by Carr, Suzie
My tummy rolled.
I cradled a handful of bubbles and blew on them. Then, I spread some bubbles over my arms, my chest, my breasts, circling my nipples and watching as they hardened. My breathing quickened, my vagina buzzed. The air lightened. The bubbles smelled stronger. My skin felt softer.
Eva Handel, what have you done to me?
An hour later, I emerged, puckered and wrinkled. I sat in front of my computer, scared for what my eyes would see. I opened my email and braved all.
There before me, shiny, new, and bold was my beautiful present, an unopened email from my unknowing muse, the beautiful Eva Handel.
From: Eva Handel [email protected]
To: CarefreeJanie [email protected]
Sent: Wednesday, July 25, 2012 8:46 PM
Subject: Re: a little something I promised you, if you have the time…
If I have the time? Are you kidding me? Janie, it is okay if I call you Janie? Janie, my heart is swelling right now. I wouldn't even know what word to type to express what your story just did to me. I am flushed. I am in love with these characters. I want to hang out with these characters. I want them as friends. The kiss moved me like you can’t imagine… oh Janie, the kiss. You are brilliant. You are talented. You need to tell me where this was published so I can run out, buy a copy and have you autograph it. Where is this available?
Hop on Twitter. PLEASE!
Your newest fan,
Eva
Before the clock could click through a second, I landed on Twitter.
“You are so sweet,” I wrote.
“Oh my gosh, honey, I’m still reeling from reading.”
She called me honey. The word chimed like a beautiful song. “You’re too kind.”
“How do you do it? How do you place words together and make them come alive like you do?”
“See, now you’re making me blush.”
“I wish I could see you blush,” she wrote.
“You realize you’ll always have to flatter me this way now, right? There’s no cheapening out on adjectives after all this gushing.”
“I want more,” she wrote.
I soared high. I floated way past the confines of my condo, somewhere up where eagles hung out. “You’re super inflating my ego.”
“It’s well deserved. You’re very talented.”
We tweeted for almost an hour nonstop. She told me all about her favorite pastime—acting—and how she dreamed of a career in front of the camera. She told me about all of the plays she acted in and how she enjoyed performing in dinner theatres in front of full audiences that clapped and cheered. She asked me questions about my writing process and I made things up as I typed, citing wine as a great muse for stories that required I go deep. She told me about her cat, Jarvis, a Siamese who liked to eat lettuce and hang out on the top of her couch while she read each night. When she spoke about this, I imagined sitting next to her curled up, Jarvis tapping our heads with his paw.
She had just explained her new job to me, and how excited she was to be a part of something fun and stimulating, when she suddenly tossed out a tweet that rocked my world.
“I wish I could kiss you,” she wrote.
“I would love that.”
“Mwah.”
My tummy flipped. “I liked that.”
We continued flirting and chatting about our writing and acting dreams when she said, “So far everything I’ve acted in has been kind of silly. I need something powerful, emotional to get me in the door.” She continued. “I need something more compelling.”
“Who’s been writing your stuff?”
“Me. It’s not my strength. Hey—want to be my writer?”
“Ha. Sure. I’ll just jot a script down on the backside of a napkin next time I’m at Starbucks and send it to you.”
“I’m not kidding. I need something deeper and more meaningful to work with. I’m thinking Sundance Film Festival worthy.”
“Maybe I’ll squeeze some writing in between my other projects and surprise you one of these days.”
“If you write one like your story, I definitely have a future.”
“That is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.” I broke into a big smile. “You made my day.” Then for the sheer thrill, I added, “Babe.”
“You just made my day by calling me babe. Mwah.”
“I'm glad.” I stared at her word mwah. Its meaning blew like a gentle breeze across my face. “By the way, maybe it's just because I'm a word girl, but I love the word mwah.”
“Do you just like the word mwah? Not necessarily my mwah?”
My head swirled. I loved flirting with this woman. I surprised myself with how I so easily reached up and plucked wit from the air. de mWords alone mean nothing to me without passion behind them.”
“Can you elaborate? You know, I’m a bit low on understanding deep meanings (wink).”
Her toying tickled me. “I highly doubt that you’re low in understanding anything with deep meaning.” I continued typing. “Okay, here goes: your mwah carries passion; therefore, I like YOUR mwah.”
“Ah, my heart is flipping. Hey, can I get a mwah, too?”
My heart galloped. “Of course. I can't just take and not give. I'm so not the selfish type. So, here you go: mwah and XOXO.”
“Are you flirting with me?”
“Who? Me?” I asked, giggling like a fool in my condo. The rush intoxicated me. “Do you like it?”
“It’s making it hard to resist you.”
“Who said you have to resist me?” Even my fingers pulsed.
“I wish I could meet you in person,” she wrote.
I couldn’t inhale deeply enough to catch a breath. I needed to exercise some restraint before CarefreeJanie lost complete control and landed me in a heap of trouble. “I must rest this beating heart of mine.”
“What is your beating heart saying? Is it telling you to come close to me?”
My underwear had never been so wonderfully wet before. “Hmm, some thoughts are just better left to remain a mystery.”
“I like mysteries. You know what else I like?”
“Don’t leave me hanging.”
“I really like talking with you,” she wrote.
I moaned and fell over for a brief second to take it all in. “I’m not going anywhere. I enjoy this, too.”
She sent me a wink.
“You know what I really like?” I asked.
“Writing a script for me?”
“Ha. One track mind,” I wrote. “I like your mwahs a lot.”
“Come close, so I can give you a big mwah.”
I closed my eyes and sealed in the warmth of her. “Mwah and a big hug.”
We signed off and I remained glued to my stool, squeezing my legs together to enjoy the trembling and mounting pleasure.
I would never be the same again.
Chapter Seven
I’ve never been a health nut. In fact, describing me as a couch potato wouldn’t be too far of a stretch. I much preferred sitting in a sauna and pretending that body fat melted off on its own than I did mounting a treadmill or pedaling on a stationary bike to nowhere.
Of course, all that would change now I suspected after reading through Eva’s online profiles on various social networking sites. Pictures of her covered in mud, climbing up rope mountains, skiing down steep hills, and pounding volleyballs at other people drove me to this conclusion. Eva was athletic. She ran road races, swam open water, cycled up and down hills, crawled through mud, and tackled every sport known to man, even martial arts. What did this woman not do?
I wanted to be fit and healthy suddenly.
I had joined many gyms in my lifetime only to look like a fool walking in the places. Pretty girls with toned muscles pranced around acting like if they weren’t working out, they’d all of a sudden gain ten pounds of fat and look, heaven forbid, like me. My romp into a gym always started and ended in much the same fashion. I’d sit in my car for a good half hour pla
nning my circuit. Once all people cleared from the parking lot, I’d dash out and hope no one saw me walking in because surely they’d laugh at me for even trying to compete on the level of these beautiful girls and chiseled men. I could just imagine the hushed voices whispering in their heads saying things like ‘this girl better not get in my way.’
I carried an extra twenty pounds and it all gathered around my middle. A convention of fat cells met and partied on, clinging to the hopes I’d keep sitting around watching television and eating yummy treats that dripped of sugar and salt. I didn’t want to be a size two, but I also didn’t want to be one of those who pretended to be in love with my above average size.
Whenever I had entered a gym and stared at all that complicated equipment with its shiny metal and dangerous curvy fixtures, my self-conscious whistle always played a cacophony of noise where reason and logic should’ve chimed in. Upon entering, I typically walked directly to the locker rooms where I’d hide behind the curtain and persuade myself that not everyone stared at me or waited to have a good laugh at my expense. Bullying brought on strange, compulsive behavior like this. It forced people like me to sit in stalls behind curtains and hide until all people vacated the locker room and I could enter without humiliation. Fear of humiliation shrouded me constantly. If someone stared too long at me, cocked her head too much to the side, rolled her eyes too quickly in my direction, I braced for an attack.
The longer I mulled over Eva I ms athletic pictures, the more I decided against going the gym route. I’d start with DVDs and work my way up to gym member. Or maybe just forget this whole stupid idea of working out and Eva Handel and go back to safety mode where my fat tummy and dull hair didn’t matter.
Yes, we flirted a bit beyond friendly the other day. This flirting reshaped my world. I would bet my condo that Eva, having already experienced many flirty romps through Twitterland, thought little of it. She’d get over me just as quickly as she discovered me.
I couldn’t bear to have her be disappointed in the real me. How long could I keep up the charade of being an athlete myself, running marathons like they were romps through the city park? I couldn’t compete with this gorgeous lady, and I certainly didn’t want to be the fool in the end assuming she’d actually enjoy life with someone like me, the real plain Jane who worried about things like whether words would stay trapped in the back of my throat when I opened my mouth to speak.
I wouldn’t know what to do with her.
The flirts probably didn’t even mean anything to her. She was just a nice person who liked to have fun. She could walk up to anyone in real life and flirt. She didn’t need a computer screen and keyboard as her crutch. She’d get tired of this quickly, no doubt, and beg to meet me.
I couldn’t imagine the scene. I couldn’t very well get drunk on sangria every time I wanted to date her. I’d surely climb to a size twenty in no time.
I faced a hopeless fork in the road.
So, I made another one of those promises with myself. If I opened my Twitter and had a message from her, I’d take that as a sign to have a bit more fun with this before putting it to rest. If there was no message from her, I’d cut myself off and walk away from the addiction.
I opened Twitter, and she beckoned me right away with her mysterious force, luring me back into this land of flirts.
We bantered back and forth a little and then as if fate sat above my keyboard and started messing with me, she asked me if I worked out. Of course I was like, “Oh my gosh, yes, of course. All the time.” And I even threw in another ‘babe.’
“Fitness is so sexy. I admire when people honor their bodies and treat them like the temples they are.”
“Oh, yeah, absolutely.” I sucked in my gut, willing it to go away.
“Do you run?”
Oh, yes, sure. From situations like this typically. “I do a little light jogging from time to time. It clears the mind.” Shut up, Jane!
“I’m coming to Maryland next week. Do you want to join me for a run?”
My heart drummed way too much. “Next week you say?”
“I checked the weather and it’s going to be blue skies and sun every day.”
I treaded in water much too deep. “Are you kidding?” I tossed in a frown. “Seriously next week?” I could lie and tell her I was heading out of town for a friend’s wedding. She’d want to see pictures for sure. I could say I faced a strict deadline for a work project that would require me to focus the entire time on just that. Then, she’d ask me where I worked and my CarefreeJanie cover would be blown and all the fun would vanish as quickly as it arrived. Better she continued to believe I earned my living writing short stories about passionate kisses.
“You’re not going to be there are you?”
I waited for my garden of insights to grow something I could use here, but nothing, just rich topsoil with no growth this time around. When in doubt, vague always worked best. “No. I’ve got a prior commitment.”
“Next time, I guess.”
Thank God. “What a shame. Maybe I’ll surprise you and get up to see you first.” I just had to keep the ball rolling.
“Come and I’ll take care of you.”
I could just see her, bending over me with a blanket, tucking me into her couch, kissing my forehead with her petal soft lips and brushing a few strands of my hair away. “I bet you will.”
“Mmm. I really like you, CarefreeJanie.”
My core filled with sweet joy. “Likewise (wink).”
“I hope you have a great rest of the day. I’m off to get my motorcycle serviced.”
I had seen her straddled over her shiny blue motorcycle in many of her pictures on Facebook. Of course, I couldn’t tell her that. “Oh, you ride a motorcycle?”
“Yup. So much easier than dealing with a car in the city. I’ll give you a ride one of these days.”
“I’d like that.”
“Me too.”
# #
I ran over to Larry’s condo and stole his precious Insanity DVDs. He had praised this Shaun T guy for getting him into respectable shape the past summer. For three months, Larry dedicated himself to spending every morning with Shaun T and the gang, sweating and pumping his muscles full of life and vigor. He glowed. He walked taller. He even managed to turn more heads.
I needed that.
Within fifteen minutes, water bottle filled, sports bra in place, couch moved back, and Larry’s yoga mat front and center, I began jogging in place as Shaun T, with his gleaming bald head and rock hard body, instructed me to breathe and dig deeper and follow his lead. I watched the timer at the bottom of the screen. It hadn’t even moved a minute and my heart already raced, my face burned, the sweat already sprang up on my forehead. I felt great. I broke into jumping jacks and mountain climbers and ski abs like I’d been doing this workout my whole life. I inhaled, exhaled, and tore through the workout, proud of myself for pushing myself into this frenzy where my heart beat faster than it had in years. Then Shaun T instructed me to get a swig of water so we could go into stretching now that our muscles were nice and warmed up.
Apparently, I had just endured the warm-up.
Before I knew it, I jumped into full workout mode. About half way into the first set of circuit exercises, I quit. I couldn’t take one more squat. I sprawled out on Larry’s yoga mat with my arms and legs spread wide, panting, willing breath to once again enter my body and relieve me of the nagging pull on my lungs.
Half an hour later, I climbed to my feet and sat in front of my laptop again. I peeked at the pictures of Eva I had downloaded from her Facebook, the ones of her covered in mud, clothes clinging to her muscles. Yup, I turned from innocent twenty-nine-year-old virgin to creepy stalker overnight.
She was so healthy and vibrant.
I wanted to be just like her.
I wanted for once not to be embarrassed about the way I looked. I wanted to be able to snap a photo of myself and be proud of the image I captured.
I could start slowly.
I didn’t need to kill myself with Shaun T and the gang.
I would start out with a walk the next day.
Yep, I could take charge of this exercise life. That woman powered me with something far greater than any junk food could. She made me want to be a better version of myself.
# #
In the days that led up to Eva’s visit to main headquarters, I talked to Larry about Eva coming to town. He told me I was absolutely nuts not to walk up to her this time, smile, and congratulate her on wearing the same shoes.
When the meeting day arrived, she tweeted me. “What a shame you aren’t around today for that run. I’ve never seen the sky so blue.”
“You sure know how to tempt a girl, don’t you?”
“We could take a ride on my motorcycle after and get lost somewhere on the open road.”
I pictured the two of us together on her bike. My body cradled up against hers, smiling into the wind, hair blowing around us. I swam around in this scene, lingering in its sweet wake when I boldly typed back, “A girl on a bike. Can you be any hotter?”
“Come for a ride with me today.”
“Oh, how I wish.” I needed to stop this before she peeled back the corners of CarefreeJanie. “Hey babe, I’ve got to run. Safe travels.”
# #
I dressed extra nicely that day, even though I’d avoid her at all cost. I even blew dried my hair smooth and wore a light coating of foundation to smooth out my freckles. I drove in and when my building rose on the horizon, my throat clenched. In just a few short minutes I would see my beautiful Twitter crush.