A Weeend in the Country

hey how was thailand? bang any ladyboys?

The text from Riley, having arrived sometime during John's long jetlag-induced nap, was certainly a surprise, but not an unpleasant one.

Fantastic. I think I can now competently ask where the toilet is in Thai. Maybe if I ever go again I will learn how to order something at a restaurant

The reply came back quickly:

planning on going again already?

John put his phone down on the floor beside the couch and stretched.

No plans of any sort at the moment. Seeing where life takes me.

He swung his legs off the edge of the couch and took a look around the room.

Is it afternoon already?

he thought.

Too late for coffee, maybe, if I ever want to get back on American time.

His phone buzzed with a new message.

cool, then you are free for coffee?

Well, that answers that,

he decided. He texted back

You sure that's a good idea?

The reply again came quickly.

just coffee.

with a friend

This was followed quickly by a link to a nearby cafe's location and

meet you in an hour or so?

John sighed, unsure whether it was wise, but finding, to his surprise, that he was sure he could handle it, regardless of whether Riley's "just coffee" was genuine or not. He texted back

sure

and began getting ready. For what, exactly, he didn't know, but ready.

...

He found Riley, looking beautiful as ever in a tight fitting red top and equally tight jeans, sitting by herself with two cups of coffee in front of her at a table by the broad windows of the cafe waiting for him. She had waved when he came in the door, and he joined her. She stood as he approached and she greeted him with a hug that probably went on too long, though he didn't mind.

"I got you black coffee," she said as they sat down. "I seem to recall that's how you like it."

"Thanks," he said, "you recall correctly. Sorry if I kept you waiting."

"Oh, no," Riley waved off the apology. "I really just sat down."

They both just sat there for a few seconds, apparently neither sure what to say first, and then simultaneously began "So..." before stopping and smiling.

"You first," she said.

"Um, so, what's up? I was kind of surprised to hear from you. I mean, good surprised, but surprised. How did you even know I got back, or that I was gone, anyway?" As he spoke, he couldn't help noticing the way she turned the cup of coffee in her hands, slowly rotating it while watching him.

"Oh, uh, your girlfriend, I mean, your ex, I mean Carrie, anyway," Riley said. "She told me a little while ago about your trip. Sounded like she was expecting a souvenir, by the way." Her eyes, pretty as ever, moved as she spoke, first down to her hands and then back up to John before they moved back down again.

"Ah," he said, "that makes sense. Sorry I didn't tell you myself, I just kind of thought, you know, with how things ended... Anyway, yes, there's a souvenir for her."

"Yeah, no, it's fine. I mean, obviously..." She turned her attention to the street outside, or, rather, John imagined, something much further away.

"I have a souvenir for you too," he said as she trailed off.

"Really?" Riley seemed genuinely surprised, turning her face suddenly back to him.

"Yeah. I wasn't sure if I would see you, but 'hope springs eternal' and all that," John answered. He fished a t-shirt out of the bag he had over his shoulder. "Here you go," he said, passing it to her, "Hopefully it fits. I just guessed at the size."

It was black, with Thai writing on it. Riley held it up and inspected it. "Thank you. What does it say?"

"Oh, I have no idea, really. The guy who sold it to me said it was something about ladyboys. I thought you would appreciate it."

"I hope it's filthy," Riley smiled. "I'll just tell anyone who asks that it says 'I fucked a ladyboy in Thailand and all I got was this lousy t-shirt.'"

John laughed and took a drink of the coffee. He judged by the temperature that she had been waiting for him for slightly longer than she had indicated. For another minute they both sat in awkward silence.

"So, how's things, kiddo?" he finally decided on.

"Kiddo," Riley chuckled. "Things is good. I mean, work still sucks, but you could probably have guessed that. Late stage capitalism and all..."

She seemed to want to say something else, but either couldn't figure out what or was unsure if it was a good idea. John couldn't work out which from her expression alone. She focused on something outside and John watched her lips and tongue fidget.

"And how about," John decided as he was talking against being too direct, "...outside of work?"

"You mean how's my boyfriend?" Riley said, meeting his gaze.

John shrugged. "If suddenly receiving a t-shirt from a guy is too suspicious, you can throw it out, by the way. I'm not going to take it personally or anything," he said.

It's just junk, anyway,

he added mentally,

imbued meaning or no.

She reacted with an expression that he couldn't quite parse; he thought maybe disbelief or just confusion, but the way she followed it by chewing on her lip told him it was certainly tinged with something else.

"I'm sorry," John said, reflexively.

"For what?" she said.

"I don't know," he said. "It just seemed like the right thing to say."

She shook her head, looking up to the ceiling as if it had the words she was searching for scrawled on it.

"It doesn't matter," she said. "I mean, the shirt. I mean, not that the shirt doesn't matter. It's sweet. I mean he's not going to notice or care that I suddenly have a new shirt."

"Ah, well, that's...good?" John said. They sat in silence for long enough that they each took sips of their coffee. Evidently she still felt it was his turn in the conversation so he added. "How is that all going? Your boyfriend, I mean. He's good?"

"Yeah, yeah," she answered. "He's good. Look..." she trailed off.

"Was there something in particular you wanted to talk to me about?" John asked. "Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to hear from you, but, well..." he wasn't sure how to phrase all of the thoughts that he had spent the last week processing that wouldn't come off as insulting or desperate or just uncomfortable.

"I'm getting married," she said suddenly.

The spigot of thoughts that had been pouring out of his brain and backing up in his mouth suddenly got cut off and he held them there, bitter on his tongue for a few seconds.

How'd that little Buddhist koan you learned go? Something about just accepting things as they are? Something about keeping it casual?

he asked himself. He breathed in deep and let it out slowly, and in opening his mouth imagined that he could feel the thoughts just dissipate into the atmosphere. "Oh," he said finally.

"Yeah," she said. Her eyes were focused on her fingers, which she was moving around, pressing against each other with a seemingly random nervous energy that brought to John's mind the impression of a handful of earthworms, pulled from their cozy dirt and now writhing blindly.

"Congrats," John said. "I hope..."

What?

he thought

I hope you're happy? I hope it works out? I hope you can keep your dick in your pants until at least the reception?

"I hope you're better at wedding planning than cleaning your apartment."

"Yeah," she said, looking up at him and trying and failing to force a smile. "Me too. I'm probably going to fuck it all up."

"Ah, you'll be alright," he said. "I'm sure it will be a very Riley wedding. Very thought out, very unorthodox, maybe. Beautiful, though, I'm sure. Send me some pictures when you can, alright?"

"Of the wedding?" she said.

"Yeah, you in your dress and everything," he answered. "I don't really need any pictures of the honeymoon. Kind of seen enough of that already."

She let out a little half-laugh, shaking her head slightly as she focused on some nondescript patch of floor a few feet away. "Yeah, I guess you wouldn't." She blinked a few times. "I'll try to look hot, anyway."

"I'm sure you will be," he said. Again they sat in silence, listening to the sounds of various coffee-making apparatus and people typing away on laptops at the neighboring tables.

"Anyway I just, I guess I thought you should know," she said. "I mean, I thought you might be really upset, but then I thought you might be more upset if I didn't tell you."

John just nodded along, not even understanding his own reaction well enough to begin verbalizing it.

It is what it is,

he reminded himself,

it was what it was.

"But it seems like that trip did you some good. I hope you got some good ladyboy ass. And that you didn't catch anything." She turned her eyes back up to his again; as she spoke they seemed to be searching him for something, though he could not begin to fathom what.

"Don't worry," John replied. "Already cleared on that front."

"Good," she said, then, "so, why was Carrie at your house? You're not like, getting back together, right?"

"Oh, god, no," John chuckled. "She's just..." he thought back over the last few weeks' events. "She was just crashing there while I was out of town. Shouldn't even be there any more. But she has a way of, well..."

"Overstaying her welcome?" Riley offered.

"I wouldn't say that," John said. "She's alright. Anyway I'm sure she'll find a place soon enough."

Riley said nothing in response, but looked, at least to John, as if she wanted to.

"Would be nice to have my bed, back, though. She does not seem keen on giving it up." He took another sip of coffee and attempted to find the beauty in the bustle of the other patrons.

"She's making you sleep on the couch?" Riley asked, her face betraying more amusement than genuine curiosity.

He shrugged. "'Making me' is probably imbuing her with a degree of authority she doesn't really have..."

"Because you fucked her friend?" Riley asked.

John involuntarily reacted with surprise. "Yeah," he said hesitantly, "she told you about that, I guess?"

"It might have come up in conversation," Riley answered.

John just nodded and took another sip of coffee.

"For what it's worth, and I say this in full solidarity with all womankind," Riley said, "she's being kind of a bitch about it. Her friend should not be off limits. And it's not like you two were together at the time."

"Yeah," John said.

Not like that, but not entirely

unlike

that, either. Probably why people advise against hooking up with exes.

"But it's whatever. She'll get over it, or more likely she won't. But I probably shouldn't be that worried about the inner lives of exes. Haters gonna hate, right?"

"Haters gonna hate?" Riley said with an unexpected smile. "Did you pick up some eastern wisdom over there?"

"Something like that," John said. He was a bit surprised to find he had begun smiling in reaction.

"You're probably right, though. Don't worry what your ex thinks. Or me, for that matter. I don't know if I count as an ex or not. Haters gonna hate." Riley punctuated her sentence with a slightly delayed sigh. She looked at John for a few seconds across the little coffee shop table, then added, "Well, I guess I should probably go. I told you what I needed to tell you. Probably I'm only making things worse at this point."

"You're going to fill me with caffeine late in the day and then just take off?" John teased.

She shrugged. "Sorry. I don't know. I thought maybe it would be kind of shitty for you. But I guess you're fine, just, like, it doesn't bother you. I mean, just hanging out with me. Maybe you've got other girls or boys or whatever to fall back on. Or maybe that trip really did give you some kind of spiritual...something, I don't know. Anyway I'm glad that you're doing fine. But I should probably go. I told Nick I was just going out for a couple things."

"Ah," John said, outwardly translating the expected but no less painful for it reminder of why she was here with him in the first place into calm understanding. "Yeah, you should probably go, then."

"Yeah," she said. She stood up, taking her coffee cup in hand. "See you around." Her voice rose ever so slightly at the end of the sentence; John was unsure if she had intended it as a question or if it was just his imagination, but he decided to leave it at that, responding with just a nod before she walked out.

Other fish in the sea, Johnny boy,

the little voice in his head reminded him.

That

was how that koan went,

John answered himself silently. He pulled out his phone and opened, for the first time in weeks, that dating app.

...

so i guess Liam told u by now

John looked, somewhere between confused and amused, at Chloe's response to his, he had hoped, casual opening

Hey

text.

That he's leaving?

John texted back. He followed it up with another text:

It would be a little late to give me the news at this point.

He glanced at the clock on the phone, and doing a little computation. Liam should have been in New York for a full two weeks as of one hour ago. It was not exactly an anniversary he was expecting any time of commemoration of, but if he hadn't texted Chloe out of loneliness, sitting in his empty house, empty beer bottle on the coffee table while the tv droned on in the background, then why was he texting at all, and why one of Liam's friends?

And not even the one I hooked up with when she was here,

he thought.

Not for lack of trying,

that little voice in his head responded.

Aren't you a part of my brain?

he thought back at it.

How can you not remember that I specifically tried

not

to hook up with her.

I didn't say lack of trying on

your

part,

the voice retorted.

That, he had to admit, was true enough. He had been drunk that night, but not as drunk as she had been, and certainly not drunk enough to black out their little 3AM chat over the porcelain god she had been worshiping at the time. In any case, it had turned out to be, if it had even been a genuine effort on her part, fruitless, as had been his rejection of her to preserve Liam's feelings. He'd ended up fucking her friend Zoe instead, and Liam hadn't cared, anyway. And to top it off, Liam had ditched this sleepy little burg for the bright lights of the big city.

Good luck to you,

he picked up the beer bottle, tipped it to an absent friend, and drained the little liquid that remained in it. "You're going places, kid," he said to no one in particular. His phone, which he had placed on the table while retrieving the bottle, buzzed, to which he responded, "At least someone is."

He picked up the phone and read Chloe's response, which continued to arrive, one text at a time while he read:

yeah totally

i dont know, Liam can be a real asshole sometimes

I mean, I love him

but like he just told me the other day

John found that he shrugged unthinkingly in response. Liam had always struck him as a very agreeable sort, had never done anything asshole-ish to John's mind, anyway. But, he supposed, that was the view of a fuck buddy and not a differently-gendered friend, one who had spent years feeling guilty for a secret hookup with Liam's at-the-time crush.

All men are 🐷

he texted back, then got up and dealt with the empty bottle, deciding to call it a night. By the time he had rinsed it out in the sink, Chloe had replied again.

not all men

some are ok

I'm probably just a bitch

He had to laugh at the idea that anyone, anywhere would have ever considered her a bitch.

Nah, you're pretty great

he texted back, then went to brush his teeth.

She texted back quickly:

🐷s not all bad anyway

taste pretty good

He laughed, spitting out some toothpaste as a result.

Do you mean literal pigs or men?

She texted back:

omg I meant like 🥓

so glad there is no sausage emoji

I'm so dumb at texting

can I call you?

He laughed out loud, then having become acutely aware of the way his laughter echoed in the bathroom, texted back

Looking forward to it.

A few moments later, as he walked out of the bathroom and towards his bed, the phone rang. He took a seat on the edge of that bed and brought the phone to his ear. "Hello," he said in his goofiest voice, "For English, press one."

"Español," Chloe's voice came through the phone.

"If you are dialing from a rotary phone, please stay on the line," he continued.

"Español, por favor," Chloe said, stifling a giggle.

"No hablo Español," John said, "Please stay on the line, someone will be with you shortly." He then started humming The Girl From Ipanema, almost certain she would not recognize it.

"I feel like I've been waiting for someone to 'be with me' for a while now," she said.

John was almost positive she was joking around, but he couldn't discount the possibility that there was a twinge of sadness in her response. "Sorry to have kept you waiting, your time is valuable to us. You've reached John."

"Are you always this dorky?" she asked.

"Aww, I thought I was being cute," John replied, now unable to discount the twinge of sadness in his own voice.

"You can be both," Chloe replied.

John wanted to say "thanks" but it felt like overkill, and besides, she hadn't actually said he was cute, and so there was a strange moment of silence before Chloe continued, "Anyway, sorry if it's weird to call you out of the blue."

"Not exactly out of the blue," John said. "I mean, you did ask for permission first."

"Oh, yeah," she laughed a strange little laugh, perhaps more endearing for how unprompted John found it. "Sorry, I guess I'm a little dorky, too."

"You can be both," John replied.

"Both what?" Chloe asked.

"Oh, uh," John realized that what he had said made little sense. "I meant to say 'cute', like, you know, when before..."

"You're so dorky," she said, then quickly added, "I mean like awkward. But obviously so am I. Is it maybe being on the phone? Is it weird? You probably haven't talked to a girl on the phone in like, well, probably forever."

"Hey," John said, a little bit happy that it was only a phone call so she could not see how much she was making him smile, although he did not wish to investigate further why he was feeling a bit embarrassed about that, "I actually remember calling girls. Back in like, I don't know, middle school, probably. From a

landline

, even. You've probably never even seen such a beast."

"Hey, my parents have a rotary dial phone," Chloe replied.

"Oh, is that why you didn't press one?"

"I don't think anyone has used it in years," Chloe said. "Maybe I can show it to you some time."

"Next time I'm out your way..." John trailed off, realizing he had at one point made a vague gesture towards visiting her.

But that was with Liam,

he thought. He realized he had been letting the silence hang. "Oh, but weren't you moving here, anyway? I thought Liam got you that job."

"Yeah, actually about that..." now it was Chloe's turn to trail off, although John unfortunately had no idea what for.

"Are you calling to say you are also moving to New York or something?" he said. He had hoped it would come off playful but it didn't sound that way to him.

"No, no, nothing like that," she said. "I'm lucky he got me this job. I meant, well, can I ask you a favor?"

"Sure," said John, a little confused.

"Could you...and you can totally say 'no', like I get it, this is probably weird, but could you maybe...help me move sort of?"

"Sort of?" John asked, a smile starting to rebuild itself.

"Yeah, I mean...sorry I'm dumb. I shouldn't have asked you, it's too weird. Like, we barely know each other, right? But, like, I don't know anyone there and, well, anyway, I guess it was dumb. Sorry, never mind. I'm such a dork. And like overstepping and..."