Fill Me (8 page)

***

When I bought this house, I cursed its proximity to Laurie's place. She's always inviting Alyssa over, asking her to spend the night like the two of them are teenagers.

But right now I'm ecstatic that we're so damn close to Alyssa's best friend.

I get dressed and run the three blocks to Laurie's house. There's a light on in the living room and a low roar that sounds a lot like TV. She's home.

I knock on the door, but Laurie doesn't answer. A man answers. He's tall, good-looking, with classic black glasses. Exactly Laurie's type.

"Excuse me?" he asks.

"I'm a friend of Laurie's."

"I knew you had a booty call," he says. It's jovial. So they aren't an item. Just friends.

"Shit. At eleven. Only one person that could be. Does he have a lovesick look on his face? And is he just so fucking hot you want to scream?"

The friend laughs. "I wouldn't know." He turns back inside, to where Laurie must be sitting. "You describe me like that when I'm not around?"

"Come in, Luke," Laurie screams. "It is Luke, right?"

"Yeah," I say. The friend moves out of the way to let me inside and he shuts the door behind me.

It looks like it always has--a big couch, a bigger TV, a little bit of mess everywhere.

"This is Zack," Laurie says. "He's a college friend of mine."

"Nice to meet you," I say. Zack and I shake hands.

"And this is the guy I was telling you about. Alyssa's boyfriend."

"Oh, that guy," Zack says. He and Laurie share a smirk. "Sorry. Laurie is a terrible gossip."

"You begged for gossip the minute I picked you up," Laurie says. She laughs.

There's something different about her. She likes this guy.

"I'll apologize on her behalf," Zack says. "Laurie has always been rude. Ever since college."

"So what's up, Luke? I'm guessing it's about Alyssa."

"Is it inconceivable that I'd stop by to say hello?" I ask.

"At this time of night, yeah." She pats the couch and Zack sits next to her. "I don't have any information if that's what you're after."

"But you're visiting this weekend."

"You know, I have a telephone," she says. "And I also have a life outside of the drama hurricane that is you two."

"Me, drama? Don't be ridiculous."

She rolls her eyes. "I'm not spending my hiatus time trying to fix your problems. Get on with it so I can reject your idea."

"I'm worried about her."

"Did you talk to her?" she asks.

"Yes, I talked to her. But she's nervous and there's only so much I can do here."

"So go visit her."

"I will," I say. "But I can't get away from work until next week. And since you're going to be there already..."

"What do you want me to do?"

"She said she's been skipping meals."

"Really?" Laurie asks. Her expression fills with concern. "Are you sure?"

"It slipped out like it wasn't a big deal."

"But that's a huge deal!"

"All I want is for you to check on her," I say. "See if she's lost weight. If she's eating or not eating or being weird about eating."

Laurie looks at me. "I'll check on Alyssa because I care about Alyssa. But I'm not going to spy and I'm not going to give you a report."

"We have the same goal."

"I do like you, Luke," she says. "But you need to grow up. If you want to check on Alyssa, do it yourself. I'm not a tool you can use to make your relationship better. Alyssa is my friend too, and I'll do what I think is best for her."

"All I want you to do is check on her."

"Fine. But I would have done that anyway. And I'm not stupid. I know that if she's slipping in her recovery, I can't be the one to save her. I would talk to you and try and work something out together."

"Good."

"I wouldn't try and manipulate you into doing what I want," she says.

Zack interrupts. "Don't you spend enough time being a hard-ass at work?"

"Shut the fuck up," she says. "You have no clue what this guy is like."

"He seems sweet."

"No."

"It's nice that he's concerned about this Alyssa girl," Zack says.

"Please. Like you know anything about relationships. You haven't had a girlfriend in about eight million years," Laurie says.

"And you haven't had a boyfriend in nine million years."

Laurie smiles. She's definitely got a thing for Zack. She looks at me. "Fine. I can see Zack's point. Alyssa does love you very much and you do appear to have her best interests at heart."

"You think?"

"See! This is why he's so difficult to talk to," she says. "But, I do agree. We should be partners in this mission. Not adversaries."

"You two are ridiculous," Zack says.

"I want her to be healthy as much as you do," she says. "And I'll call you with my findings when I'm back in L.A." Zack clears his throat. "Or sooner if there is something to talk about." She turns to Zack. "Is that good enough?"

"Perfect." Zack turns to me. "You want to watch with us? We're marathoning
Battlestar Galactica.
"

"That's okay."

"You'd like it," she says. "It's way better than
Law and Order
."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that."

"But it's a scientific fact," she says. "All the lawyers on it are greasy jerks."

"Thanks," I say.

Laurie smirks, very proud of herself. "You should see President Roslin. She's--"

"As much of a head bitch in charge as you are," Zack says.

"Shut the fuck up! It's rude to call your friend a bitch, especially when she's kindly letting you stay in her spare room." She sticks her tongue out at Zack. Then she looks back to me with a hint of concern. It must be bad if Laurie is concerned. "I'll walk you out."

When we're out of earshot of Zack, she whispers to me. "I really do want her to be okay, and I will hold it against you if you fuck that up."

"Right back at you."

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Alyssa

The high-pitched ring of my doorbell wakes me.

Laurie.

What is she doing here so early? She's supposed to come over after her big, important New York meeting.

The doorbell rings again. And again. Yep, there's no mistaking it. That's definitely Laurie.

"I'm coming," I say and I roll out of bed.

I drag my heels to the door, squinting to block out the brightness. It's too early to be this bright.

Laurie greets me with a smirk. "I know you normally reserve that line for your boyfriend," she says. And she jumps, yes, jumps into my arms. Like a puppy. "Girl, I missed you. It feels like it's been a century."

"I'd figure you and Luke would be happy to be rid of me, since you both colluded to get me here."

Laurie shrugs, sheepish. "You're not glad you're performing on Broadway?"

"The theater isn't technically on Broadway," I say.

"Broadway means neighborhood. It doesn't necessitate a Broadway address." She enters, shutting the door behind her. She's not carrying any luggage, just a purse and a truly beautiful takeout cup of coffee.

"What happened to your meeting?" I ask.

"Had it early. The producer had to be on location today. We met at six a.m.," she shakes her head. "Horrifying, right?"

I nod. "What's the verdict?"

"I don't think it's happening. He wants to take the feature in a different direction, more 'four quadrant.' You know, code for we can't have a romantic comedy with a female protagonist or we'll turn off the dudebros who don't like these kinds of movies anyway."

"You sound bitter."

"More like annoyed. I'm crazy lucky. I've been working as a TV writer since a few years after college," she says. She takes a long look at me. "Alyssa, I can't lie. You look terrible."

"I didn't get to bed until three."

"I'll make you coffee." She moves to the kitchen, searching in vain for the coffee maker and beans. Laurie makes terrible coffee, even when she uses great beans. Too many years of forcing underlings to get it for her.

"That's okay."

"Girl, I can tell I'm not getting more than a peep out of you until I get some caffeine into you."

"But your coffee-making skills leave something to be desired..."

"Do not even!" She folds her arms. "Fine. Then we'll get it out."

"You want to go out?" I ask.

"Yes."

"You know the TV is here."

"I do more than watch TV. I go to the Paley Center."

Crickets.

"It's a museum about TV... never mind. It was supposed to be a joke." She shakes her head. "I want to show you around the village. With plenty of stops for coffee and food." She puts particular emphasis on the food, like she's also worried I'm not eating.

Great, another person who thinks my business is her business.

That's not fair to her or to Luke, but, right now, I don't care. I'm tired of being on the defensive.

"You sound like Luke," I say.

"Don't get too hot and bothered over it."

She pours herself a glass of water while I get dressed. I check my phone carefully for any contact from Luke. There's nothing new. Why would there be anything new when it's six a.m. in Los Angeles? He probably went to bed before I did and he's probably sleeping right now.

Then again, he's not exactly a sound sleeper. It's perfectly plausible that he spent the night working or watching TV on the couch or making another dirty video for me.

I check my email again, just in case. There's nothing.

"What's the weather like?" I ask.

"Typical late spring shit. Gray and muggy. Jeans and a T-shirt would be fine."

I take her advice and pull on a pair of skinny jeans and a fitted blue T-shirt. It's an outfit I can disappear in.

In the kitchen, Laurie slurps the last drop of her coffee drink and tosses it in the trash can. "Damn, girl. You really do wear clothes. Now, let's get some coffee before we both fall asleep."

***

We make it all the way to the village before we acquire coffee. That's four stops on a crowded subway car. Nearly half an hour of my brain flailing in a torturous caffeine-free state.

When we finally sit down at some little cafe that "absolutely has the best coffee in the city," I am in heaven. It's such a quaint place. Most New York restaurants are tiny--the tables are packed so tightly they're almost touching--but this one is especially cozy. The walls are painted pink and there's a huge clock on the wall that says "it's time for tea."

I take a picture with my phone and send it to Luke. He'd kill to get that clock in his house. Well, maybe not. It wouldn't exactly fit with his sparse
I'm not going to decorate until you agree the house is ours not mine
decor.

I shake my head. I don't need to deal with anyone's attitude today. I don't need anything but the giant mug of coffee in front of me. It's damn good coffee--strong and nutty with hints of cinnamon. I squeeze honey onto my spoon and bring it to my lips, letting the sweet substance coat my tongue. I could really put this honey to good use under different circumstances...

"Are you going to order food or are you just going to make love to your coffee?" Laurie asks.

"You should know better than to get between me and coffee," I say.

Laurie watches me lick every bit of honey off my spoon. I raise my eyebrows--a real
you got a problem?
kind of look. She just shakes her head.

"I wish someone loved me as much as you love that spoon."

"It's not the spoon. It's the honey." I squeeze more honey onto the spoon, this time stirring it into my coffee. Then I add a little almond milk and the drink is perfect--sweet, creamy, rich.

"So you and Luke use that when you fuck, right?"

"I need three coffees before I can even think about answering that question."

"He seems like he'd be kinky."

"Oh yeah?"

She nods. "Definitely."

"And what does he seem like he'd be into?" I ask.

Laurie screws up her nose. "I can't even think about it, or I'll get madly jealous that no one is that into me. God. He's so lovesick. Every time I look at him, he's about to burst."

"I thought you were done talking about our sex life."

"Not like that." She stirs sugar into her coffee.

"When did you see Luke?" I ask.

She shrugs like it's no big deal, but she doesn't fool me. Something is up. "You like eggs? This place has amazing omelets. Amazing."

I don't think about what I like. I eat food I know won't mess with me mentally or physically.

"I eat oatmeal."

"Fuck oatmeal," she says. "Get something good. Your BFF is visiting you in New York City. You need to celebrate it."

I narrow my eyes. "Not that you care?"

"Okay. Order whatever makes you happy. You like oatmeal, order oatmeal. It's not like oatmeal is the most boring, awful breakfast food. And it's not like you could have oatmeal at home for twenty-five cents any time you want."

"Maybe I like oatmeal."

"Okay, fine. You like oatmeal, you want oatmeal. Whatever. I'm sure you still have to watch your weight."

The waitress returns and I butt in before Laurie can order. "We're not ready yet, but can we get more coffee? And more almond milk? Thanks." I turn back to Laurie, folding my arms. I'm not going to start with this. Not today. Hell, not any day.

"At least you like the coffee," Laurie says. She shakes her head, slightly irritated.

I'm not about to open this can of worms.

"I really do like oatmeal."

She taps her fingers against the table, her jaw tensing. Then she shakes her head as if to say forget it. "So tell me about the show. I want to hear everything."

"There isn't that much to tell," I say.

"Are you kidding? There has to be some gossip. Are any of the actors horrible?"

"Stanley, uh, Nicholas, is pretty horrible. He's a great actor but he's a pretentious tool. He doesn't talk to anyone. He doesn't take direction. Don't get me wrong. He's fantastic during scenes, but he's a total weirdo when we aren't rehearsing."