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We dressed, headed downstairs, and ate with the crew. All my morning-after friends reacted a little differently to our presence as a newly minted couple.
Teeg just grinned. She, believe it or not, has ethics too. Mostly regarding being a good friend, which means being a good wingwoman, which means not freaking out your friend's new squeeze. So she saved all her snarky comments for the rest of us and was nothing but nice to "Blondie." She really grinned hard though.
Melody fed us. Jenny, who has only acquired appreciable cooking skills while playing Sims games, effused mightily over the big full breakfast. It was probably the first home-cooked meal she'd had in ages and the easily flattered Melody kept patting "Sweetie" on the back and piling her plate with more sausage and hash browns and bacon. I thought my poor girl might explode, but Melody grinned pretty hard too.
Nic chattered away. She gushed to all of us - we're all called "Honey" - about her new alcohol supplier and their catalog of traditional Asian wines, beers, and liquors, including sake, arrack, ruou, lao-Lao, shochu, feni, sangsom, huangjiu, soju, baijiu, makgeolli, and -most importantly- lambanog, basi, and tapuy. Teeg made some crack about the selection being doubled. When I finger-flicked Teeg on the bicep in response, Nic grinned the hardest.
"That's nice, Teeg," Melody followed up with a more helpful verbal flicking, "It's nice when good things happen to your friends' businesses. You respond with congratulations, interest, or silence."
Teeg stuck her tongue out. I flicked her again. "Be nice, Purply," I referenced Teeg's current hair dye color and new - mildly annoying - habit of calling my dear girl "Blondie."
"Really, ya fucking ginger? You really wanna talk hair colors?" Teeg fired back, good-natured.
My mouth had already opened for a retort when my staunch little girlfriend beat me to it, "Better to be a ginger than a kool-aid head!"
Everybody grinned. Except Jenny, who looked mortified at her outburst.
"It's okay, Cuddles," I leaned over and whispered to her, "We rip on each other all the time. That was good." Then I turned to a still chortling Teeg. "You'd better watch your step now, Purply. My girlfriend'll kick your ass."
"Alright," Teeg put her hands up, "Since you've gotten a bodyguard, I'll lay off you. Good shot, Blondie."
My girl mumbled something and the rest of us brought the conversation forward to a loose plan for moving her in. Melody had seen the overnight stay after a boisterous game night coming and had brought boxes and tape in the back of her truck. That pretty much concluded the planning, since my girlfriend didn't exactly have a sprawling manor.
Nic, Melody, and I cleared the table and started cleaning up the kitchen and loading the dishwasher.
"You'd better be good to her, Kay," Melody warned me darkly as she put the skillet in the bottom rack, "If you pull some stupid shit and break her heart, we're keeping the sweet little nerdy girl and exiling your loud ass. I have Anne's proxy, so we'll have the numbers to vote you out."
Nic nodded in agreement, "You can have Teeg, though. She'll be like our version of a gold watch you get to keep when you're forced to retire." We all tease, but I'm not sure if Nic and Teeg honestly like one another.
I answered Melody's point instead, "I'll be good to her. I promise. Please don't exile me?"
"Consider yourself on probation," Melody laughed more lightheartedly as she filled the dish gel and closed the dishwasher door. "Now half the morning's wasted. We should probably get a move on?"
"Let's go," I affirmed.
We drove over to my girlfriend's micro apartment, enough cars between the lot of us to move her relatively modest worldly possessions in one trip.
Teeg, Nic, my girlfriend, and I had just deposited a batch of boxes in the back of Melody's truck and were walking back into the apartment building when a middle aged woman accosted her.
"Hey, blonde girl!" Her landlady, a portly and determined woman, hollered at her. "What do you think you're doing? You have a lease." She wasn't mean about it or anything, but she clearly voiced her immediate concern that a tenant was running out on her contract.
Jenny's nicely tanned face went white. Apparently, in her excitement at the prospect of moving, she forgot about the commitment she'd already made at her current location.
"Dearheart, go back up with Teeg and Nic. I'll take care of your lease." I nodded reassuringly to the landlady and followed her into her office. Elvis' "Kentucky Rain" played on her little portable radio.
"Look, this is an ironclad 24 month lease and she's only 2 months into it. Whatever slick explanation you have for why she's special and shouldn't pay the penalty, you can save it."
"How much is her rent?"
She quoted the price for the micro apartment, a miniscule fraction of my mortgage. I handed her an AmEx. "Put the remainder of the lease on this."
"Oh. Oh no." The landlady softened when she saw that I wouldn't try to weasel out of paying. "You only need to pay two months and any cleaning and refurbishment costs."
"Eh, I'll just pay it all off. Not a bad thing to have a spare place."
"Alright, um," she looked down at the card after swiping it. "Ms. Brooks. Would you like to transfer the lease to your name? Or at least add your name to it?"
"Naw. No reason to add to the paperwork." I took my leave and trotted upstairs to my girlfriend's apartment.
"Hey, Baby?" she greeted me and asked if everything was okay at the same time.
"Hey, Beautiful," I hugged her. "We're all good." Nic and Teeg were taping up a box and Melody was filling another with manga and comic books. (Yes, apparently there is a difference between the two and it's an etiquette breach to not recognize that difference.) There was really only one place for privacy. "Let's talk in the bathroom, Cutie."
"Something wrong?" We stepped into the tiny bathroom with her facing me. It kinda felt like I could induct her into the mile high club in there. I'd some stuff to talk to her about first though, and I didn't see her being comfortable getting in a quick one with my friends right outside anyway.
"No. I wanted to talk to you about what happened with your landlady." I put both my hands on her shoulders reassuringly. "You're still moving in with me and I still want you to stay forever. Nothing has changed in that respect. Okay?"
"Okay," she agreed hesitantly.
"But I want you to stay with me because it's what you want, not because you find yourself financially trapped. So I've paid this apartment off for the next 22 months and I think you should leave your furniture and some clothes here. That way, if you ever want, you're able to leave."
She teared up, starting liquid sniffles. I wrapped her in bear hug, trying to stem the emotion that I hadn't wanted to cause.
"Angel, it just gives me peace of mind to know you have a choice, that's all. I love you. You're not coming back here."
She nodded in my arms, but sniffed a few more times. I kissed her forehead and cheeks, then nuzzled the side of her face for a few minutes until I felt her smile. "Okay, Baby. But I'm not ever leaving. I'm going to be harder to get rid of than termites."
"I'm counting on it, Kitten." I kissed her forehead one more time and held her a little longer before I led her back into the apartment. "Hey guys, we're going to leave the furniture and dishes and stuff here, only need to take the personal stuff."
Nic looked quizzical and Melody nodded sagely, but Teeg spoke up, "Sweet. We'll have you moved out in like an hour, Blondie."
"Sounds good," Nic got onboard. "We can grab a late lunch at Cherry Girls on the way back."
We finished packing up the truck and rode over to Nic's bar. Orders of Buffalo Brie Bacon Burgers and Merry Mac and Cheese (a house specialty) were served all around, with Lumpia, Sriracha Sweet Potato Fries, and Aioli Asparagus Spears for the table. Cuddles on the Beach were set in front of each of us too, still too early for a proper drink for anyone.
Adrianne and her wife, Elle, met us there. They're close to a perfect couple. A psychiatrist with her own practice and a yoga instructor with her own studio who are loving, stable, and a joy to be around usually, but somewhat irritating when one finds oneself single or in a bad relationship. Since I found myself in a good relationship however, their company was entirely welcome.
"Elle?" I asked her a question as Jenny was distracted by Nic explaining the origins of her Merry Mac and Cheese recipe. "Do you have any beginner classes my girlfriend might take?"
Elle cocked an eyebrow, "Why are you so eager for her to take yoga?" I know it might seem a lech thing to want, but Jenny was already very flexible when we met and I'm reasonably ambivalent to her developing further muscle tone, so it wasn't sexually motivated. I'd read that yoga could be helpful for people with AS.
Adrianne set her hand on Elle's wrist and gave a nearly imperceptible shake of her head. Her wife's face immediately softened. I envied that ease of communication that they'd developed in their marriage, but they've been together for years. Jenny and I will get there.
Although Adrianne had effectively answered Elle's question, I realized a verbal answer from me was necessary to move the conversation along, "She has some trouble with focus and calm. She's shy and has an unusual work schedule, so I thought it'd be cool for her to have a set social hobby that didn't actually require much interaction with people off-topic."
"Okay," Elle nodded, "I have a Tuesday/Thursday 9 o'clock class that should work for that. What makes her work schedule unusual?"
"She works 12 hour days, seven days on and seven days off. Plus, her work weeks flip back and forth between dayshift and nightshift."
"Wow, Blondie, that sounds grueling," Teeg noted sympathetically as our conversations merged.
"A little," my girlfriend admitted, "But I really like having seven days off at a time every other week to delve into interests. And it's neat that the two different shifts provide enough variety to almost feel like two different jobs."
"Seven days off at a stretch sounds awesome," Nic agreed and then complained, "I haven't been able to take a full week off in forever."
Melody shook her head and laughed, "You work for yourself, Nic. Quit whining and take a fucking week off if you want one."
Working for the city, Melody also put in long hours and had little sympathy for what she considered a manufactured hardship for a small business owner. Since I have a partial ownership of the auto group I work for, I sympathize with fighting the guilt of devoting less than 100% of one's time to one's business, but have no desire to interfere with their good-natured headbutting.
"It's like that, huh?" Nic lifted Melody's carefully saved Merry Mac and Cheese to be bussed. "How 'bout I start by clearing your plate?"
"No, not my mac n' cheese!" Melody - like me - doesn't let her southern show very often, but it slips out now and again. "I withdraw the statement."
"I thought so," Nic set the plate back down. Melody instantly attacked the creamy, crumby, cheesy, yummy, savory pasta.
"Ha, ha," Teeg pointed around the table, realizing that she was the only one there with a true 9 to 5 job. "Suckers." No one disagreed, but no one laughed either.
Melody turned to Nic. "She gets to keep her Merry Mac and Cheese?"
Nic patted her hand. "She's not wrong, honey."
The table broke into laughter at that and suddenly Teeg was laughing with us and not at us.
So went our three or four hour lunch, after which we put the boxes in Adrianne's SUV and she and her wife helped us offload them into my girlfriend's room at my house. Before they left to enjoy their Sunday evening, they talked with us about the advantages of yoga and personally invited us to come on Tuesday to try it out. (I volunteered to take the day off and go with Jenny to her first class.)
"You can unpack all your stuff next week while I'm stuck at work and you're bumming around the house." I kissed her in our newly found privacy. "We have the place - our place - to ourselves. What do you wanna do for our first night living together?"
"Um..." she trailed off.
"Ooo," I kissed her again, "Is it dirty?"
"Not really," she giggled, "It's a little illegal though."
My mind raced. As usual, all the possibilities in my racing mind were dirty.
"You guys all had so much fun drinking last night. Can I try it?"
That was not what I expected her to want, but I was game. It begged the question though. "So you've never tried alcohol?" A 20 year old that hadn't ever drank seemed implausible.
"I never trusted anyone enough to drink with them when the opportunity arose?" she ashamedly confided in my arms. As American as any other adult and yet underaged woman, she was far more embarrassed at having to admit to never drinking than she would have been at admitting to breaking the law by drinking.
I mostly heard that she trusted me, which buoyed me in a way that I hadn't expected either.
"Well, tonight's a good night for it. You don't have to be back to work for a week and I think I can scare up a few girly drinks to get you started." I loosed her and kissed the back of her hand. "Miss Diana Barry, if you need someone to 'set you drunk,' I'll be your Anne Shirley."
"Who, Baby?"
"You haven't read Anne of Green Gables?" I made a mental note to introduce my girlfriend to the series of books that raised me, but not right then. "Nevermind for now. Just know that we're Team Diana and not Team Gilbert, okay?"
"Okay. You have 'girly' drinks?"
Taking her hand, I led her to the fridge and handed her one of the alcopops left over from game night, a Smirnoff Green Apple. I took a Coca-Cola for myself.
She scrutinized the drink as it caught the light, carefully untwisted the cap, sniffed it delicately, and took a tiny sip. "It tastes like a Jolly Rancher?!"
"Told you, Beautiful," I popped my soda. "'Girly' drink. Can't taste the alcohol."
She opened her throat and downed about half the bottle. So damned cute.
"Easy, Gorgeous," I admonished her, "We still don't know what your tolerance is and these are girly, but have double the alcohol content of regular beers."
She giggled and downed the other half of the bottle. I laughed with her.
"Fine, fine." I conceded. "Don't listen to the voice of experience. Learn for yourself." I took a sip of my coke and shook my head.
"They're yummy. Wanna play chess?" She opened a second bottle.
Again, unexpected, but, "Hell, yes, I wanna play chess."
While I got the chess set out, she brought her current drink, the last couple bottles of the green apple flavor, and a six pack of a lemonade flavor to the kitchen table.
While I bent over and set the opposing kings, my adventurous girlfriend slapped my ass, making me laugh aloud as I set up the rest of the pieces. She grinned without as much of the usual blushing as she took a seat opposite me.
The alcohol couldn't have hit her system yet, so her rapidly lowering inhibitions were clearly a placebo effect, but not necessarily a bad thing. Occasionally using drinking to give herself permission to let loose could be a good outlet for her, especially when safely at home alone with me.
She won the first game after we got down to her having a pawn-turned-queen and a rook left against me with only my king. By the second game, I was feeling pretty competitive and played hard, but still lost and by a still greater margin. She trounced me in the third game as well.
With even greater focus and notable luck, I finally won the fourth game early on with slick tricky bishop work. My pride in accomplishment was somewhat shot by her slurred congratulations.
"Cuteness, how many of these have you drank?" I'd become distracted by my competitive streak and hadn't given the attention I should have to her burgeoning career as a wino.
"Thiiisis one from the nexta pack." She pointed to the lemonade pack, missing only the one bottle.
"So, that's your fifth?" She'd drank four green apples and started a lemonade. I did the math. Four plus drinks in almost two hours for a girl weighing a buck ten was way too much, especially since she didn't drink regularly.
"Cha' yess. Chess! I don'ta like thiss kind dough. Not Jolly Rantchare."
I took the Mike's Hard whatever from her hand and tossed it. "You don't need to drink it then," I sighed. "Let's get you upstairs while climbing stairs is still in your range of capabilities."
"Okay!" She shot me the most sultry look I'd ever seen on her face and every part of me was pissed that I'd have to disappoint her in that respect.
As it turned out, independently climbing stairs had gotten beyond her, but she made it with the assistance of her arm over my shoulders. At the top, she started trying to kiss me.
"Let's get you undressed, Kiddo." I took her tee shirt off and groaned audibly at finding the deep teal demi-cup bra underneath it, especially with her still firing me drunken "fuck me" looks. I took a breath and pantsed her completely, not wanting to admire the matching panties that I couldn't enjoy removing. The delicious, expensive, textured, gorgeous bra came off her delectable breasts next with no greater fanfare.
Her leaden arms wrapped around my neck. My hands slid down her naked back. She was so willing. Hell, if we did have sex, she probably wouldn't even remember in the morning...
Damnit.
I walked her to the bed and laid her down on her side, petted her hair and kissed her cheek, and then got out my drunk kit (large bowl, aspirin, water, saltines, and Gatorade) and set it on her nightstand.
She must had thought I was getting out our toys for the night, because she didn't object until I sat down - still fully clothed - on an armchair and broke out my e-hookah to fume and fumar.
"Hey," she said at my silhouette, perturbed. That "hey" probably meant, "hey, why aren't you over here on the bed with me making me crazy?" Still, "hey" was all she articulated.
"Go to sleep, Kiddo. You've had a lot to drink."
"You're not...?"
"I'm not going to take advantage of you while you're drunk, no."
"Not t'king av'nage," she drunkenly disputed.
"My darling, I think you not being able to pronounce the word 'advantage' is a fairly clear sign that I'd be taking advantage." I tried to keep the bitterness from my voice as I exhaled thick clouds.
"But, I wanna."
"I know, Kiddo, but sometimes nice girls regret later the acts that they agree to when operating with a diminished capacity." I was standing firm. Doing the right thing. Toeing the line.
I blew out more smoke into a room already grown hazy.
"But, las' night, you were drungk?" she addressed my internal hypocrisy.
"That's different." It is different. I can't necessarily defend the difference intellectually, but it's different.
"wHow?"
"I'm not a nice girl, Kitten."
"Harrumph." She looked right at me with inebriated honey-golden brown eyes for a good six seconds. Then she sat up on the edge of the bed. "Maybe I'll t'ke ad-van-tage of you."
She was so beautiful and determined that I relented a little and broke my firm stance against fooling around while she was so intoxicated, figuring that she was close to never neverland and it couldn't be that bad as long as I remained passive and simply let her have her way with me.
"Come over here and take advantage of me then, Kitten." On those morally ambiguous grounds, I set my e-hookah aside and let my lovely tanked girlfriend try to ravish me.
The short walk from my bed to my chair was wobbly, but she managed to fall into straddling my lap. Then she proceeded to lay on me some of the worst and sloppiest kisses that I'd ever received, all tasting like green apple. I kept my hands on the small of her back and her shoulder blade to keep her from leaning too far and tumbling to the floor.
