Bliss Ch. 06

"You're jealous," he said, stepping up to the front of my desk and placing his hands on it. I looked up at him, his expression fighting between incredulity and humor. "Of Alyssa. I can't believe it."

"I'm not jealous of Alyssa," I said hotly. He raised an eyebrow but didn't speak. "I'mnot, Malcolm."

"Then what is it?"

"I don't know if I can explain it without seeming childish."

"More than you already do?" he teased.

"Thank you, Malcolm. I was feeling merely uneasy, but you managed to push that right up to embarrassed." I leaned back in my chair and looked up at him. "What's your next trick?"

"I am sorry, Melody, but I cannot believe you are jealous of Alyssa."

"I'm not jealous of Alyssa," I said. I got up and went back to the window, my back to him. "I'm jealous of her freedom with you," I said, watching a coast guard patrol boat as it rode alongside a ferry.

"I beg your pardon?"

"She can laugh and...and...flirt with you. Freely. In front of everyone. She can bat her eyes at you and lean in to you and tease you." I turned back to him, crossing my arms over my chest and shrugging. "And I can't."

"This was what you wanted."

"I know."

"This was your bloody rule."

"I know."

Malcolm came around my desk and stood next to me, looking out the window. "Two things to keep in mind, Melody. A person cannot be tempted or teased by dangling something in front of them they don't want." I looked at him and he nodded. "I'm not daff, just not interested."

"I wasn't implying -"

"I know." He turned and looked at me, smiling. He grabbed my right arm above the elbow and gave it a gentle squeeze. I smiled back at him, knowing he understood made me feel a lot better.

"I do need to be going," he said, glancing at his watch. "I will see you later." I nodded and he head for the door.

"Malcolm – wait. What was the second thing?" I asked.

"Right, sorry," he said, turning back towards me, his hand on my door knob. "I would gladly let everyone in the company know we were fucking. I could give a damn about their opinions." He winked at me and left, closing my office door behind him.

I turned back to the window, feeling heartsick at his choice of words. I traced the wakes of the boats in the bay and chewed my lips, willing myself not to cry. It was foolish of me to pine after him like this. From the start – the very beginning – he had let me know whatever we had together was purely physical, just a passing enjoyment of each other, nothing more. I sighed and went back to my desk, turning my chair around to face the window.

I thought back over the past couple of months with Malcolm. All the nights spent in his big bed, holding hands and talking softly to each other. It was – compared to what we were most likely doing earlier in the evening – almost obscenely sweet. And every time I spent the night with Malcolm, I would wake up with his arms around me or his legs tangled with mine, as if we had to keep contact with each other to ensure neither of us floated away. I thought on all the small considerations he always showed to me, like finding he stocked up on all my preferred brands of toiletries after that first weekend at his house or always having my favorite soda in the fridge. It was all those things and more – the looks, the caresses, the affection – that made me think we werebothfeeling more, that we werebothfalling.

I turned back to my desk and sat with my head in my hands, elbows on the spread of papers. I felt confused. I kept thinking I should be at the very least hurt, if not downright angry, but I couldn't really justify that. Malcolm never lied to me. He never mislead me. When we went out to the movies or dinner or wherever, he didn't fawn over me or molest me. Hell, he didn't even hold my hand. But he was always attentive to me andonlyme, as if there was no where else in the galaxy he would like to be. Even after his rugby games and practices, with all the girls there just kind of hanging around and flirting with the players, he always ignored them and zeroed in on me.

I looked over at the clock on my computer and saw it was just after noon. I picked up the phone and called Tony. Some things you just need your best friend for.

"We were just talking about you," he said when he answered.

"You're not telling Carl about the time the house fell on my sister again, are you Glynda?" I joked, smiling.

"There are some secrets even I won't tell, you wicked thing."

"Such a gentleman."

"What's going on?"

"What are you doing?"

"When?"

"Now."

"Now?"

"Yeah, now."

"Nothing. Why?"

"I need a big shoulder."

"Oh no – something happen with Malcolm?"

"No....well, maybe. Not that something happened, really. I....just need to chat. Just you and me," I emphasized. I adored Carl, but I'd been best friends with Tony since I was 15, and I really wanted to talk to just him. "I figure I'll cut out early and we can go hang out for a while."

"Sounds good. Just let me change and I can come downtown. I need to go to Sur la Table, anyway. I'll meet you at the market newsstand in about thirty minutes."

"Thanks. You're the best."

"This I know," he said, and hung up.

I sent Malcolm a quick email –

Feeling a bit blah so took aft off. Will be up for game tomorrow.

-M

- then gathered the spread of papers and folders on my desk. I neatened the pile and picked them up, standing and going out to Krissie's desk. I passed off the unappetizing chore of re-sorting them to her with the reward of taking comp time as soon as she was done. She jumped at the offer to extend her weekend, more than happy to sort for half an hour if it meant she could get out and enjoy the warm sunshine. I emailed Ian to let him know I was cutting out a bit early and letting Krissie do the same before updating my calendar and out of office notice. Then I quickly gathered up my bag and left, wanting to be long gone before Malcolm and Alyssa were done with their little meeting.

I walked out in to the clear July sun and head towards the market. It was a fine day and the middle of cruise season, so the market was packed with tourists taking pictures of the fish throwers and the giant brass piggy bank. I spied Tony looking at a copy of 'Out' and pushed my way to him.

"Thank god," he said, spying me behind a group of people, all wearing the same shirt and a name tag lanyard around their neck with the name of a cruise line on it. "I hate the market in the summer," he said with a sniff.

"You hate the market all year," I said, smiling at him.

"It's just sobourgeois."

"God, Tony, you're such a snob."

"This I know. Come, let's push our way to Sur and then get something really greasy and bad for lunch." We linked arms and made our way through the main crush of people to the curb. "Now, tell me what's got you upset," he said as we waited to cross.

I recounted the happenings of the morning, speaking plainly, starting with Malcolm's new device to have fun and ending with me standing at my office window and trying not to cry. Tony was aware of the nature of my relationship with Malcolm, so the bit about the vibrator didn't faze him, although he did make a few choice comments. By the time we were in line at Sur I had finished and was waiting for his response.

"You know I absolutely adore you, Melly, but you really can be a fucking idiot," he said, looking at me closely.

"Thanks. Your sympathy is underwhelming."

"This is all your doing. Don't you realize that?" He stepped up to the register and made his purchase, chatting about hollandaise sauce with the clerk for a moment. When he was done he grabbed my hand and led me outside.

"I know, I said keep it out of the office. Malcolm reminded me of that himself."

"Not that," Tony said, shaking his head at me. "Come on, treat me to a big falafel platter and we'll talk then, okay?"

"Sure," I said, allowing him to lead me to the Armenian take out on 1st Avenue. We ordered and took one of the two tables set up on the sidewalk, waiting for the food and not talking. The proprietor, a woman of about 100, brought our food to us and grabbed one of our hands in each of hers before bowing her head in prayer. Tony looked me, his face a perfect mask of surprise and I had to bite my cheek to keep from laughing. When she was done she dropped our hands and smiled at us, showing all four of her teeth proudly, and head back to her place behind the counter.

"That was seriously odd," I said, cutting in to my falafel to help cool them.

"I certainly hope you tipped her well, my dear."

"Oh?" I said, taking a sip of my soda.

"Yeah. I hope that wasn't a curse."

"Live in fear."

We ate in quiet for a few moments. The falafel was delicious, as was the hummus and pita and schwarmer platter we shared. I thanked Tony for introducing me to the place. I had been by it a thousand times before but never even noticed it. It was now going to be one of my favorite and frequented places to eat, weird table service notwithstanding.

"Do you know why Malcolm is so stand-offish with you, Melly? Not just at work, but when you go out?" Tony asked. I was happily munching away on some roasted chicken and hummus and didn't notice he had stopped eating.

"Not really, no. Sometimes I think it's because we have a sexual relationship. Everything else is secondary." I took a sip of my soda. "But when we're together, just the two of us, it seems like there's more to it."

"Thereismore to it." I snorted at that, but didn't say anything. "Do you remember the first time we went out to dinner together? We all met at Lola's?" he continued. I nodded, picking at the falafel. "We arrived before Malcolm, remember? Do you remember what happened when Malcolm walked up to us?"

"He kissed my cheek?"

"Only because you turned your face. He went to embrace you and kiss you and you got really stiff. As if you were uncomfortable being in public with him."

"No I didn't." I chewed my straw a bit, thinking. "Did I?"

"Yes. And he looked quite confused. I know we were."

"I didn't know I did that."

"To be quite honest, Mel, we got the impression you were ashamed," Tony said quietly.

"What? No." I sat stunned, thinking. "Really? I mean, I've never been ashamed of him."

"I know that."

"Shit," I groaned, so much making sense now. "Shit shit shit."

"Relax. It's not that bad. It's not like he isn't totally smitten with you."

"Oh really?"

"He lights up every time he looks at you, Melly. Every time, without fail." I glanced at Tony, wanting to see his expression. He was looking at me seriously, "It's the truth. You both do, really, but with him it's like...he's always so surprised you are there, like he thought you couldn't be real or would disappear; and when you smile at him it's as if he was waiting for something – some cue – to tell him to breathe and that was it."

"Really?" The old woman came back and gathered our dishes, giving Tony and I approving nods for having cleared our plates.

"Yeah. I'm seriously surprised no one at the office has picked up on it yet."

"Hmmm..."

"Now you just have to figure out how to backtrack a bit, rescind your ban on public displays of affection."

"Isn't that why you're here? To help me figure that out?"

"Oh please. If I could do that, I would have been living happily ever after long before Carl came along, wouldn't I?"

"True." Tony was never known for his long-term relationships. Every man he met was THE ONE for about a month or two, then he turned in to HE WHO SHALL NOT BE NAMED. Until Carl – who seemed to be able to cut through Tony's melodramatic bullshit and be his anchor. The two really made it look effortless sometimes.

"One piece of advice – be honest, be up front, and be prepared to grovel."

"And dinner with my family?"

"Ask him."

"That's it? That's your advice?"

"I am giving you pearls, here." He stood and grabbed his bag. "Now, if you don't mind, I am off to grab a cab home. It is warm and I am not up to a bus ride today." He bent and kissed my cheek. "We will still see you and Malcolm for dinner Sunday?"

"Alright," I sighed. I sat for a few minutes more, thinking back to what Tony had said. I knew he was right. I pushed him off because I didn't want him to feel obligated, like he had to make a show for anyone, least of all me or my friends. It was a ridiculous, immature thing to do, and I cringed at my own insecurity.

I got up and made my way slowly up Pike to 3rd. I was going to catch the bus home, take a long shower, and was just debating with myself on whether or not I should go to Malcolm's and surprise him tonight when I heard someone calling my name. I turned to look, thinking for some reason it had to be Malcolm, but didn't see him.

"Melody! Melody Williams!" I looked across the street to see a tall, skinny blond man waving at me. He looked vaguely familiar. I waited as he crossed the street and wove his way through the mass of pedestrians towards me.

"I can't believe it's you!" he said, putting his arms around me and hugging me tightly. I accepted his hug, recognition just out of reach. "It's been at least twenty years." Then it clicked.

"Robbie Baker!" I squealed, hugging him back just as intensely as he held me. Oh my god! Robbie Baker!"

I hadn't seen him since shortly after college. We were good friends, sharing the same major and a love for Tony. Unfortunately, Tony was never interested in Robbie, a fact which hurt him all through college. Robbie had moved to San Francisco after graduation and we had lost touch.

We leaned back, looking at each other and smiling goofily before embracing again. We laughed and talked over each other, firing off questions and compliments too fast for either of us to answer, leaving a plethora of unfinished 'when did...', 'what about...' and 'how did...'. We both suddenly stopped and hugged tight again, laughing, not heeding the people passing us with odd looks.

"You look amazing, Melly. Amazing," he said at long last, stepping back and grabbing my hands in his.

"Please.." I started, flattered.

"You look exactly how I remembered you. Exactly." His eyes seemed misty, and I looked at him closely. He was skinny, too skinny, almost emaciated. Dark circles under his eyes made his face look absolutely gaunt, and his hair was thin. My first thought was addiction, but he didn't have that ash to his skin that always seemed to me to be the telltale sign of heavy drug use. I looked even more closely, seeing a sore just inside his collar.

"Oh, Robbie," I said quietly, feeling the tears in my eyes. I was afraid to blink, I didn't want him to see them run down my cheeks. "What...?"

"I popped positive eleven years ago, Melly." He looked at me calmly. "I've been totally healthy, totally asymptomatic until this past March."

"I had no idea."

"I know. No one did, though. No one from home."

"No one?"

"Not even my mom, not until I got sick.

"Why?" I hadn't realized we were walking together towards 3rd until we reached the corner.

"I guess it was half disbelief and half defiance. Does that make sense?" I nodded, and he smiled. "I have to go, I'm meeting my mom at the Met. Give me your number and I'll call you."

"Absolutely," I said. I gave him my number and had him read it back to me to be sure. "Please call, Robbie. I would love to catch up."
"Of course," he said as we hugged again. I felt how skinny he was and suddenly felt very cold despite the warm July sun, and I started to cry a little. "It's alright, Melody. Really." He stroked my hair at my sniffling. I looked up and kissed the corner of his mouth softly.

"Call me, Robbie. I know it's been ages, but...call me. I am still your friend."

"I know. And I will."

"Alright." He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and hurried across the street. I watched him until he was lost in the sea of pedestrians, and crossed to the bus stop just as it arrived. I got in and quickly made my way towards the back, taking a seat on the aisle. It was almost 3PM, so the bus shouldn't get too crowded, but still I didn't want to chance being on the inside if it did fill. I hated that.

I thought about Robbie, the joy of seeing an old friend cut with the pain at his condition. I got a napkin out of my bag and wiped at my eyes. It was unfair – running in to Robbie was like getting a puppy you knew you couldn't keep, the happiness in your heart tinged with the knowledge that soon you it would be ripped from you forever. I sat on the bus and thought about college, about how we fell out of touch, kicking myself for not trying harder to keep our friendship going. I had gotten so disgusted with constantly having to hunt him down, the unreturned calls and unanswered letters, the time I was in San Francisco on business and he never even bothered to meet up with me. I think that was when I gave up on him.

The last time he was in town...10 years ago?...he called my parents' house, but I never returned his call. I figured he was bored and just needed an escape, and – to be honest – my feelings were still hurt. I saw his not meeting up with me as a rejection. I wonder if he would have told me had I called him back. I sighed, chalking it up to one more thing in my past I desperately wanted to undo.

I got off the bus a block before my stop. I needed some comfort, the kind of comfort a girl can only get from Ben and Jerry. I stopped at the QFC, picking up a pint of their finest chocolate as well as a package of double stuffed Oreos, microwave popcorn and a bag of barbeque chips. I toyed with the idea of getting some whipped cream, but figured the billion calories in my basket would get me through the night.

I walked up my block slowly, swinging my shopping bag at my side, still lost in thought. I turned up the walk to my building, getting out my key, when suddenly my left wrist was grabbed and I dropped my groceries. I turned to my left and found myself looking in to Malcolm's green eyes. They were narrowed, but opened wide when I looked at him fully.

"Malcolm?"

"You've been crying," he said softly, dropping my wrist and squatting down to pick up my groceries. He stood back up and looked at me intently, concern plainly written on his face, as I shook my head and shrugged at him. I didn't speak; I knew if I did I would cry and I didn't want to stand at my building's entry and cry in front of him.

He took the keys out of my right hand and opened the door, leading me with an arm around my shoulders. He pulled me to him slightly as we waited for the elevator, his hand caressing my shoulder, and kept up the reassuring contact in the elevator. He didn't ask questions or make small talk, he was just there. I turned and wrapped my arms around him, pressing my cheek to his chest and closing my eyes. Greedily enjoying the warmth of him, the smell of him, the feel of him. He stiffened slightly at first, and I thought he was going to push me away, but he didn't. Instead he tightened his arm around me and laid his cheek on my head. When the elevator opened he gently led me to my door, still holding on to me until he unlocked the door and followed me in.

I took the bag from him and made my way to the kitchen, putting the groceries away. Malcolm followed me in, taking his jacket off and hanging it over the back of the stool before taking a seat at the breakfast bar, watching me silently. I stopped when I was finished, looking at him, suddenly feeling at a loss.

It was odd, seeing him there. He was so seldom at my place.

"Why are you here?" I asked.

"I needed to see you."

"Oh." I looked around. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Vodka rocks."

"Alright." I got him his drink, looking over at him frequently, as if I wanted to make sure he was really there. I put it on the counter in front of him and watched as he took a sip. "Why?"