When they reached the Observatory, Teddy took lots of pictures on his phone. The normal blanket of mucky smog and haze had lifted, so the vistas were impressive. He took some of Jane, who protested she wasn’t camera ready, and then insisted on some selfies of the two of them. Jane demanded that she be given photo approval, so he handed her his phone. As she scrutinized the pictures, she was surprised by how relaxed and happy she looked, even with her sheen of sweat and flushed cheeks. And Teddy just exuded delight. She didn’t delete any of them.
For lunch, they picked up food from a taco stand and took it back to Jane’s apartment. They sat on her couch, eating off the coffee table, sipping cold Modelo Negra right out of the bottle. Afterward, Teddy asked if they should shower, as they’d both worked up a sweat.
Getting naked in the full light of day made Jane feel so vulnerable. As they showered together, she noticed how comfortableTeddy was in his own skin. It was so intimate, so sensual. They toweled each other off, and then moved to her bedroom.
Jane drew all the blinds and curtains to diffuse the light. Like he seemed to do with everything, Teddy took his time. She felt so tingly and relaxed afterward that she fell sound asleep in the crook of his arm.
And then, to Jane’s shock, they stayed in bed for the remainder of the afternoon. They ordered dinner in, ate at her tiny kitchen table, and then went back to bed. They watched dumb reality television while laughing and caressing each other. He asked if she was cool with him spending the night, and without hesitation, she said, “Sure.”
Given the adjustment to sharing a bed with someone new, she’d slept surprisingly well. The next morning, she got out of bed carefully, so as not to rouse him. Teddy looked so sweet and innocent when he was sleeping.
He walked into the kitchen while the coffee was brewing. “Do you want to go out for breakfast?”
“No, Teddy, sorry, I have so much reading to get through today.”
She had a stack of scripts on her computer that she needed to plow through, since it was her job to foster the illusion that her illiterate boss was literate.
“What happens if you don’t do it?”
“Well, maybe I lose my job.”
“No you don’t. For one tiny infraction? Not buying it.”
“But I want to do it. I mean, it’s my work. I want to do a good job.”
“Let’s go get some pastry and talk about it some more.”
So they went out and got a box of buttery pastries, eating most of them during the short car ride back. They were light andairy and shattered when you bit into them, sending floury shards all over Teddy’s car. Jane said they could vacuum them up when they got back to her place, but he didn’t want to bother. Instead, they went right back to bed. Either he was irresistible, or she really didn’t want to read all those stupid scripts.
They spent all day Sunday together. He wanted to cook, so they bought groceries. He made surprisingly good hamburgers; she made a green salad with a tart vinaigrette.
When they finally parted ways, Jane realized she hadn’t even thought about those scripts. She was so sleepy, in the best possible way, and decided, for once, to blow it off. Her boss was incompetent and she could cover easily.
As their relationship progressed, Jane would allot time slots for Teddy, usually thirty-six hours, with clearly stipulated start and end times, so that their spontaneous, hedonistic idylls wouldn’t result in the rest of her life unraveling. Too much fun was treacherous. Teddy was amused by her punctiliousness, and something about the challenge of the time frame appealed to him.
Especially after an aggravating day like today, Teddy would be a welcome solace. He would erase any residual thoughts about that harridan Kim. Maybe Teddy was cooking dinner. They could eat and then go right to bed to have sex and then watch mindless television—restorative indolence that she needed right now.
But quiet was not to be had. As soon as she opened the door, she heard Teddy and Keith jamming. They played guitar and loved the sound of their own singing. The joy in their voices, in the right circumstances, could be contagious. She admired the unselfconscious pleasure they took in this, even envied it. It could all really be fun sometimes, but not this evening.
Teddy gave her a bear hug and a kiss.
“You’re back early, Jay.”
“Yeah... the job ended early.”
“Hard day, huh?”
Was it written on her face? God, she should get Botox and erase any evidence of emotion. Like Kim. Dear god. Maybe a lobotomy would be the way to go—smooth out the brain and the brow in one fell swoop. Lobotomies were shockingly low-tech. She had seen a documentary about them; they were the rage in the forties.
Jane went to the kitchen, poured a glass of wine, and sat at the counter. This whole thing with Kim was making her think about her mother—and she had a sudden urge to call her, something she did very infrequently. In any case, Jane felt obligated to check in on her brother, so, feeling warmed and relaxed by a few sips of the earthy red wine, she decided to FaceTime.
Her mother picked up after the fourth ring.
“Jane,” she said, “is everything okay? Why are you FaceTiming?”
Her mother stood in the laundry nook, bathed in cold LED light. She was still in her work clothes—a blue silk blouse calibrated to her eye color, and a tweed skirt. Business-y. Her severe bob resembled a battle helmet, with bangs and sharp tips of hair framing her face like daggers. Yet her careworn expression belied the dragon lady comparison, as did the fact that she was tiny—barely over five feet tall and notably skinny. If not the coveted size zero, at least close to that nullity.
“Everything’s great, Mom, I’m just calling to check in.”
