This is Where I Leave You

Richard, Nina, and Ashley went all out for my going away party—dinner in the back room at Locanda Verde, private table at the newly retooled Marquee, and bottles of Veuve flowing.

Just kidding! I don't live in an R. Kelly music video.

No, we went totally old school—dinner at the Patsy's on 60th with just Richard, close friends, and my parents (who went right home after), followed by shuffleboard-playing and jukebox-hogging at Plug Uglies, where everyone from my peripheral group of college friends to new co-workers showed up. Even William made an appearance.

"Enjoy every moment of this," he told me right before he left, "because the next couple of months are going to be hell. And I'm not saying that to scare you—I'm saying that to prepare you."

"I know you are," I said. "I'll see you in LA?"

William gave me a hug, which was weird because William and I are not huggers. We were both pretty warm and loopy though, and after he left I discovered he'd left his card on file so that the next hour was an open bar for me and all my friends. Aw, William.

Nina was there with Nick, who told me that his father was very surprised—but proud!—that I'd been accepted into the agent training program so soon. It was such a stodgy Frank comment to make, but I couldn't be mad at him.

"Tell him thank you," I said. "It was a unique situation that lead to this though. If it wasn't for this new film financing department in LA that William is overseeing, I would not be going to LA, and William wouldn't have pushed for me to get into the program so soon."

Nina poked me in the shoulder. "Hey," she slurred, "no underselling yourself. You got into the program—it wouldn't have happened if they didn't see," she gestured at me, sloppily, while trying to find the right word, "something...in you."

"Okay," Nick laughed, "I think it's bedtime for you." Nina gave him a lazy smile.

"I should get going too," Ashley said, looking at the time on her phone. "It is a school night."

"I know." I stood on my tip-toes and scanned the crowd for Richard. "I'm going to head out soon too."

I hugged Ashley, then Nina, who snotted a little bit on my shoulder. "Parting is such sweet sorrow," she moaned as Nick gently pulled her off of me.

Wryly, I said, "You missed your calling as an actress, Nin," but the sarcasm was just a cover. I was blinking back tears.

After Ashley and Nina left, I found Richard on the shuffleboard table.

"Hey," he said, sending a puck across the table, "you ready to get out of here?"

I brushed my hip against his. "Ready if you're ready."

Richard knocked back the rest of his drink and wiped his arm across his mouth, grinning at me. "Ready."

We were almost at the door to the bar when it opened, and Peter stepped inside. He pulled his gloves off and breathed into his hands, acknowledging me over the brim of his fingertips with a single arch of his eyebrow. There was less than a body length between us, and I had no choice but to say hello.

"Hi," Peter said, sounding out of breath, "were you leaving?"

"We are," I said, sure to put the emphasis on the we. "This is Richard, my boyfriend. I think you guys met once before?"

"Right, right," Peter said, extending his hand. Richard took it and shook, a little more aggressively than he needed to.

No one said anything for a moment. Finally, I asked, "Peter, um, what are you doing here?"

"I got the Facebook invite thing," he said.

"You got the Facebook invite?" I repeated, incredulously. Richard, Nina, and Ashley created the event, and there was no way any of them would have invited him.

"Yeah," Peter said, "on my wall."

"On your wall?" I furrowed my eyebrows. "Or on your newsfeed?" Peter has never been very Facebook-savvy. In fact, I forgot we were even friends on Facebook, because he is not active at all.

"The wall," Peter mimed scrolling through a page, "with everyone's info."

Jesus Christ. "That's the newsfeed," I said, irritably. Peter had not been invited, he'd just seen the event on his newsfeed.

"Right, whatever," he said, either completely missing the point or doing a very good job at playing dumb. "I just thought I would stop by and try and see you before we're in LA. To, um, smooth things over." He glanced at Richard.

Richard leaned in and whispered in my ear, "I'm going to give you two some time to talk."

"No," I started, "Richard, you don't have to"—but Richard was already making his way to the back of the bar again.

"I'll make this quick," Peter said, noticing the frustration on my face. "I just felt like things got, I don't know, a little prickly, or whatever, between us, and I don't want it to be like that. We care about each other, I mean, at least I care about you, and I wouldn't want to do anything to jeopardize that standing."

It was a nice thing to say, but I was too hopped up on adrenaline, worried that Richard was irritated, to really appreciate it. "I get it," I said. "Thank you. Really. I don't want things to be awkward between us either."

Peter smiled. "Okay, good. I just had dinner in this neighborhood, and it seemed serendipitous when I saw the invite." He shrugged. "Just thought I'd swing by to say that."

"I appreciate it," I said, and even though I meant it as 'please leave immediately', I hoped he didn't read it that way.

"Glad we sorted this out," Peter said, stuffing his hands in his gloves again. "See you in LA."

As soon as the door closed behind him, I found Richard in the back. He was on the shuffleboard table again. "Hey," I said, "sorry about that. He was just trying to clear up a few things from the other night. I told you, it got a little tense between us. He just didn't want us going to LA annoyed with each other or whatever. Want to go now?"

Richard's eyes never left the board."We just started the game. I can meet you back at your place if you want."

"Okay," I said, unsure, "or I can just wait?"

"No," Richard said, "go. I know you're tired. I'll see you back there in a little." He gave me a quick peck on the cheek before turning his attention back to the game.



An hour passed, then another. Finally, around 1AM, I heard a knock. I jumped out of bed and scurried to my door. "Richard," I hissed when I saw him, "what the fuck? I thought you would be another half an hour at the most."

Richard brushed past me and plopped on my couch. "Sorry," he mumbled, "I was just...thinking."

I waited for him to say more but he didn't. "Thinking about what?"

Richard pointed his finger at me. "You," then at himself, "me. Us."

I felt all the wine from dinner turn sour in my stomach. "What is there to think about?"

Richard covered his face with his hands and groaned. "I don't know. A lot. I'm just...I'm just...." he dropped his hands and widened his eyes at the ground.

"You're just what?" I demanded, suddenly realizing how drunk he was.

When Richard looked up at me again, his eyes were glassy and red. "I'm no good for you."

"What?" I gasped, closing the distance between us. Richard leapt up from the couch and backed away from me like I had a gun in my hand. The fact that he wouldn't let me anywhere near him made me start to cry. I knew where this was going. "What are you saying?"

Richard couldn't even look at me. "That guy, Peter, that's the kind of guy you deserve to be with. Successful. I'm always going to be a deadbeat, Josie. I'm always going to hold you back. I want you to go to LA and love it and have the time of your life and not have to worry about your loser boyfriend back at home dealing with his family of Disgustingtons."

I shook my head violently. "It's not like that, Richard! God, don't you see? I don't care about all of that. I know you're going to be fine. You're brilliant and kind to your mom and I just know you're going to be fine." Richard still wouldn't look at me and I felt myself growing more and more desperate. "I don't want to be with Peter, Richard! I love you." My voice broke embarrassingly over the word 'you'.

Richard's shoulders slumped further down. "I love you too," he said, quietly.

"So then what's the problem?" I said, hope creeping back in. I loved him, he loved me, we could fix this. This was fixable. "We love each other, and that's all that matters."

Richard shook his head, sadly. "I'm breaking up with you because I love you."

I covered my mouth with my hand and heaved a sob into it. "I can't believe you," I whispered, more to myself than to him. Then louder, angrier, "I can't fucking believe you. No, you know what? I can." I brought my hands to either side of my head, like I was trying to soothe a migraine. "I knew you would fucking do this to me. I knew it." I was out of my mind with rage, and I didn't even realize I had lunged at him until Richard had my wrists in his hands, holding me back. That just undid me more, and I was screaming at him to get off me, not to touch me, and then his mouth was on mine. I didn't know whose tears I was tasting, mine or his, but I knew that I'd stopped pushing him away, and instead I was holding onto him for dear life.

Richard pulled away but continued to hold my face in his hands. "I'm sorry," he said, thumbing away a tear, "I'm so sorry." And like that, he was no longer touching me, was no longer standing in front of me, even. I heard the door close behind me and I crumbled up into a ball, right there on my dirty old floor, the one I can never get clean no matter how hard I scrubbed. What a piece of shit. Richard. This place. All of it.



"Okay!" Nance said brightly. "This is where I leave you."

We were standing a few feet from the entrance for airport security. Richard was supposed to see me off, but after what happened, I called my mom in tears and she took the train into the city the next morning to help me finish packing and accompany me to JFK. Twenty-six years old and I still need my mommy—yes, I'm aware of what a giant p-word I am.

"Mom," I croaked, burying my head in her neck.

"Josie, shhh," Nance said, stroking my hair. She pulled away and held me by the shoulders. "You are going to be fine, sweetheart. You are going to throw every ounce of yourself into your job and I promise you, it will help take your mind off Richard."

I wiped my face. "I know. You're right."

"This is why I've always pushed for you to find satisfaction in your career," she said. "Because no matter what goes wrong in your life, no one can take your success and your hard work from you. You will always be proud of yourself and feel good about yourself if you work hard."

I released a blubbery breath. "You're right again. I know you are. I think I just need to get there and be in it to really believe it."

"You do," Nance said, giving my shoulders a squeeze. "This is the hardest part, it really is. But your father and I are just so proud of you. Always remember that."

I gave her a little smile. "Thanks, mom." Her wool coat was scratchy on my face as I hugged her again.

"Just think," she said, as I hoisted my carry on bag onto my shoulder, "you're heading for the sunshine. You won't have to wear your winter coat once the whole time you're there."

I laughed. "I cannot wait to see the sun."

Nance clucked me under the chin and told me she loved me. She waited exactly where she was, even though it took me almost fifteen minutes to get through security. I gave her one last wave before heading off in the direction of my gate. The heel of my boots clicked like a metronome on the hard white floor, and with every step I thought, "I can, I can, I can."






Alright, LSPers! I will be on here to announce my good news the moment I can, and Josie will be back again in May. And thank you for all your love and encouragement in the comments section!