Yeah, no worries. I got it.
Short fiction moment
Please enjoy this short foray into fiction
Fuck. Why am I such a goddamn mess?
I heard the train coming as I was rushing through the turnstile, when my jacket sleeve caught, sending my phone flying and a nail broken. I could feel my neck flush red. It was freezing, but I was drenched in sweat, and choking on a hundred tears.
I think any week prior, or proceeding, I could have pragmatically navigated this. But Meredith just called, she’s in back-to-back meetings and Jeremy is preparing for a Board meeting later today. They can’t step away. I have to go pick up Isabella from pre-school because they made her try the lunch they were serving, causing her to vomit because she thought it looked disgusting. Policy is, if you throw up, you get picked up.
It was technically my day off with the exception of handling school pickup for Noah. I was going to finally pick up my stuff from my ex and have “that conversation” and now I’m stressed about this extra shit I have to squeeze into my day. Everything feels like a crisis.
I took the L over to 8th Ave and rushed over to Isabella. I took a look at her in the school’s nurse’s office and she was… completely fine. Why the hell can’t she just stay? I grabbed her hand and made our way back to her home. She curled up on the couch like a little cat and I let her pick out a movie to watch. I wouldn’t be able to pick up Noah from the Upper West side for at least another two hours.
It was drizzling and March and still bitingly cold. I went out to the private terrace in the back. I told my ex on the way over I had to deviate from the plan, but I checked my phone and he hadn’t even responded. I know when we last saw each other I screamed at him and tried to make him feel basically worthless, but I still wanted him to care and make contact with me. It does just feel terrible when you love someone and in a moment of conflict, they decide to hook up with your friend before you can even take a breath and work on getting to the other side.
I looked up and huffed trying to get my heart and mind to s l o w d o w n. Everything was pacing and making me feel sick. I’m so behind on all of my readings and I don’t know where to begin.
I felt a buzz and saw Jeremy was calling.
“Hello? Hi Jeremy.”
“ Hey - how’s Isabella? Is she with you?”
“Yeah we got back just a bit ago. She seems fine, just taking it easy on the couch.”
“Fucking idiots. Why would they make her eat lunch if she’s retching in distaste?” Jeremy asked, perplexed.
“No clue. She seemed totally fine, just a little sad and worried because of the fuss they were making about her.”
“Unbelievable. Well, thanks for picking her up on short notice. I wanted to let you know Mere’s last meeting will wrap near Noah’s school, so she’ll manage pick up. Can you hang tight with Bella until 5?”
“Yeah, no worries. I got it.”
“Thanks so much, you’re the best. I owe you!”
There was always something a little gooey and perverted in his manner when he talked to me out of earshot from his family. Like yeah, you owe me. You owe me my damn wage and my agreed upon days off. He was really handsome though. And he paid me a lot, more than what most of my friends make in their part time jobs.
I shouldn’t complain, but these people are so strange. Or just so foreign to me. Thank God I get to watch two relatively sweet kids in a gorgeous brownstone in Chelsea, with primarily absent parents. Melinda did most of the heavy-lifting as the fulltime nanny, but I got to pick up some hours after I was introduced to Meredith through a professor.
I liked taking the kids to parks and cozy bookstores. I loved taking Jeremy’s credit card, letting the kids pick out something new and swiping a little something for me.
I opened Instagram and pulled up my ex’s page. I instinctually hovered over to the tagged phots and saw something new. He was tagged in a post over the weekend by this girl in his class. He was at some show with a big group of people at Baby’s All Right. Who the fuck are these people.
I texted him again saying I’d be done at 5 and could head to his place in the Lower East Side. He replied quickly, shortly.
“yea that’s cool. have to run out at 6:30 tho”
“ok i’ll head to you then”
Depleted and sullen, I decided to walk back to my place in the East Village. I guess I only had a tote and a few small things over there. An old t-shirt, a lip gloss, and two books I didn’t really care about. Feeling shame and disgust for imploring that my goods be released from his clutches.
The conversation was over before it had begun. I couldn’t stop myself from saying I still loved him. I reiterated I was so mad at him and that he hurt me badly. He didn’t return any words of assurance. He nodded along saying he understood. He was sorry, I guess.
Understanding that I wasn’t going to get anything more from this exchange aside from my tote holding useless memorabilia, I imparted my best wishes and showed myself the door.
I decided to walk up Avenue B so that I could pass by the park. It was completely dark by this point and still raining and starting to pick up. I lurched when I saw something move in the dark, two rats quarreling in a trash bag, then running across the sidewalk. I walked in the street for a small stretch to give two drunks in a screaming fit a bit of space. My brain was fuming, numb, but empty all the same. I wanted to be asleep, but had to remain on high alert until I was home.
I got to my door and walked through my scary and dilapidated entryway. Why do I pay so much to live somewhere so terrifying and disgusting?
I heated up leftover miso soup and some tea. Managed down a few sips of each. I collapsed in my bed and fell fast and hard into a deep, black sleep.
What could have only been 15 minutes later, I hear a soothing sound coming over me. A calming sound of water. It trickles and picks up. I feel relaxed and weightless for the first time in weeks. The water picks up speed. The trickle becomes a faucet. I think the shower is on. What is that?
I stir and open my eyes. Water is raining down from the ceiling. There’s a rush of water coming down over my closet, threatening to ruin my clothes. There’s another fucking leak.
Omg. Fuck.
I grab my clothes, throw them on the couch. The water isn’t stopping. It’s somehow actually 4am already, but the maintenance guy won’t be coming by until at least 7. I resign myself to the situation and listen to the water, barely fading in and out of sleep until then.
End.
Need to know what happens next 😭