by Alice Wasser
Jake: “Had a meeting with the higher-ups today. Very serious stuff.”
Me: “Can you tell me what it’s about? Or is it top-secret?”
Jake: “Something about firing your entire department except for the cute redheads.”
Me: “LOL.”
I don’t think I was actually laughing out loud, if I’m being entirely honest. I don’t entirely know how to handle it when a guy like Jake flirts with me. But I can’t say that I don’t enjoy the attention.
Sam doesn’t know about this, obviously. Even though I’m not actually doing anything wrong, I’m scared to tell him. I guess because I feel like maybe I am sort of doing something wrong. I have a feeling that if I told him, he’d be hurt.
And he’d tell me to stop.
I love Sam. I really do. I would never do anything to hurt him. I don’t think these texts are a big deal and I don’t even think Jake really likes me. And even if he did, it doesn’t matter. I’m marrying Sam.
May 22:
As I’ve mentioned before, Sam has always been a healthy sleeper. Honestly, I didn’t know it was possible for a guy in his mid-thirties to sleep as much as he does. I always thought it was sort of cute that he would just randomly say in the middle of the afternoon that he was going to go take a nap, and then he’d hit the bed and be out like a light.
Lately, it’s been a little less cute.
It isn’t entirely Sam’s fault. He started a medication to deal with the increase in spasms in his legs, which got worse because of the sore on his foot. Apparently, one of the side effects of the medication is that it makes him tired. When you take a guy who already naps in the afternoon and give him a medication to knock him out, it’s not a great situation.
Tonight there was a party at our company. The party started at seven, and right after lunch, Sam started yawning and saying that he needed to lie down for a bit. I had been hoping we could go out and do something together, but considering we had the party that night, I figured I’d let him sleep.
Except at six o’clock, which was the absolute latest we could start getting ready and still make a fashionably late entrance, Sam was still sound asleep in bed. Usually I think he looks adorable when he’s passed out and lying on top of the covers, but right now, I was annoyed.
“Hey,” I said, nudging him roughly. “The party is starting in an hour. Wake up.”
Sam cracked open his eyes and looked at me blearily. “Huh?”
I gritted my teeth. “The party. You have to get ready.”
“Oh,” he said, and rubbed his eyes with the back of his wrist. “Okay, just give me a minute to wake up.”
I watched him struggle into a sitting position. He yawned loudly. It looked like it was going to take him a lot more than a minute to wake up.
“Listen,” I said, sitting down next to him at the edge of the bed. “You don’t have to go to this party.”
He yawned again. “No, I’m okay. I just need a minute.”
“Really,” I said. “You look exhausted. Just go back to sleep.”
Sam hesitated. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?”
I wasn’t thrilled at the idea of going to this party all by myself, but he really did look very tired. “Yeah, it’s fine.”
“Thanks, Millie,” he said, obviously very relieved. He leaned forward and kissed me on the lips, and went back to cuddling with his blanket.
I got ready in the bathroom while he slept. I showered and actually blowdried my hair, then I applied a very subtle layer of make-up. The last thing I wanted was for people to think I was overdoing it on make-up. After I finished my face, I shrugged my way into a new dress I had bought recently.
I don’t say this very often, but I looked good in this dress. It deemphasized my hips and belly, and showed just the right amount of cleavage. It cost more than I usually spend on a dress, but I figured a girl wearing a $20,000 engagement ring could spring a few hundred dollars on a dress.
It was just shy of seven o’clock when I finished getting ready. I was attempting to get out of the bedroom without bothering Sam, but then I banged my toe on his dresser. If the sound of my toe making contact with the hard wood didn’t wake him, the sound of my swearing loudly definitely did.
“Millie?” he said in a confused voice. He sat up in bed. “Why are you all dressed up?”
I gave him an exasperated look. “Am I supposed to go to the party in jeans and a T-shirt?”
He blinked at me. “I thought we weren’t going to the party?”
“No, I told you that you didn’t have to go to the party,” I said. “Rich told me I had to show up.”
Sam frowned. “But… I don’t want you to go without me…”
“It’s not that big a deal.”
(It was sort of a big deal.)
“No,” he said. He grabbed onto the wheelchair by his side of the bed and started to transfer into it. “I’m coming with you. You shouldn’t have to go to some stupid work party all by yourself.”
“Look, Sam,” I snapped, “I don’t have an hour to sit here and wait for you to get ready. If you wanted to go, you should have gotten up when I woke you up before. I mean, you were sleeping all afternoon.”
(Wow, that sounded really bitchy.)
Sam flinched. “I… I’m sorry Millie. I was just really tired and I didn’t realize…”
The two of us just stared at each other for a minute. I was still very irritated that he slept all afternoon, but I probably shouldn’t have snapped at him. After all, he did offer to get ready earlier. I was the one who told him to go back to sleep.
“I’m sorry too,” I said, more gently this time. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. But… I really have to go to this party.”
Sam nodded. “Okay. I promise I’ll come to the next one.”
“Yeah,” I mumbled.
His brows knitted together. “You look really beautiful, Millie. I really wish I were coming with you.”
“Me too,” I said. I hate work parties with a passion, but Rich always pressures us to go. I’ve been to two parties with Sam since we started dating, and it was a lot more fun with him there. I had a feeling I was going to really miss him tonight.
When I got to the party, it seemed like most of my coworkers had already arrived. There was a fair amount of alcohol, but since I was driving, I couldn’t have more than one or two drinks. There was also a fair amount of food, which I could already tell was going to completely destroy my diet. Before I could stop myself, I had already grabbed a little plate and was piling stuffed mushrooms onto it.
(I am completely helpless to avoid the lure of hors d’oeuvres.)
People in the room were mostly milling about and talking, and they hadn’t opened up the dance floor yet. I spotted Donna, who unfortunately was with her husband Mike. I’m not a big fan of Mike. My mother keeps telling me I could do better than Sam, but Donna really could do a lot better than Mike. But considering she’s pregnant with his child, I guess she’s stuck with him for now.
“Yeow!” a voice from behind me yelped.
I nearly dropped my stuffed mushrooms. I whirled around and saw Jake standing behind me. He was nodding appreciatively.
I have to say, Jake looked hot tonight. Really, really hot. He was wearing a dark, button-up dress shirt that revealed just the tiniest hint of chest hair. His chest looked so lean and muscular under his shirt. I found myself swooning just a bit.
“Hey,” I said, sliding my plate surreptitiously onto the table next to me. I didn’t want Jake to see me stuffing my face.
“Christ, you look super sexy in that dress,” Jake said, clutching his chest like my hotness was going to give him a heart attack.
(I think his myocardial muscles were safe.)
“Thanks,” I mumbled. Then I added awkwardly, “You too.”
Then I felt like an idiot for saying “you too” after Jake had just complimented my dress. What is wrong with me? Sometimes I think they shouldn’t allow me to interact with othe
r human beings.
Jake came closer to me so that I could smell his cologne. I couldn’t name the brand or anything like that, but it smelled expensive.
“Where’s old Sammy?” he asked.
“Not feeling well tonight.” It was sort of the truth. It wasn’t like I was going to get into the details of Sam’s medical issues with Jake.
Jake nodded. “Sorry to hear that. He’s not such a healthy guy, is he?”
I wanted to protest that Sam is usually in pretty good health. I don’t think he’s taken one sick day in the entire time we’ve been together. But instead, I just shrugged.
“If you were my girlfriend,” Jake said in a low voice, practically in my ear, “I wouldn’t let you out of the house by yourself looking like that.”
I inhaled a shaky breath. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I’m not your girlfriend then.”
Jake laughed. “I definitely wouldn’t say that.”
(And now I was the one who felt like I was going to have a heart attack.)
Jake nodded in the direction of the alcohol. “You want to have a drink?”
“Sure,” I agreed. “But just one. I have to drive home.”
Jake grinned. “You can always call a cab. Live a little, Matilda.”
Jake can be very persuasive when he wants to be. Two hours later, I was quite drunk. More drunk than I had ever allowed myself to be at a work party, although still sober enough to worry that maybe I was too drunk and was making a fool out of myself. But at least I was having fun.
The parties at work always have the worst music. The DJ only plays those cheesy songs that have a dance that go with them. Usually, I find it incredibly obnoxious. But it turns out that after a few drinks, it was moderately entertaining to dance the electric slide and the Macarena.
Halfway through the Humpty dance, I somehow burst into hysterical laughter. It’s not in my character at all, and Jake (who had not left my side all night) seemed incredibly amused. In my defense, it’s amazing that anyone doing the Humpty dance would be able to keep a straight face.
“Having fun?” Jake asked me.
“Oh, yes,” I managed.
“Really?”
“Really, really!”
I have no idea why, looking back on it, but I found our exchange absolutely hilarious. I started laughing so hard that I sort of collapsed onto Jake. I grabbed his arm for support, and his biceps were so strong and firm that I felt a tingle go through my entire body.
It definitely made me stop laughing.
At that moment, a slow song suddenly came on. I certainly hadn’t expected to dance to any slow songs tonight, but Jake grabbed me, and before I knew what was happening, I was dancing with him to “Brown-Eyed Girl.” And I was so close to him that I could hardly breathe.
“How are you doing, brown-eyed girl?” Jake asked me.
“Okay,” I managed.
Part of me was so attracted to the man standing in front of me that I couldn’t think straight. But another, more sober part of me was thinking that if Sam saw me right now, he would be devastated.
“You want to get out of here?” Jake asked me.
My mouth felt completely dry. “I can’t,” I croaked. “Sam...”
Jake rolled his eyes. “If you’re so worried, Matilda, I promise I’ll be a perfect gentleman.” He added, “Unless you change your mind…”
I looked around the room. The party was starting to die down, and I didn’t quite feel like going home yet. I still had a pleasant buzz going from the alcohol, and I guessed that Sam would be sound asleep by now.
“Okay, fine,” I agreed.
Jake and I ended up taking a long walk. It was actually really nice. We’ve been exchanging a lot of emails and texts, but most of those were one-liners and joking around. This was the first real conversation we ever had.
“So,” Jake said to me, as the moonlight reflected off of his white teeth. “I told you what I thought of you in high school, but you never told me what you thought of me.”
My heart sped up a bit. I was embarrassed to be entirely honest, but I was pretty sure Jake would see through any lies. “I thought you were pretty cute,” I admitted. There was no harm in saying that, was there?
Jake did a little fist pump. “I knew it!”
“Well, it was a popular opinion.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Was it?”
He had to know how handsome he was (and still is). I don’t know if he was putting me on or what, but I just said, “It sure was.”
“Good to know.” He grinned at me. “So what else?”
“I thought you were a slacker,” I said.
Jake laughed. “Well, that was definitely true.”
“How did you turn things around for yourself?” I asked him. “I mean, guys like you are supposed to end up working at a car wash or something.”
“Yeah,” Jake said with a sigh. His face got all serious all of a sudden. “My dad is this really successful lawyer, and he did so well that it made me feel like there was nothing I could possibly do to live up to him. Nothing I did was ever good enough. And at some point, I just stopped wanting to try.”
He looked down at his expensive shoes. They made a slight clicking noise against the pavement as he walked. “In college, I realized that I was gonna end up living in my parents basement for the rest of my life if I didn’t turn things around. So I got more serious about studying and then went to business school. And… well, here I am. Maybe I’m not as successful as my father, but I think I’ve done well for myself.”
“I’m sure he’s really proud of you,” I said.
“Proud of my career, yes,” Jake said with a wry smile. “Not so much of my social life.”
“What do you mean?”
“My mom wants some grandchildren,” he said. “And to be honest, I wouldn’t mind her having some either. I’m just looking for the woman to have them with.”
“I’m sure she’s out there somewhere,” I said.
“Yes,” Jake replied. He stopped walking and turned to look at me. “Somewhere.”
I stopped too. We stared at each other for what felt like an hour, but was probably more like 60 seconds. The night air was cool and I felt myself shivering in my sleeveless dress.
“You’re cold,” Jake observed.
“I’m okay,” I said, although I had started hugging myself for warmth.
Jake was wearing a light jacket on top of his dress shirt. He slipped it off his shoulders, and draped it over me in a really gallant gesture. I felt the warmth of both the jacket and his body heat. Even so, I kept shivering.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go back and get our cars. Are you okay to drive or do you want me to give you a ride?”
“I can drive,” I told him. The truth was, I had never felt so sober in my life.
About 30 minutes later, I quietly unlocked the door to the apartment so as not to wake up Sam. But as it turned out, there was no need for quiet. Sam was sitting in the living room at his computer, wide-awake. It nearly scared the shit out of me.
“Oh, hi!” I remarked in surprise, and possibly a touch of guilt. “I assumed you’d be asleep.”
Sam pushed his wheelchair away from the computer and stared at me. “Where have you been?”
“At the party.”
His brows knitted together. “The party ended two hours ago. I was really worried.”
Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. “You should’ve just called me.”
“I did.”
He did? Oh crap. I fumbled around inside my purse and found my phone. Two missed calls from Sam. Three text messages. The first text told me that he loved me and he was going to wait up for me. And then the second two were asking where I was. There was no possible way I could’ve felt any more guilty at that moment.
“I’m really sorry,” I said. “I guess I didn’t hear the phone. I just… went out with some people after the party.”
I knew what his next question would be: what peo
ple did I go with?
That was going to be a tough one. If I told him I was with Jake, he would get the wrong idea. But I didn’t want to lie to him. Except then he surprised me by saying something completely different.
“I’m going to stop taking the baclofen for my muscle spasms,” he said.
I stared at him. “What?”
He pressed his palms into his eyeballs for a second before looking back up at me. The whites of his eyes were slightly bloodshot. “It’s making me too goddamn tired,” he said. “I don’t have any energy anymore. And it’s not right to you that I’m sleeping half the day on the weekends.”
I felt a flush rise up in my cheeks. I knew why he was doing this and I felt terrible. “Sam, if you need the medication…”
“I don’t need it,” he insisted. “I can deal with the spasms. I’ll be fine.”
I felt like crying. I had taken a two-hour walk with a man who wasn’t my fiancé. And that all the while, Sam had been sitting here worrying about me. What kind of horrible person does something like that?
“I think I’m going to go to bed now,” I told him.
He took a deep breath. “Yeah, I think I might stay up a bit longer.”
“Okay,” I said in a small voice.
And then for the first time since I moved in here, I fell asleep in a bed alone.
May 23:
I was relieved when I woke up this morning and saw Sam lying next to me in bed, snoring softly. I’m not sure what time he came in to join me, but the important thing was that he was there. I kissed him on the cheek gently enough so as not to wake him, then got up to make myself a cup of coffee.
Once I had a piping hot cup of coffee in my hand, I went to check my email. And of course, there was one from Jake:
“Had a great time hanging out last night. Hope you’re not too hungover today.”
I stared at the email for several minutes, deciding what to do. Should I answer it or not? Should I clarify to Jake that I am not going to bear his mother any grandchildren?
I pressed reply, figuring the answer would come to me. But then, of course, my laptop started getting very slow. I swear to God, the next computer I get is definitely going to be a Mac. I’ve been a loyal Dell user for years, but when I see how much more awesome Sam’s Mac is than my computer, I feel like a fool for my loyalty.