Chapter 6 - April Showers

Wednesday, April 13th, 2005

Ellie looked up at the clock in the upper right corner of her computer screen, 11:15am. She looked through the window at the light drizzle of rain outside.

“Coffee?” Craig shook a grey striped mug as he offered.

“Sure.” Ellie accepted as she stretched before standing up from her desk to follow him into the small kitchenette between Maurice’s office and the elevator.

Craig softly tapped Maurice’s door as he passed. He opened the coffee maker and emptied that morning’s grounds into a bin by the fridge. He scooped a fresh heap of grounds into the machine and filled the pot with water, pouring it into the back and turning on the coffee maker.

“Any plans for spring break, Ellie?” Craig asked as he rinsed out his mug as she took one out of the cupboard for herself.

“My roommates are going home down south for some job interviews and to start planning their wedding. I’m honestly looking forward to having the apartment to just Linus and me,” she answered as she heaped a spoonful of sugar into her mug.

“Pity, Maurice and I would love for you, Linus, and Josh to join us in the Hamptons next week. You need the vacation.”

“I get plenty rest when I go home for the holidays.”

The machine beeped, and Craig poured the liquid in to their mugs. “You need more time off than two weeks at the end of the year. You also need a break from the city.”

“There’s no point,” Maurice said as he walked into the room. “The Times is predicting rain for at least the next week.” He poured himself a cup, turning to Ellie. “Don’t even think of suggesting staying in all week and playing Scrabble. After your display over New Year’s, your invitation will be officially revoked if you even think about it.”

“You’re just angry because you lost.” She chuckled before taking a sip. “Did you just invite my boyfriend and me to stay the week at your beach house?”

“Sure, you two need to build memories outside of this drab place. Anyway, we’ll love to have you,” Craig responded. “Speaking of Josh, is that his shirt?”

Ellie was wearing a blue and white pinstriped mens dress shirt with a white collar tucked into a charcoal pencil skirt. “How do you know?” She looked down at her ensemble.

“Women's blouses have their buttons on the left; men’s have their buttons on the right.” Craig ran his finger up the buttons on JC’s shirt and then lightly tapped Ellie on her nose. “We’re style editors; we know clothes. We also can’t help but notice how happy you’ve been the last few weeks. How long have you two been together?”

“Today’s actually our two-month anniversary. I’m finally allowing him to take me to his favourite sushi restaurant.”

‘Elizabeth!” Their boss, Clefnotes' editor in chief, Samuel Evans, cut her off as he walked into the kitchenette.

Samuel, or Sam, as everyone in the office called him, was the kind to wear a ponytail and a blazer over a Grateful Dead t-shirt and call it business attire, but his aging hippie looks badly hid his intense business man aura. “What do you know about the JC Chasez Jive buy out?”

Ellie choked on her coffee, scared at the possibility that the news of her relationship with JC had reached her boss. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I’ve just gotten a tip that JC Chasez, formerly of *NSYNC…”

“We know who JC Chasez is, Sam,” Maurice grumbled.

“Anyway, I’ve just gotten a tip that there is going to be a press conference at the Wynette today at noon, announcing that he’s going to buy out his deal with Jive Records. I was wondering if he or his team had dropped any hints during your interviews with him.”

“Nothing, everything of note went on record, and everything on record went to print. Elizabeth had been extremely thorough in her notes,” Maurice reassured Sam.

“I would like you two, Elizabeth and Craig, to be at the press conference today. I want this story first hand. I don’t care what it takes to get it.” Sam walked out of the kitchenette and back to the bowels of his office. The three of them sat in silence for a moment.

“We’re not going to get in without press passes,” Craig said.

“I know a line in,” Ellie stated reluctantly.

“Well, then. Get on it and get down there.” Maurice left Craig and Ellie in the kitchenette. Craig put his mug into the sink.

“Please consider accepting our offer; you’ll need it after today. We’d be more than happy to meet Josh.”

Ellie paced the sidewalk outside of the Wynette, cell phone pressed to her ear. “Eric, I know this is really shitty, but I’m going to lose my job if I can’t get press passes.”

Craig watched Ellie in the rain from the hotel foyer. A small crowd of press had gathered in and around the hotel. He took a photo of her.

She hung up and walked in the building. “Nothing,” she told Craig. She sat on the sofa next to him. “We’re fucked.”

“It’s OK, baby. Mere mortals can’t move mountains. As much as Sam wants the story, he understands how this business works: the early bird gets the worm.” He patted her hand and took a sharp inhale. “What’s that smell?”

Carlos walked towards them, wearing a pair of jeans and a black leather jacket. “Ms. Argyle, please come with me.”

Ellie stood up and followed Carlos through the foyer and through a staff door leading to the kitchens and the freight elevator. “You really need to dry clean that jacket. I thought I wasn’t getting the passes, conflict of interest. You could’ve just brought them down to me.” She waited with him as the elevator came down.

“This is for pleasure, not business,” Carlos said as Emerson slid the elevator door open from the inside. JC quickly stepped out and took Ellie into his arms.

“Baby.” He greeted her, his voice muffled by her hair. "Things are really fucked up now."

Adam tugged on JC's suit to pull them apart. "Walk with me. Negotiations have gone sour; Jive didn't give a flying fuck most of last year, but now that JC's solo work is profitable, they're being difficult. We announced the press conference because they're suing, and we want our side out to the press before they file the suit." Adam briefed Ellie as they walked through the kitchen to the staff door Carlos had led her through only a moment earlier. He gave Ellie a hotel keycard. "Go up to JC's room. Roy, Jules, and Isaac are already up there. We'll give you an exclusive interview after the press conference on the condition that--"

"That you do not reveal your relationship with JC. Got it." Ellie cut him off, repeating what he had told her many times before as she gave a two-fingered salute. "Aren't you scared of the suit?"

"We have them on a contract loophole. There's no way they'll win."

Ellie turned to JC. "Are you ok?"

"I'm OK." JC nodded, unable to mask his discomfort. He pulled her into a hug and whispered in her ear. "I am scared shitless, save me." She took his face into her hands and kissed him in reassurance.

"It's OK, I'm here."

"OK." JC nodded. They kissed again as Emerson opened the door.

"What the fuck?" Craig had followed Ellie and Carlos to the staff door and had been standing there waiting for Ellie to return. He stood in bewilderment as Ellie stood aside to let JC, Adam, Eric, and Emerson make their way to the conference room. Carlos clicked at Craig as he asked Ellie who Craig was.

"Who is he?"

"Don't fucking click your fingers at me, you little shit."

"Craig, this is Carlos, JC's personal assistant. Carlos, this is Craig, one of my editors. He's also the magazine's photojournalist."

"So, he's a paparazzi?" Carlos asked as he gave Craig the once over.

"No, you little shit, I'm an experienced field photographer."

"I'm not sure if I can bring him up to the room."

"It wouldn't be fair if Craig sat downstairs whilst I did the interview, plus our editor would be very disappointed if we went back to the office with an exclusive story and no pictures. Please."

Carlos pursed his lips for a moment before he finally relented. "Fine."

They walked to the elevator. "The 'J' stands for Joshua, right?" Craig asked as they waited for the elevator to arrive.

"He doesn't know?" Carlos turned to ask.

"I don't mix my business and pleasure. He only knows that I'm dating a 'Josh'," Ellie explained before the elevator arrived. The three of them stepped in, Carlos standing in front of Ellie and Craig with his back turned to them.

"Oh,” he muttered with a small hint of surprise, “I thought you were different." Carlos was slowly coming to the realisation that maybe he may have misjudged her. He had seen so many of JC’s girlfriends tell as many people they could as soon as they could that they were dating a celebrity. If Ellie was telling the truth, she had at least kept things quiet amongst her co-workers. Maybe she could be trusted.

"Ellie, I need to give you some advice," Craig said as they continued their journey upstairs. "Love isn't just the nice 'he's cute, we really like each other, we have great sex' stuff. It's about being strong for each other, about being their boat's keel. Do you remember Paul?"

Carlos turned to face them. "Who's Paul?"

"Paul was my first husband, beautiful, generous man. He was taken from us at 32, AIDS-related pneumocystis pneumonia, literally choked to death. I was only 20. I could have run but I stayed. He was my only family. He had everyone, friends, colleagues, the GMHC, everyone. I only had him, so I stayed. I dealt with the vomit, the diarrhoea, the KS sores, everything, because I loved him. I buried my first love, but it was worth it.” Craig’s voice broke as he started recounting the story of his first marriage. He twisted the strap of his camera bag as he went on.

“Love is worth every little bit of bad shit you endure. No one should ever have to go through anything I went through for Paul, but I love Mo so much that I would do it again. I would do it for both of you if you needed me to. That's what love is--it's being strong for someone when they can't be strong for themselves. If you truly love Josh, you will stick by him, no matter what. He might break your heart. You can run then. But you can't run because you can't be strong for them, then say that you love him.” As he tried to say his bit whilst trying not to start balling, Craig took in a deep breath and tried to calm himself.

Ellie leaned against the elevator railing and looked at Carlos as he was internally starting to map out a faint assumption of Craig and Ellie’s relationship. Craig had obviously adopted Ellie as some kind of surrogate daughter, completely justified as she was so far from her family. Carlos unzipped his jacket as he came to the conclusion, someone as generous as Craig most likely wouldn’t waste his time building such a close relationship with Ellie if she was selfish and untrustworthy.

The elevator came to a halt as Craig made a final point. “One more thing, love should be felt. It should be lived ‘cause if you don't, you're gonna look back on it when they’re gone and regret it, or you're gonna look back on it when you're old and thank the heavens that you did. Love is scary, but it's worth it, ‘cause it's also safety. Don't ever be too scared to love, either of you." They stood in silence for a moment, unaware that the elevator door had opened.

"Mo is very lucky to have you, Craig," Carlos said, finally breaking the silence.

The three of them stepped out of the elevator. Carlos grabbed Ellie's arm to speak with her in private as Craig walked ahead. "I'm sorry. I misjudged you. I'll try to be more...um, respectful from now on."

“Um...thanks?” Ellie reeled her head back slightly in confusion.

Carlos offered a faint smile. “Well, my Ma does always say ‘judge a person by the company they keep.’”

Ellie held eye contact as she took in a small breath. "You really need to get rid of that jacket."

Saturday, April 16th, 2005.

"My chosen vocation is singer, not cat bed." JC motioned towards the three cats that had piled onto his lap as Ellie passed him a cup of hot chocolate.

"That's what you get for not cooking." Maurice sat down in the love seat at a 90 degree angle to the couch JC and Ellie were sitting on.

"Hey, he can make amazing Kraft macaroni and cheese."  Ellie defended JC.

"Oh, wow! We have a regular Julia Childs here, I can not wait to experience the upper most culinary expertise of Le Chef Chasez," Maurice remarked with sarcasm.

Ellie had taken Maurice and Craig up on their offer and was staying with them for the next few days with JC. They were staying in the run-down wooden beach house overlooking the beach. Unfortunately, the weather forecast of persistent rain had been right, and the four of them were spending most of their time watching movies, playing board games, and acting as impromptu pieces of furniture for Craig and Maurice's twin Siamese cats, Gregory and Tanisha, both tan with deep chocolate brown faces and paws.

"I hope you guys like Bambi," Craig called as he put the tape into the VCR, making his way to JC to pick up Gregory and snuggle down with him next to Maurice.

"I hope that's the smell of burning popcorn and I'm not having a stroke," Craig called to Maurice and JC in the kitchen.

"No, Craig. That's just the smell of you needing to shut the fuck up," Maurice called out to his husband. "Goddamn hypochondriac."

"I can see why you two like Ellie." JC observed.

"Exact same dry sense of humour?" Maurice rattled the saucepan of milk on the stove.

"Yeah."

"What's going on with you two? There's a lot of awkward silences between you and Ellie," Maurice said as he put a piece of chocolate in his mouth.

"We're playing 'I love you' chicken; she doesn't want to say it ‘cause I guess she thinks that the girl shouldn't say it first, and I don't want to say it ‘cause I'm afraid it's going to backfire in my face."

"Why is that son?"

"Anytime I open up to her, she runs from me for a bit."

"This is what I don't get about Ellie. She's a complete idealist romantic, but every time she's faced with actual romance, she runs screaming for the woods like a fretful teenager."

“Yeah, but Miles.”

“Everyone has had a Miles; some of us have even been Miles in some cases. Come on, who was she?”

JC paused and thought for a moment. “Nikki, I was 20 and away for nearly a year.”

“See, you were young, you made a mistake, you’re not like that now. You aren’t, are you?”

“I know, you’re going to kill me if I am.”

“God, no. But I can’t keep information like that from Ellie. Not unless you’ve come to an agreement.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry. I know a lot of couples who have open relationships.”

“How did you two meet? How did you know he was the one?”

“Craig and I met at an AIDS rally in 1986. I was taking interviews for a gay publication, and he was asked by the paper to take some photos of the people I was interviewing. Craig’s a natural people person, so he knew the best people with the best stories: artists, carers, activists, you name it. At the end of the night, he asked if he could stay at my place, and frankly he never left. Of course, we fucked like rabbits. We were lovers from day one, but…I don’t know. I found out that since moving to New York from Missouri, with the exception of the time he lived with Paul, he had been homeless.”

As the milk came to the boil, Maurice slowly dropped around half a block of Swiss chocolate into the liquid, stirring it as the swirl of dark brown changed the colour of the milk to a soft brown colour.

“Of course when Paul died, Paul’s family took over Paul’s estate and threw Craig out on the streets. He took whatever clothes and camera equipment he could fit into a messenger bag and went back to drifting. When I met him he was starving, severely underweight, and in the depths of mourning. He had no family; they abandoned him when he came out. He was just miserable. Of course within a week of staying with me, he slit his wrists and tried to overdose in my bathtub. He was ready to die and meet back with Paul. But I wouldn’t let him. We both had seen too many young, vibrant men go for no Goddamn reason. I wasn’t going to let him throw a perfectly good life away.”

Maurice turned the stove off and placed the saucepan on a green gingham pot holder to the side of the oven. He leaned against the sink as he cross his arms and continued the conversation, letting the hot chocolate cool.

“We became best friends, and with time, he learned to be happy again. It was a night like this one, raining, and we were running through the streets completely off our faces. We fucked under a railway bridge, and he told he loved me. We’ve been together nearly 20 years. When gay marriage became legal in Massachusetts, we knew that we had to make this legal. Of course, we were an old married couple by then. We had our two babies and we were happy. He’s my home; he’s my family. You’ll know one day. It won’t be a sudden strike of lightning realisation. You’ll just realise that you can’t live without that person.”

“So, what do you think of Josh?” Craig asked as Maurice crawled into bed next to him.

“I like him, nice guy.” Maurice shuffled himself under the covers and laid next to his husband, resting his head on his right fist. “I think they’re ready to tell each other that they love each other, but neither of them are ready to come out and say it first.”

“Ooh! Do you think they’ll say it here?”

“Possibly, we might see a lot of pregnant silences first, though.”

“I love a story with suspense.” Craig paused. “What are the chances we might see him naked?”

Sunday, April 17th, 2005.

“Da-da, da-da, da-da, April showers, Da da-da da, da-da da, da-da da.” Ellie had been up since dawn baking a pie crust and singing to herself. As the three men started to wake, she started making a batch of buttermilk biscuits for breakfast. JC stood at the doorway from the hall leading into the living area watching her knead and sing. He wanted desperately to tell her that he loved her. Maurice passed him without noticing him.

“Morning, Ellie.” His voice rose to a falsetto as Gregory ran to meet his master. “And a very good morning to you my Greggy-Boy. Where’s my T.T.? Come say good morning to Pappy, and a good morning to you, to Liney.” His voice lowered back down to his normal register. “I’m going to take your cat home with me, Ellie. Oh, morning, Josh.” He greeted JC when he noticed him. He glanced at Ellie in the kitchen and then glanced back to JC. “Anything you’d like to say?”

“No, I’m good.” JC responded.

Ellie made little splashes in her bath water with her left hand in time to the song in her head, her right hand holding up a tatty old paperback copy of a romance novel from the 1950s where a Duchess travels to Africa to see the diamond mine she inherited from her father and falls in love with her travel guide. JC knocked softly of the bathroom door.

“I’m indecent.” Ellie called out in response.

“Hey, can I come in?” JC poked his head through the door. She motioned for him to enter before he walked in and sat on the edge of the bath. He took the book off her. “How can you read such trash?”

He opened to a random page and started to read out loud in a comical British accent. “She murmured his name as they kissed, her rosy bosom heaving as she felt his manhood press against the seam of his trousers, ‘Jeffrey, I can not possibly continue, it will do great dishonour to my family’s name.’ Jeffrey stared intensely into her violet eyes.

“‘Lucinda, either you consummate our love here, or I will drag you on the first tall ship out of Cape Town back to England to wed in front of Queen Victoria’s whole court, and I would not be wrong in supposing that our love will not be able to wait the four month voyage.’

“‘Jeffery, if you swear, you may take me now.’

“‘Lucinda, I swear with every star in the sky that a chalice large enough to hold every drop in the seven seas would still runneth over with my love for you.’” JC skimmed the rest of the page. “He’s bullshitting her…They don’t even fuck!”

“If they printed graphic sex scenes in the 50s, they wouldn’t be published,” Ellie explained. “In fact, most erotica was banned then.” They sat for a moment in silence. “Josh, how do you know when you’re in love?”

“When I’m in love or when someone is in love in general?”

“In general.”

“How did you know you were in love with Miles?”

“I’m not sure I was ever in love with Miles. I was just happy he wanted to be with me. Claire was always the beauty; she got all the guys. I was just happy that one of them noticed me.”

“I thought you were engaged?”

“We were. I’m not sure why we ever were. Sometimes I feel like it was because everyone back home marries young, either their high school or college sweetheart. Sometimes I think I accepted because I thought he would stop cheating if I did. You know, I only intended to intern at Clefnotes for one summer. I only took the job offer because I didn’t really have anything back home going for me. The only work I was offered was writing the parish women’s bible study newsletter for free. I was going to work in Gran’s diner for money.” She watched him as he placed the book on top of the laundry hamper and kneeled beside the tub. “Craig says love is being strong for someone when they can’t be strong for themselves.”

“It can be sometimes. Every relationship is different; they all have different needs. Craig’s a widower who nursed his dying husband. His idea of love is going to be different than someone who hasn’t had that experience.” JC rested his head on the side of the bath.

"How do you know when you're in love?"

He thought about it for a moment. "I create more. I write a lot more songs, I guess. I…” He stopped, unable to continue.

“Have you been writing a lot more at the moment?”

“I’m not really recording, nor do I have the resources. But I do have this idea. It’s kinda about you and how I suppose you’re feeling right now. The whole idea that you want to be with me, but you’re also too scared of what you’re feeling right now. You seem to have gotten this idea that true love is carefree, that once you’ve found the right person that you’ll never feel pain again, but you’re also dealing with all these strong emotions for the first time, and it scares you, so you want to run, but you’re also having a good time so you want to stay. You also know that you’re never going to be the same person again.” He paused. “I think I may have ruined you. I’m sorry.”

They sat in silence for a few moments. Ellie reached her hand out and stroked the hair above his right ear. “You’re very beautiful, you know.”

Monday, April 18th

“B-O-R-D-E-R, border.” Craig placed down his Scrabble tiles.

“That’s ten points, plus double letter value for both D and R equals…thirteen points. I wish you wouldn't have placed an ‘E’ so close to a triple word score tile,” Maurice said, anticipating Ellie’s next move.

“Hey, you’re just pissed that cum isn’t a legal word.” Ellie exclaimed as she rearranged her tiles.

“Yes, it is.” Maurice tried to correct her as he scribbled Craig’s score onto a small paper pad in pencil.

“Not C-U-M.” She rebutted him as she picked her tiles off her stand and starting placing them on the board. “Anyway, Q-U-E-A-Z-Y, 27 plus double letter score for the A, that's 28. Add the triple word score, 28 times 3 equals...84.” She turned to JC, who was more entertained by the players than the game. “Josh, honey, turn.”

After long consideration, he let out a groan.“This is so fucking corny, L-O-V-E, love.”

“Ooooooooh! It’s the perfect moment, tell her, tell her.” Craig jumped up and down in his seat.

“Tell me what?” Ellie looked at him with a quizzical look.

JC stared down at the board trying to find a way to change the subject. He came to the realisation that there was only one way to cover his ass. “Um…love, 9 points plus double word score, 18 points.”

Craig sat with his mouth open.

Maurice leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Oh, I love you.”

“I love you, too, babe.” Craig leaned back over to kiss Maurice on the lips.

“And I love you.” Maurice scooped Tanisha off his lap and kissed her head as she meowed.

An hour or so later, as Maurice put away the game and Ellie fed the cats, Craig and JC sat at the table on the patio overlooking the beach, talking and drinking beer. “If you don’t mind me asking, how did you meet Paul?” JC asked as he took a swig of beer.

“It was Thanksgiving 1983. Paul volunteered at a homeless shelter…”

“Really now?”

“He was going to a friend’s house for Thanksgiving dinner. He stopped by one of the bath houses in the village on the way there. The baths were great if you were like me, a place to sleep for 5 dollars a night. He came into my little room and propositioned me. A man that gorgeous, you don’t say no. When we were done, he asked me if I had somewhere to be. I said no. He took me to his friends house and then back to his apartment. I didn’t leave until his crone of a mother kicked me out 10 months later. She didn’t give a shit until she inherited the estate. I had to arrange his treatment, the funeral, bitch.”

They sat for a moment watching the rainfall from the patio roof into the garden underneath.

“You refer to him as your first husband?”

“He married young, before he was out. Lots of us did back then. We were hiding ourselves. When he got the diagnosis, he explained that he always wanted to get married again, but unfortunately he wasn’t going to be around long enough to be able to do that. He was always very realistic. He never pretended he was going to beat it. He knew it was his time to go. When he knew I wasn't going anywhere, he asked me to be his husband, gave me his old wedding ring. We didn’t have a ceremony or anything. He just gave it to me one night in bed.” He looked down at the gold band on his finger and slowly twisted it around. “Maurice let me use Paul’s ring. Maurice’s belonged to his grandfather. He left it to him in his will. We’re not even sure if he knew.”

“You knew you loved Paul because you were strong for him when he couldn’t be, and you know that Maurice loves you because he was strong for you when you couldn’t be for yourself.”

Craig sniffed. “Yeah, how do you know you love Ellie?”

“She makes me happy; I haven’t been for a very long time. We recorded this song, my group and I, for our debut album. The idea was that this girl has everything, wealth, the best car, but she had no one to love her. I felt like that. I have everything anyone could ever want, but I just wasn’t happy. Ellie’s changed that.”

“The best love is like that. The kind that’s there when you need it most. I’m not sure I’m at liberty to tell you this, but I’m pretty sure Ellie was depressed before you came along. She had closed herself off. That sense of humour wasn’t there when we met her, but she just got her heart completely obliterated. She needed to learn how to protect herself. At times like that, you seek out the darkness, but you always secretly hope for a little beam of light, a chance to be happy again.

“She wasn’t supposed to stay on set with you all day, just 15 minutes to get a short interview. She missed an interview with Paris Hilton because of how much she liked you. It was worth it, really, not just the cover story you ended up giving us, but the fact that I get to see my girl happy instead of having to put together a ‘hot looks’ photo spread of a syphilitic Barbie doll.” JC did a spit-take, beer coming out of his nose in laughter.

Wednesday, April 20th

“Good to see the rain finally cleared up,” Maurice mentioned as he walked into the living room that morning.

“Shhh!…It’s OK, just pretend I’m not here.” Craig shushed him as he held his camera to his face. He snapped a photo of Ellie and JC in the kitchen, singing along to the radio as they swayed back and forth, JC behind her as she stirred a pot of oatmeal. “The sun is creating the most incredible lighting this morning. With subjects like these, I couldn’t resist. Them on the other hand…”

“I remember when we were like that. All fucking night, banging and giggling.”

“My ass is sore just thinking about it.” Craig snapped another photo as JC softly bit Ellie’s left earlobe.

JC and Ellie walked along the beach as Craig and Maurice followed behind them. They had fallen behind as Craig would stop to take the occasional photo.

“It’s very beautiful here, great place to have a wedding,” Ellie observed as she stopped to look at a patch of pitch pines growing by the side of the dunes. “I would love to return here one day to get married.”

JC picked off a stray leaf caught in the skirt of her white sundress. “I’m not sure I want a wedding.”

“Then how are you going to get married?”

“I don’t think I want to get married, at least not legally. I don’t really see the point.”

Ellie halted, the wind knocked out of her. She had always dreamed about her wedding, a small ceremony with friends and family on a day not unlike that day. She felt him look at her, searching for a reaction as she stared at her feet in the sand.

“It’s just a piece of paper. It doesn’t mean anything if you stay with me. It also doesn’t mean shit except for a lot of unnecessary hassle if you decide to leave.”

“What about God?” she finally murmured out.

“We could easily get our union blessed by a minister if you really need that.”

“What about children?” Her head snapped up to look him in the eyes.

“I’m not even sure I want children.” As he said this, the images of Sherman James and Annabelle Joyce Argyle-Chasez popped out of her head like balloons.

“I can’t stay with you if you don’t want children. I’ve always dreamed of being a mother.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want them. I’m just not sure yet. We’ll have them if that’s the plan for us.”

“Is that a yes?”

He paused in thought. Ellie watched for a response for what seem like a thousand eternities.

He finally answered. “Yes.”

Ellie screamed in joy as she jumped, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Yes! Yes! Baby! Joshua!” The words slipped out of her mouth. “I love you.”

JC looked into her eyes for a millisecond before he placed his hand on the nape of her neck and pulled her in to kiss her. “I love you, too. I swear on every star in the sky that a chalice large enough to hold every drop in the seven seas would run over with my love for you.”

“Runneth over.” She corrected him, giggling as they pressed their noses together, Maurice and Craig screaming in joy as they jumped around in the background.

Monday, April 25th.

Samuel Evans’s office was the largest on the floor. Though it received the most natural daylight during the work day, it was nicknamed “the Bowels” by his coworkers at the magazine as he had decorated it in industrial monotonous greys and chrome. He sat at his glass desk with a veneer made to look like grey marble on the wall behind him. He heard a small knocking.

He greeted Ellie as he looked up to see who was at his door. “Elizabeth, how are you this morning? I was just looking over your article about JC Chasez. So sad to see someone so talented get the shaft. Hopefully it’ll turn out in his favour.” He shook his head as Ellie sat in a grey leather grey facing her boss.

“It’s fucking awful when art is treated like business, especially when artists are usually such sensitive creatures. I really have no idea how you got such an exclusive. They must like you over there at Team Chasez.” He took a sip of water before changing the subject. “Anyway, what brings us this pleasure this morning? You’re not leaving us? Whatever Vogue’s offering you, I’ll match it in gummy bears,” he said jokingly.

“Actually, Sam, it’s about JC. Unless personally requested by his management, I no longer am willing to cover any story related to him. Conflict of interest.”

“I’m really sorry to hear that. You seem to have a great rapport. Can you give me a reason why?”

“We’re in love, about 9 weeks now. I’m well aware that I have violated the sexual conduct code and understand if you wish to penalise me.” She stared into her lap for a moment. “I need to go.” She stood up, not looking Sam in the eyes, closing the door before she heard his response.

“That’s wonderful…funny duck that one.”

Ellie found a large yellow envelope on her desk when she returned. She undid the clasp and slid out the pile of photographs Craig had developed in his dark room the night before. She flipped through them, the many photos of Linus Maurice had taken whenever he took the camera, the grey fuzzball sniffing Gregory, lounging in the sun on the cat tree by the front window, laying on JC’s lap as JC reclined on the couch watching TV. Inside were a few portraits of her cooking and tying her hair up. There were a few of JC sleeping or goofing off for the camera. But most of the photos were of JC and Ellie, snuggled up together, little moments of affection caught unawares. The final two were doubles of a black-and-white photo Craig must have taken on the beach the Wednesday before. JC and Ellie held each other, her arms around his neck as he placed his hand on her cheek. They were smiling, looking into each other’s eyes as they pressed their noses together. The sleeves of JC’s striped button down were rolled up to his elbows, sand covering the bottom of his jeans, his feet hidden in the sand as the skirt of Ellie dress blew softly in the breeze.