muses_w_remotes | 9.10. Bruce Almighty
9.10. "God, why do you hate me?"
| Bruce Almighty
Co-written with paramedically | New Years Eve
Andrew limped into the Ali’s en suite bathroom and sunk down beside her on the floor beside the toilet. “Jamie’s sleeping. I brought a blanket and pillows with the baby monitor,” he told her and set to work wrapping the large throw rug around them both. He tucked his arm around her shoulders and hugged her against him with a small moan. “God hates me. First appendicitis, now this.” His watch beeped, signalling midnight… and the end of 2008. “Happy New Year to us.” There were no fireworks, no enthusiastic bursts of Auld Lang Syne, and certainly no New Years kisses.
Ali just groaned from somewhere in the vicinity of his arm pit. She shivered despite the blanket and rubbed miserably at her stomach. “I’m never eating takeout again,” she swore. Their original plan had been for them to go to the party at Luke’s bar and they had both been excited about it. One of Ali’s older friends from work was going to babysit Jamie and they were going to have a nice time at the party; their first social engagement as an official couple. The bad move had been the decision to have a late lunch of takeout Chinese food from the new place a few blocks away. Unusual for Ali, she opted for the vegetarian option so she and Andrew could share and it had been fun at the time. A pseudo-picnic on her living room floor while she tried to work the chopsticks and ended up with more down the front of her shirt than in her mouth. Still, she managed to eat some of it and now they were paying for it.
Food poisoning extraordinaire.
They had been starting to get ready for the party when Ali realised how queasy she was feeling. She had that nauseated sense that maybe she could be soon contemplating which end she needed to point at the toilet first. She tried to just ignore it and get ready, but it seemed to get worse and her stomach was making all sorts of unattractive noises to accompany the sensation. She hadn’t felt this nauseous since her morning sickness days and that was something she hadn’t wanted to relive until her daughter was at least twenty one. Even worse, she had to bite the bullet and go to Andrew to admit she was feeling off. She hadn’t expected in the slightest to find her boyfriend hunched over the kitchen sink revisiting the now evil Chinese lunch. She appreciated the view of his rear end in any case, but not like this. She went right out in sympathy for him, losing her own lunch in the trash can beside the fridge. It was the start of a very long and miserable evening together.
But at least they were together, no matter how unromantic.
Andrew managed a string of text messages to Luke giving their apologies for the party while he sat on the side of the bed hugging a bucket. The toilet was occupied by Ali at that point and she had firmly insisted she was most certainly not ready to vacate the bathroom yet. The following hours were swallowed up with them both taking turns to race for the bathroom and sharing the task of caring for the baby. Ali figured that as long as they were home they didn’t need the sitter’s services. She was still harbouring that maternal separation anxiety but she now really wished she had decided otherwise. They were both exhausted and gave up seeking refuge away from the bathroom. They rang in the New Year with a beep of Andrew’s watch cuddled up together in a shivering, sweating ball of misery together. “Tell me again why you’re a vegetarian?” Ali moaned and moved back to hover near the toilet again when her stomach churned in warning.
Andrew tucked one of the pillows behind his head against the bathtub and squeezed his eyes closed. “Don’t talk about food. I’m never eating again…” he mumbled. He put his hand on her back and rubbed it weakly. “You okay?”
“No,” Ali whimpered and reached behind her to squeeze his hand. “But I’m glad I’m not alone. You realise this is taking our ‘us’ thing to a whole other level. When you see each other doing the disgusting things we’ve been doing all night, there’s no going back. Even if you do get this cute horrified look on your face right before you puke.”
“I do not,” Andrew protested tiredly and then his forehead creased a little. “Do I? Well, you walk like a granny when you come out of the bathroom,” he offered back.
Ali curled back up against him, choosing instead to pull the bucket in quick grabbing distance. “I had a baby four weeks ago and my butt hurts. I’m allowed to be unattractive.”
“It’s cute,” Andrew clarified with a small smirk. He rested his cheek down on her ruffled hair and closed his eyes. “Even when you’re sick, I think you’re gorgeous.”
“Ditto,” Ali mumbled back with a hint of a smile. “I haven’t spent any nights at your place since we got together. I feel like a bad girlfriend.”
Andrew put his hand on her stomach and started to rub it softly through her pyjama top. “Don’t. My bed has nothing on yours, plus all Jamie’s stuff is here and it’s been a crap few weeks despite. We’re taking each day, remember? We’ll get there,” he promised. “Just as soon as we stop vomiting, among other things.”
Ali hummed in agreement. “But I just… I want to give you something,” she told him, eyes falling closed at his soothing rubs. Her own hand went to his stomach, matching his ministrations.
“You don’t have to give me anything,” Andrew assured her and kissed the top of her head. “Try and relax, sweetheart. We can wait it out together while it passes.”
“Yeah, but no,” Ali protested tiredly, opening her eyes to look up at him. “And that made me just sound like I really lack an education but I’m nauseous and I’m sticking to that as an excuse for as long as I can milk it. It worked through my whole first trimester and having a baby fried half my brain. But this is important, Andy.”
Andrew nodded. “Okay, what do you want to give me?”
Ali made a frustrated sound. “Well, I don’t have it yet but when I do, I want to give it to you,” she explained.
Andrew cleared his throat and blinked. “Is this the morning sickness or food poisoning talking now because I’m totally lost and suspect I may have puked my brain up at some point. I don’t have a baby to blame, so I’m going to blame the vegetable Chow Mein and I’m going to throw up-” He made a mad scramble for the toilet again, making it with barely a moment to spare.
Ali winced and rubbed his back, keeping her eyes averted. If she watched, she would be joining him all over again. “You’re right. It’s all the Chow Mein. But not this. I want to give you a key to my apartment. You know, so you can come whenever you want. I mean that innocently,” she added hastily for clarification. “Or maybe not always innocently. Holy fuck, when did I start being such a mouthy, unintelligible cow? You make me nervous. I don’t want to fuck this up but you don’t come with a rule book, which is okay… I like learning first hand, and I’ll shut up now so you can finish your spew.”
Andrew gave a grateful nod and did just that. When he was done, he dragged some toilet paper off the roll to wipe his mouth and closed the toilet lid to flush it. “You want to give me your key?” he asked hoarsely. “Are you sure?” He got up stiffly to go and rinse his mouth again. Between them, they had gone through nearly a whole bottle of Listerine in one evening.
“I’m sure,” Ali confirmed and stood up so she could cuddle up behind him, leaving the blanket and pillows in her wake. She met his eyes via the mirror. “In fact, I haven’t been sure about a lot of things in a long time until I met you. You make everything okay,” she told him softly.
Andrew turned his head so their noses brushed together lightly. “Ditto,” he told her with a smile. “Should we try and tough it out in bed for a little while? His and Hers buckets come part of the package.”
Ali exhaled slowly and kissed his jaw. “Sold,” she murmured.
Word Count | 1,447
| Bruce Almighty
Co-written with paramedically | New Years Eve
Andrew limped into the Ali’s en suite bathroom and sunk down beside her on the floor beside the toilet. “Jamie’s sleeping. I brought a blanket and pillows with the baby monitor,” he told her and set to work wrapping the large throw rug around them both. He tucked his arm around her shoulders and hugged her against him with a small moan. “God hates me. First appendicitis, now this.” His watch beeped, signalling midnight… and the end of 2008. “Happy New Year to us.” There were no fireworks, no enthusiastic bursts of Auld Lang Syne, and certainly no New Years kisses.
Ali just groaned from somewhere in the vicinity of his arm pit. She shivered despite the blanket and rubbed miserably at her stomach. “I’m never eating takeout again,” she swore. Their original plan had been for them to go to the party at Luke’s bar and they had both been excited about it. One of Ali’s older friends from work was going to babysit Jamie and they were going to have a nice time at the party; their first social engagement as an official couple. The bad move had been the decision to have a late lunch of takeout Chinese food from the new place a few blocks away. Unusual for Ali, she opted for the vegetarian option so she and Andrew could share and it had been fun at the time. A pseudo-picnic on her living room floor while she tried to work the chopsticks and ended up with more down the front of her shirt than in her mouth. Still, she managed to eat some of it and now they were paying for it.
Food poisoning extraordinaire.
They had been starting to get ready for the party when Ali realised how queasy she was feeling. She had that nauseated sense that maybe she could be soon contemplating which end she needed to point at the toilet first. She tried to just ignore it and get ready, but it seemed to get worse and her stomach was making all sorts of unattractive noises to accompany the sensation. She hadn’t felt this nauseous since her morning sickness days and that was something she hadn’t wanted to relive until her daughter was at least twenty one. Even worse, she had to bite the bullet and go to Andrew to admit she was feeling off. She hadn’t expected in the slightest to find her boyfriend hunched over the kitchen sink revisiting the now evil Chinese lunch. She appreciated the view of his rear end in any case, but not like this. She went right out in sympathy for him, losing her own lunch in the trash can beside the fridge. It was the start of a very long and miserable evening together.
But at least they were together, no matter how unromantic.
Andrew managed a string of text messages to Luke giving their apologies for the party while he sat on the side of the bed hugging a bucket. The toilet was occupied by Ali at that point and she had firmly insisted she was most certainly not ready to vacate the bathroom yet. The following hours were swallowed up with them both taking turns to race for the bathroom and sharing the task of caring for the baby. Ali figured that as long as they were home they didn’t need the sitter’s services. She was still harbouring that maternal separation anxiety but she now really wished she had decided otherwise. They were both exhausted and gave up seeking refuge away from the bathroom. They rang in the New Year with a beep of Andrew’s watch cuddled up together in a shivering, sweating ball of misery together. “Tell me again why you’re a vegetarian?” Ali moaned and moved back to hover near the toilet again when her stomach churned in warning.
Andrew tucked one of the pillows behind his head against the bathtub and squeezed his eyes closed. “Don’t talk about food. I’m never eating again…” he mumbled. He put his hand on her back and rubbed it weakly. “You okay?”
“No,” Ali whimpered and reached behind her to squeeze his hand. “But I’m glad I’m not alone. You realise this is taking our ‘us’ thing to a whole other level. When you see each other doing the disgusting things we’ve been doing all night, there’s no going back. Even if you do get this cute horrified look on your face right before you puke.”
“I do not,” Andrew protested tiredly and then his forehead creased a little. “Do I? Well, you walk like a granny when you come out of the bathroom,” he offered back.
Ali curled back up against him, choosing instead to pull the bucket in quick grabbing distance. “I had a baby four weeks ago and my butt hurts. I’m allowed to be unattractive.”
“It’s cute,” Andrew clarified with a small smirk. He rested his cheek down on her ruffled hair and closed his eyes. “Even when you’re sick, I think you’re gorgeous.”
“Ditto,” Ali mumbled back with a hint of a smile. “I haven’t spent any nights at your place since we got together. I feel like a bad girlfriend.”
Andrew put his hand on her stomach and started to rub it softly through her pyjama top. “Don’t. My bed has nothing on yours, plus all Jamie’s stuff is here and it’s been a crap few weeks despite. We’re taking each day, remember? We’ll get there,” he promised. “Just as soon as we stop vomiting, among other things.”
Ali hummed in agreement. “But I just… I want to give you something,” she told him, eyes falling closed at his soothing rubs. Her own hand went to his stomach, matching his ministrations.
“You don’t have to give me anything,” Andrew assured her and kissed the top of her head. “Try and relax, sweetheart. We can wait it out together while it passes.”
“Yeah, but no,” Ali protested tiredly, opening her eyes to look up at him. “And that made me just sound like I really lack an education but I’m nauseous and I’m sticking to that as an excuse for as long as I can milk it. It worked through my whole first trimester and having a baby fried half my brain. But this is important, Andy.”
Andrew nodded. “Okay, what do you want to give me?”
Ali made a frustrated sound. “Well, I don’t have it yet but when I do, I want to give it to you,” she explained.
Andrew cleared his throat and blinked. “Is this the morning sickness or food poisoning talking now because I’m totally lost and suspect I may have puked my brain up at some point. I don’t have a baby to blame, so I’m going to blame the vegetable Chow Mein and I’m going to throw up-” He made a mad scramble for the toilet again, making it with barely a moment to spare.
Ali winced and rubbed his back, keeping her eyes averted. If she watched, she would be joining him all over again. “You’re right. It’s all the Chow Mein. But not this. I want to give you a key to my apartment. You know, so you can come whenever you want. I mean that innocently,” she added hastily for clarification. “Or maybe not always innocently. Holy fuck, when did I start being such a mouthy, unintelligible cow? You make me nervous. I don’t want to fuck this up but you don’t come with a rule book, which is okay… I like learning first hand, and I’ll shut up now so you can finish your spew.”
Andrew gave a grateful nod and did just that. When he was done, he dragged some toilet paper off the roll to wipe his mouth and closed the toilet lid to flush it. “You want to give me your key?” he asked hoarsely. “Are you sure?” He got up stiffly to go and rinse his mouth again. Between them, they had gone through nearly a whole bottle of Listerine in one evening.
“I’m sure,” Ali confirmed and stood up so she could cuddle up behind him, leaving the blanket and pillows in her wake. She met his eyes via the mirror. “In fact, I haven’t been sure about a lot of things in a long time until I met you. You make everything okay,” she told him softly.
Andrew turned his head so their noses brushed together lightly. “Ditto,” he told her with a smile. “Should we try and tough it out in bed for a little while? His and Hers buckets come part of the package.”
Ali exhaled slowly and kissed his jaw. “Sold,” she murmured.
Word Count | 1,447