Bourbon and Ray-Bans

Shutting the laptop, I grabbed my jacket from the back of my chair and headed towards the door. Trix wagged her tail at me hopefully, but I needed a drink more than she needed a pee break.

“Be back soon, girl.” I leaned down and kissed her between the eyes. She trotted off to curl up in her corner behind the sofa. Pulling open the door, I jumped when I was confronted with another person. Norman.

“Fuck, you scared me. Why are you here?” He was just standing there, looking nervous. His hand gripping his rolling suitcase and his backpack resting heavily across his shoulders. Ray-Bans firmly in place.

“My flight to Japan included a layover in Atlanta.” He kept shifting his weight back and forth between his two legs. His left hand playing with an unlit Parliament.

“That’s why you’re in Atlanta, not why you’re at my door.” I looked at him steadily in what I could only assume were his eyes. I was determined not to make this easy for him. It sure as hell hadn’t been easy for me so far.

“I just...I wanted to see you. Talk to you for a minute.” Norm’s voice was low, mimicking the growl he now used for Daryl. But it was also nervous and uncertain. I could feel his fear. If the situation had been any different, I would have been turned on as fuck.

I could feel my lip curl into a snarl, “About what?”

He licked his lips. I liked that little nervous tick more than I should. He tucked the cigarette behind his ear. “This past weekend. The Jingle Ball. Cecilia.”

“Cecilia?” I nearly had to spit out her name.

“Yeah. You know, the girl I was pictured with?” He suddenly pushed passed me and walked into my loft. He stopped inside my kitchen and turned back around to face me. Trix stood up when she saw Norman, her whole body wiggling in excitement. Traitor.

I squared my shoulders at him and continued eye contact. “You mean the child you’re fucking? Why do I want to hear anything about her? I’ve only been hearing about those photos nonstop for the past 48 hours. Phone calls, emails, texts, tweets - the whole goddamn world seems to think where you stick your dick has something to do with me.” My fingers were squeezed into fists and I could feel my nails stabbing at my palms. I really needed to go to my zen place if I didn’t want to come off as the jealous lovesick best friend I always hated in those stupid movies.

Norman’s voice softened at my reaction. “I’m just...I”m sorry, B. I saw some of the things people were saying online. Why the fuck are they bringing you into my shit?” He took off the sunglasses, tossing them on the counter. Mentally, I gave him points for appearing genuinely pissed off on my behalf.

Letting out a sigh and some of my own frustration, I put my hands on my hips and lost the snarl. “Because all the stupid delusional fangirls seem to think I’ve let them down. That somehow you sleeping with a 20-year-old fame whore instead of me equates to the end of the world, the end of their fantasies, and the end of their believing in all things holy and Norman. But it’s more than that.”

“What is?”

I just stared at him for a second. Did he really not understand? “All the news coverage. I’m now the laughing stock of Hollywood. Did you see the People Magazine online headline this morning? Norman’s New Girl: Model Cecilia Singley All But Silences The Brodie Rumors. Closely followed by: Brodie’s Emotional Breakdown: People Magazine Has The First Exclusive Details.” My anger was flaring up again.

“Jesus Christ, B. I never meant for that shit to happen. I should have told you about Celi.” He began to stroke his year old scruff. He was back to being nervous. I could see his eyes shift to the Ray-Bans.

But now I was nervous, too. I turned my back to him and walked towards the sofa. Trix eyed me anxiously, not fully understanding what was going on but knowing I was tense. “Forget it. It doesn’t matter. Just go to Japan or wherever the fuck.”

He took a couple of steps toward me. I stood up straighter. “Wait.”

“What?”

His hand reached out, fingers lightly pinching my elbow. “About Celi. How...what do you think about her? Us? Do you think I’m crazy?”

The touch, although slight, had muddied my thoughts. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m not sure why it matters what I think. You’re a grown ass man, Norman. You can make your own decisions no matter how ridiculous.”

“So you think I’m being ridiculous?”

I spun around. My voice come out high pitched and entirely un-Brodie like. “Honestly? I’m not all that surprised. You have a type - always have, always will. And you still believe you’re 30. But I’m not just going to pretend that dating someone six years older than your own kid is cute. It’s not. You’re just three years away from being a legal pedophile.” Jesus, now I was just puking jealousy all over the damn place. This wasn’t going to end well. But I had spoken the truth, hadn’t I?

Anger flashed in his eyes. The blue darkening. He took a step backwards. “She’s not a fucking child.”

“Oh, really? So if she was your own daughter you’d be fine with her dating a man your age?”

“Sure, if she loved him.”

Had he really just used the ‘l’ word? “Bullshit. And love? Is that what this is? You love her; she loves you?” Something inside of me was slipping. Tears were a thing about to happen. I had to find a way to end this conversation and get him out of my house, out of Atlanta, and out of my life, at least briefly.

Silence. The tension choked me. Trix barked and I jumped. Quickly, I walked towards the open door and turned around to face his back.

“Just go, Norman. Just go. I don’t have anything left to say. And nothing I care to hear.” I looked through him, around him. Trix lumbered over to his side. He patted her lightly on the head, turned around, and stalked out of the loft. I closed the door and marched into the kitchen headed straight for the bourbon. I paused abruptly.

They were right beside the bottle.

Those stupid fucking Ray-Bans.