23. Alexis
“Don’t you dare laugh.”
”Alexis!” Jason gasps, his face turning red as he tries not to laugh. ”What you”re asking is impossible. I”m sorry.” He then proceeds to fall apart he”s laughing so hard.
Why is Jason laughing? Great question.
My devil cat decided it would be a smart idea to parkour around the apartment this morning while Jason and I slept. And somehow, her tiny lil’ nine-pound body managed to connect with my bookshelf with enough force to send it crashing to the floor. The sound was so loud that it jump scared me awake so hard I fell out of bed and peed myself a bit out of fear and confusion.
And Jason? What did he do? That motherfucker slept through the whole thing.
How? No idea. But he sure as shit woke up when I smacked him in the face with a pillow five times.
And now he’s laughing at the carnage.
“This isn’t funny!”
”I”m sorry, babe, but it is. Slinky is tiny, and how she managed this is beyond me. And you?”
”Don”t you fucking say a thing about me.” I glare at him hard, opening my eyes wide in what my family affectionately calls my crazy eyes, so he knows I mean business. We may not have been dating for long, but Jason knows what this look means.
”Woah, woah, woah, ok. It”s no longer funny.” His hands land on my shoulders, rubbing the tension knots that are permanently there. ”Tell you what, you hop in the shower, and I”ll get started on cleaning this up. Then we can go to the store later and buy you a new shelf.”
Yes, because not only did my cat somehow knock over the bookshelf, it landed on my couch in a way that completely demolished the structure. There’s no saving it. At least I didn’t have any breakable things on it, only books.
I nod and shuffle to the bathroom, simultaneously furious with Slinky and incredibly relieved she didn”t kill herself. I spend a lot of time just standing under the hot water, trying to get it to erase the fact that I actually peed myself in fear.
To be fair, it wasn”t like I released my whole bladder or anything. But it”s still humiliating.
Much, much later, I step out of the bathroom to find the bookshelf is gone, wood chips cleared, and my books are stacked neatly against the wall. The apartment is quiet, so Jason must have stepped out to get coffee; a quick glance at his spot on my key holder confirms it. A few days ago, we exchanged keys for easy access and safety. It was weirdly serious and emotional? Like the keys symbolized how deeply we felt and cared somehow? It was weird and wonderful.
I”m fully dressed and feel less hateful toward my cat when Jason returns with coffee and pastries. Before forcing ourselves to the store, we do our normal morning routine on my balcony. We”re at the point in our relationship where either of us could get recognized in public, so we both wear ball caps and sunglasses whenever we do shit like this.
It would be exhausting if Jason didn’t make it fun.
”Ok, today, we”re Mr. and Mrs. Smith, and we”re on a mission to find an evil mafia lord hell-bent on blowing up the Hollywood sign.”
Every time we go out like this, he comes up with a prompt, and we have to act our way through the store or event following the prompt. Last time we were secret lovers from Regency England, and we couldn”t touch openly in public. I also pretended to faint a few times so that Jason had to catch me. We always end up spending more time acting out scenes than we do the actual task we”re out in public to do. But it takes the pressure off being out and being seen and makes me laugh.
The added bonus is that almost every candid photo of us out there is us laughing or having fun. They”re the type of photos that show how much we love and respect each other. I even used one for my phone background. Which is a bit ridiculous.
So today, we’re spies. Slowly moving up and down the furniture store aisles. Peeking around corners, trying to find our enemy before they find us.
We get the odd look here and there, but mostly, we fly under the radar. And most importantly, we have fun, and this morning”s shock begins to fade away.
A few hours and a lunch break later, we’re back at my apartment. The box containing the new shelving unit staring at me from the floor. Jason had to take a call and went back to his own apartment. Something to do with the release schedule and press for his upcoming movie.
So, here I am, alone, eyeing the box like it’s an uncrackable safe instead of cardboard.
”Alright, Alexis, you can do this. Your boyfriend very nicely cleaned everything up, went with you to pick out a bigger and better bookcase, and helped you get it inside. You are a smart woman. You went to med school, and you”re almost done with residency. You can open this box, follow the directions, and build this damn thing all by yourself.”
Slinky takes this exact moment to yowl at me loudly from the couch, clearly saying Ha! Yeah, good luck with that. She has no faith in me, clearly.
Using a pair of kitchen scissors, I slice open the box and start yanking things out. All the while chanting in my head: I can do this, I can do this, I can do this.
***
“I CAN’T DO THIS!”
I”ve flopped on the ground, pieces strewn everywhere, the directions packet tossed across the room. Nothing makes sense, and I feel like an idiot. Tears of shame are leaking out of my eyes, and I can”t even be bothered to wipe them away.
Jason chooses this moment to walk in.
He stands there momentarily, observing me in the middle of the chaos, tipping his head to one side.
”This must not be going well, hunh?” He says it so neutrally, without a drop of judgment or humor, like it”s no big deal that I can”t figure this out. Which, of course, sets off a wave of tears.
He gets down on the floor with me and helps me sit up. While wiping my tears, he kisses my brow. All at once, tension leaves my body. I may not know how to build pre-fab furniture, but I have a partner who will help me. Always.
”Why don”t you get started on dinner, and I”ll tackle this. Sound good?” I nod mutely, pulling him in for a quick peck before getting up and starting dinner. While I cook, he builds. By the time I have the table set, the bookcase is up and ready for my books. Why is he so wonderful?
”Jason, food”s ready. Let”s eat and then put my books away after. Maybe we should watch Princess Bride in the background?”
”Perfect idea.” He sits next to me at the table and rubs his hands together at the sight of the spaghetti and meatballs I made. It”s nothing fancy. I didn”t have much energy to do anything too crazy, but with the amount of garlic I add to the pasta sauce, it”s fucking good.
We leave the dishes for tomorrow and spend our evening watching our movie and methodically reorganizing my books. There”s nothing wildly different about tonight; we”ve done similar things together plenty of times. But for some reason, it feels like something shifted tonight. In a way that”s irreversible. And it doesn”t scare me.