Chapter 6
"Lo?" She sounds like shit. This is gonna be fun.
"Good morning Donnatella. Do you plan on coming into work today?" I say this in a jovial voice.
"Who is this?" She asks in a growl.
"This is your employer." And your future husband. I choose not to mention that last part out loud.
"Why are you calling me?"
"Because it's 8:30 and you're not in the office." I can just picture her, lying in bed on her stomach with her face partially buried in her pillow, hair askew, mascara smeared under her eyes, tank top twisted around her torso, blankets kicked off, right foot sticking out of the baby blue sheet that's covering her. Maybe I should go there to work instead of making her come here. It's just a thought.
"Who is this?" Didn't we already determine that?
"Josh. The man whom you assist on a daily basis." The father of your future children. The best sex of your life. The man you're destined to be with. Again, I don't say most of that out loud.
"What time is it?" Haven't we already determined that too? Am I this bad when she wakes me up? Wait, don't answer that.
"We've already covered that. It's 8:30," I say, openly laughing at her.
"What day is it?"
"Sunday."
"We work on Sunday?"
"Most of them, yes. Also, we're leaving at 1:30 to meet Jeff the gym guy, so we need to work extra hard this morning."
"Who?"
"Does any of this ring a bell?"
"Do I know you?"
"You do, as a matter of fact. You work here at the White House with me. We do important government type work and you bring me things I need like my schedule and coffee."
"Nice try," she says, and I can hear her sit up.
"Sure, choose now to wake-up."
"I still think you're lying about the Sunday thing."
"The number of NFL games I've missed in the last seven years would prove otherwise." I don't mention this either, but I don't think the number of NFL games I see is going to improve all that much once I marry her.
"What time is it?" Three times? This is too fun.
"8:30."
"You have staff at nine." See, I told you she wasn't disorganized.
"I know. Although I was forced to go elsewhere for my information."
"You could've looked on your computer."
"Nah. Ginger told me."
"Ok, I'm getting up."
"Ok, two creams and one sweet 'n low."
"Fat chance."
zzzzzzzzzzzzz
I come out of senior staff at 9:40 and Donna's bright eyed and chipper at her desk, eating a bagel and drinking coffee. How is it that an hour and ten minutes ago, she sounded like she was dying and now, looking at her, you'd think she got ten hours of sleep, had a massage, a facial, her hair professionally done and took a yoga class? I get drunk, you can see it on my face for a week.
"Good morning, Donna. It was nice of you to join us today."
"I thought so," she says with a snarky smile while handing me a folder and a few messages as I pass by her desk. Is there any reason not to love this woman?
"Brett Allen called again? What's his deal?" I ask myself as I head into my office looking at a message from him.
"I think he just calls to flirt with me."
This makes me stop dead in my tracks. "Did Brett Allen ask you out?" I'll kill him.
"What?" she asks innocently, looking up from her computer.
Remain calm. I repeat, remain calm. "Brett the bore Allen. Did he ask you out?" I can't take two men hitting on her in the same weekend. I'm not programmed for it.
"No," she says, looking at me like I'm insane.
I stare at her and she looks back at me like I've lost my mind. And if I have, it's her fault. "Then what makes you think he was flirting with you?"
She chuckles but CJ's the one who answers as she walks by. "Have you ever seen her Josh? All men flirt with her."
"Thank you," Donna says to her, nodding.
"How's the house hunting going?"
"It's going," Donna says with a frown.
"I don't flirt with her," I mumble as I walk into my office. I hear CJ laugh and have a sneaking suspicion it's at me. This only makes me mumble more.
But my mood changes when I walk into my office. Sitting on my desk is a bagel. And while there's no coffee with it, there are two creams and a packet of sweet 'n low. Like I said, is there any reason not to love this woman?
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
"Ok, we're going to keep an open mind today." Is she trying to convince herself?
"Right. An open mind." No we're not. We're back on the sub-plan. Her pouts, her glazed over eyes, her breath catching from excitement… none of that stuff's going to work today. I must be ruthless. I must remember the sub-plan. It's for her own good.
"The perfect place is out there."
"Right. It's out there and we'll find it." Yes. It's in Georgetown. It has hardwood floors and a separate dining room and an office that can easily hold a double desk. It also has a back yard with a grill, patio furniture and a garden that's the perfect size for a fourth of July party and playing catch with Jake.
"Today's the day. I can feel it." What if Jake was a prodigal baseball player? What if he played for the Mets one day? I could probably convince Donna to get season tickets if our oldest son played short stop for … focus, Josh, focus.
"Don't set yourself up for a fall. Some people look for months before they find something they like." Like maybe eleven months and 20 days.
Wait a minute! Am I going to spend every weekend for the next eleven months hanging out with Jeff the gym guy? And more importantly, is Donna? Great, now I'm seeing the need for another addition to the sub-plan to protect the plan. I don't know what that addition is yet, but I see one coming.
We pull into the parking lot and Jeff the gym guy's standing against the sexmobile talking to some other beefcake guy. Great. That's all I need. Isn't it bad enough that I have Jeff the gym guy and Brett the bore Allen? Not to mention blonde British actor guy. Do I have to compete with yet another man after my woman? Not that I'm afraid of the competition. I'll win, of course, but it's added stress that I don't need.
We get out of the car and Donna greets beefcake #2 like she knows him. "Mark, hi." How the hell does she know this guy?
Beefcake #2 smiles and gives her a hug. Ok, I'm gonna lose it. I might look calm on the outside, but it's all for show. I looked calm the night I nearly murdered Cliff Calley too. Why are all these men hugging my wife? I'm going to go fucking ballistic if one more beefcake hugs my wife. Just leave your fucking hands to yourself, would you?
"Josh, this is Mark," Jeff the gym guy tells me as though I didn't just hear Donna say that.
I look at him for a minute without shaking his hand. "Nice to meet you." Not.
"You too." He then turns to Donna. "I hear the perfect house slipped through your fingers yesterday."
"Yeah." Thanks for bringing that up, dick. Remind her, why don't you.
"Don't worry, you'll find another. Jeff's great at this." Jeff's great at this. Blah blah blah.
"How do you guys…" I gesture between Donna and beefcake #2.
"Oh," Donna says. "Jeff and Mark are partners, we all go to the same gym." Of course, that damn gym. I've got to bump up that part of the sub-plan. I'm doing some research tonight on gyms in her area.
"That's great," I say, forcing myself to smile.
"Listen," Jeff the gym guy says to me. "Mark's car needs to go into the shop. I hate to ask, but would it be ok if you drove today so he can use mine?"
Oh! Beefcake #2 isn't going with us? Yes! "Sure. No problem." Absolutely!
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
The first place we go today is a small three-bedroom house in a not great neighborhood in DC. From the outside it's cute, and I see Donna's eyes do the glaze thing again. Look away from the eyes and focus on the sub-plan, you spineless bastard.
"This is cute," she says, standing in the living room. It's been freshly painted and has new carpet. It's really small, but I don't say that.
We walk into the kitchen, which has a door leading out to the back. Looking out the back door, I can see an alley behind the house that is disgustingly littered with trash. "That's some view you've got there," I say.
She comes over to where I'm standing, and stands so close that our shoulders are touching. I decided to use this as an opportunity and reach around her waist to open the door. Then I stand behind her with my arm still around her, my hand leaning on the doorframe. "Yes," she says laughing. "That is quite a view."
"That'd go well with the 4th of July picnic you're having."
"Oh no, we're having that at your place. You already said we could."
"Right," I say with laughter in my voice, although my heart does a flip-flop at the idea of co-hosting a party with Donna. A minute later, we turn around and Jeff the gym guy's staring at us. That's right buddy. You and your beefcake friend can just step back.
"Is there a dining room?" Donna asks him.
"Nope, it's an eat in kitchen."
"Where the hell are you supposed to put a table?" I ask. This kitchen is very, very small.
"That's a good question."
We go down a hall to the two downstairs bedrooms. "These are decent size," Donna says. "Small closets though."
I walk into the second bedroom and look around. "Um... actually, this one doesn't seem to have a closet at all."
"What?"
I shrug. "There's no closet in here."
She walks in the room, followed by Jeff the gym guy. "Can it even be called a bedroom if it doesn't have a closet?"
He shrugs. "You could use it as an office."
Finally, we go upstairs to the third bedroom. Kind of. There is no bedroom. There's a crawl space with no electricity and a space for a half door. Literally, if this was a bedroom, you'd have to crawl into it. "This is the third bedroom?" Donna asks.
"Um…"
"They might be able to call that other room a bedroom, but this?" I ask him. It has no floor. It's an attic. What the hell?
"I'm calling the realtor," Jeff the gym guy says, walking back down the stairs. "They're misrepresenting this place."
"I think I'm ready to go the next place," Donna says smiling.
"Good, I was about to start taking pictures for your father."
zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
The next place we go is bizarre looking. It's… I don't know. It looks huge from the outside, but only has about 1300 square feet. And it's brick with big white pillars in the front, almost like a small plantation from the Civil War days. Plus, it looks about that old, and not in a restored good way.
We go inside and the living room is long but narrow. There's a fireplace at one end, which Donna makes a note of. Why do people want fireplaces in their homes? I have one and I've never lit it. Not once in the seven years I've lived there.
We keep walking around the small house, and find that it's formatted oddly. For one thing, the master bedroom is right off the kitchen, and there's supposed to be one and a half baths, but we haven't found the half yet. And the upstairs is just one big room. It's a bedroom, but the ceiling follows the room, so one entire side of it's at a slope, which is just…odd.
"This is nice," Donna says, looking out back door to the decent sized back yard.
"This is cool. Like some old Hitchcock movie," I say casually. Donna gets freaked out by Horror movies. Let's see how this works.
"Josh!"
"What?" I ask innocently.
"I…you compared the house to Hitchcock?"
I nod, still playing innocent. "Yeah. It's got narrow hallways and that room upstairs with the shadows on the wall. It's cool. That room would make a great office."
Her mouth drops open and she stares at me. Then she walks back upstairs and I wait. When she comes back down, she turns to Jeff the gym guy. "This place gives me the creeps." And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how the sub-plan works.