Forever, Interrupted(13)

He walked closer to the rail and judged the distance. “That’s actually quite far. You were going to try to do that?”

I nodded. “But I have little regard for my own safety,” I said. “And a very bad sense of distance.”

Ben nodded. “Okay. I’m going to jump this thing, but you have to make me a promise.”

“Okay. You got it.”

“If I fall and hurt myself, you won’t let them call my emergency contact.”

I laughed. “Why is that?”

“Because that’s my mother and I blew her off for lunch today so I could see you.”

“You blew off your mom for me?”

“See? It doesn’t make you look very good either, letting me do it. So do we have an agreement?”

I nodded firmly. “You got it.” I put out my hand to shake. He looked me in the eye and dramatically shook it, as a smile crept back onto his face.

“Here we go!” he said, and he just jumped it, like it was nothing, pulled his legs up and out, grabbed on to the patio rail, and swung his leg over.

“Okay! Now what?” he asked.

I was mortified to admit the next part of my plan. I hadn’t considered how he would fare against the doggie door.

“Oh. Well. Hmm. I was just gonna . . . I was going to crawl in through the doggie door there,” I said.

He looked behind him and down. Seeing it through his eyes, I realized it was even smaller than I’d thought.

“This doggie door?”

I nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry! I should have mentioned that part first maybe.”

“I cannot fit through that door, I don’t think.”

“Well, you could try to help me get over there,” I said.

“Right. Or I could jump back over and we could call your friend Ana.”

“Oh! That too.” I had already forgotten that option.

“Okay, well. I might as well try once now that I’m here. Hold on.”

He bent down and peeked in. His head fit in fine and he kept trying to push through. His shirt got caught in the door and was pulled up around his chest. I could see his stomach and the waistband of his underwear. I realized how physically attracted I was to him, how masculine he was. His abs looked solid and sturdy. His back was tanned and defined. His arms, flexed as he lifted himself through, looked strong and . . . capable. I had never before been attracted to the idea of being protected by someone, but Ben’s body looked like it could protect me and I was surprised at the reaction it elicited in me. I wondered how I got here exactly. I barely knew this man and I was objectifying him as he broke into my apartment. He finally got both shoulders through and I could hear muffled tones of “I think, actually, I can do it!” and “Ow!” His butt disappeared and his legs slid inside. I walked around to my front door as he opened it, beaming, arms wide. I felt traditional and conventional, a damsel in distress saved by the strapping man. I thought that women who were attracted to that were stupid, but I also did, just for a moment, feel like Ben was my hero.

“Come on in!” he said. It was such a surreal reversal of how I imagined our lunch would start that I couldn’t help but feel a bit exhilarated. I couldn’t possibly predict what would happen next.

I stepped inside, and he looked around my apartment.

“This is a really nice apartment,” he said. “What do you do?”

“Those two sentences in a row mean ‘How much money do you make?’ ” I said. I wasn’t being bitchy; at least I didn’t feel like I was. I was teasing him, and he was teasing me back when he said, “Well, it’s just hard for me to imagine that a woman could afford such a nice place on her own.”

I gave him a look of mock indignation, and he gave me one right back.

“I’m a librarian.”

“Got it,” he said. “So you’re doing well. This is good. I’ve been looking for a baby mama.”

“A baby mama?”

“Sorry. Not a baby mama. What’s it called when a woman pays for all the stuff for the man?”

“A sugar mama?”

He looked mildly embarrassed, and it was so charming to see. He had seemed so in control up until that moment, but seeing him even the slightest bit vulnerable was . . . intoxicating.

“Sugar mama. That’s what I meant. What’s a baby mama?”

“That’s when you aren’t married to the woman who is the mother of your child.”

“Oh. No, I’m not looking for one of those.”

“I don’t know if anyone looks for one.”

“Right. It just works out that way for them, I guess. People do look for sugar mamas, though, so watch out.”

“I’ll be on guard.”

“Shall we go?” he said.

“Sure. Let me just grab my—”

“Keys.”

“I was going to say wallet! But yes! Keys too. Can you imagine if I’d forgotten those again?” I grabbed them off the counter, and he took them delicately out of my hand.

“I’m going to be in charge of the keys,” he said.

I nodded. “If you think that’s best.”





JUNE


I wake up to the ugly, disgusting world over and over again, each time closing my eyes tightly when I remember who I am. I finally get up around noon, not because I feel ready to face the day but because I can no longer face the night.