21 – The One I Love

Gina looked at her watch. It was 9:00 and if the press conference didn’t finish soon she was going to up and leave anyway. It was bad enough trying to give a damn about a politician on a good day, let alone when your husband and best friend are about to board a plane in just over an hour and a half. It had occurred to Gina about 30 seconds after arriving at the plush hotel that she technically couldn’t have given a flying fuck about the current situation of the Democrats, especially that of their leader Natasha Stott Despoja. In fact, had she not needed the money, Gina might have stood up and asked the question, “Is it true you got so smashed after the final recording of Good News Week that you ended up in a three way pash with several well known Australian comedians?”

She looked around at the other journalists intently scribbling notes and realised how lax she must look. Gina was hoping her dictaphone taped; if it didn’t, she’d just have to make it up. An older male journalist thrust his hand into the air and then posed a question about tax and hospitals. Gina looked at her dictaphone and then pulled it closer to her mouth.

“And that was the wonderful Jeff Douglas from The Herald Sun there, I think we all dozed off mid-question, something to do with old dead people and a tax on McDonalds. Which he clearly eats a lot of. I can see young Brian there, from that trendy new radio station, is just waiting for old Jeff to keel over so he can take his job. Oh, and here comes Tash’s response, let’s see what mind-numbing bullshit she can spew forth tonight.”

Gina began giggling to herself and copped several annoyed looks from the other journalists; she smiled impishly at them, flicked her dictaphone off and marched out. She’d call one of the others later and find out what happened.


“Are you sure you really want to come?” Fenny asked as she and Paul perused the duty free shops.

“Of course,” Paul replied, screwing up his nose as Fenny tried some perfume. “Would I be here if I didn’t?”

“Well can you stop waiting for Gina to walk through the doors?” Fenny scorned. “Smell,” she added and thrust her wrist under Paul’s nose.

“That smells like cats piss,” he declared and coughed. “And don’t ask me how I know.”

“What about this one. It’s called ‘Divine’,” she perked and squirted some of the contents of a small, blue bottle onto her other wrist.

“That’s…” Paul stopped and gagged. “Awful.”

“Fine. What about this one, it’s called ‘Luscious’,” Fenny sighed, grabbed Paul’s wrist and sprayed it on him.

He sniffed the scent and smiled. “Oh, I like that.”

“Good, buy Gina a present,” Fenny insisted.

“Aw, I was gonna spend all my money on booze and cigarettes,” Paul jeered.

Fenny rolled her eyes. “And to think I’m going to be stuck on a plane, alone with you.”

“Could be worse, you could be stuck taking Lilly to preschool,” Paul chided.

Fenny narrowed her eyes. “I think you should go get your wife that perfume for an anniversary present, before I insert it somewhere unpleasant.”

“Hey, then I can fart luscious…I’ll be like a walking air freshener,” Paul perked.

Fenny shook her head and walked away giggling, “I so do not know you.”


Brad arrived at the studio for a workshopping session, feeling more awake than he had in days. He noticed Greg and Colin were chatting in one corner, and Wayne was being a show pony as usual.

“What, no Lilly?” Ryan asked almost dejectedly.

“No, she’s out living it up with the neighbors’ nine-month-old, Jave,” Brad replied.

“Jave?” Ryan mused.

“Don’t ask…I haven’t,” Brad mused.

“Hey, fancy a go at Superheroes?” Ryan asked.

“Sure,” Brad grinned.

“Col’s going to start, then me, you and Greg,” Ryan announced.

Brad’s eyes travelled over to Colin and Greg who were wandering over. “Sure,” he breathed.

“Drew, give Col a superhero character,” Ryan announced.

“Oh man…Moose Man, and the world has run out of maple syrup,” Drew mused.

Colin rolled his eyes and then began making moose noises, and wailed for maple syrup until Ryan bounded in.

“Sorry I’m late, I got stopped by a nine o’clock moose,” Ryan perked.

“Thank god you’re here, Encyclopedia Man,” Colin declared.

Ryan rambled off a pile of useless facts until Brad leapt forward with a goofy smile. “Sorry I’m late I was being attacked by crazed Australians,” Brad sniggered.

“Lucky you made it, Relationship Fuck Up Man,” Ryan smiled.

Brad gave Ryan daggers and then declared, “I can’t believe I screwed a psycho and fathered an illegitimate child, what will my fiancée think?”

Colin and Ryan were fighting the giggles as Greg sauntered into the scenario. He glared at Brad and Brad raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry I’m late, I was lost in a labyrinth,” Greg sighed.

“We thought you’d never make it, Man Who Can’t Believe His Lover Went Back to Her Husband,” Brad chirped.

“Fuck you,” Greg hissed.

“It’s just a joke, man,” Ryan scorned.

“He’s been riding me all day,” Greg spat.

“Gee, that must’ve hurt,” Colin mused as he walked away.

“That was hysterical,” Greg sarced.

“Get a grip, buddy,” Drew demanded as he wandered over to the scene.

“Fuck off, Drew. Actually, fuck all of this,” Greg hissed and marched out of the studio.

“That was mean,” Ryan scolded as he turned to Brad.

“I know,” Brad sighed.

“It was wrong and it was mean. It was very funny…but it was wrong,” Ryan mused.

Brad burst into giggles, which caught onto Drew and then Ryan.

“We’re so horrible,” Drew declared.


“Where the fuck is she?” Paul scorned as he paced around the departure lounge.

“Well, if she’s not here soon, we’ll have to go,” Fenny shrugged.

Paul turned to look at the entrance again as Gina came rushing through the doors, looking incredibly pissed off.

“Finally,” Fenny mused.

“Sorry I’m so late, bloody Despoja,” Gina cussed and dropped her bag onto one of the seats.

“I thought you would have been finished ages ago,” Paul said, sounding slightly more desperate than he’d wanted.

“She was, like, 45 minutes late, and there were so many questions,” Gina grumbled. “I left early, actually,” she added.

Fenny hopped to her feet. “I hate to be a party pooper, but we have a plane to board.”

“Awww,” Gina sulked and wrapped Fenny in a hug.

“Come visit me. I’d visit you, but I’m a bit scared of this country,” Fenny mused.

“I will, promise,” Gina breathed as they let go. “And look after Paul. Don’t let him get blind drunk, stoned or arrested.”

“As if I would,” Paul said unconvincingly as Fenny grabbed her bag and headed toward the gates.

Gina and Paul looked at each other pathetically for a moment and then fell into a tight hug.

“Call me the second you get to LA,” Gina ordered.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Paul breathed.

“Like I’d have an orgy with midgets or stick M&M’s up my nose,” she mused.

He giggled as he reached into his pocket. “I bought you a present. It’s lame, but Fenny won’t let me forget it’s our anniversary.”

Gina took the bottle of perfume and looked at Paul. “I hate perfume.”

“I know, it was that or a stuffed koala,” Paul shrugged.

“I’ll wear it just for you,” Gina cooed as she pulled him into a kiss.

“Come on, McDermott,” Fenny urged and grabbed the back of his jacket, dragging him toward the gates.

“I love you,” he called, half laughing as he was being pulled backwards. “Get off me, woman,” he added.

“Love you too,” Gina called as she watched them disappear. She turned to the chairs behind her and sat down. She ached to go with them, to just hop on that plane and not have to worry about the stupid article she had to write.


Brad woke as his alarm screeched into life. There was a temptation to take it straight into the bathroom and attempt to flush it down the toilet. But that involved more energy than he could deal with. He gave out a long yawn and rubbed his eyes. Why he’d said yes to a late night drinking session with Drew was beyond him. Especially since he was taking Lilly for the day. He slid out of bed and was halfway to the bathroom when he heard the key in the door. Brad was tempted to run and find some pants, but stopped when Fenny appeared.

“Fen,” Brad gasped.

“Hi,” Fenny breathed.

“And Paul,” Paul piped up, bustling his way into the apartment.

“Gina said I could keep him,” Fenny mused as Paul quickly made himself scarce.

“I never expected you home so soon,” Brad breathed as she sauntered over to him.

“Surprise,” Fenny chided.

“So did you have a good time in Australia?” Brad asked.

“Not really,” Fenny perked. She lookd Brad, who was only in his underwear, up and down. “Were you about to have a shower?”

“Yeah, I smell like crap,” Brad sighed.

“Want someone to wash your back?” Fenny asked, moving closer to Brad and sliding her hands up his chest.

“It depends? Are you out of practice with a loofah?” Brad smiled.

“Who needs a loofah,” Fenny breathed as she brought her lips to his. He pulled her close and they kissed for what seemed like hours, before Brad pulled away, breathless.

“I’ve missed ya, Fen,” he gasped.

“I’m sorry for…” Brad’s lips came crashing down on Fenny’s before she could finish. “How about we skip the shower and go straight for the bedroom?” she breathed, her lips not moving from his.

“I like your way of thinking,” Brad panted and surprised her by sweeping her into his arms and carrying her into the bedroom.


Gina stared at her computer. Max was breathing down her neck about the latest article he wanted and she wasn’t even vaguely inspired. She was beginning to contemplate another game of Solitaire when a friendly “bleep” emanated from her computer. She had mail:

From: paulmcdermott@hotmail.com

To: ginacoleman@hotmail.com

Subject: We Made It!

 

Genie,

 

Well we made it to LA without a terrorist in sight, although I think one of the stewardesses was concerned about me. Just because the oxygen masks fell from the ceiling, by accident, and I screamed “WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE” and we hadn’t even taken off. Other than that the flight was as boring as all hell, I kept amused by spending at least three hours hitting Fen with a pillow for dragging me away from you.

At the moment I’m holed up in Fen’s study, playing the only CD I can. Which is me singing “Throw Your Arms Around Me” as it’s stuck in the CD ROM drive. It’s totally fucking with my head but it’s drowning out Fen and Brad going at it like rabbits, so there is an upside. I’m hoping they finish making up soon otherwise I’ll be spending a lot of time in here.

Miss you already; hope work isn’t pissing you off too much.

Love and lewd thoughts,

 

Paul xxx


Gina burst into giggles as she read Paul’s email and received strange looks from the people around her. Well, if the day was going to be crap, at least she could keep looking back at Paul’s email and cheer herself up.


Fenny and Brad lay facing each other amongst the ruffled sheets of the bed.

“How could you have forgiven me?” Fenny breathed.

“I don’t know, it just feels like it was bound to happen,” Brad sighed.

“I feel so horrible and guilty.”

“Don’t,” Brad cooed and stroked her cheek.

“Why do you have to be so sweet and understanding?” Fenny asked as she ran her fingers over the tattoo of her name.

“Because I can’t handle fighting anymore. I love you Fen, that’s all that matters,” Brad replied.

“I’d rather you were angry at me,” Fenny sulked.

“Fine. How could you? I feel betrayed,” Brad announced unenthusiastically. “Better?”

“Much,” Fenny smiled and scooted closer to kiss him. They were interrupted by Brad’s cell phone. He fumbled around blindly for it and answered mid-kiss.

“Hello?”

“Where are you?” Ella gasped.

“Shit, I totally forgot. Fen’s home and I…I’m so sorry,” Brad cussed.

“Oh, well, I see you have an excuse. We can make it another day if you want.”

“No, today is fine. I’ll be there in about half an hour.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, 29 minutes now.”

“See you then.”

Brad hung up the phone and winced at Fenny. “Don’t hate me.”

“It’s ok, Paul and I need to go see how things are going at the theatre,” Fenny perked.

“You don’t mind?” Brad gasped.

“Would it matter if I did?” Fenny breathed.

Brad looked uncomfortably away, and then back at Fenny. “We’ll do lunch, bring the puppy as well.”

“Puppy? Oh, Pauly,” Fenny mused.

Brad brushed his lips against her forehead and then slid out of bed muttering, “Twenty-seven minutes.”