Working Title 2

He grimaces as water runs over his purpled knuckles. Bloodshot eyes glimpse shamefully at his reflection. Images from the previous hours flash. Several whiskeys led to a violent fight. He walks to the refrigerator and takes a frozen bag of peas to ice his hand. He finds his cell phone on the counter and plays a voicemail with the speaker on. An angry female voice bellows "Lose my number. You're an embarrassment. Your drinking has hurt me and my friends for the last time!" The pain in his injured fingers increases. He opens the fridge and takes out a beer. He reaches slowly back to the kitchen counter to get the cell phone. He stumbles toward the bedroom to find the phone charger when the phone begins playing Nirvana's Smells Like Teen Spirit. He means to hit ignore but answers the incoming call. His friend can see his grimace and sigh through the phone. "Hey you," he answers cautiously and slowly. "Uh, yeah. It's me. Glad I called. You sound lovely." His friend says disapprovingly. "Dude, what's going on? No phone calls in five days, you cancel dinner with my family, and you sound like you drank a lake. None of this is good. Start talking," she inquires sharply. She knows him too well. He tries to stall. Then he even tries to lie. He's poor at both. After a couple of minutes, he realizes how dark of a place he's in and comes clean. "This contradictory life is wearing me out, Zo. I think I pretty much ran off the bad part last night. Now I need to concentrate on the good part. I need to skip church this morning, though. There's physical healing to do." Zoe, knows bull when she hears it, but also wants to be a good friend. "Ok, you. You get the benefit of the doubt with me and the family. I'm going to call you tonight. Are you ok, as in, are you physically ok?" He knows to be honest. "Zo, I have a hurt hand, some busted up pride, and some beer to throw out. By the time you call, I'll have most of my head out of my rear end. I promise." He believes what he is saying. They say goodbye.

He walks over to his computer and checks his iblackbook. He reads through the messages, See the lost friends from the night before and starts deleting contacts. He comes across a hello line from someone he doesn't know but is ifriends with Zoe, and several of her high school friends. He answers back hello. Then turns off the computer and begins pouring out his beer. The cell phone buzzes again and he picks up without looking. "So, when did you and Suzann start talking?" a mutual friend to he and Zoe, Nancy asks. "I don;t know a Suzann. Honestly Nance, do you live online? I checked iblack for like a minute. Can I go back to my hangover and shame?" he shoots back rudely. "Oh poo. You and her would be perfect. I was just trying to entertain myself through you on a Sunday morning. What were you doing last night? It must have been crazy, from the action I see on your iblack.", Nancy gossips. "You don't want to know. Wait, you probably would want to know but let's just say I screwed up something I should have screwed up months ago. It's kind of sparked a resugence in goodness for me." Nancy laughs and offers information about Suzann. He doesn't listen and quickly hangs up. Nancy texts Suzann's number.

He spend the afternoon cleaning, working out, writing and reading. He wants to impress Zoe with his productive day and new goal oriented social life. He tries to call her through his text messages. he accidently calls the number Nancy had sent him. A sweet sounding voice answers. "Hello." He ealizes his mistake but something prevents his hand of flipping the phone off. "Hi", he says, "Is this Suzann?" After a short pause, Suzann, who had spent the afternoonwith her two daughters, and gossiping about her new iblackbook friend, answers "yes it is. You must be Tom. I've heard a lot about you." He hears children on the background, having one of his own, he knows the lack attention she can give to phone call from a random guy. "You sound busy. Um, would you like for me to call another time?" he sympathizes. She says encouragingly, "You called at the perfect time. The kids are leaving with their grandmother for dinner. I have the night to myself. I have plenty of time to talk." The conversation flows. Tom usually hates the phone, but two hours pass and he feels peaceful and happy. They agree to lunch in two days. Funny text messages follow. She calls him on her way to work the next morning. He calls her during lunch. Monday night produces another two hour phone call. It's as if they've known each other for years. Waht they have in common is stunning. Both of them are divorced. She has two daughters. He has one. Their mutual friends include Zoe and Nancy. Word makes it to both about the budding friendship between the single people. What happens on Tuesday, blows them both away.

Two people with spare time in the middle of the day. He talks to himself awkwardly before the meeting.  It's just lunch, is the lie Tom tells himself. Salad, conversation; maybe he'll let her window shop my friendship store. He arrives at the restaurant early; nervous. She walks through the door. Suddenly, it wasn't lunch. She is beautiful. The kind of natural pretty that glows. Her long blonde hair falls over a stunning face full of sun and warmth. Then she smiles and he's sold. The lips moved around the teeth and revealed a spectacular woman. Their banter is effortless. Tom has no idea what she thinks of him, but at that moment, he fell in love.