by Maren Foster
“I’m fine. How are you?”
“Great. Ali and Soren are over helping me get the early leaves in the yard bagged for pick-up.”
“Do you have a minute?”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“I’m engaged,” I said.
“What? I didn’t even know you were dating someone special!”
“Yeah, I didn’t want to jinx it,” I lied.
“How long have you two been together?”
“It’s been about a year now, I guess.”
“You’ve been dating someone for a year and you didn’t tell me or your sister?”
“I’m sorry. I kept meaning to tell you, but I didn’t want you to get all worked up about it, in case it didn’t last,” I lied.
“All worked up! Who me? Why would I get worked up?”
“Because I know how you feel about marriage.”
“Freddie, just because I’m not married doesn’t mean I think you shouldn’t get married. You are a little young, but if you are happy and he’s the right guy for you, then congratulations,” she said. “I’m very happy for you.”
“Thank you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” I said.
Silence permeated the space between us. Finally, she broke it, “What’s his name? Where’s he from? What does he do?”
“His name is Nate. He’s from Connecticut. He has his own business. He’s really successful actually.”
“Great, I can’t wait to hear more about him!”
“Yeah, of course. You’ll have to meet him next time you’re in New York.”
“Of course!”
“How are you? What’s going on at home?” I asked.
“I’m thinking I might finally sell the house next spring, so I’m starting to take inventory of what needs to be cleaned up or fixed around here.”
“Oh wow. Where do you think you’ll move?”
“I’m thinking maybe downtown.”
“Chicago?”
“Yeah, I have a few good friends downtown because of work, and I think it might be nice to be downtown before I get too old and you girls stick me in a retirement home in the ‘burbs.”
“Hah, you’re not that old!”
“Not yet, but I will be. Hey, I gotta go, Ali’s yelling for me. I’m sorry. Congrats on your engagement, Freddie!”
“Thanks!”
The Play
Saturday, September 17, 2016
Chelsea
Nate was already gone, presumably at his office or the gym, when I woke up on Saturday morning. We’d begun ordering furniture for the condo, but it still wasn’t quite ready to be lived in, so most of my stuff was back at the apartment. I ran a few errands on my way back. I hadn’t entirely finished putting away my summer wardrobe and the weather had started to change. I pulled two large plastic storage bins out from under my bed and began swapping out summer clothes for soft wool sweaters, long pants, and a variety of colored tights. I got a bar stool from the kitchen and perched myself on top, reaching to carefully swap out the clothes on the top shelf of my tiny closet. I didn’t hear the door to my room open as Nate snuck up behind me.
“Irresistible!” he barked from right underneath me.
My heart jumped. The stool jilted. I flew up into the air. He caught me and held on tight. I tried to wriggle free, my adrenaline pumped aggressively. He held me tight and kissed me. When he pulled back, I looked him directly in the eyes. It was clear that he thought he was being romantic. Adrenaline coursed through my body and my heart beat wildly. Will I ever feel safe again? I struggled against him and finally wriggled free. I hurried out of the bedroom.
“What’s wrong?” he yelled after me.
My roommate, Jordan, was curled up on the couch in our small living room.
“You okay?” she asked as I ran out the front door.
I struggled to breathe. It felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. I have to get out. I can’t do this!
“Fine,” I yelled back, as I ran out the door, down the stairs and out onto the street. I could feel him close behind me.
I kept walking.
“Hey! Stop!” he yelled.
I turned around. “You scared me,” I said, crossing my arms to stop them shaking.
He smiled. “Hey, it was nothing. Come here.”
He held his arms out.
I have no choice. I have to calm down. I took a deep breath.
“You’re stronger than you think,” I said.
He nodded and pulled me toward him.
“It’s fine. It was nothing.” He wrapped his arms around me.
Relax. Breathe.
I let him hold me.
This is it. I can’t fuck this up and go back to thinking about him every waking minute, wondering where he is and what he’s doing.
After what felt like a long time, I pulled my face away from his chest and looked up. “I’ve been thinking. I can ask my mom for a loan for the wedding,” I said.
The corners of his lips curled slightly. “Don’t be silly, my money is your money,” he said.
“But the woman’s family traditionally pays.”
“What is this? 1920? I have more than either of us need.”
I smiled. “Okay.”
“I’ll take care of everything, don’t worry.” He squeezed me against his chest. “Here. I ordered this for you.”
He handed me a black American Express card.
“Oh my gosh! Thank you.” I admired my name in embossed silver across the bottom of the card. I leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on his lips.
He held my hand as we walked back to my apartment.
“It’s going to be difficult to find a church with a pastor that we both like in time for the wedding,” I said. “I’ve heard that churches book up years in advance in New York City.”
“Mmmm hmmm. We’ll figure it out.”
“There is one thing I’ve been meaning to talk to you about,” he said when we were back in my room.
“Sure. What is it?”
He turned and pulled a legal sized envelope out of his leather shoulder bag.
“Look,” he said, “I love you.”
That’s the second time he’s said it! I checked myself and smiled subtly.
He continued, “If you want to quit your job tomorrow, stay home, have kids, and never work again, no problem.”
He paused to let me appreciate his generous offer, and then continued, “But, a man has to protect what he has worked hard to earn.”
I took the envelope and pulled out a stack of papers. A fancy gold clip held them together. The cover page was almost entirely blank with block lettering in the center that read:
Ellis Prenuptial Agreement
Sterns, Morgan, and Parker, LLC
Esteemed Partners in Law
September 7, 2016
You cheap bastard! I should have known. “Looks like some enthralling bedtime reading,” I teased, trying my best to produce a natural, casual smile.
“You’ll sign it, right?” he asked.
“Today?”
“Why not?”
Stall. “Because my mom’s a lawyer and if there’s one extremely boring, but useful lesson I’ve learned from her, it’s that you never know what’s hidden in the fine print.”
“Don’t you trust me?” he asked tenderly.
“Of course I do. I love you. But a woman has to protect herself too. Plus, there are some things that are important to me too.”
“Like?”
“Like Greenwich.”
“Ugh, what is it with you and Greenwich?”
“I just like it. I thought when we got married we would move there together.”
I put my arms around his waist. “Once you sell your condo, maybe we can go look at a few houses over there, together.”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Thank you.”
I slid the prenup back into the envelope.
“What do you want to do tonight?” he said.
<
br /> “I don’t know. I told Jordan I’d go out with her and the girls tonight.”
“I was thinking we could stay in. Watch a movie. You don’t need to go out with them again, do you?”
“I haven’t been out with them in weeks,” I said.
“I thought you wanted to be with me.”
Ugh, yes, but does being with you really mean I can’t go out with my friends anymore?
“Okay, fine, I’ll be back to the condo as soon as I finish up here,” I said. Whatever it takes to seal this deal.
“Don’t be too late. I’m pretty tired from work this week.”
“Okay.”
He left and I picked up the prenup. I have to figure this out. Maybe I should get a lawyer, or at least ask Vi to read it.
I called Vi from my room.
“Hey, Freddie!”
“Hey Vi.”
“What’s up? How are you?”
“I’m okay, but I actually have a favor to ask.”
“Yeah, of course. What is it?”
“Well, Nate surprised me with a prenup. I just started reading it and it’s full of lawyer gobbledygook. Can you take a look for me? I know this isn’t your area of expertise but you’ll at least understand generally what it means. I don’t want to sign something that puts me at a significant disadvantage.”
“Wow, he must be doing really well already. What does he do?”
“He is, I guess. He owns a supplements business. Will you read it for me?”
“Sure, of course, Freddie. Send it to me and I’ll take a look in the next few days.”
“Thank you. I will.”
Work was slow and I found myself worrying about the prenup. After work I would pick it up and try to make sense of the legalese. I texted Vi, “Any luck with the prenup?”
She called a few days later.
“I read the agreement,” Vi said.
“Great! What do you think?”
“Most of it is just legal jargon that doesn’t amount to too much. I ran the important stuff by a friend of mine who has written a lot of these.”
“Thank you so much. I know how busy you are.”
“Freddie, this is important stuff. It’s your future.”
“It is. Do you think I should sign it?”
“Well, most of it is fine, immaterial, but there’s one thing you may want to ask for.”
“What?”
“The way this is written, adultery is specifically excluded as grounds for alimony, so if he cheats on you and the relationship ends, you get nothing. Are you sure you want to be married to someone who would include that kind of clause in a prenup?”
“Hmmm. That’s not like him,” I lied. “I’ll ask him about it.”
“Well, if you’re going to sign this thing, we think it would be in your best interest to ask for a few other clauses to be altered as well, essentially to make sure he is held accountable should he ever transgress.”
Perfect. “Seems fair, thank you so much.”
“I’ll send over my mark-ups this afternoon.”
“Thank you.”
“Love you.”
“Love you too.”
It had been a full week since Nate had given me the prenup. I hadn’t brought it up again and he hadn’t either. I dreaded the idea of confronting him about the infidelity clause, but I knew I had to do it eventually. I texted Nate, “Dinner tonight? Need to talk.”
“Sure. Where?”
“Foglia D'alloro’s?”
“I’m tired of Italian. Marigold. 7.”
“Okay.”
It was early so I walked to Greenwich Village. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was looking for, but had that lucky feeling. I rifled through the racks at a couple of thrift shops and then meandered back to the East Village. On the way, I popped into a secondhand book store and made my way to the back where there were a number of large, water stained cardboard banker’s boxes marked “Vogue”. I was surprised to find most of the 80s shoved haphazardly into three or four boxes, in no particular order. After about an hour, I made off with May and June of ‘82, and June and July of ‘83 for a total of ten bucks.
I stopped at a small wine shop and paid thirty-five dollars for a nice bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon that the guy at the counter recommended. Marigold was one of the few BYOs left in the neighborhood and I didn’t want to show up empty-handed.
Back in my little room at the apartment, I spent the afternoon sprawled out on my bed studying the dresses, flower arrangements, and cake designs in the vintage magazines. It was a guilty pleasure that I didn’t want anyone to see, even my roommates.
I got to Marigold a little before seven and wasn’t surprised when the hostess confirmed that Nate had called ahead for a table. The restaurant was small and there was no bar, so the hostess seated me alone. I pulled the bottle of wine out of my purse and set it on the table.
“Freddie?” I turned in my seat. Adam was standing to my left.
“Hey! I told you not to call me that anymore.” My look implored him: Please!
As I stood up I noticed a woman close behind him and stopped to extend my hand. She was classically beautiful, her ash blonde hair was long, with platinum highlights. She had bright blue eyes and perfectly tanned skin. Wow! She looks exactly like all those women Nate used to date.
Adam stepped aside. “This is Julia. Julia, this is Fred…”
I cut in, “Wyn! Adam still likes to call me by my childhood nickname, but I really wish he wouldn’t. Please call me Wyn.”
“Nice to meet you, Wyn,” she said.
She was quite a bit taller than me and very thin. The kind of thin that looks a bit painful but is difficult not to admire.
“I’ll never call you that,” Adam muttered to me.
“Please,” I begged.
Nate spotted us across the restaurant and walked over with the hostess in tow.
“Who’s this?” he asked as Julia turned toward him.
“Julia,” she said before I could introduce her. She offered her hand confidently to Nate and he held it gently in his.
“Julia, this is my fiancé, Nate,” I said, relieved to not have to use the word “boyfriend”. There was something so childish about that word; I’d always hated it.
Their eyes locked and they smiled.
“Are you just arriving too?” Nate asked.
“We are,” she said.
“Why don’t you join us?” Nate said.
I looked at Adam. He smiled approvingly.
Julia turned to the hostess. “You don’t mind, do you?”
“Of course not,” she mumbled.
There weren’t two open tables near each other, but she enlisted a waitress and they rearranged a few things until we had a table for four. Julia and Adam sat on one side, while Nate pulled out the chair across from Adam for me.
Julia motioned toward my left hand and admired my engagement ring.
“How did you two meet?”
“Online,” I said.
She smiled and nodded approvingly.
“So many people do these days,” she said politely, but I sensed an underlying condescension.
“How long have you been engaged?” she asked.
“Oh just a couple of weeks,” I said. “You and Adam must have met after that, because I don’t remember meeting you the night Nate proposed.”
“Ah, it was a few months ago, wasn’t it?” She turned to Adam and he nodded.
“Oh.” I was genuinely surprised and turned to Adam. “Why didn’t you bring her to our engagement? Surely, Nate told you it was plus one.”
He rolled his eyes subtly and turned to her. “You were busy that night. Out for a bachelorette party I think, right Sweetie?” Adam’s mom and dad had always used pet names for each other. I knew it made his skin crawl, and he knew that I admired it, having grown up with a single mom who never dated and was not overly affectionate.
“Oh yeah, must have been Ashley’s bachelorette,” she said.
; Adam nodded.
“Where did you two meet?” I asked.
“At the gym,” she replied. I tried to imagine her thin frame doing anything at the gym.
Adam directed his comment to Nate, “I couldn’t take my eyes off her and eventually she noticed.”
Barf!
We had three courses and shared three bottles of wine.
“So, what do you do, Julia?” Nate asked. It annoyed me that he used her name. I had observed over the past year that his penchant for remembering names seemed to be directly related to how important he thought someone was, or might become to him in the future. He remembered names adeptly in business settings, while failing repeatedly to remember the names of my friends or my colleagues whom he’d met more than once. I knew she was his type!
“I blog about fashion, interior design, and style in general. And cover fashion shows when I can, of course, and all the important social events in the City.”
“You’re a blogger?” I asked.
She turned to me and smiled. “And a vlogger.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize that was a career.” God, I sound like my mother.
“Really? It totally is these days. You’re a bit behind if you’ve never heard of lifestyle blogging or influencers,” she said. “Some people make really good money at it.”
“Yeah, of course,” I said.
“Julia started doing freelance photography for events, covering the high-brow social scene for a suburban glossy magazine. Isn’t that right, Sweets? Then she realized that she could cover the events herself on her blog.” Adam admired her as he spoke.
“I always thought I’d be an entrepreneur,” she said. “I just didn’t realize that I would be so successful in my twenties. It usually takes years to build a business, but of course the Internet has changed that.”
“So true,” Nate said.
Julia reached into her purse and pulled out two glossy, pink business cards that said simply “Julia Weber” in a white script on the front and on the back “JuliaWeber.com”.
I looked over at Nate, who was staring at her approvingly. Ugh! When the last drop of wine was finally gone I leapt out of my chair.
“Guess we should get going,” I said.
Nate followed my lead and thanked them for joining us for dinner.
When we got out into the street he grabbed my hand. “Where’re you running off to so fast?”
I turned toward him. “Nowhere, just needed some fresh air.”