What kind a f**king idiot was I?
I struggled with that long after Andy got off the phone. Long after I shared with Andy that Vance was practically moving in with me. Andy had said, hesitantly and with concern, “Um… Jules, don’t you think this is a bit fast?” then I’d told him about Indy, Jet and Roxie, his eyes got big, but he didn’t look any less concerned. Long after I hit two different Safeways and cleaned them out of their M&M cookies (the absolute best) and picked up some other provisions (doing this randomly because although Vance was going to be hanging clothes in my closet, I had no idea what kind of food he liked in the house).
This last thought had me cracking up hysterically in the meat and cheese section and people gave me a wide berth. This was a good thing as it meant I had the meat and cheese section all to myself without anyone breathing down my neck to make a selection.
I got over my latest emotional struggle when I put the cookies on the kitchen counter, put the food away and gave Boo his kitty treats, letting him have a few more because I was in a good mood. Then Boo and I went over to Nick’s. Then, realizing it was nearly six, I stopped outside Nick’s backdoor and Boo and I went back to my side. I dropped Boo long enough to write Vance a note saying I was on Nick’s side. I didn’t want him to think he was stood up again. Vance didn’t like that.
When I was done I stared at the note on the counter and went back to emotionally struggling with having to write a note to someone to explain my whereabouts, something I’d never done in my life. This didn’t take long because, as I stared at the note, that velvet shroud wrapped around me and I stopped staring at the note and started smiling at it.
Then I snatched up Boo and we went back to Nick’s.
I knocked on the door and stuck my head in. “Nick?”
“Hey Jules, be right there.”
I walked in and dropped Boo who immediately went in search of Nick.
I went in search of beer.
I’d just pulled out a Fat Tire when Nick came in.
“Hey,” I said.
“Hey,” Nick replied, staring at me intensely.
“What?” I asked about the stare.
“I don’t know,” Nick answered.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
He leaned a hip against the counter. “I’m waiting to see what you have to say. I don’t know if you’re gonna tell me someone’s been shot, you broke up with Vance again or you’ve decided to single-handedly plan a march on Washington due to the lack of AIDS medications available to developing countries. I gotta be prepared for anything.”
I grinned at him and popped open the beer. Then I handed it to him and leaned a hip against the counter myself.
“I’m going to tell you that I’m off the streets.”
His body moved, only slightly, but it still moved. It got tense then it relaxed in such a way that his relief could be read in every line.
“Good,” he said quietly.
I had to admit, I felt guilt at this. Nick’s reaction wasn’t an overwhelming reaction but it said it all.
I decided to move on to a different subject before I could figure out an anatomically possible way to kick myself in the backside. “I’m also going to tell you that Vance is moving some clothes to my house.”
Without hesitation he said, “Good.”
It was my turn to stare. I thought for certain I’d get a lecture that we were going too fast.
“Don’t you think we’re going too fast?” I asked.
“Vance the reason you’re off the streets?”
“Part of it.”
“What’s the other part?”
“You.”