BUILD ME A BUBBLE BATH
I walk into the room first, pulling Josh by the hand behind me. He presses the switch, and a dim light fills the room. Ambient.
I toss my bag onto the king bed and slip off my heels. Physically and mentally, I am relieved. I feel myself exhale a breath I didn't know I was holding in all night. So the year-in-the-making reunion was survivable. In fact, it was sort of pleasant.
As pleasant as possible.
I couldn't breathe at times, and at other times wished I wasn't, but still. Seeing Brooks for the first time in over a whole year, since Trix and Travis's Floridian wedding, was cathartic. Sure, it helps that I have Josh with me. I'm not sure I could have saved face if I showed up here and saw him and Cece and her dazzling boulder-finger-rock all without any back-up of my own.
And of course, against all odds, I like her. I don't know if that makes this all better or worse.
"I'm beat," Josh says, laying across the foot of the bed. "And super jet-lagged."
"Same. It's finally hitting me." I plop down beside him and kiss his cheek. "Good thing we can sleep in tomorrow."
"What time are we meeting at the park?"
"Like 11 AM-ish," I say, yawning. Thank God Lauren isn't insisting on a group breakfast.
I glance at the alarm clock on the bedside. 12:02 AM.
I shouldn't even be tired considering it's only 9 PM back in Seattle. I blame all the excitement of the day. I blame the third sake bomb Cece insisted we take.
"Meh. I smell like sushi," I say, scrunching up my nose at my hair.
"Shower?" Josh asks, nudging my arm with his nose.
"Hmm," I consider. Call me lazy, but I don't plan on washing my hair tonight. Bath and clip will have to work. "Let's go bath."
"Bath?" Josh repeats with a smile. "Can I get you anything else? Bubbles? Champagne?"
"They're both the same," I joke sleepily, watching Josh stand from the bed and head towards the bathroom. "Go build it."
"Build it?" Josh laughs at my drunken dazed self.
"Mhmm," I sigh into the side of the comforter. "Build me a bubble bath."
I hear the water turn on and Josh reemerges in the doorway.
"Okay, laying the foundation." Josh says, sitting on the edge of the bed.
He pulls me up to his lap and strokes the loose hair out of my face. It's so soothing listening to the running water and hum of the air conditioning; I could almost fall asleep here. I could almost forget that in another room in this very hotel another couple is doing this same thing.
"Let me see if it's ready," Josh says, sliding out from beneath me.
Seconds later he's back in the room and rummaging through the mini bar under the TV. I didn't even know hotels had mini bars anymore.
"They've got Veuve splits. These will have to do." Josh smirks, holding up two perfectly chilled splits of champagne. "And for a measly $42 each."
"Steal," I joke.
Five minutes later I am undressing, dropping my clothes onto the bathroom floor and crawling into the bubbling tub. I wedge myself between Josh's legs, resting my back against his chest. Sweet vanilla invades my senses.
The bubbles pop one by one just like all my resolve. Josh traces his fingers along my forearms and down to my wrist. He kisses each shoulder blade like he loves them as much as me.
"Always love this tat," Josh mumbles against my skin.
It's a good thing he cannot feel me tense in the water. I know the tattoo he's talking about –the one I got last summer. One week after I tore up my Paris ticket.
It's a bold black Q over a dainty red heart.
I got it as a reminder. That if I couldn't be the queen of anyone else's heart, at least I could be queen of my own.
"What made you get it?" Josh asks. One year of dating and he's never asked this before.
"It just –was my always my favorite card." I shrug, dispersing the bubbles.
"And you love Wonderland." He offers.
"I do, in fact, love Wonderland." I laugh.
Talk about through the Looking Glass.
"Maybe I'll get the king," Josh says behind me.
"Ha-ha, funny."
"You think I won't?" Josh asks, offended.
"You aren't a tat kind of guy. That's what I love about you."
"That's it? That's what you love?" He jokes.
I nod, hoping he doesn't press further. He doesn't. He never does. Another thing I love.
"I like your friends," Josh says.
"Yea? Seal of approval?" I tease.
"They're all great. You all seem..." He trails off.
I know he can't find the word for it. It's been 12 years and I still haven't found it.
"I know." I nod.
"You do?" He laughs beneath me.
"Mhmm." I sigh.
"You're different with them." He slides his arm across my shoulder blades.
"How so?" I ask, turning to peek at him.
"Not sure. It's almost like they bring out an old you I've never met." Josh shrugs.
"Do you like the old me you've never met?" I ask.
He nods, his eyes boring into mine. "I am almost certain I'd like every version of you."
Josh kisses me and we fall into a champagne-bubbly stupor, and I welcome it with glee.
I soak the day off of me, happy to let it go, happy to let it dissipate into this bath water.
I survived today and that triumph is bolstering my confidence, bolstering my resolve.
Maybe, tomorrow will be okay.
Maybe life will be okay.
YOU ARE READING
Never Really Over (Bremmy 3)
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