Nice to Know

Onward

Peter and I cuddled, watched Judge Judy, and at over priced room service pastries until the sun came up.

We'd become pros at avoiding the unknown and scary realities of our situation. There wasn't much we could do about it, so we generally drowned the pain in a sea of daytime television. 

When my alarm finally went off I sighed and went into the bathroom to attempt to cover up my permanent dark circles. Seeing as how I'm supposed to never really sleep again, I figured I should get good at it. 

My concealing process was interrupted by the buzzing of my phone.

I picked it up and sighed.

"Yes Ivan?" I answered.

"How long do I have to stay here. I thought I was just supposed to be your media guy."

"I don't have anyone else to watch her."

"I'm a journalist, not a babysitter."

"Don't under estimate yourself ," I grinned as I pinched the phone between my ear and shoulder so I could continue on with my makeup, "You can be both. "

"Why don't you just use Peter, what does he even do?"

I knew how to derail that question. Snickering I said, "Are you sure you want to know?"

"Fuck off," He grumbled, "I don't like it here."

"You have your laptop what else do you need."

"Fewer monsters."

"Tough," I said as I began brushing on foundation.

His voice dropped to a whisper, "All it does is cry."

"Don't be an asshole, get her a tissue or something."

His whispering ended abruptly, "IT. HAS. NO. EYES."

"Get creative. I have a flight in two hours. Bye." And I hung up the phone, giggling like a child. He was the funniest person to hang up on, I could see the vein on his temple popping already.

But for the sake of his sanity I sent a few thousand dollars to his online shopping account to keep him busy for a while.

"Are you terrorizing Ivan again?" I heard behind me. I looked up in the mirror to see a very sleepy looking Peter buttoning up a gray shirt. 

"It's a lot of fun."

"Poor bastard." He said, coming u behind me and resting his chin on the top of my head, "Are you ready for the next city."

"Yeah, can't wait. Let's drown ourselves in cheesesteaks." I said as I pumped a mascara wand in its tube. 

"Sounds like a plan to me." He said, kissing the part in my hair.

~

The flight from Minneapolis to Philly was short and uneventful. I'd nearly grown used to the never ending hours I spent on planes, a problem I never thought I'd have. But I knew the faster I did what I had to do the faster I could move on. 

As the seatbelt sign flipped on for landing I closed my magazine and noticed a set of eyes watching me from a few rows ahead.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath.

"Someone recognize you?" Peter asked. 

"Either that or I have a lot of food on my face."

Peter gently grabbed my chin and evaluated me theatrically, "Nope, nothing."

"Awesome." I groaned. 

As we made our way off the plane I did my best to pretend I didn't see the leerers. And it was lucky for me that I was already in that mindset.

As soon as we walked out of the doors to the airport to get our cab I saw the familiar flashes in the corner of my eye. 

"Don't look now," Peter whispered.

"Can't wait to see the headlines this time."

"They do get creative," I could sense him rolling his eyes.

We walked over to the familiar black car and the driver helped us load our bags into the trunk. I did my best to pretend the photographers weren't there as I ducked into the car. 

As soon as the door clicked shut I let out a sigh of relief. The tinted windows were a haven. 

I felt Peters familiar grip on my hand, quietly reassuring me. He knew I had little patience for the "It won't be forever" pep talks, so he resigned to this. Silent support. One of the few things that kept me going. 

We made a quick stop at the hotel to check-in and drop off our bags before heading to the next property. It was a building that contained a few apartments, a Thai restaurant, and a deli.

 I could smell the sausage the second I opened the car door. My lawyer was there to parade a string of buyers in front of me while I tried to eat lunch. And I gave him the usual answer, to do whatever he could to get it out of my life quickly. 

By the time I was done with the legal mumbo jumbo I realized Peter was nowhere to be found. 

"Peter?" I called as I walked out of the restaurant. 

He was lingering in front of the deli, staring intently in the window. He didn't even react when I walked up next to him. I could see the crease in his brow. 

"Whats wrong?"

He didn't even bother ripping his eyes away from the window as he said, "I think I've been here before."