December 23, 2020
It's the low groan that wakes me up. Not my own, but the one from the oversized blonde surfer laying on the bed above me. How in the hell did I end up sleeping on the floor? My brain takes a second to supply the details of last night, sleep still holding tenaciously to me.
My night definitely didn't go as planned. Something is poking me in the side, adding to my general uncomfortableness. Sweeping my hand down my side, I find the offending object, blearily opening my eyes to stare at the red notebook in my hand.
Flashback
Instead of heading home after a walk, to get all my caffeinated energy out, I found myself in Times Square. I stood on the sidelines, my eyes closed, listening to the music. I had promised myself that I wouldn't seek Veronica out, but the temptation proved too great. I didn't know if she was one of the voices, but I kept fixating on one voice among the many. It matched the voice in my head when I read her words.
When that voice began a solo, I couldn't keep my eyes closed anymore, desperate for a glimpse of the angel singing. Unfortunately, there were too many people and whoever was singing wasn't tall enough to see over the myriad of listeners swaying in front of me.
I stayed until the troupe finished, hoping to see her. I knew I would know her the second I saw her, the connection I felt to her so strong. My plans were dashed again when the troupe broke up and Van called me over.
He handed me the notebook, wishing me a Merry Christmas. I glanced around, trying to find the angel voiced singer, but everyone was a stranger. Van noticed my roving eye.
"She already left." His eyes were kind as my face fell in disappointment. I was so close. It was for the best, I didn't want to find her through cheating, anyway.
I made my excuses to Van, promising to catch up with him about my story after the holiday. Armed with the notebook and her angelic voice in my head, I headed towards my apartment, ready to ensconce myself for the night and read what she had written.
The best laid plans though often go awry, and this was no different. I didn't even make it home before my cell started beeping with a call. Stopping by a closed store, I leaned against the wall to answer the call.
"Dude." Dick's words were more slurred than normal. Despite my worry about Dick's degenerating sobriety, I groaned, wondering what he had been doing. Last night he seemed like he was taking a turn for the better.
"Dick, what's up?" I tried to keep my tone even, already knowing I wouldn't get a chance to read Veronica's words for some time yet. Dick frustrates me, but he's stood by me through a lot and I can't abandon him when he needs me. It's just not in my makeup to ignore a friend in need and honestly, until beginning this conversation with Veronica, Dick was all that I had and I'm all he has. We're brothers in every way that matters.
"Need you to come get me." I can barely make out his words. He sounded like he's passing in and out of consciousness. Is he on something more?
"Well, where are you?" I brace myself to have to run to some club and drag his drunk ass out.
I could hear him shouting at someone, asking where he is. His voice sounded despondent when he came back on the line.
"39th Street Precinct." Shit, what did he do that he's sitting in jail?
"I'm on my way. Sit tight." I chuckled at my own words, hearing the hysterical edge. Has this really been what my life has turned into? Playing babysitter for a man-child? Yet, I am terrified that he's spun completely out of control and there's no way to pull him back from the ledge. It was Dick, so I doubt it was more serious than a drunk and disorderly charge. He probably got naked again. He has a weird aversion to clothes when he's drinking.
The station was eerily silent, but I guess it was a weekday a few days before Christmas. I went up to the police officer manning the desk, and explained my reason for being there. After typing some stuff into the computer, he told me to have a seat.
I contemplated reading Veronica's latest message while I waited, but a police station after midnight seemed like a terrible portent. I couldn't help touching it where it hid in my jacket, reassuring myself that it was still there.
A tall, distinguished man came in and greeted the desk sergeant with familiarity.
"What did she do now?" His voice was smooth. Hollywood would love that voice.
"Nothing too bad this time. She only slapped the guy when he grabbed her ass." I chuckled, wondering who this feisty woman was. I couldn't blame her for slapping someone if they grabbed her ass without her permission. Seems like a reasonable reaction to me.
"Must have been a new guy. None of the regulars would have gotten their panties in a twist over that. You got anything else for me tonight? My date cancelled." He winked at me and I couldn't help the answering smirk on my face.
The desk sergeant followed his gaze towards me and nodded. "Yeah, that one is waiting for his friend, but they still need to arraign him. He's so trashed, he can barely remember his own name, let alone call a lawyer. You want to help the kid out?"
The tall man considered before nodding. He came over, a hand out as he introduced himself.
"Cliff McCormack, Esquire. I guess I'll be representing your friend tonight. What can you tell me about him?"
I shook his hand, noting that he had a firm handshake, no limp wrists for this man.
"Logan Echolls. I don't know what Dick did. I just got a call that he was here and asking me to come get him."
"Well, I guess it's time for me to do my magic. Just have a seat while I take care of things. Enjoy the hospitality." He gestured towards a decrepit coffee maker that looked to contain sludge. I shuddered at the thought of ingesting that toxic waste.
I settled back into the uncomfortable waiting chairs and hoped this didn't take too long. My caffeine buzz had long since worn off, and I felt exhaustion weighing down like an iron blanket on my body.
Another hour passed before Cliff came back out.
"So the good news is they'll release your friend shortly. The bad news is that he must appear in court next week. It probably won't be too bad, likely a steep fine, but he swears he can pay anything." Cliff gave me an appraising look, taking in my expensive coat and more expensive than necessary dark wash jeans. "I'm choosing to take his word on that. Here's my card, have him call me when he's sober and we'll work everything out."
"Thanks. Um, what did he do?" I clutched the card in my hand in worry, crumpling it a bit.
"Ironically, he grabbed the ass of another client of mine. She took offense, and he ended up deciding the proper response was to remove his clothes and show her what a better dancer he was." His eyes twinkled with merriment and I chuckled at the thought of Dick doing one of his drunken strip teases.
"Well, it could have been worse. Does he have his clothes by any chance?" Having to drag a half naked, drunk Dick home was not a thought I relished.
"Yeah, the bouncer collected them and gave them to the arresting officer before they hauled him here. Fill out some paperwork with the Sergeant there and you can have your friend back. Have a Merry Christmas." Cliff gave the desk sergeant a jaunty salute before leaving.
A heavy sigh escaped while my shoulder hunched. Paperwork at two in the morning, just what I always wanted. Merry Fucking Christmas to me.
End Flashback
It was nearly five in the morning by the time I drug a drunk Dick back to the apartment, getting him settled into his bed. Worried that he would choke on his own vomit in the night, I made a nest on the floor, but the exhaustion overtook me.
Now awake, I want nothing more than to get a quick shower, washing the stench of the police station from me before finally reading what Veronica wrote. There's an urgency to my morning ablutions, like I'm afraid that time is wasting, and if I don't read her words soon, she'll completely disappear.
I put a pot of coffee on, then pour myself a cup, fixing it just how I like before settling down on the couch. Dick is still sleeping in the other room, snoring loudly. At least I know he's still alive. A shiver runs down my spine as I open the notebook.
My face flushes with anger as I read about Piz. I have a powerful urge to hunt him down and beat him to a bloody pulp for the damage he's inflicted on this amazing woman. Her fear is like a dagger to my heart, it's palpable through the pages and I feel it. I have to keep reminding myself that she didn't give up. She pushed through her fear and sang.
She did it for me, though it terrified her, she did it. She says she's not a strong woman, but if that's not strong, I don't know what is. No one knows better than me how debilitating fear can be.
The words pour out of me in a torrent, making my normally neat handwriting sloppy.
Veronica. You are so much more than what you think. You sang. You stepped out of the shadows and sang. I'm so proud of you.
I have a confession; I was there. I know it's cheating to use a place I know you'll be at to try to find you, and I don't think I did see you. I feel like I would know it the second I did, the connection I feel to you is so strong. But I heard your voice. It was like an angel from the heavens.
I think you're selling yourself short. You are a princess of the best kind. You're like Princess Leia, Rapunzel from Tangled, and Mulan all rolled into one. You're a badass princess who can do anything! No need for a prince to save you. Not only will you save yourself, you'll kick ass the entire time doing it.
I may not be a prince, but I still want to protect you, be by your side while you rise to the top. I want to hurt this Piz guy for making you believe that you were anything other than an amazing woman. He's clearly a fucking moron if he thought he could do better than someone like you.
When you didn't show the first night, I thought for sure that I had scared you away. I know I'm messy and I've been hurt before too, but you did show. I can't tell you what that means to me that you put aside your fears because you care what I think.
I would have continued this game of ours no matter what. I hope you understand that. Nothing you say would change my mind. I haven't even met you and you're the first person I think of when I wake and the last person I think of when I sleep.
I'm just glad I haven't scared you away.
Can we meet? I know it's cheesy, but would you meet me for a Christmas Eve party? It's being held at the Upperwest. Do you know it? It's this cool speakeasy type club. It's not too loud. I'll leave your name at the door. Please?
You said you're hiding in baggy clothes, but I've learned that the clothes don't make the woman, the woman makes the woman. Still, I grew up with a mom who believed that clothes were like armor and wearing her finest was her way of pulling her confidence close to her heart.
If you agree to meet me, go to Bergdorfs tomorrow. Pick out anything you want. Find the outfit that makes you feel like your sexiest self. I'm not saying to dress sexy, I don't want you to think that's what I want from you, although if that happens, I'm not opposed. I just meant, find something that makes you feel like you feel sexy and confident. Find something that you are ready to take on the world in. Don't worry about the money, just tell them Logan sent you and it'll be taken care of. Please let me do this for you. You deserve something special for stepping up.
Until we meet, Logan.
Glancing at the time, I realize I need to hurry if I'm going to drop off the notebook before The Strand closes; it's too late for Veronica to retrieve it today. I'm counting on Wallace to tell her it's there again. Downside of not getting to sleep until nearly 5 in the morning is that I slept most of the day away.
I imagine Veronica is anxious, waiting for me to reply to her message. I want to be sure that she gets my message in plenty of time.
I'm almost giddy by the time I put the notebook back in our place. I'm going to meet this girl tomorrow.
For the first time in a long time, I'm actually looking forward to Christmas.
The oven has never looked cleaner. All day I've been filled with nervous energy, which I've channeled into scrubbing the entire apartment from top to bottom. When I take a break, my mind fills with doubts. Did I tell Logan too much? Will he still want to continue this? What if he thinks I'm a weak person or too clingy? Guys don't like clingy, do they?
I know this is Piz's voice in my head, but I can't shut the thoughts out. Logan is the first guy I've felt comfortable around, like I could be myself with in a very long time. I haven't even met him and already he's becoming someone I need.
That thought scares me because what if it's all a lie like my entire relationship with Piz was? What if I'm not enough for him? I wasn't enough for Piz clearly. If the sum total of who I am was enough, he wouldn't have felt the need to constantly try to change me or cheat on me.
This thing with Logan feels so real, but we've never even met. Am I putting unrealistic expectations on a stranger? But it doesn't feel like he's a stranger. He feels like he's the other piece of my soul. I hear his voice in his words and I know that together we can be amazing.
As I go to clean the coffee table for the third time, Mac finally loses it. All day she's been working quietly, the calm eye of the storm that is my obsessive cleaning.
"Veronica, fucking go get the damn notebook already. You're driving yourself crazy and you're taking me with you." Mac rarely loses her temper, but she is formidable when she does. My mouth gapes open in shock. I know I'm delaying, but what if? I shut off that line of thought. Mac is right, I'm driving myself crazy when there's a simple solution.
She smiles when I drop the cloth I was using and drag on my coat, not even bothering to change my clothes.
"Good luck." Her words follow me out into the hall.
I hurry down to Strand. Wallace is off today so the only way to find out if Logan has left the notebook is to check for myself. It's already getting dark when I arrive. My steps are hesitant while I walk to the sci-fi section, a breath I didn't know I was holding escaping when I spot the familiar red spine in our spot.
Gathering it close, I practically sprint back to the apartment and lock myself in my room, not even stopping to say hi to Mac and Wallace, who are watching TV in the living room. Curled up on my bed, with his santa hat on my lap, I read his message again and again. I'm warmed by his words, but his offer to meet at a club no less has me nearly hyperventilating.
What if he doesn't like what he sees? A high-pitched noise claws up my throat, surprising me. Mac and Wallace rush into my room. Mac has my taser in her hand, her eyes wild as she looks for the threat. Wallace immediately drops to the bed, putting his arms around me.
"What's wrong?" His voice is concerned, and he's out of breath from his dash to get in here and protect me from whatever threat there was.
"He wants to meet." Mac chuckles, lowering my taser and dropping beside me on the bed. I wrap my arms around my knees, trying to make myself as small as possible.
"So what's wrong with that? Wasn't that the whole point of this game?" Mac's voice is quiet, but there's no hint of judgement.
"I hadn't really thought that far. I guess I didn't really think I'd find anyone who I'd even want to play this game with." My vision is blurry and I blink away tears, but it goes back to blurry as more fill my eyes.
"Veronica, all you've talked about for the past few days is Logan. I don't get it, but you obviously like him. Just go for it, girl." Wallace wipes a tear away. His kind brown eyes offer support.
"I don't know. It's a club, and what if I'm not who he wants? What if I'm not enough?" I haven't told them everything about Piz, but Mac was around enough to know that he was constantly putting me down. There's only so many times you can hear negative things about yourself before you start to believe they must be true.
"Then fuck him. If he can't see what an amazing, beautiful woman you are, then he doesn't deserve you." Mac puts her hand over mine, squeezing gently. Wallace nods in agreement. "But I think he's going to take one look at you and think he died and went to heaven."
At my quizzical look, they both laugh lightly. "You're a fucking hottie, V." Wallace's words bounce around my head, trying to find purchase. I shake my head, automatically disagreeing.
"Oh my god, I'm going to kill Piz if I ever see him again." Mac mutters. "Veronica, you are a sexy woman. You might hide it under your hoodies and sweaters, but I've known you since we were kids and all the guys and a lot of the girls stopped and turned their heads when you walked down the halls of high school. On top of that, you're one of the kindest people I know."
"Logan offered to pay for me to pick out an outfit for tomorrow. He told me to pick one that makes me feel sexiest."
"At the very least, get some free clothes out of it." Mac waggles her eyebrows, making me laugh.
"Alright, enough. This is a problem for tomorrow. I think we decided that tonight was a movie marathon. Are we starting with Love, Actually?" I uncurl my body, standing from the bed, trying to change the subject. I need to think about it before making a decision. I foresee a sleepless night ahead of me.