It got colder, and it seemed to get colder the closer I got to home. The weather forecast said it would snow that week, which was almost unheard of in our area. But it was still hot in our apartment.
Jonah didn't come home at his usual time. I made myself coffee and a Hot Pocket and drew and drew and drew until my hands cramped and all my pencils wore down. I was finally finished, I thought, and not a damn moment too soon. I made myself another Hot Pocket and curled up on the couch to watch the latest cop procedural.
I heard keys jangling, and a stomp, and then the door opened. Jonah stepped in, shivering, and slammed the door.
"Hi," I said.
"Hey." He dropped his bag on the floor and came over to kiss me. "What are you watching?"
"Whatever's on."
We kissed. He sat down next to me. The cops were in a car chase.
"I have to go over to Ashton tomorrow," he said.
"Okay. You want a Hot Pocket?"
"Not really, thanks. So, um . . ."
"Um?"
"Would you mind doing me a favor?"
"Sure."
"Would you come with me?"
"To Ashton?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I have to work a job there."
"Okay?"
"So will you come with me?"
"What time?"
"It's supposed to be an all-day thing."
"I'm supposed to meet up with the publisher tomorrow morning. And then I have class."
"Take the day off."
"I haven't cut class all year."
He grinned. "We used to do it all the time!"
"I know, that's why I stopped."
We laughed.
"Why do you want me to come with you? I don't know how to fix computers."
"I, well . . . Hank's out of town and Tara needs to stay in the office. I'm the only one available. It's kind of a big job, but I can probably handle it myself. You don't need to do anything, it'll just seem more legit if I don't show up by myself."
"I guess I could take the day off," I said.
"I figured it would be nice if we had a little day trip anyway."
"That would be nice."
"We can head out early, get some breakfast somewhere."
"Haven't done that in a while, either," I said.
"I know."
"All right," I said. "I guess I can tell them I'm . . . I don't know. Coming up with new ideas."
"You're an artist, don't artists need that sort of thing?" Jonah lit up a cigarette. We weren't really allowed to smoke in the apartment, but he did it anyway.
I shrugged. "I think I finished the book."
"Really?" He looked so happy for me. I'd forgotten what that felt like, that what I was doing was actually kind of a big deal.
"Yep."
"That's amazing." He kissed me deeply. "You're amazing."
"I'm not," I said. "But I love you."
"I love you. We should celebrate."
"Pancakes. Tomorrow morning."
"Absolutely. Whatever you want."
"What I want is to scan all that shit in before we leave. Fucking A. I hadn't even thought of that."
"I'll do it."
"You don't have to."
"It's fine." He patted my leg and stood up.
He went to scan my drawings, and I got up and went to pour myself another cup of coffee. Wait, we had to be up early; I probably shouldn't -- ah, screw it.
"Want some coffee?" I said.
"Is that Hot Pocket still an option?"
"Sure."
Labels: january brings few faces
