New Zealand took her breath away. Their apartment was amazing: a spotless, teal-blue kitchenette that melded into a family room complete with cable television and opened, from another direction, into a kitchen table that seated four (perfect); a living room with two leather sofas and more window than wall; another dining area; simple bedrooms with wardrobes and full-length mirrors. Except for the two bedrooms, everything was hardwood and stylishly decorated with expensive rugs. The bedrooms were plain, but simple and tasteful. A bit businesslike for her tastes, but that could be easily solved. She fell in love with the place as soon as they set foot inside; Jenn would have happily spent their entire holiday in their spacious apartment. .
As it happened, that was not the plan. Orli swept through the apartment, depositing roughly twelve bags of luggage, the contents of which the four of them had decided they absolutely could not live without, and blew right out again, rushing everyone ahead of him, back into the car. They'd barely been granted permission to change; although the cast reunion was supposed to be relatively informal, all four of them had been living out of carry-on backpacks and not enough showers for the two days they'd been traveling.
Jenn felt like little more than luggage herself as Orli hustled everyone away, while she tried hastily to find Ally's bottle and diaper bag, attaching one dangling gold earring with a free hand as her other rummaged through her second suitcase. She sighed inwardly, torn between exasperation and amusement at Orli's insistent swiftness.
"Orlando!" she heard someone call out, and blinked, irritated, as a camera flashed not three feet from her face.
"Why are the paparazzi here?" she asked Orli waspishly as they waded through a sea of photographers, Josh and Michelle close behind.
It was Josh who answered. "The paparazzi are everywhere. Don't worry, when filming starts they won't be allowed near the set. Unfortunately for us," he added, wincing as he sidestepped a hopeful-looking teenage girl, "this is just like a reunion for the cast and all their tagalongs."
Orli, in the meantime, had gone to speak with the owner of the voice that had hailed him before. Jenn, looking ahead, found him laughing with Viggo Mortensen and waving them over. She carefully stepped around reporters trying to shove microphones in her face and ask stupid questions ("We've all heard the rumors. So is that really Orlando Bloom's baby?" and Jenn, while vaguely wondering why her love life was public knowledge even halfway across the world, harked back to the tabloid article and everything that followed; she nearly up and socked that particular reporter in the face) to join her husband and allow herself to be introduced to Viggo, who was smiling at her as though he'd seen her many times before, when, in fact, she'd only met him once, earlier that year when Orli's birthday party had taken place. She shrugged and followed everyone inside, barely able to refrain from collapsing against the wall in relief that none of the reporters and photographers had been invited in.
"Beth?" she asked, astonished, as a tall, slender young woman clutching a midnight blue purse and wearing a matching strapless dress stepped into view, attaching herself to Viggo's arm and already exchanging pleasantries with Michelle.
Beth glanced up and rushed to give Jenn a hug. "I'm so glad you're here!" she cried. "I haven't seen you in such a long time."
"But…" Jenn stammered, confused.
Beth explained with an easy smile. "You knew Viggo and his wife divorced six years ago. We've been together for three years which, of course, Jenn knew somewhere in the back of her mind. And," she continued, face lighting up, "I found out last week that I'm pregnant!"
Jenn and Michelle both squealed with excitement, and Viggo, Josh and Orli smiled, knowing this kind of conversation must have been the norm when they were all growing up together. With a flurry of delighted words, the three women were gone, sipping champagne and mingling with the rest of the cast. Viggo turned to Josh and Orli. "So how's life in the States?" he asked Orli.
"Life's great. Just had Ally last week, as a matter of fact," Orli said proudly, and Josh hid a smile, thinking amusedly, He's already playing the proud father, and then worrying, Will I be that loving when we have our baby? He tuned back into the conversation just as Orli was asking, "Where are you and Beth living right now?"
"We've been touring the world a bit. Henry wanted to go to boarding school this year. He's fourteen, we figured we'd let him make his own decisions, so we took some time off. At the moment we're renting out a little apartment not too far from here. We've been in New Zealand for the past three weeks, and we're staying until filming wraps." Their aimless chatter soon revealed that Viggo and Beth were, in fact, renting in the same apartment complex, three floors up ("We could go out on our balconies at three in the morning and shout back and forth," Viggo suggested laughingly.)
"What the hell is going on out here?" Orli asked sleepily, trying to sound authoritative but failing miserably in his paisley pajamas. He stared at the plastic cup rigged to a long piece of yarn, which twisted its way up the pillar of the balcony and disappeared far above his head. Jenn and Michelle didn't answer, apparently intent on their project.
Orli repeated the question, with extra expletives.
Michelle finally glanced up, looking perfectly warm in a baby-style, one-piece woolen sleep outfit that encased her feet, keeping them warm on the cold deck. "We're talking to Beth," she answered matter-of-factly, as though it were the most natural thing to be doing on a wooden deck in a classy apartment at two-thirty in the morning.
Orli stared at Jenn (dressed in a red fleece bathrobe and Peter Pan slippers over her pajamas), who was laughing as she held the bright red cup to her ear, and then put it to her mouth and said clearly, "I don't think they have many monkeys here."
She turned to Orli as Michelle took the cup. "See, we're communicating!" she explained happily.
Orli groaned, rubbed his temples, and slipped back inside.
All too soon, the leisurely days came to a close and filming took their place. Orli was gone nearly sixteen hours a day, and most of the time he staggered into the apartment- around two in the morning- he fell into bed, exhausted.
Josh, Jenn and Michelle found no lack of things to do. They went mountain biking and sailing, took an aerial tour of the urban areas, did some shopping (much to Josh's dismay), visited three different museums and a local zoo and were even offered the opportunity to take a tour of "Middle Earth" during filming, an exclusive provided only for the family and friends of cast members. Jenn's favorite by far was the Middle Earth tour; it gave her the chance to see Orli for a little while, and fully appreciate the challenge of filming the movies. She could not, however, bring herself to appreciate the easy intimacy of the friendship between Liv Tyler and Orli; knowing full well that Liv was married, it was too easy to forget that when she watched the way Liv acted around her husband.
At the moment, Jenn was cradling Ally, who was napping against her shoulder, and watching Peter Jackson direct yet another epic battle with fifty thousand Orcs. She couldn't help laughing as Peter explained the scene to a little boy who played a terrified villager ("Listen, Johnny, you won't look too scared if you're picking your nose while the bad guys are coming through and destroying everything").
"Excuse me," an authoritative male voice behind her said, and she turned, surprised. But the man wasn't looking at her; he was staring right at Josh.
"You," he said, indicating Josh with an inelegant flick of his large, rough hand. "Ever acted?"
Michelle, leaning against Josh as they watched the filming, snickered. The man's gaze rested briefly on her, then returned to Josh.
"Uh… yeah," Josh answered awkwardly, not quite sure if he should turn and walk away or start rattling off his résumé.
"Wanna be an Orc?" the man asked, puffing on a cigar. A small amount of drool slid down his chin. Jenn struggled not to wrinkle her nose in disgust.
"Sure." Josh sounded cautious, but interested.
"Cool." The man jerked his head to the left. "This way."
"Oh." Josh looked more cautious than interested now. Waving to Jenn and Michelle, he said, "See you later, I guess." He followed Cigar Man away to a massive dressing room in which hundreds of other extras were being fitted as Orcs.
"Well," Michelle muttered, disgruntled. She looked up at Jenn hopefully. "Do you think maybe I could be an Orc?"
"But I think I should be an Orc!" Jenn replied in a desultory manner. "But you… you're too short,"
"I'm shorter than all of you!" Michelle cried, then paused. "Or something about you that's… not nice," she finished uncertainly. Jenn rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the filming.
"And there's even a close-up of me!" Josh explained breathlessly. "Plus-"
Jenn interrupted, looking at Michelle. "Get him to stop."
Michelle merely shrugged. "We didn't do traditional wedding vows. He never promised to obey me. And he never does."
Josh continued as though there had been no hiatus. "I got to ride the elephant that Orlando killed! Then," he continued dejectedly, "I had to fall and pretend to be dead." He brightened. "But wait till it comes out, ooh, I'm going to show you which one I am and you'll be so proud of me-"
Michelle reached over and covered his hands with one of hers, and his mouth with her other hand. Giving him a quick peck on the cheek, she assured him, "We're already proud of you."
"Speak for yourself," Jenn murmured, and they both glanced up.
"You're not proud of me?" Josh asked, sounding injured. In moments such as this, he reminded Jenn of Michelle's younger brother at age eight.
"Of course I am," she muttered weakly. "Which is why you don't need to tell us any more."
"I wanna be an extra," Michelle whined.
"Me too," Jenn sighed, then grinned. "You know what would be really cool? I'd like to play an Elf. And then, maybe I'll get in a fight with Liv Tyler, so of course I'll have to pull a few punches…" Her face took on a dreamy look as she imagined the possibilities.
"Jealous?" Josh queried, looking concerned.
"Me? Jealous? Never."
"That's what all the jealous people say," Michelle pointed out helpfully.
"Then how do you know if someone's telling the truth or actually jealous?" Jenn challenged.
"You're jealous," Michelle stated, with finality. "I can tell."
"Maybe," Jenn conceded. "But come on, there aren't a whole lot of scenes with her and Orli. She doesn't have to hang around him so much."
"Does it bother you that I hang around with Orli so much?" Michelle asked reasonably.
"That's different," Jenn couldn't help saying.
"How so?" It was not scorn, but a genuine question.
"I know you. You're married. You would never try to steal my husband," Jenn replied.
"Because then I'd have to kill her," Josh offered, determined to get his two cents in the conversation he'd started.
"Not helpful, Josh," Michelle said with a mild, but amused, look. She turned to Jenn. "Liv's married, too."
"People have affairs," Jenn countered.
Michelle yawned and stretched. "It's not going to happen, Jenn." She patted Jenn's hand. "I'm sorry, sweetie, I have to call it a day."
"Yeah, me too," Jenn admitted, trying to conceal her yawn as she too stood.
"Hey, maybe I'll come too," Josh declared, obviously playing for attention. Michelle smiled at him through half-closed eyes. Turning to leave, she nearly fell into the table. Josh crossed the distance between them and gently picked her up, whereupon she leaned against his chest as he moved to carry her into their bedroom.
Jenn smiled. "You know, it's times like this you don't even seem like you're married. You look more like father and-"
"Jennifer, I'm begging you, do not finish that sentence," Josh said firmly. He leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead. "Sweet dreams," he added, his tone tender now. Glancing at his watch, he added, "It's close to two. Orli should be home soon. You want me to wait up with you till he gets in so you're not alone?"
"No," Jenn murmured sleepily, finding she could barely keep her eyes open. "I'm just going to go to bed. He'll wake me when he gets in anyway."
"Okay." Josh dropped another kiss on her forehead before walking through the adjacent door to his and Michelle's room. Jenn watched through the door, smiling, as he pulled off Michelle's shoes and brought the blanket up to her chin before climbing in next to her, not even bothering to change into pajamas.
Jenn padded silently past their room to hers and Orli's, where Ally, currently asleep, was also taking up residence. Being barely three weeks old, she wasn't sleeping through the night yet, and Jenn was usually the one who had to calm her, feed her, rock her, since Orli slept like a dead thing. She didn't blame him; Orli barely had enough energy on the little sleep he got. The last thing he needed was a reason to be up more than he already was. Still, she couldn't help resenting just a little the fact that she was taking care of Ally by herself. She sighed quietly as she crawled under the covers alone.
"We finally some time off filming tomorrow," Orli announced over a hurried breakfast at eight in the morning a few days later. "They're focusing on Elijah and Sean then, so I don't even have to show up."
Jenn, tired from lack of sleep, brightened visibly at this news. "Really?" she asked hopefully around a mouthful of bacon and eggs. She wasn't a breakfast person, or a morning person for that matter, but it was the only time she could really see her husband these days.
"Of course, I'll be catching up on sleep quite a bit of the time," Orli added apologetically, "but we should have some time together."
Jenn smiled as her mind ran through the possibilities. It was like having a honeymoon all over again.
Orli grinned too as he guessed her thoughts. "I honestly don't want to get your hopes up too high. It's only for a day or two, and then there are more small scenes I have to be there to reshoot. But I'm hoping we can still do something special."
"We'll make time," Jenn promised, then paused. "Well. You'll make time. I have nothing but time."
Orli laughed. "I promise. I always have time for you."
"Not these days," Jenn couldn't help saying.
His smile flickered. "You know I try."
She sighed. "I know. Really, I do. I'm not trying to be selfish here. I just miss you."
"I miss you too. I wish this were working out better." His look softened as he spoke. Orli refused to admit, even to himself, that bringing everyone along might have been a mistake. He wasn't sure Jenn was having any fun, nursing Ally all day and spending all her time with Josh and Michelle. Not that they weren't fun.
Still.
Neither of them was used to being apart from the other so much. Orli came back to the apartment long enough to take a shower, catch some sleep and breakfast, and leave again. Although Jenn kept busy discovering New Zealand and spent countless hours reminiscing with Beth and Michelle, the days were long and less enjoyable than if Orli could have shared them with her.
"I know," Jenn said in agreement, avoiding his gaze. "Not that I'm not having fun," she hastened to add, "but…" She trailed off, trying to force down the frustration and annoyance she'd been suppressing for two weeks. Failing miserably, she added, somewhat irritably, "But it would be nice if you did more than sleep and leave again." Now that she'd opened her mouth, the words kept tumbling out. "You stumble in at two in the morning and fall into bed like a dead thing. Ally doesn't even wake you up when she cries. And then, you have breakfast and leave. I'm beginning to feel more like a maid than a wife."
"I'm sorry, Jenn," he insisted, trying to get her to look him in the eye. "Believe me, it would be more fun for me too if I could be around more." He picked up Ally, who'd been lying quietly on the rug in the family room, not far from where they sat. She began to cry for no apparent reason.
Jenn didn't think she could deal with another crying fit on top of all her irritation. She reached over and pulled Ally out of Orli's arms, thinking she was hungry.
Ally stopped crying.
"For God's sake," Jenn cried, exasperated. "Make up your mind." But Ally appeared to be done crying, and Jenn handed her back to Orli.
She started crying again.
"Well." Orli tried not to look offended.
"You can't take anything she does too personally. She's three weeks old," Jenn told him, but she didn't mean the words. "Your own daughter has no idea who you are. She never sees you either," she blurted, surprising herself. She hadn't meant to say anything more.
Orli rubbed his temples and glanced at his watch. Without saying anything, he gave Ally a quick kiss on the head and dropped another meaningless one on Jenn's cheek as he distractedly handed Ally back. "I have to go," he said briefly, and Jenn could tell she'd upset him. Well, good. He'd been upsetting her for weeks. Just one thing…
"Don't you dare walk away when I'm talking to you!" she half-yelled, dormant rage beginning to rise.
He half turned in the doorway. "You have some other insulting derogatory crap to throw at me?"
Jenn yearned to tell him that insulting and derogatory were essentially the same. "I am so sick of this. This is typical. You're so busy all the time. Would it kill you to spend just a little time with your family?"
"What do you think breakfast was before you ruined it with this whole conversation?" he demanded.
"Oh, now it's my fault?" she cried. "At least my daughter knows who I am!"
"I cannot believe you are throwing that in my face!" he shouted. "I wish I could be around more! I'm tired. I am exhausted. Getting up to have a special breakfast was so hard, but I did it for you and this is what I get?"
"This is what you get?" she shrieked. "You want me to get down on bended knee and thank you for the extra half hour of sleep you gave up within the past three weeks?"
Just then, a diversion appeared in the form of a small, tousle-headed young woman with an empty water bottle in her hand. Michelle, who always slept with water by her bedside, blinked at them both. "Ah," she muttered. "I don't really need more water." She turned to go.
Orli glared at Michelle. "Don't you look at her like this is all her fault," Jenn snapped, intercepting his glance.
"Don't even try to tell me what I'm thinking right now," he retorted. In the general un-merriment, Michelle slipped back out of the kitchen unnoticed.
Jenn was livid by then. She opened her mouth to throw a furious diatribe at him. What she would have said, she never quite knew. As soon as Orli saw that she was getting ready to speak, he spat, "I don't have time for this," and walked out the door. Jenn forgot to close her mouth as she stared after him.
Josh walked into the kitchen at nine-thirty, looking akin to a Neanderthal with his tangled hair and sleepy-eyed expression. He did a double take when he saw Jenn, staring blankly at the wall and absently shredding a tissue with one hand as she used the other to support Ally, who was curled up against her chest.
"Trouble in paradise?" he questioned knowingly.
She didn't even look up. A brief nod was all the affirmation Josh was given, and all he needed. He reached out to pull her close, knowing how futile words would be. They sat that way, Josh silently holding her and rocking gently back and forth as best he could manage on the wooden chair, for a long time.
"What I don't get," Jenn, who was speaking again, announced, "is how he could blame me for all of this. I knew he'd be busy, really I did. But this is ridiculous." She proceeded to give the rendition of Ally's mysterious crying fit when Orli held her. "She has no idea who he is," Jenn concluded. "And these days I wonder if even I do. I mean," she continued, apparently not finished, "he could at least try to understand that it's upsetting for me to be taking care of Ally on my own. I know I have you two," she added quickly, taking in Josh and Michelle with an apologetic glance, "but it's not quite the same as having her father around. I mean, I know it's selfish, but I can't help feeling that way, you know? Maybe he could sleep less. Spend just a little time with me and Ally."
"You knew it would be tough," Josh pointed out softly. Michelle elbowed him, hard ("How mature," Josh muttered).
"I know I knew it would be hard," Jenn conceded. "I had no idea it would be like this. I knew I wouldn't see him much. I didn't know it would get to a point where his daughter didn't even remember him. I didn't know we'd be fighting about it like this. We didn't say much, but I know he's mad at me. He actually walked out on me this morning."
"But you're mad at him, too," Michelle commented mildly. "You've been annoyed with him anyway."
"I know," Jenn said miserably. "That's the worst part."
"Why does that make it worse?" Josh asked, confused.
"It means we're having a fight. Not an argument, but an actual fight. It's not some stupid disagreement where one of us gets mad and the other gets confused and then we both come back and apologize. It's going to be one of those things where it gets much worse before it gets better."
"It's just stressful for both of you," Michelle said understandingly. "It'll pass. Yeah, it probably will get worse before it gets better. But it will still get better." She gave Jenn's hand a comforting squeeze. "Try not to worry too much. You can't do anything whatsoever about it until tonight."
"Yes, I can," Jenn announced. "I'm going to see where he is. Maybe if he's not filming right now, he'll have a few minutes." The look on her face suggested she knew it was a slim possibility, but it was worth everything to try.
"But she knew I'd be busy," Orli explained, wanting to justify that morning's behavior, and the way he'd walked out angry. "It's not like I don't try to be around. It's just that I can't. I even told her I would have a couple days off after today, and now I'm afraid she'll expect to do something special, when I'll really be too exhausted most of the time by then. And then she'll get mad at me for not having enough time for her in the little time off I get, and we'll get into another huge argument about that."
"Marriage is tough," Liv said wisely. "You have to really want to make it work."
"I do," Orli insisted, "but what else can I do about this?"
"Not a lot," Liv admitted. "Mostly you just have to hope she can understand. Jenn's not an actress, is she?"
"Singer and dancer," he answered.
"Then she should have some idea. It's a demanding profession, and it's not your fault," Liv concluded.
"I feel like it is," he said sadly. "I feel like there's something I should be doing to make it better, but I have no idea what. I walked out on her this morning," he added. "I was getting mad, and I just left. She probably thinks I hate her now."
Liv gave his hand a gentle squeeze. "You can't change what you did, you know. You can decide what you're going to do to make up for it, but you can't sit and think about what you should have done, versus what you did do."
He looked at her, and she drew back at his gaze- his eyes were a striking brown, otherwise unremarkable to her, but they could pierce like daggers. Orlando had always been like a brother to her, laid-back and fun to be around; it was easy for her to forget the intensity of his more passionate side. And now as she looked into his eyes, she sensed that his problem was much deeper than a few unloving words exchanged over forgotten bacon that grew cold as their argument heated up. Unthinking, she reached for his hand again, and this time he caught it in his own and held it. His eyes pleaded for help, for wisdom, for some magical solution to their problem. But she had no idea what to give, and so they just sat quietly, watching each other for some sign that it was all right to talk again.
Half an hour later, Jenn was finally directed to a small mobile café purchased especially for the cast members' benefit, where she was told Orli usually was in between filming. But a cursory glance revealed a half-empty bar and Orli not one of the drinkers. She sighed, running her hands through her hair in frustration and wondering where Orli could be.
"Can I get you something, love?" the bartender asked, leering.
"No," she answered distractedly. "I don't drink."
"I have coffee," he offered, eager to make himself a little more money.
"I hate coffee," she muttered childishly, and the bartender gave up with a shrug. "Suit yourself."
Jenn turned and walked out through a heavy metal door that clanged shut behind her, ready to head back to Josh and Michelle and admit defeat for the present. But she couldn't help thinking- perhaps wishing- that maybe Orli was outside, enjoying the weather. Glancing around, she noticed Liv Tyler, recognizing her by her distinctive, rich dark hair, sitting on a checkered picnic blanket and talking to a man she didn't recognize.
Wait- she did know the man with Liv. She was too far away to properly see his face, but she could distinguish him from any other man by the lean, muscular body she was so familiar with. Maybe Orli was sharing lunch with Liv, she thought, trying not to jump to conclusions, but it looked to her as though they were sharing a lot more than lunch, holding hands and staring at each other. Her mouth, unnoticed by her, fell open yet again as Orli reached up to brush a lock of hair away from Liv's face.
She thought perhaps she should announce herself, but when she opened her mouth no sound came out. Abruptly, she pivoted on her heel and stormed off.
"I don't quite know what to tell you," Liv said at last. "All couples fight- it's completely normal. Not fun, I know, but not atypical, either."
"That doesn't make it easier," Orli replied miserably. "We never fight. I mean, we never- we just don't fight."
"I know," Liv acknowledged. "But it's still going to be okay."
"I don't know what it is, you know?" Orli continued, not listening. "Josh and Michelle argue all the time. They just… bicker, as my mother would say. But somehow their arguments always end with him picking her up and kissing her and both of them laughing."
"Whereas when you and Jenn fight, it's with the force of several small volcanoes erupting?" Liv interjected.
He nodded. "Exactly."
She squeezed his hand, which she still held, again, leaning forward to emphasize her point. "It will be fine. I promise."
His feeble attempt of a smile didn't reach his eyes. "Thank you." He reached with his free hand to brush a lock of hair away from her eyes.
Liv suddenly pulled her hand free of his, looking nervous. "What does your wife look like?"
In a flash, Orli had spun around, just in time to see Jenn stomping off in the opposite direction, and from the way she was walking, it was apparent she'd seen them. Orli winced and swore as he thought what it must have looked like. He was on his feet in an instant and headed in her direction when a cameraman stepped in front of him from out of nowhere. "Bloom?" he asked curtly.
"Yes," Orli answered automatically, and cursed himself.
The man jerked his thumb to his right, the opposite direction in which Jenn had run off. "You're wanted over on set sixteen."
"Not now," Orli pleaded, but the man raised an eyebrow. "You're getting paid for this," he snapped. "Way too much, if you ask me. All you have to do is show up and say your lines. Now go."
"I don't really want to talk about this," Jenn snapped that night.
"It wasn't-" he started
"If you try to tell me it wasn't what it looked like," she cut him off, voice dripping ice, "I will- I will hurt you," she finished lamely, having been about to say something with reference to ripping out his intestines and wearing them as a necklace, but she'd decided at the last second that it wouldn't be appropriate.
"We were just talking," Orli said, raising his voice to talk over her protests. "Because, you know, she's actually willing to listen to me." Some part of him, still upset about that morning, and upset that she wouldn't listen to or believe him, made him want to hurt her, and the brief flicker of pain in her eyes told him he had succeeded, perhaps too well. The instant of vulnerability, of Orli's regret of what he'd just said, was fleeting, as the sadness in her eyes was replaced by a furious, uncontainable rage.
"Then go run off and be with her, if that's what you want," she spat, and walked into the bedroom, fuming.
Follow her, follow her, follow her! some part of Orli screamed at him as he watched her walk off. Nah, another part of him said decisively. Go get drunk. Call Liv. Do something really stupid just for fun. Who cares what Jenn thinks?
I do, the first part of Orli protested halfheartedly as his hand whipped out his cell phone and his feet walked him out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.
"C'mon, Orli," Michelle said pleadingly. "It's two in the afternoon."
"Shleeping," he muttered thickly. "Go 'way."
Michelle drew herself up to her full five feet two inches and placed her hands on her hips. "Come on. We have stuff to do, and we want you to come with us."
"No come whish you," Orli declared. "Jenn hatesh me."
"She does not hate you. She's very, very mad at you." Michelle was glaring now. "And considering that you walked in, drunk off your ass, at six in the morning, to sleep on the couch when you have a very comfortable bed with a bright red bedspread and fluffy down pillows, I can't say I blame her."
"I hate red," he countered obstinately.
"Thank you for cutting to the core of the matter," Michelle said snappishly. She reached for his hand. "Get up."
He tried to swat her away but missed, overbalancing and nearly falling off the couch. "Ah!"
Michelle tugged on his hand but fell over instead of pulling him off the couch. "Get up!" she shouted from the floor.
"Ow," he said, wincing. "My head."
"You're damn lucky I'm not violent or I'd be smacking you in the head right now," Michelle told him, still on the ground. All he could see was the top of her dark brunette head. "And then it would really hurt."
"You musht not have the shame idea of 'damn lucky' ash I do," he chanced to say, and was unpleasantly surprised to see her looking madder than ever. "Why are you taking Jenn's shide?" he asked, unfortunately still slurring his words. "You have no idea what I have to shay for myshelf."
Michelle, exasperated, went to put on a pot of coffee, in the probably futile hope that it would make any difference to his condition. She returned to plop down on the couch opposite him.
"Look," she started. "I don't know what happened with you two last night. I don't even know what happened with you two yesterday afternoon. All I know is, you had some stupid disagreement over breakfast yesterday and let it get to this. And it's ridiculous. I'm pissed off with the whole thing. There are no sides. Go make up."
"I tried to explain myself last night and she just walked out on me," he protested.
She met his gaze levelly. "That's how it felt to her when you walked out on her yesterday morning."
"Eh," he muttered unconcernedly. "That wash different." He giggled suddenly. "It was different," he repeated, sounding delighted. "Different. Diff. Rent."
"You're drunk." Michelle watched him dispassionately, a look of disgust deepening on her face.
"Yesh," he agreed pleasantly. "I would have to shay it looksh that way." Without another word, he slumped over, snoring lightly, and did not respond when she threw chivalry to the winds and clouted him on the head.
"Why did you two let some little argument get so out of hand?" Michelle asked conversationally over the coffee she'd intended for Orli.
Jenn flinched, but Michelle held her ground. Jenn was a moment in responding, and even when the words came out they flowed like molasses in wintertime. "They say people who reject change are foolish," she began carefully, and Michelle abandoned her coffee cup, propped her chin on her hands and listened, fascinated. So rarely did Jenn make grand speeches that it was always worth listening to. "But I wish things didn't have to change. I think about us, about you and Josh and me and Orli, and the way things were a year ago. I remember how we did everything together and never argued, how we cherished the little moments. How our favorite memories were days on the beach and throwing each other in the water, not candlelit dinners and movie premieres and marriage proposals. I've always thought it's not worth living if you don't love the small stuff. And I want that back. But nothing's ever going to be the same again. We have a baby. We weren't ready for a baby, and I certainly wasn't ready to take care of one by myself. I feel like we made a mistake, and this situation is throwing everything into a harsh new light."
Michelle, who knew when to remain silent and had listened quietly to Jenn's whole tirade without a single change of expression, eyes gone dark and unreadable, now asked simply, "And what mistake did you make?"
Jenn hesitated. For years to come, when Michelle recalled New Zealand in her mind, this was the image that appeared: Jenn sitting at a table, afternoon sunlight streaming through the windows, casting shadows across her face and lengthening the shadows of her lashes, making her look younger than her twenty-three years; the way her knuckles turned white as she clenched her forgotten coffee cup; the way her voice shook ever so slightly as she ploughed ahead with an admirable degree of certainty. "Getting married."