Chapter 36
As of now, it's been 24 hours since my big fail of a birthday.
I spent the majority of last night drunk, and felt entitled to do so. It's all part of the process, you see?
First – denial. Then – pain and guilt. Next on – tons of alcohol, and lastly, acceptance. At least in *my* version it's like that.
Today hasn't been that much better. At least I'm sober. But said sobriety led me back to pain and guilt.
I'm sitting at home, being a complete slob, bowl of nachos in my lap, staring at my sculpture. I use one hand to eat said nachos, and hold my cell phone to stare at Em's text in the other. It's like a trance. I've been doing this for hours, this rotation. This might be a very low point for me. Really though, looking at this piece of art, I'm thinking about myself, about what I want, and how things could've been way way worse. Renée was a test. And I think I passed. Maybe barley, but I did. And why? Because the future I might still have, jumped into my head. Once again, Em saved the day, without even being present. I guess, in a way, she's always present. Especially in the past few months, there hasn't been a moment in which she wasn't. In one way or another.
I look at Em's text again. Ask myself *again* "but what does it *mean*?" start to reply, stop myself, stare at the statue, repeat.
The way to hell is paved with good intentions, and obsession and nachos.
Every time I start to reply, I'm certain that this time, I'm gonna go through with it, then I change my mind and just carefully try to not hit 'send' by mistake. I just wanna say the perfect thing, but what the fuck *is* the perfect thing?
I didn't even bother to act like a human being this morning. Still in my PJs. Shocking that I even changed last night in my state of drunkness. I may have passed on brushing my teeth/hair today.
Blah.
I take another nacho and push it into my mouth as I stare at the text, again.
A knock on the door.
Ah? It's like 7 PM, I look like shit and probably bare a similar smell. Who'd come unannounced and disturb my party of sorta self pity? Either Aimée, or Renée. I was crystal clear with Renée. It's gotta be Ams, and she's not gonna like what she sees.
"Just a second!" I say and rush to the bathroom for a quick glance in the mirror. Totally hopeless. Whomever it is, probably Aimée, will have to deal.
I walk to the door, look through the peep hole and… No way!
I open the door and there's a huge grin spread on my probably homeless looking like face.
The lovely familiar girl doesn't even wait for me to invite her in. She just walks in as she says:
"McCullers. Happy belated birthday."
"Hello Spency-loo. Long time no see! Hmm… thanks? Don't take this the wrong way, but… What the fuck?"
She doesn't really respond, she just smiles and lands on the couch, making herself comfortable. She's looking around, then at me again, checking me out, top to bottom, clearly disapproving of my current state.
"You're judging," I say to her.
"You look like a zombo."
"I'm sorry, I look like a what?"
"A zombie hobo. A zombo. It's a thing. Spread the word."
"That's… actually sort of brilliant."
She smiles at me and says:
"Wow, you bastard. I really missed you." She decides to finally really acknowledge me and she stands up, walking toward me for a hug. I hug the girl - appreciating the gesture given my current odor - surprised that she's even here in my apartment considering she spends her days in D.C.
"What? Aren't you happy to see me?"
"Hmm, hell yeah Spence, but kinda, you know… surprised? What? Langley gave you a break *that* easily or are you on a mission?"
"Oh shut up, Paige and get us some snacks. We need to talk." She then notices the nachos and adds "Oh, I see you already got *that* part covered. Never mind." She sits back down and grabs the nachos. I reach for a chair to sit in front of her as I ask almost instantly:
"Is Emily alright?!" No matter how long it's been, worrying about Em, especially after the past few months, will always be my first instinct.
She looks at me intensely, and it just makes me even more worried, to the point of panic. I feel sick to my stomach.
"Spencer! What is it! Please tell me that she's okay!"
She sighs and finally says:
"I'm sick of being nervous about her bumping into you, on one of her visits here."
I sigh with relief. Was that it?
"Well she doesn't even now I'm here. So…chances are slim at best."
"She does now, P."
"Don't call me that." I could see I hurt her, so I quickly add, "please. That's what she used to call me. And what do you mean 'she does now'?!"
All of my defense walls are starting to crumble with confusion, but I know more is coming.
"Paige, she found out okay?! What difference does it make? If you think she's not coming here, probably walking into places you've been to together, every time she visits, you are completely deluded."
"And why would she do that, Spencer?" The possibility seems so ridiculous to me.
"Because she's still friggin' completely in love with you, you idiot!" She's getting mad now and I'm just getting more and more confused.
"Why are you telling me this? I always thought you didn't want us together."
"Wha… why?!" The way she asks makes me realize I've upset her even more. How do you do that, McCullers? But I take a breath and say what always seemed like the truth in my heart.
"Because you think I'll mess her up."
"Is that what you think I think?!"
"Isn't it?"
She laughed sarcastically. She does it a lot, she's Spencer. I think she's both mad *and* hurt right now. Not a good combo.
"*I* think, that you two are soul mates. Always did."
Wait, what? I am shocked, and in awe. She melted my heart. Just like that. Gave me the reassurance I needed from someone who's an outsider in a way. Someone who cares so deeply about Em, thinks I'm what's right for her. I feel the tears in the corners of my eyes.
"Spenc…"
"Please, call me Spency-loo. That's my code name at Langley."
"Really?!"
"No."
I smile sadly at her attempt to lighten the mood, and say:
"You know I don't think I'm good enough for her."
"Well, too bad. Because even if it was true, which is, complete and utter BS, FYI, she only wants you anyways. So be a mess all you want, but for the love of God, do it by her side. I don't know how to say it in a clearer way."
I take in what she says. I've had months building slowly towards this moment, and all of a sudden I feel like I'm on full speed, way too soon. It's really scary.
"But, at this point how are we even supposed to know that we're not just obsessed with the concept of being together?"
"Why would you be?"
"Because…we never had a closure. But maybe that's all we're gonna get out of it."
"And you're afraid."
"Yes, because always hoping to have something is better than trying and losing it forever."
"Sure about that?"
"No."
"Good, then there's hope for you yet."
"Nice. Very nice." I take a pause, but she sees I still have something to say, so she waits patiently.
"I… I'm sorry for giving you this responsibility. Of hiding our friendship. Of… reporting to me. I should've never done it. Not like this anyways. It was selfish."
"Wow, McMonster! Not so much of a monster after all, ah? As I said, might be hope for you yet!"
"Lovely, so… is that what you came here to say? Seems awfully pricey just to do the act of slapping me in the face. Metaphorically speaking of course."
She smiles.
"We can do the actual slapping if need be. No. I figured – 'Almost a new year's resolution'. Fix the girls. Save the world. Which is why I have one more thing I need to tell you."
"I'm pretty sure we covered all the surprises for today, so go ahead," I say to her with a smile. She gives me a look that says I'm totally wrong.
"What? What is it?"
She pauses, looks at me, then speaks.
"She was just here, Paige. I know she texted you. She was here *when* she texted you. She came here to get you back. You know your new painting? The snow globe one? She was the one who bought it. She left last night. I was waiting at the airport. When she told me she… failed, I hopped on my scheduled flight here. "
I just sit in front of her, looking like a complete idiot, I'm sure, in shock. Pure, utter shock. So much information is running through my head right now. So many questions. Things start to click. I try to say something, but I can't.
She was here! She texted me from here. Had I answered that text, I could've spent my birthday with her!
Wait. The American model look alike from the gallery! The mystery lady! Aimée met Em! It was Em all this time.
My head hurts as I try to recall the past few days. Where and when else did I miss her? Spence is being kind enough as to let me process everything, and just stares at me quietly.
"H…how long was she here for?" I finally manage to ask.
"For about a week."
I'm trying to make sense out of this. She was here for the art show. If I had only gone to that, I could've seen her! If I had only let Aimée organize a meeting.
Oh my god! The girl in the diner! The one Craig said was there all week, and even earlier last night! She left ten minutes before I walked in! It had to be her! Going back on my birthday to… *our* place.
She sent me all those small signs and I missed them. I'm such an idiot.
And then, only after I'm done connecting all the dots, I realize one of the first things Spencer said. It changes everything for me, and I say it out loud without even realizing it.
"She came here… to get me back."
"Yes. Thank you. I was waiting for that part to sink in."
"She wants me back. She was willing… after everything… after I… she found out we kept so much from her… and she still…"
"Yes, as I said, completely and utterly in love with you."
"I'm such an idiot. I was so caught up in everything…"
"Yeah, painting her instead of actually heading out and seeing her. One of your finest moments indeed. Well, you have a chance to redeem yourself, *and* end my misery."
I take a few more seconds, and then finally say:
"Hey, Spence? Where is she now?"
"I was hoping you'd ask that," she said with a smile. "Take me somewhere awesome, and I'll fill you in on *everything* you need to know."
"Aria didn't really need a cake recipe, did she?"
"Nope."
I'm starting to feel a bit light headed, in a good way. Excited, happy, my mind is still struggling to understand everything. There was a whole little plot going outside my art bubble in the past week. I missed so much, but here's what's crucial, and this part I know – she came here to get me back. She was ready to fight for me. 3 years later. She still wants me. It's not a question of maybe. It's a sure thing. With all of my doubts, and what I put her through, she still wanted me. She still saw what's true. She came here to get *me*. Now it's time, I'll go get *her*. And I'll *never* let go again. Yes, I'll be a mess, but by her side. Just like Spencer said. God bless her for coming here.
I can't help but smile as I quickly change, Spencer is staring at me the whole time.
"Perv," I tell her.
"Ah, you wish. Just making sure you'll also brush your teeth. That's right, you heard me. I smelled your breath."
I blush a bit, she caught me in my state of hobo… well… zomboness. I oblige and brush my teeth.
Then I realize…
"Hey, Spence?"
"Yeah?"
"Zombo?"
"Em."
"Thought so. Now, how would you feel about going to see Jim Morrison's grave?"
"Morbid, cultural, historical value. You know me so well, Pages."
We smile at one another, I put on my coat - she never took hers off - and we walk to the door.
I say one more thing:
"But seriously, what is it that you do?"
"Nice try."