7
Ryder -Wisdom from the Elders
Iwait around Denise’s place for about an hour before deciding I should go. After cleaning the mess from our leftover dinner and making sure the living room and kitchen are in order, I look for a way to leave her a note. I find a pen and a notepad in a drawer and jot something down.
Denise,
I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable. That wasn’t what I wanted. And I want you to know that you don’t need to say anything to me about it. I just wanted to tell you how I felt. More than anything though, I want us to still be friends.
And I still expect you to call me to help you next time you’re sick. Nanny Ryder is a friend-type service, nothing more.
-Ryder
With that done, I find my keys and phone and get out of her place, making sure to at least lock the door behind me. It doesn’t dawn on me until I’m outside that my shirt is still in her washing machine. I walk out to my car, shirtless in the rain, as if this day couldn’t get any worse.
No, that’s not right. Most of this day was amazing. I had a great time with Denise, until I opened my stupid mouth and told her about my feelings, like an asshole. She just broke up with her boyfriend and spent hours throwing up. Only I would think that was a great time to confess that I like her. Stupid.
Before I realize it, I’m leaving the liquor store, another bottle of vodka in my hand. It’s a good thing they know me there, or they wouldn’t have let me in without a shirt. I guess I know what I’m doing tonight. Again. One of these days I may need to investigate this drinking issue. But today is not that day.
Once home, I go inside and repeat last night’s routine of looking for something to watch on TV and settling on sitting in the dark with my vodka. I probably could have gone to the studio instead. I’m sure the rest of the guys are still there, but right now I need to just drink myself into oblivion and forget about how I scared Denise away.
I drink deeply from my bottle, ignoring the burn of the alcohol as it travels down my throat, and I look around my apartment. After seeing Denise’s place, I realize how not lived in my apartment feels. The only problem with that is that I’ve lived here for years. I have no art, nothing that makes this space feel like it’s mine. There’s nothing other than leather furniture and a TV set up in the living room. My bedroom isn’t much different, but instead of couches it has a bed and dressers.
Maybe that’s something that I can do, get my apartment to feel more like it’s my own. If Denise ever talks to me again, I’m going to ask her where she got those embroidered pictures. I think it might be cool to have some of those. And tomorrow I can go check out some local art galleries and see if anything catches my eye. I could probably just hire a decorator but I’m not interested in getting my place into any magazines, just into making it into a more comfortable place to live.
I’m sitting there thinking about what I can do to make this place a little more like a home when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I nearly drop my bottle trying to get to it, just hoping it’s Denise.
Nope, just Connor.
Connor- Hey, are you busy two weeks from now, on Saturday?
I never have actual plans. What is he even bothering to ask for?
Me- Not busy, what do you need?
Connor- I need you to spend the day with Alex and Becca, keep her away from the house until 5 or so.
Me- Yeah, sure. What do you want me to do with them?
Connor- Becca is going to get in touch. You can figure it out with her. I have enough to plan.
Me- Oh? Gonna tell me what’s up?
Connor- I’m proposing to Alex that night. You better not fucking tell her.
Me- Shit, congratulations man. Your secret is safe with me. I’ll get it figured out.
Connor- Good. See you tomorrow?
Me- I’ll be there
He doesn’t respond again after that.
I put the lid back on my bottle and bring it to the freezer. If I promised to be there tomorrow, I should slow my drinking for tonight. Instead, I grab my laptop and order some new stuff for the apartment.
After browsing a bunch of different furniture and decor sites I realize I am completely out of my element and give up. I ordered a couple of art prints I liked and a dining set, though. That has to count for something, considering I didn’t even have a table before. I’m making progress. I grab the vodka from the freezer and take a deep drink in celebration.
I order myself some dinner and settle in to actually watch something. I’m not having much luck concentrating on the screen though. My mind is preoccupied with thoughts of Denise. It felt so right laying there with her while she slept. Even the teasing was fun. I’m kicking myself for messing it all up by telling her how I feel. I was planning on waiting. Why didn’t I just stick to my original plan?
