Please find a link to an illustration for this chapter (28f) in my profile. You will find links to all the other chapter illustrations i have done there too.
Thank you so much for the constant support.
My favourite thing about staying in hotels is the way their towels feel against my freshly washed skin. Especially when they are as fluffy as this. I wrap it around my naked body as I observe sleeping Holly from inside the bathroom door. Her physically drained body has now succumbed to a day that felt like an endless roller coaster of emotional torture. I think we are both happy to get the fuck off of that ride.
Gail-shark seems to be feeling the full force of her embrace as they both lie relaxingly on one of two single beds. At least now I don't have to lie to my mother about Holly having a twin room. Something to feel less guilty about, I guess. Though, in saying that, I should probably start thinking about how I am going to broach the subject of Holly with her. She will undoubtedly bring up my love life at some point tomorrow, probably while everyone is listening so I am less likely to make a scene. But in the off chance that she doesn't, perhaps I should make the best of that opening and just go for it. Fuck the consequences. I am sick of hiding my feelings.
I turn off the bathroom light and I wander over to the large double window on the far side of the beds. I quietly pull open the long red curtains and a sea of lights welcomes me. I hear a faint knock on the door so I drop my towel on my way over to the closet and I slide into one of those fluffy white cotton robes that the hotel provides. I realise if Holly is awake right now she would have probably copped an eyeful, but luckily for me it is not very bright in here as the room is only lit by a single bedside lamp. I open the door and quietly accept the tray of coffee from the attendant and carry it back over to the window while trying to ignore the fact that there are is pair of brown eyes following me, and I don't mean Gail-sharks. Yup, didn't think that one through did ya? I set down the tray on the coffee table and pour myself a cup from the percolator before hopping up onto the wide ledge of the window. With my back against the window frame and my legs stretched out in front of me across the windowsill, I look out into the cold dark night of the city that never sleeps. With both hands wrapped firmly around my cup, I bring it up to my lips, every so often blowing into hot liquid so I can watch the steam rise and create condensation across on the surface of the glass.
"What time is?" I hear her yawn, and I turn my head to see her stretch her arms out in front of her.
"I think it's just after eleven," I determine a guess. "You should go back to sleep," I tell her, but she has already risen from her bed.
"I want some coffee too," she insists as she drops Gail-shark down on her pillow. I place my cup on the windowsill and turn to slide off the ledge to make her one.
"Stay there," she urges me as she adjusts her very short, white and kind of skimpy looking nightie. I'm not complaining, but it is like someone forgot to sew on the rest of the material. I could probably wear it as a hat. I can't help but smirk into my cup of coffee.
"I could drink ten cups of this stuff and it still wouldn't make a dent. Was not very helpful during those long nights in the lab I can tell you."
I can completely sympathise with her dilemma. It does nothing for me either except for keeping my caffeine-starved headaches at bay. She pours herself a coffee and hops up onto the windowsill to sit opposite from me. She stretches her legs out across the ledge until our bare feet meet in the middle.
"You have giant hobbit feet," I blurt out and she inelegantly chokes on her first mouthful. I must say I am rather pleased with myself, because I wasn't quite expecting this reaction. I sit quietly and drink my coffee as I await her response, because god knows there will be one. She catches her breath and composes herself. Let's see what she has got for me.
"You know that hobbits are really tiny right? So my feet are basically tiny too." she states. Nice try, Lunchbox.
"Err, yes. But if we were talking in terms of scale here, the height to foot ratio would still mean you have giant hobbit feet. There is no way around this Frodo," I grin and she just smiles into her coffee. C'mon, I won right?
I see a light switch on behind her eyes. She has something else for me. "You know what this means don't you?" she asks.
"Please, enlighten me," I teasingly urge her.
"We can't share each others shoes," she smiles.
I open my mouth up wide and put my hand over my cheek and pretend to be shocked and saddened. "Oh no! The horror! How will I ever be able survive! Not your gumboots! Nooooooo!" I sarcastically imitate a scream and then burst out laughing.
"Here is something random for you," she states all of a sudden, interrupting my glee.
"It's not the history of the gumboot is it?" I chuckle. "Because I'd really prefer to jump out this window and impale myself on something really sharp than have to listen to that," I scoff. However, I am sure she could probably even make a gumboot sound interesting.
"Shut up!" she laughs as she nudges my feet with her own. "I was going to ask you to tell me something that you have never told anyone before."
"Okay, so you really did mean random," I comment and she nods her head at me with an expression that can only be read as 'Well duh!' "Okay, I need to ponder this for a second because I am such an open book," I joke as I look out the window and into the hustle and bustle of the traffic below. I raise my eye line a little and look at the billboards on the sides of the buildings, and I glance at something that makes me think of the most fitting story for this particular moment and location.
I clear my throat, which brings Holly out of her own immediate thoughts. "So when I was ten or eleven years old, I came to stay with my Auntie Alex, my mothers sister who lives here in New York. She still does by the way," I begin and I notice Holly settle down a bit more into the windowsill as she gives me her full attention. "I was here for about a week during the school holidays. One day we went to a matinee for the production of, um, I think it was Cats? Or maybe it was Oliver! I can't remember," I shake my head vigorously. "My mother hadn't completely reprogrammed my brain yet," I joke, however she grimaces, presumably because she knows I think it's true, a reaction I have had from her before. "Anyway, we had just gotten out of the show when my Auntie asks me if I wanted to go do something fun. So naturally, I said sure, why not? I don't get much of that at home. So we end up at an open casting call for the Broadway revival of the musical Annie. You know it?" I ask.
She leans over to the coffee table with her long arms, balancing as she places her cup down on it. "I read the comic strip Little Orphan Annie a few times when I was younger," she offers as she straightens up. Somehow I am not at all surprised by this revelation. "Saw the film too I think. Pretty sure I'd recall the songs if I heard them," she notes.
"Right? So from the ages of about five to eight I was totally obsessed with this musical, so much so my mother, actually, on my fathers urging, had to ban me from watching the movie. I was only allowed to watch it once a month."
"That sounds a bit harsh."
"Maybe, but Holly, I watched it about four times a week! I kind of see why that would have been overkill, especially when I would also run around singing and acting out the songs all over the house like I lived in the orphanage, also, pretending that my mother was the evil caretaker Miss Hannigan, didn't help either."
"Oh my god that is so adorable! Did you have a scruffy dog named Sandy too?" she asks jokingly.
"Um, no comment!" I laugh. When I said obsessed, I meant it. "Anyway, I have gotten completely off track," I say and I take another mouthful of my coffee.
"No, I love the cute backstory," she admits.
"Okay, so we are at the casting call and my Auntie is pushing me out on stage urging me to sing. I wasn't against the idea, because I loved to sing and it was all quite exciting being on stage with half a dozen eyes on me."
"Aww, so cute," she wiggles in her seat like she has gotten a case of the warm and fuzzies.
"Okay, okay! Yes, we have established that I am precious. Now, shoosh, will you?" I laugh. "So I start singing the lyrics," I pause for a moment to decide whether I am actually going to sing this next part out for her or not. I probably still have enough of a buzz on so I can still claim I only sing when I am drunk, "when I'm stuck with the day, that's grey and lonely. I just stick out my chin and grin and say..." I sing. "Can you guess what happened next?" I ask.
"I don't know, you forgot the words?" she suggests.
"I wish! I projectile vomited into the first row," I sheepishly smile and cower into my cup. She puts her hand over her mouth; kind of like the way I did earlier only her reaction is genuine.
"Oh no! You poor little thing," she says and I nod in agreement.
"Yes, so my Auntie and I decided we wouldn't tell anyone what happened, let alone that we went there in the first place. My mother probably would have had a fit! So yeah, never told anyone that before. Well until now obviously," I smile. "Actually I am pretty sure that's when the whole stage fright and not being able to get up and speak in public thing started."
"But you said you get up and sing in karaoke bars?"
"Get me drunk enough and I will do anything," I laugh and she raises her eyebrows at me. Yes, really. "Except for the public speaking thing, that is a whole other ball game. I can barely speak in full sentences when I am sober," I scoff. I hop off the ledge and put my cup down on the table and go and snatch my purse from the desk.
"I think you are doing pretty well with this whole speaking in full sentences game, at least with me anyway," she points out as I gingerly jump back up on the windowsill again and I open my purse and pull out the envelope Bloomberg had given her that I accidentally stole before dinner.
"Here," I say as I hold it out to her. "I didn't have a chance to give this back to you before my mother dragged me away at dinner," I explain and she takes it from me and smiles. "What is it?" I ask.
"Probably an all expenses paid holiday to Tahiti or something like that," she shrugs.
"You're kidding?"
"Funnily enough I am not," she laughs, "I mean, it usually depends on which hotels hold the conferences and whether or not they sponsor these things," she continues as she opens the envelope.
"I'm guessing you have probably received stuff like this before?"
"I have but I have never used them," she reveals, and I stop myself from asking why seeing as it's pretty obvious to me given the past few hours.
She drops the envelope in her lap and smiles at me when sees my calculated expression. "Oh, it's not for the reason you think," she assures me. "When I first became a forensic pathologist, I had noticed how my colleagues were all so caught up in their work and various research that a lot of them didn't really have time for days off or vacations. It's not that they don't want or need them, it just sort of turns out that way, you know?" Sure, sure, work, life, got it. "So I thought this would obviously be the same throughout all the other forensics departments across Canada. So it kind of became this thing that I took upon myself, where by now if anybody wins an award and receives some kind of gift like I just got, and they don't need it or plan on using it, they send it to me and every four months or so I auction them off for charity," she smiles and my heart melts just a little bit. "So now I have not only doctors, but people from across all emergency services throughout Canada sending me stuff. It has grown into this pretty big thing over the past few years. It's kind of amazing really," she expresses in a daze, however, I don't know how to respond because of the complete state of awe I am in right now.
Her eyes narrow and she pouts her lips. "And now you are staring at me strangely," she points out, and I try and shake myself out of it.
"Sorry, I just," I stop to find the words, "I was going to say how surprised I was at your generosity, but really I am not surprised at all that you would do that. I don't know… I am kind of running out of nice things to say to you because I have already said them. You are just full of surprises Holly Stewart." She begins to blush but I can't not stare at her. Her pull is too hypnotic. "So what did you get in that envelope that you will never use?" I ask before she completely overheats or worse, bursts into flames.
She leans over and holds the envelope out to me. "You tell me, I didn't look," she says as I take it from her hand.
I open it up and smirk at its contents before sliding it back inside the envelope. "Oh pfft! Who wants to spend two weeks on a beach in Brazil anyway," I shrug and I fling the envelope into the air and she starts laughing at me, luckily not hysterically like earlier. "So is it just one charity that benefits or do you change it up?" I ask and as her laughing gradually dies down.
"It changes every four months and I am usually the one who chooses which charity, thoughsometimes I let others choose if they feel strongly about something," she says with the slight remnants of a chuckle.
"Nice!" I nod and she nods back and it almost feels like we are taking a walk through Awkwardtown.
"Would you choose the next charity for me?" she asks.
"Um, okay," I stammer.
"Have a think about it, okay?" she urges me as she hops off the windowsill and walks over to the bathroom. "Choose something that is important to you because I am pretty sure I can get a decent amount of money for that trip!" she quips as she closes the door behind her.
I hop down too and walk over to my suitcase, throwing my purse onto my bed. I grab a fresh pair of underwear and an old V-neck t-shirt to sleep in I and remove my robe and change into them before sitting down on the edge of the bed. I lie back with my head towards the foot of the bed and I put my feet up against the wall.
I hear Holly come out of the bathroom as I pick up my purse and take out my phone so I can check to see if my mother has messaged me a time for breakfast tomorrow.
"Gail, are you going to check your messages?" Holly asks, which brings my thoughts back to the abundance of messages she had sent earlier that I never got a chance to read.
"That's right, nerd," I smirk.
"Gail, can you give me your phone, please?" she asks and I turn my head sideways and she is sitting on the edge of her bed holding her hand out to me, looking quite concerned about it all.
"You really don't want me to read these do you?" I ask attentively and she fearfully shakes her head. "Why, how bad are they?"
"They aren't bad, Gail, it's just, I was a bit drunk. We had started drinking at like five o'clock in the after noon and then I had a wee bit of a meltdown somewhere between then and you arriving. They don't really matter anymore. I mean I guess if you wanted you could, but" she strains and I hold the phone out to her.
"Okay," I say, though she very tentatively takes it from me. She seems quite surprised that I gave it up so easily. "I have done the whole drunken message thing before, I get it, it's not a great feeling," I commiserate.
"Thank you," she says, as she lies down on her back in the same direction as I am and starts deleting the messages. I watch her smile and shake her head. "Some of these are quite amusing," she laughs, but then she starts frowning a second later. Five seconds after that she is back to smiling again and then back to frowning again and now she is laughing. Man, what the hell did she write?
She stops her latest bout of laughter. "Um, Gail?" she says as she turns onto her side, propping herself up by the elbow. "Sorry, but I just accidentally read a text message from Traci," she smirks as she hands my phone back to me. I immediately look at it and then proceed to smack my hand onto my forehead before covering my eyes with one hand.
Traci 9:45pm
Pulled yet? :D
"Oh gawd," I draw out as I drop my phone and purse over my head and down into my suitcase on the floor behind me. Thank you for embarrassing me, Traci! She is a dead woman! I suddenly hear Holly jump up from her bed, startling me. "Holly, what are you doing?"
"What does it look like? You are too far away from me. You can't exactly pull from that distance can you," she laughs as she lies down on her side next to me and I wiggle over as best I can to make more room for her. I am not sure this bed is big enough for both of us.
"You know you are probably still drunk, right?"
"Yes..." she says in a deep voice.
"I would be taking advantage," I coyly laugh. "Plus you do realise my mother is next door, right?" I question.
"Yes..." she says in an even deeper voice. "And these walls are pretty thin too," she adds as she crawls her fingers up my arm.
"Right, so I am not really sure I want her to hear me screaming your name," I state.
Her fingers stop moving and she clears her throat. "I see. I didn't realise I would be dealing with a screamer," she chuckles as she slides her hand on top of mine which is resting on the center my chest. "Hey! Why exactly is it you that gets to be screaming my name? Seems a little unfair if you ask me," she huffs.
"Um, probably because I am lying like a vegetable and can barely move my limbs right now."
She flings herself onto her back and sighs. "I am so completely wiped," she sighs again and we both stare at the ceiling in silence for a while before she suddenly chuckles. "Actually it's probably a good thing anyway, I am so sick of hearing my own voice."
"Yeah, me too," I laugh.
"Hey! Watch it!" she elbows me in the arm. "Or I won't let you have your way with me when we get home."
I turn over and lie down directly on top of her and I softly nestle my face into her chest, directly over her heart. "I am afraid this is about the best I can do at the moment," I tell her as I slowly slide my hand up and under her nightie, letting it come to rest over her breast. She wraps her arms firmly around my back as I try and concentrate on her heart slowly beating and not the dull aching between my legs. How can her heart be beating so slowly?
"What about Gail-shark?" she whispers.
"It's either her or me. Choose wisely," I mumble into her chest.
"Hmmph" she exhales. "At least she gave me a kiss goodnight," she whines.
As the sun begins to rise, warm coloured rays of soft light peak around each building and stream in through the window allowing me to see the glittering dust particles that hover above us. I gently remove Holly's arm from across my waist and extract myself carefully from the bed so as not to disturb her peaceful slumber. I walk over to the coffee table and pick up my glass of water and take a sip as I step closer towards the window and I stare down the ten floors and watch all the people running around probably trying to find some coffee. Mmm coffee. And bacon.
I hear the rustling of the bed sheets and I turn around just in time to see Gail-shark fly through the air and across the room as Holly begins to reposition her sleeping position. Turning onto to her side, she brings her knees up while her arms tuck themselves comfortably underneath her head. I leave my glass on the windowsill and tip toe over to my suitcase to go in search of my camera. The morning sun and an oblivious subject could make for a perfect photo. I sit down on the floor next to my suitcase and begin to wind up the film that is already inside the camera. I wonder what the hell is on it? I thought my last roll of film was currently hanging on my bedroom wall.
I quietly replace the old film with the new black and white roll I had bought at the airport. I stand up and rotate the shutter speed dial and set the aperture ring to the appropriate settings and then I double check the light and readjust the settings again after looking though the viewfinder. I think I am good to go.
I stand over the end of the bed where my suitcase is and focus in on the white nightie clad body lying in front of me and I click the shutter button. "Fuck!" I totally forgot how loud these things are compared to digital cameras. She stretches an arm out unknowingly towards me and I drop the camera down on top of clothes that sit inside the open suitcase below me and I flick the lid shut.
A smile washes over her face as she begins to open her eyes and she rolls over onto her back and looks up at me hovering over her. "Why do you look like you were just caught with your pants down?" she asks curiously, and I then find myself looking down at my legs to check if I am in actual fact wearing any pants.
"Um, I am not wearing any pants," I tell her, and she mischievously grins at me as she hastily reaches for the hem of my t-shirt. She pulls me down towards her and I do a one-eighty as I crawl over her body and onto the bed. I lower myself down on top of her, resting my elbows on the bed either side of her head so I can brush the hair out of her eyes. "Morning," I smile only inches away from her face. I lean in and hover over her slightly open mouth until her hands find their way around to the sides of my face and she pulls me into her lips for a slow and gentle kiss.
"Morning," she grins, releasing her hold on my face. She stretches her arms out sideways before bringing me down into a bear hug. "Do you hear that noise?" she asks as she brushes her hands through my hair and I softly moan at the welcoming contact. "Is it the door?" she asks.
"No, it's not the door," I smirk into her chest.
"Then what the hell is it?" she exclaims and I rattle against her chest with my laughter.
I lift my head up to look at her, resting my chin against her sternum as I cross my arms along her chest. "Yeah, that would be my personal alarm clock, knocking on the wall trying to wake me up for breakfast," I hesitantly grin in embarrassment.
"I am surrounded by crazy people," she mutters, folding her arms up over her face to cover her eyes.
Please find a link to an illustration for this chapter (28f) in my profile. You will find links to all the other chapter illustrations i have done there too.
Final New York chapter up next - Shopping with mother. So looking forward to them going home.