"No way!" Jess said, hints of laughter ringing through her voice.
"Listen, it was Bob's idea," Nick offered, holding his hands up in mock surrender.
Off to the side of the kitchen they sat, face to face, separated by the small, wooden high top that Schmidt had once envisioned as his intimate, morning-after-exceptional-coitus breakfast nook. On the table between them remained a pair of mostly cleared salad plates, alongside several mostly empty Heisler bottles. Nick had just been telling Jess about the ups and downs of the new late night happy hour menu he was pushing to install at Clyde's. Most of the items on the menu were par for the bar course: nachos, wings, cheese sticks and the like. But Big Bob had suggested something a little more ambitious. Something Nick found he didn't quite have the culinary expertise to pull off.
"Wait," Jess said, pushing her glasses up her nose. "Putting Tuna Tartare on the late night menu was Bob's idea?"
"Yes, and I for one thought it was fantastic."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I mean…"
"Uncooked fish. Prepared by you. Served to unwitting customers. That seemed like a good idea?"
"I don't know," Nick smiled, taking a swig from his beer. "I guess I got caught up in the moment."
"Ya think? You would've killed someone."
"Well, let the record show that we ultimately thought better of it."
"Thank God."
"And after tonight, it's just as well. I'm thinking we should totally just add some guacamole to the menu instead. You know, thanks to that little trick you showed me with the knife and the pit."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah, it's a real time saver. I used to struggle like crazy to get that damned thing out. Used to lose half the avocado meat in the process."
"Avocado… meat?" Jess questioned, raising her eyebrows.
"Yeah, Avocado meat" Nick replied matter of factly before shrugging. "It's the only way I can eat vegetables, Jess. I have to trick my brain into thinking I'm in some way eating meat."
"I could see that. In any case, glad I could be of help," Jess said, slapping the table.
"It's good. I've been meaning to step up my avocado intake anyway, you know. I hear they're a good source of 'healthy fats'."
"Oh, don't let Schmidt hear you say that. He says the only kind of 'good' fat is 'gone' fat."
"Sounds about right."
"Nick, he is losing it lately," Jess said, flaring her eyes for affect. "I mean, even more than normal."
"Oh, do tell," Nick said, leaning in closer.
"Yesterday I came home and caught him ironing his apron. Ironing it, Nick. The thing's entire purpose is to get dirty, and yet he irons it. Meticulously."
"So? Sounds like Schmidt."
"Okay," Jess said straightening up. "Try this: he actually installed sanitary toilet seat cover dispensers in the bathroom."
"Okay."
"One in each stall."
"And?"
"You don't think that's weird?"
"Oh, it's totally weird. But let me ask you this, Jess."
"What?"
"Do you use them?"
Jess pressed her lips together to suppress the smile that was forcing its way across her lips.
"You do, don't you?" Nick laughed, waving his finger in a circular motion at her.
"Well, why not?" Jess confessed. "I mean, I've been vastly outnumbered by you guys over the last few years. That's a lot of dude butt crossing those seats."
"Fair point. I guess."
"Okay, how about this, then. He set up another three, count them, one, two, three shower caddies in the shower. That's makes five now. One for everyday shampoos, one for everyday conditioners, one for every day body washes, and one for what he has titled "The VIP Ignition Sequence". That's all the stuff he gets specially flown in from Norway. He only uses when he thinks he's going to get laid."
"Okay, I guess that's a bit excessive, but…"
"Do you want to know what the 5th caddy is for?"
"I'm not sure..."
"Mirrors. A half a dozen tiny mirrors of various shapes. Nick, why does he need so many different, tiny mirrors?"
"Best not to think about it, really."
"Five, Nick," Jess said, holding up five fingers. "Five shower caddies. You know what that makes our shower? It makes it a veritable shower caddy shack!"
Nick scrunched up his face as he flinched at Jess' joke. Jess frowned and shut her eyes hard as she recoiled herself.
"I'm… I'm sorry," she apologized, closing her eyes and raising her hand. "I just, I was feeling it, and I… I knew it was wrong, but I just… I just went for it, and…"
"Hey, don't beat yourself up. We've all been there."
"Still, you know, I've been working at it, I've been doing better. Sometimes I just gotta know when to lay off."
Nick smiled at Jess' only mostly affected embarrassment. He hoped she never stopped with the lame jokes. They were part of her. Perhaps insignificant in the greater scheme, but part of her nonetheless. And that in itself was important. As he pondered a moment longer, he caught himself watching her too closely, noting a stray hair flying away from behind the ear of her glasses. He chased the instinct to reach over and tuck it neatly behind her ear, allowing his eyes to linger only an instant more. He bit his lip, shook his head, and smirked.
"Well," he said, nodding. "I'll see your idiot and raise you my idiot."
"I'm sorry, there's no way Winston is as bad as Schmidt."
"I'm not so sure about that, Jess."
"Try me."
"You got it. Sometimes at night, when he thinks I'm asleep, I hear him in his room practicing his Miranda rights."'
"Is that some kind of euphemism?"
"No," Nick said, shaking his head. "And also, ew."
"Then I don't see the big deal," Jess shrugged. "It's part of his job."
"Yeah, but it's how he practices. He makes his voice all deep and sexy-like," Nick said, dropping his voice. "He likes to get all Barry White with it. 'You have the right to remain silent. You dig? You have the right to an attorney. Mm-Hmmm."
"He does not!" Jess said, her eyes brightening.
"He totally does. Oh, not only that, but sometimes he recites lines from old cop movies."
"Cop movies?"
"Yeah. Like Dirty Harry. 'Go ahead, make my day." And, "Do ya feel lucky, punk?"
"Oh no."
"Yeah, but that's not the best part," Nick said, flailing his hands. "He likes to go really, really old school with it. Like, I'm talking 1800s, John Wayne, Gary Cooper, old West, cowboy stuff."
"Like what?"
"I don't know the lines as well, but it's a lot of 'Pardner this', 'Pardner that', 'whoa thar little doggie', and 'you'd better mosey on outta here if ya know what's good fer ya' type of stuff."
"This is just…," Jess managed, her smile taking over her entire face. "….Gold. Pure Gold."
"But Jess," Nick said standing up. "I haven't even told you the best part."
Jess beamed as she sat quietly, her eyes following Nick as he stepped to the side of the table.
"This one time, I was home, but he didn't know it," Nick continued. "And he was on his bike over there in the hallway. He had his helmet on, his glasses on, and he was crouched real low, like he was riding it. I didn't think much of it at first. But then after a minute, I start hearing this noise. 'Phew-phew, phew-phew'. And it's Winston. He's over on the bike going 'phew-phew-phew' with his gun. 'Phew-phew-phew." Nick repeated, making a gun with his hand and gesturing. "But, you know, just… with his actual gun."
"I don't believe you," Jess said, resting her chin on the palm of her hand as she listened on.
"Still not the best part," Nick insisted.
"Nick, what…"
"When he puts his gun away… you know… to concentrate on the apparent high speed chase he's in the middle of… he actually…" Nick said, stopping to compose himself. "He actually makes little vroom-vroom noises with his mouth."
They were silent for a moment. Jess bit her lip and looked off to the side, confused. After a bit, she opened her mouth to speak, only to stop before she started. After another moment she tried again.
"But Winston's… a… bike cop."
"Yup."
"A… uh… bicycle cop."
"Yup."
"There's no 'vroom vroom' on a bicycle."
"I know," Nick said, folding his arms. "Just don't tell him that."
Jess lifted her hand to her nose and sniffed. She took a deep breath and smiled at Nick, who smiled right back. It had been a great night. All of these weekly get-togethers, which they had recently dubbed as 'play dates', had been great nights. Some of her best in the last few months. As she reflected on that fact, her internal clock pinged off, alerting her that they had been staring and smiling at each other for too long. Again.
"So," she said, clearing her throat and gesturing to the living room. "Should we start the movie?"
"Yeah," Nick said, swallowing hard, snapping out of his own trance. "Let's… uh… let's get it going."
Nick started to move into the living room as Jess stood up and followed. She reached into her pajama pocket and pulled out her phone. Tracing the bunny ears with her finger, she swiped her thumb across the screen and stopped.
"Oh," she said, her face falling.
"What's up?" Nick asked as he plucked the remote from the living room coffee table.
"Nick," she answered, holding her phone towards him. "It's quarter after midnight."
He stood still a moment, silent. He tapped the remote against the palm of his hand as he thought to himself. Where had the time gone? One minute he was talking to Schmidt, the next minute he and Jess were prepping a salad, and the next they were here. Four hours, gone that quickly. Too quickly. He didn't want the night to end, but he knew it was exactly what had to happen. After a moment, he nodded, and forced a small chuckle.
"Looks like we did it again," he smiled, flipping the remote softly onto the couch.
"Looks like," Jess answered softly.
"I guess Hannah and all those sisters will have to wait another week."
"Yeah," Jess said, looking down for a moment before glancing over at the door. She took a step towards it as she turned hopefully back to Nick. "Same time, same place?"
"Let me think," he said, moving to meet her at the door. She slid beside him just as he reached for the knob and clicked the door open softly. She slipped out into the hall, and he followed behind. They instinctively ambled down the hall, side by side, as he nervously fumbled with his fingers and thought to himself about the coming week. "Yeah, I think that should work. Cece owes me, like, a million shifts anyway. So I'd say we're good to go."
"Great," Jess said as the neared the door to 4D. "Next Monday it is."
They both stood nervously in front of the door to their old apartment, afraid to look at each other. When Nick had moved out, he had done so for good reasons. They couldn't possibly live together anymore. Too much had happened. But neither of them had any interest in being completely removed from the other's life, either. That was simply out of the question. So they came up with their arrangement. Their 'play dates' would occur once a week, schedules permitting, and they only had three prerequisites. 1.) They would always meet one on one. In the safety of the group, they worried they'd simply slide away from each other and lean too heavily on their friends. This was about their friendship, and they would be the ones to mend it. 2.) Their encounters would never occur within the all too familiar and intimate surroundings of apartment 4D. Too much had happened behind that door. And 3.) Every 'play date' would end with a mutual update of their romantic lives. They agreed it was best that they be upfront with each other when it came to moving on. Best to hear it from the source than to find out through some other channel.
Still, each and every time this part of the evening came to pass, the mood changed. The suspense of what the other might say weighed heavily on both of them. The information shared in previous occasions had held very little of consequence. Yet they each knew the longer they did it, the more time that passed, the more likely it was that someone was actually going to have to break some news the other wasn't likely to want to hear. The holidays had recently encroached upon their get-togethers, so the suspense was even greater this night. It had been three weeks since they had done what they were about to do, and that meant three times the potential for something to have finally happened. For the situation to have changed.
"Welp," Jess said, nervously fingering the door of 4D. "Do… uh… do you want to start us off?"
"What happened to ladies first?" Nick deflected.
"Always so chivalrous," Jess mumbled as she finally turned to face him. She locked her eyes into his and shrugged. "Tim Peters bought a Christmas gift. A ring. In a box with a nice, tidy bow on it."
Nick folded his arms as he looked away. "A ring, eh?"
"Yep," Jess answered, shrugging. "A mood ring to be precise. I'm guessing it cost him all of $4. But $4 to a twelve year old is nothing to shrug at."
"$4 to this thirty-three year old is nothing to shrug at, either," Nick deadpanned.
"So… yeah. That's about all I've got," she said, breaking her eyes away from Nick and returning them to the door to 4D. "How… how about you."
"I got nothing," Nick answered, quickly and bluntly. "I mean, this one customer at the bar got a little handsy with me one night. She was… a little drunk."
"Oh," Jess said with a knowing tilt of the head.
""Yeah. She even got her fingers on the Sharons," he said, looking down.
"That so?" Jess clipped, not biting.
"Sure is. But I think she was just trying to get her keys back."
"What makes you say that?"
"Well, I had taken her keys. That, and she kept saying 'give me my keys back' as she grabbed at me, so…"
"Reasonable deduction."
"I think so."
They stood a moment longer, looking at each other, relieved. So far, they had done this little dance at the end of every night, and every time, nothing of any real concern was shared. And therefore, every time, they shared in this moment of absolute relief.
"Well, I should…" Jess said, nodding her head at the door.
"Yeah, no. Go, get some sleep."
"You too," she said opening the door with her left hand.
"Next week," Nick said, lifting his hand up and reaching it in Jess' direction.
"Next week," Jess answered with a smile before lightly pressing her right hand to his. She blinked, ducked into the loft, and quickly shut the door behind her as Nick turned and made his way back towards 4C.
Once inside, Jess closed her eyes a moment and steadied her breathing. Though it was only Monday, she knew she'd just ended the best part of her week. And while she was grateful to have those moments at all, it was a bit of downer knowing she had to wait seven days to enjoy herself that much again. But she eased her mind with the same thought she always eased her mind with at this point of the night came. She reminded herself that at least she did have this to look forward to next week. And the week after, and the week after. She also reminded herself that this was something that could've been lost completely had she and Nick self-destructed in a more damaging manner. They had lost a lot, but they had stood to lose so very much more had things gone differently. And she couldn't even bring herself to wonder what she would do if they ever truly passed the point of no return in what still seemed to be a very fluid situation.
She took a deep breath and started shuffling to the bathroom to ready for bed. She suddenly remembered Cece and the guy she was trying to set Jess up with. Furrowing her brow a moment, she questioned if she should have told Nick. Shaking her head to herself, she decided she was fine. She had honestly just forgotten about it. It was that unimportant to her. But the thought nagged her as she brushed her teeth and washed her face. She gave herself a look in the mirror as she finished up and made a decision: she would call Cece in the morning and insist she call off the date. Cece would understand. It just wasn't time yet. Jess gave herself an affirmative little nod before she flicked off the bathroom light and headed for bed.