"Damn it," Lauren's voice carried out to the kitchen.
Nick was leaning into the fridge, his hands covering over a take-out box that was on the bottom shelf, filled with french fries left over from Lauren's lunch with her mother the day before. He hesitated, wondering if Lauren somehow had the fridge bugged and knew he was thinking about stealing one or two or six. "...Laur?" he called tentatively, his hands frozen mid-reach, "What'sa matter?" Nick waited for the you're stealing bad-for-you food response.
"My appointment with Helen is the same time as I'm supposed to be picking up Rochelle from LAX," came Lauren's reply.
Nick breathed relief, flipped open the styrofoam box, and shoved a fry into his mouth. He grabbed a carton of blueberries for an alibi, and shut the fridge door, chewing on his potatoey-goodness. He carried the blueberries out to the dining room and sat down, swallowing the last fragments of fry, and put the carton prominently on the table in front of him. "Mmm, mmmm," he said, snapping open the carton, "Blueberries."
If Lauren perceived it as weird, she didn't act it.
"So cancel your date with Helen," Nick said, popping one of the blueberries into his mouth.
"I can't," Lauren said. "Do you have any idea how long it took me to get this appointment with Helen in the first place?" she asked, eyeing him.
"Uh -- no," Nick replied, taking a handful of berries out of the carton and beginning the process of arranging them into a cool pattern on the table.
"Well it took a long time," Lauren said. She stared at the planner laid out in front of her like she was looking at a Einstein's logic puzzle. Her brow furrowed.
Nick peeked over at the planner. "Who the hell is Helen anyway?" he asked.
Lauren looked up, "You met Helen."
"Did I?"
"Yes," Lauren answered. She sighed, "Helen, Nick! Helen, the woman who is helping me to put together our wedding? Helen."
Nick half-nodded. He had no clue. He was willing to bet he either had not actually met Helen or else she'd showed up at the house during the first five minutes of the Buccs last game. You know, those five minutes when they weren't losing yet --- yet being the keyword. He'd made a spiral design with the blueberries on the placemat by now and he stared down at the table, at his artwork.
"I have to see Helen," Lauren said.
"So tell Rochelle to take a cab."
Lauren gave Nick The Look. "I can't make Rochelle take a cab," she said.
"So Rochelle."
"But it took a month to get this meeting with Helen."
"So Helen."
"But Rochelle!"
"Rochelle."
They stared at each other.
"Madam, we have reached what is called an impasse," Nick said, laughing. He popped another blueberry and leaned back in the seat. It suddenly occurred to him: he was looking a gift horse in the mouth. And that horse was about to throw up rainbows. "I could go get her," he suggested slyly, pretending to study the blueberries.
"Uhhh no," Lauren said, shaking her head.
Nick's calm front broke, "Why?" he whined like a teenager asking for a later curfew.
"Because."
"Because is not a good reason," he argued.
Lauren stared at him.
Rochelle stepped out of the terminal at the airport and looked around, expecting Lauren. Instead, she saw Nick. He was wearing a t-shirt featuring Pokey and Gumby doin' the deed and old Converse sneakers. He was holding a little neon sign affixed to a popsicle stick, decorated with Lauren's handwriting on it reading Welcome Home Ro Ro! and a bunch of little hearts.
Nick spotted Rochelle at the same time she spotted him. A funny feeling flooded him when he saw her, and it made him regret sneaking the Twix bar on the way over to the airport. Rochelle adjusted her carry on bag's strap on her shoulder as she approached him and gave him a once-over, trying to be casual, and said, "Well, Lauren, I know they say you start lookin' like people you live with after spending a copious amount of time with them but...this is ridiculous." She smirked.
Nick grinned. "I know, I really need to work on getting back my girlish figure." He ran a hand over his booty.
Rochelle wrapped her arms around him as she chuckled, then stepped back and took a good look at him. Nick had gained weight, all jokes aside, but it wasn't all that hard considering how much he'd lost last time she'd seen him. He looked fuller than he'd looked in two years, and his skin's pallor was normal and his eyes had a sparkle in them that had been lost sometime ago. He looked good. She smiled. "As shocking as this may be," she teased, "I actually think I might've missed you."
"Of course you missed me," Nick said in his most charming, half-grinning sort of tone, "Who doeesn't miss me when they away from me? I'm addicting, sweetheart, lemme tell ya that."
Rochelle laughed, "And very modest."
"The most modest you ever met," he agreed. He nodded at her duffle bag, "I'd offer to take that for you, but I'm sickly and weak and stuff so you gotta carry it yourself, but it's the heart that counts."
Rochelle felt like there was a bit of irony in the phrase the heart that counts, but she let it roll off her back and she laughed, "Oh how chivalrous."
"Shivers? What?"
"Like a knight. Chivalry."
"Is that what they mean by that chivalry is dead stuff? Is Chivalry the name of a knight?" Nick asked.
Rochelle laughed, but had a feeling Nick was seriously asking.
They walked through the airport to baggage claim, and Rochelle asked Nick was up to which meant that she then listened to him babble about this and that, mostly stuff that the dogs had done or he'd seen on TV or whatever. "Sorry," he said as they reached the carosel and Rochelle started searching for her Ed Hardy suitcase. "I haven't gotten out much."
"Laur got'cha in a ball and chain, huh?" Rochelle joked.
"This is the first time I've gone anywhere alone," he admitted, laughing. "She's trying to take care of me, I know, and I appreciate it."
"You better," Rochelle scolded.
"I do." Nick pointed, "There's your bag."
Rochelle grabbed it off the conveyer belt and hauled it along behind her through the airport. "She's working really hard for you," she said to him, "Just remember that."
"Trust me, I remember it," he nodded.
"Good."
They made it out to the parking lot and Nick led the way to his Escalade, which was sitting in temporary parking. "So, uh, how was Japan?" Nick asked. He clicked the remote on the Escalade and the lights flashed. He held the door to the storage space in the back open for her.
As Rochelle loaded her duffle bag into the back, she replied, "It was okay."
"Just okay?"
"Pretty much everything has been just okay," she answered with a shrug.
"I know the feeling," Nick replied.
