I will eat and I will rehydrate, but I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep until I can see Birdie’s face and hold her in my arms again.
Just as I’m walking out to tell my cousins to get out of here so I can beat off to thoughts of my girlfriend in private, my phone rings and I answer it without looking at the Caller ID. “Thank God! I am so glad I actually heard my fucking phone this time!”
“Well, I’m very glad you answered too, but you kiss your mother with that mouth?” asks my ma.
And suddenly I’m sober and there goes my Birdie Boner.
“Hey, Ma. I was gonna call you.” I return to the sofa in the living room as my cousins get up and retreat to the kitchen. As if my ma can smell the booze on them through the phone. And let’s face it—she probably can.
“Declan said you’re in New York by yourself.”
“I’m not by myself.”
“I heard the online woman dumped you and now your sweet Birdie’s stuck on a train all by herself because you missed it?”
Fuck you, Declan.
“She’s on her way here, Ma. She’s fine. We text and call each other all the time.”
She just doesn’t get my texts, and we keep missing each other’s calls, and fuck you, Catholic guilt.
“What kind of grownup misses a train when they’re in town—right by the train station?”
“There was a lot going on. I got mobbed by fans. I had to buy a coat. I had to call my agent. It was snowing.”
“You sabotaged yourself.”
“I did not sabotage myself. I wouldn’t do that with Birdie.”
I can hear her sniffling.
She’s crying.
Well, this is a fucking unbearable surprising delight.
“Ma. Don’t cry.”
“I just don’t understand where I went wrong with you. Such a beautiful, sweet boy, but you just can’t seem to get it right. I don’t want you to die alone.”
“I’m not gonna die alone. I’m getting it right. I’m making it right. Birdie isn’t mad at me—she’s fine.”
My asshole cousins are laughing at me for defending myself to her. As if they aren’t total mama’s boys too. Assholes.
“Are Billy and Nolan with you? Are you drinking? During the day? While that girl is stuck on a train all by herself? Because you missed it?”
“Yes, I am here with two of my cousins from your side of the family, Ma. There was no stopping them from coming over. You know how it is.”
“I know that you’re drunk and you’re hungry and you should be sober and counting your blessings that you finally got yourself a good, real woman instead of those fantasy girlfriends with the boobs and the hair.”
“I do. I know how lucky I am. And Birdie has boobs and hair too.” I hold the phone away from my ears and roll my eyes at my cousins.
“Don’t you roll your eyes at me, young man. You think I can’t tell what you’re doing? Put me on speakerphone.”
“You want me to put you on speakerphone so Billy and Nolan can hear you?” I say, grinning at my cousins.
Billy and Nolan start shaking their heads and waving their hands.
“Okay.” I put her on speakerphone.
“William Oscar O’Sullivan. Can you hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am. Great to hear your voice, Mrs. C.”
“Get closer to the phone so I don’t have to yell.”
Billy takes one cautious step closer to my phone as Nolan backs away quietly.
“Closer! I don’t have all day.”
He takes ten loud steps over toward me. “Right here, Mrs. C.”
“You stop trying to corrupt my baby boy, you hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“You think your father didn’t try that garbage with me when we were growing up? You think just because your love life’s a mess, everyone else’s has to be too?”
“Yes, ma’am. I mean—no, ma’am. I do not.”
“Pull it together, kid. You’re better than this. You were a sweet little boy who made me the cutest Valentine’s Day card. When you were eight, you remember?”
Billy covers his face and mumbles, “Yes, ma’am, I sure do.”
“You remember what it said?”
He shakes his head.
Nolan is laughing into his leather jacket in a corner.
“You tell me what it said. I know you remember.”
“It said, ‘Hi Aunt Mamie. U R pretty and I hope I get to marry a lady like U when I grow up.’”
“That’s exactly right. You think you’re grown up enough to handle a lady like me yet?”
“I guess so.”
“That’s right, you are. And it’s about damn time too. Stop messing around and find yourself someone like me. And leave my boy alone. You hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“All right. You’re a good kid. Act like one. Now get outta here.”
“Thank you.” Billy exhales and stumbles back to the kitchen like he’s leaving a boxing ring after being knocked down in round one.
“Nolan Seamus Cassidy. You there?”
Nolan saunters over. “Aye, I’m here. Lovely to hear your voice, Mary-Margaret. Howya?”
“Don’t try to brogue me, Cassidy. I will not fall for it. You behave yourself when you’re a guest in my son’s home.”
“Right.”
“You think I don’t know what’s going on with you? Your ma and I email every week. I know you’re hurting—don’t try to drag my boy down with you.”
Now my brain hurts. This makes no sense to me. “Wait—why are you hurting?”
Nolan makes a face and shakes his head at me like my ma doesn’t know what she’s talking about. “Don’t you shake your head at me, young man. I know about the girl you met who suddenly stopped talking to you.”
“She’s just busy with work and travel,” Nolan explains to all of us.
“Uh-huh. You want to lie to your family and drown your sorrows, you do it on your own time, in your own place. Eddie’s there for Birdie, not for you to project your troubles onto, and he’s definitely not there for you to corrupt and destroy his beautiful, healthy young liver.”
“I swear I wasn’t projectin’ my troubles onto him.”
“He wasn’t, Ma. I don’t think.”
“Irregardless! You are older than him, Nolan Cassidy. You should be taking better care of him.”
“Agreed.”
“You want your girl back—you go fight for her. Leave Eddie alone to fight for his. And Billy…”
“Yes, ma’am?”
“You’re gonna get your shit together too, right?”
“Absolutely, Mrs. C. You got it.”
“All right, I love you guys. All of you.”
“Love you, Ma.”
“Nolan—you make sure my boy eats something.”
“On it.”
“You boys better leave Declan’s apartment the way you found it!”
“Thanks for calling, Ma. Bye now.”
“Good-bye, my sweet angel. Text me when you—”
I hung up on her. Shit. I did not mean to do that.
I immediately text her to tell her I didn’t mean to hang up on her and that I will let her know when I’m with Birdie.
Billy is now trying to figure out how to use Declan’s coffeemaker.
Nolan carefully puts the bottle of whiskey back in its cupboard, on the top shelf.
“What’s going on with you and your woman?” I ask Nolan.
He blows air through his lips and waves off the question. “She’s just givin’ me space. You know how women are.”
“Yeah. They’re the opposite of that. You got dumped, didn’t you?” Billy says, giving up on the coffeemaker.
“If I did, she neglected to mention it.”
“Yikes. She ghosted you?”
He combs his fingers through his hair and opens up the refrigerator, leaning into it. “Seems that way, yeah… Should we order in?” He grabs a bottle of Italian sparkling
water and hands it to me.
“Does she know you love her?” Never in a million years did I expect to have this conversation with Nolan Cassidy.
“Well, I’m here, ain’t I? Why else would I be in America if I didn’t?”
“Dude. You need to tell her.”
“I will, yeah,” he says sarcastically. “Pizza, then?” He walks away, and I swear I can see his lower lip quivering.
“I’ll order it.”
“Order coffee too, will ya? This fucking machine is broken, I think.”
They both pick up the tumblers from the living room and bring them to the sink, where Nolan washes them.
My ma’s right. They’re good guys. But I still want them out of here so I can be alone with my thoughts of Birdie and what she’s going to do to my whatever until I whatever.
Whatever it is, I am beyond ready for it.
26
Birdie
The One with the Hot, Hot Snowy Street Sex?
I’m here. I’m here I’m here I’m here I’m here I’m here. I am in Penn Station. It doesn’t look or smell very pretty, but Eddie Cannavale texted to say that he is in the building, and I don’t care about anything else in the world right now. I don’t care that I’ve had maybe five total hours of sleep in the past two days. I don’t care that a sweet little boy projectile vomited three feet away from me last night. I don’t care that I probably stepped in pee just now. I don’t care about that old man with no teeth who’s yelling at me about the hot dog that he lost here ten years ago. I definitely don’t care about the TEDx Talk that I’ll be missing later this morning.
All I care about is telling Eddie that I love him—to his stupidly handsome face—and then engulfing him with my vulva.
When I step off the escalator, I look around for the stairs near the 7th Avenue exit, because that’s where he said I’d find him waiting for me. My heart is beating so fast, I don’t even feel tired anymore. When we were just friends, there were stretches of time when he’d be shooting in Vancouver and we wouldn’t see each other for a few weeks between his visits back home to LA. We’d always keep in touch and I still hung out with him more often than anyone else because—well, I’d almost always rather stay home than go out with anyone besides him. It was always fun to see him again and maybe that’s what kept the spark alive in our friendship over the past couple of years.
It has only been two days since I last saw Eddie, but I have never missed anyone so much. He’s the same person, but I know more of him now, so I missed more of him, I guess. And I’m not just talking about his penis or his abs or his butt or his hands or his mouth. I’m talking about his heart and his soul and his real feelings. And his tongue.
And there he is. All of him. My best friend. My boyfriend. The best-looking guy in Penn Station, even under his baseball cap. He’s holding a bouquet of red roses and blue violets and standing there smiling at me because I’m his valentine.
I run over, drop my bags when I’m in front of him and jump up and down. “I love you! I love you! I love you!” and then I throw my arms around him. I am fully aware that I’m about as sexy as Will Ferrell in Elf right now, but fuck it. I do love him. I love Eddie Cannavale even more than I love Santa and Benedict Cumberbatch. There. I said it.
“I love you too,” he says into my ear. “A lot.”
I can feel the flowers tickling the back of my head as I pull back to kiss him on the lips. “I love you, I love you, I love you,” I tell him in between each kiss. He tastes like toothpaste and testosterone, with just a hint of whiskey and pizza, and it all makes me even hungrier for him.
There are about five inches of polyfill and fleece padding between us, but I can feel his body heat and his muscles and his semi under all of it, I swear.
I’m not suggesting that our separation or what I’ve been through on that train is anywhere near like what the American soldiers and their lovers experienced, but I keep thinking about those black and white pictures of those couples kissing outside Penn Station. I used to wonder what it would be like to reunite with someone you loved that much, and now I know.
“Where’s Rupert?” he asks almost cautiously.
“Lord Knob Head of Tosserville decided to get off in Albany and hired a car to drive him the rest of the way. He offered me a ride, but I declined.” I try to squeeze him even harder. “You’re the only one who’ll be giving me a ride from now on.”
“You got that right, Luv.”
“However, he does still want to interview me for his podcast.”
“As he should. You’re brilliant.”
“That casting director was on the train too.”
“I actually saw her bolting out of here right ahead of you.”
“Did she see you?”
“Nah. I’m not ready to think about that meeting yet.”
“Okay.” I inhale his neck, in the way that I have wanted to before but never dared attempt. He smells like snowy beach sex and it doesn’t make me angry at all.
We still haven’t let go of each other.
“I’m so tired, but I’m so happy to finally be here with you. I want to do everything. I want to see everything! Let’s walk to the hotel from here.”
“Are you sure? It’s like twelve blocks away and it’s really cold out. I took an Uber from Declan’s.”
“I know, but I want to see as much of the city as I can!”
“It’s still kind of dark out and it’s really cold and there’s a lot of snow on the ground, but sure.” He finally lets go of me, hands me the bouquet of flowers, and picks up my suitcase and weekender bag.
I clutch the bouquet to my chest. “Thank you so much for the flowers!” I close my eyes to smell the roses, and I think I may have fallen asleep for a few seconds. As soon as I open my eyes again, I blurt out, “Let’s have sex somewhere!”
“Okay.”
“Like somewhere discreet, on the way to the hotel, I mean.”
“Yes. I’m on board with this.”
“Or maybe I should shower first? I probably smell like flop sweat.”
“No, you smell like you.”
“Oh.”
“I mean, in a good way. Not sweaty.”
“Okay. So, yes to sex on the way if we can find like, a corner to duck into or something?”
“Yes to sex with you whenever, wherever. We might get mugged, but it’ll be worth it.”
I can tell he doesn’t really think I want to have sex on the way to the hotel, or that I would if we could, but I do. I’ll show him. I don’t want to get arrested or anything, but I mean, we’re twenty-six years old and this is New York. People probably find discreet public places to have sex in all the time here.
I get up on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek and then give the bouquet of flowers and a twenty-dollar bill to a beautiful homeless woman who’s curled up on the floor by the storefront nearby. Now both of my hands will be free to have hot, hot snowy street sex with Eddie.
“Did you get any sleep last night?”
He shakes his head, yawning. “I was too excited to see you.”
I take my weekender bag from him, and we hold hands. People pass by us, staring down at their phones, completely unaware that they are in the presence of two people who used to be friends and are now madly in love with each other. It seems incredible to me that they could miss this, because it feels like I’m shouting about it from every one of my cells. I’m in love with Eddie Cannavale and he’s in love with me too and we’re about to have the kind of reunion sex the likes of which New York City has never seen!
Or maybe we should take a nap first, I don’t know.
The cold air simultaneously slaps and bites me in the face when we step outside. There is about half a foot of new-fallen snow. The sun is just starting to rise, but it is still fairly dark out.
“I love it. I love it here.”
“Already?” He looks up and pulls me to the left. “This way.”
“You know how to get there without looking up direction
s on your phone?”
He nods toward our right. “We head over to the Empire State Building and then go up Fifth Avenue.”
I gasp when I spot the Empire State Building. “Wow! That’s it, right there?”
“That’s it.”
“Wow, it’s just like—right there!”
“Yup. You chose that hotel because it’s close to the library, didn’t you?”
“Yes sir, I did!”
“Well, I got us tickets to an after-hours party there tomorrow night. At the library. A Valentine’s Day party. If you want to go to that.”
I stop in my tracks and yank him back so I can kiss him again. “I just had an orgasm, and I’m not even kidding.”
“I believe you. The thought of being in a library with me is incredibly sexy.”
“Last month you made fun of me for wanting to go to the library here.”
“I know. I’m still gonna make fun of you when we’re there. I just want to be there with you.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“It’s so fucking cold I can’t feel my feet. Whose idea was it to walk to the hotel anyway?”
We cross the street, almost slipping, holding each other up. We are stumbling through Manhattan, hand-in-hand, laughing through chattering teeth. It’s kind of surreal. I have this vision, of looking down at us from up above, like we’re in a movie. Or maybe I’m slowly freezing to death and having an out-of-body experience.
Either way, we look happy.
When we’re across the street from a Sephora, I look up at the Empire State Building, which is just a block away.
“Wow.”
The top of the building is all lit up with red lights, and it takes my breath away.
And it also takes my balance away.
I start to fall forward, and with his Superman reflexes, Eddie senses it, immediately turning to catch me. But he falls backwards into the snow and I land on top of him. It all happens in slow motion, as these things often do. The snow and thick coats cushion our fall, and we both laugh while asking if the other is okay.
His baseball cap falls to the ground, along with our bags, and his arms slip around my waist, trying to hold me in place. I can’t stop laughing, and I’m just kind of bouncing and sliding around on top of him.
A Very Friendly Valentine's Day Page 16