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You Look Like Hell
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Asking for a Friend Not His Fault
MARISSADays at the office dragged on and on. The clock seemed to have slowed down, hours passing as slowly as an antagonizing snail. One who knew you’d bet on him and was intentionally showing you why it had been a mistake to do so.At the same time as it felt like years had passed since that day in Layton’s office when I broke things off, it also felt like the conversation had happened mere minutes ago.With the stubborn refusal of the hands on the clock to move at any freaking decent speed, I had way too much time to think about the man in the office on the other side of the building. I found myself bracing for when I would finally see him again, both hoping I would and dreading the minute it would happen.When he came to my office earlier, it was all I could do to not burst into tears. I hated the distance between us, the frigid tension. I wished more than anything that things could be different between us.Those few weeks I’d spent being more than just his employee—if not as his
Asking for a Friend Friendly Advice
MARISSADenise and Annie were in the living room when I got home, crafting blobs out of pink playdoh. Coaxing a bright smile onto my lips despite my melancholy, I shrugged out of my coat. “What have you two been up to?”Annie whirled around at the sound of my voice, excitedly and proudly displaying a misshapen figure on her palm. “We’re making dinosaurs. Look at this one, her name is Dippy.”“Dippy?” I asked, crouching down to give Annie a hug and get a closer look at Dippy the wannabe dinosaur. She had what might have been a long neck, a bubble of a body and four balls as feet. No head as far as I could see. Certainly no features that distinguished her as a dinosaur instead of an elephant-in-the-making. “Did you have fun making Dippy?”Annie nodded enthusiastically, giggling as she introduced me to several equally indistinguishable pink dinosaurs. The simple act immediately snapped my head back to those silly fantasies, making me wonder what Layton’s reaction might have been to being
Asking for a Friend Hounding From Beyond the Grave
LAYTONWaking up to an unexpected knock on your door on a Sunday was never fun. No one actually wanted to have people over on a Sunday morning. It added insult to injury that it was early, I rolled over in bed to look at my clock and groaned, it was only seven-fifteen in the fucking morning.Another, more insistent knock sounded just as I burrowed back into my pillow and decided to let whoever was outside rot in their effort to wake me up at this unholy hour of a Sunday. The knocking turned to pounding and finally, I couldn’t ignore it anymore.Irritably getting off my bed, I pulled on a pair of navy drawstring pants and yanked a college t-shirt over my head before I stalked to the door. If one didn’t want to be bothered on a Sunday morning, there was only one thing more annoying than being woken by an incessant pounding on the door. Opening it only to find your late father’s lawyer on your doorstep.Oh, hell no. My mood darkened to the blackest depths of the deepest ocean when I saw
Asking for a Friend Puzzle Pieces
LAYTONFor some reason, my hands started trembling as I clicked in and selected a program to open the video with. Get it the fuck together, Layton.The picture that came up on my screen was of my father’s office in his building in Boston. There was some movement, as if he was setting the laptop or webcam down where he wanted before sliding in behind it.On the walls behind him, I could see several works of art that had moved with him from home to every office he’d ever had. There was a painting of a sailboat sailing into the sunset. Without being able to see it on the video, I knew the name printed on the back of the boat was Jolene. My mother’s middle name.There was another painting of a lion, one he had commissioned from a photo he took while on safari in Africa. A blueprint design of his first jet hung next to the lion.An unexpected wave of emotion hit me in the chest when I thought of those frames sitting in an exhibit dedicated to him that I hadn’t even visited yet. It intensif
Asking for a Friend A Surprise
MARISSA“These pancakes are so yummy.” Annie sighed contently, helping herself to another one from the stack sitting on the kitchen island between us. Tiny spots of blueberry specked the fluffy golden disks. Even if I had to say so myself, this was one of the better batches I’d ever made.Meticulously poring over the recipe and actually paying attention while I was cooking them before Annie woke up definitely paid off. I wanted to do something nice for her and Denise to apologize for the gloominess I had tried, and failed, to hide all weekend.Since they both loved blueberry pancakes, it felt like a good place to start my apology. Annie and I were having breakfast by ourselves for now. Denise called earlier to say she would see us today, even though it was a Sunday and one of her few days off, but to carry on with our breakfast without her.I didn’t know what she was doing, but apparently it was going to take her awhile. Curious and suspicious, I was glad I had already mixed up the pa
Asking for a Friend Brilliant Aviation
MARISSAThe aeronautics museum was a sight to behold. It was a massive, sprawling complex filled with high ceilinged hangars and some of the most incredible feats achieved by man. Denise, Annie and I joined hundreds of other visitors in gaping at the displays of man’s attempts to conquer the very skies above.What I hadn’t known before we arrived was that there was a memorial exhibit dedicated to Jeffrey Bridges himself open until June. My eyes filled with tears when I spotted the sign pointing in the direction of the exhibit and I blinked at Denise, totally unable to keep from throwing my arms around my friend. “You’re truly incredible, one of a kind.”She smirked, returning my hug. “That I am, my dear. But so are you, both of you.”I couldn’t believe my eyes when we stepped into the exhibit. There was almost an exact replica of his office where you entered, complete with several paintings and framed blueprints that sure looked real hanging exactly where they used to be on his walls.
Asking for a Friend Peace Offering
LAYTONThe office was tranquil at this time of the morning. I had a good thirty minutes of peace left before the others started arriving and I intended to use every one of them and even soak up the very last second of that time.I was finally making some progress on the blueprints I spent last week struggling with. Getting that video from my dad was the kick in the ass I needed to just get started.Nothing like being demeaned and basically told how useless you are for a bit of inspiration when you’re in a slump. I snorted quietly to myself. That exact phrase could have been my dad’s motto and I found that really sad.Three and a half hours ago I arrived at the office in the blackest part of the morning, glued my ass to my chair and refused to move until the damn design started coming together. Eventually, my stubbornness paid off and I finally had something of a vision for the tree house.I had promised Craig I’d meet him on another site early this morning, but I was tempted to push o
Asking for a Friend Just an Update
LAYTONMarissa’s shoulders slumped before she squared them again. Uh-oh. Oh no. I know that look.Before I could stop her from saying her piece despite my saying I didn’t have time, she locked her eyes to mine and said confidently, “If I have to wait for you to have time to talk, it’s never going to happen. I want to fix this, Layton.”Fuck. And so she said it anyway. Standing up from my chair, I grabbed my coat hanging from its backrest.If she’d said those words to me weeks ago, I would’ve stayed to hear her out. I would have called Craig and pushed the meeting back to next week if that was what it took. I was humiliated now to think how badly I’d wanted an explanation from her. Back then. Not now.If she came to me a day, two or three, or even four days after pretty much telling me to go fuck myself, I would’ve tried to fix it. As things stood now though, she’d made herself plenty clear that day and every day that followed. “There’s nothing to fix, Marissa.”“But,” she started, as
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