11.29 Falling in love... and Denise.

Like everything else she did, Jeanne was successful at committing suicide. She had passed away at three eleven on Saturday morning, after going through cardiac arrest four times. It was less than nine hours since Celeste found her on the bathroom floor.

Matt offered to drive everyone home. He dropped Scott and Jessica at their apartment, and Jeanne’s mother at a hotel. He pulled into a parking spot in front of Celeste’s apartment, and turned off the engine. “Do you want me to come up?” he asked. “I’m not trying to be insensitive, I was just thinking you might not want to be alone up there…”
“Please,” Celeste said, unable to think of anything else to say.
They unlocked the apartment door, and walked in. The smell of Jeanne’s vomit filled the apartment.
“Why don’t you make a cup of tea or hot chocolate or something,” Matt suggested, “and I can clean that up for you.” He gestured toward Jeanne’s room and bathroom with his chin.
Celeste was overwhelmed with gratitude. “Thank you, I didn’t even want to think about dealing with it right now. I really don’t feel like I can deal with much of anything.”
Matt grabbed a roll of paper towels and some cleaning spray, and walked into the bathroom. Celeste started puttering around the kitchen, putting water on to boil, pulling out some of her favorite “Tension Tamer” tea.
The water wasn’t yet boiling, and she didn’t feel like sitting down, so she walked into Jeanne’s room. She couldn’t bring herself to go into the bathroom where Matt was cleaning, but she sat on the edge of Jeanne’s bed, like she always used to, looked at the books that Jeanne used to read, the computer that she had for as long as Celeste had known her.
Celeste moved the mouse on Jeanne’s computer, clenching her teeth in anticipation of finding a suicide note left on Microsoft Word or something. It was just like Jeanne to leave her note on her computer for Celeste to find.
Dear Celeste, it read.
I know you’re trying to help, but you’re driving me crazy. No, that’s not true, you’re only doing what a good friend would do, but you don’t really understand. I really did ask for and deserve all of this – I was so worried about you the other night when you weren’t home until late, and I was so angry when you told me that you wished I wouldn’t be. I know we went out to dinner, and everything seemed better, but I was still so angry. So I decided to get revenge on Friday night while you were sick. I was going to go out, and be irresponsible, get drunk, pass out somewhere, go home with someone, whatever. Something dumb to make you worry about me instead, and understand how it feels.
I did something dumb all right; I talked to the wrong guy, I drank an open drink that was drugged, but all in all, when it comes down to it, I did ask for it. I can’t tell you any of this to your face because not only do I feel like a whore for going out and being stupid and getting raped, but I feel stupid because you weren’t worried about me. You assumed that I was and would be fine.
Maybe if I do something really stupid, you’ll understand what it feels like to worry…
Celeste made a choking sobbing sound, and Matt came running out of the bathroom to find her collapsed on Jeanne’s bedroom floor.
“She killed herself because I made her worry about me, but I didn’t worry enough about her. She killed herself to make a point. She didn’t even mean to kill herself; she just meant to make me worry!” The pitch of Celeste’s voice got higher with each word until she was shrieking.
Celeste buried her face in her knees. She couldn’t cry. She felt so sick she literally couldn’t cry. Matt left her for a minute, went into the kitchen, and came back momentarily with a cup of tea. He pressed it into her hands, and she took it automatically.
Matt picked Celeste up off the floor, carried her out of Jeanne’s bedroom, and set her down on the couch in the living room. “What does this change?” he asked.
“It changes everything,” Celeste said in a high pitched voice. “Why couldn’t I have just kept my mouth closed. If I hadn’t been so irritated about how worried she got, none of this would have happened. She wouldn’t have decided to try to worry me by attempting suicide. My god, this brings “suicide is a cry for help” to a whole new level.”
Matt shook Celeste slightly. “Celeste, stop. Think. Be reasonable. If you were worried about someone, and they told you to stop worrying, would you overdose on pills to make them know what it feels like to worrry? Does that make sense? Jeanne was sick. She had to be, to believe something like that was reasonable.”
Celeste started crying again, sobbing hsysterically into Matt’s chest. “Why did she do this? I thought she understood what I was saying. I never would have thought she’d do this.”
Matt held her tightly as she cried, rocked her back and forth gently, and made nonsensical sounds into her hair. When her crying had slowed to a small sob every now and then, he said, “This isn’t your fault. Any more than the rape was Jeanne’s fault. You couldn’t know what was going on in her mind, and you tried your hardest to work everything out with her.”
Celeste nodded. She wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. Matt leaned back and grabbed a tissue from the box on the end table. He handed ti to her. Celeste wiped her face, then blew her nose. All of a sudden, she was completely exhausted. “Stay with me?” she asked, plaintively.
Matt nodded. “For as long as you want.”
They fell asleep on the couch, Celeste securely wrapped in Matt’s arms, their legs intertwined.
Matt woke at about three o’clock in the morning to his cell phone buzzing in his coat pocket across the room. He gently unentangled himself from Celeste, and walked across the darkened droom to see who it was.
He didn’t make it to his phone before it stopped ringing, so he checked the caller ID. It was Denise. Matt sighed, and dialed his voice mail to see what she wanted.
“Matt, honey, I’m worried that you’re not home yet. It’s like three o’clock in the morning, and Tom is being a jerk again, so I came over to see if you wanted to have a cup of coffee with me. If you’re still at the library, it’s time to come home, honey…”
Matt sighed again, but dialed her back because he didn’t want to be bothered with her constant phone calls for the remaineder of the morning. “Hi Denise,” Matt said.
“Hey, honey,” Denise said in her attempt at a sexy voice.
“I’m at a friend’s tonight, what do you need?”
“I was just hoping for some company… is this friend male or female?”
Matt ignored the question. “I’ll be home tomorrow night, but I’ve told you. Unless you’re planning on leaving Tom, I’m not interested anymore.”
“But honey,” Denise whined, “that never bothered you before.”
“No, it didn’t, when you said Tom didn’t love you, and didn’t care. But I’m not going to be one more in your string of lovers, I told you that.”
Denise huffed. “Fine, if you’re going to be like that, see if I call you again.”
Matt felt a slight pang, but he knew that no matter what happened, Denise would keep coming around. More, probably, because that was just what she did than out of any real attachment to him. He was just another attractive playboy to her. It might be that was all she could give, but Matt knew that wasn’t all he needed.
“I’m sorry, Denise. But we’ve been through this before. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, ok?”
“Fine, bye.” Denise hung up the phone before Matt had a chance to say good bye.

Matt turned back to the couch where Celeste was sleeping, laying on her side with her hands tucked neatly under her head, her hair frilled out , almost touching the lfoor. “So beautiful,” he thought. He gently kissed her cheeks, her forehead, her neck. He stroked her arms, very gently, and ran his fingers over the golden rain of her hair.
Celeste stirred a little, rolled over towards him, and stretched out her arms in welcome. Matt smiled, kissed her lips, first gently, then a little more passionately. Celeste responded to him, slowly and with greater intensity as she realized it wasn’t a dream.
Matt lay down next to Celeste, still kissing her. She wrapped her arms around him, one arm on his back rubbing up and down, pulling him against her. The other was tangled in his hair, leveraging his head ot make his mouth fit best with hers.
Celeste started pulling at Matt’s t-shirt. He obliged by sitting up and taking it off. Celeste also sat up, and quicky stripped out of her own shirt and bra.
Matt’s breath caught in his throat, but he managed to whisper, “You are so beautiful. Are you sure you want this? Tonight?”
“I want to feel alive,” Celeste answreed. “Make me feel alive, Matt.”
Matt was suddenly struck with amazement at being asked to do what he had been longing to do since he first met her. At the same time, he struggled to maintain control and composure, to make her enjoy it as much as he knew he was going to.
Celeste suddenly felt like she was suffocating under Matt’s weight. She started wiggling a little, trying to get him to shift off, then struggling more violently when it became apparent that he was literally asleep on top of her.
Matt woke with a start. “What – what’s wrong?” he said, as she sat up quickly.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you like that, but you were hurting me with all your weight on top of me like that. You were making my ribs crack.”
Matt chuckled. “That’s a first, I don’t think anyone’s ever complained about me weighting too much, before.”
Celeste blushed, but because of the dark, Matt didn’t see it. “I didn’t mean it like that, but I get a little panicked if I can’t move freely, and my rib really was cracking whenever I breathed.”
“I’m just kidding,” Matt said. “I’m not offended. How about if I hold you next to me rather than laying underneath me?”
“That I can do,” Celeste said, enthusiastically. She climbed back onto the couch, and snuggled into Matt’s arms. She covered them both with a furry throw blanket that was on the back of the couch. Unfortunately, it wasn’t big enough to cover a person from head to toe, like a normal blanket. You could either be covered waist to toe, or neck to waist, but not both. Celeste chose the waist to toe option, and snuggled into Matt to keep the rest of her warm.
They slept like that until morning, when they woke up with the sun streaming through the living room windows and onto the couch. Celeste rubbed her eyes, sleepily. They felt funny, and there was much more sleep in them than usual. Oh no! she thought as she recalled all the crying that she had done the night before.
She got to her feet and ventured into her own bathroom. Oh god, she looked horrible. Her eyes were swollen like she had pink eye or some funky disease, and she had broken blood vessels across the lids and on her cheeks underneath her eyes. Celeste wet a washcloth with cold water, sat on the toilet and pressed it to her eyes gently, but she knew that it wouldn’t do anything but unsolidify her eyelashes.
She wasn’t sure what caused it, she thought she might have blocked tear ducts or something, but whenever she cried, even a little, her eyes swelled up to the point where she looked beaten.
“Ahem,” Matt said from the bathroom door. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but Celeste was definitely sitting with a – yes it was—a Barney washcloth over her eyes. “Are you ok?” he asked, gently touching her shoulder.
“Do you promise you won’t run or scream?” Celeste asked, still holding the cloth over her eyes.
“Um, I guess.” Matt answered somewhat hesitantly.
Celeste looked up at here he was speaking from, and removed the towel from her eyes.
“Shit, you look awful,” Matt said.
“Thanks a lot,” Celeste responded sarcastically. “You’re such a sweetheart. This always happens when I cry – that’s why I don’t do it often.”
[### INSERT MORE BUDDING RELATIONSHIP – THEY START GOING OUT PRETTY OFTEN. MATT PRESENTS DENISE AS A FRIEND, RATHER THAN AS A FORMER LOVER. DENISE AGREES TO MAINTAIN THIS FICTION. DENISE IS THE PROFESSOR’S (TOM’S) WIFE. TOM FOOLS AROUND ON HER WITH MUCH YOUNGER WOMEN, BUT GETS JEALOUS WHEN SHE HAS HER OWN LOVERS. THEY HAVE LOUD, VICIOUS, ARGUMENTS, AND EVEN AFTER CELESTE AND MATT START DATING, DENISE TENDS TO COME OVER TO MATT. MATT SAYS THAT IF CELESTE FINDS OUT THAT THEY WERE LOVERS, MATT WILL CHOOSE CELESTE OVER DENISE .###]

Two months later…
“Celeste,” Matt whispered after a long session of love making on the floor in his livign room.
“Mmm?” Celeste answered, sleepily.
“You’re not bothered about finding Denise here this morning, are you?”
“Not really,” Celeste answered, forcing herself to wake up a little. “I like you a lot, but it’s lot like we’ve made a declaration of monogousity (having only one lover). I don’t want to control you…”
“It’s not like that,” Matt hastened to assure her. “Denise lives a couple of floors up, and her husband has affairs pretty often. They fight a lot, and he gets awfully mean when they fight, so she comes down here to get away and for company.”
Celeste nodded. “I’m not pushing for anything, I’m just enjoying what we have right now.” She ran a fingernail up the inside of his thigh for effect. “If you want more, I’m ready whenever you are, but I can wait, also.”
Matt ran his hands through his hair, touseling it a little in frustration. “I’m sorry, Celeste. I know you deserve more, but I’m giving you more than I’ve ever given anyone else. I’ve never taken time away from work just to be with someone. Not really do anything, not really have any plans, just to be.”
“I know,” Celeste answered. “And I’m not asking you to give anything more than you’re ready for or able to. I want you, I don’t want a puppy dog who will trail along after my every whim.”
Matt smiled at her, deciding to lighten the conversation with some more lovemaking, now that he had assured himself that Celeste wasn’t secretly jealous of Denise. “How about if I give you some more of what I’m able to?” He raised and lowered his eyebrows in a mock-seductive manner, causing Celeste to giggle. From there, he moved on to tickle her, then to make love to her.

[insert more getting to know you, love story, randomness]

It was Matt’s twenty-seventh birthday. He has told Celeste that he didn’t want to do anything, just sit home and contemplate getting older.
“You’re not that old yet,” Celeste protested. “Besides, your birthday is the one day of the year that people give you gifts just because you’re around. It’s your day. I love my birthday!”
Matt protested that no one cared, and no one should care about his birthday, but Celeste managed to convince him to go out for a low-key evening anyway.
“Ok, fine,” Matt responded, “But don’t be surprised if I’m in a terrible mood.”
Celeste frowned in memory of the conversation. Her mother was in town, so she would be meeting up with Matt and Jessica and Scott later for drinks.
“What are you frowning about,” her mother asked her.
“Nothing much,” Celeste answered, “just ‘cause.”
Celeste’s mother shook her head, “It takes how many more muscles to frown than to smile?” she asked sarcastically.
“See,” Celeste responded glibly, “so I’m getting a work out, too.”