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.