Let's Stay Together (29 page)

“No,” Mrs. Moczydlowska said. “You go now.” She walked them to the door. “Good-bye.”

Patrick paused outside Mrs. Moczydlowska’s closed door. “Something’s wrong,” he said.

“What?” Lauren asked.

Patrick shrugged. “That is by far the shortest time I have ever been in her apartment.”

“She didn’t even seem to notice me,” Lauren said.

Oh, she noticed,
Patrick thought.
And that’s probably the problem.
“Well, we’re done for the day.”

They started down the hallway to the stairs.

Patrick heard a door open.

“Patrick!” Mrs. Moczydlowska yelled.

Patrick sighed. “Do you mind waiting for me?”

Lauren sat on the top step. “I don’t mind.”

Patrick returned to Mrs. Moczydlowska’s door. “Yes?”

Mrs. Moczydlowska fumbled with her hands. “Are you going to marry this person?”

“Yes,” Patrick said. “I am going to marry Lauren.”

“Will you be moving away with her to California?” she asked.

“No,” Patrick said. “We’re living here, in Boerum Hill.”

Mrs. Moczydlowska narrowed her eyes. “But why?”

“This is my home,” Patrick said. “This will be our home.”

“But she is . . .”

“Beautiful, I know.” Patrick smiled.

“No,” she said sternly. “I mean she is famous.”

“Okay,” Patrick said. “She’s famous. We’re still living here.”

“But I am confused,” she said. “Famous people live in big houses in California. She has a big house in California.”

“That house belongs to her ex,” Patrick said.

“But I saw her house on the television today,” she said.

“That was Chazz Jackson’s house,” Patrick said.

Mrs. Moczydlowska sighed. “He was saying mean things about her. He said that she betrayed him. That she cannot have the best, so she settles for the worst. And he called you a boy toy.”

“Really?”
I’ve never been called that.

“What is this boy toy?” she asked.

“A new, younger man,” Patrick said.

“But you are older than she is, yes?” she asked.

“Yes,” Patrick said. “By two years.”

Mrs. Moczydlowska looked down the hallway to Lauren. “She is . . . She looks so young.”

“I’ll tell her you said that,” Patrick said. “She’ll be glad to hear it.”

“Do you love her?” she asked.

“Very much.”

“I can see that,” she said. “You were not so much looking for rats as you were looking at her.”

“She’s quite beautiful to look at,” Patrick said.

Mrs. Moczydlowska stepped back into her apartment. “You will answer if I call tomorrow.”

“Of course,” Patrick said. “I’m not quitting this job. You’re stuck with me.”

“You say this
now,
” she said.

“I say this now, and I’ll say it tomorrow,” Patrick said. “I am not quitting and moving to California.”

“Will she come with you every time?” she asked.

“She might.”

Mrs. Moczydlowska shook her head. “I do not like this arrangement one bit. I may call your boss.”

“
Will
you call my boss?” Patrick asked.

Mrs. Moczydlowska looked up briefly. “No. I will try to get used to the idea. Good-bye.” She shut the door.

Patrick returned to Lauren and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s go home.”

They started down the stairs.

“What was that about?” Lauren asked.

“She’s not happy with the new arrangement,” Patrick said.

“Oh,” Lauren said.

“She says she will try to get used to it,” Patrick said.

“She kind of dotes on you, you know,” Lauren said.

“Yep,” Patrick said. “I’ve never been completely sure, but I think I remind her of her husband.”

“I saw his picture,” Lauren said. “You don’t look anything like him. Do you know what happened to him?”

“No,” Patrick said. “Maybe he was a handyman, too.”

They moved outside, into the snow.

“There aren’t any rats in her apartment, are there?”

“I doubt it,” Patrick said. “There’s never anything really wrong. She just likes my company.”

“So do I.” She put her arm around his waist.

“She thinks you’re young,” Patrick said.

“I am when I’m with you,” Lauren said. “So, are we really done for the day?”

Patrick nodded.

“How’d I do?” Lauren asked.

They turned up Hoyt. “I think Salthead would hire you as a buildings maintenance apprentice. The pay isn’t that great, no more than ten bucks an hour, but there are some excellent benefits.”

Lauren smiled. “Such as?”

“Me.”

“Oh, get me an application immediately,” Lauren said.

“I
must
have this job.”

“No application necessary,” Patrick said. “You’re hired.” They turned onto State Street.

“Can you honestly see yourself living like this?” Patrick asked.

“Honestly, no,” Lauren said. “I’m exhausted, and I didn’t really do much of the work. I can see myself with you, though. I can even see myself doing
this
with you. Most days. Not Sundays, okay? There’s something wrong about working on Sundays.”

“Okay,” Patrick said. “I’ll try to have everything perfect every Saturday.” He saw passing people do double takes, but no one stopped them or harassed them.

“I know you don’t want to hear this,” Lauren said, “but I have plenty of money, you know. Neither of us would ever have to work again.”

“Half a million doesn’t go as far as it used to, especially in this city,” Patrick said. “Rent for a larger apartment alone will cost you up to sixty grand or more per year.”

“I have more than half a million, Patrick,” Lauren said.

“I have half a million in the
bank.
I have also made many wise investments. I have plenty of stock, too. All I have to do is cash it in.”

“I want to support you.”

“I know you do, and I respect that so much,” Lauren said. “You don’t know how much. I’m just saying that you don’t have to. We could live anywhere, do anything, and go anywhere.”

“That’s money you earned.”

“That’s money I want to share,” Lauren said. “With you and only you.”

“Couldn’t we call it an emergency fund or something? You know, to be used only in case of emergency.”

“I guess we could. . . .”

She doesn’t like the idea.
“We haven’t had any emergencies yet, right? We have a roof over our heads, we’re wearing some really chic clothing, and we get plenty of exercise. What more do we need?”

They arrived at the apartment and removed their boots at the door.

“Well, we need some more light in our apartment,” Lauren said. “And some rugs. The floor is too cold. And a one-way window, you know. We can see out, and they can’t see in. And some art for the walls. Some color! Lots of color! We could even re-cover that couch.”

“But it’s brown,” Patrick said. “Your favorite color.”

“I have other colors on this body,” Lauren said, removing the straps from the coveralls and letting them fall to the floor.

“Really? Where? I didn’t see them.”

Lauren extricated herself from her long johns. “You want to see all the colors of my body?”

“Oh yes.”

She removed her bra. “Then you’ll need to put in more lights.”

“I have a flashlight,” Patrick said. “It has a very powerful beam.”

Lauren removed her panties. “That’ll do . . . for now.” She raced to the bed and hid under the covers.

Patrick found his flashlight.

This could get very interesting.
“Miss Short?”

“Yes?”

“What are you doing under those covers?”

Lauren giggled.

“I hope you’re not doing anything naughty,” Patrick said.

Lauren giggled again.

He could see the outline of her hand working furiously under the covers. “Are you . . .”

“Am I what?” Lauren asked.

“Are you masturbating, Miss Short?” Patrick asked, moving onto the bed.

“No,” Lauren whispered.

Patrick worked his head under the covers and turned on the flashlight.
Oh, I didn’t expect to see a freckle
there.
I think I shall kiss it for being in such a unique and tender spot. I wonder if she’d like me to suck on her fingers while she does that.... Oh yes, she does. I hope the flashlight batteries last. I have a lot more exploring to do.

55

F
or the rest of that week, Lauren and Patrick worked long days and played long into the night.

They replaced Mr. Hyer’s window while he slept, undisturbed, on his couch. Patrick checked his pulse just in case.

They unclogged several Dutch drains. They drank espresso and hot chocolate at the Little Sweet Café. They also ate too many sweets because Freddy “paid” them with free cookies for allowing him to post their picture on the wall behind the counter.

Meanwhile, the media went to work. Lauren read a story aloud while Patrick rubbed her feet.

From the
New York Post
:

“You didn’t threaten them,” Lauren said.

“Yeah, I did,” Patrick said. “I questioned their integrity.”

“They don’t have any integrity to question,” she said, turning on the TV. “I think your eyes threatened them. You have dangerous eyes.”

After watching several stories about stars in and out of rehab and traffic court, they looked on as a reporter on
Access Hollywood
gushed, “
Don’t
adjust your set. You are actually seeing actress Lauren Short in coveralls. Lauren has gone from former mega movie star and Chazz Jackson’s leading lady to Brooklyn handywoman overnight. Cinderella has lost her dress, her glass slipper,
and
her Prince Charming and has gone back to the cinders. . . .”

“You look good,” Patrick said. “I never thought I’d say that about anyone in coveralls.”

“Thank you.” Lauren smiled. “And
you’re
my Prince Charming.”

“I like it when you lose your slippers,” he said, working her heels. “You have very sexy feet.”

Lauren switched over to
Entertainment Tonight.
After a puff piece on random actors successfully “saving” a beached dolphin at
low
tide in Malibu, they watched a choppy review of their recent run-ins with the paparazzi.

“The fallout from Lauren Short’s breakup with Chazz Jackson continues,” the host said. “Lauren has reduced herself to being a plumber’s helper. She has given up glitz and glamor for pipe cutters, slip-nut wrenches, and toilet seals. . . .”

“I like helping you with your plumbing,” Lauren said. “You keep springing leaks.”
And I’m about to spring a leak if he keeps rubbing and squeezing my toes!

“It’s because you put my plumbing under so much pressure,” Patrick said.

“I like releasing your pressure,” Lauren said.

“I like making you leak, too.”

Their story continued on
ET
as a fat, badly dressed, effeminate reporter walked along Hollywood Boulevard. “Oh, it’s a
scandal,
” he said. “The princess has kissed a
frog,
and the
frog
is still a
frog!
Our poor little Lauren has gone from rags to riches to rags again. But we suppose that once you’ve had Chazz Jackson, there’s nowhere else to go but down. Oh, how the once gorgeous have fallen!”

“I like your tongue, too,” Lauren said. “It’s so long and thick.”

“You have a cute little tongue,” Patrick said.

Lauren sat up. “There’s Chazz.” She turned up the volume.

“She lost her king,” Chazz said, “so now she has a pauper. I’m sure she’ll tire of her boy toy soon, especially when he can’t pay the rent or buy her toilet paper. He bought her ring at a pawnshop! The ring I gave Lauren cost more than what he’ll earn in a million lifetimes.”

“I didn’t think he knew that word,” Lauren said.

“Rent?” Patrick said.

“Funny,” Lauren said. “And his math is off.”

“Not by much,” Patrick said. “Where’s the ring?”

“In the Pacific Ocean.”

“Nice,” Patrick said, working his fingers up to her calves. “I knew you had a good arm.”

“Oh, there’s my agent,” Lauren said.

“I knew Lauren was under a lot of stress,” Todd said, “but throwing her career away like this on a whim, and over a man she barely knows! I never thought it could happen! I’m still working on her behalf, but it’s difficult to do when she doesn’t answer her phone! Lauren, turn on your phone!”

“Todd has lost most of his hair,” Lauren said. “I’m probably the reason.”

“He yells too much,” Patrick said. “Why haven’t you turned on your phone?”

“I don’t want to,” Lauren said. “I wish Todd would accept my decision to retire. He’s mad that I’m costing him money.”

“What percentage of your earnings did he take?” Patrick asked.

“Ten percent,” Lauren said.

“Hey, that’s my raise,” Patrick said.

“You’re getting a raise?” Lauren asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Patrick said. “We’ll be able to afford one more roll of toilet paper this month.”

“Oh, goody.”

As they snuggled on the couch, Patrick’s phone rang.

“Hello?” Patrick listened for a few seconds before covering the phone. “It’s some guy named Sam Gabriel from
Us Weekly.
”

“Oh, put him on speaker,” Lauren said.

Patrick hit the SPEAKER button and set the phone on the arm of the couch. “How did you get this number?”

“I know some people,” Sam said.

“You mean you
paid
someone to give up the number,” Lauren said.

“Oh, hello, Lauren. It’s Sam Gabriel. I did a story on you ages ago. Just after
I Got This.
”

“And you did your best to turn me into a tramp with that story,” Lauren said. “I remember. What do you want now?”

“I’d like to interview Patrick,” Sam said. “I want his take on this affair.”

“It’s not an affair,” Patrick said.

“I am engaged to be married, Sam,” Lauren said. “This is not an affair.”

“Oh, right, sure,” Sam said. “So would you rather do the interview over the phone or come in to the city? Or I can come there. I’m flexible.”

“I’m not interested,” Patrick said.

“We’ll pay you ten thousand dollars,” Sam said.

Wow!
Lauren thought.
Are we that juicy of a story?

“Still not interested.” Patrick reached for the phone.

“Twenty-five thousand, then,” Sam said. “I can’t go any higher, and no one else will pay you this much.”

Patrick snatched up the phone. “Good-bye.” He turned off the phone. “I didn’t think they paid people for interviews.”

“They don’t usually,” Lauren said.

“Is it because I’m an ordinary guy?” Patrick asked.

“Maybe,” Lauren said. “I don’t mean to be difficult, but you just passed up twenty-five thousand bucks, man. That’s a lot of cookies and espresso.”

“It’s our business, not the world’s,” Patrick said. “If we decide one day to let the world know about us,
we
will tell it.”

Later they watched the late-night talk shows and shook their heads at the monologues.

“Lauren Short couldn’t have the prettiest man in the world, so she settled for this.” The host showed a picture of Patrick swinging his tool bag past a photographer’s face.

“Do I really look like that?” Patrick asked.

“They Photoshopped that one to make you look more sinister,” Lauren said.

Patrick shook his head. “No, I think I was angry for real in that one.”

Lauren shivered. “I hope I never make you angry.”

“You can’t,” Patrick said.

The host continued. “I hear they’re going to be doing a remake of
Beauty and the Beast,
and
he
won’t need makeup. They’re also going to do a new version of
The Hunchback of Notre Dame.
He’ll be the hunchback, and she’ll be the belle. Get it. She’s the b-e-l-l-e. . . .”

Lauren turned off the TV. “I am so sorry about all this.”

“I’m not,” Patrick said.

“It has to bother you somehow,” Lauren said.

“It doesn’t.”

It has to. No one, not even a longtime celebrity, can take this kind of abuse for very long.
“Not even a little bit?”

“No,” Patrick said.

“They’re saying you’re a wiseguy, Patrick,” Lauren said.

“That’s character assassination.”

“I’m surprised the real wiseguys aren’t going on TV to dispute it,” Patrick said. “They are some proud men, and some of those wiseguys are good guys helping their communities.”

“I’m just so sorry it’s happening to you,” Lauren said.

“Don’t be,” Patrick said. “I know the truth. You know the truth. That’s all that matters.”

“This constant barrage can change a person,” Lauren said. “It’s like water dripping on a rock. Eventually, the rock breaks.”

“I don’t know how to be anyone but myself,” Patrick said. “I’ve had forty years of practice.”

“But some of what they’re saying is outright slander,” Lauren said. “They can’t even get your name right.”

“The truth always comes out,” Patrick said. “Besides, no matter what they say, they can’t take away what I have.”

“And what do you have?” Lauren asked.

“You,” Patrick said. “I got the girl.”

“Say that again, and emphasize
girl.
”

“I got the
girrrl
.”

That is so sexy.
“I like to be called a girl. How old did I look today?”

“Eighteen,” Patrick said. “Barely legal. When do your parents expect you home? I’m sure you have homework. I need to see some ID.”

She hugged him to her. “You are so good for me.” She slid off the couch and held out her hand. “Come on.” She led him to the bedroom and took off her coveralls. “I need your advice.”

“I doubt I’ll give you good advice,” Patrick said. “When you’re getting naked, I can’t think straight.”

Lauren shook her booty. “Should I put my clothes back on?”

“Oh no, of course not,” Patrick said. “I like not thinking straight.”

Lauren kicked the coveralls behind her. “Here’s what I need to know. Should I bust out Chazz for the ‘man’ he isn’t?”

Patrick removed his coveralls. “What good would it do?”

Lauren shimmied out of her long johns. “It would take the focus off us. Maybe permanently.”

“Wouldn’t the media say something like, ‘She was engaged to a bisexual man and didn’t know it’?” Patrick pulled his T-shirt over his head.

“Yeah,” Lauren said, undoing her bra under her T-shirt.

“They’d call me clueless, and they’d be right. I was.”

“He’s an actor,” Patrick said, pulling back the covers.

“He was acting.”

Lauren removed her socks. “I just want to see him squirm a little, you know?”

“Like I’m squirming now,” Patrick said, sliding under the covers and removing his underwear. He tossed it across the room.

Lauren stood on the bed, toying with her underwear. “I like to make you squirm.” She slipped out of her underwear and took off her T-shirt.

“And after you make Chucky squirm, what then?”

“I don’t know,” Lauren said, squatting in front of him.

“I’d like to see a hundred microphones shoved into
his
smug face.”

Patrick stroked Lauren’s thighs. “And then?”

Lauren stretched her right leg forward, resting her heel on Patrick’s shoulder. “And then I’d like to hear these people rake him over the coals with their questions and comments. I’d like to see
Entertainment Tonight
and these late-night hosts do jokes about him.”

Patrick kissed her right ankle. “And then?”

She stretched her left leg forward, resting it on the headboard. “And then . . .” Lauren sighed, found his bulge under the covers, and began stroking him. “And then . . . I don’t know what.”

“Will it change anything?” Patrick asked.

He gets so hard so fast!
“No. It won’t change a thing. You’ve talked me out of it.”

“Out of what?” Patrick said.

Lauren squeezed his penis. “I was about to go out there and shame him.”

Patrick turned to look at the window. “They’re out there? Again?”

Lauren nodded. “I know they’re out there waiting to get reaction quotes. That’s what they do to keep a story going. They want my reactions to all this negativity they’ve started. What do you think about what so-and-so is saying about you? That sort of thing. It’s so juvenile, as if the media is still in middle school. It’s their way of keeping sadness and despair in the news, and sadness and despair sell. People don’t want to watch good news on TV. They want to see sorrow, pain, and accusations.”

Patrick sat up and wrapped her legs around his waist. “If you went out there like this, there would be no sadness, despair, sorrow, or pain.”

“Oh, I plan to put a hurting on you first.” She maneuvered his penis inside her. “Oh, this is
much
better. I’m still going out there once we’re through.”
In a few seconds! Wow!

“To do what?” Patrick asked. “Oh, that’s nice. I like your booty when it bounces on my legs like that.”

“I will keep bouncing,” Lauren said. “When you make me come in about ten seconds, I’m going to go out there to tell them the good news.”

“What good news?” He thumbed her clitoris furiously.

Oh, damn! I can’t believe I have orgasms this quickly!
“Damn! That wasn’t even ten seconds.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Patrick asked, thrusting upward.

“No!” Lauren cried, her spasms increasing. “I just don’t want you to think I’m a freak.”