He feels like he's been at war with Rambo. His head hurts like a beast. And his mouth tastes full of used kitty litter, not that he knows what it tastes like. But Dutch does. Poor, dumb, drunken Dutch. Everything feels like a shit sandwich. Plus he's naked. How the hell did he get naked? The only thing he can remember is going downstairs and eating and drinking... a lot. A whole lot of whiskey, which he never drinks. It's clear to him now, this very reason is why he never drinks the strong stuff.
Prying his eyes open, which is hard, he saw Ava and began to cry. The alcohol-induced happiness he borrowed has worn off. Now his life is back to shit. And it hurts. He turned his face away from her and wept. How can she love the mess he is?
In the blink of an eye, Ava got up and discreetly put the wedding band in her purse. The whole time thinking, oh no! I've broken him. He must have realized she took his ring and is now disgusted with her. So disgusted it's brought him to tears. She needs to explain. Coming back over to the bed, she sat on its edge. "Johnny," she said with a quiet voice. If his head feels like hers, then quiet is a good thing. She softly spoke his name again.
He muttered something unintelligible. Going around to the other side of the bed, where he's looking, she sat down. Trying to turn away, she wouldn't let him. "Johnny I know why you're crying."
Of course, she'd know why. She always knows everything about him. "Yeah, cause I suck at life. At everything." He closed his eyes so she can't see him.
Wait! That's why he's upset? He's back to negative self-talk and feeling down on himself. A weight lifted off her tiny shoulders. This just won't do. "Honey, Johnny. You're amazing. Look at all of what you've accomplished this year alone." She saw him open his eyes. "First you finally broke out of an unstable relationship, over the summer. Then you got brave and talked to me again. You asked me out, opened your heart up, gave me this promise bracelet." Her mind wandered. Is it a promise bracelet anymore? It's more like the real thing now.
She took a breath and continued recalling all of his worthy accomplishments. "You made all A's in math and English literature. You're rebuilding that car in shop class, from the ground up. That's something not many people can do. You helped the soccer team score victory after victory. And the greatest thing of all, you scored thirteen hundred on your SATs. That's all impressive! Just look at all of the potential swirling around in your brain and capable heart. Look at all of the impossible things you made possible." She took his warm hand in hers.
With a light squeeze of his hand, and a glance into his expectant eyes, she continued talking. "Don't let this tournament and your horrible sensei beat you down. You're more than that. I will tell you so every day if I need to. I'll remind you of this until you get sick of it and it becomes a part of you. You're going to own your own dojo one day, not because of how many karate trophies you've won, but because of your never quitting attitude. By the skin of your teeth and the sweat of your brow, you will make it happen." She leaned down and kissed his hand. Then kissed him to punctuate her statement.
They got so into the kiss, that it was hard to stop. Part of Ava wanted to tell him to keep going. He's her husband, they can do that now. But he pulled away. "I'm naked under here," he told her. Yep. She knows. She saw it all last night and remembers everything little thing, in vivid detail. But does he remember?
Staring at her, he asked, "How did I get naked?" He must have been really drunk.
Oh gosh. What does she tell him? The truth. She had planned to speak the truth and she will. Opening her mouth, he cut her off. "I was really drunk out of my mind, wasn't I? I'm pretty sure I got naked and passed out. I just hope I didn't do anything really crazy, like the last time I got drunk. The last time I got drunk I sang the Piña colada song, at the top of my lungs like a pussy, to Jimmy's mom. To this day she still gives me weird looks, so does his dad."
Does he not remember? Testing the waters, she laced his fingers with her own. "What do you remember about last night?" If he doesn't remember anything, then that's wonderful! It will buy them time for Christmas and allow her to come up with a solid plan, for their future.
Running his free hand through his hair, he responded. "Well, not much. I know we ate at the bar downstairs. And I drank. A lot. But other than that, I don't remember much. It seems to happen that way when I drink strong stuff. Eventually, my memories will come back. It takes a while, but they always do. Was I super embarrassing? I'm sorry if I was."
His face looked one part shy and one part sheepish. In order to help alleviate some of his concern, she told him "I can honestly say you weren't embarrassing." That's the truth. He wasn't.
Then he wondered about his state of dress (or lack thereof). "I didn't try anything did I? I'm naked and I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable."
Yeah, about that... she can also honestly say "You didn't try anything. And I wasn't uncomfortable, at all. At any time, awake or asleep." Super true. Memories of their intense, ardent night together flooded back to the forefront of her mind. Her pulse sped up and she had to look away before she did something impulsive. When she did so, her head hurt. Lying back on the pillow felt better. "I drank too. And I never drink. I don't feel very good."
That's surprising to hear. Concerned, he brought his hand to her face and caressed it. He would love to make out with her, but he might vomit at any moment. The room began to spin. "I think it's safe to say we're not leaving this room today." He rolled over and brought his arm over his eyes.
Agreeing with his words, she admitted "Yeah, but we need food. And I really, really want clean clothes. I feel dirty in these things. I think in a few, I'm going downstairs and raiding some boutiques," she told him. Yes. That's what she'll do. Go downstairs, buy a new outfit and underwear (cause she noticed a sale on them as they passed by last night), then take a shower. A long hot shower.
Taking his arm off his face, he took her hand. "But Babe, you look good in my shirt." A huge, full smile sat on his face.
After a good hour of laying in bed, now clothed with her shoes off on top of it, she willed herself to get up. Putting her boots on, and putting her now deflated hair into a messy bun, she questioned "What do you want for breakfast? I'm going to put in a room service order before I leave."
He told her "Eggs, bacon, sausage, biscuit, orange juice." Picking up the phone, and dialing room service, she placed the order. Gingerly she stood and sat back down. Johnny noticed and stated, with a tender voice, "Babe, I don't think you should go. You don't seem OK. Plus you've never been hungover before. Do you think you could place a clothes order with the front desk?"
But she enjoys browsing the racks. Plus having someone choose underwear for her is just weird. "I think I'll be fine once I actually get going. If I start feeling terrible I'll come back." Sensing his worry, she added, "I promise."
Sitting up, the sheet slid down his chest. He was quick to make sure his bottom half was covered. Heat rose to her cheeks. She couldn't help but check him out. It's so unfair that someone should look that toned and chiseled. And the best part is she gets to look at it the rest of her life. Once she figures out where they're going to live and tells him the whole story.
Staring at her, he spoke. "While you're gone I'm taking a shower. Will you put my bag on the bed, please?"
She nodded and bent over to get it off the floor. Whoa! Head rush! Trying to seem OK when you're not is difficult. But she really doesn't want to worry him. However, she's a terrible actress. While she had gotten the bag, he had gotten his boxers. Now sitting on the edge of the bed in only his red plaid boxers, he beckoned her to come using his finger. She sat and he put his legs around her and massaged her neck and shoulders. Who knew he has magic fingers?!
Once the impromptu massage was finished, she finally made her way (stubbornly and slowly) downstairs. Thank goodness for elevators, otherwise she wouldn't have made it. On the ground floor, a beeline was made to the resort shops. At Idyll, she saw the underwear sale sign. Inside are all kinds of undergarments from skimpy, to fully covered, to barely there, to nearly nude, to is that even considered coverage.
Picking up a nearly nude piece, which is so see-through even a blind man could get turned on, she mistakenly said out loud "Who would wear this and for what purpose?" Her nose scrunched up at it. As she went to hang the wretched thing back, an uppity sales girl came over.
"That is the finest in luxury craftsmanship. It's direct from Paris. Plenty of women buy it and other things like it." She motioned with her bony hand to other items. "Women wear that for one purpose. Men like it." Turning her nose up, the sales lady said "But you're too young and wouldn't understand."
Oh, she understands just fine, especially after last night. The thought of Johnny even laying eyes on her in something like this made her heart beat faster. She could never. Having placed the lingerie back on the rack, she went to look at the real reason she entered the store. The sale says six pairs for twenty-five. A fair deal, Ava picked out six pairs of cute underwear. Pink with flowers, black with dots, red with lace, another pink with lace, navy with lace, and purple with dots. These will do.
While Ava was buying essentials, Johnny took a nice long shower. Those always help with hangovers. His aching muscles relaxed as the water hit him just right. It was then he had a flash of something in his mind. It was he and Ava together, like really together. It was hot and it made him hot, despite the blistering temperature of the water. It seemed like a dream but better, much, much better. The hot water carried him and his dirty imagination away.
After his shower, he put on his jeans and held his white T-shirt in his hands. The same one she had taken off before going downstairs. It smells like her. Bringing it up to his nose, he inhaled her scent, her memory, her life, her. Every day he gets closer and closer to proposing. The only thing stopping him is the want for them to be settled first. He wants to know where they're going to college, figure out where they'll live, and then he'll ask.
But it's her. She's his girl. The one he loves. The one his heart chose before he even had a chance. The one who brings joy and light to his gloomy life. The one he wants to spend all of his years with. The one, she's the one.
Finishing in the bathroom, he went to lay on the bed again. But then he saw something.
When she walked into the room, holding her packages, she saw Johnny reclining on the bed, arms behind his head. "Hey, I got you this T-shirt." She held up the shirt. It says I'm All In with a picture of a deck of cards, and underneath is the word Vegas. "Isn't it great?" She saw a half-hearted smile sweep across his face.
Putting the shirt and bags down, she joined him on the bed. "Hey Hot Shot, what's wrong?" She took his hand.
Shaking her hand off of his, he stared at her. "Why didn't you tell me?" He continued looking at her.
Oh gosh! Oh gosh! He knows... "I... I..." she stuttered. "I didn't.." Tears formed in her eyes.
"Babe, why didn't you tell me you brought my Cobra jacket in with us," he exclaimed. His arm reached behind his pillow and grabbed the red jacket. His eyes filled with disgust.
With a tentative smile and huge exhalation of pent-up breath, she admitted "I thought you might want it. It was chilly out, so I took it from the car. I didn't think it would be a problem."
Not thinking, and in a swift move, he sent the jacket flying across the room. "Bullshit. I hate it and I don't want to look at it." He rolled onto his side.
She doesn't think that's true. He's still reeling from the loss coupled with the choke from his despicable Sensei. Laying down beside him, she resumed her favorite position. The one where she holds him and comforts him.
Rolling back over, he inquired "I'm a mess. Why are you still with me? I have emotional scars, so deep."
Her other favorite position is the one where she brushes the hair off his forehead. "We all bear scars. I just hide mine better. Your scars are beautiful John. They're your battle wounds. They're a reminder of what you've been through and how strong you are for coming out of it. You'll get through this too and I'll be here with you, every step of the way."
His eyes looked into hers, "Yeah?"
"Yeah." She nodded. "I'm not just giving lip service. I mean it. I'm with you. Remember your scars are a part of you. And I love every part of you, even those." Then she did what she did yesterday. She placed a kiss on his heart and on his forehead, for his mind.
He has no idea why but a song popped into his head, a really cheesy song. "I have a crappy voice but..." His sultry, smooth voice sang to her. "I see so many ways that I can love you, til the day I die. You're my reality, yet I'm lost in a dream. You're the first, the last, my everything."
Her heart picked up speed at his singing. There's just something about his voice. It does things to her. Falling for him wasn't falling at all. It was like walking into a house and knowing you're home. She set out to make him feel it, feel home. Her lips were on his in an instant. In their kiss, they're home and their chemistry is a flame of fire. In their kiss is unspoken promises of years and hopes and dreams and the patience of waiting for real love.
His mouth is as hungry as her own. His hands slipped down to the smooth curve of her sides, to rest on her hips as he drew her in. His heart was beating so wildly he could only take little sips of breath. She tastes like spice and smells like sweetness and everything that feels like home.
Everything he's ever wanted is with her. He placed little kisses on her neck, her cheeks, her eyelids, her nose, everywhere his lips could touch he kissed. His hands stroked her back, her perfect back. And then looking into her eyes, those hazel eyes he loves so much, those hazel eyes that hold their secrets, he broke.
The pieces of his heart he's been holding onto. The ones he's kept hidden. He let go and gave them to her. He gave her everything right then and there. He placed it all in her capable, loving hands and hoped to God what little bit of him he has left would be safe.
Pulling her to sit on his legs, he locked eyes with her. His hands reached up and brushed her bouncy brown hair off her shoulder. Then he laced both of their hands together. With a soft voice and softer words, he spoke. "You're home to me. For once, I love coming home."
**Author's Note**
Johnny's song is Barry White's The First, The Last, My Everything.
Happy Thanksgiving!