Trying to Throw my Arms Around the World

Comforting thoughts

Comforting thoughts

It was almost eleven when I finally knocked on Lucy’s door, my heart reduced to the size of a shrivelled pea and my ego crushed to absolute nothingness. I had to face her at some point and I preferred to have my melt-down in front of late-night Lucy instead of corporate day-time Lucy.

“Lee? What a surprise. I suspected you had forgotten where I lived.” She was dressed in jeans and a faded yellow hoodie, but the office sarcasm was still present.

“Can we talk, please?” I followed her into the sitting room. A large tub of Ben & Jerry’s stood open on the coffee table, flanked by a half-empty bottle of red wine. “Monday night blues?” I asked.

“Not as much as you, I presume.” Without asking she poured me a glass of wine and shoved it into my hands. “Is this about Joan?”

“Oh yes.”

“Didn’t go as planned?”

“You could say that.”

“Oh, Lee. How do you wind up in situations like this? You get more in a week than most women in a year, but at what cost?” Lucy sat slumped back in the couch, the cap of her hoodie propped against her chin, her glass resting on her belly. She looked a bit too relaxed. I expected her lips to stretch wide, into that deliciously wretched smile, any time now, ironically of course, and ready to be etched into my memory as the smile she sacked me with.

“In this case, employment.”

“Obviously, I can’t let you go through with it.”

“Really?”

“What did you think? I run a company, Lee, not an escort service.”

“Does that mean I’m getting the sack?”

“Look, I know we haven’t been the best of friends lately, but I was out of line this morning. I shouldn’t have threatened to fire you.”

“It wouldn’t be unjustified.”

“You should have kept it in your pants, that’s for sure. Actions do have consequences, you know, I think you forget that sometimes.”

“I might.”

“I’ll deal with Joan in the morning. You don’t have to worry about her anymore.”

“Thanks, Lucy.”

“Is it the girl?”

“What?”

“I just told you your job is safe, but you still look like you’re about to descend into the gloomy fires of hell.”

“I doesn’t feel right talking about it.”

“With me, you mean?”

“It’s just that Eleanor said something about you, huh, loving me.”

“Yeah well, that’s my problem.”

“Not entirely.”

“Did you lose her over this?”

“Yep. She won’t have any more to do with me.”

“Are you in love with her?”

“Yes.” It was the first time I said it out loud. How ironic that it was to Lucy.

“Then don’t give up.”

“You gave up.”

“Says who?”

“Is that why you’re not firing me?” She looked away then. I took it the only way I could − as silent confirmation.

“Look at us, Lee. Two bloody fools for love.”

“At least you have your career.”

“And you have yours.”

“And I have you.”

“That as well.”

“Can I have some more wine?”

“There will always be more wine, Lee. Isn’t that a comforting thought?” And then, there it was. The famous Lucy smile. It cut through everything, the shame, the guilt, the sense of utter worthlessness running through my blood, and it was my cue to start crying. Lucy held me in her arms for a long time, until the sobbing transformed into bouts of uncontrolled laughter and, until finally, I almost had to stop myself from kissing her. I hadn’t expected her to be so warm, so human, so forgiving. It had to be love, I thought. And, in that moment, that thought was much more comforting than any amount of the most intoxicatingly exquisite wine.

To be continued…