Monica speaks to Gerard about his behavior at dinner, Ray and Christa try to get their packing done.
Gerard walked into the bedroom to get his packing done. He wanted to spend the rest of the evening with Monica. Directly behind him Monica strolled into the room and slammed the door shut.
“What is your problem?” she asked trying to control the volume of her voice.
Gerard had been afraid of this. Ever since he had seen the look she gave him in the restaurant he had figured this was coming. He decided to give a shot at pretending he didn’t understand. “What?”
Monica rolled her eyes, “Don’t even pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. You were rude to Bob and Kara.”
“No I wasn’t,” He said walking over to his open suitcase sitting on the bed. He saw the Star War’s pajama pants and felt a sharp pain of regret. “Fuck” he whispered. “I don’t want to go.”
Monica felt some of her anger dissipate. He was leaving in the morning. She didn’t want to fight with him. Softy she told him, “You really were rude.”
He sat down heavily on the bed beside the suitcase. “I don’t know why I acted like that. I guess I was just sorta bummed to see them.”
Monica crossed the room and sat by him, “Why?”
He shook his head slowly, “I don’t know. I guess it just makes me sad that things were so much better before. Now Kara looks at me like something she found stuck to the bottom of her shoe. She didn’t want to eat with us either.”
“Things were better before? Do you mean before she married Bob? Gee that’s not true.”
He looked over at her, “Okay then why does she hate me?”
Monica sighed, “She doesn’t really hate you. It’s just that she doesn’t trust you.” God, she hated saying it out loud.
He lit a cigarette and exhaled, “Cause of what I fucking did on tour right? Cause she and Bob almost broke up over all that shit.”
Shaking her head sadly Monica tried to explain, “Partly but cause I’m her mom and cause she saw how hurt I was by it.”
He took another drag inhaling the smoke deep into his lungs, “How many times do I have to say how fucking sorry I am? What can I do?”
“It’ll just take time.” Monica told him reaching out to touch his face, “Just time.”
“Fuck I don’t want to leave,” he said again lowering his head.
Monica forced herself to smile. “You gotta. It’s your job. Come on. I’ll help you get packed. When we’re done we’ll go out on the deck and talk about our wedding invitation list.”
His mood suddenly improved, “Yeah, wedding plans. We need to work on our wedding plans.”
Ray looked up from the guitar he was holding in his hands when he heard the laughter. He wondered what Christa was laughing about in the bedroom. She was supposed to be packing. He sat the guitar down and smiled to himself. In true Christa form she had put off packing until the last minute. He had been packed and ready to go for days but whenever he mentioned packing to her she would just shrug and say she would get to it sooner or later. He was shocked when he walked into the bedroom and saw his own suitcase laying open on the bed. Christa was looking at it and giggling.
“What?” he asked clearly confused.
Christa turned to him, “Sorry I just wanted to see how many shirts you packed.” She held up her hands, “Promise I didn’t mess up anything.”
Ray crossed the room to stand beside her, “That’s okay but what are you laughing about?”
Christa threw her arms around him, “Your stuff is packed so neat and orderly and your tee-shirts are…” She started laughing again. “Sorry” She hiccupped trying to stop the giggles.
“Neat and orderly and what?” His voice rumbled deeply tickling her ear, which she had laid against his chest.
“And in alphabetical order.” She squeaked.
Ray laid his chin on the top of her head. “Are not” He said eying the suitcase.
“They are so in alphabetical order. Your band tee’s are in alphabetical order.” She leaned back to look him in the eyes.
He considered the possibility she was right for a moment. Finally he shook his head, “Well if they are its just cause I grabbed them out of the closet that way.” He leaned down and kissed her soft lips. “Want me to mess them up?”
Christa enjoyed kissing him again before answering, “Oh hell no. I think it’s cute.”
“Cute? You think the way I pack is cute?” he tried to sound put out.
“Totally cute, Ray.”
His lips found hers again. He spoke softly, “Just so you don’t call me cute.”
“No” Christa said leaning into him. “Your packing is cute but you’re not.” She ran her hands under his tee then up his back. “You are hot.”
Ray pulled away and turned to the bed. With one swoop he pushed the suitcase off the bed. It’s contents spilled out. “Not in order now.” He said while pulling Christa toward the bed.
She laughed, “Damn I’m messing up your orderly world again.”
Ray fell on the bed pulling her down on top of his body. “You sure the hell are, babe. You sure the hell are.”
Packing would just have to wait.