There’s no logical reason for her to feel uncomfortable. The sofa she’s sitting on is perfectly broken in, giving where it should and still holding her in place. She can’t even use the excuse that she’s in Justin’s house. The hostility has long thawed and she spends more of her time, even her free time, here than at her own apartment. Which she blames on the fact that the AC is still broken.
A commercial settles in on the TV and she takes the opportunity to pull herself out of her rut on the couch which has sunken her uncomfortably close to a warm body next to her. She pulls herself as far into the corner as she can and sighs a little when she doesn’t slide back into the hole his body is creating.
If he complains she has a good excuse. In the corner she is much closer to the baby monitor in case Jonah wakes up. Not that that is likely to happen. He’s been sleeping through the nights for at least two months now.
The room darkens as the show comes back on. Mae cowers in the darkness and tries to slow her racing heart. This is ridiculous. She’s not thirteen and this is not the first boy she’s maybe possibly cuddled with on a couch. Granted she is in her bosses house and the thought of him bursting through the door unannounced at any moment like he has a right to makes her feel strangely guilty.
“So why didn’t you go out with Justin tonight?” she asks. The conversation is an olive branch of sorts trying to make up for the obvious move away from him. He doesn’t turn to look at her, keeping his gaze on the screen.
“I told him I had other plans,” Trace answers simply. Mae nods although his eyes don’t receive the motion.
“And he actually let that fly?” Mae pushes. Justin isn’t exactly the kind of person you so no to. Mae tried to tell him that she couldn’t go with him to take Jonah to the doctor last week and he almost pitched a fit. Makes Mae wonder why she pretends to be in school at all anymore.
“He knew they were important plans. Besides he gets it. Sometimes you gotta hang with a girl,” he replies. A small flutter bursts to life in the pit of Mae’s stomach and it causes a wave of nausea. She wonders if Justin knew that she was the girl.
“While we’re on this talking kick, why don’t you scoot your ass back over here. I’m sure as hell not carrying any diseases you can catch so no need for the safety space,” he commands. The light tone to his voice is meant to ease her nerves, but it just rouses them back up again. Mae glances over at the monitor next to her.
“I can hear the monitor better over here,” she argues feebly. The commercials start back up and Mae is at the mercy of Trace’s full attention.
“You and I both know that thing is not cemented to that table. Bring it with you. Hell, the more the merrier,” he says. Mae pulls the monitor firmly to her chest before unfolding her legs from beneath her and moving back into the crevice created by his weight.
Immediately the heavy weight of his arm is on her shoulder and she sinks a little trying to avoid the touch. Not that this is a surprise to her. After the kiss she was pretty damn sure that Trace was interested, she was just kind of hoping that maybe he would change his mind. Obviously that’s not the case.
She’s always had this nasty habit of being awkward in relationships. What comes so easily and naturally to other people is forced for her. When do you kiss the other person? How the hell do you know when its time to have sex? And where are you supposed to put your hands when you’re spooning? Things she’s never sorted out.
Trace sinks down to match her slump and she can feel his breath on her collar bone. She swallows a nervous yelp when his mouth brushes her ear lightly. Her head involuntarily twitches to the opposite side and he chuckles.
“Why are you so damn jittery Mae? It makes me think you’ve never fooled around with anyone before.” Every word bounces off her skin and succeeds in making the pit in her stomach even larger. Something about the term ‘fooling around’ doesn’t sit well with her. Makes her feel like a clumsy handed 14 year old rather than a 25 year old woman.
“Is that what we’re doing here?” she asks. Her voice comes out steady rather then broken like her nerves. She had avoided this moment. The moment were solid things that couldn’t be denied were said. Not implied or eluded to or even physically shown. But to have those words out there to confirm all the thoughts swirling around in her head terrified her more than a little.
“See and I thought by kissing you I was opening up all kinds of doors. Instead it feels like I shut them all instead,” he replies with a sigh. His breath leaves her skin and she revels in the cool that surrounds her. But with the temperature changes also comes the eminent ‘talk’.
Mae chews on the inside of her lip as she thinks of all the ways to explain how bad she is at intimacy. Not that she doesn’t like it. She just sucks at it. There isn’t even a direct objection to Trace. He’s a nice enough person. Obviously doesn’t like her singing, but that can’t be held against him.
The words gather in her mind like a small army ready to march from her mouth and then his phone rings. Mae revels in the ability to put off the conversation a little longer and tried to get wrapped up in the TV.
“Yeah?” his voices comes out agitated.
“Oh hey. No I thought you stood me up. You little tease. I was just sulking it out.” Mae can’t place an emotion to the words coming from his mouth. He’s obviously not angry anymore, but does this mean….
“Well get your ass in gear girl the night is young! I’ll pick you up in 15. You better be ready.” He flips his phone shut and begins the quick process of gathering all the remnants of his scattered around the room.
Mae knows her mouth is hanging open, but she can’t help it. Her mind is busy with too many other things to tell her mouth to close. She assumed that his plans were with her.
“Sorry. Kelly finally called so I gotta go. Maybe next time you’ll let me hold your hand,” he chuckles. He adds a wink for good measure and Mae feels her lost confidence well inside of her. She raises from her slumped position and smirks at him.
“Promiscuous boy. Let's get to the point. Cause we're on a roll. You ready?” She makes a concentrated effort to sing the lyrics as horribly as possible.
“Later Idol,” Trace calls as he leaves. Now that he’s gone the room seems stale. The volume on the TV too low and the couch too large. She struggles for a moment to try and fix the situation on her own, taking different positions on the couch and adjusting the volume again and again. No dice.
Finally she stands from the couch stretching her arms over her head and balancing on her tip toes. She purses her lips as she assesses her options. A small rustling crackles over the monitor and Mae makes her way towards her favorite room in the house.
She pauses at the doorway and takes special care to open in slowly and without noise. The small nightlight Justin insists be left on at all times casts a warm glow over the room. Mae thinks he was scared of the dark as a child, maybe even a little still. The recliner in the corner calls her name and her muscles relax as she settles into it.
The sound of her deep inhaling and exhaling ripples through the room, but Jonah doesn’t stir. Slowly she pulls the magazine from the nightstand and begins to read about the new black this season, which is apparently green.
Sadly she gets so involved in the fashion update she doesn’t realize someone is in the house until she can hear the heavy footsteps on the stairs. Her breath catches in her throat as she considers the possibilities. There are really only three. Trace, not the best option at this moment as she it still uncertain of what to make of the flummoxed couch hook up, Justin’s mother, not a terrifying option, but she still hasn’t completely warmed to Mae. In fact she still quizzes her regularly over her baby knowledge. And then that leaves Justin.
She hopes it’s the later. It’s the only option that seems appealing. The bursts open and Mae looks towards Jonah hoping he doesn’t wake. He may finally sleep through the night, but if he wakes up he will demand stimulation and at 11 p.m. doesn’t seem like a good option.
Justin stumbles through the door and Mae can smell the alcohol immediately. The sour stench makes her draw her head back and she goes to the crib, trying to block Jonah from the same fate.
“Justin. What the hell are you doing?” she hisses. With Jonah asleep the no swearing rule goes out the window. Apparently along with Justin’s common sense.
“Mae? I just wanted to kiss the little guy goodnight,” he slurs. The smell becomes even stronger when he opens his mouth. He steps forward and Mae clutches the crib behind her.
“Are you crazy? How much did you drink?” she answers. Justin rolls his eyes and trips on his own feet. Mae reaches out and tries to catch him, but his dead weight does nothing, but brings her down with him. They land on the floor in a mess of arms and legs.
“You idiot,” Mae snarls. Justin smiles up at her and then begins to laugh. It starts low and slow and then builds to a level that shakes his entire body. Mae turns her gaze toe the crib where Jonah begins to squirm under his blanket. His head pops up and when his sleepy eyes fall on his father, his face breaks out into a grin.
Mae groans as Jonah grasps the bars of the crib and pulls himself to a standing position. When he reaches the top he holds his hands over the bars. Small grunts let Mae know that he wants down. She pulls him from the crib and holds him to her chest, but he squirms from her reach and when placed on the floor crawls straight to his father.
By this time Justin has calmed a little. When his son reaches his leg Justin looses him sense of humor and pulls the small boy to him. Mae watches as Jonah curls into Justin’s chest and that simple action sobers his father.
Before Mae can scold Justin again, tears stream down his face. She leans back resting on her haunches.
“Justin?” she eases. He doesn’t look up, but tightens his grip around the baby and begins to rock slowly. He leans down to press him lips to the baby’s head occasionally, but doesn’t break the slow motion.
“What the hell is wrong with me? I can’t be the fucking father I should and I can’t go back to being the Justin everyone wants me to be.” His words are soft and pleading. Mae opens her mouth to respond then just as quickly snaps it shut.
“I just want people to leave me alone. Leave Jonah alone.” Mae nods and eases her way towards the rocking pair.
“What happened?” Mae asks. She’s close enough now to touch him, but doesn’t invade their bubble just yet.
“They wanted me to do lines. I mean, I know I used to be into that shit, but I can’t do that now. I have to, fuck I don’t know, grow up? If not for me than for Jonah. But that wasn’t a good enough reason for them. They ragged on me until I couldn’t take it. I fucking left before the DJ even took the stage. I never do that,” he grumbles.
She can’t be held back anymore. Her arms wrap around him and in turn Jonah. The motion slows and then stops as she holds on.
“You can’t be young forever Peter Pan,” she whispers. Justin chuckles roughly. She presses her lips into the side of his forehead and he sighs under her touch. She feels his body lax and begins to reach for Jonah.
“I’m going to take him to bed with me tonight,” Justin argues. Mae nods and tries to help stabilize his weight as he stands.
“You know, not to be mean, but a lot of people you hang out with are idiots,” Mar offers. Justin chuckles as he makes his way down the hall.
“Lately that consists mostly of you and Trace, What does that say about you?” he challenges.
“I can’t say much for Trace, but as for me…it says your taste has improved considerably.” She turns to head down the stairs and can hear his chuckle bouncing through the empty house as she settles back into the couch.
She won’t leave them tonight. They might need her and she wants to be there in case they do. She switches on the TV and stares mindlessly at the Law and Order rerun. AS she eyes slips closed she’s tempted to head back upstairs and join them. The simple thought shocks her.
As per her luck it was be the wrong time and unwarranted. If only she knew how wrong she was.
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