“Sally, it’s me,” he said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“What time is it?”
“Nine forty-five.” He passed me the mug then sat on the edge of the mattress. He was wearing a gray T-shirt, blue shorts, ankle socks, and sneakers. The perfect golden hair on his perfect arms and legs was visible, and his face was kind and handsome. “I guessed at how much oat milk you put in, so if it’s wrong, we can start over.”
“I hope it’s okay I came in here. I just thought—” The words that a few hours before had seemed necessary—amorphous and open-ended, relationship, tryst—were eluding me. Instead, I felt very happy to see Noah, while also wondering if my eyes were visibly crusty or my lips were visibly scummy.
“Yeah, of course.” His voice was friendly and utterly unfazed. “It’s always weird sleeping in a new place for the first time. And I apologize that we didn’t get you more settled last night, but I guess we were distracted.” He smiled affably. “Your bags are all in the hall. I brought them in from the car. And your clothes are there.” He nodded to the left, and I saw that on the white armchair, in a tidy pile, were my folded jeans and folded bra. “I think your phone is in the pocket,” he said.
Where, I wondered, was my underwear?
Noah patted my calf beneath the coverlet. “My trainer is about to arrive. Remember Bobby, the one I don’t have three-hour workouts with? I’ll shower after that, then I thought we could hike or go have a picnic lunch at the beach if that sounds fun to you? Or we could hang out and swim.” He smiled and I felt a fizzy sort of scrambling, like the tide gathering itself to go back out: how attracted to him I was, how much I liked him, and how confusing it was to find myself at his house. “We can play it by ear today, but I’m really happy that you’re here.”
Would a person who wasn’t anxious and uncomfortable sit up and kiss him? But I hadn’t brushed my teeth since the gas station bathroom! Instead, I said, “Me, too.”
Noah’s hand remained on my calf, and he squeezed it. “Just text me if you need anything in the next hour. I’ll be in the yard by the studio.” Then he leaned in and kissed me on the mouth, and the kiss was so quick that it probably didn’t matter if I had scummy lips or not.
* * *
—
Good news I successfully pooped, I texted Viv. Also we had sex last night X 3 and it was great
Bad news is I have no idea what I’m doing here
It’s like 13 hours until bedtime
Seriously how do you get through a day with another person?
In the folded jeans on the chair, I’d found my phone in one front pocket and my underwear in the other, which was cringe-inducing but not as bad as if the underwear was still at large. Viv didn’t respond immediately, so I opened the door that Noah had closed when he’d left, peered out, saw no one, and pulled in my suitcase, backpack, purse, and the cardboard box with its two remaining protein bars, both of which I ate. I located and used my toothbrush then showered. After I emerged from the bathroom, a text from Viv was waiting: Day sex
Then: OK can we back up a second and savor SEX THREE TIMES WITH NOAH BREWSTER
AND THAT IT WAS GREAT
THAT’S THE ONLY GOOD THING THAT’S HAPPENED IN 2020
You can’t talk now can you?
I called her right away. “He’s outside with his trainer.”
In a singsong, Viv said, “Sally Milz got laid last night, doo dah, doo dah.”
“I’m kind of freaking out,” I said.
“Why?”
The answer was both so all-encompassing and so self-evident that it was oddly hard to articulate. After a few seconds, I said, “What if we run out of things to say? What if I fart in front of him?”
“If this is a real relationship, then those things will for sure happen. And then if you get pregnant, you’ll fart in front of him so much that both of you will only notice the rare moments when you’re not farting in front of him.”
“How many breakfasts and lunches have you eaten today?”
“I ordered kung pao shrimp for lunch, then I got horrible heartburn and now I’m drinking ginger tea, and I only have medium heartburn. You haven’t decided how long you’re staying, right? How long can you tell yourself you’ll be there without losing it?”
“From my perspective or his?”
“Since you’re not a mind reader, only yours.”
“Until, I don’t know—Thursday?” It was presently Monday, which sort of made staying until Thursday adhere to the rule of three.
“Great,” Viv said. “Tell yourself, but don’t tell him, that you’ll leave at noon on Thursday. And that after that you’ll never see him again. And just enjoy the hell out of yourself until then. Leave it all on the field. Is that the expression? I hate sports metaphors. But for once, don’t worry about the future. And for sure don’t worry what your butthole looks like when you’re doing it doggy style.”
“I bet my butthole is less cute than yours. Also, neither of us is drinking at all. I’m abstaining in solidarity.”
“Wow, that’s kind of beautiful. You can’t just lose your inhibitions in the fog of alcohol.”
“Will I never see him again after Thursday?”
Viv laughed. “Will my baby be born healthy and always stay safe from harm?”
“Fair enough. And I’m sorry about your heartburn.”
“Bianca didn’t get fired, by the way. They’re not firing anyone because of the pandy. But the girl from—what’s that improv team with the most annoying name ever?”
“You have to be more specific.”
“I can’t remember right now, but that’s who got hired. So you know how I said day sex? I wasn’t kidding. That really is the answer to how you get through the hours with this person you kind of do and kind of don’t know.”
“I’m excited that you’re about to bring a human into the world,” I said. “You and Theo are going to be such good parents.”
“We realized last night that the age he’ll be when our son graduates from high school is the age my dad will be three years from now.”
“Theo’s young at heart.”
“Hmm—young at heartburn—is that anything?”
“Young at fart?” I countered.
“Keep me posted.”
“Thank you, Vivvy,” I said. “And likewise.”
* * *
—
In the bathroom, I heard voices outside, and I discovered that if I raised the shade on the north-facing window, I could see Noah and his trainer. The trainer was visible from the back, and Noah was visible from the front, holding a silver kettlebell near his left shoulder then thrusting it straight up with both hands. I was fairly sure he couldn’t see me—no lights were on in the bathroom—and I watched for a few minutes. Sweat had made a messy column down the front of his gray T-shirt and also appeared in large patches when he lifted his arms, and again I felt a wave of attraction. He did some sit-ups, and I wondered if his body felt sore from sex, sore in a good way, like mine did. He went back to lifting the kettlebell, and, more because I didn’t want to be creepy than because I’d lost interest, I closed the shade. I then lay on the bed with the latest issue of The New Yorker and read the cartoon captions until my phone buzzed.