“Is this what you want?” I ask quietly.
“Yes, I want you to come with me. I want to spend time with you. Besides, we’ll have fun.”
I nod, my resolve outweighing my concerns. “When should I get you?”
“How about eleven. I’ll be home from my Zumba class and showered by then.”
I’ll miss the yoga pants, I realize with despair. I agree because what choice do I have? As wrong as this feels right now, I can’t give up yet. Not at least until I learn what’s really going on in her mind and if I still have any chance at all.
Damn Brooke, evidently while you were away I lost my mojo, and you seemed to rediscover yours…your very own hip Mojo Jojo with the furry back and apparently impressive mind-control abilities.
• • •
For dinner that night I make tuna fish on Ritz crackers with cherry tomatoes on the side because I like the way those little red balls explode in my mouth. I’m trying to have a good attitude but even my favorite dinner doesn’t cheer me up. I’m just about ready to go to my studio when the phone rings.
“Hi Nathan.”
It’s unusual for her to call during the week so I am a bit alarmed. “Everything okay, Mom?”
“Yes, everything’s fine. I was just thinking about you and wanted to see how you’re doing.”
Moms and their intuition. If she’s going to ask, I’m not going to hold back.
“Well remember that scene where Sylvester thinks he’s flying up to Tweety’s nest and he gets so excited, but then he remembers that he can’t fly, and in despair, crashes to the ground? Well I’m Sylvester, and that pretty much sums up how things are going for me.”
“Oh no, that doesn’t sound good at all. What happened with Brooke?”
“She just came back from a romantic few days with her boyfriend and now we can’t have coffee together anymore in the afternoons. It’s the beginning of the end.”
“But Nathan, you knew from the start that she was with that man. Why are you surprised?”
“I just thought we were getting closer and had something special. But I must’ve been wrong.”
“Those things aren’t necessarily mutually exclusive, Nathan. She may care about him and you too. I could tell she really likes you and I would imagine you’ve gotten even closer since I saw you two together.”
“Yeah, you could say that,” I offer as I think about her asleep, curled up against me in her bed. My world felt perfect at that moment.
“Hasn’t she been with him a long time? Isn’t he her boss?”
“Yes,” I whisper. Don’t say it…don’t say it…
“It’s complicated Nathan.”
Damn. She said it.
“And you know what?”
Don’t say it…don’t say it…
“You have to have faith.”
Ugh. She said it. I knew she would.
I believe in Pixar, the tenacity of Walt Disney and number two pencils. I’m not so sure about a God who didn’t give me the skills or appeal to win my true love.
“But Mom, what kind of God would present me a Brooke and then take her away? And then she ends up with a damn monkey, not even someone that deserves her.”
“A monkey?” she asks bewildered.
“It’s a long story. Never mind.”
“Look Nathan, there’s a reason you both are going through this. I don’t know what it is but I do know it will make you stronger and even better if you finally get together. If you can find your faith it will get you through.”
“I wish I could believe that,” I moan.
“You’ll still see her around work, won’t you?”
“Not really, we’re on different floors. She did ask me to go shopping with her Saturday. What do you think that means. Do you think she thinks I’m gay?”
“No. She knows you’re not gay. Where do you come up with these things, really! It means she wants to spend time with you away from that Arnold’s world…some place you two can just be, without any pressure or people watching.”
“Really?” I suddenly feel more hopeful realizing she may be right.
“Yes,” she confirms. “I really think this can still work out, Nathan. So make the most of your shopping date. Be sweet and kind with her. Be yourself.”
I hold onto my mom’s words, they wrap around me and hold me up. She makes me want to believe in Santa, the Easter Bunny and my future with Brooke.
So for added motivation, after I crawl in bed, I wire myself up for the Dr. Wayne Dyer recording about relationships. I don’t fall asleep until he’s convinced me that I can take my destiny into my own hands. I can’t give up yet.
• • •
Saturday morning I get up early and take a run, eat some Fruit Loops and then shower and shave. I give myself a pep talk as I put on some of that cologne my mom gave me for Christmas. I’m looking my best and ready to go see Brooke.
When I pull up to her place she’s waiting by the gate. Either she’s really excited to see me or she doesn’t want me to go inside. I try to convince myself the former when I see the big smile on her face.
“Hey you!” she says as she slides into her seat. “Looking forward to our outing?”
“Well, I’m looking forward to being with you,” I reply smiling.
“What’s this?” She asks, pointing to the cup holder section of my car.
“Well, I know I can’t get you your macchiatos at work anymore, but that doesn’t mean I can’t other times,” I insist.
“Oh, Nathan,” she sighs happily, wedging her foamy drink out of the cup holder to take a sip. “You even did a drawing for me!” She holds it up and studies it with a big grin on her face.
“Yeah, it’s me post-shopping at the hip store.”
“Oh, it’s great! You’re so clever. Thank you.”
“Guess what else?” I grin as I reach in the back, grab the bag and set it on her lap.
“Krispy Kreme doughnuts!” she squeals.
“You didn’t…how could you? Now all my Zumba-ing is for naught.” She tears open the bag and pulls out a doughnut, immediately taking a bite.
“Sorry,” I mumble, grinning. But as I watch her close her eyes in anticipation of that warm sugary rush of perfection, I’m not sorry at all—not one little bit.
“Mmmm.” She closes her eyes as she chews. She has the most sublime expression on her face. “So good…”
As we wind down the hill towards the land of hip, she feeds me bites, in-between hers. I watch her lick her sticky fingers, her eyes dancing as she reaches into the bag for more to share.
I feel alive again, like a remastered cartoon print where every color is brighter and more vivid, every detail sharper. We laugh and joke in our own bubble, sugar flakes falling over us like snow on this brilliant California day.
Animate Me / Chapter Seventeen / Magic Jeans
“I was hiding under your porch because I love you.” ~Dug, from Pixar’s “Up”xvi
“So you’re trying on a ‘cute’ outfit at this Fred place?” I ask as we turn onto Melrose Avenue. “Cause if they have dressy yoga pants, that’d be my suggestion.” I grin, and as I glance over, I see she’s grinning too.
“Hmmm, maybe they have some stretchy black velvet ones,” she teases.
“Yeah, fancy ones like that. Now, we’re talking,” I agree.
“Well, my personal shopper picked a few things so we shall have to wait and see.”
“Personal shopper? What does that mean?”
“If left to my own devices, I would wear jeans and hoodies everywhere. So Arnauld has this woman who works at Fred Segal’s put things together for me. It annoyed me at first, but I have to admit that it saves me time because I don’t like shopping for clothes much.”
Svengali Arnold strikes again.
“Well, that makes two of us,” I agree. “My idea of clothes shopping is stuffing a few things in my cart at Target on the way to the video game aisle.”