“Lucy, I can’t thank you enough,” she said, alarmed that her eyes were beginning to brim with tears. She willed them to stay where they were because, dammit, she was not going to cry in front of Lucy-frigging-Whitaker.
“Congratulations, Madame Vice-President,” Lucy said.
The call ended several minutes later, Lucy promising to call Megan again next week. In the meantime, Lucy expected Sophia to mentor Megan in the fine art of becoming a vice-president of operations for BeachSoft. When Lucy left the Zoom, Megan and Sophia then came up with a pretty intensive schedule of meetings for the next two weeks to go over everything.
It was finally happening. Megan hadn’t realized the relief she would feel at this news. Ever since being told that she would be heading up operations in New York, she’d been in a holding pattern of sorts: verbally promoted to VP but not actually being a VP yet; a future resident of New York City but having no idea when she’d be relocating. Having these matters settled at last felt as if she were now relieved of a weight she hadn’t known she was carrying.
Her life and career were going through some momentous and exciting changes, she knew. Professionally, she could hardly ask for anything better right now. Vice-president of a large, cutting-edge tech company at the age of twenty-seven. Relocating to one of her favorite cities on Earth—and being able to afford to live there because her new salary, combined with the stock options, was outrageous.
So, why wasn’t she more excited? Why hadn’t she already told Alexa to play her Super Happy Playlist so she could dance around her condo like a silly teenager? Why wasn’t she updating her social media with posts full of smiley-face emojis and pictures of the Brooklyn Bridge and the Empire State Building?
Vanessa.
Leaving Vanessa was not cause for the Super Happy Playlist. Just the thought of leaving Vanessa caused a pang of sorrow to stab Megan’s chest, and the swirl of emotions which were now taking over her being was making her feel lightheaded and dizzy.
She went to the bathroom so she could splash some cold water on her face and hopefully get her mind centered again. How had she let this happen to herself? This was supposed to be a fling! A stupid fling! But, if she was completely honest with herself, she had known—known!—as soon as she walked into La Vida Mocha that first time and made eye contact with Vanessa that she had seen a part of the rest of her life.
Now, she was faced with saying goodbye to all that.
After drying her face with a towel, Megan looked around her master bathroom.
Vanessa’s electric toothbrush was standing on the counter next to Megan’s. Vanessa must have bought a second one, Megan considered, because this morning, at the beach house, Megan had seen Vanessa brushing her teeth with a different one. Odd how Megan hadn’t noticed that Vanessa had even started leaving a toothbrush here. Thinking about it now, she knew she’d seen it here on her counter before. She even remembered looking at it one morning several days ago and wishing that she had found a pink one like it for herself because Vanessa’s looked cute.
Megan looked into the bathtub.
On the shower caddy, three new bottles had taken up residence: Vanessa’s body wash, along with her shampoo and conditioner. There was also Vanessa’s pink and green bath pouf, hanging from a hook on the shower caddy, next to Megan’s green one. And on the side of the tub, a second Venus razor now sat next to Megan’s.
Megan thought for a moment, picturing the last morning she had woken up at Vanessa’s, sometime before the beach house weekend. She remembered brushing her own teeth and then repacking her toothbrush, but she also remembered that the toothpaste she had used, her favorite, had come from a tube she now always left in Vanessa’s medicine chest. Not only that, she also had a bath pouf, body wash and shampoo/conditioner in Vanessa’s shower. She had brought those items over one night some time ago and just left them there without thinking of it. And—and!—she also had started leaving a pack of hair ties and some scrunchies at Vanessa’s. Vanessa had even cleared out a spot in one of the drawers of the vanity for them.
And I have a razor over there too!
Megan stared at Vanessa’s bath pouf, her pulse quickening. She liked that it was hanging there—no, she loved that it was hanging there! She loved that Vanessa had one day thought to herself that it would be a good idea to go to the store and buy a second bath pouf, just to leave here at the condo. And Megan loved, loved, LOVED the idea that Vanessa hadn’t even talked to her about it, that she had just done it! Same with the toothbrush, which Megan was now looking at. No discussion. No asking for permission. No, “Hey, do you mind if I start leaving a toothbrush at your place?”
Nor had Megan sought approval from Vanessa for the stuff she had left at Vanessa’s. Megan had just purchased the items from Walmart one evening, brought the bag over to Vanessa’s and, boom, just like that she had established a beachhead in Vanessa’s place, to use a term her father—a World War II buff—often used.
Vanessa’s cute pink electric toothbrush, standing on the counter next to Megan’s black one, belonged there, but Megan was now faced with one day walking into a bathroom in New York and not seeing that toothbrush.
What do I do?
The only thing she could do now is make the most of the time they had left.
Vanessa was due to come over and stay after closing La Vida Mocha. The funny thing, Megan was thinking now, was that she was actually excited about just sitting and listening to Vanessa tell her about her day at the coffeeshop. This was the first day La Vida Mocha was opening back up to pre-pandemic hours. And that girl Lulu or LouAnn or something like that was coming back to work. Megan wanted to hear all about it. Before they fucked each other’s brains out like always, Megan wanted to simply sit with Vanessa and hear her talk.
Megan suddenly felt short of breath and she had to sit down on the edge of the tub because her legs had gone wobbly.
“Oh my God,” she whined. “What do I do?”
***
Vanessa arrived a little after seven. Megan, hearing Vanessa walking towards the condo, was at the door opening it even before Vanessa had a chance to ring the bell.
Raising an eyebrow, Vanessa said, “Eager, aren’t you? I like it, but I desperately want to shower first.”
Megan couldn’t laugh. She simply stood there, holding the door open, looking at this woman whose toothbrush was upstairs in her bathroom. She was glad to be holding the door because her legs suddenly felt wobbly again. She watched as Vanessa’s face morphed from amused to worried.
“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” Vanessa asked, coming forward and putting her hands on Megan’s shoulders.
“I need to talk to you,” Megan said softly, pulling Vanessa in and closing the door. Holding one of Vanessa’s hands, she led her into the living room. Both women sat close to each other on the couch, the worry on Vanessa’s face more pronounced now.