A Year to Remember

by Shelly Bell

  “Do you believe men and women can be just friends?”

  “Honestly, I think I could fuck a guy and still remain just friends. It doesn’t mean anything anyway.”

  “You don’t really believe that, do you?” He sounded pissed off at me, but I didn’t know what I had said to anger him.

  “I think sex and love are two different things. I could have sex with someone I didn’t love, and I can love someone I won’t have sex with.”

  “Like Missy?”

  “What about Missy?”

  “You love Missy, but you don’t have sex.”

  “Of course not,” I stated a little too loudly.

  “Have you ever thought about it?”

  “No!” Where was he going with this?

  “Do you think she’s ever thought about it?”

  “No way. We’re just friends. That’s all we’ve ever been and Missy knows that.”

  “Yes, but knowing and feeling don’t always sync. It’s possible Missy is in love with you and you’re oblivious. If that’s the case, it’s going to come out one day and change your friendship.”

  “Missy is not in love with me. You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  “I hope I’m wrong about it, Sara.”

  I sat there thinking. If Missy were in love with me, she would have told me, right? Goldman just wanted to unnerve me, and I would not give him the satisfaction. In fact, I think I’d get my revenge right now.

  I turned off the television, stood up from the couch and stretched while yawning. “It’s really late. I’m going to bed. Are you coming?”

  Panic crossed his face. “What?”

  “Well, you don’t believe we’re friends. If we’re not friends, we can sleep platonically in the same bed, right? We’re not friends and we don’t have the whole sex thing hanging over us, because there’s no danger of us being attracted to one another. According to your exception, we can sleep together tonight.”

  He didn’t know what to say to that. If he said he couldn’t sleep in the same bed as me, he’d be admitting we’re friends, and then he’d have to concede there is a possibility of us having sex or he could admit friends could stay platonic. Either way, he had to sleep in the bed with me in order to save face. I love winning an argument, especially against an attorney like Goldman.

  “Okay. Lead the way.”

  I led him to my old bedroom, which hadn’t changed much since I’d moved out twelve years earlier. I ran to the bathroom to get into my nightgown and when I came back, Goldman was already under the covers. I noticed his pants and shirt on the floor. Unless he went commando, he only wore his underwear to bed.

  I slid in next to him, and he turned to face me.

  “You do not play fair, Sara,” he whispered.

  “No, I don’t. Now you won’t forget it.”

  “No, I won’t forget. Goodnight, Sara.” He turned away from me. After a few minutes, I fell asleep, comforted by the warmth of his body.

  I woke in the morning to find Goldman gone and his side of the bed already cool and neat as if he had never slept beside me. I wish I didn’t, but I felt his loss.

  CHAPTER 12

  APRIL 7, 2012

  DETROIT, MICHIGAN

  WEIGHT: 176

  STATUS: SINGLE

  There’s a reason they say “when it rains it pours.” Because the day after my Passover Seder, I got calls from three different guys, all asking for dates. God must have taken pity on me after the harassment I’d received from my family about my prospects for a husband.

  I spent the day after the dinner alternating between sleeping off my hangover and cleaning my condo. I blasted my stereo listening to Fleetwood Mac’s Greatest Hits. There’s nothing like dancing around the room with a mop to “Tusk.” Thank God, nobody could see me make a fool of myself.

  Halfway through cleaning my kitchen, my phone rang. I recognized the phone number as one of my matches from speed dating, but I couldn’t remember which one.

  “Hello?” I said, trying to sound nonchalant and breezy. Instead I sounded out of breath. Not a great way to start a conversation.

  “Hi, is this Sara?” Whoever it was had a very yummy deep voice.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Hi, Sara, this is Ryan. We met at the Underground speed dating event.”

  “Of course. How are you, Ryan?” I could never forget anyone with such sexy blue eyes.

  “I’m good, and you?”

  “I’m doing well, thank you.” I wanted him to say enough with the small talk, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind. I had to endure another five minutes of conversation about the weather (we’re getting another four inches of snow today) and Passover dinner with our respective families.

  “I remembered you like concerts, and I got two tickets to see Bon Jovi this Saturday.”

  “I love Bon Jovi. I’ve seen them twice already.”

  “Does that mean you’ll go?”

  “I’d love to.”

  “Great, then how about I pick you up at six and we get dinner before the show?”

  I gave him directions to my house and we talked about where to go to dinner. Thank goodness, he didn’t seem to be one of those passive guys who says “I don’t care. Where do you want to go?” Instead, he made a few suggestions and I picked the one restaurant where I knew the menu.

  I’m a very picky eater. Society thinks fat people will eat anything, but that’s simply not true. For the most part, I ate healthy salads, lean skinless chicken, steamed veggies, and plain baked potatoes. Other than that, I don’t enjoy many foods. I can’t handle sauces or spices. My brother jokes ketchup is spicy to me. I do like my food rather bland. Of course, right now I’m eating low carb, which means pasta and pizza are out of the question. That’s why I like to have some idea of the menu before I go to a restaurant.

  My family and friends couldn’t figure out why I have a weight problem because I eat healthy. I don’t drink regular pop, that’s what we call soda in Michigan, or sugary energy drinks. I don’t like fried foods, except for French fries, which I’d never order in public, and I rarely eat fast food. It’s what they don’t see that’s the problem.

  I’ll order a Greek salad and Diet Coke for dinner, and then eat three candy bars when I’m alone in my condo. I eat sugar like an alcoholic drinks.

  I crave it.

  I think about it all the time.

  The therapist in me admits I have a problem, but the other parts of me are convinced I just need stronger will power. Right now, I’m too stressed to deal with it. I accept it’s who I am and try not to let it make me feel too guilty.

  I’m certain if I lost another twenty or thirty pounds, I would have a greater amount of men attracted to me. Then I tell myself even though that may be true, I wouldn’t want such a shallow guy.

  Missy knows more about my problems with food than anyone else, including my parents. She and I don’t discuss it outright, but she has tried to bring it up with me throughout the years. If I could tell anyone, it would be her, but I’m not ready to tell her just yet. Maybe after I get married, I’ll feel more confident and then it will go away on its own.

  After hanging up with Ryan, I got a call from Max, the wealthy pediatrician and my other match from speed dating. At least in today’s conversation, he let me do a little talking. He had just returned from Florida and he wanted to know if we could get dinner on Friday night. He chose the restaurant, one I had never eaten at, but I didn’t have the nerve to tell him “no.” I’m sure I’ll be able to find something on the menu.

  Then that night, I got a pleasantly surprising phone call from Caleb, one of the groomsmen from Seth’s wedding. Honestly, I had forgotten all about the fact he said he’d call me when he moved to Michigan. I guess he could hear the surprise in my voice.

  “Didn’t your brother tell you I’d be calling?”

  “No, he didn’t. That’s Seth, as you well know.”

  “Actually, the Seth I know would have
told you. Maybe it’s because you’re his sister,” he mused.

  “I doubt it. He’s not very protective of me.” I laughed.

  “He always talks fondly about you. He really respects you,” Caleb informed me.

  I doubt that’s true, but Caleb had no reason to lie.

  “I have to be honest. He never mentioned anything about you before announcing you’d be one of his groomsmen.”

  “Seth and I worked out at the same gym. We became friends and started going to the bar together on the weekends until he met Emily. Then we went back to just being gym buddies.”

  I hope Seth didn’t think I’d start working out with him.

  “I’m glad you two became friends,” I offered with a hint of flirtation.

  “I am, too,” he replied huskily. “I’d like to see you again.”

  “I’d like that, too.” Only not Friday or Saturday night, because I’m already booked solid.

  “What are you doing right now?”

  “Now?” I’m in my sweaty, bunny rabbit pajamas trying to clean my condo, but I wasn’t going to share that bit of information with him.

  “Would you like to get some coffee and take a walk?”

  “You do know it’s snowing, right?” I teased.

  “Yes, but it’s not too chilly out and the coffee will keep us warm,” he said, not so innocently.

  I could read between the lines, and something told me he was thinking of another way we could stay warm outside. The thought he could be my mystery kisser from the wedding was not lost on me.

  “I’ll need a little time to get ready.”

  “Why don’t I pick you up at three?”

  After hanging up with Caleb, I started squealing and jumping up and down in excitement. I immediately called Missy to tell her the good news.

  “I only have a couple of minutes to talk because I have to get ready for my date with Caleb.”

  “Which one is Caleb?”

  “Seth’s friend from the wedding. The guy who probably kissed me!”

  “Oh yeah, that guy.” She did not sound enthusiastic.

  “Are you all right, Missy?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “You just sound a little down.”

  “No, you just caught me at a bad time.” Something was wrong. There was no doubt in my mind. But if she didn’t want to share, I wouldn’t force it out of her.

  “If you need me, I’ll always be there for you, Missy,” I reminded her.

  “I know,” she said softly.

  “Well, uh, I have to go get ready. I don’t think my bunny pajamas will impress Caleb much.”

  That must have put a smile on her face. “I don’t know. I think that would cause quite an impression on Caleb,” she joked.

  I laughed along with her, glad she didn’t seem angry with me. Whatever was bothering her must have nothing to do with me, thank goodness. We said our goodbyes and I ran to my room to find something to wear outside on a snowy day in April. While I waited for Caleb, I remembered I hadn’t told Missy about my other two dates and wondered if I should keep that information to myself until I figured out why Missy had been so down.

  Caleb looked even better than I remembered. He drove up in his Ford Escape, and I remarked how he must be highly intelligent to drive an American-made vehicle like me.

  We started our date at my local coffee shop. I believe that unlike a job, your choice of coffee drink can define you. For example, I like a medium skim café latte, no sweetener. This says I’m generally easy going, but at times, I tend to be high maintenance. I don’t order a small coffee, because it’s never enough, and I don’t order a large coffee, because I can never finish it before it gets cold. I prefer the bold flavor of espresso over American coffee, but I require some milk to reduce the bitterness. Of course, I wouldn’t want to turn my coffee drink into a meal. Substituting skim milk reduces the calories, while at the same time providing me with the much needed calcium and vitamin D. I don’t like sugar in my coffee, because while it adds calories, it doesn’t seem to make my coffee taste any sweeter. While I drink plenty of artificial sweeteners in my Diet Coke, I don’t like it in my lattes. However, if I drink regular coffee, I use half and half and equal. I’d never drink regular coffee from a coffee shop, only at restaurants or at someone’s home.

  I eagerly anticipated Caleb’s selection of coffee, while I tried to appear casual and uninterested. Caleb’s choice of the large Sumatra with a little 2% milk and a packet of sugar thrilled me. He enjoys a strong dark coffee, indicating confidence and strength. He added the milk and sugar himself, but didn’t pay attention to how much he added, demonstrating he is flexible and easygoing. I couldn’t have picked a better coffee choice for my potential husband.

  Missy and I often meet in the morning at this coffee shop. She orders tea because she doesn’t like coffee. It’s easy to figure out what that means even if I didn’t know everything about her.

  Once we got our coffee, Caleb suggested a walk through the neighborhood nature preserve. Until we got there, we talked about mundane things like movies and music we liked. When we pulled into the parking lot of the nature preserve, Caleb shut off the car and became both silent and pensive.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked, hoping he wasn’t having second thoughts about our date. Did I say something to offend him?

  He undid his seatbelt and turned to face me, taking my hands in his.

  “Sara, I’m sorry I didn’t call you sooner. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since the wedding.”

  Flattery will get you everywhere. “I understand, you were still in New York.”

  “That’s not why I didn’t call,” he admitted. I stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue. “I really like you. You’re everything I’ve wanted. You’re intelligent, beautiful, funny and sweet.”

  “While I appreciate your compliments, you barely know me. How do you know I’m not a raving lunatic?” I joked flummoxed by his kind words.

  “Your brother used to talk about you while we worked out at the gym. I hoped you’d come out to New York for a visit but you never did. Then when I saw your picture in his apartment, I knew I had to meet you.”

  “What picture?”

  “He has a picture of you and him from your cousin’s wedding.”

  I immediately knew what picture he referred to. It’s one of those pictures you wish you could burn, because you look awful, but the picture doesn’t belong to you. I weighed two hundred and fifty pounds in that picture. Even though I wore a beautiful dress and my hair looked halfway decent, I never saw anything but my three chins. That’s the picture he saw and liked?

  “I hate that picture.”

  “You looked amazing in that picture. When we met at the rehearsal, I kept trying to approach you, but I was too nervous. When you gave the toast at the wedding, I couldn’t wait any longer. I had to get you to notice me. I’m pretty shy when it comes to dating, and I don’t have a lot of experience with it. I really wanted to kiss you.”

  Did he mean he wanted to kiss me, or was he implying it was he that had kissed me in the dark that night? Was he my mystery kisser? I didn’t want to ask him, in case he wasn’t, since that would put a damper on our conversation. That left only one way to confirm it.

  We had to kiss.

  “Is that why you didn’t call me? Because you’re shy?”

  “That, and because I’m not Jewish.”

  I knew he wasn’t Jewish, but it didn’t occur to me until now that it could be a problem. If we became serious, it could become the kind of issue that would end our relationship. Should I risk it? I’ve never dated anyone that wasn’t Jewish. I’m also still single. Maybe, I should broaden my horizons.

  “I think we should worry about our religion if we get serious. Now, we’re just two single adults trying to see if there’s anything with potential between them. Certainly, we shouldn’t deny ourselves the opportunity to find out.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that,” he whi
spered as he leaned into kiss me.

  His lips touched mine, as soft as a feather, before he lifted his head to peer into my eyes. He touched my cheek and smiled. I remembered whoever kissed me that night had also touched my cheek. I had a good feeling I’d solved the mystery.

  “Would you like to take our walk now?”

  “I would love that.” I meant it, too.

  We walked along a path through the nature trail, which before Caleb had never interested me at all. Now, as we walked hand-–in-hand while the snow lightly fell around us, I noticed the beauty of the trees I normally ignored. The leaves of the trees had started to blossom with little purple flowers. Hopefully, they’d survive the snow.

  With no one in sight, we could hear the sounds of the animals scampering in the woods. We discussed our fears, me of sharks and him of dying young. We debated whether our country owes it to the world to interfere on sovereign nations’ internal struggles. We chatted about the places we’d most like to visit. For two hours, I forgot about the rest of the world, while Caleb and I absorbed everything we could about each other.

  We found a bench to rest our feet. He put his arm around me and I rested my head on his shoulder, hoping he would take the opportunity to kiss me. Then we saw a deer as she darted from one side of the wooded path to the other, followed by her fawn. Caleb swept my hair off my face and watched me intently. This time, I leaned into him for the kiss. His lips were soft as they found mine, but in a moment, the kiss became hurried and passionate. I could taste the Sumatra on his tongue and I moved in closer to press my body against his. We must have kissed for five minutes and in that time, Caleb never groped or fondled me, verifying he was a perfect gentleman. Only when we heard the voices of approaching runners did we pull out of the kiss.

  “We should get back.” He took my hand, and we made our way back to the car in silence.

  When we arrived back at my condo, I felt disappointed our date had ended. Luckily, my messy condo kept me from even considering inviting him in, because I didn’t want to rush into anything with Caleb. I wanted everything to remain perfect.