Starts with a Match

Pressure Points

I haven't been much fun during this week at Maisie's. I've ignored everyone, I eat only when I think everyone's asleep. I stay up on my phone looking at houses.

First, I had to look up phone payment plans, since I'd never had one, then health insurance for me and Toby, then I had to make sure they had changed their name, their social security card, gotten everything switched over to me and Kooper. I was moderately surprised when they said they didn't mind taking my name.

Guess I was the only one thinking this could end in a divorce in a few years, once we've both gotten what we needed. Safety, sanity, all that.

I was worried we wouldn't be allowed to get married at all, since I thought you had to have at least met the person a few times before you could tie the knot like that, and there was some sort of waiting period of a few days, at least.

But I guess it used to be like that, before the plague—now the court really doesn't care. As long as you're not scamming shit or hiding your bloodwork on your marriage certificate, cause that's a thing now, they don't bother to check anything else.

Toby's type O positive. I throw that into my messy Toby Fritz Kooper knowledge, along with the fact that they like to over butter their toast, and they like being barefoot in the grass when they take Maisie's pit bull Bianca outside.

It's annoying and weird and uncomfortable. I think I was in love with the idea of them at one point in Rustavi. Here's this person who went above and beyond with the stupid leaf, who sent me stuffed animals and who cared about me and told me to stay safe and signed their letters, 'yours, Toby'.

Can't ask Toby to say that in person. What would that sound like? They'd say they're my Toby? Am I their Kevin?

No. Did I mention I'm currently drunk on the floor of Maisie's basement?

I'm pouting.

I think I upset Toby. Upstairs while they and Maisie worked on a puzzle, I was showing the two of them house after house. Maisie had some nice things to say about some, she tried to keep it positive, while Bianca sat by me with her gray head on my knee.

But Toby stopped looking at the pictures and started to just hum, and after house I think four or twelve they grunted that they had to go out and smoke. I reminded them that it was pouring rain.

They ignored me and the sliding back door slammed closed so hard it bounced back open and Bianca abandoned me and went trotting out after them, tail wagging with concern.

I watched them stand on Maisie's back porch, unlit cig between their fingers. Watched them put it back in their pocket and cross their arms and lean their forehead to their arms on the balcony.

"They just need a minute," said Maisie, standing next to me with her head hardly coming to my elbow. She smiled at me with kind blue eyes and soft blonde hair that's cut short like Margie.

I nodded in silence and went back to my room to the six pack I bought at Walmart earlier when I said I was only going out to get us all McDonald's.

My phone lights up, and I look at the blurry words. Toby says they're sorry. They say to just pick a place, they'll like whatever it is, cause at least it won't be an empty home without their roommates.

I doubt that's true. I poke, just a little, just enough cause I'm just tipsy enough to not care if I further bug them. I ask if they're sure, quadruple sure, that there's nothing they want in a house specifically.

All I get back is, "A bedroom door that locks". I try to not take offense to that.