To Quench Our Love Pt. 01

"Well, I'm a little thirsty and you must be parched after all that work."

"Sure."

"Water or juice?"

"I'm not sure what time it is, but I think it's a bit late for juice."

"Never the wrong time for juice. But two waters it is."

She got up and draped a robe around her, then used the bathroom and shuffled around the living areas. She came back with her contacts switched for glasses and two waters. She stated with some surprise, "It's 4:25."

"Wow. I didn't think it was that late." She handed me my water and sat "criss-cross applesauce" on her bed. I lifted myself a bit to drink.

"Me either," she agreed as she settled in.

"I feel like we got here pretty early. I mean, we ate really early."

"I dunno, one of my friends in college said she made out with her boyfriend all night right before they became official. Like she really insisted she looked at the time and stuff. But nothing like that's happened to me."

"Yeah same. I mean, we have a connection, but like, we also barely know each other."

"I dunno, but I feel like I know you. I do know you. You're like the person I always thought you were."

"So are you saying you liked me in high school?"

She smiled and looked down. "Big time."

"Same."

"Really?"

"Yes. But I also didn't. I was a weird kid."

She gave a short laugh and replied, "Then can I tell you something weird?"

"Yeah."

"I used to fantasize about going out with you, and then you'd comb your hair and wear nice clothes to impress me, and then you'd be my boyfriend and only then would everyone else see how hot you were but I was your girlfriend and they'd be jealous."

I laughed. "I'm sorry, I'm not laughing at you, it's just, like that could have happened if either of us had some guts."

"I guess so."

"I mean, except the everyone suddenly thinking I'm hot part."

"Sometimes I think all the girls knew you were good-looking. You were like off-limits conversation. We were talking about boys one time and one of my friends brought you up, and we all just kind of quietly demurred and changed the subject."

"Eh. Thanks?"

She laughed. "I mean, on the inside I was burning. My heart was pounding and I was like 'Stay away from my man! I saw him first!'"

"Wow, didn't know there was such a possessive side to you."

She shrugged. "I was young and hormonal and didn't understand my crush on you. And part of me just wanted to be on your arm to show up the pretty girls."

"Really? I don't see you wanting to show anyone up. Especially so-called pretty girls who weren't as pretty as you."

"I mean, high school. I got along with everyone, but I felt out of place. I was like not even five feet tall and suddenly these tits sprang up--" she swept her hands across her robed chest "--that are still too big for my height, and I got all this unwanted attention from pervs while the pretty girls had perfectly sized boobs for their bodies, and I hated this big Jewish nose, and I just wanted to get the hot guy to make all that better."

"Did people make fun of your for being Jewish? Are you Jewish? I didn't realize Meath and Lange are Jewish names."

"Lange," she said, pronouncing it Lang-ee, whereas I had left off the e, "is German and that's the Jewish side. I guess they didn't really make fun of me, so much as they would just make side remarks. 'I don't think this shade goes with your Jewish nose.' But it made me feel ugly. And the dumbest part is I hated having a Jewish nose, but the schnozz comes from the Meaths not the Langes."

"Polly, you of all people should never feel ugly."

"Thank you, I've learned that. But there's still that insecurity on the inside, and maybe that's why we had sex till past four, because I'm just so excited to finally be with the guy who I thought could make it better."

"Thanks?"

She laughed. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't question this. It's been amazing. I should just be grateful."

I put my water aside and slid further under the covers. "Question away, I don't mind." I held out my arm to invite her to cuddle.

She put her water and glasses onto the nightstand then moved toward me. "I'm afraid if we snuggle I'm going to want sex again."

"Is that such a bad thing?" I asked as she laid her head on my chest.

"We need sleep. Although this is quite nice." Her voice was trailing off.

"Four in the morning finally hitting you?" I asked.

She was now talking in a sleepy voice. "It's like I touched your body and everything just relaxed."

I kissed the top of her head. We fell asleep.

********

*******

Chapter 3: Whence Rivers Come, There They Return

I awoke to Polly shifting out of the same position we had fallen asleep in. I guessed the time was around seven by the light. "Tired?" she asked when she noticed my eyes open. She had rolled over onto her pillow.

"Don't think so."

"Me either." She paused then asked, "Can I ask you something personal?"

"Of course." I turned toward her.

"You don't talk much during sex."

I chuckled. "It's weird because I usually do but I hate it."

She looked downwards pensively. "So you thought you'd try not talking with me?"

"Not really. I just didn't feel the need for some reason. I felt like you, I dunno, like you were going to accept me. And it seemed like you enjoyed what we did, so I didn't stop. Or start."

She smiled at me and just gazed as I recovered from my word jumble. Then she said, "You know what's weird?"

"Hmm?"

"I usually need the guy to talk. But for some reason I didn't last night."

"I usually talk because I assume the girl needs it."

She quietly smiled at me again before asking, "Am I reading too much into this?"

"Good sex is just that, nothing more."

"It's like, I know that, but I also, like, this is the first time I've had good sex, I think. And I'm trying to tell myself to just let it be, but like every part of me just - I can't explain it - wants to do something stupid."

I thought for a second then asked, "Should we get a breakfast so you can process a little?"

She looked up, this time with a false look of pensiveness. "That sounds nice," she said, dragging out the last word. "But I think first we should try something else that doesn't require leaving the bed."

And with that comment, we made love a fourth time, though not for nearly as long as overnight. Before we got up, I offered to take her out to breakfast, but Polly wisely observed that it'd be more relaxing to just stay in. Instead she cut some fruit and offered me yogurt or oatmeal or Cheerios, but I only took fruit. I hadn't had a persimmon in years so I had two more after we finished the cut fruit; Polly commented that eating seasonally made vegetarianism easier so that she wouldn't get tired of anything.

While we ate, she asked if I had any plans for the extra day off or the long weekend. "None, literally none," I responded.

"So what would you be doing today?" she asked.

"Trying to figure out what to do with myself. I feel like a dork saying that, but it's true."

"You're not a dork, you just moved."

"I know, but I'm supposed to act all cool and organized around a lady."

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "All of that stuff is silly," she commented. "Three day rules, when to text, when to call, I mean, I wish people would just be themselves."

"Which is why I fessed up."

"But you also confess you do them."

"Yeah, but I haven't with you. I'm still in shock this all happened."

"I know, I don't know if I'm ever going to get over this."

"I'm not. But now I don't want to mess up."

"Same."

"So what were you going to do this weekend?" I asked.

"Take Tumble for a hike today. Hadn't thought much about the rest of the weekend, probably just reading and Christmas shopping."

"No Hanukah shopping?"

"Nah, we don't really do that since I went to college."

"Do you hike a lot?"

"I try. As much as I love Tumble, he's not always enough company and I can't always find a buddy."

"Well I think you have one sitting at your table."

She gave a short laugh. "You like hiking?" she asked.

"Yeah. I think so. I did it a lot in high school, and then I started again a little after college but it wasn't the same."

"So it's not too hippie."

"Hey I'm being straight up here," I protested in faux defensiveness. "Don't start making accusations." Part of me wanted her to notice that I was admitting to maybe not liking hiking, as opposed to saying what she wanted to hear. To me, that honesty was important because I was used to putting on a show, and not doing so was an indicator of how meaningful this budding relationship was. I was oblivious to the irony of trying to nudge her toward how great it was that I wasn't using lines. She was on a different path anyway.

"I just have to make sure," she slowly explained with her own exaggerated demeanor, "that now that we've, you know, been intimate, and now that we're making a plan together, you, you know, don't think I'm a hippie."

"What if I think that's a good thing?"

"Then I'll give you a chance."

She drove me to my house and waited with the dog in the car while I put on hiking-appropriate clothes, changed out my very dry contact lenses, and fed my cat. We had a great day. Well, I had a great day. She seemed to as well but I couldn't tell you why. From my side, she was funny and energetic and really was the do-gooder that I once thought was an act. She was everything I felt I should be but wasn't. When I thought about the day later on, I felt like Mary Magdalene wondering why Jesus would bother to even pay attention to me. But during the moment, I had fun. I was effortlessly focused on the scenery, the excitable dog, and most of all the beautiful woman who had somehow chosen to spend time with me. There was the insecurity hypothesis she had posed in the morning, but she acted so mature, so even-keeled that I had to believe that she had overcome every youthful demon.

We hiked for perhaps a bit too long and returned to her car famished. "Are you starving like I am?" I asked after she got Tumble into the car.

"Not quite starving, but I am damn hungry," she replied. I wondered if the "not starving" was one of those do-gooder things as we got ourselves into her car.

"I have this thing where I really like a burger after exercise. I'd like to take you out for one but I know you don't eat them."

"I can find stuff anywhere, but I know a place that has good vegetarian stuff and apparently good burgers."

"That sounds like you taking me out."

"I don't have a problem if you don't have a problem."

"No problem, I'm just impressed by your..." I searched for the word, "confidence, I guess."

She stopped the car but left her hands on the steering wheel; we were still quite a ways from main roads. "Can I tell you something?" she asked, hands on the wheel but turning towards me.

"Yeah."

"I'm so nervous. I have no confidence. And I'm really scared I'm trying too hard."

"Yeah, but see this is what I don't get about you, Polly. Nervous girls say, 'Oh I'll just find something,' or 'It's OK, we can do something another time.' You throw out a solution like it's the most casual time ever."

"I guess, I mean, what's to get?"

"You! You seem to think you're completely average when you're decidedly not. Why?"

"Is that a fancy version of that 'not like other girls' line? Because someday we'll do away with that."

"It's not a line. I've used a lot of lines over the years but not with you. And yet somehow, we've gone from zero to a hundred in less than a day."

"I guess," she faced forward and dropped her hands to her side, "I really try to communicate clearly. In everything. And honestly, when it comes to dating, going slow and being passive hasn't worked for me." She turned back toward me. "I like to be romanced as much as the next girl, but guys I like have disappeared, I've ended up staying with guys who aren't right, and so mid-twenties Polly relationships are either going to crash and burn or be spectacular. Mostly crash and burn so far."

"Can I say something crass?" I asked.

She gave me a look then said "Go on."

"I don't know if I have the balls to date you."

She shook her head with a laugh and started to drive. "I've seen your balls and they're just fine. But we can arrange for some extra care if they need it."

"I'm really going to have to learn how to keep up with you."

She drove. I could see her smiling. I couldn't help but smile too. We eventually resumed casual conversation and had a nice lunch, outdoors to accommodate Tumble even though the sunny weather was slightly too cold. I was tempted to try the vegetarian burger Polly had but couldn't bring myself to take the risk. I told her how getting Fang when I got my first apartment had made me want to go vegetarian, but I never really had the guts to give up meat. He was my second cat; my first had died right before middle school. She had had dogs her whole life, so getting Tumble was an obvious choice for her, unlike how getting Fang was a momentous decision for me. She had been a vegetarian almost as long as she had had dogs, to the point that she barely remembered what went into the decision. No one in her family joined her but they reduced their meat consumption. Nonetheless, she often found herself with a separate meal when she was a kid. Once in a while someone would share the separate meal, usually her dad.

We agreed to part after lunch, but before we had pulled away from the restaurant I asked her if she wanted to do a longer hike Sunday. Pack a lunch and eat more than fruit for breakfast. She agreed with enthusiasm, so I spent Saturday trying to figure out some vegetarian things for the lunch we had agreed to split. She insisted on driving since she knew the trails of the area, and got to my house promptly at 10 AM.

We hiked. We ate lunch and climbed a tall hill to play with Tumble. Tumble got tired and we sat on the hill enjoying the sights and hoping the tall grass wouldn't itch later. We kissed. We laid back and held hands while we looked at the cloudless sky. We kissed more. We played with Tumble more, who stayed true to his name and rolled down the hill. Polly dared me to roll after him and somersaulted after me when I did. We watched the shadows grow long and the light go from bright to bluish grey to deep blue. We laid on another hill holding hands until Polly jumped up with a "Dammit!" as she remembered her roommates were waiting for her at the airport. So I met her roommates. Lauren said she had heard so much about me. I was surprised that could be said about a three-day relationship; Polly was unfazed. We had dinner with her roommates, Taco Bell at their dining room table because everyone was tired. Lauren taunted Polly about me and Polly acted like she didn't care. She told me in the car back to my place that she'd learned not to play into Lauren's games. They were Lauren's annoying way of showing affection. I invited her in. She agreed. We made love late into the night, only stopping ourselves so we could manage at work the next day. Despite the late night, everyone at work would seem more tolerable.

The next few weeks were hardly different from the first few days. On Monday around lunch, Polly texted that she wanted to make me dinner that evening, which she did, and so Tuesday morning I texted that I wanted to return the favor but needed a day to figure out what I would make. So Wednesday I made her dinner and asked to take her on a proper date in the Gaslamp, which she effortlessly agreed to.

That Friday night, we had a nice dinner in the Gaslamp for our first traditional date. When we left the restaurant, I told her that I was a terrible date planner so I had researched a few other things we could do after dinner, but all I really wanted to do was walk with her by the water and get the chance to kiss her goodnight. She teased me that we were well past just a kiss goodnight and I just shrugged as we quietly walked hand-in-hand. Eventually she slipped an arm around my waist and I pulled her in close to me. After a few paces, she spoke up. "I have a confession to make."

"What's that?" I asked.

"I walked Tumble by your house every day after I saw you two weeks ago."

"Really. Do you always walk him that far?"

"Only on weekends. That's why it's a confession."

"Well can I confess something too?"

"You better."

"I kind of was in my front yard hoping you would walk by on Thanksgiving." It was a confession that I didn't really want to admit even to myself. But it was true. Redoing my front yard was the excuse I gave myself.

"That's not a confession," she quipped, looking up at me with a smile. I looked back down at her as we continued walking and she explained, "Even Tumble could tell what you were doing."

"Oh so Tumble turned me in?"

"That's right."

"I'm going to have to talk to him about guy code."

"Won't work. I'm Tumble's number one, even if he knows I'm falling for you."

I stopped walking and held her tighter. "You mean that?" I asked.

"Yes." Her voice was calmer. "But don't worry. You can go at your pace, but I'm not going to stop myself from mine."

"I'm not. I think I started falling in the same moment I decided not to ask you out ten years ago."

"You're a strange character, Jack Deblose," she said, putting her other arm around me.

"Jack is a nickname for John," I reminded her.

"John Deblose. No, still strange."

"Well maybe that explains our connection," I suggested, referring to my contradictory comment. She seemed to take that as a reply to the strangeness and responded with a fake look of shock, but still unable to hide that she was smiling underneath. I continued, "But is telling me that after eight days part of this whole Polly's gonna crash and burn thing?"

"Or be spectacular."

"So is it?"

"I've taken things slow before. By the time going slow is done, all I'm left with is wishing we had the moments I tamped down. And then things get boring. So yes, I'm being direct, and maybe that means moving too fast, but even if we crash and burn, we've already been spectacular."

"I don't want to crash and burn."

"I don't think we will."

"Good. Let's walk."

She kissed my cheek and dropped her arms to hold my hand. All we did the rest of the evening was walk around the waterfront, alternating comforting silence with light conversation as we enjoyed the cool night. Despite her roommates, we went back to her place so that we could go on another long hiking day the following morning. It was a silly plan because we had to stop by at my place before going to feed Fang anyway.

We couldn't get enough of each other. We grudgingly parted Sunday afternoon to get ourselves in order for the week, a week where we spent every evening but Wednesday at one of our houses. And then a similar weekend to the last, a fancy date and a hiking day, and another week with most nights together. I learned that Polly wasn't just who I once thought she pretended to be - she was so much more. She was attuned to simple things like bringing toys for Fang and running around the house with him, but also very cognizant of major things like being a strong advocate for justice. Though she was careful to pay attention to the ills of the world, she made a point of not letting them consume her, compartmentalizing her work, leisure, and "responsibilities as a citizen of Earth" as she said. She had a large circle of friends that kept her phone buzzing, but she never checked those buzzes when we were together. Unless her parents were calling. I learned why she always said "My parents," plural, "are my best friend," singular. They always called her together, sometimes from the same phone, sometimes from different receivers on the landline, and sometimes even cell phone conferences (and this was before the days those were easy). She always got off the phone quickly when we were together, but they were clearly extremely close. She told me that any other couple like them would make her sick, but because they were her parents and her best friend, she loved their cheesiness.