dreaded was now inevitable. He couldn't get to know her-- and let her get to know him-- until she knew who he was.

You've got Mail

Ch. 3

Tyler found out by accident, and then it was an avalanche of people asking 'who's Shannon?' It wasn't that he was ashamed of having met her, he just wanted to keep her to himself. She was HIS friend... like an interactive journal. Sometimes she was so much therapy for him. If his day sucked, he sent her an email that just said 'my day sucked'. In return he got a funny story or a funny picture or just a knowing 'I'm sorry, friend. I hope tomorrow is better.' He didn't want to share what they talked about, or how often they talked, with anyone. No one was supposed to know about her. He didn't want to share her.

It was his fault, really. He'd got so used to talking to her throughout the day that he'd drag the notebook downstairs with him in the morning. While he drank his coffee and read the news online--New York Times and USA Today and MSNBC and CNN-- he read and wrote emails. He got so used to it that one day he left his notebook downstairs, on the coffee table, and left for the day, a day that was no longer a routine. While he was gone, Tyler came home and decided to use the notebook to check his email. Since they used the same service, Tyler would have to log him out before he could log in. And that's when he discovered HUNDREDS of email from shannon.brinkley. Hundreds. Which didn't seem odd, at first until he scanned the subject titles and figured out that his brother had a secret. He didn't pry, he didn't open any of them-- he'd never violate Josh's privacy like that-- but he made a note to ask 'who's Shannon?' He just hadn't meant to ask Josh in a room full of people.

When Tyler blurted out 'hey Josh, who's Shannon?' he didn't know Josh wasn't alone. He didn't know he was actually having friends over, and actually talking to people and actually being social. Lance glanced at him, confused. He and JC were practically best friends, these days-- had been since they met 15 years ago-- he'd never heard of a Shannon. The room was silent. Everyone was staring. He didn't know what to say, so he told the truth-- she was a girl he met on accident when she sent an email to him, meant for someone else. Except they didn't stop talking when he told her she'd made a mistake... and here they were months and months, nearly a year later and they were still talking.

“Are you gonna meet her?”

“What's she look like?”

“Where does she live?”

“Does she know who you are?”

The only question he felt comfortable answering was the last one. She didn't know... but he was close to telling her. He asked their advice-- should he tell her?

“Definitely. At this point, you're pretty much lying,” said Lance

“No. No. No. Just... dude, just leave it like it is. It's not like you're gonna know her the rest of your life,” said Shawn.

“I don't know. I want cookies,” said Tyler.

He was losing sleep over this dilemma. He didn't want things to change. But a part of him felt like Lance was right... at this point hiding who he really was and what he really did amounted to lying. On the other hand, Shawn was right. Was she going to be in his life forever? Did she really have to know?

What this boiled down to was what he really wanted out of what they had. Was she someone he thought he'd know for awhile and eventually they'd grow apart? Or did he think he'd always know her? Always talk to her? Because if he'd always know her and always talk to her, it was about time she really knew what was up. He was running out of ways to hide it.

He didn't think he was afraid, anymore, that she would change. She seemed pretty constant, day to day, week to week, month to month. It's hard to be disingenuous for a long period of time-- and as long as he'd 'known' her, she seemed pretty real. If she was feeling bitchy, she said so. If she was pissed at something he said, she let him know and they worked it out. If she was feeling schmaltzy-- that's what she called it when she was all 'you mean a lot to me' -- she just let it flow. She seemed comfortable in her skin and he envied that.

Subject: Famous People

So, from time to time I meet a celebrity. Some of them are pretty cool. You mentioned that you hadn't. So, if you could meet one, who would it be? What would you do? What would you talk about, if you could, like... have lunch with them or something?

Joshua

Subject: Re:Famous People

I'd have lunch with a ton of people!

Tom Hanks- I love. Oh, have you ever seen that movie, 'You've Got Mail'? With him and Meg Ryan? That movie reminds me of us. These two people become friends through email. And there's other stuff, but the email thing is awesome. It's a cute movie.

I would love to lunch with Kanye West, just to listen to him talk about himself. I find him amusing, and I like his music.

I would have breakfast, lunch, and dinner with Kathy Griffin. People say she's mean, and I know that's supposed to be a bad thing but I just love her frank attitude and her 'I don't give a shit' way of living life. Sometimes I give too much of a shit. I wish I was more outspoken like her.

Tons of others, none really jump to mind, though. I liked that show 'Politically Incorrect', where Bill Maher would get celebrity perspective on everyday things like unisex bathrooms, and politics and things like that- that's how I'd figure lunch would go. Celebrities are people, too, right?

Really interesting, well known... people.

Shannon
 

He realized, reading her email, that it must be nice to be a regular everyday person. Not boring or uninteresting, just... civilian, he called it. Not well known. Not friends with well known people. Living a life no one cared to document in photographs and videotape, and to sit and dream about meeting people he had met, and some he knew very well. He thought she might react very well to his news. He just wasn't sure how to tell her. And he needed to see this Tom Hanks movie.

Subject: Halp.

I have a date. I haven't had a date in a long time. I want to say forever, but I don't want to be dramatic.

*fretfretfretfret*

Shannon

I have a date. I have a date. I have a date.

He didn't read past those letters for the first few minutes after he got the email. Something happened to him, inside him, somewhere in the vicinity of his lungs. He sort of stopped breathing and was lightheaded and couldn't think.

I have a date. She had a date. “Well duh, man,” he told himself. “Of course she has a date. You've seen her. Did you really think she was saving herself for random man from LA? JSC080876? “Joshua” who won't tell her anything about himself and hadn't ever sent her a picture, almost a year later? Really? You're jealous?”

Subject: Re: Halp

Honey, just be yourself. There's nothing to fret about. Who says 'fret' these days? You been talking to your Grandma again?

When is your date?

Joshua
 

Subject: Re: Re: Halp

I use antiquated language when I'm nervous.

Tomorrow. I'm so nervous. Shit.

Shannon

Subject: Talk to me

Tell me about this guy. And where are you going?

Joshua

He did want to know, so he could help her. But really he wanted to know because... well he just wanted to know. He had to know. If she started dating, she would write less. And yes, he was selfish. He didn't want her to write less.

Subject: Re: Talk to me

He's some guy I met at a bookstore. One of Portland's best, Powell's. This store is so huge and so awesome, it fills a city block. I like to spend a morning over there just perusing... reading stuff... looking around.

Anyway, I picked up this book-- I'm doing a site for an art gallery and I wanted some inspiration. I just was flipping through the book and he came and sat beside me and was quiet for quite a bit, flipping through his book, too. Then he started making comments and we started talking, and.. well obviously, I talk to strangers. : ) He made me laugh, so loud we got 'shushed'.

So he asked me my name and I told him and then he told me his- Andy- and he asked if I'd like to go the opening of the gallery I'm doing a website for. I mean, I was already going, but now I have a date for it. Like, dinner and stuff before hand.

I just haven't been on a real date in awhile and I get very chatty when I'm nervous and I'm nervous as FUCK.

Let's talk about something else.

Shannon

Yes. Lets. Let's not talk about Andy and how he made her laugh and she was nervous as FUCK to go out with him. Not while he was contemplating sharing something big with her.

Subject: Something Else

What book were you flipping through?

Joshua

Subject: Re: Re: Something Else

I'm sort of obsessed with Ancient Egypt these days. I picked up The Treasures of Ancient Egypt: From the Egyptian Museum in Cairo.

The gallery's first exhibit is what this book is about-- treasures and antiques from ancient Egypt. I cant wait to see them in person! I bought the book, actually, and brought it home. I needed the inspiration for the web pages.

I'm feeling better. If I don't think about it, I don't freak out.

Do you ever date?

Shannon
 

Date? Or ask women out just to be with someone? Just to have someone to talk to? Have sex because she's hot and warm and he needed it, not because he necessarily need to show how he felt about someone? Met women and talked to them and compared them, in his head to Shannon? He did a lot of that. Date? Nah.
 

Subject: Date?

I go out with people. I don't... really date.

It's a lot to deal with. Sometimes too much, to deal with. I just haven't met someone I'm willing to jump through the dating kinds of hoops with, in awhile. And lately I stay pretty busy, and my schedule varies so much... it gets hard when it's like the third Friday night in a row that I'm working and she wants to like, be social and spend time together. I just don't have the energy for that, right now.

So you haven't gone out with anyone since the Science Teacher? That was months ago.


Joshua
 

Subject: Re: Date?

No, not since him. I kind of take long breaks between boyfriends. I need to readjust and find myself again, otherwise I start thinking new guy is like old guy and that isn't fair. I need a clean slate every time, you know?

Shannon

Subject: Re: Re: Date?

Yeah. I know. Well good luck tomorrow. If you're half as captivating in person as you are in email, he will adore you. I hope he's good enough for you. Seriously. You deserve someone good.

I gotta head out for the night, and I'll be out of here early tomorrow and out all day-- work. Get lots of sleep and don't worry. There's really nothing you can do but be yourself. Ok?

Email me when you get back though?

Joshua

 

He had a terrific, fantastic, fun day. It was a long day and it was hard work. It was TV work, which always made him sort of nervous until he got used to cameras again. He started on TV, so it shouldn't weird him out, but it was a little jarring every time he stepped away from it and then got back into it. So yes, it was TV but it was also artistic and something he loved and almost didn't sign up for but in the end was glad he did. It would be fun, and he had something new to do every week.

He was also making progress on actually having a career. He was gun shy, for sure. The thing was, he'd been 'in the business' for a long time, and didn't feel like he should have to sort through the same deals that the young upstarts he was writing for was getting. He didn't want to get all 'don't you know who I am?' but seriously-- didn't they know who he was? He wasn't in a hurry. Sometimes just the right comedy of errors worked in your favor. Until something happened that he could feel confident about, he would do other things.

He came home pretty late, after the taping, but had no email from Shannon. He took a shower, watched some TV, made some phone calls and still no email from Shannon. He fell asleep waiting and late, very late, a faint 'ding' woke him up. She was home.

Subject: Finally. Home. OMG.

First, the exhibit. INCREDIBLE. I saw EVERYTHING. Every piece. It was amazing.

Second, remember when I said I was really chatty when I was nervous? I guess Andy is, too. I can't remember anything I said, all night. Maybe because I didn't say anything. He talked about himself the entire time. All through dinner. The drive from the restaurant to the gallery. Throughout the exhibit.

Then, he wanted to leave early. I wasn't ready to go-- I mean, I was really into it. He kept saying 'this'll be here for a few weeks, we can always come back. Let's go. Let's go have some dessert. I feel a connection. We need to talk more'.

I told him that I wasn't really feeling a connection with him, and he could leave, if he liked, but I planned to stay. He actually left! Wow.

I went out with some friends after, and they brought me home.

Why are guys so weird? Why can't I meet someone normal?

How are you? How was your long day? I thought about you, a lot. I enjoyed the exhibit but I would have so rather have been talking to you. It would have been neat if you were here and you could have gone to the opening with me. We'd have had a good time, together.

I'm heading to bed. If you're still up, I'll catch you in the morning. Sleep tight.

Shannon
 

He'd never been so happy to hear about a bad date. Which made him feel bad-- he didn't want to wish bad dates and a horrible time on her. But it appeared she was not going to be dating this 'Andy' and he wouldn't take Shannon away from him. Yes, he was selfish, and he didn't want to share her.

Subject: Sorry about your bad date

But yay for the great exhibit. If I was there, I would have loved to go with you.

My long day was perfect. Terrific, in fact. I had fun.

Hope you had good sleep. Talk to you later.

Joshua
 

He logged off, set the notebook on the nightstand, and rolled over. But he couldn't sleep. He had to tell her. It was killing him to not tell her. Tomorrow, he decided... he would try to tell her.

Subject: What would you say...

If I told you I'd been keeping something from you? Something important. Would you be mad?


Joshua
 

Subject: Re:What would you say...

You're not married, are you?
 

Honestly? Hm. Well.  We agreed not to push each other to share too much, but after all this time I might be a little sad that you still feel like there are things you can't tell me.

You haven't told me a whole lot about you. I don't know if you're shy or if you don't trust me. Either way, I just decided a long time ago to wait it out. Either you would someday feel comfortable about telling me or there would be tons of things I'd never know about you.


Shannon
 

Subject: Re: Re: What would you say...

Ha, no I'm not married. Nowhere near it.

Someday?  So  you think we'll still talk, months and years from now?

Joshua
 

Subject: Re: Re: Re: What would you say...
 

Well, I'm an optimist, so... yes I think so. Because I want to. I hope we do.

What's with the questions?

Shannon
 

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: What would you say...

Shannon...I have something to tell you. I HAVE to tell you this,  and I don't know how to say it.

It's not bad. I just have been keeping something important from you. Something that's a really big part of me, of my life and it's made it so I can't share very much with you and I feel like that's a huge stumbling block, right now.

I feel like a fraud, anymore. We've talked about so much, and I've left out so much. And you've shared so much and I have really liked getting to know you, but I haven't shared hardly anything at all, and I'm aware of that.  You've been there for me, without even knowing it, so much, which I'm very thankful for.

So I kind of feel like... I feel like you deserve to know this very important thing.

Joshua

 

Subject: Okay. Well.

Are you not really ready to say it? If not, you don't have to. I'm not going anywhere.

Take your time.

Shannon

 

He wished she could stop being so sweet and nice and demand to know, so he could just get mad and bang it out and hit send, without thinking. But that wasn't her nature. She was patient. She would wait as long as he made her wait and wouldn't complain. She would be curious and it would probably drive her mad, but she wouldn't ask.

He just had to... he just had to say it. Type it, rather. Out with it. Just.. say it. Just start. Just open an email and say it. Just... OK start slow.
 

Subject: So, here goes.

Sort of.

I'm not ready to say who I am, yet...but you probably know me. I mean.. I don't know how to say this without sounding like a pompous ass, so I'll just say I'm a celebrity.

You probably know me by face if not by name. And if you don't, then just ignore all this.

Ha!

Joshua

Subject: Re: So, here goes
 

Are you serious? Is this a joke?

Don't joke with me, Joshua. You know I'm kind of gullible!

Shannon

Subject: Re: Re: So, here goes
 

I'm serious.

I'm really nervous about this because  I don't want things to change. I want us to still be friends and for us to still talk like always and I don't want you get all..'fawny'... and weird and... freak out. Lol.

Joshua
 

Subject: Re: Re: Re: So, here goes
 

Oh. Well. I can understand that. I'm not patronizing you. I just... I can understand that. I wouldn't want things to change, either and I promise to not be 'fawny' and to not be weird and to not freak out.

And I totally understand if you still want to wait. Take your time.

Shannon

He was feeling more and more confident. TELL her.

 

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: So, here goes
 

Who do you think I am?

What do you think I do?

Yeah. I'm stalling.


Joshua

Subject: You
 

Are uhmmmmmmmmm. Ooh. You ARE a world famous architect! A pretentious, self loving, trendy colored shades wearing, fake accent having, famous 'really out there' architect.

Or...

Okay you said you write music. You're a temperamental composer. One of those that sits in dark rooms and writes concertos so moving you cry at your own music. You even have a powdered wig.

Or...

You're hip hop superstar. That's it, isn't it. You're a rapper. Are you Vanilla Ice? OMG! You're Vanilla Ice!

:)

Shannon
 

Subject: Re: You
 

Well if you're not gonna take this seriously, I'm not gonna play....

Joshua
 

Subject: Re: Re: You
 

I'm serious!

Honey, I have no idea. I'd like to say I don't care, but I do and I want to know but I don't want to push.

It doesn't matter, either way, who you are. We'll always be cool. And I'm sure it'll be nice to not have to hide stuff, huh?

Shannon

She made him laugh like no one else. He wasn't as nervous, now. I mean, come on. It was Shannon. His friend. Of course she was gonna be ok with it. So, just tell her, man. Just get it over with.

 

Subject: OK so really, here goes

My name really is Joshua.

And I really go by initials in my professional and sometimes personal life.  My name is Joshua Scott Chasez. I go by JC.

Ta daaaaaaa! 

I'm gonna be very embarrassed if you have no clue. I'll send you a picture, right now, if you want.

Joshua
 

His finger hovered over the mouse button. If he pressed 'send', their friendship changed forever. Immediately. He hoped it wouldn't be for the worse. He closed his eyes and pressed send. And then logged out and backed away from the notebook.

For all his big talk, he was the one freaking out. His heart was beating so fast he thought it might be trying to bust its way out of his chest. He was sweating, and he was restless. He couldn't sit there and wait for her response. He went downstairs and tried to get his mind off of his email and to resist the urge to check incessantly for a response.

He watched half of several shows, not paying any attention to anything, until he'd tortured himself long enough and went back upstairs and logged back in.
 

Subject: I'll be honest
 

I totally just had a freak out right here in my apartment. Then I thought you were lying and I felt stupid. Then I looked at your email address and your birthday and unless you're really committed to this lie and have been hanging on to it for almost a year...

Hi. : )

How do you feel? Still nervous?

Shannon

 

Subject: Re: I'll be honest

After all that 'I don't want things to change, and promise you won't freak out and don't fawn' and stuff like that... I totally freaked out.

I logged out and ran downstairs and pretended I wanted to watch TV but I have no idea what I watched so I came back up.

Hi. : )

Thank you for... just being here. You've helped me more than you know, over the last year.

I feel OK, now. Like a load off my back. And I don't feel like a fraud, anymore.

There's some stuff you might find out... because I might tell you. Please keep it to yourself. Promise?

How do you feel? Weird? Anything?


Joshua
 

Subject: Re:Re: I'll be honest
 

You're welcome. It's been my pleasure to be here. You've been here for me, too.

Of course, I wouldn't disclose anything you tell me. I will prove I am trustworthy by being so.

I feel OK. I mean... I'm surprised, but not. In the back of my mind I sort of figured something was up, because you were so secretive. I didn't imagine THAT but... I thought it was something.

You HAVE been to Portland. I've seen you, here. :)

Shannon
 

Subject: Re: Re: Re: I'll be honest
 

Yeah, I know. I just don't remember it much. We didn't really spend a lot of time in each city, when we toured. In, do some interviews, do the show, have a party, pull out.

Can I tell you something else?

Joshua
 

Subject: I don't know

If I can take more news. What?


Shannon

Subject: Re: I don't know
 

I'm really selfish, about you. I shouldn't be, but I am. I don't want to share you. Especially since you know, now. I might be leaning on you even heavier, now. Which, if it gets to be too much, tell me to hire a therapist or something. I mean, really, it's not fair to you and I shouldn't, but you 'get me' and that's hard for me to find.

When you said you had a date, I wasn't concerned with you having a good time. I was worried 'Andy' would take you away from me. I know I didn't cause your bad date but I wasn't too sympathetic when he turned out to be a tool.

If you still want to talk about him, I'm here.

Joshua
 

Subject: I never...
 

.. want to talk about Andy, ever again. Really. That's over. It's going to be awhile before I go out again. When I'd rather sit home and email random guy from LA instead of being out with a handsome guy-- well that's just not fair to the handsome guy.

I appreciate your honesty. And if I may return some... it took me a long time to ask if you dated, because I didn't want to know. I didn't want to think about some girl making demands on your time and making it so we couldn't talk.

I can't deal with that, right now, you now? I need you. I'm kinda selfish about you, too.

Schmaltzy,

Shannon

He smiled a stupid grin and looked around the room to make sure no one could see the stupid grin he was smiling. He heaved a giant sigh of relief and wilted, laying back on the bed.

He felt light as a feather and so different. Today was no deja vu. He'd never lived this day before. 

You've Got Mail

Subject: Today

Seems different.

Good morning.

Joshua

And it did. Seem different. He found himself smiling, singing, whistling. He slept well, for the first time in weeks and awoke early, in a good mood. A great mood. A great mood like he'd had sex. Except he hadn't. He'd just talked to her. Like normal. But without the whole weight of a lie on his shoulders, thing.

He ordered 'You've Got Mail' from On Demand, and made her order it, too. It wasn't his kind of movie, so if he had to watch it, so did she. So they watched it together and she was right-- it was them, except they hadn't met in a chat room. And he wasn't putting her out of business. And they weren't at odds but secretly each other's best friends. But other than that, it did remind him of them.

Subject: Re: Today

Really? Seems the same to me. ; )

Good morning. How are you?

Bruno is cracking me up, today. I love him.

We're going to the park and then I'm going to Powell's.

What are you doing?

Shannon

Subject: Re: Re: Today

Wishing I could go to the park with you and Bruno.

Maybe see a movie with my brother. Hang out a little bit. I haven't been social in a minute.

Burn the shit out of some cookies or something.

Have a good day.

Joshua

Each day after, on a scale of 'good' to 'best', wasn't the best but was better than good. He was busier than he'd been in a long time, with press and promotion for the TV show and recording and writing and producing and even some acting. Yes, acting. He was bad at it. He knew he was. Getting better but... still bad. Maybe he needed to get an acting coach. Tyler just said 'sounds good' to everything. Lance was as bad as he was. Shawn didn't care.

Subject: I suck at something

I know, this is shocking, but I've found something I suck at. No, seriously.

Should I get an acting coach?

Do you think it would help?

Joshua

Subject: Re: I suck at something

Uhm. Is there some kind of acting magician or miracle worker?

 Shannon

Subject: Re: Re I suck at something

Oh, you have jokes. Why do I talk to you?

Joshua

Subject: Re: Re: Re I suck at something

I'm real, yo. Acting coach? I think it might do you some good. You're OK, you just seem... over rehearsed. Your lines don't flow naturally, conversationally. You sound like you're trying to remember your lines. And you don't speak clearly. Kinda mumbly.

I'm not trying to insult you. And I know nothing about acting, so take my comments with a grain of salt.

Shannon

Subject: Have I mentioned how nice it is …

To not have to hide anything anymore? It's like I weigh a hundred pounds less, now.

I'm not insulted by your comments. I've heard much worse from people who claim to love me, so thanks. I'm gonna look into it. I have a chance at a couple of small movie roles and I want to do a good job.

So, let's say I wanted to send uhm... Bruno... something. Where might I send that?

Joshua

Subject: Re: Bruno's address

I'll send you our address. I get half of everything!

Shannon

He'd packed a box of things he wanted to send her --a care package of sorts. Some art books he'd picked up along the way and enjoyed, a box of dog treats for Bruno and a bag of her favorite candy- green apple Jolly Ranchers. She was a freak for anything green apple but she LOVED green apple candies. On a recent trip to a warehouse store with Tum he passed the biggest bag of green apple Jolly Ranchers he'd ever seen and had to buy them. He wouldn't tell Tum who they were for-- he wasn't much of a candy buyer-- but she figured it out when he was smug and told her to mind her own business.

People were openly teasing him now, about Shannon. He didn't really care. Something was happening. He wasn't encouraging it, but he wasn't fighting it either.

Subject: You

Are so sweet! We got your package today. You did not have to do that, but thank you so much. We love it.

I'm flipping through the books right now, and I've already had four pieces of candy and Bruno would not rest until I opened the box and gave him a treat.

Thank you! : )

  Shannon

Subject: Re: You

You're welcome. Enjoy.

Joshua

A few days later a box for him arrived. When he saw the return address, he smiled. Portland, Oregon. He sat at his kitchen table with his coffee and his notebook PC and the morning paper and cut the box open and laughed when he looked inside. Peanut Butter cups, and large prints of Bruno at the park from the week before, a book of paintings and a few books on acting. On the top book, in neat cursive she had left a note:

“Not saying you need any help, but I saw these at Powell's and thought you might like to flip through them. They got great reviews from people who study. And some treats to enjoy while you read. “

Love, S&B

He stared for a minute at the note, ran his fingers where she'd written, feeling very strangely sentimental about it all. She'd touched all of these things before she packed them into the box. They'd all been in her apartment, in her hands. She'd hand written the labels and the note, in her neat, straight cursive scrawl. He picked up the note, removing it from the book where it was stuck. A faint scent wafted past his nose and he sniffed it. It smelled, very lightly, of perfume.

“Does she spray her sticky notes to you with perfume?” Tyler asked from behind him.

“Shut up,” he said, grinning and sniffing.

“Does that shit actually work? No girl has every sprayed paper with perfume for me,” Tyler said.

“I don't know if it works, but... it's awfully nice,” he said, gathering up the books and the candy and the photos and placing them back in the box before Tyler could get his grubby hands on them. 

Subject: You

Are sweet, yourself. Thank you so much!

I got your box today. I've already had to hide the candy from Tyler. He's a little pig.

Thank you for the books. I'll look through them and try some of the exercises. That means you have to let me know if I improve, OK?

Did you spray that sticky note with perfume?

Joshua

Subject: Re: You

You're welcome. Enjoy!

And maybe.

Shannon

Subject: Re: Re: You

No no no. You don't get off that easy.

Maybe, or yes?

Joshua

Subject: Yes. Sort of.

I have a pad of sticky notes that are already perfumed. I just used one of those instead of a plain one. I thought it was a nice touch.

Now I'm embarrassed.

Did you see the pictures of my boy?

Shannon

Subject: Re: Yes. Sort of.

Yeah, I saw them-- really nice shots of him. He's beautiful. Is he getting bigger?

I didn't mean to embarrass you. I was just wondering. It was a nice touch.

I'm not spraying anything with cologne. Just so you know. I'm way too lazy for that.

Joshua

Subject: Re: Re: Yes. Sort of.

I would think you were weird if you did. Yeah Bruno is about 67 lbs now.

So. I have to be a Debbie Downer. I have to leave, but I'll be back later.

Shannon

Subject: Talk to me

What's up? You can talk to me. Now that I have these awesome acting books, I can appear to be sensitive and caring in a convincing manner.

I'm serious. What?

Joshua

He didn't get an email for awhile. A long while. It worried him but he thought maybe she just needed some time. For the first time in a long time he had an day like he'd had before-- the old routine-- but didn't really mind it. It was sort of a relief to follow the old schedule. The only problem was that she wasn't there to distract him from the monotony. Hours later, a new email finally arrived.

Subject: My Grandma is sick

I'm kind of not okay about it. My mom called me, while I was emailing you, to tell me she was taking her to the hospital. She's having trouble breathing. They think she has pneumonia and don't know if she'll come out.

My mom and my Grandma are all I've ever had. I'm terrified we will lose her. I don't even know what to think. I just got back from the hospital. She just looks so small.

I don't think she's okay. I don't think I'm okay.

I'm a drag, today. I'm sorry.

Shannon

Subject: Re: My Grandma is sick

Honey, seriously, I've been a drag for like, a year. You can lean on me for once.

I know you're scared... I would be, too.

But you're a strong person and you'll make it through.

That rhymed. : )

Please say that made you smile.

Joshua

Subject: You

Are the sweetest goof I have ever accidentally met.

It did make me smile. Laugh, even. You say you write songs for a living? Hummmmmmmmmmm.

I guess no amount of worrying or crying will make it better. Just wait and see. I'm gonna head back up to the hospital in a bit and relieve my mom. She's been there most of the day and she needs to go to work.

Shannon

Subject: Re: You

Do you maybe want my phone number? You could call me or text me while you're up there, if you want to talk. I don't mind, really.

 Joshua
 

Subject.: Yes.

Please. I'll probably text, they're kind of anti cell phone up there. If that's okay.

Thank you. Just... just thank you. I can't tell you what it means that you offered that. 

I want to get schmaltzy, but I will spare you.

Shannon

He was as nervous and scared for her as if it was his own Grandma in Intensive Care. From their conversations, it seemed her Grandma was the cornerstone of the family. She'd been a single mom who raised a single mom and Shannon was the light of her life. It didn't sound like she was doing too well and the sparse text messages he got from Shannon every few hours reinforced that. Then, after a long, long, LONG span of silence, he got the two word text he'd been dreading: “She's gone.”

He was devastated for her, as he read the text, the two words that said so much. He wasn't a crier but dammit if he didn't feel like shedding a tear. He messaged her back that she could contact him any time, but he understood if she was going to be out of communication for awhile. She said she'd be in touch in a few days.

He felt... helpless. Like words on a screen were going to make her feel better, feel like he wanted her to feel, like he was there for her. Times like these made him wish they really knew each other. Had really seen each other face to face. Had actually met, and weren't just email buddies trying to pretend they were more than that. If he was a real friend, wouldn't be on a plane, or by her side? Wouldn't he find a way to comfort her and be there for her? What was he doing? Playing a game on the Wii, waiting for her to send a sad email or a short, forlorn text, so he could type out some comforting words and go back to his life? He felt like he did just enough to make sure she stayed friends with him, so he'd have someone to talk to, and she went out of her way, uncomfortably so at times, to show she cared about him.

There was a reason, of course, he was avoiding doing anything irrational. And it would be completely irrational to just jump on a plane and fly up there. They hadn't met-- they had yet to even speak on the phone-- but he was going to just fly up there and come to her rescue? And do what? It wouldn't make any sense for him, being who he was, to fly up there to see a girl he'd never met.

If it was any indication, Tyler didn't bat an eye when he said he was flying up to Portland, because Shannon's Grandma died, and offered to drive him to the airport. Lance had sad eyes as he packed, and said he was doing a good thing by going up there. Shawn didn't care, but didn't say he thought it was weird. And Shawn would say it, if he thought it.

He didn't want to tell her that he was coming. She would say 'no, don't come up here' and she'd refuse any help and she'd be the strong woman she'd always been, in pain and hurting and devastated, but worried about how HE was doing. When he thought about how much his life had changed in a short year and how much she had to do with that, he just couldn't see sitting there, playing games on the Wii, and being a rock star, and 'sending good thoughts' when his life afforded him such luxuries as the ability to just get on a fucking plane and give a girl a hug.

It was raining at the Portland Airport. Four hours after reading her text, he was on a flight and two hours later, he'd landed. It was late... or early... after 2 am when he gave the cab driver the address that he'd copied off of her email and as they got closer, he got more and more nervous. He hoped it wasn't a mistake to do this.

He thought back to one of their conversations, back in the early days, about how he wasn't one to jump through hoops or lose his mind for a girl. How he hadn't met someone that he wanted to go through all the motions with. Or for. And yet he hardly thought twice about getting on a fucking plane to give a girl a hug.

 The cab stopped in front of her building. He paid the driver and stood in front of the multiple doors, trying to decide which way to go. He stared at the piece of paper in his hand, counting the numbers. He was shaking... not from the cold. From nerves. He climbed the single flight of stairs, noting that the lamp in that apartment was on and if it was hers, she was probably awake. He stopped in front of the door and took a deep breath before pressing the doorbell.

 A deep bark could be heard from inside. He smiled to himself. He hadn't even thought about meeting Bruno. He heard a voice shush him and then the slapslapslap of slippers against floor. And then three locks turning. And then the door opened. And there stood Shannon, in flannel pajama pants and a thin white t-shirt, sucking on a green apple sucker. She pulled it out of her mouth with a 'pop', her pink lips still pursed. She swallowed and a slow smile spread across her face.

 “I just sent you an email,” she said. Her eyes were red-- bloodshot-- her voice was ragged and she had bags under her weary brown eyes. She looked very tired. But so beautiful.

“I'll read it later. I'm kinda busy right now,” he said with a smile.

 She stepped aside to let him in and closed the door behind him. He rolled his suitcase into the middle of the room and glanced around. The room was warm and cozy. Bruno circled him several times, panting and sniffing and then made himself comfortable on the couch. The books he'd sent her were on her coffee table, among other art and web design books and magazines. She stood at the door, and hadn't moved since she closed it. Her hand was still on the knob.

“What are you doing here? I can't believe you're here. But what are you doing here?”

He shrugged. “Well. I was sitting at home. Thinkin'. And I wanted to give you a hug. Because emailing a hug just wasn't gonna cut it. So I got on a plane and I came here to give you one. “

She stared at him, her eyes wide. Unmoving. Then she blinked. And her face fell into a sob. And in a rush of not more than two steps, ran across the room and into arms that opened just in time to catch her.

He had no idea how long they stood there. He didn't care. He would stand there 'till his body was asleep, if that's what she needed. Eventually, she pulled back and let him go and swiped at her face with her hands, still holding her half eaten sucker. She tossed the sucker into the small garbage can near the couch and then glanced up at him shyly.

“So... this is my apartment. Bruno the attack dog doesn't seem to have a problem with you.”

“Yeah,” he said, chuckling nervously. “So, tell me what you emailed me. Was it about your Grandma?”

She nodded and pointed toward the couch, where they shooed Bruno and sat and talked. They sat close and talked long, until she was deliriously sleepy. He had his arm around her and she leaned her head on his chest and didn't remember falling asleep. And didn't remember him laying her down. And didn't remember him carefully arranging a blanket over her and turning off the lamp, and laying down on the floor next to her ( and Bruno laying on his feet) and staring up at the ceiling until he was also asleep.

He awoke slowly to the sensation of being watched. One electric blue eye opened to find Shannon still on the couch, on her side, eyes open, watching him sleep. The other eye opened at the sound of panting and hot breath on his face. She and Bruno appeared to have been keeping vigil for awhile.

“This is creepy,” he grumbled, sitting up.

“Sorry. It's not everyday I wake up to some random guy laying on my floor. I had to make sure I wasn't dreaming.” She smiled as she sat up. Bruno thought that meant it was time to play or go or… something, because he got up and whined and circled the post next to the door where his leash hung.

“Do you want me to take him out? He seems to he having some sort of fit.”

“Could you? Down the stairs and around back. He knows where to go, just let him take you,” she said, pointing at the leash. “He has to be on a leash around here.”

“We'll be back,” he said, closing the door behind them.

When they came back, his suitcase was out of the living room and the couch was no longer a makeshift bed. He heard a shower running, so, following Bruno's lead, he filled the dog's bowl with food and removed the leash. He took a seat on the couch again, Bruno coming to lay on his feet when he had finished eating, and that's where she found him when she came out of the shower.

“I put your suitcase in the bedroom and I set out some towels and stuff for you, if you want to shower. It's open,” she said. “Make yourself at home. My house is yours.”

“Thanks. Uhm. You have stuff you have to do today, I assume?”

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “My mom and I need to go to the Funeral Home.”

“I'll come along, if you want. I don't have to, but it's what I'm here for. Anything you need.”

“I appreciate that,” she said. “I love that you came up here. I really do. I can't... I can't find words...” she started to tear up and he hugged her to him, stroking her hair, trying not to think about how good she smelled. When she calmed, she pulled away and led him to his suitcase so he could shower.  

His heart had never hurt for a girl before. Her pain ran so deep he could feel it from across the room. Her eyes didn't sparkle and her smile didn't seem easy and she wasn't half the girl she seemed to be in her email. He hadn't expected her to be-- it was why he was there, after all. He just hoped his presence helped and didn't stress her out, give her one more person to worry about and someone to entertain. He didn't want to be a drag on her. He wanted to help.

So help, he did. He met her mom, who hugged him tight and cried on his shoulder, and accompanied them both to the Funeral Home. He sat in the chapel while they made arrangements, and enjoyed the peace and quiet. When they came to collect him, he was so deep into the atmosphere that he didn't hear them come behind him. They sat in the back row and waited for him to finish praying or meditating or whatever it was he was doing-- contemplating. And when he was finished they left together. The Funeral would be held the following day, in the same chapel.

Oddly, her mother left for work. Sitting at home was just too much, too much quiet, for her. She had to be busy and occupy her hands and her mind and her time. He and Shannon returned to her apartment, where she made them some dinner and they had more time to talk.

“My mom is so impressed that you came up. Like, really touched.” He shrugged shyly and gave her a smile. “How are your Acting books? Did you try anything yet?”

“No, but I brought a script, because I need to learn some lines. I was reading through them on the plane.”

“You're kidding. Bust out with some lines, then. Show me whatcha workin' with!” she said, laughing for the first time since he arrived.

 He stared at her, at her pretty face and big smile and eyes that disappeared because she was laughing. “Wow, I've never heard you laugh before.”

She tilted her head and blushed. “Is that a good wow, or an 'oh my God, she sounds like that, book me on the next flight outta here', wow?”

He laughed. “It's a 'that's one of the world's most beautiful sounds' wow. I like it,” he said softly.

The next day was long. He was lucky Lance reminded him to toss in a pair of slacks at the last minute, or he'd have had to attend the service in jeans. It was a small, short service, but Shannon and her mom had to be there early, and had to stay after until everyone was gone, and then there was the dinner at her mom's house. By the time they made it back to Shannon's apartment, they were both beat.

“When are you flying back?” she asked. They sat on the couch, Bruno between them. He ran his hands along the shiny caramel coat as the giant animal laid his head in his lap.

“When I'm sure you're okay,” he answered. “Couple days. I'm not in a hurry. Is it okay that I'm here? Do you need me to go, or...?”

“No no no. No, I... I love that you're here. I'm so incredibly touched that you came up here. And I'm glad you're not going back right away. We have some time to like, talk. In person. This is weird.” She grinned.

“I know. You want me to go send you an email?”

“No, silly goof. It's just... it's nice to see you. In the flesh.” She reached out and patted his arm and then his leg. He grabbed her hand and held it. Looked her in the eyes. Those pretty brown eyes.

“How are you? Really.”

“I'm okay. I could be better, but I could be much worse. It just... kind of happened so fast, you know?”

“Yeah. But it's almost worse when you're just sitting around waiting for it to happen.”

“Thankfully we didn't have to do that.” She squeezed his hand. “So, we can go to the park tomorrow, with Bruno. You said you wanted to go with us.”

“Definitely. And then can you take me to Powell's? I gotta see this place.”

She nodded, excitedly bouncing. Bruno huffed, unhappy at the movement.

“And then.... I will take you to lunch. Oh! We have to go down to the art district. There's some great stuff to look at, and some cafes and shops...” she stopped, and deflated. “Oh. You probably can't just hang out, huh?”

He shrugged. “I should be okay. We just won't draw attention to ourselves.” It was his turn to squeeze her hand. He was determined to be there for her. He didn't fly up there to hide in her apartment. If she wanted to go the art district, then dammit he was going to the art district. “We'll be fine.”

And they were. Hardly even a ripple of attention. A few knowing glances and smiles and shy waves, but no crowds and no ridiculous outpourings of bad behavior. He hadn't seen one of those in... gosh... years. “I'm not Justin Timberlake,” he often said. “I can go anywhere I want.”

Tyler sent him a few text messages, wondering how it was going. He sent back messages when he had time, that it was going fine. Shawn wanted to know if he'd slept with her yet. He wasn't even going to dignify that text with a response. It didn't seem like the right time to even be thinking about that-- though she was his 'type', if he had one. She could lean her head on his chest in stocking feet and her hair was the stuff his dreams were made of-- long and shiny and silky and wavy. She had dancer's legs and pretty feet with manicured toes and a silhouette that just wouldn't quit-- but not that he'd noticed.

Well, it wasn't like he hadn't thought about it. He had lots of opportunity-- she insisted he sleep in the bed and not on the couch, because she knew from experience that it wasn't comfortable. Her King size bed had plenty of room and she wouldn't hear of him breaking his back on a 3x5 card worth of space on the couch. “Besides,” she said. “You need the Bruno experience.”

So, no. He hadn't slept with her. He watched her sleep and longed to reach out and touch her face, tuck a piece of shiny, silky, wavy hair behind her ear but he resisted. Wanted to intertwine his fingers with hers and walk hand in hand through the art galleries and exhibits and street vendors, through lunch and while they walked through the thick trees and brush with Bruno, but instead stuck his hands in his pocket. Wanted to grab her and hug her to him and kiss her till his lips were raw and chapped but instead stared into the distance as he listened to her talk.

He remembered telling her sometimes that just the right comedy of errors could work in your favor. Or was he telling himself that? Anyway. Sometimes he wondered where he'd be if she hadn't sent that email, on accident. One very innocent mistake, a simple error had changed his life-- what if that had never happened? Would he still be doing the same thing, living the same life, enduring the same monotony of the same day, everyday? It wasn't even as if she'd said 'hey get off your ass and do something different. If you can't do what you want, find something else you want to do.' He'd just... done it. But felt inspired to by her. When he had someone to talk to and work things out with-- someone that listened and didn't just hear and promptly dismiss-- it let him swim through the murkiness and the fuzziness to something that was clear and defined. She hadn't meant to, but she changed his life.

So he figured she deserved more than being treated like a warm body, because she was there and she was hot and he needed it and would enjoy it. When... well more like if... something happened with her, he wanted that moment to be about expressing what he felt for her and not about getting off. She wasn't that kind of girl.

“Okay, one more time,” she said, adjusting the video camera. “But just say it like you're talking to me, not like you're Mr Acting Man. Okay, go.”

He closed his eyes, set down his script, and then opened them. “Mister, I don't know what to tell you,” he recited from memory. “It was... it was right here, and now it's not..” He looked around, confused, frustrated, then held up his hands in defeat. “I can check around for you if you want. But it was right here.” He paused, then glanced at her. “Better?”

She squealed and grinned. “So much better. Wanna watch?”

They sat side by side, watching the playback on the small screen of the camcorder. It was Shannon's idea, from one of the books she'd sent him, to film him rehearsing his lines. It was helping, a lot. He saw where he muttered instead of speaking clearly and how 'wooden' and practiced he sounded. Seeing himself and hearing himself was painful but he could already see improvement.

“We need web cams. I don't know if I can go back to email after, like... seeing you.”

“I know, that would be fun, huh? I have a webcam. Do you want me to download this and send it to you?” He nodded and she hopped up to connect it to her computer. Her screen saver flipped off and he laughed at her desktop photo-- a paparazzi shot of him shopping at The Grove.

“I'm gonna send you a real picture of me,” he said, still laughing.

“What's wrong with that picture. I like it. It's cute. You're cuter in person, though. Much.”

“So are you. Much.”

“Thanks,” she said with a blush, turning around to smile at him, then turning back to the screen. “So, I have to go into the office tomorrow for a meeting around 10. Will you be fine, by yourself, or do you want me to drop you at a coffee shop or something?”

“I'll hang with Bruno. We'll be okay, won't we, boy?” He shifted his feet under Bruno's massive haunches. “He's so weird with this foot thing. But my feet are warm.”

“Yeah I can't figure out what that's about, but... it's just a quirk, I guess. He's usually over here, under my feet, unplugging shit.” She downloaded the video, zipped it into a folder and emailed it to him. “I won't be gone long tomorrow. An hour, maybe two. I'm in between projects, so I don't really have to work tomorrow. I would have spent so much time bothering you over email if you weren't here.”

 “And I would have loved that, if I wasn't here.”

She turned around and smiled at him. A big smile, so her eyes disappeared. She had such a pretty smile.

You've Got Mail

Pt 5

“I'm so happy you came up. I really am. I hope you had a good time, considering.”

They sat in her car, in front of Portland International Airport. He hated to leave but he had to get back before the taping-- and he didn't want to overstay his welcome. Considering, he had a wonderful time with her. He, too, was happy that he'd come to see her, spend time with her, meet her. Now he could put a real face to a name. He could hear her voice as he read her email and he could picture Bruno when she talked about him. He'd know what Powell's was and he'd know, if she mentioned that cafe where they had lunch after her meeting that morning, what she was talking about.

“You don't have to get out,” he said, a hand on her arm. “It's cold out, and I'm just gonna run right in. I just um... I wanted to say thanks for letting me stay with you. I know I showed up out of nowhere and we hadn't even met and it could have been weird, but...” his voice trailed off and he shrugged.

“I wouldn't have had it any other way,” she said softly, with a smile.

He stared at her for long moment, fighting with himself. Should he? He should. He should just do it. No. It would be weird and it would change things and he was the one railing against any changes. But he wanted to, so very badly, had wanted to since he first saw her picture, since he first saw her at the door of her apartment, pretty pursed lips at 3 am.

“No,” he told himself. “Get out of the car, and go home. Get out of the car. Go home. Get--”

He was genuinely surprised when lips met his. Smooth, firm, sweet. Oh, God. And then they were gone. When he opened his eyes, she was smiling, a big smile.

“Thank you. For everything. You better get going. Email me when you get home.”

Subject: I wish...

I wish I would have done it, instead of staring at you until you did it. But I liked it. Thank you.

I'm home. I need to really hit this script tonight. I tape tomorrow and I have a rehearsal Wednesday.

I hope tomorrow is a good day for you.

You made me want to go back. To turn around, and get back in the car and go back and do that some more.

Joshua

Subject: Re: I wish...

I wish I hadn't have waited until you were almost gone. I was thinking maybe you didn't, because it would be weird and then... I just went for it.

Oh, well. I have no regrets. I loved it.

Tomorrow will be a good day for the both of us. I look forward to hearing from you after your taping.

Now buckle down on the script, young man! : )

You're welcome to come here anytime. ANY time. I mean that.

Shannon

Tyler and Shawn and Lance and Tum pestered him for updates, but he wasn't in a hurry to disclose any details. Past telling them he really enjoyed meeting her, he kept all information about his trip to himself. He did share one photo with them-- from their last walk through the park. They found a passerby to take a picture of him, Shannon, and Bruno. Shannon had emailed the picture to him and he made it his desktop wallpaper. When they emailed, he looked at the picture of them together. He had every intention of making his way back to Portland.

They continued to email everyday, some days several times a day, some days non stop. When he wanted someone to listen to him run through his lines over and over and over, he turned on the web cam that was built into his notebook and she would listen and give feedback. She'd recorded it and send it back to him so he could see himself-- which he both hated and appreciated. And sometimes they just sat on the web cam and talked. Talked about things that were hard to email or thoughts that were too stupid to type out and send. She told him about her irrational fears and he told her about his. Her regrets and his. Her dreams and his. The more he learned about her, the more he wanted to know. She was like a habit-- a very good, very pretty, very funny, good for him, habit.

Subject: Duuuuuuuuuuuude Nine Inch Nails

Where've they been all my life. Closer is my shit today!

Rawr!

Hi.

Shannon

He laughed, when he read the email. Sometimes she could be so random, so unpredictable, so... normal and unaffected and happy. Some of the most mundane things could elicit such a crazy, animated response from her. He enjoyed her, and enjoyed figuring her out. He envied her random, everyday, normal happiness.

Subject: Re: Duuuuuuuuuuuude Nine Inch Nails

  You trying to kill me, over here?

  Hi.

  Joshua

Subject: Re: Re: Duuuuuuuuuuuude Nine Inch Nails

?

Just commenting on music.

What?

Shannon

Subject: You know

What.

Joshua

Subject: I don't think I know what...

What?

Shannon

Subject: Re: I don't think I know what...

Nothing, Shannon. Nothing.

What are you and Bruno doing today?

Joshua

Subject: Re: Re: I don't think I know what...

NO. No no no. You don't get off that easily.

You want me to call you? Is it too stupid to type?

Shannon

Subject: Re:Re :Re I don't think I know what...

No. It's nothing.

I was just thinking about that song. It's a cool song. I think it's a very sexy song.

Really like... rough and base and guttural. I like it. You never heard it before?

Joshua

Subject: Oh... okay

You make such a federal case out of some things. That wasn't a bad thing to say to me.

Silly goof.

No, I never heard it. I don't know how, but I like it, too.

Shannon

Subject: I didn't say...

What I was thinking.

Joshua

Subject: Re: I didn't say..

Now you have to say it. Want me to call you?

Shannon

Subject: Re: Re: I didn't say...

Stop offering to call me!

I was just thinking that it's...nice to have sex to.

Makes for nice rhythm.

Joshua

Subject: Oh.

Were you thinking about that?

Shannon

He paused, before sending the next email, unsure if he should send it, almost regretting going down this path. What if she didn't want that, from him? What if? Well, what if a lot of things. He forced himself to press 'send'.

Subject: Re: Oh.

I was. With you.

Is that what you want to hear?

Joshua

Subject: Re: Re: Oh

 It's not about what I want to hear. It's about what you want to say. That's what I want to hear. Or read.

I've thought about nothing else since you left. Yummy.

Shannon

Subject: Shit.

I have to get back up to Portland soon, huh?

 Joshua

Subject: Re: Shit

Please. Very soon.

Shannon

He wasn't altogether sure, still, what was happening. They were more on 'one day at a time' mode than anything. No talking about the past, no planning for the future, live in the now and enjoy it. And he was enjoying it. It had been a long time since he was giddy about someone... maybe since like, junior high, before he'd gone to that audition and got on TV and things changed and he couldn't afford to let his guard down. He hadn't even been this way with anyone before, not... well, not with anyone, before.

Now, he just wanted to take it slow. Gone were the days where he just hopped into bed with someone. The random hookups of just last year seemed so far behind him. In his mind, none of them compared to her. He was a methodical, structured person, and to him, there was a natural order to things. She wasn't complaining and didn't really seem to mind the pace. Something told him she was searching herself as well, to decide if this was something she should go for, or back away from. The friendship was amazing-- beyond it could be even better. But if it wasn't even better, if it was just so so and it ruined the friendship, there couldn't really be any going back. Shades of Jake colored their conversations, though-- she screwed up four years ago. She didn't want to make the same mistake twice. And he wouldn't let her.

Subject: Soooo.......

The show wrapped last week. For this season, anyway. And I am done shooting scenes. It's all over but the cringing when it comes out.

 I appear to have some free time.

Joshua

Subject: Re: Soooo

  *perk*

So... you might be looking for something (someone) fun to do, or a place to go?

  Shannon

Subject: Re: Re: Soooo

Oh, funny. I thought I might come up for a long weekend. If it's okay with you.

No pressure. Please say yes.

Joshua

Subject: Of COURSE!

Please, please, please come. Bruno... yeah... Bruno misses you. : )

When are you coming?

Shannon

Subject: Re: Of COURSE!

When do you want me? Name a date, I'm there.

Joshua

“You're going back up there already?” asked Shawn. “I don't know, man. You're getting in kinda deep.”

“Deep? I haven't been up there in months, and I really only got two days with her, because of the funeral.” He carefully folded shirts and socks and t shirts and placed them in his rolling carry-on luggage.

“I don't know man. Just... like... I don't know. Don't get yourself in trouble. You think you know this girl, but you don't.”

“No, I don't think I know this girl. That's the whole point, Shawn. I can only learn so much by email. Dude, just... I like her. A lot. Can I just have this?”

Shawn shrugged and slouched in the oversize chair, kicking his feet up onto the matching ottoman. “Alright, alright. So... you're not gonna tell me anything about the last trip, huh? You didn't hit that or nothin', man? Not even a little smooch? Come on. You know I ain't got no girl. I gotta live through you.”

“Get your dirty shoes off my furniture. At LEAST take your shoes off. And no, I have no details to share with you.”

Shawn mused for a moment, and then let a slow, evil grin cross his face. He narrowed his eyes and said, “You wouldn't be going back if you didn't think it was worth it. So if you didn't, you're going back to get some. Right?”

He gave Shawn an icy glare, then dropped two pairs of sneakers into the suitcase and went to pack his travel kit. Shawn stared at him as he came out of the bathroom and tucked the kit away in his suitcase.

“You're breaking the dude code. You know that, right?”

“Sorry,” he said, turning around. “And get your FUCKIN' feet off my FURNITURE!”

He spotted her small SUV as soon as he exited the double doors of the airport terminal and made a beeline for it. She saw him approach and popped the rear hatch. Bruno paced the backseat as he dropped his small suitcase into the trunk and pushed it closed.

“Hello, beautiful,” he said, leaning over to drop a soft kiss on her cheek then turning around to pat Bruno.

“Hello, handsome,” she answered with a smile. She smelled good. Like green apple something.

“Hungry? There's a great restaurant on the edge of the dog run, over at the park. I thought we could eat and catch up.”

“I can always eat,” he said, and she pulled away from the curb.

Dinner was great. Relaxing, warm, calm. It was nice to be away from all that was LA-- the people, the smog, the prying eyes, the occasional photographer documenting every bite he ate and drink he drank and random item he bought and step he took. It was one of those things he just had to deal with, because he didn't see it going away soon, but he wished that he could live without. Getting away was healing, to him. And getting away to see Shannon fed his soul like nothing else could. He felt like he could breathe, take full clean breaths and blow them out and breathe them back in again.

They took their time over dinner, walked the dog run with Bruno, and headed back to her apartment for the night.

“So how's your mom doing?” He accepted the cold beer she handed him and patted the couch next to him. She sat, then sighed, then took a long pull off of her bottle.

“She's alright. Doing better. She hit a rough patch for a bit but she's gonna make it. I couldn't imagine if I lost my mom. She's a strong one, though. She doesn't miss work and she tries to stay busy.”

“And how are you?” he asked, delighting in the fact that he could search her eyes, in person. “I know I ask you all the time but now I'm asking you to your face.”

She reached over to him and gave his knee a pat. “I'm doing really great, right about now. That's all that matters. I'm happy you're here.”

“I'm happy I'm here, too.” He took her hand in his and held it, then set his beer down on a coaster. “I uhm... I need to do something. It's long overdue.”

“Yes, you do,” she said, setting her beer down as well. “Now that I taste like Heineken.”

“Trust me, I won't notice,” he said, as he tipped his head toward her and pressed his lips against hers, lightly. Very lightly. She leaned into him and tipped her head and opened her mouth, playing with his tongue as it darted in to play with hers. He turned toward her and brought a hand up to her face, stroking her cheek, then digging his hands into her hair as they shared a long, unhurried, lazy kiss. Finally.

When they parted, she let out a long, satisfied sigh.

“Exactly,” he said, with a laugh, his hands still in her hair, his forehead resting against hers. They sat back against the couch, he with an arm around her while they talked and kissed, and talked some more, and kissed some more. He liked that. He liked her.

“So, do you want to watch a movie, or something?” She picked up the remote and turned on the Guide to check for movies.

He snatched the remote away. “No, you like that romantic comedy shit. I can't believe I watched 'You've Got Mail' for you.”

Her laugh was a beautiful sound as it gurgled out of her. “I didn't ASK you to watch it. I ASKED you IF you watched it. I watched it with you!”

“You said it reminded you of us, so I had to watch it.”

“You liked it. You said it was cute.”

“Yeah, I did.” He glanced over at her, eyebrows raised. “I was thinking of watching something else, tonight.”

“Oh,” she said, catching his clue. “Tell you what. If you will take Bruno out for his last walk, I'll uhm... get ready.”

“You got it,” he said, getting up from the couch and reaching for the leash. That was all Bruno needed to see-- he stood up and excitedly paced at the door while the leash was attached to his collar.

“We'll be back,” he said with a wink.

She was already removing things—her earrings were the first to come out. “I'll be waiting. When you come back, just send him to his bed over there, otherwise he'll follow you in and uhm... I don't want an audience.” She blushed and headed toward the bedroom. He shook his head and let Bruno lead him outside.

When they returned, the apartment was dark except for the light over the hood in the kitchen. As instructed, he removed the leash and sent Bruno to his bed. Bruno lumbered to his plush and cozy set up in the corner, near the window, and laid down. He turned and headed toward the bedroom.

The room was softly lit and cool and smelled faintly of vanilla. Shannon sat in the middle of the bed, her legs tucked underneath her, clad only in her bra and panties. She must have just brushed her hair. It was shiny and smooth and framed her face like a portrait.

“Are you gonna stare all night or are you coming over here?”

He realized, then, he'd just been standing there and set to work removing everything but his briefs, then climbed onto the bed and sat next to her. Then... he did nothing. She stared at him, unsmiling, but not frowning-- just... serious. Her brown eyes with the long lashes that curled up and the perfectly shaped eyebrows on that pretty little face, with the pink lips just stared at him. Finally, one eyebrow lifted and a hint of smile tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“My legs are falling asleep. I can only hold this sexy pose for so long. Are we... I mean, do you not want to, now?”

He dipped his head, laughing quietly. “Are you sure you want to do this? We don't have to, you know. If you're not comfortable, or we haven't known each other long enough, or--”

“Do I have to do everything?” she said, laughing and pushed him down, straddled him. “You wouldn't be here if I wasn't ready. I want to do this. Okay?” He nodded. “Do you?” He nodded, vigorously.

She bent to kiss him-- to kiss his lips and then his neck and then his chest and he ran his fingers through her hair-- hair he'd stared at in her pictures and wondered what it was like to run his fingers through it-- would it be silky soft, and would it smell good? It was silky, like satin and long and wavy and smelled like—well, like green apple, of course. His hands slid across her shoulders and he gripped her by her underarms and gently tugged her up, to his face, and rolled her over.

The first time was always the best time. Anticipation and wondering and hoping and dreaming always tinged the experience, adding an additional element of excitement. This first time was so unlike all the other first times, and much better than all the 'only times'. His desire to show that he wanted this because he felt something for her, and not just because she was a warm body and she was hot and he wanted it, was fulfilled. When he stroked, and she writhed, and he groaned, and she cried out and he dripped with sweat and their skin slicked against each other and they each reached a climax that rivaled all previous climaxes in, perhaps, the history of climaxes, it became the singular most wonderful moment of his life, so far.

He liked her. He liked this.

“Fuck, that was good,” he said, panting, falling back against the pillow. “Gimme about... a half hour and I wanna do that again.” He grinned as he looked over at her, regaining control over her breathing, glistening with sweat, grinning while her eyes were still closed, her hair a wild mane spread about the pillow.

“Good does not begin to describe that,” she rasped, her throat raw. “You get twenty minutes. Rest up.” She sat up and walked out of the room. He watched her walk out, admiring the back of her. Then admired the front of her as she returned with two bottles of water, handing him one and opening one for herself. He watched her drink the entire bottle, taking long drags and gulping it down till it was gone.

“You even drink water sexy. Come over here, sweet thing.” He patted the pillow next to him and she climbed in, straightening the sheets around them. He finished his water and laid down next to her, reaching over her to turn out the lamp and then wrapping his arms around her, a leg in between hers.

“I like this. I like you. A lot.”

“I like you a lot, too,” she said, muffled against his chest. She couldn't breathe but she didn't want him to let her go, so she angled her head so she could breathe and talk. “I did before I even knew who you were. I didn't develop feelings after I found out, you know. Though, I was a little scared of what I was falling for, since I'd never actually SEEN you.”

“And now you get to look at my mug all the time. I liked you before I told you, too. That's why I told you. I wanted you to know the real me.” He realized she couldn't breathe when he held her that way, so he adjusted so she could lay her head on his shoulder.

“You were the real you all the time. You've been the same sweet man I met on accident a year ago.”

“That's nice to hear. Though, you are nowhere near knowing the real me.”

“I will. Eventually. And it'll be fun to get to know him. This is fun. You're really, really good at it.”

"If you could say that one more time, louder, please.” They laughed together, and then, when the laughter subsided, he kissed her, again, like he was kissing her for the first time.

“Joshua...”

“Hmmm...”

“You don't look like Rick Astley. At all. Never say that again. Mkay?”

He laughed. He forgot he said he looked like Rick Astley. “I was kind of joking, anyway, but yeah it was just the first thing that came to mind.”

“Must have been. I was so expecting this little British man with like... big teeth and and milky skin. You're way hotter than Rick Astley.” She threw a leg over him and dragged her body over his until she was laying on top of him.

“Oh, am I, now?” he asked, smiling so his eyes disappeared.

"It's been 20 minutes already, right?"

You've Got Mail

Part 6

He woke up alone, the sheets gathered around him as if she had tucked him in when she got up. He heard a TV, though the volume was low, and dishes clanging and water running, and smelled food. His stomach rumbled. With a satisfied sigh, he untucked himself, pulled on a pair of sweat pants and stumbled out of the bedroom.

“What are you making?” he said, leaning onto the counter, his voice gravelly and still thick with sleep.

She jumped at the sound of his voice. “SHIT! You scared me!” She laughed as she clutched her chest. “Eggs. And waffles and turkey bacon. Do you like turkey bacon?”

“I will eat just about everything. Don't worry about me at all. Not picky.” He came around the counter and hugged her from behind. He moved her hair aside so he could kiss her neck and shoulder, then spotted the full coffeepot. “Ooh, coffee.”

“You're so easily distracted,” she said, handing him a clean mug so he could pour himself some. “Get out of here, there's really only room for one. Almost done, though.”

“Fine. I'm going. You need me to take Bruno out?”

“No, he's good. We just got back from a walk a bit ago, and he should be nice and full. Plant your ass.”

He obeyed and lounged on the couch, smoothing down the caramel fur of the large, heavy animal that had climbed up on the couch with him, flipping through the cable channels between various stations. When breakfast was ready, she set the dining room table and they ate and talked and listened to the news.

It was refreshing to him to not have so much....space. His house wasn't huge by Hollywood standards, but it was quite a bit larger than her apartment, though it didn't seem to affect him. He moved about easily and was comfortable and at home, there. Shannon kept a clean, inviting, warm home that he rather liked, so he pitched in after breakfast to help her clear away the dishes and the clutter that came with having an extra person in the house.

The afternoon sun beat down on them as she and Bruno took him on a long, winding tour of the city, and then crossed the border into Vancouver. "Some weekend, when you want to camp, we can drive up to the Gorge, and Multnomah Falls. There's like camping and kayaking and hiking and stuff.”

“Sounds like fun. Like a summer kinda thing.”

“Spring, late spring, summer. Or Fall. Whenever. Yeah.”

“So you're banking on me being around for awhile?” She glanced over at him and noticed his smug grin.

She adjusted her sunglasses, and sped down the highway. “If I have anything to say about it, we're gonna know each other for a long, LONG time.”

Dinner was sushi at one of her favorite restaurants because they allowed dogs. Her usual table on the patio was open and Bruno instinctively led her there, curling up in his corner to lounge in the sun.

“So do you go anywhere without the dog?” he teased.

“Rarely. But mostly because I'm alone so often-- that's why I got him, I was lonely. Does it bug you?”

“Not at all. Be yourself. I was just wondering. He's such a good dog, he like, picks up on routines and stuff. He'd be a good seeing eye dog, maybe.”

“Yeah, if I go blind, I'm set for life.”

“Way to think optimistically!”

She laughed, and opened her menu. He opened his but he wasn't really reading it. He was thinking. Thinking about how nice it was to be with her, here, away from everything that was mundane and regular and everyday about his life, even though his life wasn't so everyday and mundane and regular anymore. Thinking about the sound of her laughter-- hell the sound of her VOICE-- and tried to record it in his memory so he could play it back when he went home. Thinking about the night before and how much he liked her and liked being with her and liked how different it felt to be with someone you cared about.

"Joshua? You know what you want?” Her voice interrupted his thoughts, and he glanced up to find the waitress, notepad in hand, waiting for his order.

“Uhm...” said the waitress, pointing. “You're... I... aren't you...?”

“Yes, you know me. Can you keep it quiet? Please? I'm enjoying my vacation. I'll have the number three combo and we'll get a bottle of Sake. Thanks.” He handed her his menu with a wink and a smile and she bounced away.

“Does that ever work? Keep it quiet?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes I just give them a look and they turn around and walk off. Don't look at me like that, I know it's mean, just... some days I don't want to be me.”

“I didn't know I was looking at you 'some way'. I'll just.. turn off my face.”

“Sorry... Shannon. I'm sorry. I don't mean to snap. I'm just kinda on edge.”

“Joshua, this is Portland, Oregon. Woodstock Avenue. It's not like you're gonna get mobbed. Relax, okay? You're fine. We're having a good day.”

She reached across the table and stroked his arm gently, softly. The touch of her fingers against his skin made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, calming himself. When his anxiety had passed, he opened his eyes to find her studying him.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Yes, I am. I just don't want anything to ruin this time with you. I've been looking forward to it for awhile.”

“Nothing is gonna ruin this time. We're okay. Our food is here!” Her face lit up as the waitress approached with two trays and their bottle of Sake. She reached into her apron pocket and tossed a dog bone at Bruno, then smiled at each of them and left them to their dinner.

Shannon's mother, Edie, lived near the restaurant. She couldn't help but stop by for a few minutes and say hello, and he wanted to pay his respects and see how she was doing. Edie hugged him tight, thanking him again for coming to the services earlier that year. She showed him the lovely, ornate Urn that adorned the fireplace, next to a portrait of her mother, Shannon's grandmother. Shannon had her eyes, and both Edie and Shannon had her wavy, flowing hair. Shannon talked about her so much that he felt he knew her, though he'd never met her, so to stand at her urn and look at her photo was more emotional than he expected it to be.

“Ready?” she whispered, grasping his hand. “My mom's got to head to work, soon.”

“Yeah,” he said, letting her lead him back out to the car.

That night, and the next day, and the day after, someone else might describe as nothing special. Nothing exciting. Boring, even. To him, each new day brought an adventure and a day he hadn't lived, before. She was energetic and playful, a vibrant, happy person that he really enjoyed being around. Their days were filled with visits to the places she loved to go, and the things she loved to do, with long spans of time for lounging and relaxing and satisfaction of cravings and desires in between. He didn't know if he would ever get enough of her-- he hoped not. He hoped he would always long for her, always want to be with her, to touch her, to make her smile and laugh and squeal and writhe and shudder in pleasure. He hated to even think about going back home. So he didn't.

The day of his return flight came and went. He had nothing but the everyday to get back to. She had nothing but her everyday to endure, with her only connection to him being an email address and, on occasion, a webcam connection. She would much rather have him there, in person, so though she knew he was supposed to have gone home, she didn't push him to leave.

“So are you making sure to refill her pantry? I'm sure you're eating her out of house and home.”

“Mom, I'm not rude. I'm taking care of all of that, for sure.”

“Just making sure. It's a mom thing. You're already staying longer than you intended. How do you know she doesn't want you to leave?”

“She doesn't act like she wants me to leave.”

“I'm not gonna get into how you know that, just... you know... be a good boy.”

“I am, I am. How are you guys? When do you leave for Orlando?”

He pulled at the leash and Bruno wandered over to him, happily sniffing and snorting. He caught up with his mom, talked to his dad, and confirmed plans for the Thanksgiving holiday. For all he knew, he'd be flying direct from Portland to Orlando. He really had no desire to leave, soon.

“My mom says hi, and to tell me to be a good boy, and replenish all the food I'm eating, and for you to tell me to get the fuck out when you're sick of me.” He released Bruno from the leash and hung it on the hook next to the door. Bruno headed for his usual spot-- underneath Shannon's computer table, and dropped heavily onto her feet.

“Pretty much never gonna happen,” she said, concentrating on the web page she was working with. “The 'get the fuck out' part. The other part, I do need to shop tomorrow. We're gonna be eating cake mix and powdered cheese tomorrow night if I don't.”

“That doesn't sound good. Let me know how much you need,” he offered, nonchalant as he lounged on the couch, feet up on the coffee table and opened one of the many texts she had piled up on the table.

She whipped around, her eyes wide. “Oh my God! I wasn't hinting at you giving me money. I swear. I'm so sorry...”

“Oh my God! I know. But when you meet my mom, I want you to be able to say I bought you groceries and not lie.”

She stared for a moment, and then went back to her work.

“Shannon.”

“Shannon.”

“Shannon.”

“Shannon. I know you hear me. I'm gonna keep calling you till you answer me.” He balled up a piece of paper and tossed it at her. It bounced off of her head and landed on the keyboard.

“What?!” she answered with a smile, the kind that made her eyes disappear, and threw it back at him. He made no attempt to duck it. It hit him square in the forehead and rolled down his body.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I just didn't realize I was meeting your mom.”

“Eventually. Is that okay?”

“That's more than okay. I mean, you met mine. I'm looking forward to it.” 

He would have liked her to come with him, meet the family, have some fun in Florida, but he knew it would be the first holiday without her grandma, and it would be selfish to take her away from her mom. He was tempted, but she'd never say yes and even if she did, he'd never do that to Edie. As much as he hated to go, he dragged himself out of her car and into the airport in just enough time to check in and catch his flight.

The barrage of questions started almost as soon as he hit the door at Heather's.

“So, how's Shannon?”

“Do we get to meet Shannon?”

“What'd you do up there for three weeks?”

“Didn't she get sick of you?”

“So you really like her, huh?”

“Look, everybody... relax,” he said, finally. “When I'm ready to talk about Shannon, I will. I'm not ready, so just... relax.”

Subject: My family...

They're driving me nuts, about you. I'm not ready to share.

How's your turkey day?

Joshua

Subject: Re: My family...

I'm a pig. I ate a lot. We had a pretty good day. Mom invited her neighbors over, and they're a ton of fun. It really helped to take our minds off of stuff. And now I have leftovers forever.

How was your day, with your family? What are they asking?

I miss having you here. I had the best time with you. I don't know why you say you're boring-- I find you fascinating. : )

Have a good night, sweet goof!

Shannon

Subject: Re: Re: My family...

I'm happy to hear you guys had a good day, and that it wasn't sad.  I miss being up there. Give Bruno a pat for me. 

The day was good, just lots of questions. Stupid questions. What'd I do for three weeks? Stuff. Geez.

Thanks for not thinking I'm boring. I think you're obligated to think that, though.

I'm goin' out. Talk to you tomorrow, sleep good.

 Joshua

Thanksgiving weekend would normally be a hot weekend for him. He no longer lived in Florida, so he didn't feel bad about meeting a girl and hooking up with her and then never seeing her again. That was a Thanksgiving weekend pastime that had been a part of his life. Now he couldn't imagine doing that. He and Shannon hadn't made any kind of agreement on exclusivity-- there was no commitment, really. Just having fun and spending time together, which worked for the time being. He just didn't find any of the girls interesting. The girls that danced closely, rubbing themselves against him, or the girls that smiled too wide and laughed too loud and hinted that he could have it if he wanted it sort of amused him and stopped just short of making him feel sick. Thank God Chris was there to be funny and distracting. He made a big show out of talking and laughing with Chris, pretending not to see the ever pressing crowd of pretty and available women surrounding him. Women that weren't Shannon.

“So what's up with this girl? Lance said you spent like three weeks up there with her.” Chris' beady little eyes danced about the club, watching the crowd move to the beat of the rhythm thumping from the speakers.

“Lance has a big mouth,” he said, taking a swig of his beer.

“Is he lyin'?”

“No. He just has a big mouth.”

“So? What's up? You met her by email? Do you know how dangerous that is? Did she know who you were?”

“Yes. Yes. No.”

Chris nudged him, a sly grin on his face. “Why you being so secretive, C?”

“Because I... don't want to share her. I don't want to share anything about her. She's for me. She's mine. MINE!” He laughed as Chris shook his head and drained his glass.

“Seriously. She's a nice girl. Yeah, we met by email. She has this friend whose email address is like, a number off of mine. She sent me like, two emails that were meant for him, and I finally sent her one back that was like, you know, 'wrong number'  or whatever. So  she wrote back and was like 'oh shit, thanks'. Then a couple of weeks later she wrote me, like 'so who the hell are you?' and we started emailing and here we are like a year and something months later.”

“How long did you guys talk before you met her? Did you know what she looked like before you met her? And I mean... did you tell her who you were?”

He shook his head, peeling the label off of the bottle and shredding it to pieces. “Nah I kept that from her for a long time. She sent me pictures of her, and her dog. You gotta see this dog, And uhm... you know, she knew something was up-- I wouldn't ever send her a picture or tell her anything of substance, of value, you know? She held out though, and waited till I couldn't stand to not tell her. We just...talked all the time about, like... everything and I felt stupid hiding so much from her. We had talked for like, nine or ten months when I told her.”

Chris took a sip of his drink and nodded, then glanced sideways at him. “And then you met her?”

“Yeah uhm... her grandma is like super important to her. They were really close, she and her mom and grandma-- and when her grandma died I just felt so bad and I didn't feel like I was a good friend if I didn't go up there for the service. I mean she's listened to me whine and bitch and moan for almost a year and never complained and any time, day or night, she'd listen, you know? Give me good feedback not 'aw, I'm so sorry, wanna hear about my issues now?' She'd really listen, and I was like, sitting at home playing video games and eating cookies and shit and she was up there with her world falling apart. I just didn't feel at ease till I was there.”

“That's cool. She sounds like a cool girl. So is she hot?”

He shook his head, rolled his eyes and finished the bottle. Kirkpatrick frequently only had one thing on the brain, and it was showing.

“Chris-- man, shut up. Yeah, she's hot. She's also nice. And sweet. And a good friend to me, so it's about more than just being hot.” Chris nodded and waved at the waitress for another drink. Chris was hitting the Jack and Coke hard. He made a note to himself to drive him home, whether he liked it or not.

“So you uh...” he tapped the counter and raised his eyebrows. “Have you?”

“Have I? What?”

Chris nudged him. “You know what. Have you?”

He tried not to smile but it escaped. He knew he was blushing, and Chris was making that immature “O“ face from Office Space that no one but him understood. Sometimes he wondered if Chris ever matured past 14.

“I spent three weeks up there, man. What do you think?” Chris shrugged and put on his best innocent face.

“And?”

“And that's all I'm saying. You already got more than Lance did. He's been asking me everyday.”

“I wanna see her. Do you have a picture?”

“Not on me. On my computer. Later, man. Later. So what's up with the band? You guys releasing soon or what?” 

After dropping Chris off (despite Chris' argument, he managed to wrangle the keys from him and shove him into his car and take him home) he headed back to Heather's, where the family was still awake. They stopped talking as soon as he entered the room. They were likely discussing him, and no doubt, Shannon.

“What's up? You guys talking about me?” He dropped heavily into the chair next to his mom.

“Maybe,” Tyler answered, shoving a cookie in his mouth.

“Fine, what do you want to know?” He wiggled his fingers toward the cookie tray and Tyler slid it over.

“Well, what do you want us to know?” his mom asked. “We’re just curious. You seem happy but really really secretive, which makes us think something is up that we shouldn't know about... like we might object to something.”

He bit the head off of a sugar cookie snowman and chewed. “There's nothing to object to. Shannon is a regular girl. Ten fingers, ten toes. Just... very normal. And she just... she's like... special to me. I don't want everyone knowing everything about her and asking random stuff about her, all the time. We're just having fun, spending time together, and getting to know each other, no big deal right now.”

“Well I'm gonna ask the question no one wants to ask,” said Heather. “How much money have you spent on her? I mean, really think about it. Does she drop hints about things and you just pay for them? Do you send her a lot of things?”

 "Heather..."

"I'm just asking, because you know how he is. He's way too nice and he gets taken advantage of and then mopes for five years about it. Great, he's happy-- how long, this time?"

He stalled for time while picking a piece of cookie out of his teeth.

“That's bullshit, and none of your business, ” he finally said. “She's not like that, and whether I sent her books or a Tiffany necklace or a plane ticket to come see me, it's none of your business where my money goes or how much I spend on her and don't bring it up again. Am I clear?”

 “Josh...” his dad said, a hand on his arm.

“Come on, you guys. I'm not an idiot. I hope when you guys meet her, because you will, that you can pretend to be nice and not try to figure out how much she's trying to take me for. She's not like that. I bought her groceries, a couple dinners, bringing her out to see me. Some books. Some candy. That's it. Hardly anything to get suspicious over.”

The room was quiet. An ice cube fell from the ice maker into the bin. Tyler belched and Heather smacked the back of his head. He was the first to laugh, breaking the tension.

“Look you guys-- thank you for caring. Really. I appreciate it, and I know the email thing is weird but... you guys are just gonna have to trust me. I'm going upstairs to send her an email, and then I'm going to bed. Don't wake me up tomorrow-- and that means YOU!” He pointed at Tyler, and then, satisfied that he'd made his point, escaped to his bedroom.

Subject: Good to be home...

I just wish home was Portland, instead of LA. LA is really bugging me lately. Maybe after being away for awhile, I just don't have the same love for this city anymore.

However, once I got here, I realized I have to be here to work. I'm totally backed up on writing projects I've been ignoring, and I have a couple of meetings to talk about a record deal. Cross your fingers for me, okay?

Do you think you wanna come down here, sometime? Experience the joy that is California smog, where everyone's famous?

Joshua

Subject: Re: Good to be home...

Aw, it's good to be back though, in your own bed and own house and own stuff, though isn't it? I always love coming back home after a long trip.

I will cross my fingers on both hands for you. I hope you have good meetings. Any indication if they're really serious, or if it's just a formality?

I have never been down there-- I'd love to come. Just give me plenty of notice so I can clear some things off my schedule and arrange for someone to take care of Bruno.

Shannon

Subject: Re: Re: Good to be home...

Bruno can come, too. I'll let you know some good times as soon as I have a handle on what's going on. And plan on being here for a bit, like a week or so. Maybe after New Year? Christmas is too close. Anything in mind that I can get you, by the way?

The meetings, probably a formality, but any kind of talking where they aren't saying no is a good thing to me. Hopefully some good will come of it.

I gotta hit this stack, mama. I'll hit you up later.

Have a good day.

Joshua

Subject: Christmas

I so don’t need anything, Lord knows. If you’re determined to get me something, I loved the books of paintings you sent… they’re a series, aren’t they? More of those would be great. Thank you. : )

After New Year would be perfect. Just let me know. Looking forward to it.

Do good, ya goof!

Shannon

He was optimistic about his meetings. If things went right, he would have a chance at a relevant career. He'd never be as big as he was before, but he could do what he loved, and be supported, and not sit on his music anymore. He tired of writing songs for other people, songs that belonged to him, belonged to his voice. All he wanted was one GOOD chance at making it again. Just one.

He was far more excited about Shannon coming to visit, though it would mean everyone there would want to meet her. After a few months of being well aware that he really cared about her and having her to himself for awhile, he was finally ready to share her-- a little. It would be weeks before she came to visit, and he counted everyday until the day of her arrival. When it finally came, he nervously arranged and rearranged and cleaned and wiped and straightened and paced and chewed his thumb in nervousness on the drive to the airport.

Photographers, paparazzi, bathtub scum, whatever they were called, were lounging near baggage claim, waiting for anyone familiar. He didn't really want to get out of the car, for fear they'd see him and then snag a photo of him with Shannon. He wanted to protect her, as much as he could and as long as he could, from that part of his world. He should have told her to take a taxi but he wanted to pick her up. He made Tyler come with him so he could go in and help her with her bags and Bruno. He sent her a text to tell her they'd arrived, and to look for Tyler, and then sent Tyler inside to look for her.

It didn't take long before he saw her come out of the double sliding doors, bag on one arm and hauling a rolling suitcase. Tyler was close behind, dragging a pet carrier and being pulled by Bruno. Tyler pointed toward the parking structure and he drove around to pick them up at the entrance.

Tyler looked rather uncomfortable, between a large dog and a pet carrier in the backseat, but he wouldn't hear of Shannon sitting back there. “Go ahead, I'll make Josh make this up to me,” he said, climbing into the back seat and settling next to Bruno. Shannon sat in the front seat and they pulled away from the curb, relatively unnoticed by any cameras.

“How was your flight? You doing okay?”

“It was good. Short. I didn't expect it to be that short, like a couple of hours. I might have to come down more often if it's that easy.” She winked in his direction and he grinned.

“You're more than welcome down here, any time. So, I figured we could get the 'I wanna meet her' thing over and done with, already. My friends made some dinner and everyone's at the house waiting, so... sorry to do that to ya but it will save having to do it later.”

“I'm totally cool with that. I'm alright.” She turned around to check the backseat, and found Bruno practically sitting on Tyler, and licking his hand. “Bruno, make room!” she ordered, and he obeyed, sitting up in the seat.

“Wow, he understands that?”

“He hogs everything he lays on... the bed, the couch, everything. Make room is my way of saying 'move your ass!' He knows what I mean.”

“Isn't that the biggest dog you've ever seen, Ty?”

“Huge. His paw could totally crush my throat.”

“Yeah, but he's such a sweetheart. And under the impression that he's a puppy, still, so he will try to sit on you.”

He wanted, very badly, for everyone to like her, like he did. For everyone to understand her, like he did and for them to get that she ‘got him’, like he did. For everyone to get that the reason he was less mopey and less bored and less… unhappy, really… was because of her.

After a very successful dinner and introduction to everyone close to him, some dispersed to their homes, a few stayed behind for drinks out by the pool. It was a nice evening, warm but cooling off fast. The pool heater hummed just under the tone of the music crackling from the patio speakers, and the water in the pool lapped against the edge in rhythmic fashion. Tyler rolled up his pant legs and sat on the edge, his feet kicking up the water. Bruno was beside himself, wanting to jump into the pool but obeying Shannon’s stern ‘no’. He whined and paced and finally sat next to the edge, his eyes watching Tyler’s legs and feet move the water around. An occasional low bark punctuated the conversation, followed by a boyish giggle.

He nodded toward them and glanced at Shannon.

“T-Shaz likes your dog.”

“I think Bruno is equally admiring of Tyler. He takes to people so well.”

“He really should have bit my ass when I showed up in Oregon and we hadn’t even met, yet.”

“Aw, he knows good people. He’s got a great sixth sense that way.” Shannon shivered, the night air growing cooler than she could handle.

He stood and offered a hand to her, helped her up from the low lounge chair. “You wanna go in? Let’s go in, find a chick flick romantic comedy for you to watch. What do you wanna watch, Steel Magnolias? The Ya Ya Sisters of the Traveling Pants—do those chicks all wear the same pants?”

“What’s funny is that you make fun of these movies but you know the titles of them. You’ve seen them all, haven’t you?”

 “You’d be surprised how much of that shit I’ve seen.” They stepped inside the house and he slid the patio door closed behind them.

“Is he gonna be okay with Bruno? Should I bring him in?”

“Nah, he’ll be fine. Ty’s great with dogs. Come check out the dog dish I got, just for the boy.”

After the movie and coffee and dessert and laughing and more talking, they disappeared upstairs for some time alone. And much later, as they lay together, he stared at the ceiling and listened to her deep breathing, smelled the scent of her shampoo, felt the smooth, supple touch of her skin under his fingers. He couldn't recall feeling this before. If this was happy, he liked it and he wanted to stay there.  

You've Got Mail

Ch. 7

The week that Shannon stayed with him in LA, the week that she brought a smile to his face and seemed to brighten the air in the house by just being there, the week that his friends fell in love with her, the week that he fell in love with her, too, turned out much better than he thought it would- and he thought it might turn out pretty great. 

He spent the week showing her the best and worst of Los Angeles and Hollywood. His favorite hangouts and shopping areas, where he saw movies, where he ate lunch and dinner a lot, where he and Tyler sat and had beers and reflected on life and love. She met everyone who insisted on meeting her with a bright smile and ready laughter. She seemed comfortable with him, friendly and outgoing with his friends, already a part of his life. He could just barely remember a time when he didn't know her... and now he had to put her on a plane and send her home. 

He drove, slowly, to the airport, watched Tyler escort her and Bruno inside, then come back out and slide back into the passenger seat.

“She's on her way. I left her at the security gate and they were coming to get Bruno when I walked off. She said to tell you thanks and she'll call you when she gets home. She kinda was tearing up. She gave me a hug.”

He nodded and pulled away from the curb. Quiet. Pensive. He missed her, already.

After a few minutes of silence, not even the radio playing, no inane chatter that had become the usual for the two of them, Tyler asked, “So, you think you like her?”

A few more minutes of silence, deep contemplation, musing, and then he answered matter-of-factly. “I think I love her.”

Tyler studied him, to see if he was serious. Surely, he was joking, about being in love with the woman from email. “Like, love her? Like in love with her?”

He nodded. “Love her, like in love with her. Yeah." He drove with one hand and hung the other out the window, feeling the breeze blow through his fingers. Yeah. He loved her.

"You gonna tell her?" Tyler asked, watching the landscape speed by.

"Eventually. " His hand rode the wind like a surfer on a wave as he sped down the freeway

"You think she feels the same?"

"I don't know. I think so but... I don't know."

It took a few days for it to really sink in, that he loved her. He didn't necessarily WANT to be in love with her, this woman he met on accident one day. It would certainly be easier to fall for someone he hadn't met over email and who didn't live so far away. He wasn't sure how to tell her or if he should tell her or if she would even want to hear it, but if or when he did, it damn sure wasn't going to be over the email.

They decided, over the week, to see each other more often. The beauty of her job was that she didn't punch a time clock, or have a steady schedule. As long as she had her laptop and Internet access, she could work from anywhere. She could move things around and spend time wherever she wanted, whenever she wanted to-- a perk they both wanted to take advantage of. Working, for her, meant sitting at the computer, but she could also be watching a movie with him, or listening to music with him, or talking to him, so even if she was working, he could hang out. If he was working, she could do the same-- or find a quiet corner and plug in and...well.. work. He wasn't seeing anyone else, and neither was she, but if they were going to go through the trouble of rearranging schedules, then they were more than email buddies by that point, and each wanted to treat it as such. At some point during one of their visits, he was sure the right moment to tell her would come up. And then he could say it. And maybe hear it back.

But it didn't. It didn't happen on his next trip up to Oregon. Nor on her next trip down to California. Nor on the trips after that-- not the weekend they met in Seattle and stood in the wind off of the Puget Sound, when he wanted to shout it over the water and into the mountains;  not the week in New York that he spent recording and brought her with him so she could see a 'real live Broadway show', when he wanted to stand in Times Square and tell everyone he saw that he loved the woman he was with; not in Vegas, standing with her in front of the Bellagio, watching the Water Works show, when he wanted to take her in his arms and whisper in her ear over and over and over 'I love you'; not the camping trip at the Gorge or the weekend he tipped the kayak at the Falls and she laughed so hard she cried, and he wanted to just take that quiet minute when they stared at each other, surrounded by water crashing down from up above and a lush green forest, to say it. To finally say it. But didn't. 

For months, he kept his secret, let it grow. It was almost suffocating, the words always sitting at the top of his throat, on the tip of his tongue. Maybe she was waiting on him to say something? Maybe she didn't think it needed to be said?  He tried to treat her like he felt it, and he felt like if he said it, he would hear it back, but at the end of every trip, those words hung in the air, neither of them willing to say it.

His album was dropping soon--  all hell was about to break loose. He wanted her to know, before things got stupid, before things changed, before a lot of people would find out, that even though they wouldn't be able to see each other very often, that he loved her and he would be thinking about her. He couldn't delay it much longer. He needed her to know. He wanted time with her, while she knew, and no one else did. He was just going to have to make the move and be the first to say it.

Subject: I need to come up.

Maybe this weekend. That okay?

Joshua

Subject: Re: I need to come up.

No problem. Anything wrong?

Shannon

Subject: Re: Re: I need to come up

No, nothing wrong.

I just need to see you before my world goes crazy. Make sure you know some stuff.

 Joshua

Subject: Well, come on up!

Just let me know what time to pick you up.

Shannon

Right there would be where he'd say 'I love you, see you soon'. But he couldn't, because he hadn't said the words yet and didn't want to type them to her for the first time. He wanted her to hear the words come out of his mouth. He wanted to see her face when he said it. And he wanted to hear the words back-- I love you, too.

So he'd flown up to Oregon, and they'd had a great, relaxing dinner and walked Bruno and laughed and talked and hugged and kissed and had very enjoyable and satisfying sex, the kind that would keep him in a good mood the next day and probably a few days after, and still he hadn't said anything. Then they'd hung out and watched movies and shopped and he'd helped her hang a shelf and amused her with funny songs while she waited for the oil to be changed in her car, and then ordered Chinese, and had the kind of sex you brag about, except he wouldn't, but he'd remember for a long time, or for at least a few weeks, and he still hadn't said anything.

It seemed ironic to him that if he didn't want this, that he wouldn't have been able to avoid it. That had happened once, or twice. When he really liked someone but didn't exactly love her, and she'd been disappointed to see his blank stare after she mustered up the courage to say it, and how she usually stormed off, hurt, and despite wanting to go after her, he didn't, because it wasn't like he could say he loved her back. If he'd didn't want this with Shannon, so very badly-- if she'd been the kind of woman he spent time with because she was a warm body, and he was lonely, and he wanted it, she'd have been all over him and falling in love with him too soon and too much and would have been smothering him with 'I Love You' for months. But since he did want this with Shannon, so very badly, he couldn't make it happen. He could not leave Portland without saying it. He wouldn't let himself.

“Joshua, can I ask you something?” Her fingernails traced a pattern in the hair on his chest as they laid next to each other, enjoying the after glow.

“Hmmm?”

“Do you... do you have something you want to tell me? You've been looking like you want to say something all weekend and I've been scared to ask because I thought maybe you wanted to stop dating, because of your album coming out and your schedule getting really busy. Is that what you want to say? ”

This was it. An opening if he ever wished for one, and he had wished for one. Several times.

“Uhm,” he started, pushing himself up to a sitting position. She sat up as well, pulling the sheet up around her, concern-- no, fear-- in her eyes. He hated to make her look at him like that, so he wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible, get on the other side of saying the words and get back to living life and loving her.

“I don't... I'm not breaking up or anything. Don't look so scared. Just uhm... I'm about to get really busy, and I'm gonna do my best to still see you and talk to you when I can. But uhm. There's something I want you to know before things go all... stupid. Uhm....”

She reached over to him, took a hand and held it tightly, but didn't say a word. Whatever he had to say, she had the patience to wait it out.

“Uhm. So. I love you. A lot. I have for awhile. Since the first time you came to California. So. There it is. What I wanted to say. What I've wanted to say and haven't and I'm sorry for waiting so long but... well there it is.”

She didn't say anything. She just stared, wide-eyed. He stared back.  For a long time. Minutes. Minutes are long, when there's silence, but instead of silence you expected to hear 'oh my God, I love you, too.' Except he wasn't hearing that. He was looking at her and she wasn't saying anything. She was getting up. Out of the bed and walking out of the room. And he sat there, wondering if he shouldn't have said anything. And if he should go after her. Because he most certainly loved her and this time he could say it. He had said it.

She came back into the room, pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, a pair of slip on sandals and walked back out. He heard her open the door and take Bruno out. He sat in the bed, in the same spot and looked around the room, thinking. So... maybe she didn't love him. Or... maybe she didn't know what to say? But why not just say 'wow, I don't know what to say'? Why leave?

He decided to go after her. He got out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans and a shirt and shoes and walked out of the apartment, down the stairs to the back where she knew he would find her and Bruno. He found her, her brown hair still in a tangled mess from earlier, staring at the ground, limply holding onto the leash while Bruno rooted around her. When he finished, he nudged her hand with his nose, and she gripped the leash and turned back toward the building. Then she saw him, and stopped, but Bruno kept going. The leash flew out of her hands but she didn't seem to notice. Bruno bounded toward him and he stopped him, picking up the leash.

They stood, staring at each other, the flat amber shine from the breezeway and the illuminating glow of the full moon offering the only lighting. The night air was soundless and crisp, not even the crickets were out. A light breeze blew across his neck, and he wondered how long they would stand there before one of them made a move.

Then, in the first deja vu moment he'd had in a very long time, she ran toward him, into his open arms. He wrapped both arms around her, tightly, held her as tight as he could. He didn't know how long they stood there... he didn't care. He'd stand there all night if she needed him to. Except it was cold, freezing cold, and he wanted to talk.

“It's cold out here. Let's get you inside,” he said, leaving an arm around her and guiding her toward the building. They climbed the stairs, Bruno panting ahead of them, and walked into her apartment. He unleashed Bruno, hung the leash, and sent Bruno to his plus corner of the world.

She still stood in the middle of the living room, dazed. He ran a hand down the back of her head, smoothing her hair down. “Where do you want to talk? 'Cause we definitely need to talk.”

She sniffled. “Let's go back to bed,” she said, with a laugh. So they did. They got undressed and took off their shoes and climbed back under the covers. She laid her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, the tickle of her eyelashes brushing against his skin as she blinked.  He ran his fingers through her wavy hair, untangling it as he went.

“So,” he said quietly, “was that not what you wanted to hear? You can be honest, I can take it.”

She rolled her head to kiss the skin that was under her cheek. “That was so the opposite of anything I was expecting to hear from you. I was SURE you came up here to dump me. And I kept waiting for it and waiting for it, and even though I was sure it was happening, I still wanted like, one last time with you. When you sat up, I was like 'God this is really over.' Then you said 'So, I love you', and I like... my brain broke. It's like 'that's so not what I expected to hear.' I needed to think, and I couldn't just sit there, and stare at you while I thought about it and tried to go from 'shit I don't want to lose this guy' to 'oh yeah, he totally loves me'.

He tucked her hair behind her ear and kept smoothing it down. He almost had all the tangles out, from that side. “Why would I dump you? Like fly up here to dump you? And go to dinner with you and laugh with you and have the world's greatest sex ever with you and then dump you?”

“It's not like that shit doesn't happen, J. The male species doesn't make much sense. You guys are all crazy, remember?”

“No, I think it was girls that were crazy, but don't think they're crazy. Running off to go walk the dog, in the cold, and stand there for like, 10 minutes in 40 degree weather --knowing full well I'm from California and 40 degrees is COLD to me--”

She caught a fold of skin between her thumb and finger and twisted. He cried out in pain and then laughed.“Is there a point coming?”

“Yeah, my point is that could could have just said it, and we could have laid here in the bed together all nice and warm, saying it to each other all night.” He felt her eyelashes flutter on his skin as she blinked a few times. “That is, if you feel that. And you want to. Say it, I mean.”

She sat up, then, looking down on him, her hair now smooth and untangled, cascading down one side. She ran a finger down the center of his chest. "The more I got to know you the more I wanted you to love me, but then you never said anything, so I never said anything..."

“And I never said anything because you never said anything...” He caught her hand and held it close to his chest. “Well, so... do you? I mean... I'm not trying to be pushy here, but...well do you?”

She tossed her hair back over her shoulder and suppressed a nervous giggle, her bottom lip caught between her teeth. Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling fan above them and she seemed to be willing herself to say something.

“Shannon!” he said, lightly smacking her thigh.

She licked her lips and smiled, a big smile, so her eyes disappeared, and then mouthed 'Yeah'.

He sat up, then, and faced her, then rested his forehead on hers and closed his eyes. “Could you say it?” he whispered.

“I love you, Joshua,” she whispered back.

Then and only then could he let out the breath he was holding, had held so long his chest was tight. The anticipation of hearing those words nearly killed him-- he thought he'd pass out before he got her to say them.

“That's all I wanted to hear. Thank you.”

“I could say it again, if you want.”

“You can say it as many times as you want, sweetheart. As many times as you want. And then you can email it to me.”

“I love you. Bruno loves you, too.” He laughed, then kissed her. Kissed her long and sweet and held onto her like he would never let her go. The sex this time was slow and sensual and different, with whispers of 'I love you' folding into the movements, the embraces, the intimate touches. He made up for all the times he wanted to say it and didn't. Could have said it but chose not to. Now he could say it, over and over and over. And hear it back.

It wasn't the first time he'd heard it. It just somehow meant more, now. This was just different. It felt different. He loved different. He felt loved in a different way.

He liked this. He loved her. 

When he finally rolled over and gathered her to him, closed his arms around her as she drifted off to sleep, visions of his life and what had become of it, since that day he got an email that wasn't meant for him, danced through his head.  It was a day like any other, which were mostly the same, but would change the course of his life so much that now, many many months later, he didn't live the same routine, he didn't have the same mundane schedule. He no longer went the same places and did the same things. There was no more monotony, no droll boringness of his everyday. He woke up excited. He went to bed, excited. He felt fulfilled. He felt loved and like he had a life to lead, and a life to enjoy and a CAREER.

He breathed deeply, smiling. He made it to the other side of I Love You, and held Shannon in his arms, with a brand new everyday to look forward to.

 Epilogue

Subject: I wish...

I wish you could see this view, from here. It's pretty amazing.

Joshua

Subject: Re: I wish...

Well, let me finish up this page and I'll be right out.

Shannon

He set the light notebook down on the patio table next to him and picked up his beer, stretching his legs out in front of him. He was tired. But the good kind of tired. The work-his-ass-off-day-and-night-for-months-and-finally-got-a-good-break kind of tired. The closing on the house was perfect timing, though, right as his tour ended. They were lucky to find it, and fell in love with it as soon as they pulled into the driveway. Now he sat on the porch outside their new house, with a great view of the lushest green forest he had ever seen, and downtown Portland as a backdrop. It made for a nice getaway, when he was tired of the world and the routine and the business. It seemed like he wasn't even really living unless he was there, with her.

He heard the door slide open behind him, and the tinkle of Bruno's dog tags as they bounced against each other, then felt soft, sweet lips on his cheek and the faint scent of green apple.

“Mail for you,” she said, dropping a stack of envelopes in his lap. “And my ring is ready. Can we go get it?”

“Thanks. Sure, whenever you're ready.”

“Okay. I want to enjoy this view you raved about first,” she said, swinging her feet up and sitting cross legged in her chair.

He flipped through his mail, mostly junk, and set it on the table between them.

“Do you ever think about what it would be like if you hadn't sent me that email? The one you sent a couple weeks after I told you had the wrong address?”

“Nope.” 

He glanced over at her, studying her. She was serious, it seemed. “Never?”

“Never. I figure things happen for a reason. No sense wasting my time wondering what would have happened if I did something else. And it worked out. Right?” She leaned her head against the back of her chair, her face tilted toward him. Her pretty face, with big brown eyes and lashes that curled up and full, pink lips with the cupids bow that he loved to--- Whoa. Down boy. At least until later.

“We'd better go pick up your ring or we're not leaving the house today,” he said, standing and stretching his arms out, marveling at how well he could breathe and how clear the sky was.

“I don't mind not leaving the house today,” she said. “We still have a lot of time to make up for.”

“Don't tempt me. Come on, Bruno.”

The ring fit perfectly, now, after having it sized. The platinum band had been polished to a lustrous shine and the classic princess cut diamond glinted in the sunlight whenever she moved her hand-- to drive, to eat, to stroke the stubble on his cheek whenever the urge arose, which was often.

“It was awesome of Edie to let you have your grandma's wedding set.”

“Yeah, I always did love it,” she said, smiling and staring at it, moving her hand around so the light bounced off of the many facets.

“It's practically antique. They cleaned it up nice for you. Edie said she wouldn't give her blessing unless you would be wearing it.”

“Well, my mom knows what's good for me. She's looking forward to meeting your parents next weekend.”

“Yeah, they're looking forward to it, too. They've never been to Oregon. Should be fun.”

“So, earlier you asked me something. If I ever thought about where we'd be if I hadn't sent that email. Do you wonder about that?”

“All the time. Everyday,” he admitted. “It's a little bit of a waking nightmare to think about going back to how my life was, before I met you. I love this. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“I was thinking... we should invite Jake and his wife and uh... Saucy Rossy to the wedding. If it wasn't for him, we'd have never met.”

Shannon burst into laughter, smiling wide, so her eyes disappeared. “Oh. Oh Gawd. Yeah, he and Bruno will get along really well, I bet.”

The small, quiet, simple, but beautiful ceremony would be held the following year at the quaint and elegant Columbia Gorge Hotel. The outdoor, early evening gathering offered a perfect view of the frothy white waterfalls, coupled with the changing trees in vivid explosions of bright color. The setting sun behind them, he recited his hand written vows to her; she recited her hand written vows to him. The rings were exchanged, the prayer said, the candles lit and when, in front of family and friends, they were pronounced man and wife and he kissed her, long and sweet, as if he was kissing her for the first time, it became the second singular most wonderful moment of his life, so far.

Amid the applause and cheer and confetti and well wishes, he curled an arm around her waist and tucked her close to him. She looked up, into his face, noting how happy he looked. He looked down at her, noting how happy he was. He knew, then he'd never live the waking nightmare he used to have, about having never met her, his life never changed by her, stuck in the monotony and droll of the day being like like any other day, which were mostly all the same.