Jameson wants me to sleep over tonight but I need to do my laundry and I really want my own bed even as old and springy as it is. Also, but he doesn’t need to know this, Lily and Karolyn are dying to her about the sex and the proposal. Hah! Girls. We can’t help it.
Once I got home and unloaded my bags I started on laundry immediately. My parents were still at work, so I could get away with doing just my clothes and not theirs too. You want to charge me rent to live in my own house? I’m not washing your nasty underwear!
In between loads of laundry I called Lily and Karolyn. We made plans to go out tonight for Italian and girl talk. I miss them. I can’t wait! We live in three different directions from each other so we opted to meet in the middle as best as we could.
“Okay, before the waiter comes and asks us what we want to drink – I need to know how big Jameson is.” Lily asks.
“Oh-my-god, Lily!” Karolyn shouts.
“Ha! I’m not going to tell you how big he is. I’ll just say it works fine for me.”
“Is that the nice way of telling us his dick is small?” Lily asks.
“Hi! On that awesome note, my name is Danielle and I’ll be your waitress. Can I get you ladies a stiff drink to go with this conversation? No pun intended.”
We all can’t help but laugh out loud. Thank God she appears to be in our age range and has a sense of humor.
“White wine all around please.” I request still trying to keep my fits of giggles under control. She nods her head and walks away. “Do you guys know what you want to eat? I had a late lunch so I’m not super hungry, even though it is almost 8:00 p.m. now.”
“Three simple words will ruin Jameson’s ego. Is it in?” Lily cracks.
“Stop trying to change the subject you little trollop.” Karolyn jokes.
“I’m not. I just know the waitress will be back shortly and will want to know our order. We can talk sex all you want after she takes our order.”
And I was right. Seventeen seconds later the waitress did arrive with our much needed wine and asked for our orders. Lily, Karolyn and myself had a great night of eating, drinking and talking about guys, sex, my proposal, the vacation and everything under the sun. Laughing until you cry is how our time together usually goes. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. We can talk about anything, no judgement, just honest feedback.
SATURDAY NIGHT, JAMESON AND I decided to have a simple quiet dinner out and head back to his apartment. We had a wedding to plan and money to save, so dinner and home was the decision. No pool hall, no movies, no bar hopping with friends.
When we got back to the apartment Marcie was sitting on the large wrap around couch in her usual spot, the reclining seat at the far right end, foot rest up, cigarette in her hand.
“Wipe your feet! Take off your shoes! I just finished vacuuming – again!” Marcie shouts.
“Ma, why are you yelling? And we always wipe our feet and take our shoes off. This isn’t our first time here, ya know?”
“Well, you two have been in and out all day and I saw dirt tracks on the carpet, so I had to vacuum again.”
“We only came back once but whatever. You don’t have to yell when we’re only ten feet away.” Jameson states.
I don’t want any part of this conversation, so I turn and hang my coat in the closet, push my shoes to the shoe mat and stalk off to Jameson’s room. I could hear mumbles of their voices but it was brief. A minute later I heard the bedroom door shut and Jameson leaned his head against the door and let out a huge sigh.
“What’s her problem?” I asked.
“I don’t know and more importantly, I don’t really care right now. I just want to change my clothes, cuddle up with you in bed and watch some television.”
“Sounds good to me.”
March 10, 2002
What is that noise? It sounds like a wind tunnel and banging. Am I dreaming? I feel Jameson’s arms tighten around my side. I open my eyes and look at the clock on the nightstand next to me. I think it says 6:47 a.m. That can’t be right. I rub my eyes. It is 6:47 a.m. Why is there so much noise going on in the apartment? Oh-my-god is she vacuuming at this ungodly hour on a Sunday? She keeps hitting the bedroom door with the vacuum. I have to wonder if it’s intentional. I nudge Jameson awake.
“Why the fuck is your mother vacuuming so damn early?”
“What time is it?”
“It’s not even seven o’clock in the morning.”
“Ugh. I don’t know. The apartment isn’t that big. She can’t vacuum forever right? As soon as she’s done we can fall back asleep.”
“You didn’t hear her banging your door with the vacuum?”