Love and Suction

I've never been a big fan of surprises. Call me crazy, but I like knowing what to expect in life. Even as a kid, I never handled them well; on my tenth birthday my parents threw me a surprise party, and I got so scared when everyone jumped out that I froze up like a deer in headlights and then pissed myself - yeah, that one wasn't my best moment. At fourteen, I learned the hard way that I don't do well with horror movies. All it took was one little jump scare, and before I knew it, I was running out of the theater, screaming.

Most of the time, I barely even like so-called "pleasant" surprises. I'd like to give whoever coined that term a piece of my mind - or, at the very least, write them a strongly worded letter. There are very few surprises in this world I'd even consider pleasant. In fact, if someone walked up to me right now with a beautifully wrapped present neatly tied up with a little bow, I would still find a way to stress out over it. What if I hate it, and I have to act like I don't? What if it's something I already have, and then I have to return it? What if it doesn't come with a gift receipt, and then it's a giant pain in the ass to return, and -- you know what, never mind. See? It's too much stress.

All of this is to say, I definitely go out of my way to avoid surprises, but of course, sooner or later, a surprise is bound to find you. All you can do is hope that it's a pleasant one. Sometimes, surprises can be a good thing; it's rare, but it happens. For example, the fact that I met my girlfriend Vivienne on a blind date that a couple mutual friends set up? That was a very pleasant surprise. We went to a nice restaurant and had an amazing time together despite the fact that I was an absolute mess, and, well, the rest is history. Fast forward almost two years, we're currently living together, and I'm finally about to ask her to marry me. I shoved my hand into my pocket to make sure the ring was there for what must have been the tenth time that afternoon.

I had been planning the proposal for weeks, and it goes without saying that my nerves were a mess. Vivienne had no idea it was coming; she didn't even know I was at home. She was over at her parents' house helping them deep-clean their floors using the vacuum from her work - she cleaned people's homes for a living. I didn't know exactly when she would be getting home, but I figured she would be home pretty soon - at least, I hoped she would be. Dinner would be ready before too long, and I was making Vivienne's favorite meal: roast with mashed potatoes and gravy.

I popped the oven open to check on the roast and was pleased to find that it was cooked perfectly. The tantalizing aroma that drifted from the oven made my mouth water. I spooned out some of the drippings and put them into a pan to start making some gravy to go with the mashed potatoes. Once that was done, I put the roast back in the oven so that it wouldn't get cold before adding some flour to the drippings in the pan. I stirred up the mixture before letting it simmer for a bit, hoping for the best; gravy was something I was never able to get quite right, no matter how many times I tried.

I turned my attention back to the mashed potatoes, which I had already started earlier. They were a bit lumpy since we didn't have a mixer, and I had to mash them by hand. Luckily, Viv never seemed to mind - she always said the lumps just added character to the potatoes. I added a bit of salt and pepper to the potatoes and gave them a taste. I smiled, satisfied with the results. At least if the gravy didn't turn out, the roast and mashed potatoes would still be edible.

The hazy orange sunlight of late afternoon streamed into the kitchen while I continued to work on the meal. I turned off the heat on the mashed potatoes so they wouldn't get scorched, then spooned a bit of the gravy out to test the consistency; it was still way too runny. I scowled as added more flour to the mixture and let it simmer for a bit longer.

Suddenly, my attention was drawn to the door as I heard the lock being turned. Vivienne was trying to get into the apartment, but she must have figured the door was locked since she wasn't expecting me to be home.

"It's open," I yelled, and then I heard the sound of the door opening behind me. I had my back to the door as I worked at the stove, and I heard Vivienne's voice call out in surprise.

"Noah?! What are you doing here?!" I heard her ask, clearly shocked. I smiled as I spun around dramatically and turned to face her.

"Surprise!" I yelled. Or at least, that's what I wanted to yell. What actually came out was "Supri—AAAAaaarrrggghhh!!" because I was not definitely not prepared for what I saw when I turned around.

Vivienne Hoover was, without a doubt, the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. She had gorgeous blonde hair, blue eyes that were impossible not to get lost in, and... well, I'm not going to wax poetic about her body, so I'll just say she had a great one and leave it at that. When I first saw her on our first date all that time ago, I could barely string together a coherent sentence. I'm still not sure why she agreed to go on a second date; it was one of those elusive pleasant surprises I was talking about earlier.

The sight I saw when I turned around? It was a surprise, for sure, but it was definitely not pleasant. It looked like Vivienne had literally rolled around in the dirt before walking through the door. It was everywhere: streaked across her face, staining her blonde hair, and clinging to every bit of skin not covered up by her clothing. I don't know what the hell had happened while she was cleaning at her parents' house, but it looked like she had brought most of the mess home with her. The weird thing was, her clothes were spotless, like she had taken them off to do the aforementioned dirt-rolling, though maybe she had changed into a fresh set before coming back to the apartment. I wondered why she wouldn't have at least showered first if that was the case, though. Regardless, seeing my girlfriend covered head-to-toe in dirt and dust was the last thing I had expected to see.

Hence, my enthusiastic reaction.

I told you I didn't like surprises.

"I-I thought you were at work," Vivienne said, her voice wavering and her eyes wide. She gingerly stepped into the apartment and shut the door behind her. Given that it was Friday, I would have been at work if I hadn't taken the day off to get everything ready for the proposal.

I worked at our local library, and I loved the job. Every book had its proper place, it was nice and quiet, and the best part was, there were no surprises... well, except for the one time a bird had found its way into the library and started frantically flying around, looking for the exit - that was not a good day. Now that I thought about it, I had to leave early then, too - I couldn't handle the stress.

"I, uh, wanted to surprise you," I said, rubbing a hand through my sandy brown hair as heat blazed in my cheeks.

"Well, mission accomplished," Vivienne said, her words shaky with nerves; something seemed off.

"Um, is everything okay, Viv?" I looked her up and down, and my brows were knitted with concern. "Did something, uh... happen while you were cleaning?" Viv's face suddenly went pale; I could see it even through all the dirt smeared across her skin. She looked around the room frantically, as if the answers were hidden somewhere in our apartment. "Vivienne, what's wrong?" She was acting really weird, and I was starting to become concerned. Her gaze flicked around a little longer until it finally landed on the trash can sitting next to the stove.

"The uh... bag broke on the work vacuum... when I was trying to dump it in the trash," she hastily piped up, as her gaze finally snapped back to me. "Everything spilled out all over me. It was a huge mess, and it took forever to clean back up." Suddenly, she stopped and started to sniff at the air. "Heeey... is that a roast I smell? It smells amazing, babe."

"Uh, yeah," I said, shooting her a weird look. "I've got mashed potatoes and gravy going, too. I'm just about done with everything." I chose to ignore the obvious redirection. I didn't really care so much about the mess; I just wanted to make sure she was okay. "Are you sure you're alright, Viv?"

"Yeah, I'm just a bit shaken up, is all," she said, flashing me a reassuring smile. "Anyway, I should really go get washed up." With that, she zipped off toward the hallway where the bathroom was. It wasn't long before I heard water running and music coming from the bathroom, and I smiled as the sound of Vivienne's enthusiastic singing began to mingle with the rest of the noise. She always played showtunes when she showered, and she always sang along. This time it was a song from "Oklahoma!" One time she dragged me to the theatre to see it. I fucking hated it, but she had absolutely loved it. She sang the songs from the show all the way home, just smiling away. I wasn't a fan of most musicals, but I always did love hearing Vivienne singing her heart out, no matter the song.

A little while later, Vivienne finally stepped out of the bathroom. I looked over at her to find she had one towel draped around her thin frame and another wrapped around her head. She looked beautiful as ever, and a lot more relaxed, which was nice to see.

"Feeling better?" I asked, smiling at her.

"Much," she said, as she sidled up to me. The weird vibe from earlier was gone, and she seemed a lot more comfortable. She flashed me a grin and glanced toward the stove. "So, this is what you've been doing all day instead of work, huh?" I nodded. "What exactly are you up to, Noah?"

"Oh, you know. I just wanted to... celebrate," I said nonchalantly, trying my best to stay cool. Vivienne studied me for a moment, trying to glean some kind of hint from me, but I didn't crack in the slightest -- I didn't want her catching on to me.

"Oooh, what are we celebrating?" she asked, her voice filled with conspiratorial glee.

"Oh, you know... us," I said, casually. Viv stared at me through narrowed eyes and smirked.

"Wait, hold on. Noah, you do know our anniversary isn't for another couple months, right?" she asked. I was well aware of that fact, and, I had thought about waiting until then to pop the question, but I honestly really couldn't wait that long.

"Yes!" I said, a bit defensively. "I just... love you, and I wanted to treat you tonight."

"Aww, I love you too. Well, if you want to treat me, I won't argue with that, babe," Vivienne said, as she wrapped her arms around me and pressed her lips against mine. We kissed each other for a few seconds, neither one of us daring to break apart from each other... until Vivienne's stomach grumbled loudly, causing her to chuckle. We both started laughing until Viv finally broke away from me. "Alright, alright; that's my cue to leave." The disappointment in her tone was palpable. "I'm going to go get dressed." With that, she slipped off into the bedroom, leaving me alone. I let out a deep breath and reached down into my pocket one last time, feeling reassured by the presence of the small box hidden there.

I sniffed the air and noticed a pungent, burning smell coming from the stove. I turned around and gasped, horrified to find that I had completely forgotten about the gravy in all of the commotion.                            

I wrenched the pan off the burner, sending up a silent prayer that it had turned out edible. It was the moment of truth, and I was almost too afraid to check. I tentatively dipped the spoon into the pool of gravy. Some of it was scorched on the bottom, and I scowled at the lumps swimming around in it. I groaned as I realized I had overcompensated and added too much flour to the drippings from the roast. I let out a huff and tried to stir the lumps away through sheer force of will, even though I knew it wouldn't do any good. A few lumps may have been okay in the potatoes, but the gravy sure didn't need any extra character. My frown deepened as I eyed the lumpy mess in the pot. I sighed and wondered whether I should just toss the gravy out altogether, but I figured that maybe some of it could be salvaged.

I cut the heat on the stovetop and got to work setting the table. I got our plates ready and brought them to the table along with the silverware. The roast and potatoes had turned out great, but I decided to pass on the gravy; I didn't want it to ruin the meal - there was too much at stake. Everything was almost ready to go by the time Viv came out of the bedroom; she was wearing the same outfit she had on when she had come home. She walked over to the table and sat down, and I took the seat across from her.

With that, we began to eat. Vivienne speared the roast with her fork, and it immediately fell apart. She looked across the table at me, looking a little confused.

"Didn't you say there was gravy, too?" She asked, throwing a glance over toward the stove. Her eyes fell on the pan sitting on the burner.

"It, uh... didn't turn out very good. I added a bit too much flour, so it got all lumpy-" I said sheepishly, as heat crept to my cheeks, "-and then I accidentally forgot about it, so it got a bit scorched. I'm sorry." Without a word, Viv stood up. I followed her with my eyes as she made her way over to the stove and looked in the pan. She stirred the gravy around a bit, then shrugged before bringing the pan over to the table.

"Looks fine to me," she said, nonchalantly. She dipped the spoon in and grabbed some, then stuck it in her mouth. She pulled the spoon out of her mouth and smiled at me. "Yup. Tastes good, too, babe." With that, she proceeded to spoon some out onto her roast and mashed potatoes.

"It's not too lumpy?" I asked. "I thought about tossing it out, honestly."

"Pfft. Not at all," she said, smiling sweetly as she took a bite of her mashed potatoes, "Thanks for cooking all of this, by the way." She wagged her hand toward the spread in front of us.

"No problem! I'm glad you like it," I said, taking a bite from my own plate. The meat was deliciously tender, and it tasted great. The potatoes had turned out well, too, and Vivienne didn't even mind the gravy. I breathed a sigh of relief and my thoughts drifted toward the ring in my pocket. I instinctively reached down but stopped myself just in time; Vivienne was watching, and I didn't want her to figure out something was up.

Vivienne's eyes flicked down to the carpet, and she grimaced. I followed her gaze and saw that Vivienne had tracked a ton of dirt into the apartment - I hadn't even noticed it; I was too focused on making sure dinner turned out alright - and I still managed to mess it up. The dirt never seemed to escape Vivienne's sights for long, though. I swear she had a sixth sense for that sort of thing; though I guess you had to, in her line of work.

"Yeah, looks like this place could use some vacuuming, too," she said, frowning. "I'll get on that when I get a chance."

"You know, if we had our own, I could take of care it," I said. "That way, you wouldn't have to worry about it." She frowned at me and shook her head.

"We've been over this, Noah," she said, coolly. I had brought it up before, but Vivienne was adamant that we didn't need to go out and buy a vacuum when she could use the one from her work. Oddly enough, she always handled the vacuuming on the days when she was off and I was at work... days like today. I contributed in other ways, like taking care of the cooking and dishes. I did my best to keep things tidy around the apartment but, despite my protests, Vivienne never let me help out with the vacuuming.

"Well, what about if we got a Roomba? Then neither of us would have to worry about it." Viv scoffed as she stabbed another hunk of meat with her fork.

"A Roomba, Noah? Really? I like to think I do a better job than that."

"You do a great job, Viv," I hastily replied, feeling a rush of heat blaze in my cheeks. "I'm just saying, it doesn't have to all be on you." Vivienne shook her head, her lips pressed in a thin line.

"Well, it sure isn't going to be on the Roomba," Viv replied, looking insulted. "I am not letting one of those things anywhere near this apartment."

"Why not?" I asked. "They're kind of cute! It'd be like having a dog."

"A dog?" Viv asked, her face screwing up into a grimace. "More like a drunken toddler! It'd be bonking into everything constantly, sucking up all sorts of stuff it shouldn't... No, thank you; I don't want to have to babysit a stupid little robot."

"Alright, alright. You've made your point. No Roombas," I said, trying to defuse the tension in the air. "But seriously, I want you to know that I can help out with the vacuuming, too, Viv." She stared at me for a second, seemingly considering my offer. It didn't matter in the end, though. She let out a sigh before she spoke up again.

"Thanks, but I really don't mind taking care of it, Noah," she replied. Her tone was gentle but firm, and it was clear that she had said all she was going to say on the matter. I didn't want to argue about it anymore, so I decided to let the issue rest for now. We continued to eat, but things were a little awkward as I tried to think of a way to bring the conversation back to lighter territory when I remembered that she had been at her parents' house all day.

"Oh, hey. How are your parents doing?" I asked, before taking a bite of my potatoes.

"They're... doing well," she said, the words hesitant. Her lips were pressed in a thin line as she stared across the table at me. "Actually, Noah, they... said they want us to come over for breakfast on Sunday," she said. The frown materialized on my face before I could stop it, and Vivienne threw me an apologetic glance. "I know you don't exactly love going over there."

"No, no. It's fine, Viv. I love your parents, it's just... it's always so damn hot over there," I said.

"Well, you know how my mom is," Viv said. The poor woman was chronically cold; Vivienne said it had something to do with poor circulation or something, but it seemed like her mom was always bundled up, even if it was warm out. That, and they always had the furnace on full blast, so the house was always sweltering.

"I know. It's fine," I said. "It's been a while since we paid them a visit, anyway. It'll be fun," I said, trying my best to stay optimistic. Vivienne shot me an apologetic smile as she absentmindedly pushed her food around on her plate, but I frowned when I saw her jaw working overtime; Viv had a habit of grinding her teeth when she was stressed. Chances are, she was about to say something she knew I really wouldn't be happy about. "What is it?" Vivienne let out a sigh before she answered.

"They want all of us to come over," she said, with a cautious frown.

"So, Zach." I said, as my earlier optimism shriveled up by the second. "And--"

"Yup. Kay, too," Vivienne deadpanned, her head bobbing up and down slowly. She knew I didn't care much for her sister. Viv's parents were great. Her brother Zach, I would have been able to deal with. He had a bit of a temper at times, but we had at least some stuff in common, and he was easy enough to get along with as long as I didn't accidentally piss him off. Kay, though? Completely different story. She was only a couple of years younger than Viv, and she never shut up. She would just talk and talk and talk, and it drove me crazy. As someone who enjoyed my peace and quiet, especially in the mornings, I was really not looking forward to the endless barrage of questions and mindless, vapid chatter. I don't know where the hell Kay got her energy from, but I swear, she was so high-strung she practically vibrated; I legitimately didn't think she was capable of sitting still. "It'll only be for a couple of hours, Noah. She likes you, you know."