Bourbon and Ray-Bans

I left something behind in that hotel room or perhaps in the sting of that slap. I’d never hit anyone like that before. When I walked out of that hotel for the final time, I felt lighter and breathed easier. I started the convention circuit again and had not a single issue. The panels were fun. I was back to the goofy, fun relationship with Norman that I had cherished years before. And if it meant never speaking the things that needed speaking, so be it. Life was back to normal and I didn’t care about the sacrifices needed to get there.

A major consequence of this change was the returning rumors. Some gossip mags and online fanboards were even speculating that Reedus and I were secretly married. We laughed together and with the fans over this silliness and played it up as much as possible. I’d even taken to wearing a ring on my left finger just to fuck with people. My mom was so pissed.

Season four filming arrived before I could even wrap my head around season three’s ending. By mid-April most everyone was back in Georgia. I had taken Norm’s advice from a year ago and rented a small, cheap house nearer to Senoia than my own loft so I could stop crashing in hotel rooms. Trix loved the huge, sprawling backyard where she could run for hours on end and never stop finding something new to smell. I put a hammock up on the back porch and lived in that thing every chance I got before 12+ hour workdays got in the way.

The fourth season of our little show found Grace and Daryl more than happy to crawl into bed with each other which should have been awkward for Norman and me, but wasn’t. I just mentally went somewhere outside my body and returned once the scene was done. We even laughed several times over how awful my fake sex noises turned out to be and how many takes it required for me to sound like I wasn’t being tortured.

During Comic-Con, Norman and I did several interviews without the other cast members. Our perceived relationship was the big buzz of the year. The fourth season trailer had been released to utter chaos when just a split second clip of Grace and Daryl naked together flashed somewhere in the middle. No one could talk about anything else. They wanted us together on and off screen. The most popular gift I was being given was pages and pages of fanfiction about myself and Norm. It was crazy. Fans begged us to hold hands or kiss for pictures. We played along as much as possible. The AMC bigwigs were more than thrilled at how much of a cash cow we’d become.

San Diego also brought the first rumors of Norman having a girlfriend that wasn’t me. I did my best to ignore these random comments because he hadn’t said anything about her to me and I hadn’t seen any girls hanging around set. I had noticed that he’d been spending several weekends in NYC something he hadn’t done much of in seasons past. But I figured that was mostly a Mingus thing. Maybe I was wrong and he was traveling so much for a girl. He had that right. It didn’t matter at the end of the day, anyway.

Our last night in San Diego, Norman and I made a date for dinner after our last interview of the Con. We’d stayed a day later than everyone else to do some additional press and a pre-season photoshoot for AMC.

I threw on my favorite worn red tshirt and old jeans with gold sandals. It felt so good to dress down for a change. Norman was in the lobby waiting for me when I got there. I could see he’d had the same idea as me and dressed as comfortably as possible. We headed out the front door in companionable silence. A car was waiting for us.

“You smell nice.” It wasn't his usual scent.

“Yeah, it was a gift.”

“Someone didn’t like the way you smelled, huh?”

“I guess.”

“Not exactly a chatty cathy this evening.” He seemed really distant for some reason.

“Sorry, just exhausted. It’s been a busy week. And I’m not as young as I once was.” He stretched his legs out in front of him and I heard his knee pop.

“You’re still as pretty though - maybe prettier in a dirtier, manlier sort of way. You had such a baby face at 30.”

“I think all that aging I didn’t do in my thirties and has more than caught up with me now. Just a bunch of old man damaged goods now.” Now who was having the pity party?

I reached over and pushed my hand down behind him into the back pocket of his jeans. He looked at me wide-eyed and I just smiled back innocently, pulling his pack of cigarettes free. “These things aren’t helping you one fucking bit.” I rolled down the window and threw them out. It was littering for a good cause, right?

“What the fuck?” But his protest had no energy behind it. I knew he’d tried quitting on multiple occasions but hadn’t found success yet. I scooted over next to him, laced my hands around his right arm, and laid my head on his shoulder.

“Please quit. For Mingus and for yourself. I’ll help you.” He sighed and kissed my forehead.

“Maybe.”

The restaurant wasn’t crowded and we ate in privacy. We didn’t talk much, just enjoyed our food. My mind was off in la-la land until I remembered the girlfriend rumors from the past week. I debated whether or not to ask him the truth for several minutes before just spitting it out.

“So those questions about you and some mystery girl? Are they true? You’re dating someone?” I picked at the remains of my salad not sure which answer I wanted to hear more.

“Nah. Just enjoying being single for now.” There was something in the way he said it that sounded like a lie. I didn’t push the issue though.

“What about you? You cheating on me with some young, hot pool boy?” I snorted, choked on my water, and started coughing and gasping for breath. He asked if I was okay, but he was laughing the whole time.

Once I’d recovered, I couldn’t help but laugh too. The idea of me with a pool boy was a bit too much.

“I’ll leave the pool boys for middle-aged cougars with absent husbands. The only relationship I currently have is with an overly energetic pitbull who’s turning out to be the love of my life.” I missed Trix.

On the way back to the hotel, I worked on gathering the courage to apologize for slapping him back in January. It had been bothering me. I knew I should probably just leave it in the past, but I needed some sort of piece of mind. It had been totally out of character.

He was busying texting someone on his phone so I decided to blurt it out while he was distracted. “Sorry about slapping you.” He stopped texting but didn’t look up.

“I had a lot of explaining to do when I got home with your palm imprinted on my face. I tried convincing everyone it had been an accident. Helena knew better, though. Said if I’d hit you, you’d meant it and I’d deserved it. She always takes your side.” My side? How many sides did I need taken?

Back at the hotel, he walked me to my room. When he turned to leave, I grabbed his hand and pulled him back. “Stay awhile?” I had no clue what I was doing.

“Sure.”

I grabbed a bottle of wine out of the minibar and we walked out onto the balcony overlooking the ocean. We each plopped down on a chaise and started passing the bottle back and forth. The sounds of the ocean lulled me into a contentment I hadn’t felt in ages. I turned on my side towards Norman and just watched him. The wind blew his hair all over the place. It had gotten so long. I reached out and brushed some of the strands out of his face.

“Does it bother you being that overgrown?” He took another sip and shook his head. I started to pull my hand away, but he grabbed it and pulled me towards him. I got up and joined him on his chaise. I wrapped my arms around his waist and buried my face in his neck. His fingers got lost in my hair. I was asleep in minutes.