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Cara and I are lying on the grass in Greenwich. We’ve taken the day off to come down here with a picnic basket full of wine, cheese, and edible marijuana brownies. Cara’s been bugging me to try these, and I have finally given in and so here we are. It’s an unusually sunny day in London. We’ve seen the famous Cutty Sark and other sites. But mainly we are just here to get high and relax.
The last couple of weeks have been a whirlwind of work, work, and work. I’ve been spending my nights wearing out the batteries on my Handy Dandies—my cache of vibrators—as I fantasize about Simon, his fingers and body and what I imagine they would feel like—I’ve been giving myself the most epic orgasms I’ve ever had. I lost the piece of paper his number was on a week ago, but it’s okay because I took a picture of it as soon as I got home and charged my phone.
Cara has been harassing me to call him, but I can tell this man will be my downfall if I am not careful. He already has me daydreaming about him at work. What would happen if I actually saw him?
Now though, with wine flowing in my veins and edibles relaxing my inhibitions, I am staring at the picture of his number on my phone.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Ad, call him. What are you waiting for?” Cara squawks in my ear.
“I’m not waiting on anything, Care. I just don’t know if it?
??s a good idea. I can’t get distracted. I am working so much. I’ve got an assignment I can’t afford to fuck up. I don’t have time for anything more than something casual.”
Cara pops up from the position she’s been in for the last hour, flat on her back, and sits in a Lotus position. She grabs my phone from me and slaps me on the shoulder. “That’s exactly why you should call him, dumb-dumb! You need to get laid, bitch. Your pussy is growing cobwebs. “
I wince from the sting in her slap and glare at her. “Care, he was too hot. I am sure he has a girlfriend or ten. Also, he smelled a little bit like piss that night. He might be homeless or live in a drug den. I mean what was he doing getting dinner at midnight?”
“What do you have to lose, Ad? He doesn’t know your number, he won’t know who it is and you can just hang up. How can you stand not knowing? How can you deny fate?” Each question is asked with a higher pitched tone than the one before until I finally snatch my phone back and start to dial. Just to make her shut up, of course.
My heart is only racing because I’m annoyed at her badgering and my fingers are trembling because of the combination of wine and weed.
The phone rings four times. Just as I start to think he won’t answer, a voice, cheery but slightly harassed, says distractedly, “Hello? Sorry, I dropped the phone.”
And I almost drop the phone. I’m speechless. A woman with a young, chirpy voice has answered Simon’s phone. “Hello, anyone there?” And then I hear a baby crying.
I mumble, “Wrong number,” and hang up.
I open the picture and look at the number and then go back to my call log and double check that I dialed the right one. I did. My stomach drops.
Cara’s been staring at me expectantly. When I put my phone away she pounces. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
“Well, let’s see. His wife or baby mama, or someone answered. And then, I heard a baby crying in the background.” I relay this in a voice that is barely above a whisper. I feel like such a fool.
“What?” She shrieks and sits up. “Are you sure? Did you dial the wrong number? Maybe he was visiting a friend and she answered his phone?”
I sigh and lie back on the blanket. Staring at the sky, I respond. “I don’t know, Care. But Occam’s razor and all that—the simplest answer is usually the correct one. I mean, look, I don’t know this guy and now I’m not going to get to know him.” I force nonchalance I don’t feel into my voice.
Cara picks up her phone and starts punching out a text.
“What are you doing?” I lean up on my elbows and toward her to try to get a look at her screen.
“I’m texting Louis. He’ll know.” She says calmly.
“No, don’t.” I shout as I snatch her phone from her hands. “I am not desperate, Cara. I don’t want him to know I called. For real. Leave it alone. Promise me.”
Cara eyes me for a long time. Then she sighs and plops down in the grass next to me. “Fine, Ad. Fine.”
I tell myself it’s for the best. Of course he’s married and cheating. I had no reason to expect anything else. Isn’t this what people do? Deceive their families, destroy lives for their own selfish gains? No, it’s for the best. The disappointment I feel is only because I’m losing my buzz. I pick up another marijuana laced brownie and take a huge bite.
Cara, sensing my need to move on, picks up the iPod, gives me one bud of the headphones and puts the other in her ear. And as Rihanna screams in my ear, I lay in the grass with my best friend and remind myself why it’s better that it happened this way. The man, in the twenty minutes I spent in his presence, made me forget what’s real. He made me dream of things I have no business wanting. And I don’t have the time or room in my life for anything more than what is already there.
I smile at Cara and reach into the basket to pull out another bottle of rosé we have chilling and smile conspiratorially at her. My girl is always game and sticks out her red plastic cup as I start to pour. We lay back, and I’m in my safe place again. With my best friend, my music, my favorite cheese, and everything is right in the world.
August 23, 2014
It’s Saturday and I’ve got to go into the office. I hate it, but they have been flexible since little Henry came into my life I don’t feel as though I have the right to complain. I start my walk to the tube station and as I approach, I decide to call my neighbor, Sharon, to make sure she’s got everything she needs. She has been an amazing help, happy to fill in when Kyle and I aren’t around on the weekends.
During the week, Henry’s nanny, Mercy, comes to the flat to watch him, but on the weekends we are on our own. This isn’t the first time I’ve had to ask Sharon to step in to help. Even though she says she loves babies, I am starting to suspect she might be angling for something more than just the chance to cuddle Henry.
