Trying to Throw my Arms Around the World

Plus-one

Plus-one

I spent every night at Jill’s that week. Her company was pleasant. She cooked the most amazing meals. It kept me away from Eleanor and Lucy and it gave me something to do instead of giving in to the growing emptiness inside me, that lingering doubt, that seed that Eleanor had planted in my brain when she claimed that love was forgiveness. I missed Lou like crazy. Every time my phone rang I inadvertently, just for a split second, hoped it would be her. When I walked down the street I looked out for her dark hair and stocky walk, even though I was well aware she worked and lived in totally different parts of town. By Friday night I was ready to crack, ready to give in and go over to her house and work out some plan of redemption, but I had promised Jill I’d go to that party with her and be her plus-one. So instead of putting myself out of my misery I pulled my fanciest blazer from my closet, downed half a bottle of wine and went on my way to a glitzy bar in Chelsea to meet some lesbians between the ages of thirty-eight and fifty-two – I had quizzed Jill extensively on the demographics of the group I was meeting.

“Everyone, please meet Lee,” Jill shouted over the chatter. She put her arm around my shoulder and I could immediately tell which one of them was Sophie by the way her eyes shot daggers in my direction. Lucy and Joan were at the party as well and for the first time that week I was glad to be in Lucy’s company.

“Jill’s really fond of you,” Joan said. She wore a short-sleeved top and her upper-arm muscles bulged dangerously when she so much as lifted a glass. I understood why she wanted to push but her impatience clearly prevented her from coming up with a well thought-out game plan. Or maybe she did really think I swapped women like old clothes – oh, this one’s too worn, I’ll just get another one. “How’s it going?” I was still a little bit afraid of Joan and her impressive frame. 

“A broken heart doesn’t just mend with a few shags, Joan. Jill and I both know that.”

“Tell me about it,” an unknown voice beamed behind me. I turned around and looked Sophie in the face. What the fuck am I doing here? This night can not end well, I thought. Too much suppressed drama waiting to boil over. I was an expert and I knew the signs all too well. “Nice to meet you,” she said. “Sophie Ashmore.” I scanned the bar for a sign of Jill but she was deep in conversation with someone I hadn’t had the pleasure of being introduced to yet.

“Likewise,” I said as ironically as possible.

Sophie let her eyes dance over my body, scrutinising me from head to toe.

“Good God,” she said. “Jill’s gotten herself a teenager. There must still be hope for me yet.” She flashed me a vile, fake smile and left to sit with her friends again. I felt so utterly alone, so disgusted to be on display, so vulnerable and pitiful. Lucy, who knew me better than I wanted her to, grabbed my arm and pulled me towards her.

“Don’t mind her, Lee,” she whispered in my ear, “she’s just jealous.” She slid her hand to the small of my back and let it linger there. “And with good reason.” 

I didn’t want to be there anymore. It all felt so wrong and pointless. I just wanted Lou.

To be continued…