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Squiggle Page 13

by Chandler Ardnas


  I assumed he put his hand over his mouth because only muffled cries erupted instead of the usual wall beating profanity. I think I found a cure for a hangover, and it was much better than those horrible online remedies. I wonder if I should put it on one of those questions and answers websites. I’m sure it is only Julius’s hot body able to elicit the cure, so I better not.

  “Good morning,” I said, and snuggled up to his side.

  “It is now,” he teased, and kissed my head.

  I tightened my hold and closed my eyes as I said, “Amos got the job.”

  “I thought it would be good news?” He said, recognizing the depression in my voice. We were really beginning to read each other, and I felt like we existed in our own little bubble and it was not shaped like a square.

  “It is, but now I’m losing Claire. I’ve never lived with anyone else.”

  It was silent, not awkwardly silent, just pensively silent. Julius finally cleared his throat and placed his lips to my head before saying what he wanted to say. “What about me, will I do?” he asked.

  My eyes shot open, making the room spin a bit and I slowly raised my head to look at him. “You want to be my roommate?” I asked stupidly.

  “Are you listening right now?” he asked with a smile, and I nodded with my own smile. I was going to listen if it killed me, but can you actually die from listening? I think if I listened to him say he wanted to end it with me I would die, but not from listening, from his words breaking my heart, so I don’t think you can die from listening. Oh, crap.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  My heart went right to my throat. He wasn’t waiting for me to respond to something I missed. He waited for me to stop rambling in my own head before he spoke. My inability to listen didn’t anger him; he was patient for my attention. His action screamed nothing but love. “You waited,” I said with tears.

  “I’m beginning to recognize the difference between your spaced-out look from your paying attention look,” he said proudly.

  “I love you,” I admitted, and smiled up at him.

  “Do you love me enough to marry me?” he asked, since I had my paying attention look.

  It was way too soon, but I didn’t want to deny him anything. I was certain I would do everything in my power to make my marriage work, but there were some fundamental issues we needed to work on first.

  “Do you believe I will never cheat on you?” I asked.

  He hesitated, and it saddened me. “I’m beginning to believe,” he said softly.

  I kissed from his jaw line to his mouth and then added more pressure. When I backed away he was looking into my eyes. “I’ll marry you when you totally believe,” I told him, “But you can be my roommate right now.”

  “Roommate… do you mean I’ll have my own room?” he asked.

  “Yeah, but unfortunately not your own bed,” I said, as if driving a hard bargain.

  He decided to make his own stipulations and asked, “Will you keep your clothes awaiting punishment off our bed?”

  “I guess our bed will have to be in your room,” I told him honestly, because naughty clothes cannot be contained.

  And just that easily we planned to join our lives with the end goal being marriage. We didn’t have any deep philosophical discussion or set up any ground rules. He was moving into my place and I was going to make him understand I would never cheat. I knew deep down something was off. We were moving too quickly for a normal couple, but I wasn’t normal, so I was okay with being a little off.

  We drove home with tender tummies and pounding headaches due to all the liquor, and Claire was sick for a different reason. Only Amos felt well enough to babble the entire way. I put my head on Julius’ lap and concentrated on a mental image of Amick’s mouth being sewn shut. It turned into a pretty nice ride home.

  We got our bags from his jeep and I headed toward the house, but Julius headed toward his car. “Where are you going?” I asked, and not nicely either.

  He just asked to live with me and he was running off already. He gave me a toss of his head and I walked to his car to get his answer. I was ready for a verbal altercation. I was going to tell him to get his gorgeous backside in the house and hopefully right into my bed. He put his bag on the seat and then pulled me into his arms. I stood stiffly because I was not going to be swayed by his swoon worthy actions.

  He looked at me with excitement and said, “Tobi, I’m working on something for our future. I’m really excited about this, but I need to do some preliminary work first. Will you give me a few days to look at some numbers and then tell you all about it?”

  Well dang, he wasn’t running away, he was figuring out our future. I must admit I’m a bit nervous about the numbers he was looking at. Was it my bank account, because that was just plain sad? Was it my chest size, because that was just plain miserable? Hopefully it was the number of times we would consummate our love, because that number is likely to be crazy, scary high.

  I kissed him goodbye and told him to have fun figuring. I figured it was the least I could do, since any other figuring would be beyond my ability to figure. I was less enthusiastic when Wednesday came, and I still hadn’t heard from him. I refused to text him, since most women don’t text their man when he agrees to move in but never shows up. To make it worse, Mr. Stovall was gone too, so I couldn’t question him about anything. The reward party was going to be on Saturday and if I hadn’t heard from Julius by then, I was going to insist Mr. William Dear Carmichael produce his son immediately.

  The entire department was excited about the upcoming Luau. Everyone was purchasing grass skirts or coconut bras, but I decided to go a bit more modern. I found a neon orange tank top and some wild board shorts. I would be noticed from blocks away, but I felt clothes should be noticed, it is a partnership, we purchase them, and they make us look good, so it is only fair.

  Sara approached my cube and I grabbed her arm and pulled her inside. “What is going on with Julius and Travis?”

  “I don’t know,” she said sadly. “They are working on something big, but I don’t know what it is.” I looked down at her baby doll face and checked for any sign of deceit. She interrupted my deciphering by adding, “His family comes Sunday, are you ready?”

  Oh yeah, she had to be a southern belle by Sunday. “Sure, I have it all covered. I’ll show up at their apartment Sunday morning to get everything ready.” I still didn’t have a clue how to transform her into something less northern, but I wasn’t worried, squiggles do their best work under pressure.

  She made her way back to her cube and I noticed Kurt watching me. “What’s your problem, Dahmer?” I said with disgust, just a bit worried because Mr. Stovall wasn’t here to keep me from impaling my useless letter opener into one of his main arteries.

  “What does that mean?” he asked. Surely, he knew about the serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer. I bet he studied his creepiness in-depth. I wasn’t falling for his feigned ignorance, so I stuck my tongue out at him and sat down in front of my computer. He laughed but left me alone.

  I ran through my Netflix account and tried to find any movies about southern women. I found two that looked promising, so I wrote them down and hoped a night of watching movies would keep me from worrying about Julius.

  I kept meticulous notes, although I didn’t understand why southern women do the things they do. For some reason they loved big hair, and Capri length tights. I had a list of things to buy for the big makeover and wondered where I would find Mary Kay cosmetics.

  It was almost ten o’clock on Friday night when I finally heard from Julius. I was furious, but his excited voice calmed me down a bit. “This has been such a great week,” he said, without commenting on my less than enthusiastic hello. “I’m telling you, Tobi, it is like our life together is meant to be.”

  Of course, it is, he is my destiny, my soul-mate, my one and only love. But I’m not forgetting he went a week without getting in touch with me, because I was really missing his touch.
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  “I’m sorry, who’s calling?” I asked snidely.

  He was quiet for a moment and then gave a weak attempt at a chuckle. “I know I’ve been a bit absent….”

  “A bit? Oh, a lot more than a bit. More like a whole heck of a lot.” I was growing angrier as we spoke. At first, I was afraid he changed his mind, but now I knew he was still interested in me I was flat out ticked.

  “Tobi, I’ve been working sixteen hours a day putting all of this together. I never wanted to work for my father and….”

  “Wait,” I yelled, because this was news to me. I had our lives all planned out. We would live together and spend every second attached at the hip. We would drive to work together as he made his way up the various departments to the room with the arched wall, then we would come home and cook together, clean together, shower together, and get into bed together. It would all be so perfect, but now he was throwing a wrench into my plans. “You don’t want to work at Carmichael Corporation?”

  “No, that has been my brother’s dream, not mine,” he stated adamantly.

  “Then what is your dream?” I asked.

  “I want something small, but with growth potential. I want something I can run by myself and enjoy being a part of it. I don’t want a big corporation; I just want a simple life.”

  It sounded good, but he hadn’t really explained anything. I still had no idea what he had been working on. I was afraid to ask him to explain; in case he had told me previously and I missed it. I remained quiet and he finally said, “I’m going to talk with my father tomorrow. He isn’t going to be happy.”

  “Tomorrow is the party, why would he be grumpy on a party day?” Most likely because the cliché party was planned by a committee and a list had been made.

  Julius ignored my question and spoke with a softer more subdued tone. “I still have some things I need to tell you. Some things you need to know about me.”

  “I’m not worried,” I said confidently.

  I already knew the worst thing possible; he married Jen, ‘jiggle jugs’ Staple, so nothing he could tell me would make me change my mind about him. He probably wanted to tell me he ate ice-cream from the carton or drank milk from the jug. I guess I should begin a list of my idiosyncrasies. I liked ketchup on my popcorn, and I eat hot fudge from the jar, cold.

  He was speaking, and I forced myself to listen instead of wondering if I had any hot fudge in the fridge. “So, I’ll meet you there tomorrow,” he said.

  “At the party?” I asked, because I was only half listening as I headed toward the kitchen.

  “Yeah, get a ride with Claire and I’ll take you home,” he offered.

  Oh yeah, I liked the sound of his offer. I lost focus on my hot fudge quest and began thinking about my pre-coital body. I got onto the floor to do sit-ups as we said our mushy goodbyes. I finally decided my abs were on the better side of average, so I got a spoonful of cold hot-fudge.

  Turns out exercise and chocolate before going to sleep are not a good combination. I was lying in my bed with my eyes wide open at three in the morning. I finally got up in anger and tripped over my southern paraphernalia. I kicked it harshly across the floor and then picked up my neon orange shirt which accidently fell off the chair. It hadn’t done anything wrong, so I put it on my dresser. Out of desperation I decided to watch some awful television show, hoping it would put me to sleep. It was a black and white western, I think. It had a guy driving a semi so that confused me, but most of the movie seemed to be a western.

  Claire got up early and saw me on the sofa. She placed a blanket over my legs and it woke me up. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I’m too excited to sleep,” I said like a four-year-old. “Today’s the big party.” I was only pretending like it was the party making me excited, but it was more about having Julius to myself and hearing what his big dream turns out to be.

  Claire walked into the kitchen and pulled a watermelon from the fridge and began turning it into small pieces of melon balls. “What did you decide to bring?” she asked me. I knew she was really judging to see if it was appropriate, so I refused to tell her. Adults should never ask other adults what they are bringing to a party, it is simply rude.

  “Can I ride with you tonight? Julius will bring me home,” I inquired.

  “Are you two still together?” she asked, causing me to have images of turning her flesh into melon balls. Sure, he wasn’t around much lately, but it was only because he had figuring to do. It wasn’t like he was sneaking off to see his ex-wife. Oh please, don’t let him be sneaking off to see his ex-wife.

  “We’re practically glued at the hip,” I lied. Claire was dealing with her own drama and needed to keep her nose out of mine. I quickly left the room without looking to see if she bought my whole glue story.

  I took my time getting ready, confident my hair looked sexy, my clothing hot, and my attitude eager. I carried the brown paper bag with my contribution to the party to Amos’ jeep and climbed inside. Claire sat her creation of melon balls on her lap, making Amos drive slowly not to mess it up. I bet she makes him drive slowly when the baby is in the jeep, too. She was really becoming motherly and she wasn’t even showing yet.

  The party was held in the company parking lot. I was stunned when I saw all the carnival rides and the truck loads of sand which made it appear like we were on a beach. Every department was assigned something to bring, but the main meal was slow roasted barbeque pork from a huge spit. Claire set her watermelon down and reached for my bag. I quickly moved it out of her grasp and stuck my hand in to pull out a bottle of ketchup.

  “Why did you bring that?” she demanded.

  “Tomato is a fruit, I looked it up,” I explained, since she was dumb enough to procreate with Amos. I then pulled out my box of cookies proudly. She stared at them and then grabbed onto my arm harshly.

  “Look around here, Toto, do you see any dogs?”

  I jerked away from her tight hold and responded with my own anger. “They said we could bring our families, I’m sure someone will bring their dog.” At that moment I saw a cat wander through the gate, so I pointed and screamed, “Ah ha, there’s a pet.”

  “That is a cat, Toto.”

  Do cats eat doggie cookies? Maybe they would, but nobody ever offered them one. Cats may have been dying for a doggie cookie and denied just because they meowed instead of barked. Well, I was not denying any animal a cookie on the grounds of vocalization. It’s a new day at Carmichael Corporation where cats were now equal to dogs.

  “Shoo, go away,” Charlotte Carmichael was saying as she clapped her hands at the cat to scare it back out of the fence. “Go home, get out of here.”

  Claire laughed loudly, without even knowing it was Julius’s mother killing my equality stance. I should have known cats and dogs’ eating equally was too much to hope for. Stupid square people.

  Amos pointed at the bumper boats in a large tank of water and they took off to try them out. I wandered around the place looking for Julius through the crowd. I had no idea we had this many people working here, no wonder we beat Microsoft. I walked toward a grandstand to listen to the band play and ran into Kevin. He looked great in his short cut-offs and I wished there was some way I could have his thighs.

  He looked me up and down as his eyes grew large. “Wow, bright.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I want to be seen,” I said, leaving out the part about Julius doing the looking.

  Someone tapped me on the shoulder and I turned to see Sues in a pair of culottes and a ruffled shirt. She smiled and pulled a man forward to introduce him as her husband. She lied; he looked nothing like Warren Beatty. Instead, he was the spitting image of Ned Beatty. I felt a little compassionate and decided to let her look at Julius walk every once in a while.

  “Have you seen Julius?” I asked her, and my hands pulled into fists out of habit. She shook her head and pulled her husband away quickly.

  I wandered off to look around again and ended up at the bumper boats. I d
ecided to take a turn since the other boats were filled with little kids. I figured I couldn’t be bumped too hard by children. What I failed to notice was the water cannon attached to each small boat. As soon as the man running the ride gave his permission, water came from all directions. I pushed on the accelerator and took my tiny craft to a corner where nobody took notice of me.

  I was drifting softly as I watched the kids try to chase each other down. Suddenly, a full-grown man with slicked back hair approached and trapped me in the corner. I hadn’t noticed him before and something about his appearance screamed mafia. He pointed his cannon not at my face, or even at my head, but at my chest. I was thoroughly soaked, and the neon orange did nothing to hide my black bra.

  “What is wrong with you, loser,” I yelled angrily. He only laughed harder and continued to shoot at me. I held my hands out to block the spray, forgetting to retaliate with my own water cannon. “You just wait until my boyfriend shows up,” I threatened, not sure if Julius would find it fight worthy or not.

  “I’m only playing with you,” the stranger teased.

  “Well, act like other guys your age and play with yourself,” I said, as the horn sounded to pronounce the ride was over.

  I made my way to the platform and a worker grabbed a small rope on the front of the boat to pull me tightly to the metal. I climbed out, unable to hide my exposed bra since I needed both arms to steady me. The offensive guy was next to come to the platform, so I grabbed the rope on his boat and pulled it high into the air, dumping him into the cold tank of water.

  I was now wet, cold, and mad as heck. My perfect day was going to be ruined if I saw Julius looking like this. I headed to my cubicle to get an extra hoodie from my filing cabinet. I came to a screeching halt when I saw my guy sitting in my chair with his arms folded onto the desk and his head resting on them. I knew he heard me, but he didn’t move or respond.

  I leaned against the half-wall. “Hey,” I said softly.

  “Hi,” he replied, without moving his head or his arms.

 

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