Page 22 of A Very Friendly Valentine's Day
The One with Just the Tip
It is impossible to pack everything I need into one carry-on bag for a nine-day cross-country winter vacation, wherein six of those days will be spent on a train with Eddie Cannavale, and three of them will be spent on my own in New York City. I know this because I spent five hours selecting outfits with footwear and four hours trying to get them into a rolling suitcase along with my own bedding (because thanks but no thanks, Amtrak!). An hour into it, I did what any self-respecting adult woman would do—I started drinking merlot and burst into tears every time I couldn't get the stupid thing to zip up.
Finally, I decided that it was ridiculous to pack shapeless sweatshirts, bulky sweaters and my baggiest sweatpants to wear on the train with Eddie. My intention had been to wear clothes that signaled that I was not trying to appear attractive to him—simply because we would be in such close quarters for three-day stretches. But by the second glass of merlot, I’d realized how silly that was. Because Eddie is still Eddie. And I’m still me. Whether we’re in the same American Lit class or in different cities or in a nine-and-a-half-foot-long room together, we’re still the same two people who’ve been very good, totally platonic friends for six years. Despite the one-time nipple-y semi-frock rocket incident that I accidentally thought about five or more times while pleasuring myself.
No matter what Layla said, we can continue to be strictly platonic friends for the rest of our lives.
And we will.
So, I packed my pretty clothes in case there’s anyone worth flirting with on the train. Because it’s almost Valentine’s Day, and I still haven’t met a worthy male companion for temporary distraction purposes. This was the only New Year’s resolution with a deadline. I always make my deadlines. Even if I have to make out with a homeless person in New York on the thirteenth, I will find an intelligent homeless man who wears glasses, and I will meet that deadline.
It's seventy degrees in LA, and I’m wearing a massive winter coat as we make our way down the narrow corridor toward the back of the car. Our dedicated sleeping car attendant, Nancy, has just shown us the private restrooms and shower, which are reserved for passengers on this car only. She informed us that we must take the stairs to the upper level in order to go between cars to reach the lounge and dining cars, and she’s now escorting us to the family bedroom.
Eddie is a few feet behind me, wearing a paper-thin thermal jacket and his ‘Don't Look at Me I'm a Celebrity’ baseball cap and sunglasses even though it’s almost dinner time. And guess what?! Everyone has been looking at him. He is infuriatingly calm, and I bet it took him less than fifteen minutes to pack his bag. It's probably full of chest-defining thin sweaters, presents for Alana and extra-large Calvin Klein condoms that come in celebrity swag bags.
I regret not adding "There shall be no wearing of fragrance on the train" to my list of guidelines because he smells like beach sex in a snowstorm. It’s very pleasant and appealing and I hate it. I hate that it makes me want to snort the skin on his neck and get us both naked so I can roll around on him like a baby seal. I take back what I said earlier. He’s a terrible friend.
I'm dealing with it by asking Nancy a series of inane questions and making Harry Potter references so she won't leave me and my nostrils alone with him. Nancy looks and sounds like Kathy Bates, and I would trust her with my life.
“What time do we arrive at Hogwarts, Nancy, do you know?”
“Ahhh, if only I had a Galleon for every time someone made that joke.”
“How long have you been working the rails?”
“Well, I’ve been a railroader ever since my son left for college, so about eleven years now.”
“Wow. You must really enjoy it.”
“I like it just fine. You on your way to Chicago for Valentine’s Day?”
“New York. Yes,” Eddie answers.
“Now, isn’t that a treat. How long have you two been together, if you don’t mind my asking?”
“Oh, we aren’t together. At all. We’ve been friends for six years. He’s going to New York to meet his girlfriend, and I’m going for better reasons. Other reasons. We just weren’t able to book another room. Well, I had a roomette booked, but he insisted I cancel my ticket. So, we have to share a bed.Room.Abedroom.That’s the only reason we’re sharing one. As friends. Just friends.”
Nancy glances back at me with a knowing half-grin before sliding open the door to our family bedroom. “I like the sound of that.”
I’m not sure which part of that she likes the sound of, but I’m a little too busy staring at the room and all thenospace in it to ask her. This is a bedroom for a family of dwarves.
“Welcome to the Friend Zone,” Nancy deadpans with a wink. “It probably looks a little cozier than you were expecting. Everyone says so. But I think you’ll find it’s more than enough room for two people—as long as you don’t hate each other.” She winks again.
Okay. That’s enough with the winking, Nancy.
She gestures for me to enter. I do, and Eddie immediately walks in and drops his leather duffel bag and messenger bag onto one of the blue sofas.
“This is great,” he declares, turning to face the wall and stretching his arms out. Because he can’t face me and stretch his arms out at the same time. It’s not wide enough. “Plenty of room. Right, Bird?”
Honestly, I don’t know how a family of four humans is supposed to fit in here, because there’s barely enough room for two nipple-y boner-y adults to co-exist without bumping nipples and boners. But I guess as long as we remain totally unattractive to each other, that won’t be an issue.
“It’s great!” I say. “Four beds—wow!”
“This sofa here will fold out into a ‘double bed,’ but it’s more like a single and a half. Room enough for two though, if necessary.” She smacks her lips together. “And in here’s your closet.” Eddie steps aside so she can open up the narrow closet. “Both tables under the windows fold out, like so…” She folds out the small table beneath one of the windows. “Menu for your complimentary meals is right here. Complimentary bottles of water. Alcohol must be paid for, but it is encouraged.” She winks again, this time at Eddie. “I’ll be back this evening to turn down the beds for ya. And this here’s how you get my attention if you need anything.” She shows us the call button. “We have flexible dining now, so you do not need to make a reservation for the dining car. Meals will be served starting in half an hour. Any questions?”
I open my mouth to ask a question, but Eddie beats me to it.
“Birdie wants to know when the old lady with the candy cart will be coming by.”
