My phone rings at 7pm.
"Hey, we just finished dropping the dog off at the dog walker's house. He's gonna keep the dog for a few days until the ASPCA opens on Wednesday. I need a drink. What are you up to?" Will calls an hour after our Killing Eve watch party was supposed to start. I'm a little annoyed, mostly because I hate when plans change unexpectedly. This is something I'm working on.
"Just doing a bit of writing," I say. I'm not sure how he'll respond if I confess what I'm really up to. Best to sit on this little endeavor for a minute.
"Come over when you're finished," he says.
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Forty five minutes later I change out of my sweats (but keep on my favorite shirt - a soft black tee that says BUTT STUFF across the chest), brush my hair, slide on my mask and head over to Will's. I knock on the back gate and let myself in. Grace meets me at the back door. She's on the phone, but unlocks the screen door and welcomes me in with a smile. Will meets us there. He kisses and hugs me and asks about my day. We make drinks in the kitchen while Grace finishes her phone call.
"Goddamn that was stressful. I'm glad we got rid of the dog for a few days. Grace and I were getting really snippy with each other. Like, she was getting pissed that I didn't post about the dog on social media early enough for people to see it," Will says. "But I kind of wanted to keep him," he confesses.
"Oh, I KNOW you wanted to keep him. You fall in love too easily," I joke with him. He smiles. It's true, he's a sucker.
"Yeah, but he would be mine. Like, when Grace moves out, we'd share the other dogs, but I'd keep him for myself," he explains. It's the first time he's mentioned Grace moving since lockdown.
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Two months ago, when I met Grace at the bar in Long Beach, we had a plan in place. At the time Will was on a six-week North American tour and Grace was still at the house caring for the dogs. It only made sense for her to move when he returned from tour and April first was the date we had all been counting down to.
At this point Grace and I had only shaken hands once. Will was on the West Coast leg of the tour and the bands were coming through Los Angeles. In an epic stroke of genius (or a drunken, misguided attempt at appeasement), Will thought it best to just "tear the band-aid off" and introduce us at a crowded bar in Long Beach on a Sunday night.
Except the bar wasn't crowded. The only people there that night was our crew, and to say it was awkward is perhaps the understatement of the year. Some of us got very drunk and some of us got very emotional and *some* of us made fools of ourselves. But it got done. The band-aid was off. Now I just had to make it to April first and the third wheel in our relationship would be no more.
Or so I thought.
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Will and I settle in on the couch together. I bury my cold feet under his legs because he likes my cold feet.
"Hey, Grace, are you watching this with us tonight?" Will yells toward the back of the house.
"What? Oh yeah, just a second." Grace finishes her phone call and settles into her chair.
While Will searches Sling for AMC, Grace and I chat about how shitty it was that they killed Kenny on the last episode. He was so cute and funny, what a bummer.
"Shit. For some reason it's not letting me access the show. Do you guys wanna watch a movie, or 90 Day Fiance?" he asks.
We both choose 90 Day Fiance, maybe because we're both masochists who also like to laugh loudly at strangers. Grace has a laugh that is open-mouthed and loud and often reminds me of myself. Sometimes it is alarming how similar we are to one another.
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It's the beginning of week two of our lockdown and we're getting into a groove. Will's tour was cut short and he had to cancel the last six dates. He ended the tour with a ridiculously under-attended show in Manhattan before flying home on March 14th. We've spent a lot of time together since he got back, mostly just catching up for the last few weeks he was gone. Over dinner one night he brought up Grace's move.
"So, I don't think Grace is going to be able to be out by April first. I told her I'd help her out financially, but that huge account she was working on for Coachella just got canceled and she might just be living off savings for awhile," he said.
I knew this was coming.
Since September Grace had been doing freelance graphic design work. Things were going really well. But then this goddamn pandemic had to go and ruin everything. And since my boyfriend is not an epic asshole, we carry on.
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