Connected: Part 4 of the On The Edge Series

"Hey." Billy was leaning against the doorjamb, watching me moisturize my face in the mirror.

"Hey, back at you," I offered.

"Do you think this stuff does anything?" He asked as he moved next to me and picked up a face serum.

"I don't know. I know it triggers my brain to know that I'm getting ready for bed," I admitted.

Billy silently nodded and set the bottle on the vanity before sliding up to sit next to it.

After a moment of silence, he began with "so..."

"So," I mirrored back to him while tapping on eye cream.

"How did your evening go?" He pushed with growing annoyance.

"Pretty good. Yours?"

"You love me, right?" Frustration permeated his voice.

I let my hands drop from my face and looked directly at him for the first time. "Someone is being very dramatic," I noted.

"Well, I think you love me, but it also seems you're actively trying to kill me right now. Did you know that stress is the leading killer of men over 40?"

"Actually, my love, heart disease is the leading cause of death of men in their 40s. Why do you think I keep trying to get you to eat a salad?"

Billy let out a groan. "How can you talk about vegetables at a time like this?"

"I can talk about vegetables any time. Did you know that for a while, people thought tomatoes were poisonous? The whole nightshade family, actually: eggplants, peppers, even potatoes." I continued with my skin routine as I spoke.

"It's official; you hate me. I'm in a loveless marriage," Billy lamented.

"And you aren't even married," I added.

"What does a stroke feel like? I have a shooting... no, maybe it's burning... I have a shooting, burning pain emanating from my right eye."

"Well, at least your theatrics are still healthy, so your career isn't in jeopardy."

"What exactly do you think I do?" Billy groaned.

"Presently... whine."

"You used to be so nice to me. I miss that."

"As far as Tess and Timmy know, James is still a virgin," I finally offered.

"Oh, thank God." Billy slumped into the bathroom wall in relief. "The talk with Viv went... it occurred. I don't know. There was a lot of both of us avoiding eye contact, and then she basically kicked me out of her room. I recall her uttering the word 'ew' many times."

"Nailed it," I teased to a very unimpressed Billy. "Well, I think it's safe to say that sex is being thought of by both because, you know, they're humans."

"What? No. What? No. What?"

"Oh, no. Are you broken?"

"Why in hell would you think Viv was thinking about sex?" Billy argued.

"Um, because she is a teen girl." I set down my final night cream to face Billy again.

"Yeah, girls don't think about sex," he asserted.

"I'm sorry; what?"

"I mean, it's not like boys," he added.

"Ah, girls think about sex all the time. I've thought about sex about sixty-three times since you came into the bathroom."

"Okay, first, you can't say about and sixty-three. You can say about sixty, or you can say sixty-three, but not about sixty-three."

"Actually, I just said 'about sixty-three,' so I'm one hundred percent certain that I can say about sixty-three."