Playing It Safe(85)

“Please don’t. It’s worse coming from you of all people. No offense.”

“None taken,” he says. “How are you doing?”

“Let’s see … I’ve definitely had better days, and if the remote doesn’t magically come to me, I’m going to be forced to watch the 700 Club for the rest of my life. So yeah, on a scale of one to ten on the suckage scale, I’d say I’m about a solid nine right about now.”

“I was thinking maybe I’d come by and keep you company for a little while,” he says.

I almost choke on the dollop of peanut butter I’ve just eaten clean off my finger.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Um,” I sputter while still trying to clear my throat. “Yeah, I’m fine. Listen, Aiden, I don’t think that would be a good idea right now.”

“Have you eaten dinner?” he asks out of left field.

“No, not really, but I don’t see how—”

“I’ll swing by and bring you something to eat,” he says, interrupting me.

“Aiden, I really—”

“Julia, please let me do this. I feel awful and would really like to make it up to you.”

“I am hungry, but—”

“Great, I’ll be there in about half an hour,” he says and then hangs up after saying a quick good-bye.

I stare at the phone still in my hand, wondering what just happened. The only rational explanation that I can come up with is that I’ve crossed over into the Twilight Zone. It’s either that or coming to terms with the fact that I’ve somehow agreed to eat a meal in my house with my engaged ex-boyfriend while I’m feeling sorry for myself about Alex. And that sounds absolutely insane, so I’m going to go with the Rod Serling explanation on this one.

This also means that I’ll have to cut short my pursuit of how many days I can go without a shower. My personal best is four days, and that stretch was due to the one and only Aiden. Not that I’m particularly proud of it, but it’s an accomplishment nonetheless.

I drag my ass to the bathroom and take a brisk shower and then get dressed and don’t even blow-dry my hair. Before I make it back to my home base on the couch, I unlock the door so I won’t have to be bothered to stand up again when he gets here.

Dammit all to hell.

I forgot to pick up the remote control before I sat back down, so it looks like I’ll be stuck watching this crap until Aiden shows up. Instead of trying to make sense of the ramblings coming from my television, I try to figure out why he’s even coming. He said something about wanting to make it up to me. Again with the absolution bullshit. Or am I that much of a bitch that I can’t wrap my head around the fact that he’s really trying to be sincere and genuinely feels bad about the current state of affairs? I massage my temples as the light throbbing in my head gets worse with each minute that I sit here trying to analyze Aiden’s motives. I give up. Maybe he truly does want to make amends, and hey, I’m getting a meal out of his repentance, so there’s that.


A few moments later a knock on the door breaks me out of my thoughts. I shout to let him know that the door is unlocked, and it slowly swings open. Aiden pokes his head inside, and as soon as he spots me on the couch, his smile widens.

“Can I come in?”

“Enter at your own risk.”

He chuckles as he closes the door behind him. In his hand is a white nondescript bag with visible grease stains. My stomach grumbles in response.

Aiden glances at the television as he comes closer. “Shit, you weren’t kidding with the whole 700 Club thing, huh?”

My eyes are still focused on the bag of food when I answer him. “Nope, and if you don’t mind, can you please hand me that remote control over there?”

I point toward the far corner of the ottoman where the goddamn thing has been taunting me for the last couple of hours. He picks it up and then hands it to me, and I immediately start browsing the channel guide until I settle on a Friends rerun.

It’s then that I get a whiff of the food in the bag. And if my olfactory senses are still attuned to anything and everything that comes from Sergio’s, then he’s brought me one of my favorite things to eat in the entire world.

“Is that what I think it is?” I ask.

“What?” he asks, then lifts the bag up to his eye level. “You mean this?”

I nod just as my stomach starts to growl again. “Did you bring me a frita?”

“I did,” he says, handing me the bag with a huge grin on his face. “I remembered how much you used to love them. I was hoping you still do.”

He sits down next to me as I dig in and take my first bite. “Oh. My. God.”

“Good?”

I answer him by taking another bite.

While I’m devouring my food, we sit side by side in silence with the occasional chuckle brought on by something funny on the television. Him being here does feel all kinds of weird, but I don’t want to say anything about it yet. At least not until I’m done eating. At that point, I can politely say thanks for the grub and call it a night. After my last bite and during the next commercial break, I get up to get rid of my garbage and start thinking of the best way I can do exactly that. As I open up the refrigerator door to grab a Diet Dr. Pepper, Aiden sneaks up on me though and scares the living shit out of me.