No Tomorrow: An Angsty Love Story

I feel like someone injected a rainbow up my butt. I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt so happy, so hopeful, and so excited for each new day to start. I’ve started going to the park again, because now I can think about Blue, and I can visit our memories without falling apart. I can smile at the ghosts of our past that still linger under the old bridge, and not run away from them.

Four weeks of talking on the phone for hours every night coupled with pages of heartfelt emails has changed us. We’ve rebuilt our friendship, and are creeping toward more. I won’t jinx it by putting a label on what we are.

We video chat on the weekends, and he plays guitar and sings for me—all shirtless and sexy and swoony and I feel like the luckiest girl on the planet. One night after Lyric went to bed I put Acorn in front of the web cam so Blue could see him, and he started to cry. When Acorn heard his voice, he ran around in excited circles with his penguin in his mouth.

We’ve talked about spending a weekend together, and we’re figuring out what would be better—me flying to him, or him coming to see me. The best part, the most shocking part, is his new willingness to meet Lyric if things go well between us after a few months. If—and only if—he remains clean. The plan to meet Lyric was entirely his idea, which is huge. Huge!

I’m going to be very cautious with Lyric, though. Meeting her father will be confusing for her, and life changing. It’s a big commitment on Blue’s part that will require a lot of patience and I’m not sure he’s ready for all of that yet. In the meantime, I’ve slowly made Lyric aware that I’ve been talking to a ‘friend’ every night, to ease her into the idea of me having a man in my life other than Josh.

Tonight I make spaghetti and meatballs for dinner, and we eat together—Josh, Lyric, and I, which we try to do a few nights a week. Growing up, my parents always insisted we eat dinner together as a family every night. Now that I’m older I can look back and see how important that was—to have that stability with loved ones every day. I want to give Lyric the same.

After dinner Josh leaves for a date, Lyric works on a Lego castle she’s been building for the last week, and I do forty-five minutes of aerobics in front of the television. Before heading upstairs to shower, I check my email and see I have one from Blue.

Piper,

I feel like shit tonight. It’s just a headache but I’m gonna hit the sack early.

I hope you had a good day, beautiful.

I’ll call you tomorrow night.

Love,

Blue

I reply:

Blue,

I’m so sorry, I hope you feel better! Call me if you can’t sleep, I don’t mind if you wake me.

I miss you bunches and love you always.

Kisses,

me

“I missed you last night. Do you feel better today?”

“My head is still fuckin’ rocking. I missed you, too, babe.”

“I wish you didn’t still get these headaches.”

“Me too. They’re gettin’ old. Tomorrow I’m going to look into flights, if you’re still okay with coming here? You can meet the guys, see where I live. We’ll go out to eat, look at the local sheds. All that happy stuff.”

I laugh at his shed joke. “I’m totally fine with that. Except the shed part.”

I’m looking forward to seeing Blue’s condo and be in his world. I’ve often wondered what kind of decor he’s into, what color bedspread he has, if he has any photos on the wall. They’re such simple details, but will mean so much to actually see.

“And I’ll let you decide if you want to stay at a hotel or stay here with me. Or I can stay at the hotel with you. Whatever’ll make you happy, I’m down with. I’m paying for it, so don’t even try to argue about it.”

“If you insist. Let me think about the hotel thing. Once we figure out dates, I’ll let HR know. I’m sure my mom will love having Lyric for a weekend, and Josh won’t mind taking care of the pets for me. He’s home most of the time.”

I hear the click of his piercing against his teeth. “Who’s Josh?”

“My roommate? I’ve mentioned him a hundred times.”

“You never said it was a guy.”

My brain cells spin around like the Windows hourglass. I’m positive I told him about Josh quite a few times over the years. “Um, I kept saying Josh. That’s a guy’s name.”

“You never told me that.” His voice is flat, almost cold now, and completely different from a few moments ago.

“I’m sorry, I just thought you knew.”

“So where does Josh sleep?”

“In his room. Blue, there’s nothing going on if that’s what you’re thinking. We’ve been friends since high school. And he’s gay. Well, bi. Whatever. But we’re strictly friends. We’ve been living here with him in his house since Lyric was three years old. I don’t know what I would’ve done without him, to be honest.”

“It’s his house?”

“Yes. It’s huge. We all have our own bedrooms and bathrooms and there’s a big fenced-in yard and a swing set. It’s perfect for Lyric and Acorn.”

“So you guys are all living together like a family in his big house?”

His voice rises with each set of questions, and I can picture him running his hand through his hair and pacing around the room. I’m clueless as to why he’s suddenly getting angry about my living arrangement. I know I’ve mentioned it to him many times and I can’t understand how he could have forgotten.

“Well, yeah, I guess if you want to put it like that, then yes. Josh has been great helping me take care of Lyric over the years. He takes her to school sometimes, he spends a lot of time playing with her. She thinks of him as an uncle. He’s a good guy, and she’s crazy about him.”

There’s a long silence on the other end, and I wait patiently, hoping that’s the end of this conversation and we can go back to planning our weekend together. Unfortunately, the silence continues, reaching into awkward proportions, until I have to put an end to it.

“Is something wrong? You sound like you’re getting mad and I don’t understand why.”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure how I feel about all this. With this guy.”

“There’s nothing to feel. He’s just a friend who offered me an amazing place to live. My apartment was way too small for myself, a toddler, a cat, and a dog. I was having a hard time finding something bigger that was also in a nice neighborhood, close to my family, and close to my office. I was doing my best. I wasn’t expecting to have a dog and a baby, remember?”

I probably shouldn’t have added that last part, but he’s starting to upset me with his mild insinuation that I’m doing something wrong.

“Oh. So some other fucking guy just gets to have my chick, my kid, and my dog? And I’m not supposed to be pissed about that?”

“Nobody has your anything, Blue. You left, remember? I was alone and doing the best I could to give Lyric and your dog a nice home. Excuse me for not getting your permission, but I had no damn idea who or where you even were!”

I’ve never seen him act like this—tossing out accusations and walking the line of jealousy over another man being in mine, Lyric’s, and Acorn’s life. Has it taken all these years for him to regret his decisions?

“Why haven’t you moved out? You must make enough money now to get your own nicer place. Especially with the money I send you every month.”

“Because this is our home. I have no reason to leave. And please don’t throw money in my face. You don’t send it every month for one thing, and when you do, I put all of it into an account for Lyric for when she’s older.”

The telltale spark of the lighter is heard, then an angry inhale. “I don’t like you living with some fucking guy who I don’t even know. And how do I know what else you’re keeping from me or what else is going on?”

“Don’t you dare!” I seethe, fed up with all of this craziness. “I’m not keeping anything from you, and there shouldn’t be any issue over Josh at all. If it weren’t for him, I never would’ve seen you that night in Boston. He’s the one who got me the tickets.”

He scoffs. “You want me to thank him, Piper? Pay him back for the tickets? I’m sure you regret that whole night, anyway.”

My blood starts to boil and now I’m the one pacing my bedroom, from the door to the window and back again.

“What is wrong with you tonight?” I ask. “Why are you acting like this? Josh is a friend and that’s it. And no, I don’t regret that night, even though it turned into a total disaster.”

He says nothing. I want to cry and throw something across the room.

“I’m gonna go,” he mumbles.

My stomach drops. “You’re just going to leave things like this?” I ask tearfully.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore. I need to go do things.”

“What?” My voice catches in my throat and it takes me a few seconds to recover. “What things?”

“I just need this to stop. I have to go for a jog. There’s a lake I like to jog to and I want to go before it rains. I should do about ten miles.”

I pull the phone away and stare at it, then put it back to my ear. “What are you talking about? It’s late.” He’s three hours behind me, making it ten p.m. there, which is late to go for a ten-mile jog around a lake.

Isn’t it?

“It doesn’t matter what time it is, Piper. I just want to jog.”

I let out a massive sigh of mental exhaustion and close my eyes for a full five seconds. His erratic mood swing is confusing me, and I don’t want to fight with him, especially when things have been so perfect. I need this to stop, too. I’m not going to go for a jog, but I’m definitely going to go to bed and hope for a better tomorrow.

“Okay,” I say. “Do what you need to do, then. It’s late and I have to work in the morning.”

Questions sit at the tip of my tongue, but I suck them back. I won’t ask him if he’s started doing drugs again. I won’t make him feel like I’m doubting him.

“I’ll call you tomorrow.”

Click.

Did he just hang up?

Without saying goodbye or I love you?

He did.

Crying, I sit on the edge of my bed and cover my face with my hands. I’m tempted to pick up the phone and call him back and somehow undo what just happened and go back to happiness and normalcy. Past experience has taught me that if I force him to talk, he will just put walls up, though, and that’s the last thing I want to do. He’ll end up walking fifty miles tonight and end up God-knows-where.

A scratching sound breaks through the sound of my own sobs. Acorn is pawing at the bed.

Smiling weakly, I pat the bed next to me. “Come on up, pupper. We’ll go to sleep.”

He whimpers and rests his chin on the mattress, lifting one paw up.

“Come on,” I say softly. “Let’s go to bed.”

He whimpers again, lifts one front paw, then puts it back on the floor, then lifts the other paw, only to put it back down. His big brown eyes stare up at me and I realize he can’t jump up. Frowning, I bend down and gently lift him onto the bed, and I curl up next to him, my face close to his, nose to nose. I stroke the soft fur of his forehead and watch his eyes close as he falls asleep. So many times this dog has comforted me, kept me warm when I shivered in the shed, kept me company on my loneliest days. People should be more like dogs—with unwavering and unconditional love no matter what. Always happy to see us, always grateful to be with us, never hurting us.

Tomorrow I’ll ask Josh to build a ramp next to the bed for Acorn, and Blue can screw himself if he doesn’t like it.