Abigail
Monday
24 October 2016
Everytime it comes on the bulletin, I watch it. Over and over, and over again I have tortured myself with the sounds of Liz and I's lovemaking. I know every line, every moan, every shuffle of that news feed. I've plotted out the catch phrases, noticed the talking points that they're framing it under.
Fox News thinks the devil has entered the capitol and God's trumpets will soon blow. CNN oscillates between pretending to be serious News not interested in TMZ fodder but has organised analysis of all the ways this tape could be scrutinised. Was it an invasion of privacy? Does the public have a right to know? Are these the antics of a law abiding citizen they ask.
I've refreshed my Twitter, I've seen all the memes - with new ones reloading every second; and I've rehashed every scenario in my head of that night.
It was at the beginning of last year. I remember because of how ridiculous I thought it was that we attended a gala in full one-shouldered, diamante gowns while the men were in warm suits. I'd only been back from Glasgow for a few weeks and hadn't seen anyone except Hal in those few days.
I'd gotten dressed, gone to the gala, seen Liz in the bathrooms, threatened her, and then she'd showed up on my doorstep like a lost lustful puppy.
But the thing I remember the most was Liz's trust that day. Her complete surrender to her feelings amidst her confusion. That day I knew that Liz saw me.
It was beautiful.
And now everybody could experience it for a five minute thrill online.
Dammit! Someone had had that for almost two years.
Was it to get back at me?
My father? No, it was before my father had run for president so what, was it Elizabeth? Why now?
I've been banned from seeing her. Obviously. Banished to the shadowland of scandal. Left to stew in a cesspool of deceit and anxiety. Something my father was all too happy to announce as I found him blending into my couch last night.
"We can't risk this getting out Abigail."
He didn't have to warn me. I knew what it meant. I knew as soon as I clicked play and felt my voice crawl across my skin and awaken my flesh. I was worried about Elizabeth more than anything, it's why I sent Carlson over aa her escort. Because knowing my lover she was going to go out armed with nothing but the might of the law behind her without realising that the media doesn't care.
I was safe. My name wasn't the one peppered all over the recording like melting candy floss.
Elizabeth Masey, shut up and fuck me I'd said.
Shut up and f- Jesus Christ Abigail was that supposed to be sexy? Does that work for you? Is anyone into that, urgh what was I thinking.
The sound of a new catchy polyphonic trill drags me out of the internal self-deprecating monologue I am about to start.
"Liz."
"Hi." My lover's smiling baritone eases my jumbled insides erasing my fears. Whatever I'd said and however I said it, Liz would've liked it I'm sure.
"How are you?" I ask.
"Good. I'm good -considering."
"Want me to come over?" I tease.
She chuckles easily: "I'm afraid if I say yes you would."
"In a heartbeat."
I'm glad to hear her sigh on the other side is happy. It's present.
"Thank you Abigail...for Carlson." She clarifies at the end.
"You're welcome Elizabeth."
The silence between us is comfortable. Smiling like idiots. I can feel her swivel in her chair.
"Guess this means we're going cold turkey for a while huh?" I ask.
"Yeah, it'll blow over soon though. Next week."
"D'you think?"
"Yeah, its just sex Ab, the media will move on."
"Oh baby, we do not sound like - just -sex." My sass earns me another throat rumbling chuckle from Elizabeth. One that ends off in a wistful exhale.
"God I miss you." She says.
Unexpectedly my heart decides to exceute some acrobatics and tickle me from the inside. I move the phone away for a silent screaming jig to release my giddyness.
"Ditto." I smile into the phone.
There being nothing more to say Liz bids me goodbye with a longing 'alright then I should get back to work.'
"Goodbye Sheriff." I say and kmow that everything will be alright.
