The crackling of bacon sizzling in the pan is the only noise I hear besides the chirping birds from outside. I try to ignore the sharp pain in my hands as I use the tongs to remove the meat onto a plate. My eyes momentarily glance out the window, at the beautiful scenery of my backyard, splashed with the sun’s rays that are now ready to start the morning.
They say every day is a new day, with new chances, opportunities, and beginnings. But when morning comes, it seems that my day always starts out the same. And to me, that is just fine. For I am not so worried about what the day has to offer, but who will be there to help me make it through.
I switch off the heat, and carry the plate outside, setting it down on the table. I glance at my old Rolex and check the time. It’s 7:52. She’ll be down in about five minutes.
With a little time to spare, I straighten out the blue and white striped table cloth, and the place mats. I know she doesn’t care if anything is out of place, and the truth is I don’t either.
I take slow, steady steps down the back porch and walk to the garden. Since it’s spring time, there’s a whole variety of flowers that are blossoming. I carefully pick a few of her favorites; lilies, daisies, daffodils, white magnolias and a sunflower. I place them all in a vase, trying my best to make a decent bouquet arrangement.
I go to the side of the house, and open the gate to fetch the morning paper out on the drive way, in which doing so, my neighbors greet me a good morning. I go back inside to wash my hands and I can hear her soft footsteps descending one by one down the stairs. Hurrying to be ready by the time she makes it outside, I go back out and make sure everything is set. Subconsciously I tug the table cloth just ¼ of an inch to the left. I smile to myself when I hear the screen door slide open, and smile even bigger when I see her.
“Good morning, sweetheart,” I say warmly, straightening up.
“Good morning,” she says, tightly embracing me. “Oh, honey, you didn’t have to do all this.”
She always says that.
I lead her towards the table, pulling out a chair for her, and take my own seat.
“What are we having today?” she asks, leaning forward.
“Pancakes, bacon, eggs, and some toast.” I pick up the pitcher from my right and pour her a glass of iced tea.
“You know I can’t eat that.” She shakes her head at me; the soft curls bouncing around her face.
“Why not?” I ask, knowing her answer will probably be some bologna about her age and whatnot.
“You know what the doctors told me. I can’t be eating things like this Justin, I have to watch my weight,” she takes a few sips of her iced tea. See, told you.
“And they said I would be gone by now. What do they know?” I shrug at her, meaning what I say.
“Hey, I know a lot for your information,” she says to me.
“I know you do.”
She tilts her head at me, and unsurely smiles. “I just… I don’t know how to put this into words. I don’t want to sound like I don’t know how you feel about me…”
She brings up the same subject at least twice a day, and I’m still not sure why. I allow her to gather the words, as I watch a few doves off in the distance, flying in packs, forming all sorts of shapes. But you know, I can’t really blame her for being insecure sometimes; I myself go through those days where I wish I looked young again, hoping to put on a little muscle, to gain the color back in my hair, anything.
“Do you still feel the same way you did about me when we first met?” She avoids looking at me as she says this, twisting at the necklace hanging down her neckline.
I straighten out the left sleeve of my faded denim shirt, unfolding it over the pale dry skin of my arm.
I know it won’t do either of us any good if I try to ignore her question and change the subject. There are so many different ways to look at what she’s asking me. So I go with a simple, honest answer.
“No.”
She drops the small emerald pendant, clanking it against her chest. She looks up at me with concerned eyes.
“No, I don’t.” I take her hands into mine, “There is no possible way I could still feel for you what I had before. For, you see, my love for you has only gotten stronger.”
I lift my hands up to caress her soft cheeks, as she plants kisses onto my palms.
“I’m sorry. I just can’t seem to shake the feeling that I’m beginning to… well, you know, look my age.”
“You’re not going to look twenty-one forever. Sweetheart, no physical appearance is ever going to shadow over anything I love about you,” I tell her, “Now c’mon, I know you’re dying for that bacon.”
I remember a time in my life, about thirty some years ago, where right now I’d be getting ready at some five star hotel located anywhere in the world, with about two dozen photographers snapping away at me while I’m being escorted off in a stretch limo to start my day, depending on my very busy and demanding schedule.
But that was my life then. That was the life of Justin Timberlake, the pop star.
I was working day in and day out, making music that was played everywhere around the world. I was living the life of a twenty-two year old’s dream; fame, success, money. And I was enjoying every minute of it. But deep in my heart, I knew that there was always that question in the back of my mind. If I was destined to be alone until my dying day, if I would never find love after Britney.
The summer of 2003 was spent mainly on touring and performances here and there, when I wasn’t cooped up inside a tour bus. There was a concert I was doing one night in Miami that had to be cancelled due to a car accident that had involved some of my crew members, which thank God, no one was severely injured. It turned out that we all had a week off, and then would resume the tour when everything and everyone was ready to go.
Immediately, I take the first flight to Memphis, where I knew I’d finally be able to relax and take a much needed break.
My mom was planning to stay with me actually, and her company was more than welcomed. It was great having her around, not only to take care of me but to talk with, laugh with, to be the friend that I needed. But until she had an emergency to attend to in New York, I was left alone.
You would think someone my age and career would love to have all that time alone to myself. It got quite lonely, actually. So the very next day after my mom had left, I flew to L.A. where Trace was visiting Elisha, who was filming her new movie. Not only did I voluntarily fly out there, but Trace was planning on proposing to her that weekend. And knowing him, he was going to screw something up, and I would be the one to help him fix it.
So the night he was going to pop the question, I had this really nice beachside restaurant entirely reserved for just them two. Where was I? Hanging out in the kitchen, helping the chefs peel some shrimp, and of course, making sure the ring was safe and sound.
Soon enough, it got tiresome, so I decided to take a walk on the beach, about half a mile down the pier. My mother, as well as my bodyguards and management would have killed me if they knew I was walking in the dark alone at night. But there was some sort of feeling I had in my gut that literally forced me to go.
I was only looking at the water for a moment, simply admiring the way the waves would lap on the coarse sand. But before I knew it I had taken off everything but my underwear (I noticed no one was in my company) and began strolling through the cold darkness.
I went in circles at first, just letting the water wash away my worries. But I went in deeper, and eventually found myself swimming in the salty mess. I was just about ready to head back, shivering from the breeze, but I was taken aback when I felt a tremendous amount of pain jolt through my legs. I reached down, clasping both of my calves, falling to my knees.
I cried out in agony and turned to my side, gripping my body harder. With heavy breaths I yelped out for help, and to my astonishment, someone had heard me. Someone who would change my life forever.
It’s about three in the afternoon now, and currently we’re waiting for Leslie to arrive with David. Tomorrow is the baby shower, which is going to be held here at our house. As if on cue, the doorbell rings as soon as I get off the phone with one of my good friends, Michael. I call upstairs from the living room and receive the reply, “Coming, dear.”
I straighten out my new shirt, and run a hand through my graying hair. Lonnie, the dog, is barking wildly, knowing who’s at the door. With a stiff hand I jerk it open, to see Leslie’s smiling face. Now, I have been blessed throughout my life to obtain many great titles. But nothing has ever made me more proud than the one I’ve earned from Leslie. This, folks, is my daughter.
“Daddy!” she exclaims, wrapping me into her warm arms. “I’ve missed you so much!”
“Hey pumpkin,” I chuckle. “I’ve missed you too.”
We let go of each other and I take a look at her. She’s gorgeous.
“You sure have gotten bigger,” I say, pointing to her stomach.
“Due next month,” she says, as if I don’t already know. Leslie’s my oldest daughter and you can bet I’ve still got that protectiveness over her. “Oh, I almost forgot,” she says, stepping aside, uncovering David, her husband.
“Hey, Mr.Timberlake!” He says, embracing me in a manly hug. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“Nice to see you too,” I say, “Glad ya’ll could make it. We’re honored that you’d pick our home to hold the baby shower.”
“Well, this place has a lot of love and memories. Where else could we have it?” he says, fixing his sunglasses on the top of his head.
“Where’s mom?” Leslie asks.
“She’ll be down in a second,” I tell her, knowing as soon as they see each other I’m going to have to paddle around in boat from the tears they’re going to cry. “So, what?” I ask.
They look at me with confused expressions.
“Ya’ll going to come in or what?” I laugh, welcoming them in.
That night, I remember, I laid in agony until to my surprise a young woman wearing a cream colored turtle neck sweater and white Capri’s came running towards me.
“Sir, are you alright?” she asks, pulling me away from the water.
I hissed sharply as she inspected my leg. “Does it hurt?”
“Hell yeah it hurts,” I had wanted to say. But I stayed quiet because at that point she was my only hope for help and if I drove her off, I probably would have died right there on the beach. Not because of my injury, but I knew Trace wouldn’t have even come looking for me after Elisha accepted his proposal; he’d probably wouldn’t even remember who I am I bet.
“It’s okay sir, I’m a nurse.” She pulled out an ID card to prove it to me. “Do you have a car?”
I shook my head. “I rode here with a friend.”
“Do you think he’ll be willing to help me get you checked?”
I was about to say yes, until I remembered what Trace was up to. “Well, he’d probably kill me.”
She looked at me peculiarly. “I don’t think he would mind knowing that you’re hurt.”
I cocked my head to the side. “Oh well… you see miss, he’s actually proposing to his girlfriend tonight.”
Her expression changed as she smiled and nodded slowly. “I guess we’re going to have to take mine then, if that’s alright?”
I nodded, desperate to get rid of the aching that felt like it was spreading through the entire lower half of my body. Definitely not a good sign.
“Well I live about four blocks from here. I have to run back home. Is it alright if you wait here for about ten minutes?” She asked, placing her warm hand on my arm.
I shook my head and she left me propped up against the ramp of a life guard shack. I sat there alone, thinking of a few things; 1) if I was going to be okay, 2) if that lady really were coming back, and 3) how I’m going to kill Trace for getting me into this mess.
I tried to wiggle around in the coarse sand, the cold breeze freezing my damp body. I looked to the waves again, cursing whatever had stung me. To my right I could see the distant light of the restaurant, wondering what was going on. As mad as I was at Trace, I was still hoping the best for him that night.
I thought that things between us would be different now that he and Elisha would be starting their lives together. Which meant no more guys’ nights, no more days where we could just go to the club and not worry about calling our girlfriends to check in with them, no more days where it could just be us.
But he’s my best friend. And no matter what, I had to just pull through for him. After all we’ve been through, and all the crap he’s taken from me… laying half naked stranded on a beach feeling half my body go numb and the unbearable cold icing over every inch of my exposed skin with some stranger being my only hope for survival, was the least I could do.
He would have done the same for me, if I were proposing to my girlfriend. If I’d ever have one. Well, I doubted that I’d be single for the rest of my life. And as cruel as it sounds, just because you have a relationship with someone doesn’t necessarily mean that you care for them. But I didn’t want that. I had wanted, no I craved for a meaningful, honest, loving relationship.
But, who? Who would give me that? Who had been the keeper of the heart, the mind, the soul that would make me fall so deep in love? Who would be The One?
And before I could think another second, the woman had returned. Jingling her keys in her hand, she shrugged. “Ready?”
I climb the stairs one by one, the soft carpet beneath my feet only encouraging me to move along. I told the others I would be taking a nap. As I reach the door I look around, making sure no one has followed. Finally, I enter the bed room and lock the door behind me.
The sun is peaking through from the large opened windows, making the drapes wave around wildly like ribbons flapping about from a little girl’s braids. I search around the deep ruby walls of the room, checking for misplacements of objects, and find none. I fumble around in my closet to pull the key out of my old coat pocket, using it to open the chest I have sitting deep into the dark corner of the small space. I reach inside the old mahogany chest, pulling out what I had come upstairs for.
I take a seat on my bed, with its warm lush off-white comforters and sturdy dark Jamaican wood, and begin to work.
After dragging me into her car, I found myself mentally questioning my actions as silence dawned upon us.
‘Great’, I thought, ‘got yourself in a real mess, Timberlake. And to top it off you have no idea what so ever where this complete stranger is taking you. What if she kills you? What if she ties you up and takes photos of you like this, selling them to every magazine in the world? Then what are you going to do, huh?’
“Hello? You there?” She said, looking at me.
“Huh?”
“I asked what exactly you were doing out there to begin with. If I may know, that is.”
I turned towards her. “Eh, I just wanted to take a walk. The beach is nice at night.”
“Do you usually take walks in your underwear?” she raised an eyebrow at me.
I blushed a little, trying my best to cover myself up.
“Don’t bother,” she laughed, “nothing I haven’t seen before, I’ll tell ya.”
I chuckled a little at her humor, deciding to ask her a few questions myself. “So I guess this isn’t the first time you saved some strange man in his underwear?”
“You know, I could just leave you here. In fact, there isn’t another gas station or anything another two miles from here. Sound nice?” she asked, pulling over to the side of the street. I thought she was just joking but the tone of her voice proved me otherwise. I mumbled an apology as she starts up the engine again. “Didn’t think so.”
“Are- are we driving in a truck?” I asked, noticing no seats behind us.
“You bet.”
“Wow. I never thought you’d be the truck type of girl.”
“Hah. Well I grew up in Georgia, where just about everyone drives a truck. I remember my daddy would load up me and my brother into his old beat down pick-up, take us to a carnival or the lake, anywhere,” she said, her voice getting softer as I listened, “Or the hot summer days where us little ones would pretend the old piece of junk were some magical carriage or something, like in the story books Pa would read us.”
I watched as she wiped a tear from her eye, swatting at the air. “I’m sorry. I just get caught up when I talk about him.”
“No, no,” I said, “It’s fine.” I tried to touch her shoulder but I was afraid she’d punch me or something, so I sat in silence until she spoke again.
“Where’d you come from?”
“Tennessee,” I say with a stronger southern accent than my own and a wide grin.
She nodded her head thoughtfully. “I’ve been there before. It’s really nice.”
“You bet,” I said, copying her words.
She laughed a little, making a right turn. “So what are you here in L.A. for?”
“Well, my tour-” I had begun to say, but stopped myself. That would have totally killed everything if I revealed who I really was. “I got a house here. But since the south was getting a little lonely, I came up here to help my friend, Trace.”
“That’s nice,” she told me. “You have a job?”
“Yup,” I said, sitting up a little. “I’m an undercover murderer who walks on beaches in his underwear and fakes injuries to hitch rides with nurses.”
“Oh really?” She laughed. “And then what?”
“Then I either kill them,” I said counting on my fingers, “Or make them fall in love with me.”
“Oh my,” she said, bringing a hand to her chest, “then I guess I better fall in love with you then if I want to stay alive.”
I pressed my lips together and shrugged. “You gotta do what you gotta do, right?”
She shook her head at me and rolled her eyes. “If only I hadn’t looked into medical and gone with interior design…”
“Hey, aren’t you a little too young to be a nurse already?”
“Well yes and no. Back home in Georgia I was still studying medical in my freshman year in college until I was sent out to help people all over the world, at the request of a very high ranked surgeon whom I had worked with a few times, just for some practice and stuff. Anyways, I was able to get a good experience from that and I had gotten a lot done so quickly that I was recommended to work here in L.A.”
“Not too bad.”
“Not at all. So then I was working long hours, dedicating my time and eventually I kept getting promoted, which brings me to where I am now.”
“Cinderella story, eh?” I leaned my head against the window.
“Sure I guess. Just minus the Prince Charming,” she said in a harsh tone. “So what about you? Age, I mean.”
“Twenty-two. You?”
“How old do I look?” she smiled at me.
I pretended to observe her face, tilting my head at her. “About… 46.”
“Shut up!” she said, slapping me across the arm. “I’ll be twenty-two next month.” We enjoyed a few more laughs, just chatting about whatever came to mind, until she stopped the car. “We’re here. Just hold on.”
I watched as she hopped off the car and ran to the door of the building, shaking it. I heard her say something but I couldn’t make it out. She ran back inside the car, her hands running through her hair.
“What? Wh-what’s wrong now?” I asked as she leaned back to close her eyes.
“I forgot the office closed early tonight. I-I I had the day off today, so it wasn’t like it was fresh in my mind. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” I said, shaking my head. “So now what?”
“Well, I can take to my house. I mean, just to make sure everything is fine,” she said, lowering her head shyly.
I don’t what it was at that moment but I kind of felt glad to be in the position I was in.
“It’s okay with me.”
I carefully cut along the pastel colored border, trying my best to make sure the final product is anything but lousy. No one knows about my little surprise, I can just imagine the look on their faces when they finally see it. I begin to paste little scraps and such together until I hear a knock at the door.
“Justin?”
“Yes, honey?” I pause with my actions.
“What are you doing in there? I thought you were taking a nap.”
I get up and open the door, only enough for her to see an inch of my face. “I was going to, but I locked the door because I was preparing for a quick shower. It’s sort of hot and you know what happened with David the last time I left the door unlocked.”
“Well, alright,” she says, running a hand along my cheek, “I just wanted to come up and check on you.”
“I’ll be fine. Just give me another hour.”
She nods her head, fixing the pink cashmere sweater wrapped over her shoulders. “The three of us are going for a walk to discuss the placement of everything.”
“Okay, ya’ll have fun,” I say planting a kiss on her lips before she exits back down the hallway. I close the door, smiling to myself as I continue to work.
“So why is it closed so early?” I asked, on the ride back to her place. I curiously looked at her as she laughed out loudly.
“Tonight’s my boss’ engagement party.”
“Wow,” I laughed with her. “That’s really weird. What’s with these love-sick fools anyway, huh?”
“I know. Nothing good ever comes out of it. Well, for me at least…”
“What do you mean?”
“I had an engagement to someone once upon a time,” she said, her right hand moving around, “He was my high school sweetheart and it felt like he was the only person I wanted to be with. I thought that for sure when he learned I had to travel in order to pursue my medical ambitions, that’d be it for us. It wasn’t, not yet. When I turned twenty one, I left Georgia in spring for about two and a half weeks to go to New York...”
I felt a slight tug in my stomach, already knowing where this was going.
“I didn’t call when I was finally back in town; I wanted to surprise him. But little did I know I was the one in for the surprise,” she said, biting her lip. “I came home and well… he was in bed with another woman. You could imagine all the fury and hurt I had. I kicked him out, called off the wedding, packed my shit up, accepted the request regarding my work and moved to L.A.”
“And that’s it?”
“Yup. Haven’t spoken to the son of a bitch since then but from what I hear he’s living in a shithole,” she said, smiling wickedly at me.
“Aren’t you the relentless type,” I said mocking her bitterness. “Not giving a-”
I couldn’t finish what I was saying because I was too busy screaming my head off as she suddenly cranked up the acceleration, raking the car over the piled up rocks along the side of the roadway. I wasn’t sure what angered me more; the fact that she was acting completely insane or the throbbing pain in my legs.
When the car finally came to a halt, I had to catch my breath before exclaiming, “What the hell was that! What do you think you’re doing? God, my legs… you really are trying to kill me.”
“What?” she said shifting towards me. “I am not trying to kill you. And please, don’t even act like that hurt.”
“It does!” I said with wide eyes.
“Well then maybe next time you should watch what you say.”
“I was just joking!”
She didn’t say anything, just simply stared at me. I grabbed my legs, rubbing them up and down as she started the car up again.
“What about you?” She asked, looking at me.
“What?”
“Have you ever cheated?”
“Nope. But I’ve been cheated on,” I said, a little quieter. “My most recent relationship actually.”
“Spill.”
I took a deep breath, not wanting to talk about it but I figured it’d be nice to talk to someone who didn’t know who I was, someone who wouldn’t beat around the bush because they knew who my ex-girlfriend was, someone who wouldn’t take all the years she and I were together and use careful words in my presence. I wanted someone to be real with me, to give me the real deal.
“I met this girl way back when I was like 11 or something, and we were friends for a couple of years until she went back to her original hometown in um, Connecticut. I met her again like five years later and we hit it off pretty well. We started dating; sneaking out together the way teenagers do you know, being all mushy and stuff and eventually fell in love.”
I sank a little in my seat as I continued my story. “But where we came from… people were always interested in us, you know? Asking us questions, sticking their nose in our business, all that. Sure it bothered us but man; we were crazy in love-”
“Ya love’s got me lookin’ so crazy right now, ya touch has got me lookin’ so crazy right now,” she began singing. I looked at her like she was crazy. “Sorry, I had to. Go on.”
“So we stuck through everything. Did all those things that young people in love do and by our third year together I thought for sure we were going to get married. But the beginning of last year, I had heard a few things from my closest friends and decided to investigate a little. Call it nosy, but hey, my relationship, my dignity was on the line.”
I had expected her to hit me or something at that point, but she didn’t. “Within a few months well, the truth unveiled itself. She had been unfaithful to me. I had gone through every emotion imaginable, trying to figure out what to do from there. Surprisingly I forgave her and we were fine for a short while. Big mistake on my part because she ended up cheating on me again. It became this big mess with everyone blowing things up and making matters worse, as we tried to decide what to do. I thought it would be best for us to just do our own thing, so we did. And it hasn’t exactly been an easy ride since then.”
I looked to her as she ran her thumb across her chin. “So what do you think?”
“I think,” she paused, “that you need some music.”
“What? I tell you my story and you just brush it off like that?”
She didn’t say anything, just pushed a button on the stereo. “I’ve got the perfect song for you.”
I sat still, wondering what she’d play for me. I was thinking something along the lines of Babyface, Boyz II Men, or the “Master of Broken Heart Therapy” Brian McKnight. But nothing prepared me for what I heard coming out of the speakers.
It was my own song, “Cry Me a River”.
I groaned, covering my face with my hands.
“It really gets you going, doesn’t it?” she said with a smile. I listened as she sang along with the words. “But you didn’t know all the ways I loved you, no… sounds familiar, huh?”
“Too familiar,” I said, groaning even more when the chorus began. I rolled my eyes in annoyance when she would point to me to do the background vocals. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I turned the volume down.
“Hey, I was feeling that you know,” she said swatting my hand.
“Yeah. I know.” I said, breathing deeply.
“You know… now that I think of it you look a lot like-”
“Him?”
“No. Chad Michael Murray,” she said laughing.
I rolled my eyes. “You really like that Justin fellow?”
“Justin Timberlake? I think he’s great. But I’m not like, obsessed or anything.” She said, offering me a stick of gum from her pocket. “Have you heard his CD? It’s good.”
“Nope, can’t say that I have,” I said, smiling to myself.
“I’ll let you barrow it. You HAVE to listen to it,” she said, skipping the track midway into “Rock Your Body”. “I like this song a lot.”
I laughed lightly when the familiar chords of “Take It From Here” floated through the car. I looked to my left, watching her sing along, closing her eyes from time to time.
“You are driving, you know,” I said shaking my head.
“What do you think of when you hear this song?” she said, scooting a little closer to the steering wheel. “Like… what do you think he’s going through when you hear this song?”
I sighed, leaning heavily into the cushioned seat. “I think of someone who just wants to find that special person and he just wants her to know that he’s going to be everything for her, he wants to be, because he loves her that much,” I say, “Someone who wants to be a love-sick fool.”
She doesn’t tell me her own thoughts, just changes the song again. This time, playing “Still on My Brain”.
“This is a really nice song. What do you think?”
“Hmm,” I said, trying to figure out what to say, “I see a guy who has had one too many heartbreaks in his time, and when he thinks he’s finally found the girl of his dreams… he’s fooled again. And he expresses that here but there’s more to it than just that. Like, he’s willing to just give so much to finally be in love, in actual, honest, deep love. And until he finds that, the ghosts of his past are just going to keep haunting him.” I opened my eyes to find her staring at me. I moved in my seat uncomfortably, clearing my throat. “What do you think of?” I asked, making sure to get her thoughts as well.
“Britney.” I smiled foolishly and closed my eyes, feeling really stupid. “But I liked your analysis better.”
She ejected the CD, handing it to me as I switched the stereo to radio as Gwyneth Paltrow and Huey Lewis’ “Cruisin’” came on.
“Oh! Turn it up, I love this song!” she said, swaying back and forth. “You’re gonna fly away, glad you’re going my way. I love it when we’re cruising together,” she sang. “Sing with me.”
“Oh, no that’s okay. I’m not a good singer.”
“Nonsense. Come on…”
I had given up, and before I knew it we were “Cruisin’” our way back to her house, laughing together as if we were old pals. But the reality was we had only known each other for a little over an hour.
“What’s this camera doing in here?” I said, picking it up from beneath my seat.
“I like photography. You can look at the pictures in there if you want,” she said, but I had already been looking through them.
“I like this one,” I said showing her, “where’s that?”
“Hawaii. I went two weeks ago with some friends.”
I moved back the switch to camera mode, turning the lens toward us. “How about a picture for tonight, hm?”
“Don’t you dare,” she said, giggling.
“Why not? C’mon, smile,” I leaned closer to her, so close I was about an inch from her face. I could feel her turn towards the camera and with one quick press of a button, the flash went off.
“Betcha gonna tell all your friends I’m your new boyfriend, huh?” I joked, putting the digital device back.
“You wish. Here we are,” she said, pulling up to the drive way. From what I could see the house wasn’t all that big, but it looked more welcoming and cozy than most homes. It had a Spanish feel to it, complete with the pale colored walls, tiled rooftop and stone set borders all around the yard.
I grabbed my pile of things as she helped me from the car, commenting how heavy I was. She leaned me against the wall behind her as she fidgeted with her keys to open the door. Finally, I was assisted into the comforting warmth of this stranger’s home.
I could see what she had meant earlier about interior designing, it seemed she had a real knack for it. The place wasn’t cluttered or too extravagant, just simple and elegant at the same time.
After a hard struggle I had ended up on her bathroom floor, a nice warm towel covering my body. I watched from the hard floor as she ran a face cloth at the sink, for the first time I was able to really get a good look at her figure. She wasn’t too tall or extremely short, she had some meat on her bones (which was always a good thing to me), making her seem very suitable to cuddle with, her shorts were able to show off her smooth legs and full thighs, leading up like a tree trunk to her very round bottom. Yeah, I was in trouble.
I had to quickly glance in the other direction as she turned around and knelt on the floor next to me.
“This might sting a bit,” she said, looking up at me.
I didn’t respond, my eyes were locked onto her features; the way her chocolate brown hair fell about her shoulders, the loose strands tickling the sides of her face, the tanned skin that seemed to have no imperfections, her eyes, deep and focused, the bright brown orbs with so many stories to tell, and the way her tongue snaked through the corner of her mouth, running over her full lips. The lips that I suddenly wanted to feel on my own.
My admiration was interrupted by the sudden sting, as I let out a clenched cry.
“Don’t worry, I got you,” she said, and began to clean me up.
I wasn’t sure exactly how I ended up the way I did but when I had opened my eyes, I found myself lying in a cozy bed, wrapped up in a fluffy pink robe. I thought I had been dreaming but the sound of her voice met my ears.
“You’re awake?”
My eyes moved towards the direction of her voice. She was peeking through the corner, wearing a grey Georgia State sweater and boxer shorts.
“Yeah, what happened?” I asked, rubbing my eyes.
“Well, I was attending to you and talking at the same time. By the time I was done I looked at you and you were knocked out sleeping,” she said, taking a seat next to me. “I helped you shower and dried you off. You looked peaceful so I just put you in my bed.”
“And I slept through all that?” I rubbed my head.
“Yeah. Don’t worry; I didn’t see you naked or anything. I just ran you in some warm water with your underwear on, then as strange as it sounds, I used a blow dryer to dry you off.”
I laughed lightly at the thought. “Well thank you very much for taking care of me.”
“It’s no problem,” she said, folding her hands over her lap.
“What time is it?” I stretched, grunting at the fact I had to get home somehow.
“One-thirty, about.”
I sat up straight. “A.M.?”
“Yup.”
“Oh God,” I said pulling the sheets off, “I better get going. Where are my-”
“On my dresser,” she said pointing.
I walked over to my pile of belongings, putting on each article of clothing one by one. For some odd reason, I didn’t want to leave. I pulled my socks on, as I noticed her looking the other way.
“I’m dressed,” I said as she turned back around. “Um… do you know where my cell phone is?”
“Right here,” she picked it up from the night stand and tossed it to me. “You had a call. I hope you don’t mind that I picked it up.”
“Oh, no that’s fine,” I said, flipping it open and hoping to God it wasn’t anyone that would reveal who I was. “Do you know who called?”
Then suddenly she did it again. She burst out laughing. “You won’t believe this…”
I sat back down on the bed, anxious to hear what she would say.
“I picked up the phone and this girl said, ‘Hey loser, it’s Christina’ and I said ‘I’m sorry he can’t come to the phone right now but I could leave a message if you’d like’, right? And so she goes ‘Oh, God. I’m sorry. Can you tell him that Christina called? I have to know if he got any word as to when the tour is back on’. So I go, ‘Okay sure. May I ask which Christina is calling?’ and SHE goes ‘Aguilera’. Oh man!”
I watched as she clutched her stomach, leaning back as repeating howls of laughter erupted from her. “Christina Aguilera, could you believe it? I never heard of anything so lame! So I told her ‘look chick, if you’re going to pretend to be someone else why don’t you just go call oh I don’t know… Paris Hilton or something. I’m sure you hang out with her!’ and I hung up. Gosh, isn’t that the funniest thing you’ve heard?”
I felt my cheeks burn up with embarrassment. “Ha ha… yeah,” I got up to make a phone call, trying to hush her laughter. I knew I couldn’t call anyone famous, or else she’d know who I was so I called my friend/choreographer, Marty Kudelka.
After six rings, he finally picked up, with a mumbled answer.
“Mmgreh..”
“Marty? It’s me, J. Um, look… I’m sorry for bothering you but do you think you can help me out?”
“Yeughuer...”
“Marty? Hello? Dude, wake up, please.” I waited for him to respond, but all I could hear on the end of the line was the faint sound of his breathing.
“You know, it’s not too much trouble for me to just drive you home.”
“No!” I yelled. “I.. I mean… no thank you. You’ve done enough for me tonight.” I turned my attention back to the phone. “Marty c’mon dude, wake up. Get up!” I paced back and forth in the room. “Jessica Alba is naked.”
“What!”
“Dude Marty, it’s me J. I know I’m bugging you but look-”
“Justin? What the hell? Where’s Jessica?” He groaned.
“Listen to me, man. I got into some trouble-”
“Are you in jail?”
“No! No, it’s not that. Look, I need you to pick me up from this house, if that’s cool? I’ll explain later.”
“Do you realize what time it is?”
“Yes, now can you help me or not?”
“Yeah man, what’s up?”
“Can you pick me up at…” I said, turning back to the woman for her address, “1735 Woodlurk Ave.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Alright, thanks man,” I said, and hung up.
“So you got a ride?” she asked, scratching the side of her face.
“Yup. He should be here in a few minutes. He doesn’t live too far,” I said, fixing the bed.
“That’s good. Care for some tea?”
“You have no coffee?”
“Nah. I work long hours but… that stuff isn’t good for you, you know.”
I followed as she guided me through the house, and into the kitchen.
I sat on a stool as she heated up some water.
“So how messed up am I, doc?” I raised my eyebrows.
“Not too bad. You should be fine now. If you feel anything aching or hurting just soak in the tub for a good half hour,” she said, leaning against the counter, “I’ve never seen a grown man act like such a wuss over something so small.”
“No one said you had to rescue me… but I’m glad you did,” I said honestly. “Is that your dad?” I pointed to a line of framed photographs sitting beneath the cabinets.
“Yeah, that’s Pa.”
“You look like him,” I said, not shying away when she caught me staring at her.
“So,” she said changing the subject, “have you heard from your friend yet? Trace, was it?”
I shook my head. “Nah, but I’m pretty sure everything went the way he wanted. I can’t believe he’s gonna get married.”
She turned away from me to get the tea ready. “Why’s that?”
“Well… I never thought Trace would find someone before I would, as mean as that sounds.”
“It’s cause you both did everything together right? Potty trained together, puberty together, all that stuff,” she said, sliding a mug in front of me.
“How’d you know?”
“That’s how my best friend and I are. Actually we had all the same classes together from kindergarten to senior year.”
“Didn’t that get on your nerves?” I asked, raising the mug to my lips.
“Of course. Who doesn’t fight with their best friend? Especially if you’re a girl,” she subconsciously rotated her mug, “sometimes… I wonder if that’s where I get my strive from. Not just from her support but from her presence alone. I sort of depended on her a lot and so I guess when I find someone wanting to take care of me… I push them away.”
“Interesting,” I said, making circles on the countertop with my finger tip. “Can I ask you something? It might sound a little weird.”
“Sure, go for it.”
“Who’s a better dancer: Justin or Usher?” I looked at her in the eye.
Her hand rested on her hip, as she thought of her answer. “Justin, definitely. Why?”
“Just wondering,” I said, mentally complementing myself.
Suddenly the loud honk of Marty’s Benz ruined the moment.
“Looks like your carriage awaits you,” She said, gesturing towards the living room.
“I guess we’re both going to walk away with no Prince Charming, eh?” I joked.
“It’s okay. I think my Fairy Godmother will hook me up with Paul Walker or something.”
I slipped my shoes on, really wishing I could stay. “Thank you again for taking care of me tonight. I know I’ve been a burden but, just know your actions don’t go unnoticed.”
“It’s nothing really. I’ve enjoyed your company,” she smiled.
“Hey look, I um… I was wondering if maybe I could you know, drop by again soon. Just to hang out and stuff,” I said, trying to sound as casual as possible.
“I think,” she said, “that would be absolutely lovely.”
“Good. Cause I have to drop by and give you my review anyway.” I watched her face wrinkle in confusion so I pulled the CD from my sweater pocket, flashing it at her.
“Wonderful,” she said sarcastically. “Do you think I could leave you my number? You know, just so you know when I’m free.”
“That’d be lovely,” I said as she scribbled on a piece of paper. Marty’s horn went off again, three more times. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
She opened the door as I prepared to leave as we said our goodbyes for the night. Half way down her driveway, I turned back around.
“Miss I’m sorry… it’s just dawned on me we never introduced ourselves.”
“Oh, my name is Linda. Linda One,” she said, reaching out her small hand as I took it in bewilderment. “What about you?”
“Justin. I’d tell you my last name but for some reason, I can’t remember it.”
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