99 Percent Mine(39)

Time to be a grown up again.

Tom lives outside my bedroom window, down on the grass, just like the Valeska I pictured as a child. No one would make it past that tent to my studio’s glass door. Right now, his tent is zipped shut. He’s being very quiet in there.

I walk up to the front and scratch my fingers lightly on the flap. Patty scratches back. “Tom? Is the water turned off inside? I’m busting.”

Every time I go to use a basic amenity, it’s off. Or on, but can’t be used. It’s infuriating.

There’s no sound and no reply. I unzip a corner just big enough for Patty to squeeze through. She stampedes to the nearest clump of grass and pees endlessly. I’m almost ready to join her. “Tom? Are you in there?”

“What?” His voice is blurry from sleep. There’s a pause. “Oh fuck.” There’s a rustling sound, some struggling grunts, and Tom forces his way out of the tent like he’s being born. “Fuck. What time is it?” He looks me up and down; hair and makeup and black.

“Five thirty.” Anyone could hear how proud I am.

“My phone died. I slept in. Fuck.” He rubs both of his hands over his face and his T-shirt slides up higher than his belly button. His phone isn’t the only one who is now dead. That’s the kind of flat, hard stomach you’d be able to sign an important document against, with a ballpoint pen.

Safer, I remind myself reflexively as my body responds, warming and pinching. Safer. Just the word gives me the strength to refocus my eyes somewhere that isn’t his body or face.

“Thank God you woke up.” He sighs like I have saved his life.

“No biggie.”

“You … haven’t just gotten home, have you?” He looks down from my makeup to my clothes. There’s a little spark of vulnerability in that one-second glance. Does he imagine I’ve been with a man?

“I worked late at the bar, and I set my alarm like a grown-up. I’ve been right here. I’m always going to be right here.”

It makes him blow out a breath. He drops his arms and the visible slice of stomach disappears. I blow out a breath, too.

“You once told me that bad girls go to bed at six A.M.”

I’m not touching that one. “Is the water turned on in the house or not?”

“Yes, the water’s still on.” He disappears into his tent in a fluster. “Damn it. My guys will be here any second.” There’s the sound of clothes stretching. They make tents way too sturdy these days.

I go into my bedroom and get the new powerpack I bought at the same time as my phone. Another one of my pitiful efforts at responsibility.

“Plug your phone into this.”

“This is off to a fucking great start,” he is muttering to himself. A hand reaches out for the powerpack. “Please don’t tell Jamie that I slept in. He won’t let me forget it.”

“Don’t worry. I know what he’s like. He’ll tell the story for years. But your travel time is approximately thirty yards this morning, so you’re not late. You’re going to be fine.” It’s sad how hard he is on himself. “Even if you slept in until nine A.M., everything would be okay.”

“No, it wouldn’t,” he responds from his tent with a bit of temper in his tone. “I am doing everything perfectly.” The word sounds like a burden. I was the one that placed it on him. We all have.

I use the bathroom and brush my teeth, then walk around the empty house as the magical morning light begins to shine in sideways. I feel like everything’s happening too fast; in the flurry of packing and avoiding Tom, I forgot that this is all about to be in my past. I’m not ready to say goodbye to this. I go to the wall and smooth my hands over it, feeling the old wallpaper crackle. How can I keep this forever?

“I love you,” I whisper to the house. “Thank you. I’m sorry.” I go to the fireplace. I’ll make sure they cover it up with some sheets so it doesn’t get damaged. Each nail hammered in by Loretta is precious. I wonder how many little connections to her I’m about to lose as this house is stripped to its bones. I turn on the spot and I ache to ask Tom to cancel everything.

If I looked him in the eye and pleaded with him, he’d do it.

There’s a knock on the front door. I open it to find three men standing there in pristine polo shirts, embroidered with Valeska Building Services. I am speechless with pride. I can’t believe I almost considered asking Tom to ruin his life. He’s worth more than old wallpaper. That’s what I need to focus on: This is Tom’s big chance.

Bartender 101? Find the alpha. “Girl Scouts again? Fuck off.”

The bald one looks back at the street, checking he has the right house. The young guy grins. The old one purses his lips. There he is.

“I’m just fucking with you. I’m Darcy. Tom’s nude right now, but he’ll be right with you.”

“I’m not nude,” Tom snaps in irritation, striding into the room. He looks like he’s been very recently nude; his hair is a mess, and he’s got a shadow of stubble and a pillow crease on his cheek. How luscious. “Darcy, please behave yourself.”

I hold my hands up. “I cannot be responsible for what I say before six A.M. And before coffee. Now, pay attention. I want this fireplace cared for like it is a human child.” I pat my hand on the mantelpiece and go into the kitchen.