A Love Like This

by Kahlen Aymes

  Oh my God! I pushed her back to take hold of her shoulders with both hands. “Listen to me, Jane. You’re a beautiful, desirable woman and he’s damn lucky to have you. He’s no prize, for Christ’s sake!” Her eyes widened and snapped to my face. “Well? He needs to get his head out of his ass. You have so much to offer; you’re kind and giving. Any man would be lucky to be with you. He doesn’t deserve you.”

  Her only answer was a sniffle and blink at me.

  “Hey, are you listening?”

  She smiled, two more tears running down her face. “Thank you, Ryan.” Her hand reached out to my face and I quickly pulled it down with one of mine. She shifted uncomfortably and pulled her hand from my grasp. “If I could just get him to spend some time with me. But when we do, it’s always in a group of friends. I mean, if he takes me anywhere, it’s because someone else makes the plans.”

  I listened and I watched her expression then I did the thing I didn’t want to do. If that fucker required a group, so be it.

  “Listen, Julia is making dinner tonight. Why don’t you bring Daniel? Maybe he’ll forget about work.”

  Her features lit up. “Really? Won’t Julia mind?”

  Yeah, Julia would probably kill me, but she knew Jane needed our support right now. “I’m sure she’d love to see you.”

  She leaned in and hugged me tight. “Thank you, Ryan! That would be wonderful.”

  When she pulled away, I leaned over, pulled another tissue from the box on the table in front of the TV and handed it to her. I needed to get to the cafeteria, grab something and get back to work. “Why are you here today?”

  “Sally’s kid was sick and she needed someone to cover the first half of her shift until her husband could leave work.”

  “I see. Well, I need to grab a quick sandwich and get back to work. Call Daniel,” I said, getting up to leave.

  “I will. Didn’t Julia pack your lunch today?”

  I paused by the lockers, pulling out the phone and quickly texting Julia.

  I invited Jane and Daniel for dinner. I’ll tell them around 8.

  Don’t be mad. Not a good day for Jane. I’ll make it up to you.

  Jane’s eyes were still swollen, but at least she had a smile on her face. “Nope. She was working on some promotional stuff for a fundraiser her magazine is doing on New Year’s Eve. No leftovers for me. Besides, when I’m working, she doesn’t make a big meal. Tonight, she’s probably making something amazing.” I looked down at my phone, but no response before I shoved the phone back and walked toward the door of the lounge.

  “What time?” Jane asked.

  I pondered for a moment. I got off at six, which meant dinner Julia would normally have dinner around 7:15, but something told me I’d better be home before Jane and Daniel showed up, so I could have time to talk with my wife. I figured telling them eight would give us some time alone before they arrived.

  “Eight-ish? I’ll text you the address.”

  So now I had to wolf down a burger and get back to the ER without knowing if Jules got my message. She understood that Jane needed friends’ support right now.

  Jane’s first phone call with Ryan started a pattern. Ryan’s devotion while visiting her at the hospital and his availability whenever his phone or pager went off only reinforced her access. Jane was back to work after a week in the hospital and another week to recuperate at home. Her ever-absent boyfriend, Daniel, made only one appearance at the hospital. Apparently, he was the IT administrator for Chase and constantly on-call. I wasn’t ignorant enough to believe the excuses he piled on Jane. I was starting to believe his importance was more in his head than reality if his responsibility to his girlfriend was a sign of his commitment to other things, but it was only Jane’s opinion that mattered. Daniel’s lack of involvement with Jane’s recovery only fueled Ryan’s natural protective tendencies. I should be proud and understanding and I was, to a point, but I was pissed at myself because Ryan’s concern for Jane was starting to wear on me.

  I pushed open the door to our apartment, juggling two bags of groceries. Ryan invited Jane and Daniel to dinner at the last minute and I was scrambling to get the apartment cleaned up before they were set to arrive three hours from now. I always kept the makings of a cheesecake on hand and one was chilling in the refrigerator. I purchased the ingredients for the fresh strawberry topping along with an expensive cut of prime rib, wine, potatoes, fresh horseradish, asparagus, sour cream and herbs for the rest of the meal. Ryan loved everything I was making for dinner. I felt flustered and disappointed as I stared at the label on the wine in my hand and thought of the new negligée hiding in the top drawer of my dresser. We really couldn’t afford this expensive meal or the little tidbits of satin and lace.

  It was Saturday and it was rare that Ryan had the evening off. I’d planned on cheesecake and prime rib, but selfishly, hoped it would be one of our rare evenings alone. I sighed in regret. Well, I might as well buck up. My plans were flushed the minute I read Ryan’s text. Jane was having a bad day. So what else is new? I cringed at my own lack of compassion, but damn if I could stop myself from allowing the unfairness of the situation to creep into my thoughts.

  I cranked the oven to 475 and leaned down to pull a skillet and the roasting rack from the cupboard. I seasoned and seared the meat before tucking it into the hot oven with the foil wrapped potatoes and set the timer for one hour. I wanted a bath, internally reminding myself that it was wrong to feel sorry for myself. Fuck it. I did feel sorry for myself. Whatever.

  I passed the boxes of new Christmas ornaments next to the half a dozen that each of our mother’s had sent, and the naked tree waiting patiently for attention. This was our first Christmas together as a married couple, and Ryan wanted to decorate the tree after dinner with a roaring fire in the fireplace. I planned to meet him at the door in nothing but the sheer red babydoll trimmed in white fluff and a Santa hat and tease him mercilessly all evening; maybe even follow it up with a good game of Truth or Dare. Now that was all shot to hell, and if I had my way, the tree wouldn’t get decorated until Jane and Daniel had gone home.

  The small amount of time I’d spent in Jane and Ryan’s presence taught me that I’d be completely left out of the conversations as they discussed medical procedures or emergency cases. Ryan was passionate about his work and Jane appeared completely captivated by every word that came out of his mouth. Naturally, he couldn’t help his enthusiasm for his work and her interest in it. The fact that she knew the medical jargon and details about the running of the ER made it easy for her to interject what I couldn’t. Ryan shared with me about his work as I shared mine with him, but obviously, it was on a different level. With Jane, he could talk ‘shop’ and he seemed to enjoy it a lot. Between that and the shared near-death experience, they had a lot to talk about. Hopefully, with Daniel invited, too, it might be less all-engrossing. I was looking forward to finally putting a face with Jane’s description of her beau. Ryan was angry that the man had been so absent when Jane needed him most, and if I knew my husband, he’d find a way to make the other man squirm during dinner conversation. Yay. I was so looking forward to that since it would only make Jane more googly-eyed for Ryan. I huffed at the direction of my thoughts and did my best to push them away as I stripped off my clothes and added my favorite bath salts to the water. I had an hour to lounge in the tub and it was just what I needed.

  With my phone safely on the vanity, I sank thankfully into the warmth of the soothing water. I closed my eyes; trying desperately to push any resentment toward Jane away. It wasn’t fair to be angry with her. Her intrusion was a small price to pay for what she had done and soon it would all fade into the background. I would be gracious to our guests and not torment Ryan by telling him of my Santa plans. I just wish he would’ve asked me first and that it didn’t have to be tonight of all nights.

  I rubbed wearily at my temples. Work was hectic, and with plans for the New Year’s Eve bash at Lincoln Center, there would be no possible way that
Ryan and I could get away to Chicago for Christmas as his parents had hoped. We should have known that his schedule and my obligations at the magazine would make it impossible this year. I longed to invite them to New York, but our apartment was small and Ryan would probably be working at least part of Christmas Eve or Day. I’d pestered him six weeks ago to put in an early request for New Year’s Eve so he could accompany me to the gala and I suspected he’d be required on the other holiday. We’d talked about it and decided that it was more important that he attend, however, I didn’t look forward to Christmas Eve without him. I didn’t know what my problem was, I’d known he’d be working like a dog for the next four or five years, and it was better than being separated by two hundred miles, but I still missed him like crazy. Sometimes, I felt silly how much.

  When the intercom buzzed and the phone rang simultaneously, I was startled, sitting up in the tub and splashing water on the floor.

  “Shit!” I ranted as I hopped out and grabbed the phone and a towel and slipped on a puddle next to the tub. I flailed and grabbed the sink just in time to catch myself, but the phone went clattering to the floor and I winced as pain shot through my lower back. Ugh. The buzzer sounded again as I scrambled to answer the phone. It was Ryan.

  “Hi, sweetie.” I tried to keep the pain still ricocheting through me out of my voice as I struggled into the white robe I’d left hanging on the bathroom door and hurried to the front door of the apartment. “I need to call you back. Someone’s here and the doorman is buzzing.”

  “Go see who it is. I’ll hold on.”

  I didn’t argue. “Okay. Just a second.” I pushed down on the intercom, still holding the phone to my head. “Yes, Adam?”

  “Miss Cooper is here, ma’am. Should I send her up?”

  Are you fucking kidding me? She was two hours early! I was dripping wet and not prepared to entertain her until Ryan arrived home, but what could I do?

  “Sure. Just give me five minutes, Adam.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Damn! I’m sorry, Jules,” Ryan muttered on the phone.

  “It’s fine, but I don’t have much time to talk.” I hoped my irritation wasn’t coming through on the phone. “I’m not dressed, I don’t have make-up on… and dinner isn’t to a place where I can sit and socialize. I was not prepared for guests tonight.”

  Ryan sighed. “They weren’t supposed to show up until 8 o’clock.”

  “I wish they weren’t showing up at all.” The words were out before I could stop them; the phone perched between my ear and shoulder as I struggled to pull on panties and jeans over my wet legs. I jumped up and down a couple of times as I yanked them on over my wet legs.

  “Julia,” Ryan began. “I was trying to give Daniel a reason to show his face.”

  I pulled a white cable knit sweater from bottom drawer of the dresser and a bra from the top one, slamming it when I was done and then shoving the red negligee’ carelessly into another one. Screw it if it got rumpled. I didn’t fucking care.

  “Honestly, Ryan? If Jane isn’t enough incentive to show up, I doubt an evening with us will be. In any case, Adam didn’t mention Daniel. Apparently, he’s not with her.”

  I inhaled deeply, trying to wash the anger away. The man probably wouldn’t show up at all and I was beginning to wonder if he even existed. I felt flustered and pissed at Ryan and I couldn’t help if it showed in my voice. “Is her relationship your responsibility now, too?” I didn’t wait for his answer and rushed on. “I gotta go, Ryan. She’s ringing the doorbell.” I shut my phone off and threw it on the bed, ran into the bathroom and quickly brushed my hair off my face and tied it up in a messy knot. My face was pale except for the angry flush on my cheeks. I shrugged ambivalently at my reflection; my plans to take extra time with my appearance impossible, now, too. Whatever. If Ryan thinks I look like a hag, it’s his own damn fault.

  I hurried down the hall to the door and stopped, pushing a lose strand of hair out of my eyes and pasting a bright smile on my face before I opened the door.

  “Hi, Jane! Come in, please.” I tried to sound happy to see her. She looked amazing and I felt hideous. Her hair was curled and hung in soft waves to her shoulders, her eyes were bright, lined perfectly and she smelled flowery as she walked past me into the apartment.

  “Hi, Julia. I’m sorry I’m early. I went to meet up with Daniel, thinking he and I could have drinks first because I live so far out. I took the subway in,” she was rambling. I took her coat and groaned internally at her pretty dark blue cocktail dress. Coupled with her expensive high heels, it left me feeling like Little Orphan Annie. Jane turned to watch me go into the kitchen and I motioned for her to follow. “Well, he didn’t want to leave work yet, and I had nothing to do. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Of course not,” I lied, gushing as much as I could manage. “I’m happy to have you! You can keep me company while I finish dinner, though I might sneak away to freshen up a little when we’re done.” I smiled again and ushered her onto a stool. When she was sitting at the counter, I pulled the baked potatoes out of the oven with oven mitts and left them to cool on the wire rack.

  I went toward the refrigerator and my eyes found the Merlot sitting on the counter that I’d planned to share with Ryan. I’d bought two bottles, one for dinner and one for Truth or Dare. I prayed my aggravation wasn’t showing on my face. “Would you like a drink, Jane? I have Ryan’s favorite wine for dinner, but I can open it now, if you wish.” I opened the refrigerator and rummaged through it.

  She hovered and I glanced over my shoulder. “Do you like red wine?” I asked. Her unease was plain and I felt terrible that I was resenting her presence. “I can get you something else. Soda, tea, Perrier?”

  “I like it, but let’s save the wine for Ryan. I’ll have Perrier, please.” Jane glanced around the small apartment; taking in the art table and the keyboard sitting next to each other in the small living room, then back around the kitchen. “What’s his favorite?” she asked as I pulled the bottle out.

  “Well, we’re saving for a house, so his favorite at the moment is Charles Shaw. It’s cheap.” My smile was genuine. “Do you want ice?” When she shook her head, I poured the Perrier into two glasses after adding ice to one.

  “Is the art table yours?”

  “Uh huh. Guilty.”

  “I figured. Because of your job.” Her conversation felt forced and I wanted to make her feel more at ease.

  “Yes, I use pencil and other mediums. Soft pastels, charcoal…” I switched on the stereo and the strains of Pink’s “Trouble” flowed into the room from one of the Top 40 stations. “I’ve always been artsy. My dad called me artsy-fartsy when I was young. It was so embarrassing! Ryan tried it once, but I smacked him good.” Jane laughed as I removed the potatoes from the foil, sliced the tops off of each and then switched off the oven. The meat would remain inside for two more hours without added heat: very hot at first then slowly finishing to assure that the ends of the roast would be more medium-well but the center would remain a perfect medium-rare.

  “What are you making, Julia? It smells delicious. I wish I could cook as well as you.”

  “Everyone has their own special talents but cooking is easy. If you can read, you can cook.” I shrugged then realized I hadn’t answered her question. “Prime rib, twice-baked potatoes and roasted asparagus.”

  Jane’s eyebrows shot up. “Wow. It will be delicious, but that’s expensive, isn’t it?”

  “Tonight was a splurge. I wanted to do something special, plus, it would make a couple of lunches for Ryan, and I usually make stew out of the leftovers.” I scooped the insides of the potatoes into a bowl and added all the yummy stuff you normally pile on top of the potatoes and mashed it all together before piling the mixture back inside the shells. Jane watched in silence as I sprinkled the tops with more cheese and set them aside in a baking dish. I felt awkward and at a loss for words, which was weird considering I spoke with huge fashion designers and bigwigs a
t major ad agencies almost daily. Shit. I told myself to find something—anything—to say, but all that came to mind was my aching back and my fucked up evening. I arranged the cleaned asparagus on a baking sheet with olive oil, sea salt, and pepper. I wouldn’t make her feel bad even if I was upset, refusing to allow myself to act like a pouty child.

  “It’s very nice of you, Julia. You’ve been so wonderful, and Ryan has been an incredible support since the stabbing.”

  I sat down with the other woman when Jane reminded me of all she’d suffered. I felt like a heel for even thinking what I’d been thinking. Could I be a bigger bitch?

  “Ryan’s been worried about you. We both have, and we’ll do whatever we can to help you.” My earlier chagrin toward the woman vanished. “I assume Daniel will arrive in time for dinner? Ryan and I are both looking forward to having him.”

  Jane pulled her hand free, and her eyes wouldn’t meet mine. “Mmm… no. He said he won’t be able to get away from work.”

  “Surely there are others who can be available for a few hours?”

  She shook her head and got up to roam around the living room. “Nope. Just Daniel.”

  “For such a big corporation?” I was doubtful. Either this guy was the biggest asshole on the planet or he was a figment of Jane’s imagination. “I mean, isn’t there a whole team of IT people?”

  Jane’s fingers ran along the keyboard, almost in a caress. “Sure, but he’s in charge. Ryan plays?” She dismissed the discussion of her boyfriend.

  I wondered why she would assume it was Ryan? Obviously, he hadn’t told her. “Yes, he’s amazing.”

  “I can see he would be. He has such amazing hands; I can imagine his long fingers caressing the keys so gently. Maybe he’ll play later?”

  The hair on the back of my arms stood up. Either I was oversensitive or Jane showed way too much interest in Ryan’s hands. “He’s usually pretty beat, but you can ask him.”