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35. Blur
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The morning sun came beaming into the apartment. Breathing easily, I rolled over to grab for the Joker, but the space next to me was empty. My eyes groggily opened to affirm my vacant arms. Sitting up, I rubbed my face and eyes. Breathing in again, I rolled out of bed and hobbled into the bathroom to shower. It was always a gamble waking up next to him—I'd never know if I would be waking up alone. At this point in our deranged relationship, it didn't really matter to me. As I made my way back into the bedroom from my shower, I imagined he was out meeting with the mob or something like that. I noticed his clothes were no longer carelessly strewn on the bed and floor, as they had been when we finally drifted off to sleep. Peering into the mirror at myself, something on the dressed caught my eye. I looked down to see a note:
Thanks for the good time last night; was a good early Christmas present. – J
I chuckled at the note. He wasn't the most romantic in the world, but he somehow always knew what to say and how make me smile. He knew how to 'put a smile on that face' of mine. I chuckled at the thought—hearing his words echoing in my ears. I towel dried my hair and pulled on a pair of jeans and a sweater. I decided that today I was going to put up and decorate the tree, and maybe make some cookies too. Cookies certainly couldn't hurt the Christmas spirit—I mean, food is always the key to every man's heart—you have to get to their heart by going through their stomach. I directed my attention to the living room area and the tree resting against the wall. Hm, I wondered if he had a tree stand—this was going to be quite the challenge if he didn't. I began a thorough search of the apartment, looking for any kind of tree stand or anything that might be able to support the weight of a Christmas tree. Perhaps I hadn't thought this through enough! I hadn't even anticipated needing Christmas tree supplies. I was too blinded by my obsession for Christmas to even consider such mechanical difficulties.
After scouring the apartment for nearly an hour, I came across a device that the Joker himself must have built. I wasn't exactly sure what it was or what its purpose was, but it seemed to hold the tree up from falling over. I just hoped it wasn't a device for killing people—what irony that would be.
Once the familiar emblem of Christmas was in place, I began my search for things to decorate. I wanted nothing more than for the apartment to be decorated by the time the Joker got back—I needed to see the expression on his face. Regardless of whether or not he was happy about it, his face would be priceless. I found a few things that I could put on the tree, but not enough to make it look really nice. I decided to quickly run out of the apartment to the nearest convenient store to get some Christmas lights and a few ornaments to put on the tree. I darted faster than lightening out of the apartment, down the countless levels of stairs and out onto the street. I jogged with great care down the salted sidewalk, the cold air bringing tears to my eyes. When I finally got to the local CVS I gathered up the first few boxes of lights, ornaments and decorations I saw and ran for the door, not even considering that I needed to exchange money for the decorations. The Joker really had me not even thinking twice about my criminal behavior.
Once I was back inside the apartment, I decided to get started on my cookies and pop some popcorn. I decided I would make a popcorn garland chain like they used to do in the movies. I quickly then ran into the bedroom and retrieved the radio and tuned in to the radio station playing Christmas tunes. I couldn't possibly bake cookies and decorate in the eerie silence—I needed some festive music. I blasted the music while I baked and began threading the popcorn.
"Feliz Navidad, feliz navidad!" I sang in my terrible Spanish accent as I danced around the kitchen. I pulled the cookies from the oven and placed them onto a large plate. Still singing, I spooned more cookie batter onto the baking sheet and placed it into the oven.
"Prospero año y felicidad!" I sang as I shuffled into the living room area to string some of my popcorn garland onto the tree. As I hung the garland, I popped a few pieces of popcorn into my mouth, still mumbling along with the song.
"It's time for some lights!" I sang aloud to myself as I ripped open the packages of lights and strung the around the tree. Suddenly, the timer on the oven went off. I ran into the kitchen to take out my second batch of cookies. I placed them onto another plate and spooned more batter onto the cookie sheet. I hadn't realized how many batches of cookie's I'd get from that batter. Once the third batch of heaven was in the oven, I skipped back into the living room and placed the new ornaments onto the tree, followed by my second strand of popcorn garland. I took a step back from the tree and smiled. It was looking so nice. I decided to plug in the lights. The tree glowed in a variety of colors—perfect, I thought, for the Joker.
"Santa baby, slip a sable under the tree…for me," I strung up my final stand of popcorn garland. Again, the timer on the oven beeped; I sachet-ed into the kitchen to check the cookies.
"Santa cutie, fill my stocking with a duplex and cheques—sign your X on the line!" I belted along with Madonna as I opened the oven, bent over to pull the cookies from the heat.
"Cheques, hm? I thought all you wanted for Christmas was me," the Joker said from behind.
"Holy shit!" I shrieked, surprised by his unannounced arrival. I shut the oven and placed the cookie sheet on the stove. I spun around and threw my oven mitt at him. "You scared the shit out of me!"
His lips simply curled into a smile and then parted into laughter. "And you're surprised by this?"
"Yeah—well, it's almost Christmas—you really should try to be less scary," I responded with a small grin.
"If I can't be scary on Christmas, what am I allowed to be?" he griped, almost mocking my statement. I rolled my eyes at his tone and reached out for a cookie. I held the cookie out to him.
"For starters, maybe you should eat a cookie—something sweet will do you good," I stated as I handed the warm cookie to him.
"I've been told to only eat cookies with milk," he replied with a smirk. Was the Joker flirting with me? I chuckled at his response and shook my head. Good thing there happened to be milk in the fridge from a couple of days ago. I reached into the fridge and pulled out the carton and held it up for him.
"Good thing we have milk then," I smirked. Standing in the kitchen, the Joker just licked his lips, raised his eyebrows and kept on grinning back at me. I pulled a glass from the cabinet and poured the milk. I handed the glass to him, along with one of the plates of cookies.
"Happy now? You have your milk and cookies," I responded with a tint of sarcasm.
"Elated," he replied with scorching sarcasm.
"Oh come on! It's milk and cookies! You must be the only person on planet Earth who detests milk and cookies! Now go sit by the tree and eat the fucking cookies!" I exclaimed pointing to the doorway the led to the living room. The glow from the tree was unmistakable. The Joker's lips parted again into erupted laughter.
"I fucking mean it! Get your smiley ass out there and enjoy the Christmas tree and cookies I spent all day baking!" I exaggerated. He stood still, trying to control his laughter, but the smirk on his face would not fade.
"Okay, you better get in that living room, or I will join you and cuddle with you under a blanket—and we both know how much you love to cuddle," I threatened.
"Oh Giada! You really are a joy this time of year! I wish it was always Christmas for you—maybe we can devise a way to stick your thought processes to this time of year—you're so full of animosity and delight simultaneously," he giggled as he took a step forward towards me.
"…and? I mean every word—don't test me," I murmured through clenched teeth as I narrowed my eyes.
"And what? There's no need for you to make sense to anyone else—it's what a love about you," he responded in a low, almost seductive voice. My expression melted instantly and my heart began racing inside my chest.
"Excuse me?" I asked finally, once he had turned away from me, heading out into the living room. He spun around, still grinning.
"I'm a man of my word," he replied, trying to balance the milk on the plate of cookies. I was in a sudden daze. He said he loved something about me. I was getting closer to him actually saying he loved me. I didn't know what else to say to him. He just raised his eyebrows and spun around and headed into the living room. Everything was turning into a blur. I couldn't contain the excitement pounding from within. My stomach was doing somersaults and my heart was ready to escape from it cavity. It felt like it had been a while since the Joker last made me feel physically pathetic. Maybe he did want me to sit with him. Maybe he did secretly want to cuddle with me by the tree and eat cookies. A dreamy smile slowly slid across my lips as I turned back towards the oven. As if in a dream, I slowly slid the cookies off the baking sheet and placed them onto the plate with the second batch of cookies.
Where the hell was I? I could barely make sense of the situation. The Christmas music was blaring; the apartment was filled with the sweet aroma of freshly baked cookies; the dim glow of the Christmas tree filled the living room; the absolute love of my life actually was sitting by the tree eating cookies like I told him to—I couldn't believe that. Maybe he wasn't sitting by the tree eating the cookies. Maybe he flushed them down the toilet. I thought I would check. I glided stealthily over to the trashcan and peeked out at the living room. From my peripheral, I saw that he was actually sitting quietly by the tree in the old tattered leather chair, balancing the plate of cookies on his knee, the glass of milk dangling securely in his other hand over the arm of the chair. My heart skipped another beat. I turned away from the trash and slipped back over by the oven. I couldn't help but close my eyes.
I remembered the first time I ever stepped foot into his apartment. The overwhelming smell of potato chips and peanut oil that lingered on his purple jacket had been subtle but enormously present in the apartment. The rooms were all dark, the kitchen was cold and every room had some element of being bizarrely, chaotically organized. I loved everything about the apartment, but now it was strangely opposite—not quite opposite because the apartment was still the same—but in this moment, the kitchen was warm; the smell of chips and peanut oil was replaced by freshly baked cookies; the darkness was overcome by the dimly lit Christmas tree. It was like a dream. I somehow managed to keep things in chaotic organization. The tree was decorated and it looked pretty, but it was far from what others would consider beautiful. It contained both food and delicate ornaments—a paradox I think the Joker actually enjoyed. He always seemed to like the paradoxical nature of fragile and ordinary. I think that was why he was so intrigued by me.
I decided to get his actual opinion on the decorating of the tree. I waltzed into the living room as if in slow motion. Everything was still a blur to me.
"Ah, so you have decided to join me!" he exclaimed with a gleam in his eyes. The smile on his face brought only a similar smile to mine.