Anne, Brody and and several dinner guests are sitting in a sprawling living room, enjoying a lavish cheese and wine spread accompanied with various sliced meats. The light and engaging atmosphere is accented by a touch of Dave Brubeck's "Blue Rondo Ala Turk" being played softly in the background. The warm vibe in the room supports the notion that these people have been friends for a long time. It is a love fest; an affectionate assembly at its best, spread over polished, hand-detailed, hardwood floors.
Anne and Brody are engaged in the free-flowing social commentary, as Michelle Bodney, hostess of the party and owner of the lavish Upper East Side apartment, leads the discussion.
"...so all I'm saying is that we should have a say in whether or not we want to pay taxes. That's all."
"Please excuse my wife. She knocked her head against one of the cabinets last week. I think it's had some lasting effects." Tom Bodney, Michelle's meek, yet extra friendly husband responds.
"I've had these feelings before we even met honey."
"I was trying to give you a way out, but..."
"I don't need a way out..."
"Giving citizens the option to not pay their taxes? That's crazy!"
Mike Jameson, WASPy Republican and long time friend of Tom, chimes in with, "Whose gonna fix the potholes on my block? Whose gonna repair the tunnels and bridges?"
"More importantly, how are the sports arenas going to be built?" Brody asks.
"Two words. Private contractors." Michelle responds.
Lisa Unez, a beautiful, confident, thirty-eight year old, single mother of two, interjects with, "You're nuts. The private sector? People can barely support themselves these days. Sports arenas and potholes aside, what about public assistance? You guys know I would have been dead in the water right after Brian and Mindy were born without that help."
"How are the twins? Anne blurts out to Lisa as she desperately wants and needs to change the subject. She feels herself falling back into the familiar space of her feeling inadequate and not being able to contribute to the conversation due to the subject matter being over her head. "I miss them. You should've brought them along." She continues.
"And have them destroy Michelle's newly waxed floors?" Lisa responds.
"No they would not mess up Michelle's hardwood floors. But, they could have beat up the carpeted floors upstairs with Gabriel. He would've love the company. He keeps saying, "Ma. Can I have a brother?" It's so cute." Michelle says.
"What do you think about Gabriel getting a sidekick? Should I be on the lookout for a shower invite?" Anne asks Michelle.
Michelle and Tom look at each other and seem at a loss for words. Tom tenderly takes Michelle's hand then speaks, "We have been trying with no luck just yet, but soon."
Awkward silence fills the room for a moment as Michelle and Tom shift in their seats. The guests notice the uneasiness of the couple, and Anne immediately feels guilty. She begins to feel a river of blood rushing to her cheeks. Nice one Lamberty. Way to put them on the spot. Your public personal interrogation technique remains flawless.
"Well, just know that second one comes out much easier than the first." Says Lisa, snapping the downward spiral.
"Really?" Michelle inquires.
"I mean, one came right after the other for me, but yeah, it was a cakewalk. I almost fell asleep."
"No way!" Anne reacts.
"Yup! The nurses had to keep nudging me because I was nodding off."
"Probably was the drugs." Brody jests.
"Ha! You wish mister. Okay, maybe it was the drugs, but you can't deny the finished product!" Lisa states as the group of old friends share a laugh. She reaches over, touches Anne's hand and says to her, "When it's your time honey, embrace the morphine. Become friends with it. Worship it! It will guide you through to the end."
"Thought that was my job." Brody says.
"Your job? You have no job! You did this to her! The best thing you can do is smile and keep your mouth shut as she swears at you and bites down on your knuckles. Become like a catcher of sorts, absorbing the "fuck you's", and the "low-life dirty bastards," like a sponge!" Lisa exclaims.
"Are you two planning on having a little one?" Michelle asks Brody.
"It's in our future, but the timing has to be right."
In the middle of the conversation, Anne's mind wanders back to her favorite toy when she was a little girl, a brown-haired, brown-eyed doll named Kristina. She'd dress her slim, plastic companion in pretty little dresses, and style her hair for hours until it started to fall out. Kristina would cuddle and sleep with Anne every night, and talk to her when she had a bad day and needed to be comforted.
For Anne, Kristina was the closest she'd get to having a daughter to date. While she's been ready for motherhood for some time, she's always been very careful about who she'll ultimately choose to be the father of her children, as she's committed to rearing a healthy, disease-free child in a complete, two-parent family. Thus, she's been very picky when it comes to her sexual partners, and outside of a committed, monogamous relationship, she has always practiced safe sex. She's never been pregnant, and has never considered becoming pregnant with anyone except Brody.
"Let me tell you something, the timing's never right. Even when you think you have it all together, there'll be something you missed. Plus she's got that clock you have to worry about. How old are you? Twenty-two? Twenty-three?" Lisa asks Anne.
"Twenty-six." Anne answers.
Lisa noticeably gasps. "The time is now sweetie, while you're young."
"I know, I know. I really want kids. I really do. Things just have to be right that's all." Anne says as she makes eyes with Brody.
"Things like what?" Lisa asks.
"We're not financially ready. It'll take me a little more time to pass the bar and Anne...well, Anne...we're just really not where we'd like to be in our careers just yet. Let's just say that." Brody says as he continues to try make eyes with Anne, but now, she looks away. Once again, she's been placed in the inadequacy corner. Self-doubt creeps in and flops on her back like a two-ton potato sack. The weight is unbearable. "Once we get some lead-way in that department, we'll start giving it some heavy consideration." Brody continues.
"You've got a better chance at winning the lotto than having your career's put you in the position to be totally financially ready for a child. Twenty-six. Primetime. There's some good things happening down there at twenty-six. The pear's churning nicely. The fallopians are greased just right. The good, supple eggs are floating through there. You wait too long, and those tubes'll become jagged; snagging and breaking all the good eggs. Now, only the hard, rigid eggs can pass through. You know what kind of babies come from those? Psycho's, rapists, politicians!" Lisa says as the group erupts with laughter. "No, seriously. You guys should begin talking this up now, because whether you like it or not, you two are on the clock."
"Thank you for your candid insight Lisa. Now can we stop talking about tubes and churning pears? It's not sitting well with the cheese and cold cuts." Brody says.
As the guests engage themselves in another topic of discussion, a solemn Anne sinks into her chair.
$
No more than a mile away, in a cramped one bedroom apartment in East Harlem, Todd is reviewing his script under a dim lamp. The apartment is cold and creaky as the Super hasn't turned on the building's radiated heat just yet; still a few weeks away. It's an atrocity to say the least since temperatures have sunken below freezing outside for at least the second week in a row. The space heaters selectively placed throughout the small apartment do very little to thaw this literal icebox.
The chilly domicile gets even chillier as Toni Baker, Todd's live-in girlfriend enters along side an icy blast of air. She looks worn, almost as if her once-beautiful appearance has been stolen from her by hard living.
"Hey babe." Todd greets. No response. Only the sounds of Toni shuffling exhaustedly to the kitchen, dropping her keys on the counter, then lumbering into the bedroom is heard. "I made dinner." Todd follows up.
"Already ate." Toni yells from the bedroom.
"At the office?"
"We stopped and got something afterwards."
"Did you want to try and catch a show later..."
The bedroom door slams shut. The deafening impact slaps Todd's skin and lingers as the sound echoes through the hollow home. The sting seems to be in concert with the sound; both slowly subsiding simultaneously. When pain free, Todd finds his comfort in his only solace, his work. He dives back into his script, and receives the warmth he's been seeking.
$
The small dinner party a few blocks and avenues down has morphed into a minor mixer. The liquor is flowing, the once soft music has been elevated, and the vibe has settled into a mature groove. As such, the guests have naturally segregated themselves into two intimate groups. Anne, Michelle, and Tom are conversing in the living room while Lisa and Brody remain engaged in a nearby hallway. Everyone speaks through slightly slurred speech as the buzz has become contagious.
Tom is just finishing up one of his raucous stories, and Anne and Michelle are laughing hysterically.
"...I tell ya, I've never seen anybody move so fast!" Tom says.
"Well you didn't have a choice did you Michelle?" Anne asks.
"I was running out of options! It was either me or him. He spilled his cup of gazpacho all over me as I knocked him away from the cab door. Ruined a perfectly good blouse by the way." Michelle responds.
"At least you got the cab!" Anne says.
"Yes! That sale only comes twice a year. I had to be there when the store opened!" Michelle states.
"I've always known you to be vicious when it comes to fashion, but come on!" Anne says.
"I don't know my own strength. I must've had 'the coffee with kick' that day." Michelle says with a wink. Anne stops laughing. Oh fuck. Here we go.
"Oh, okay, so now you pass the buck to me?" Anne asks.
"'The coffee with the kick' girl! That's you?" Tom asks.
"That's me. It's the commercial that won't die. I did that four years ago and they're still playing it! I haven't received one red cent of residuals yet." Anne says.
"Screw the residuals! I'd just be happy to be known as 'the coffee girl'." Michelle says.
"Yeah well the coffee lost its kick about three years ago. I need to find something else I can be known for." Anne states.
"Well now you can be known for playing the enchanting nurse on Shakespeare's biggest stage." Tom says.
"Enchanting? More like goofy. And it's not a big stage production at all. In fact we're probably going to perform on some of the smallest stages imaginable. I heard last time this group went out, they had to perform in a horse's stable." Anne responds.
"Eeeew." Michelle reacts.
"Who cares. What you're doing is still pretty heavy stuff. Some people shy away from that kind of work." Tom states.
"I'm sorry, but I'd shy away from manure dodging too." Michelle says.
"I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about Shakespeare. A lot of people are afraid to even touch the text, much less perform it. You should be commended." Tom says as he places an encouraging hand on Anne's shoulder.
"I don't know. I agree with you to some extent and don't get me wrong it is about the work and I love the work, it's just that...I don't know...I don't know if I'll do the role justice." Anne says.
For the first time, Michelle notices Anne's mood shift. She now realizes what Tom has been trying to accomplish during this conversation and decides to contribute as well. "Come on now. You're a wonderful actress." She says supportively.
That's why this is the first job I've booked in four years?" Anne asks combatively.
"Baby steps kid. Gotta take baby steps. This tour'll do you some good." Tom responds.
"That's just the thing. I mean, I'm excited that I have an acting gig, and I'm excited about being able to tour across the country, but...I don't know. Something's still missing." Anne says.
"If performing the work of the greatest playwright in history is not fulfilling you as an actress, what else is there?" Michelle asks.
"Exactly." Anne says as she slumps her shoulders. She grabs her wine glass off of the table and begins to get up. "I need another drink."
"There's another bottle at the bottom of the fridge. Bottle opener's in the drawer on the right." Tom advises.
Anne exits the living room. Tom and Michelle exhale their annoyance as they know their quiet mission crashed and burned, with only the flaky, charred ashes of failure remaining in the atmosphere. The mood has indeed changed on this side of the room.
Anne enters the kitchen, opens the refrigerator and locates the chilled bottle of wine, a 2010 Chateau Montelena Estate Cabernet Sauvignon. She takes the bottle out of the fridge, sets it on the counter, opens the right-side drawer, and searches for the wine bottle opener. The drawer's stainless steel contents are immaculately positioned, each fork, spoon, and knife has it's place; each spatula in it's own secure cove. However, the space for the wine bottle opener is vacant.
"Can't find the opener Tommy." Anne says.
"Oh! Damn me. Check in the long cabinet." Tom replies.
Anne crosses to the long cabinet and opens its doors. Nearby, Brody and Lisa are having quiet dialogue in an adjacent hallway. Anne is now an ear shot away from their confidential conversation. Her focus slowly shifts from the search to her silent eavesdrop.
"It's just that you are perfect. You have strength, courage, you will yourself out of situations. That's so respectable. That's what I need." Brody says.
"You have to be patient Brody. I wasn't always like this. Circumstances force people to be who they need to be. Just be patient. A couple more years, and you'll see the growth in her." Lisa responds.
"I've been waiting for growth for five years already!" Brody emphatically states.
"Maturity is a process Brody. If you don't fertilize the soil, you'll never grow fruit. You have to nurture her. For a woman, her twenties can be very cumbersome. She's trying to figure things out, find her place, and you being there will help a great deal." Lisa advises.
"I just don't know how much longer I'm supposed to wait for her to get through this. I need a woman, not a confused girl who doesn't know who she is and can't handle her own problems and insecurities." Brody says.
WHAM! Anne slams the cabinet doors shut, then hurls her wine glass towards Brody. The flying flask lands and smashes on the hallway wall, near Brody's head. The noise and action jars all of the guests out of their discussions. They watch in shock as Anne storms out of the apartment and Brody sappily stumbles after her.
$
Todd has just finished taking a shower and is drying off. The bathroom is filled with steam, fogging up the mirrors, and aquifying the small space of solace. He takes a minute to think about his current situation, and what's waiting for him just outside the bathroom door. He's exhausted mentally, and hates the fact that in this rare moment of domesticated peace, these invasive, corruptible thoughts have invaded his mind. He's worked hard all day, he has earned this moment, and he has every right to spend it uninterrupted. Not on this day. Not on any day.
As he wraps himself in a towel, Toni enters naked and emotionless. She walks straight for Todd, not stopping until their lips meet. She kisses him hard, with intent. Todd hears her longing through her strong exhales through her nostrils. It's almost like she's communicating all of her wants and needs through her nasal expulsions.
Before he can oblige, she snatches the towel from his waist and aggressively grips his swelling manhood. She squeezes and strokes him during their lip lock, and Todd begins to converse back to Toni through his increased breathing. When the tempo and pitch of Todd's pants scream I'm ready, Toni hops onto the sink, spreads her legs and teasingly invites Todd in.
The steam in the room shifts as Todd approaches with vigor, hoisting Toni's legs onto his shoulders and gripping her tightly by the waist as he attempts to align himself by shifting his hips. He slides his swollen head up and down her pleasure point, making her want him even more. The huge, tight mushroom feels like a smooth, spongy boulder on her small delicate pearl, but the contrast in size only adds to the pleasurable friction. Slowly, methodically, Todd starts to beat his fat head on her clit like a drum. She pulses to the beat, as her entire body feels the weight and strike of his thick stick; an intensely stimulating percussion.
Todd can feel that she's ready, as his head becomes saturated in her secretion. When he pushes in the tip, they both feel the searing warmth of each other, and for a brief second, remember what their love once felt like, tingly, spicy, and filled with bursting heat. But before Todd can fully dive into the electric pool, Toni pushes him away, and forces his head down to her cavity. As if trained, Todd obediently fills her with his tongue. He sucks, licks, and flicks her sour-tasting clit while rubbing and caressing the intimate grooves on her g-spot. His tickle has her on fire. Her entire insides are an inferno and her breathing has turned into a staccato symphony. Moans and gasps for air fill the room as Todd buries his entire face into her dirty muff, and she twitches and jerks her approval of his methods. Her approval, and the strong smell of sweaty, enclosed-all-day vagina mixed with the airy soap in the room turns Todd on. He's rock solid and could explode from one single sexy caress from her, but the only touch he feels from her is an aggressive grip to the back of his head, holding him in place, and pushing his face deeper into her tender pocket.
Todd is clearly skilled and committed to his craft as he continues until he almost drowns, until she is satisfied. When she erupts, she almost cracks a nearby mirror with her fist as all the aggression, stress, and frustration that's filled her day shoots from her body as if shot out of a cannon. The mirror makes a deep squeaking sound as her hand slides down its sloppy surface as if it itself was satisfied, moaning it's pleasure as it came.
Once the aftershocks subside, she hops down from the sink, and leaves without speaking a word. Todd watches in agony as her beautiful, naked, unpenetrated body strolls away from him with a drowsy, quenched sashay; his mouth and fingers dripping.
Left at the alter once again with a throbbing dick, and a mouth/handfull of her spunk, he's forced to relieve himself if he is to get any peace. He uses her slippery cum on his hand as lube in an effort to feign some sort of physical connection with his girlfriend. It's a cold, rote release, one that leaves him only remotely satisfied. After he cleans up his mess, he hops back in the shower and begins his cleansing ritual all over again, except this time he adds this latest episode to the growing list of unfavorable occurrences in his current situation with Toni; something that all the water in the Hudson River wouldn't be able to wash away.
Once Todd finishes, he dries off and slips into his pajamas. He inhales one last breath of the misty vapor, and exits the bathroom, which opens into the bedroom. The room is dim, with only one small lamp providing illumination. Toni, on her side of the bed with her legs tucked under the covers, is sitting up and reading a book underneath the light of the lamp. She looks totally content and at peace. Instead of disturbing that peace, and the peace of the apartment for that matter, Todd doesn't bring up what just transpired. He never does. He's just trying to get through another day at sea without making too many waves or capsizing.
"How's the novel coming?" Todd asks.
"It's coming." Toni flatly responds.
"Is that like the fourth book in the series?"
"Fifth."
"Fifth? Damn. They haven't solved the case yet?"
"It's a long series Todd."
"You're telling me. I saw somebody reading installment fifteen on my way to rehearsal this morning. Fifteen!"
Toni's irritation reaches it's zenith. She responds with, "So you can see, I've got a long way to go." Todd recognizes the slight tension in her voice, but decides to try to spark another round of initiation anyway.
"This tour I'm working on should be pretty interesting. This kind of thing can get taxing you know; shows day in and day out, moving on to the next location, life on the road. Everyone's nice and professional, but we're all just so different. They're really trying to break some traditions with this rendition. It's like they threw a group of talented misfits together and said, 'Here. Perfect what's already been perfected!' I think we'll be okay though. We have the caliber of people to do well, but it'll definitely be something unique. Hopefully I won't push too hard; try to make something out of nothing. I've just got to simply let it come to me. It's got to come out of me and not from me. I have to own it. I have to live it."
Todd turns to see that Toni hasn't been listening as she's completely engaged in her book. "Toni!" He says as he tries to get her attention. Toni slams her book on the bed.
"Can you please?" She says.
"Can I please what?" Todd asks.
"Shut up! Can't you see I'm trying to read?"
Todd digests her venom, and Toni resumes her reading. The skeleton of this scenario has played out on many a night in this ill settlement, each time being a little different than the other, but the result always remains the same. Tonight however, Todd is at his limit, and is determined to pick at this scab until the would is completely exposed.
"Is something wrong?" He asks. Toni sighs loudly, and continues to focus on her book. "I mean, because if I did something wrong, I have no clue what it is." Todd continues.
That did something. Todd knew it would. Toni puts her book down and says, "You haven't done anything, and nothing's wrong, okay?" She then raises her book back into place; just over her eyes so he is out of view. Unfortunately for her, Todd isn't nearly done, in fact, he hasn't even started.
He calls her name, "Toni." She ignores him. "Toni!" He yells. Toni slams the book onto the bed.
"WHAT?" She yells back.
"You've been giving me the stiff lip all month. What's the problem?" He asks.
"I told you already..."
"Fuck what you told me! We both agreed that we were going to work on this relationship, now it's like you're bailing out."
"I'm still here aren't I?"
She begins to raise the book over her eyes again, but before she can complete her movement, Todd snatches the book from her and rifles it across the room. "Talk to me dammit!" He says.
"What do you want me to say?"
"I want you to tell me what's up your ass!"
"I keep telling you there's nothing..."
"Bullshit! What is it? Are you not happy anymore?"
"No."
Do you want to break it off?
"No."
Todd pauses, and sighs. He sees the road he's about to venture onto, and he dreads it. However, he knows he's going to have to tread here if he's going to get to his desired destination, the truth. He looks away from her and asks, "Is there somebody else?" Toni is silent. Todd hangs his head, and says disappointedly, "Oh come on Toni. Don't tell me...again?"
"It's not someone else. I'm pregnant." She responds.
"But...we...we haven't been..."
"Doctor says I'm about two months along."
"Oh...god Toni. God damn."
Todd absorbs the full force of this shockwave in his gut. He wasn't expecting this. He knew the source of their current strains was not going to be something that was easily digestible once learned, but this never crossed his mind. He never conceived a scenario where forgiveness for a prior transgression would come back to bite him like this. Who would construct such a cruel twist of fate? It's virtually impossible that this is happening to him, yet, here he is, and there they are. When he found out about the first misstep, he could've walked away, he could've ended it then. He should have ended it then, but no, he decided he loved her, so he forgave her. Now, his long-time live-in girlfriend is pregnant by another man, the same man he forgave her for sleeping with a few months ago, and he's blaming himself for being in this situation.
Todd slowly exits the bedroom speechless. As he walks out, Toni whispers to herself, "I'm sorry."
$
Anne, arms folded, crying hysterically, walks briskly toward her apartment. Brody jogs frantically behind, trying to catch up to her. Both are having a tremendous time with their equilibriums. The Upper East Side streets are quiet. In the city that never sleeps, this area seems to have a rare immunity to the moniker. The only sounds heard on the long avenues are what's emitting from this sloppy struggle.
"Anne...Anne come on...Will you wait a sec!" Brody yells.
Just get there. Just get there.
They cross from East to West without Anne relenting one bit. She continues to power walk away from Brody as best as she can, her smoky breath snaking around her head like a ghost in the night air, and Brody continues to struggle with keeping pace. Eventually, he lets her walk ahead, but keeps her in view as he trails behind. This trot continues for several streets and avenues.
When Anne finally reaches her building's doors she quickly unlocks it, enters, and lets the door close behind her. A few seconds later, Brody follows suit.
Just get there. Just get there.
Anne runs the bedroom as she continues her everlasting sob. Brody follows behind and says, "Dammit Anne, you're over-reacting." Once inside the bedroom, he sees Anne slamming her clothes, hangers and all, into a large suitcase. Brody moves to embrace her from behind. "I wish you would let me explain." He pleads.
Anne aggressively pushes him away. "No! No! No explanation necessary. I understood every word!" She exclaims.
"What you heard was out of context..."
"You've done enough. Don't you dare insult my intelligence too!"
"Honey, look. I probably had a little too much to drink..."
"Truth serum Brody. Truth Serum!" Anne screams at the top of her lungs.
"Listen baby..."
"No you listen! I'm sorry I can't be your perfect little woman who handles her perfect little problems perfectly. I'd always thought you accepted me for who I was, flaws and all, but I guess I was wrong." She slams the suitcase shut. "I'll call you when I grow up." She says as she snatches her suitcase from the bed and begins to exit.
Brody stands firmly in the doorway and asks, "Whoa, whoa whoa. Where are you going?"
"Get the fuck outta the way..."
"We need to talk about..."
"Fuck talking. Now move!" She yells.
"I'm not going anywhere until you calm down and hear me out."
"I've already heard what you have to say. NOW I WANT YOU TO MOVE!" Anne says as she begins to ram herself into him. "MOVE, MOVE, MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!" On her final thrust, she vomits all over him.
"Ahh! Jesus!" Brody yells.
Embarrassed, yet determined, Anne wipes her mouth and moves past him. She has to get out. The walls are caving in on her and the pasty acidity in her mouth leads her to believe that her digestive system isn't finished with her just yet. To shake the risk of further shame and making more of a literal and figurative mess, she needs an escape. She quickly hustles through the living room and exits.
Just get there. Keep going, and get there.
Just as soon as she's outside, Anne trips and falls on a sheet of ice, badly scraping her knee and popping her suitcase open, spilling her clothes everywhere. Blood begins to pool then flow down her knee as she scrambles to gather her clothes and shove them back into her suitcase. She clicks the suitcase closed, stands up, then begins to limp away from her apartment.
Gotta get there. I've gotta get there.
Even though it's eternally quiet on the streets, she feels as if all eyes are on her. Everyone knows about the fight her and Brody had, everyone heard their conversation, everyone saw here loose her lunch, everyone knows Brody thinks she's inadequate. Her enflamed self-consciousness brings added heat to every pore on her body, and has made her legs turn into gelatin. She can feel herself slipping away, slipping into the abyss.
Gotta keep going. Got to get away.
Her intensified weeping slowly begins to falter with each step.
Got to be happy.
Eventually she collapses on the sidewalk.