Page 7

LIAM

All I want is her. All I see and smell is her.

LIAM: How stalkerish is it to say I already miss the feel of you?

My house always calms me, so I lean back on the mantel to get my bearings. The house dates back to 1771; 1984 for my family. It’s 3500 square feet smack-dab in the middle of Philadelphia, but my mom always made it feel cozy. When my dad died, the ex-wife demanded we take ownership of it. Even though I adored my other house, I gave in, and we renovated this monster. The best thing to come out of our marriage, besides the cats, is this house.

My Society Hill grandparents picked out this house and the life they thought my parents should live. The prestige matched the position they wanted my father to assume in society. My whole fucking family tree is riddled with pretension. I’ve wanted nothing to do with any of it except the memories in this house. I’m standing in my dining room mindlessly snacking on cheese, chatting with college friends.

JILLIEN: New phone. Who dis?

LIAM: An old friend. Stalker.

She wants to play, let’s play.

JILLIEN: Pervert.

LIAM: You have no idea.

JILLIEN: Seriously, who is this?

LIAM: Minister of Silly Walks.

She glances at me as I do my best silly walk. She laughs from her perch on the davenport in the living room at the end of the house.

JILLIEN: You know, you showed me Python first.

LIAM: You had a nightmare and came upstairs to watch TV with me really late. Python came on after Dr Who, and I said, I loved this one. You didn’t know what it was. We shared the red plaid big comfy chair near the TV and hunkered down under an old afghan together.

JILLIEN: What were we like eleven and twelve? I didn’t think you’d remember.

LIAM: I remember.

A long bang of hair falls gently over her left eye, and I want to walk across the room and tuck it behind her ear. People are talking at me, and I’m nodding but lost in thoughts of her.

JILLIEN: The graveyards around here creeped me out, so I couldn’t sleep. I only felt comfortable cuddling with you or playing backgammon late night against your dad.

LIAM: I never knew that. How often?

JILLIEN: I’m a pretty wicked backgammon player. I was here a lot.

I see her chatting with a neighbor, and she glances at her phone.

LIAM: Strange talking as adults. You have a tiny human.

JILLIEN: To be fair, he’s not tiny anymore. He’s moments from thirteen and taller than me. And you have a wife and apparently lots of cats.

LIAM: Had a wife. And she took three fifths of the cats. There are only two left.

JILLIEN: Seriously, two cats are running around here? Your mom is prattling on about how the tulips didn’t get split in time. All I can think about is your corduroy-clad bulge.

I need to throw her up against the nearest wall and drive into the deepest part of her relentlessly until we both come hard. I shift circles of friends to get a better view. My not-bad-looking, annoying neighbor grabs her attention. I text to hold her focus.

LIAM: I’m enduring a legal question from this idiot in front of me.

JILLIEN: Lots of money in law.

LIAM: You going to fuck me for my money?