"I bet he won't even ask his boss," I say resting her head on Will's arm. "It's his secret goal to keep you here as long as possible."
"He seemed to have changed his tune when I mentioned the evaluation. We have a decent chance." I can tell he doesn't believe that. We would have a decent chance if we weren't just dating, but that's not something I'll bring up. We are at an awfully young age to be married, and I don't want Will to stress about me not being satisfied with our current relationship.
"Two days," Will reminds me for the hundredth time.
"We can always try and sneak you out for a night," I suggest. "Franco leaves by five and we could bribe the nurse that checks on you not to say anything. It could work." The second I thought of the idea, I meant it as a joke, but the more I think about it, the more I believe it could actually work. Sure we'd get in big trouble and Will would probably have to say longer, but it would definitely put his mind at rest knowing the event went well.
"One step at a time, Rosie. Let's see if we can get out the easy way before we break out."
"I thought you'd jump at the idea."
Will smirks. "I've already thought of that. I've also thought about bribing Frankie, knocking him out with sleeping pills, talking to his boss, getting Vin to distract him and the nurse for as long as possible, and a few others. We can pick the best one if Plan A doesn't work out."
I should have known he already had Plans B through J already figured out.
"I understand you want to be there to make sure everything goes perfectly, but don't you trust Vinny? Your plans are detailed to the point of describing the color of the icing on the cupcakes. I think Vinny has plenty of enough information to go off of."
"The icing is very important. It has to fit the color scheme of the event or everything goes to shit." I can tell he's trying to make light of the subject, but there's a strong hint of seriousness in his tone. This event really means a lot to him.
"Am I missing something?" I ask looking straight into his eyes in an attempt to figure out the source of his conviction. Will's a perfectionist. There's no doubting that. But there's something about the way his face lights up with excitement and nervousness and determination when he talks about this particular show.
"What?"
"What's so special about this event? Is someone special coming?" I haven't seen the list of people attending. "Is it the charity?" I have no idea what the charity is for. "Does your job depend on it or something?" For the amount that Will talks about this show, there's a lot I don't know.
"I'm hosting," he states. "Simple as that. Everything has to be perfect when I'm hosting. Everything falls back on me."
I believe him, but not completely. There has to be more to it, or I might be paranoid. I don't have time to question him further because we're interrupted by the sound of the door. I'm hoping that it's Franco with news from his boss, but Leah walks in. I would say I'm disappointed, but I'm too surprised to be disappointed.
"Will," she says with a warm smile towards him. "Jessi, wonderful to see you too." She's dressed impeccably as always. I don't know how she can have the patience to do her long dark hair and professional looking makeup every day. Not only that, but I've never seen her wear the same dress twice, and it's always a dress. Today's is green, and unusual color for her, but it matches her eyes beautifully.
"Leah," Will says dispassionately. Leah came to visit the day Will was admitted, but I haven't seen her since. It's not a topic Will enjoys talking much about. He's still battling with himself whether he should completely forgive her. I'm the same way with my mom, but Will's a lot farther along than I am. I've had one pretty harsh conversation with my mom since the incident with Ethan, and time hasn't calmed me down as much as I thought it would.
"How are you feeling?" She walks around to the opposite side of the bed from me, her heels clicking on the hard ground.
"Perfectly fine. It'd be great if you could reinforce that fact to the doctor if you see him."
"I'll be sure to. I want you to be at the show as much as you do."
"I doubt that," he says, once again playing with the unnecessary needle in his arm. I can tell how much he wants to take it out. One of these days he's going to if we don't leave here soon. "But thank you," he adds as an afterthought.
"Have you had dinner yet?" she asks half to me and half to Will.
"Yes," Will says before I can say the opposite. "Well, I have. Jess hasn't. How about you guys go out to eat. I'm in the mood for a nap anyway."
One: Will hasn't eaten. Two: I had already explained to Will that I had a big lunch and was only going to have a snack for dinner. Three: I've never seen Will take a nap, or even mention a nap before. Four: Nobody takes a nap at dinner time. It's the homestretch until bedtime.
I agree regardless. I know Will doesn't particularly like being around Leah, and getting me to go out with her will make her leave. And I like Leah. I've only gotten to know the strong and kind Leah that lives in North Carolina, and she's a joy to be around. I didn't have to live with California Leah like Will did, so I'll never be able to truly understand their relationship, even though I try.
Leah seems pleased with the idea of dinner, even though I think she was hoping for more quality conversation with Will. She knows as well as I do that Will can only tolerate so much of her at one time, and she accepts it. Her smiles drops a little and she hesitates before touching his arm, but she never pushes him. I've got to admire her for that.
"I think I can only eat something light," I say on the way to the car.
"Me too. There's a place with great grilled chicken down the street." Leah probably knows where the best food is in all of North Carolina. It always seems like her car is gone from the house, either out with Ethan, or friends, or an art group. The socialite of the town. I should be honored to be having a one on one dinner.
The venue is beautiful, the waiter is kind, the wine (which I was offered without being asked for an ID) looked elegant even though I declined, and Leah is great company. We talk a lot about art, her specialty and my hobby, and about art groups and art shows. She glazes over the topic of Will's upcoming show, but doesn't mention anything specific. I ask her if Will is always so anxious about the shows he hosts in hopes of gaining some new information, but she only says, "He's such a fusspot. I'm sure the event will be wonderful as always whether he's there or not." That didn't answer my question at all, but I let it go.
Maybe he's hiding something that no one knows about. Maybe he's displaying one of his own paintings, like the one he made for me. In which case, I'm sure Leah would know nothing about it.
"I heard from the grapevine that you two are moving in someplace together," she says suddenly as if it's all she's been thinking about and couldn't find a way to transition into the topic. It takes me a second to figure out what she's talking about.
"Oh, I thought Will mentioned it to you." I don't know why I thought that. I can't imagine Will walking over to Leah's side of the house to talk about living arrangements.
"It must have slipped his mind," he says a little sadly. We both know that's not true.
"The plans on hold for a little while." I bring the conversation back to the relationship between me and Will. I don't feel completely comfortable talking about Leah and Will's relationship because I'll never be able to understand it on their level.
"Of course you'd want to wait until he's out of the hospital." I think that goes without saying. "The doctor seems persuadable. He puts on a façade to make him look like a big bad doctor, but I think they'll let him go to the event."
"I hope so."
I move the peas around on my plate. Not polite, but it's distracting. I don't want to think about what will happen if Will can't go to his event. He might explode. He's already been on the verge of exploding, and I know there will be a large number of casualties if it actually happens.
"So after that?" Leah asks. "You'll move in together after that?"
She doesn't look upset like I thought she'd be. She actually looks happy. Will's always been her baby, her only son, her only child. Even though he's twenty-two now, I thought she's still be saddened by the idea of him leaving.
"I-I'm not sure-"
"Darling," She reaches across the table and places her hand on mine. "I want you to know that as much as I love Will, I want him to move on. It's not good for him to stay in that house. He needs to start over with his own family. I truly believe that will be with you."
I went from zero to the edge of tears in five seconds. I want that too. I want that for Will, for both of us. The family that Will was born into might have been screwed up, but I have the chance to give him the family that he's always wanted. We have the chance to make up for the mistakes that his parents made. Just the thought of it makes me almost burst into tears.
"Thank you," I say but it comes out more as a whisper. I need to get the thoughts of Will and I and our fictional children out of my head. "We will move in together at some point. It's just about saving up money right now."
Leah looks at me like I've grown a third head. "Money?" You would think she's never heard of the word.
"I know you didn't ask Will to pay back your favors, but he's insisted upon it. And his job as president didn't exactly work out. But I think he said Vinny was going to give him a pay raise, so-"
"Darling," she gently interrupts. "He was done paying me back months ago."
I'm glad I had already set my fork on my plate, because otherwise it would have fallen from my hand.
"What?"
"Of course I insisted that he not worry about it, but you know him. He's been saving some and giving me some for a while now, all of which I donate to the local hospital because I have no use for it. I told him, I told him I wasn't even keeping the money, but he continued to give it to me. Anyway, that's been done for months now. He's officially 'paid back my favors.'"
Another corkscrew. I feel like I'm always getting thrown through corkscrew with Will. I think everything is fine and sorted, and then I find out something like this.
"Maybe he still doesn't have enough," I say trying to rationalize his actions. "Maybe what he makes now wouldn't be enough for a house or apartment."
"Do you have any idea how much money he makes at his job?" No, I don't. I have no concept of how much people in the corporate art world make. I originally thought it was a lot, since Leah was so well off, even before she met Ethan, but I questioned that when I started seeing the specifics of Will's life. He doesn't spend money on anything excessive. He has a car that's better than most, but not over the top. He bought me that painting, but I'm sure he got a deal on it from his work. The house he lives in is very extravagant, but it's not his. He doesn't even like it. I just assumed that he didn't make as much money as I thought. It felt rude to ask.
"I've never asked him," I tell Leah, slightly embarrassed that I have no idea.
"You two could be living in the white house with all the money he's saved up. The head of a department in the biggest art company in the state is huge. Not to mention he's the best at his job. He's probably making close to what the president makes with all the revenue he brings in from the events he helps with."
All this information is clustering in my head and I can't sort it out. Will makes a ton of money. Okay, I should have figured that out a while ago. Will was claiming to use all of it to pay back Leah. He's only been using half of it, saving the rest, and he's been done with that for months. So where's all that money going? Not into a house for us. If that was the case, we'd be out the second we both agreed on the idea. Where ever it's going, it's more important to him than moving away from Ethan. I didn't think there was a thing in the world that could top that.
I feel kind of ashamed that I have to admit to Leah I don't know where any of Will's money is going. We're at the point of moving in with each other and I don't know what he uses 90% of his income for.
I start to ask Leah what she thinks, to get an idea what he could be using all his money for, but she just shakes her head.
"You'll have to ask him."
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Why did the math book go to the therapist?
Because it had a lot of problems.
BAHAHAHA (kind of an old joke, but I still think it's funny)
Next update will be Wednesday!
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