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Before: Date in a Bed


Ashley

Boston's airport was crowded when we landed. Nick was still shaking. He'd been harder to take care of on the flight than Zoey had. Zoey literally had gone through the flight without a single tear. I fed her as we took off and she'd fallen asleep and other than one bout of waking up wanting to be burped and changed about midway through, she pretty much slept through the entire ordeal. Nick on the other hand, threw up about four times, and rambled about the woman who'd sat next to him on the plane when he'd had the crash. "It was her eyes," Nick muttered, "She had these eyes, they were intense eyes, you know? I wish I knew if she lived." He'd stared out the window at the wing of the plane, then thrown up again, doubling over in his seat. The guy on the other side of him was pressed tight against the wall with headphones on, staring at the tablet he was using, trying to ignore Nick.

We'd made it across the country, though, and here we were in Logan airport, Zoey finally awake and crying. Nick was signing papers on the rental car and I was sitting on the trolly cart with Zoey singing quietly, though she didn't really like my voice as much as Nick's. I tried singing classic lullabies and she wasn't even slightly interested, so I finally switched over and tried singing I Want It That Way because I actually know the lyrics to that one and Zoey's tears slowed a little bit, though she kind of looked at me like why are YOU singing this and not my Dad?

Nick came back, "Okay, we got a car."

"Thank God. Here, sing to her, she thinks I'm crazy singing," I said, and I shoved Zoey into Nick's arms and I pushed the trolley as he led the way out to the parking lot where the car was, singing Brown Eyed Girl as we walked. I swear to God, he got like two lines in and Zoey was dead silent. He was the baby whisperer.

Nick tucked Zoey into her carrier in the back and we loaded the rest of the stuff into the car and I got in while Nick returned the trolley, and off we went to the hotel. Nick got stressed in the traffic and Zoey picked up on the tension and started crying again, and her cries got me tense, and by the time we got to the hotel on the north side of Boston - clear across the city from the airport - we were all a jumble of nervous wrecks.

Inside the hotel, Nick sang to Zoey more as I took a shower, and when I got out, she was quiet, and so was Nick. I assumed he'd fallen asleep and took my time getting dressed and everything. I pushed the door of the bathroom open and came around the corner to find Nick sitting on the bed surrounded by boxes of Chinese food. Zoey's crib was set up on the far side of the room from him, tucked between the wall and the second bed, and she was fast asleep.

"We had a date, I do believe?" he said. I smiled and walked over and climbed onto the bed with him. He handed me a container and some chopsticks. "And for when the chopsticks get obnoxious, here's the fork they gave us."

I laughed.

"It ain't the beach sand," he said, running his hand across the ugly polyester bedspread we were sitting on, "But..." he pulled his phone out of his pocket and hit play on a sound effects app he had pulled up. Ocean sounds came out of the phone all crackly and staticy, complete with lame caww caww noises of birds. It sounded like someone had gone sshhhhh too close to a microphone while someone else literally said "caw" in the background. I laughed so hard my sides hurt. "It's so realistic," Nick said, "If you close your eyes you can almost feel the ocean licking your toes." He looked up at me, "I can lick your toes if you want a more realistic feel to the moment."

"No, that's okay," I laughed.

Nick grinned.

It was the best damn Chinese food I ever had. I think mostly because of Nick's crazy antics. He turned off the sound effects thing, and we ate and I shoved a baby corn up his nose as we played around and he did that stupid joke with the fortune cookies ("Help I'm trapped in a fortune cookie factory!") and when we were done we worked the jigsaw puzzle of putting all the leftover containers into the mini-fridge.

Nick glanced into Zoey's crib. "She's still asleep," he said. He crawled back onto the bed beside me.

"She's had a long day," I said.

Nick leaned over. "You know," he said, "There was a second part to this date we talked about."

I nodded, "There certainly was."

He grinned up at me hopefully.

I laughed, "Are we gonna talk about it, or are you gonna do me?"

Nick's nose crunched up as he laughed and he rolled onto me. I liked the feeling of the weight of him, liked the way his legs tangled with mine, the way his mouth pressed against mine. I laughed as he slid his fingers between my fingers and held our hands up over my head and he kissed my neck and bit by bit we lost our clothes and tumbled together across the bed.

When we'd finished, and Nick lay across the bed breathing heavy, I pressed my ear against his chest where his heart was beating wildly in his chest. He ran his hand up and down my spine. "You're amazing, have I told you that?" he asked.

I laughed, "Why am I amazing?"

"Just... okay, I shouldn't say this 'cos it's like the classic line guys say and girls freak out in the movies but, you know this already but -- just, I've had a lot of sex in my day --"

"You mean there were other women before me?" I joked.

Nick laughed. "No never, I'm a virgin."

"Good."

"Seriously though, I've had a lot of sex and a lot of good sex. A lot of great sex..."

"Nick?"

"I swear this is going somewhere."

"It sounds like a walk down ho-bag memory lane."

"No dude, listen. I've had sex a lot but none of the sex I've had is even infantesmally close to being as fluffing amazing as yours."

I laughed.

"What? That was a compliment. Did I say it wrong?" he asked, worried.

I shook my head, "You said fluffing," I said.

"What?"

"You. You said as fluffing amazing."

Nick laughed, "So?"

"So you say fluff instead of fuck now," I laughed. My cheeks hurt, and Nick stared at me, a look of confusion on his face. "Oh my God Nick; three years ago if I told you that we'd be together and we'd have a baby and you'd be saying fluff instead of fuck, you would've run the hell away. You know that, right?"

"Nawh."

"Yeah-huh," I nodded. "You would've run away at the thought of sex with me."

"Nawh."

"Yes," I replied. "You used to get freaked out over the mere idea of sex with me. You called me your sister. Do you remember that?"

His face turned red.

"Yeah, see?" I shook my head, "I never wanted to be your sister. Or your wingman."

Nick smiled sadly, "I can't believe how much time I wasted with you right there under my nose. How many more years we could've had if I'd just... opened my damn eyes," he said.

I reached up and stroked his face.

"I'm just glad you're here now," I said, "The past doesn't matter..." I smiled. "We have our whole futures."

He pulled me closer and kissed me deeply.




Nick

The next morning, Ashley was a nervous wreck, dressing Zoey up in a little lady bug dress and shiney black shoes that Rochelle had brought over that one night. I was putting Patrick Kenney's address into the GPS. He lived in an apartment building down the street from Fenway Park, an area that I knew relatively well from tourist excursions in Boston over the years. A quick Google search on the guy had returned that he was a writing and English Literature professor at Boston University. He'd won an award for a book that he'd published that Spring on writing realistic characters.

Ashley tucked Zoey into her stroller. Pink Giraffe was attached to a clip that would keep him attached to the stroller if Zoey decided to throw him out. He looked sad with the metal clamp biting into his neck, but it was better than getting lost on the Boston subway. We took the T from the hotel, switching trains twice before we found ourselves emerging into Kenmore Square. We stopped by the Boston University Barnes and Noble so Ashley could buy a copy of Patrick's book, then we walked up the street to the apartment building, which loomed right up by the ball park.

The streets were crowded with people in Red Sox jerseys; it was obviously game day. Several passers-by stopped to ooh and aah at Zoey, and it proved to be a good thing that pink giraffe was clamped in because he would've been lost about a thousand times if it hadn't been for the clip. He hung, bungee jumper style from the side of the stroller. I tossed him back in for Zoey and she laughed.

When we reached the apartment building, Ashley's hands were shaking as we stared up at the brown stone building. I pressed the ringer on the apartment buzzer marked Kenney and after a moment or two, a deep voice came over the intercom. "Hello?"

"Hello, Mr. Kenney. My name is Nick... I'm here with my girlfriend, Ashley. We'd like to talk to you."

There was a pause. "May I ask what this is in regards to?"

I looked at Ashley. Ashley took a deep breath, "My mother was Monica Jackson."

There was another, longer pause. Then the buzzer rang and the door clicked open. I helped Ashley get Zoey and the stroller into the entry way, and she lifted Zoey out. I folded down the stroller and we carried our loads up the steps to the fifth floor.

A man with a wild bush of brown hair and wide green eyes was standing at the top. He had a beard and glasses that poked out of his hair. He looked like someone that lived in the woods tending to wolves or something. He was dressed in a shirt with a picture of that book On the Road on it and a pair of jeans that were ripped at one knee. He didn't look at all like I'd picture a college professor to look. "My God you look exactly like her," he said as Ashley approached. He looked at Zoey. "And she looks exactly like you. My God."

He opened a door behind him and Ashley stepped through it. Patrick looked at me and took the stroller, "Here, let me help you with that."

"Thanks."

He led the way down the hall to his apartment door, marked by a big brass number, and held it opened as Ashley and I stepped inside. The first thing I noticed upon stepping into the room was the picture that stood on a mantle over an electric fire place. If I didn't know any better I'd think it was Ashley herself in the photo.