Hey, it had been a while for me. A good, long while. I can honestly say, it had never been so good either.
“You know, if Kendra hadn’t been cooking for us all these years, we’d each weigh about four hundred pounds by now,” Christian said, twisting his fork around a large mass of take-out spaghetti.
“Easily,” I agreed. “But with garlic bread like this at our disposal, could you really blame us?” He leaned over and stole a bite. It really was delicious.
“We’re probably doomed, a household without a cook. Unless one of us takes a cooking class.”
I laughed, hoping he couldn’t detect my nervousness. That wasn’t the first time in our post-coital hours together he’d brought up the future. Naturally, Christian was operating under the assumption that getting together in the ‘biblical’ sense, at least for us, meant officially getting together. Like
forever.
Marriage and kids and a little farmhouse and dogs and… well…
The idea of it all scared me to death. I followed my heart to Christian, but once I reached my destination, I was a bit unclear about what would happen next. What
could
happen next, under the circumstances?
Sunday afternoon, we took showers—or rather,
a
shower, of the sexy variety—and got dressed. He kissed me goodbye with the comfort of a long-time lover, grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.
“Don’t forget,” he said over his shoulder. “Birch’s at six tonight. We’ll tell Kendra together.”
I nodded, that familiar lump wedged in my throat, silencing my voice box. I knew Kendra would figure it out on her own if we didn’t tell her ourselves, and then she’d be pissed we were keeping secrets. Still, something held me back from spreading the good news. I didn’t even know what to call us anymore. Despite my desire to wait on making any announcements, Christian was dead-set on letting our friends and family in on our new-found happiness.
I got back into the shower—to actually use it for its intended purpose—and let the hot water run over me in the hopes of quelling the screaming voice in my head.
What are you doing? What are you doing? What are you doing to Christian?
It wasn’t working.
I dressed, careful to avoid anything too sexy or revealing, since we seemed to have enough trouble keeping our hands off one another. Then I checked email, retrieved the mail from my mailbox downstairs, and started making some preparations to pack for Chicago. I thought I’d been addressing the issue fairly logically until I opened up that suitcase. A fresh wave of guilt punched me in the stomach, nearly knocking the wind out of me.
Tonight. I had to tell him about the new job tonight. “Christian,” I practiced in front of the mirror. “I have something important to tell you. I’m moving to…” No, I couldn’t do it like that. “Christian, I’m sorry. This weekend was a mistake because I’m…” No, that’s not right either. “Christian, I’m an idiot.” Much better.
Maybe I should just leave and not say anything…
****
Christian picked me up and drove to Birch’s—the first odd thing about an otherwise routine meet-up. He held my hand in the car—weird thing number two—and beamed from ear-to-ear, clearly bursting with the excitement.
Claudia, the usual week-night hostess at Birch’s, sat us at our usual table and put in our usual drink order, tapped Robert to be our usual server, and left us alone while she alerted Kendra of our arrival. I slid into the booth first and Christian slipped in next to me, wrapping one arm around my shoulders. Claimed territory, gentlemen.
“Oh. My. God.” Kendra’s voice made it to the table before she did. I straightened up, resisting the urge to shake off Christian’s arm. When she finally came into view, still wearing her chef’s coat, she had a mischievous smile slapped onto her face. “You two
did
it! I’m calling Grant, right now.”
Aside from the breaking news story, dinner with the four of us seemed perfectly…normal. We sat in the same seats, ate the same food, laughed all the same. The only real change was in the chemistry happening on my side of the booth, and the madness reeling in my brain. Weird, weird, weird. Everything was weird.
I saw all our regular activities through new lenses. Christian offered me a forkful of his pot roast and it was like some strange kind of foreplay. His elbow brushed against mine and I wanted to tear off his clothes. Every time our eyes connected, I felt a jolt of electricity. Kendra just sat on her side of the booth, a knowing smile screwed tightly onto her face.
She followed me into the bathroom after the dinner plates had been cleared from the table, and slapped me on the arm.
“You listened to me! I can’t believe this,” Kendra was beaming when she tackled me in a hug. “You
never
follow my advice. I’m so proud of you.”
I struggled against her crushing grasp. “Thanks.”
She let me go and I filled my lungs with fresh air, just in case there would be a secondary attack. “So… I guess I’m supposed to ask you those girlfriend questions now, right?”
I frowned at her. “You really want to know the gory details?”
She paused for a minute, chewing on her lip. “I guess you’re right. It’s kind of weird for me, talking about Christian like that. He’s like my brother, so… I’ll pass.” She washed her hands in the sink and I reached for a paper towel to dry my own. A moment later, she twisted the tap off and sprinkled water in my face. “You’re killing me, Tess. At least tell me how he was.”
I grinned, concentrating on drying my hands.
“Shut up!” she hit me again. “I’m so glad you’re not moving to Chicago!” The second hug came just as powerfully as the first, just as I opened my mouth to tell her. As we stood there, Kendra happier than she’d been in months, I just couldn’t do it. I let the moment pass and we rejoined the guys for dessert.
“Well, it’s finally time to make it official,” she said, shifting topics away from me and my new boyfriend—oh
weird
—onto herself. “We’re expecting! I’m due the sixteenth of November.”
Even though we both knew, Christian and I made a big fuss over the announcement. Underneath the table, he squeezed my hand and I knew what it meant before I looked into his eyes. He wanted that, what Kendra and Grant had. Marriage. Family. Vacations. Everything I’d sworn I never ever wanted from my life—except vacations, sexy vacations. Although his life goals weren’t a surprise to me, the previous seventy-hours was the first time I’d been factored into his picture of the future…well, at least to my knowledge. Christian wanted a family and he wanted it with me.
Crap.
I babysat all the time in high school, enough to put away some money for my college textbooks and some of the tuition. It was not a favorite past-time of mine, but I did it because that’s what teenage girls did for work back then. I would sit on the couch after the kids went to bed, exhausted and harried, often chatting on the phone with Kendra or Christian to pass the remaining time.
“I could never do this,” I often said to Christian. “These kids are crazy.”
He always laughed. “Come on, it’s not so bad. My dad always says that when the kids are yours, it’s more fun than it is work.”
“Maybe… But I don’t think I’m cut out for this stuff.”
As I lay in bed that night, remembering the earliest of my vows for a child-free future, Christian stirred slightly in his sleep. Although he hadn’t mentioned children at all that night after dinner, I couldn’t help thinking it was on his mind as he ripped of my clothes and had his way with me. I mean, after the first few minutes, I forgot about that completely and just enjoyed the action—but at first, I wondered if it turned him on. I knew what he wanted from his life. By the same token, he knew what I wanted from mine. How could this end without one of us getting hurt?
****
By Tuesday afternoon, I couldn’t hide from Savannah anymore. I’d made a point to avoid her in the kitchenette, at lunch time, and during meetings. Her eyes were puffy and red two days running and I knew I was in for a long, tearful conversation when she finally caught up to me. Unfortunately, she finally decided to track me down in the one place I was sure to be a captive audience: my office.
I was busily working on a to-do list to get my head straight for Chicago when my office door flew open and slammed into the wall. The reverberations knocked one of Christian’s prints free of its nail. It crashed to the floor, sending shards of glass in every direction, tearing through the photo of the daisies.
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I just had to see you!” Savannah, a sobbing mess, wrung her hands. Pain consumed her face, reminding me of those sad-faced clowns at the circus. Granted, the running mascara pooling beneath her eyes might have played a factor. “It’s Christian! He dumped me!”
“I know,” I said coldly, so not in the mood for any additional drama atop the huge conflict battling in my brain. Besides, did she honestly think Christian didn’t tell me everything? It was bad enough that she thought he’d never be interested in me, but to insult the depth of our friendship like that…
“You knew? Did you know he was going to do it? You could have warned me! I don’t know what I did wrong! I was a perfect girlfriend! I wanted to have his babies, Tess. I’m still in love with him! What am I supposed to now?” She was manic, pounding her fist on the back of the wingback chair so hard it came up off the front legs every time. I bolted up from my desk and closed the door.
“Keep it down,” I scolded, handing her my dust pan and hand-broom to clean up the broken glass. “This is really inappropriate.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry. I don’t have anyone else to talk to.”
What the hell was she talking about? She had about eighty-five friends in the office. I ignored her and just decided that the fastest way to get her out of here was to just let her cry it out. I gingerly removed the print from the mangled frame, careful to keep the torn sides in line with each other, and brought it back to my desk. While Savannah rambled about making babies, I taped the tear back together to the best of my ability. When I flipped it back right-side up, it was back together but it didn’t look quite right.
Savannah was still gabbing away. “I didn’t even see this coming. He just said there was someone else, but I have no idea how that happened. He never mentioned any—Did he say something to you? I need to get him back, Tess. Please help me.”
At that, I put my hand in the air, a very Marty-like gesture to stop her talking. It worked, as it had on Jake and other interns many times over—myself included. “Savannah, please. I have a raging headache, I’ve got a lot on my mind right now and I’m sorry, but I can’t do anything to help you. Could you leave me out of this? I’m not the person you should be talking to about it anyway.”
“What do you mean?”
That competitive gene in me wanted a small victory against her. It was petty and stupid, especially because it turned Christian into a pawn, made what we had seem like a game. I just wanted her to see how she’d underestimated me. And my charm? Good looks? Whatever it was that made Christian love me over her.
My stomach clenched. I needed her to get out. “He did tell me something, you know. Christian did. He said you tried too hard at being perfect. It annoyed him.”
“Then I’ll try trying less hard.” The irony of her own words was lost on her.
“I don’t think that’s going to work,” I replied stiffly. “If there’s someone else, don’t you think it’s better for you to move on?”
Savannah hung her head, the wind officially knocked from her sails. “Okay. Good luck, Tess. And congratulations on the promotion. I’m going to miss you.”
“Thank you.” I forced a smile. “I’ll… miss you too.”
“Keep in touch?” she looked at me hopefully. I understood then that without her social time, Savannah was lost. She valued the human connection above most other things, except the gift of her own voice box. She needed this interaction, these relationships, to survive. It wasn’t that deplorable, I just found it grating. Maybe from Chicago it wouldn’t be so bad.
“Sure. Email’s best.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
For over a week I lived a double life. At Prime, the universe was buzzing with the announcement of my promotion and pending transfer to Chicago. At home, Christian and I were playing house and enjoying the bliss of being a new couple. I liked both feelings so much that my good mood carried through my deceit. Out one side of my mouth, I talked big about the move, and out the other, I told Christian how much I cared about him.
It wasn’t until nighttime came, when the silence invited my deepest, darkest thoughts to come out and play, that I really thought about what I was doing. I spent several nights tossing and turning, alone with my insomnia and the dull ache in my heart. Almost worse than cheating on him, I was keeping the truth from Christian. He needed to know what was happening. Eventually, I had to get on a plane.
Running away wasn’t my style, but it seemed an appealing option in light of breaking Christian’s heart and facing death by Kendra’s cooking tools. Still, after a second weekend spent in bed with him, I had to tell Christian the truth.