A Pact For Life

by Elliot, Graham

  Smart enough not to make the situation any worse, the drunk intern stood up and stuttered, “I...I'm sorry, ma'am. What time do you usually get in?”

  “If I don't have them by 6:30 AM, then don't bother coming in ever again.”

  She was bluffing, but it felt good to give her first official order as a partner. Truth be told, that work wasn't urgent, but she wanted to give her new powers a test run.

  Jenny Ferri, Diana's assistant and thus, by occupational circumstance2, closest friend, came over and whispered, “Now that you have all this authority, how about raising the drinking age for firm parties to twenty-five?”

  “I was thinking about making a new rule; all staff are barred from firm functions until they actually pass the bar.“ Diana felt embarrassed the moment she said the second 'bar' because Jenny originally wanted to become a lawyer. Attempting to salvage any sort of humility, she added, “I mean... that rule applies to interns only.”

  “It's alright,” Jenny said as Diana's embarrassment was apparent from her face matching her hair color.

  With her closest friend next to her, Diana hoped Jenny could provide a set of ears for the problem that gradually had become apparent throughout the night.

  Now you have to understand, Diana Young was not the type of person to just talk about her problems with other people. In order for her to open up, it had to be important. Or else she had to be drunk. In this case, it was both.

  “Jenny, do you think my life is too consumed with work?”

  Before answering, Jenny checked Diana's wine glass. It was almost empty. Hesitantly, Jenny brushed her short, black hair behind her ears, and said, “Oh... umm, well you certainly seem happy when you're working. Isn't that a good thing?”

  No words were needed for an answer, only a foul look. Jenny was right in that Diana was happiest when she worked, but that wasn't something Diana wanted to admit. Especially in her current state.

  But brave Jenny decided to press the issue. “Diana, what's the matter?”

  Diana's earlier inadequacy came to a breaking point, and she couldn't hold back any longer. “I've spent tonight listening to people talk about their families, while all I could talk about was work. It's like this switch I can't turn off no matter how hard I try. I always thought at this point in my life, I'd have a great job, which I do, but I also thought there would be more. An intelligent, successful husband, and like two or three kids. But every night when I go home, the only thing that greets me when I walk through the door is more work.”

  Jenny had little to say after this pouring out of Diana's heart. The only solution she could think of, and this was mighty risky by the way, was to ask about Diana's only substantial relationship. “What about Cale? You guys were together for what, like four years? Do you still see him?”

  Diana lowered her head and laughed. The mention of Cale made her remember she had forbid him from attending any of her firm's functions after one particular Cale-like disaster.

  So the story was this. After hearing how cruel a senior partner was toward Diana, Cale said out loud amidst a group including the man and his wife, “Do you guys realize that rapists have ruined our ability to hitchhike in this country? It really sucks for people like us trying to get a ride because every girl thinks you have a hidden agenda.” To make matters even worse, Cale brought the partner in for a hug and whispered, “We've all been there. Haven't we, my brother,” and winked at Diana across the room. She was furious at the time, even going so far as to break up with him that night. But looking back on it now, it brought a smile to her face.

  Returning back to the conversation with Jenny, Diana said matter-of-factly. “I haven't seen Cale in over two months. I told him I never wanted to see him again, and I guess he finally listened.”

  “That was a good call. He really knew how to push your buttons,” Jenny said while debating internally whether or not to tell Diana she invited Cale to the party.

  “I mean, we had some fun times together, and he was always good for a laugh, but Cale was never fully interested in me. In the choice between Cale the artist and us the couple, Cale the artist always won.”

  “I'm sorry,” Jenny responded. She was unsure what else to say, but knew it was time for Diana to leave. The only thing worse than being depressed at your own party is being joyous at your own funeral.

  The goodbyes were quick and to the point, which was the trait of Diana's that everyone expected, but more importantly, valued. With a hug and a few drunken superlatives such as, “Best assistant I have ever had,” Diana left Jenny.

  Alone in a cab, she rode through Denver's downtown toward her condo where the closest thing to love was a half completed pre-nup. It wasn't a long ride back, but it still provided plenty of time for Diana to think.

  She thought about the people she went to high school, college, and even law school with and how she had reached a higher point in her career than almost all of them would ever achieve. Along with this thought also came a delving into their personal lives. A vast majority of them would've been married with kids, and most likely they were happy and fulfilled without needing to work sixty hours a week to accomplish such happiness.

  She remember all the guys she broke up with because they took too much of her precious time needed for studying or working. There hadn't been a lot of guys in Diana's past, but there were one or two that could've amounted to something more than just a couple months’ worth of dating.

  By the time she arrived at her condo, all of her accomplishments and triumphs had been forgotten, and all Diana could only think about were 'what ifs?'. She felt like crying for every mistake she ever made right in the back seat of that taxi, but the sight outside brought her some level of composer. Hell, it even managed to make her smile a little.

  Sitting on the curb in front of her building, partially hidden in the darkness, was a man in a gray shirt holding a bouquet of flowers with dirt trickling from the still present roots.

  That idiot Cale had not forgotten her.

  A PACT FORMED BY THE STARS, THE MOON, AND THE DRINK

  “So let me get this straight, Cale. You let yourself get beat up in order to defend some girl's honor?” Diana asked while she examined Cale's swollen face and crooked nose.

  Cale grabbed a bottle of wine and started to open it as he mockingly said, “There you go again trying to twist the story around with your lawyer tricks.” He sheepishly smiled and popped the cork off the bottle. “I was defending the honor of two girls, darlin'.”

  Cale always called Diana, darlin'. It wasn't darling in the smooth, Clark Gable sense and certainly not the Huckleberry Hound, call for Clementine sense. Rather, it was more in a way that he cared for her, but only so much. That's why it was so fitting that he rarely pronounced the last letter.

  Diana shot him a disinterested look and removed a single glass from the hanging rack, leaving Cale to drink the wine in his preferred method – straight from the bottle. With her glass filled, she walked out of the kitchen toward the balcony, yelling back, “Why are you here, Cale? I thought we were gonna forget about each other and move on?”

  Following her outside, Cale coyly said, “I guess I forgot to remember that I was forgetting you, darlin'.”

  “You've used that line before.”

  Cale sat on the ground with his back to the wall and smiled. He wouldn't admit she was right, even though they both knew it. He took a drink from the bottle and quietly sang out, “Diana, Diana, Diana, I would die for you.”

  “I wish you wouldn't sing that every time you see me.”

  “Sorry darlin', no can do. That line is perfect for you.”

  Diana gave a look of 'I'm not so sure about that,' and took a drink from her glass of wine. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, she asked, “So... have you been working on anything new?”

  “Nothing but shit,” Cale replied and wiped a hand down his face. It was a weird feeling to have your nose be in a place it shouldn't.

  “Shit like what?”
<
br />   Cale really didn't want to go into that much detail about his issues, but the alcohol provided the necessary convincing. “I finished a sculpture for a courthouse about two months ago, but that's been it. They gave me $15,000 to make one graphite ball with three titanium beams protruding from it. It took maybe six hours of work. I've reached the point where I'm trying my hardest to make a mockery of the whole thing just to see what they will believe. I told the city officials the ball represented man's spirit and the beams were his ideas, emotions, and beliefs. They called me a genius.”

  “You don't sound happy?”

  Cale took a swig from the bottle. “I'm coasting off my former work for jobs I can't stand to do. Do you know how many years it's been since I've had inspiration for a personal project? Those ideas used to come so naturally. Now there's nothing.”

  “That's funny, you didn't seem so bothered when my firm hired you for the lobby centerpiece? You acted happy and certainly took your time with it.”

  “Well that was different. I dragged it out because I was waiting for you to go out with me.”

  Diana thought back to the numerous rejections she gave Cale when they first met. He was too rough, too loud, too wild, but most of all, too different. But she also remembered how that first date made her feel more adventurous, more beautiful, more intelligent, and most importantly, more smitten than ever before. From the moment Cale held her hand on the walk to dinner until he kissed her cheek at the end of the night, Diana was lost in a flurry.

  “I'm sorry you are struggling, Cale.”

  Cale took another drink and said, “I feel like I've lost the most important thing in my life. Without a sculpture to work on, I have nothing. I miss the feeling of being consumed by a project.”

  Hearing Cale's admittance brought Diana back to her own problems. With drunken candor, she blurted out, “Cale, my career's cost me a chance for a family.”

  “You have a family, darlin'. What about Jack, Caitlyn, and your parents?”

  “I mean kids and a husband. I've reached the age where if they haven't happened yet, then they're never going to happen.”

  Even though it had been at the back of her mind for awhile, this was the first time Diana admitted out loud that her chance at a family was gone. It was this verbal declaration that made her tear up, a sight Cale had only seen once before during a spectacular fight that occurred in the same setting with similar blood alcohol levels. Cale stood up and tried to put his arm around her, but was met with a shove. Embarrassed by her vulnerable looking state, Diana fled to the bathroom.

  Alone on the balcony, Cale moved over to the railing and took several wine filled gulps. With Denver's brightly lit skyline and the radio towers from the mountains in front of him, he thought of their problems and wondered if there was some way he could save them both.

  “Well God, what do I do?” Cale asked his friend in the sky. “We can't stay like this. Something drastic needs to happen.”

  Something drastic needs to happen. This was the phrase that started to grow in Cale's mind. He went over various bold and life changing things he could do with Diana. Plans quickly came and were gone just as sudden due to some obvious flaw. After a dozen ideas were denounced, an idea finally struck that was so daring, bold, and original, he was certain there was a divine hand in its creation.

  “Thanks God, I owe you for this.” Cale said before he tipped back the bottle of wine and finished it off. Quickly, he raced for Diana's bathroom.

  Stressing the importance by using her actual name, Cale shouted, “Diana! Diana, come out of the bathroom! I know how to fix everything!”

  With disgust, Diana looked herself over in the bathroom mirror. The careful preparation she underwent for the party was long gone. Her once dark, green eyes were bloodshot and puffy from crying. Her carefully parted, long red hair was placed in a loose bun. The tight, black dress and everything underneath had been replaced by black sweat pants and a University of Colorado Law School sweatshirt. The only positive change, which she was too upset to appreciate, was the removal of the makeup that masked her flawless pearly skin.

  Cale had seen her without makeup and sloppily dressed plenty of times before, but the vulnerability she showed on the balcony prevented her leaving the confines of the bathroom. She pleaded through the door, “Please leave, Cale. I want to be alone right now. We can talk tomorrow.”

  But this idea was too good for Cale to leave. He considered fooling her into thinking he left, but decided to leave out the tricks this time. A plan like this needed honesty and sincerity.

  “Diana, I have a proposal for you. Let's have sex tonight.” There was probably a better way to start a talk of this magnitude, but that's not how Cale Dawkins operated. “One shot, no protection, hopefully you're still off birth control, and let's see what happens. If you get pregnant, then we'll get married. If you don't get pregnant, then we'll never speak to each other again. I'll keep my distance for good this time. It can be our pregnancy pact.”

  Diana opened the bathroom door and stared unflinchingly at Cale. As a force of habit, he put up his hands to apologize, but was met by Diana's grip. Maybe it was the many glasses of wine, or maybe she finally reached the point where desperation beat out rationality, but without giving it a second thought, she said, “Let's do it.”

  After foreplay that lasted slightly longer than it took both of them to get their clothes off, Diana was on top of Cale bouncing with all she had. Diana, like most women, had a reasonable goal every time she had sex, and this was a more powerful orgasm than ever before. Luckily for her, Cale, like most guys, would do everything in his power to give her this climax.

  He grabbed onto her waist and began to rhythmically slide back and forth with her. It was like his hips were constantly trying to catch up to hers. His mind on the other hand was in a struggle between enjoying the moment and not thinking about it too much in order to prolong it.

  There were two opposing forces at work in Cale's attempt at holding off what the scientists call ejaculation. The first was all the alcohol he consumed and the numbing effect this had on the most sensitive parts of his body. At the moment, this was beneficial, but as we all know, excessive amounts of alcohol typically spells disaster when sex is involved.

  If the alcohol made him numb, then the lack of a condom had the opposite effect. He felt every contour, moisture, and ripple of Diana. And the tightness! The tightness has to be mentioned.

  Cale knew he was coming to his breaking point, and it was evident from her screams that Diana was already long past it herself. There was no longer any pain in either of their lives. It was all joy. Ecstasy. Completeness.

  Finally, Cale couldn't hold out longer as a million different experiences, feelings, and thoughts flooded his mind while a million different DNA, RNA, and Amino Acids flooded Diana.

  In the throes of each other, it didn't take long for them to pass out. When Cale came, their consciousness left.

  The next morning, Cale awoke feeling more dead than alive. It was more than a hangover and more than getting pummeled in a fight. It was synergy. 2 + 2 = 5. Two horrible feelings combined into something greater than the sum of their parts.

  Cale's first challenge was to open his eyes which had developed bruises in every color of the dark spectrum. It was painful to even do something that basic, but he slowly peered out, turned toward Diana's side of the bed, and saw nothing but the covers neatly made.

  Out in her living room, Diana was preparing arguments for a high profile divorce case. Working on a Saturday morning was nothing new to her, but the reasons were different than normal. She was trying to distance herself from Cale. Of course, that distance only amounted to forty feet, but it was an improvement from the bed.

  She had no animosity toward Cale, it was all self-hatred. She was angry she let him back in her life. Angry at how vulnerable she felt the previous night. Angry at how good Cale made her feel. Actually, that last thought did make her angry toward Cale, but it was the type of anger
a smoker might feel toward RJ Reynolds.

  Above all else, she was angry about agreeing to the pact. No sane adult would have agreed to that, and even the insane would've at least given it a bit more consideration. Regardless of the result of the pact, she would lose something important. Whether that be Cale, or her precious work time, loss was inevitable.

  But... and this was a pretty big but, there was a way out of her predicament. It was a two-step solution that consisted of:

  1Canceling the pact.

  2Taking the morning after pill.

  Canceling the pact was easy. As soon as Cale woke up, she would tell him the pact was a mistake and they should just forget it. However, Diana didn't have the same conviction when it came to the pill. She could never admit it to Cale, and hell, she couldn't even admit it to herself, but deep down inside, a part of her wished she was pregnant.

  Back in the bedroom, Cale had achieved another feat that may have seemed insignificant to the sober. He was now at the point where he could keep his eyes open and think somewhat critically.

  He thought about the pact. Or to be more specific, its creation. The way he saw it, the idea was given to him by God. It was similar to the way sculptures used to come. And this gave Cale hope.

  There was this optimistic notion that God had not forgotten him. The idea for the pact was only the beginning. Sooner or later, his art, the truest love of his life, would return.

  After an hour, his physical pain diminished enough that Cale decided it was time to take on the next challenge of his day – getting out of bed. With both feet on the ground, he gingerly stood up only to fall back down again from dizziness. But an upright position had been achieved, which like the cavemen before him, grew easier with practice. It might be a tad over dramatic to compare the first bipedal humans to a hung-over twenty-first century male, but the similarities were there .