HANNAH
I open my eyes a crack. The light hurts. I look around carefully, and I determine that I'm in Gran’s living room. She is sleeping in her favourite round reading armchair, under a blanket. What the hell? How did I get here? I try to sit up, but I feel like someone is sitting on my head. When I can finally work my way up to vertical, I clutch at my head. It’s splitting and throbbing. I groan quietly as the memories from last night slowly come back. I try to put together the pieces of the puzzle. I was in the shop, and then I read the letter from the court. I freaked out. And then the whiskey turned up. A lot of whiskey. The pub, even more alcohol. The loud music. A guy who was Jake or Jack. Dancing, sickness, puking, and … Jamie.
“Oh, shit! Shit! Stupid me!” – I scold myself, and at that Gran wakes up too, and she looks at me with furrowed eyebrows.
“Good morning to you too, darling.”
“Oh, sorry, I woke you up” – I groan, massaging my pulsing temples.
“It’s fine. Anyway I’ve slept more comfortably than last night.”
“You spent the night in the armchair? Because of me?” – I ask, horrified.
“You were in terrible shape. I didn’t want to leave you alone after Jamie left.”
“Jamie?” – I sigh guiltily.
“He brought you home. Do you remember?” – She asks, tilting her head. She makes her way up out of the armchair. She fights for a while, trying to stroke her dishevelled hair, but then gives up with a sigh. Instead, she sits down next to me on the sofa. I nod.
“He sat here on the floor until you fell asleep. He really didn’t want to leave, but I sent the poor boy home. He really looked like someone who needed a good night’s sleep too.”
I bury my face desperately in my hands as the pictures from last night start becoming increasingly clear to me.
“Oh my god! What must he think of me? I acted totally, maximally, and brutally like an idiot. Gran!” – I look up at her dispiritedly. – “If you only knew what I did yesterday.”
She holds up her hand in defensively and gets up laboriously.
“I’m not convinced, darling, that I want to know it. At least not before a generous helping of coffee.”
“Ah, I could really use one too.”
I get up carefully, preparing for the worst, but nothing tragic happens. I mean, my head is pounding, and in the place of my stomach, I feel an empty hole. But, the situation could be much worse. I follow Gran to the kitchen, but as I walk by a big standing mirror, I am horrified by the sight and quickly change direction toward the bathroom. I wash my face thoroughly with ice cold water and take quite a few sips of water. Luckily, I find a brand new toothbrush in the mirrored cabinet which I now gratefully inaugurate. Something’s wrong. Wrinkling my forehead, I slowly open it again and slowly scan the shelves with my eyes. And yes. I didn’t just imagine it. This is obviously a man’s razor, a small can of shaving foam, and a bottle of 007 aftershave. No way! I stare for a while at these toiletries with wide eyes. Gran’s yell pulls me out of my shock. The coffee is ready. I shake my head and close the mirrored cabinet. It’s not that Gran wouldn’t have the right to let someone sleep here, not to mention the other thing … I’m just surprised because she hasn’t even mentioned a word about having someone. She has raised me since I was 8 years old and never ever brought home a man. It’s weird. It’s very weird. Deep in my thoughts, I walk to the kitchen where the tempting smell of fresh coffee immediately hits me.
“Mmm, it’s heavily.” – I melt as she puts the cup in my hand. A bit of sugar, a bit of milk, just how I like it. – “Thanks Gran, you’re so nice.” – I blink at her gratefully from over my coffee, and she scans my face intently. She pats the tabletop next to her, giving me the sign to sit next to her. I sit and rest my hand on hers. In my current situation – according to last night’s events – I don’t feel I have the right to mention my discovery in the bathroom. Maybe another time. When I haven’t acted totally stupid like this. When I won’t be painfully hung over, and when Gran hasn’t had to spend the night in the armchair because of me. I sigh deeply.
“How are you?” – She asks, with condolence.
“Better. I mean, I could be much worse.”
“You scared me a lot last night.”
“I know and believe me I feel terribly sorry. Really. I’m very very sorry.”
“You don’t have to explain. Really not to me. I’m just worried about you.”
“I think everything started with this letter.”
“The court order?”
“I had no idea why it caused such a big shot to my stomach. Because River didn’t die now. I thought I was already over this phase.”
“It’s not that simple. It’s still about your husband and your marriage. It’s normal the letter would unsettle you.”
“I don’t know.” – I gnaw at the edge of my mouth unconfidently. – “I think there was something else behind everything too. Somehow all the shit fell on my neck yesterday. Like this letter broke the dam in me, and all the losses I’ve suffered were gushing out onto me.”
“Are you thinking about your parents?” – She looks at me sadly.
“Yes, how did you know?”
“You were saying weird incoherent things yesterday when Jamie brought you home. And also later in your dreams.”
“Oh my god! Seriously? I don’t remember what I was rambling on about.” – I bury my face in my palms, ashamed.
“Nothing awkward, if that’s what you mean” – she smiles, and at this I carefully peek out between my fingers. – “You said things like: Why did they leave? How could they leave me alone? Why did they have to do that? And the like.”
“Oh. That’s quite an issue.” – I scratch my chin.
“You’re inclined to repress your pain, darling. You’ve been like this even in your childhood” – she shakes her head disapprovingly. – “You were locked inside yourself and didn’t talk to anyone for months. I was worried sick about what to do and how to help you. It’s not a good thing Hannah. You are eating yourself from the inside, instead of letting your emotions go. And then sooner or later you crash.
“Like yesterday?” – I ask with an oblique smile.
“For example,” – she answers, and, walking to the dishwasher, puts her cup in. I walk to the coffee machine to refill mine. – “It was a stroke of luck that Jamie found you yesterday.” She’s completely right. I get nauseated even at the thought of how the night could have ended if Jamie hadn't appeared in the pub and grabbed me so firmly away from Jake’s arms. At this memory, my face blushes. I acted shamelessly, so I actually don’t even blame the guy. I gave him every reason to act as brashly as he did.
“Holy shit. What must Jamie think of me? I acted impossibly. I’m sure he doesn't want to see me anymore.” – I shake my head.
Gran laughs sharply, and furrowing her eyebrows, blinks obliquely at me.
“I really doubt it darling. When this boy sat here on the floor yesterday, broken by worry, watching your every breath, it didn't seem like he would want to cut you off.”
I just realised I didn’t even tell her Jamie’s big confession. I’m sure she’ll hit the floor if she hears it. Of course it’s possible that after what happened yesterday, it’s no longer relevant. Since I made a poor showing last night, I wouldn’t be surprised if my ex brother-in-law wouldn’t want to hear about me anymore. “Anyway,” – I scratch my forehead, confused. – “I owe him an apology and some explanation.”
Gran looks to the phone and shrugs her shoulder, like she has nothing to do with it.
“Do what seems right to you, darling. Whatever. I’m going to have a shower," – passing by me, she plants a kiss on my forehead. – “And, you should eat something too. One of us should run out to the bakery for fresh rolls.”
“Ok.” – I sigh. “But first I could really use a shower too.”
“I won’t argue with that” – she adds, and, blinking at me, goes to the bathroom.
I take a few more sips of the hot coffee to garner a bit of strength from it. Fuck! I wouldn’t be surprised if he doesn’t pick up the phone when he sees my number on the screen. Maybe I should try with a text instead. Chicken! – My eagerness echoes unsympathetically. Anyway, I don’t know where the hell my mobile could be. I’m sure it’s somewhere deep in the bottom of my bag. Giving myself over to destiny, I grab Gran’s landline and punch in Jamie’s number. Why do I even know his number by heart? – I wrinkle my forehead. In my soul, I prepare for the worst. When the phone rings once, twi..., huh?
“Hello.”
“H … ha… hello Jamie! It’s Hannah.” – I gibber, puzzled. I’m surprised he picked up quickly. I was prepared for a long wait, and that I would have to try quite a few times until I reach him. His voice is lively, a bit tense.
“Hi Honey. How are you?” – He asks with apparent worry.
“Oh, I … I don’t know exactly. I think quite good. My head is throbbing a bit, but this is the minimum after last night …” my voice catches out of shame. I hear a deep sigh from the other side, but for now he’s quiet. I fall into the chair and bury my forehead in my palm. – “I acted impossibly scandalously and shamelessly yesterday, Jamie. I am unspeakably grateful that you came for me. That you brought me home despite that …”
“I’m glad you’re all right” – he answers honestly. But his voice has some kind of sad undertone, which breaks me completely.
“Jamie, I feel so ashamed.”
“Honey, don’t.”
“But I do! And it’s important to me that you know. I’m not otherwise like this. In normal cases I don’t act like a streetwalker.”
“I know” – he answers softly.
“I don’t know what the hell was wrong with me yesterday.” – I continue explaining, not even paying attention to his meek answer. I try to convince him more desperately – or myself – that I’m not as much of a slut as I looked like yesterday in the pub. – “Or actually, I know. It started with the letter.” – I rub my hurting forehead and then realise how ridiculous this whole thing is. I exhale and start off. – “I want to thank you for what you did for me. Maybe if you have time, and if you are up for … we could have breakfast together.” – I whisper in the receiver unconfidently. – “Or maybe lunch, or dinner?”
“Breakfast is perfect” – he says firmly.
“Oh!” – I lift my head, surprised. – “Super. Great … when can you be here?”
“In a minute.”
In … a … minute? I repeat to myself, shocked. I know he drives at lightning speed, but one minute from his apartment in Regent's Park to here still sounds like an overstatement.
“You mean, in 60 seconds?”
I hear him clearing his throat, and I can almost see him in front of me as he scratches the nape of his neck. Well, this will be interesting.
“The thing is, that I’m here in front of the house. In the car” – he groans.
I hit the floor. Unable to speak from surprise, I jump up from the chair and go to the window. I flick the curtain back a crack, but so carefully as if I’m doing something illegal. Stupid. – I grade myself. I shake my head, angrily, and yank over Gran’s white curtain with the cupcake pattern with a firm movement. I stare towards the street and sure enough: on the other side of the street there’s a 1980s Ford Mustang parked. It’s true that cleaned and polished like this, it’s a completely different picture, but it’s undeniably Jamie’s car. My jaw drops. I literally leave my mouth open out of surprise, but then sobriety takes over me and an icy guilt runs through my spine.
“Holy heaven, Jamie. Don’t tell me you spent the night in front of the house in your car.”
“No, I didn’t. I went home, slept, went for a swim, and now I’m here.”
Well, this is the result of Gran’s charitable attempt to send the poor boy home to have a good night’s rest. I look at the clock on the wall. It’s 9:30. He usually swims at dawn so who knows how long he’s been camped out here in front of the house. That’s crazy! How does he have so much energy? All I was able to do today was to crawl from the living room to the kitchen and pour myself a pot of coffee. His answer arrives with a wicked exactness to my unstated questions:
“I don’t need too much sleep. It is the only useful side effect of Asperger’s.”
“Oh. Good for you. I mean … never mind.” – I scratch my forehead wonderingly. I’m afraid that I can’t bring myself into an acceptable state in 60 seconds. And we don’t even have fresh bread at home which I could offer you for breakfast.”
He laughs. – “Ok, well what about me taking care of the bread while you prepare?”
“That sounds great.” – I smile involuntarily. – “Thanks, Jamie.”
The line is broken, but I just stare ahead. I twirl my hair, deep in thought, when a coughing yanks me back to reality. Gran is standing in the threshold, freshly showered, clothed, and examines me, wrinkling her forehead. I put the receiver quickly back to its place and try to produce an intelligent expression.
“Something happened?” – She asks, suspiciously. I can’t help myself. Giggling bursts out from me.
“Jamie. He’ll be here with breakfast in 10 minutes.” – Gran blinks a few times, and then she notes, nodding in satisfaction: “The boy is effective.”
– Oh if you only knew. – I think to myself, but I’d rather not mention Jamie’s hyperactive activity at dawn to her. – “And you have 10 minutes to make yourself presentable. Shoo shoo, little girl!” – She adds with a smile and shoos me out of the kitchen.
#
JAMIE
I’ve been sitting in the car staring oafishly at her window for at least an hour. I’m still trying to get over my panic from last night. I can’t put into words what I felt when I saw her in the bar, drunk. She knocked herself totally out and everything was because of this letter. When I listened to the voicemail, I knew there was trouble afoot. She said something jumbled about family law court, River, who could die without asking her permission first, and that she wants to celebrate her marriage is officially annulled. I was driving to Soho like a crazy person. I wasn’t sure where to look for her. I almost dry heaved from the panic, and then I finally found her in the third bar. I didn’t act instinctively because then the bearded guy who was groping her on the dance floor would already be in the morgue. I am seriously proud of myself for the self-control. The psycho treatment was really useful. Honey was almost unconscious. I’ve never seen her drunk before. It’s really out of character. She was dancing barefoot and was wearing a scandalously short black dress. She was so damn hot, that in other circumstances, I would have gotten hard just at the sight, that’s the God’s honest truth. But this was something else. I had to take her out of there as fast as I could, and not just for her sake. I was dangerously close to breaking the neck of this bearded asshole, especially after he dug into me. I could have roared out from the pain. From her pain. Roar out because her love for River did this to her. Because she obviously still loves him and is suffering without him. Roar out of helplessness because I was not able to protect her from all this. To roar into her face to love me. I’m here. I will never leave her. I take care of her. After I sent Rachel away, I took her home to Janet’s. She was in a terrible state, but I knew good sleep would fix her. The physical part of it at least. I couldn’t bring myself to leave for a long time. I just sat on the floor in the living room and watched helplessly at how Janet took care of her. I would give my life for this woman. I don’t know if I will ever be able to express what she means to me. If she will ever understand how much I love her and that I will always love her even if she doesn’t want to hear about me at all. I got sick when I saw her suffering. I can’t stand if she’s sad. I would give anything, seriously ANYTHING to see her laughing again. If I could make her laugh. I sat on the floor until early dawn and waited. After she fell asleep, I put myself together and took off. Of course I couldn’t sleep. Instead, I went to swim, then came back to the house and now I’m waiting. I have no idea for what. I don’t have any plans. I just have to be close to her. I don’t know … just to feel secure. My phone is ringing.
#
HANNAH
I’m still drying my hair in the bathroom when I hear the doorbell. An unusual, but not at all uncomfortable chill runs through me. I feel his presence deeply in my viscera. He has an effect on me. I could try to deny it in vain. It must be because of his former confession. He really freaked me out with his attack of honesty. But I don’t even understand myself why I am surprised. Jamie’s really not the guy to muddle things up. The problem is that with this he just really entangled our relationship. Everything would be much easier he hadn’t had dropped that certain L-bomb. How can someone act with her ex-brother-in-law who just confessed his love for her? Is there some precedent for this, some prescribed behaviour?
The remnants of voices float from the kitchen, and I quickly turn off the hairdryer. I made a messy bun from my still wet mop of hair, and taking a deep breath, head for the kitchen. When I step in, both of them look at me. Gran, with the milk bottle in her hand, smiles at me, and Jamie immediately stands up from the table. He’s wearing slim-fit stone washed jeans with a brownish shirt with white horizontal stripes, and brown leather shoes. Simple and great. His hair is visibly freshly washed, and a bit unkempt. He can’t have slept too much last night, and that’s my fault. He seems dour-faced, his eyes sparkle darkly, but when our gazes meet, he quickly turns away. As he stands quietly in the middle of the kitchen, he almost fills the place with his weight. An irregular beauty. He’s a masculine strength and security radiating, obviously knee-shaking sight for every woman whom he’s not a brother-in-law to. But our relationship is different. For me, he is … he’s a bit like my brother. – I convince my unconscious, which is awakening with suspicious desires. Anyway, I’m glad he’s here, and I feel deep gratitude to him because he saved me yesterday from rampaging myself. What I would love most of all is to run to him, jump at his neck, and hug him tight. Gran’s presence doesn’t annoy me, but his body language obviously holds me back. He’s stiff and distant, and he’s unusually avoiding my gaze. I’m also surprised how painfully this thing is affecting me. But I still don’t blame him because after his previous confession I actually sent him away. It’s a miracle that he’s even here now. Actually what did I expect? So I decide on the more conservative solution. I step to him, stand on tip toes, and plant an innocent kiss on his face. He lets me, but doesn’t kiss me back. I don’t deserve anything else.
“Good morning, Honey,” – he groans under his breath and sits back down in his chair.
“Good morning,” – I answer shyly, and I take my seat too, across from him. – “Oh Gran, you’re so sweet.” – I say gratefully, looking at the laid out table. – “But I would have been willing to help you.”
“Come on, darling. But anyway, I had help setting the table” – she smiles at Jamie. – “And look at these wonderful fresh rolls and croissants. They are still almost steaming” – she gushes, looking at the crunchy bakery items.
“They are really tempting.” – I smile, but right after that blushing flows onto my face as my gaze meets Jamie’s. We begin the breakfast, but I still feel that my stomach hasn’t yet decided if it will accept the delicacies. I look shyly to the side and start.
“I’m sorry that you had to see me like that last night. I was in a terrible state.”
“You don’t need to apologise,” – he says simply, but with conviction. – “I understand you were freaked out. It happens to all of us sometimes” – he shrugs his shoulders, faking coolness, but somehow I don’t believe him.
“I drank too much all around, and I suspect I said a lot of stupid things on your voicemail.” – I blink up at him.
“Well, it was really unusual” – a weird small smile appears at the edge of his mouth. – “But I’m glad you did. At least this way I could find you.”
“Yes, at least this way you found me.” – I sigh, burying my forehead in my palms.
“He was so beside himself, the poor thing.” – Gran, who, until now, was pretending she was really occupied 100% with her breakfast interrupts now. – “He barely wanted to go home, he was so worried about you.” – she proves with innocent eyes. – “I tell you: he was sitting here on the floor until you fell asleep.”
As she mentions this, a blurry picture jumps into my mind too: Jamie is sitting leaning against the wall burying his face in his hands. Overwhelmed with softness, I look at him. But he rather buries himself in his glass of orange juice. Gran pats his arm lovingly, and she adds, “See, Hannah? This morning he is here again, to check if everything’s all right. This boy is a blessing.”
I know Gran doesn’t say things like this out of flattery. She honestly thinks it. I see on her face that finally she’s been able to prove her long years of sympathy for Jamie. Jamie closes his eyes and takes a big swallow. He doesn’t say anything, but I can imagine this obvious praise is a good feeling for him. For him, for whom most people just considered a disaster when he was a kid. My heart thumps loudly.
“You really co