Avery Comes Clean to His Colleagues

I’d been so nervous about telling my co-workers that Jack and I were finished, although I’m not sure why. I guess I was afraid of being judged. No one wants to look like a failure, particularly with colleagues. Losing the respect of your colleagues can feel like a death in the family. Think about it. The average person spends more waking hours at work than anywhere else. No one wants to be the outcast. No matter how we dress it up, the world is really just one big high school.

The women I work with, however, surprised me. They weren’t judgmental at all. In fact, they were more supportive than I could have ever imagined. They also felt obliged to let me in on their true feelings about Jack.

“I never thought that the two of you were a perfect match”

“I concur. He was a bit uppity for my tastes.”

“I heard that. Always looking down his nose—as if his doo-doo don’t stink!”

Thanks, ladies. Perhaps—next time—you’d care to share your thoughts before I move in, merge finances and purchase an apartment with an uppity doo-doo head? That’s alright. It’s the thought that counts.

I left my shift in a much better mood than when I’d arrived. Jack’s and my conversation, the horrible rainy weather and my fender bender were a distant memory. I even made my usual small talk with Simms the doorman, before boarding the lift to “heaven on 14”, wear a big glass of wine and a Unisom awaited me.

When the elevator reached my floor, I calmly walked toward our apartment. My apartment. Maybe Jack moving out wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. I’d been single before. There really are worse things than being alone, such as… such as… I give you examples later.

I put the key in the lock and turned. The door slowly swung open. Everything was eerily quiet. I stepped into the entry way and slowly made my way into the living room. My jaw dropped. I could not believe what I was witnessing.

Avery Learns That Reinforcements Will Be Arriving Soon

Surprisingly, I was only 20 minutes late for work. I quickly found a parking spot and raced into the hospital. Just as I was about to step in to the elevator my cell phone rang. I answered.

“Sorry I missed your call,” Jasper said, “I was at the liquor store.” He’d been where I desperately wanted to be. “I saw you called,” he continued, “What’s up.”

“Nothing,” I replied, covering. “Just a little car accident.”

“What?!?!” he exclaimed. I could hear a glass crashing in the background.

 “It’s no big deal,” I assured him. “It was just a little fender bender. No real damage was done.”

Jasper got quiet. “Hello?” I asked. Still nothing. After a moment I could hear the sound of ice in a cocktail shaker.

“Sorry,” Jasper finally replied, “refill time.” Jasper took a moment to sip his freshly made martini then continued. “I can’t let you do this.”

“Do what?” I asked. I tried to play innocent but knew exactly what he was driving at.

“You’re self-destructing.

“Nonsense.” I was covering and he knew it.

“Avery, you crashed your car. Have you seen a therapist?”

“Yes.” I replied sheepishly.

“Oh my goodness. You’ve got a crush on him!”

“Do not!” I protested. I was lying through my teeth. This is the problem with friends you’ve had since childhood. They know all too well how to read between the lines. This can be both a blessing and a curse. In this instance, however, it was a blessing.

“Well, I’m putting an end to this,” Jasper continued.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I’m coming to Chicago. I arrive on Friday.”

With that, Jasper excused himself to tend to arriving guests. I hung up the phone and got on the elevator. At that moment, I knew that things were going to be looking up.

Avery Loves Psychobabble

I left Dr. Drexel Carrington’s office on cloud nine. My secret crush on him aside, the previous 45 minutes left me feel reinvigorated. Under the good doctor’s guidance, I was going to “breakthrough” this “mental crisis” and “reaffirm” my “self-worth”. I love psychobabble.

The sun shone brightly as I sauntered down Michigan Avenue. Everyone seemed to be smiling. Today was going to be a good day. First, I’d head home and take a luxurious bubble bath. Next, I’d treat myself to lunch at Pelago, followed by a drink at the Signature Lounge. Touristy, I know. But I can think of no better place to make a person feel as though he were on top of the world. The afternoon would conclude with a little retail therapy at Ralph. Mr. Lauren always makes me happy.

This renewed energy must have been written across my face. The moment I entered my building Simms, the daytime doorman, returned my smiled.

“You’re in excellent spirits, Avery. Didya win the lottery or something?”

“Nope.” I replied. “Jack’s moving out.”

I didn’t stop walking until I reached the elevator. I can only imagine the puzzled look on Simms’ ruggedly handsome, middle-aged face.

Once I’d reached the 14^th floor, I headed toward my front door intent on making lemonade out of lemons, sangria out of sour grapes, apple martinis out of rotten—well, you get the idea. There was a lot that still needed to be determined. When would Jack be moving out? What would we do about separating our finances? How were we going to get out of this real estate contract?

I shook those thoughts out of my head. Those thoughts were for later. This day of self-pampering would help me prepare for that discussion. This day would help me find that calm and collected space. Later, when Jack returned, I would be ready to broach these topics in a rational and civilized manner.

That was the plan. My smile, however, faded as I entered my apartment. Jack was back.

Avery Meets Dr. Carrington

The sun pierced through my floor-to-ceiling bedroom windows. The Following the dramatic The previous evening’s confrontation between Jack and I had been so dramatic, I’d neglected to draw the blinds. I looked at the clock. 10:30AM. My appointment with Dr. Drexel Carrington was scheduled for 11:30.

I didn’t feel like getting dressed. I couldn’t be bothered to brush my teeth. And I had absolutely no interest in spilling my cuts to an old guy in an armchair. All I wanted to do was crawl back under the covers and not wake up for at least three months. I psyched myself up for the journey. I’d quickly get ready, hop on over, tell the old man my woes and be back in bed with a carton of Häagen-Dazs and a bar of Toblerone before the opening credits of “The Bold and the Beautiful” had completed rolling.

Jack had not returned home after storming out. As I brushed my teeth, showered and dressed for my outing, I wondered if he ever would. Although I’d resigned myself to the fact that our relationship really was over, I couldn’t help but wonder how we’d go about dissolving our partnership.

Most of our possessions, like artwork, clothing and electronics, were considered jointly owned. The laptop that I write these very words with, for example, was purchased by Jack as a birthday present for me. Should I now return it? Likewise, should I repossess the watches and jewelry I’d gifted him over the years? And what about belongings that one of us brought into the relationship that the other couldn’t bear to part with? (The majority of our vast Disney DVD collection belonged to Jack, but I’d kill him before I’d let him leave with “Beauty and the Beast!”).

It took me no time to get to the good doctor’s office. Actually, the good doctor’s office was an apartment. Dr. Drexel Carrington runs his practice out of the library of his Gold Coast condominium. The doorman announced my arrival and pointed me toward the mahogany paneled elevator.

You can do this, I said to myself. Just forty-five minutes, and you’ll be back in the comfort of your 500 thread-count Egyptian cotton sheets, where you can feel sorry for yourself all afternoon.

Once I’d reached the fifth floor, I made my way to apartment 502. I lightly tapped on the door.

“Just a moment,” came the voice from the inside.

Funny. He didn’t sound like an old fuddy-duddy. After a moment, the door swung open and I came face to face with the man I would come to know my darkest innermost thoughts and secrets.

“Hello,” he said. “You must be Avery. I’m Dr. Carrington. Please come in.”

I couldn’t speak. Dr. Carrington was drop dead gorgeous. Good think I decided on brushing my teeth.

Avery Searches for a Bloody Mary

Step one of my New York mea culpa was let Jack know exactly how committed I was to mending and fortifying our relationship. Jasper and I immediately sprang into action the morning after my arrival. Well, not immediately.

Following the previous night’s wine binge, Jasper and I woke with awful hangovers. Jasper’s husband Robert, who makes the best red snappers in the universe, had already left for his office. We were forced to fend for ourselves. After multiple false starts and four cups of coffee, we managed to dress and leave the apartment.

Avery Meets His Neighbors

How could my doctor be so stupid? His missing license number was the only thing standing between mental piece of mind and me. I sighed, resigning to the fact that I would have to wait another day to get my Xanax prescription refilled. After purchasing a large bottle of Advil— a consolation prize of sorts—, I made the disappointing journey home.

Avery Goes to Lanford

“Hello?” I timidly said into my cell phone. Although I was hopeful that Jack would be on the other end of the line, I was also afraid to speak with him. What can you possibly say to someone who has told you that they’re no longer in love with you? Unfortunately, or luckily, I wouldn’t find out just yet.

You see, I have the unfortunate luck of having a telephone number that is extremely similar to that of a certain Rush Street restaurant. I’ve been politely redirecting callers to the correct number for nearly seven years. When this evening’s caller asked if I had a four top available for 9:30, I aloofly told her that we were closed for renovations. I was not in the mood helpful or polite.

Avery Hearts Xanax, Part II

Startled and disoriented are the two words that best describe how I felt when I awoke from my Unisom induced coma. The bedside alarm clock displayed 6:21 PM. I’d slept for nearly 10 hours. “What a crazy dream,” I thought to myself, “Can’t wait to tell Jack.” As I stepped out of bed, Bouncer, my black cat, yowled in the other room. A wave of panic set in.