Early Saturday morning, Lauren rang the bell at Nikki’s house in Beechwood Canyon. He was dressed in faded jeans with the hems torn at the heel from his boots and a crème dress shirt with subtle piping.
The doorbell rang, and Nikki yelled, “Door’s open!”
Lauren walked the hallway, and Nikki yelled again, “We’re in the kitchen!”
“We?” Lauren thought as he entered the kitchen with a phony smile.
“Good morning, Lauren. Babe, get him some coffee.”
Nikki shot back, “I don’t need you to tell me to get him coffee. Do you want coffee, Lauren?”
“Eh, sure,” Lauren already had a gallon of coffee, but she worked hard to defend him.”
“Do you want more, Babe?”
“No.”
Nikki moved across the kitchen to the coffee maker.
“I used to drink a lot of coffee, but now it aggravates my rectal fissures. Do you know what that is,” the husband asked.
“No.”
“Rectal fissures is when you get a small tear in the lining of your anus…”
Lauren continued his telepathic conversation with Nikki, “Are you kidding me with this?”
“I know it’s all he talks about…”
“… it causes pain in your sphincter, and when there’s tension in the sphincter…”
“I thought you said he wasn’t going to be home today?... I wish he’s stop saying sphincter.”
“He wasn’t supposed to be here. He’s running late.”
“… so I can only have one, maybe two, cups of coffee.”
“Well, can’t you interrupt him?”
Lauren slid closer to Nikki and touched her hand, but she pulled away.
“So, you’ve never heard of it?” Nikki’s husband asked.
“Babe, it’s late.”
“Oh my, I have to run. See you kids later. Behave yourselves.”
Lauren gave an odd nervous laugh, and her husband laughed too.
An hour later, Nikki’s and Lauren’s faces were under the sheets in one of the bedrooms. Lauren thought it was one of their more intimate moments until…
“Lauren, we have to say goodbye,” Nikki said with her eyes closed.
Lauren rolled away from her.
“It’s different with you, and I love you for it, but it’s not forever,” she continued.
“I thought, or hoped, you might leave him. I love you. I’m at my best with you.”
“I don’t think so. You’re just unhappy. Perhaps, if you were more set up.”
“Set up,” Lauren turns back to face her.
“Established, I mean.”
Nikki reached over to her nightstand and handed him one of her ugly ceramic mugs. The mug was red, with a face on it, with a nose and eyebrows added to the side, lumpy eyebrows, and a pointy nose. It was pretty ugly.
Lauren looked indifferent, holding the gift like he had won a really bad prize.
The next morning, Lauren woke to his daughter gently slapping him in the face: “Dad, you overslept again.”
Lauren lingered in his depression but pushed on anyway. They sat at their long kitchen table with their bowls of cereal. His daughter stared at the ugly mug positioned in the middle of the table.
“Dad, what is that?”
“Ceramics. A mug. Do you like?”
“Where did you get it?”
“An artist friend.”
“Someone who gives you something that ugly can’t possibly be your friend.”
One year later, Lauren was sitting in a restaurant in Hollywood with a new woman. The restaurant had no windows and red leather seats, and the walls were quite busy with many little paintings. The woman was tall, with long black hair curled at the ends. The waiter approached with a platter of crème boule, whiskey, and the bill. They lingered before breaking the hard shell of sugar.
“Go ahead, it’s your favorite,” Lauren shared.
“I was thinking we could go to the pier with your daughter tomorrow.”
“She loves it there. Sounds perfect. Are you ready?”
Lauren and the woman exited the restaurant. Laurel looked across the outside patio and saw Nikki and her husband at a table.
Nikki looked up and smiled, “Well, look who’s out in the world. I knew I’d see, you said. Is it true love?
“Time will tell.”
Nikki’s husband looked up to see Lauren with his woman on his arm. She kissed Lauren on the cheek. Nikki’s husband reacted and looked at Nikki as reality caught up.