Excerpt
This Used to Be Us
1
Are You Listening? 2002
Alexander
“I love you,” I whisper to Dani. We’re lying in bed . . . her back is to me. I can tell by the rhythm of her breath that she’s sleeping. It’s early twilight. The room is bathed in just enough light for me to see the curve of her bare hip. I run my finger down her side. She shivers so I pull her to my chest. She relaxes into me and makes a small, satisfied “mmm,” sound, but I’m sure she’s asleep.
Chet Baker is crooning quietly from Dani’s record player in the corner, something about “it’s always you.” This was the first time I said “I love you” to her and I was too much of a coward to say it while she was awake. I think I’m just testing the words on my lips. I already know it’s true.
It was a long day, but a beautiful one. After weeks of uncharacteristic rain, we woke up this morning to blaring sunshine. The outdoors were calling. We hiked up to a waterfall at Eaton Canyon near Dani’s apartment. It was maybe an hour or so into the hike when we had to climb down a steep, muddy hill. I got to the bottom first, then looked back up at her to lend a hand if she needed one. She was up to her calves in mud and struggling a tiny bit to navigate the terrain, but still . . . she shot me the biggest smile. I thought instantly, Oh my god, I love her.
We came back to her apartment and have been lounging around the last few hours, mostly naked, talking about everything from our childhoods to our futures. There was a hint in her tone that I might be in her vision for the future. Nothing specific, I just wasn’t excluded. We’ve been dating for a while . . . I know I need to tell her.
She stirs then relaxes again. I begin to doze off.
It’s morning now and Dani is up already. She’s dressed and sitting at her desk with a cup of coffee, writing something on the Chet Baker album sleeve.
“Good morning.”
She looks back at me where I’m still lying in her bed. “We slept for like four hundred hours,” she says, smiling.
I chuckle at the exaggeration. “What are you writing?”
“It’s personal.” She winks. “Maybe someday I’ll let you read this.”
I love everything about her: the way she sees the world, the language she uses to describe things and feelings, her kindness, her quirkiness, her energy, her exaggerations . . . everything! I want to marry her and I need to tell her I love her.
2
I See You 2007
Danielle
We’ve been doing renovations on the house for what feels like forever, but I can’t stop thinking about how beautiful it will be when it’s finished. I’m proud we’re doing it all on our own. After we got married and bought the house, we had less than a hundred dollars in the bank but Alex was determined and so was I.
The day the agent gave us the keys, Alex said to me, “We’ve got this, Dani. We’ll figure it out and do it on our own.” That’s what I love about him. He just gets it done.
Now we’re almost there. We just scraped the popcorn off the ceiling in the kitchen and the wall started crumbling so we had to pay for new drywall on a credit card. No money for a hotel or even a campsite so I’m sleeping on a mattress in the garage. It’s cold and dirty in here. I’ve pulled the string of my hoody so only my eyes and nose are exposed, hoping my breath will warm me up. I’m in a sleeping bag on a dilapidated mattress on the floor of a garage built in 1908 but I just can’t stop imagining the house completed and how happy we will be, so I’m still smiling . . . internally anyway.
Alex is at the side door, about to come and get into “bed.” He’s looking at me and smiling. “You are so cute,” he says. “Such a trooper.”
“Get your ass in here, I’m freezing.”
He looks to his left and casually walks behind where I’m lying, then hurriedly grabs a bucket.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
“Nothing.” He sounds panicked.
“Tell me!” I’m looking back at him now. The bucket is on the floor upside down behind him.
He’s standing with his hands on his hips, looking a bit disheveled. “I’m about to get in there with you, so get ready.”
“What did you just do with the bucket?”
“Nothing,” he says. I start to get up to look at it. “No, Dani, don’t.”
“What is it?” Now I’m panicked. “Is it a spider? What is it?”
“No, it’s not a spider, Dani. Just lie down.”
“Tell me,” I demand.
“It’s like a little June bug.”
“Liar! You used that name because it sounds cute. But I know it’s not cute, and now my imagination is going wild. What is under there?”
“It’s a little roach.”
“Why didn’t you step on it if it’s so little?”
I start to get up. “Okay,” he says. “It’s a big roach. I’m going to get it outta here, okay?”
I watch most of the spectacle. Imagine a man trying his damnedest to collect an apocalyptic-sized roach into a dustpan to then re-home it.
“Are you kidding, Alex. Kill it! That thing is gigantic. It’s had a long life. It’s probably at least two thousand years old.”
Deciding not to look, I bury my head in the covers and remind myself that living in the garage is only temporary.
It’s been a minute. I know he’s gotten rid of it. He’s bringing the record player in. He puts on Fleetwood Mac, “Everywhere,” and starts to strip down to his boxers. I’m watching him and laughing inside. He’s trying so hard to make this situation pleasant. He mouths the lyrics, “I wanna be with you everywhere,” while simultaneously pointing at me.
Once he’s in bed he says, “It’s true, Dani. I want to be with you everywhere. Even a roach-infested garage.”
I perk up. “Infested?”
“No, just one really old guy, and I put him out to pasture.”
“Not funny,” I say.
He laughs then pulls me onto his chest, wrapping his arms around me. I relax. I’m dozing off. Everything is exactly the way it should be. I need to remember to write a note on the Fleetwood Mac album sleeve that Alex couldn’t kill a cockroach . . . and that I’m starting to think it’s the sexiest thing ever.
3
Whisper These Words to Me 2011
Alexander
We’re in bed. Dani rolls over to face me and has to lift her belly with her hands to shift her body to the other side. Today is her due date. Our first child. Dani is beautiful, glowing, truly gorgeous, but her stomach is so huge, it has to be painful.
“Alex?” she whispers. It’s early and she’s still groggy. She’s wearing just a tank top that only covers half her belly and a pair of tattered floral underwear. It’s adorable. I run my hand over her stomach and feel our baby kick. It’s one of the best and oddest feelings in the world. Dani is all belly. It almost seems like the rest of her body is actually thinner, like the baby is taking everything she’s got. If she didn’t still have such a vibrant energy, I might actually be concerned. The baby moves and turns dramatically, it’s hard not think there is at least a three-year-old in there.
“Yes, my love.”
“I want to ask you something.” Her eyes are still half-closed. She maneuvers to get closer to my ear. I can feel her breath. Now my mind is on other things. I think she’s going to kiss my neck when she very quietly says, “I think we should insulate the attic today.”
My eyes shoot open. “What?”
Taking a deep breath, she sits up. “This house is cold and the insulation sucks. We should go rent one of those machines that shoots insulation into the attic.”
“How do you know about that?”
“I saw it on an episode of This Old House. We can get it all at Home Depot.”
Dani is nesting at the moment . . . quite literally. She wants to blow tons of insulation material into our attic, like an actual nest, and I can’t tell her no.
“I think it’s like a two- or three-man job,” I say.
“Man?” she snaps.
“Person,” I reply, a little exasperated. “You know what I mean.”
“You and I can do it,” she argues.
“No, Dani! No way. You’re not going up in the attic right now.”
She takes a deep breath and calms down. “You go in the attic and I will put the insulation into the machine outside. It runs through a big hose and you’ll just shoot it all around up there.”
