Intoxicated

by Alicia Renee Kline

  I grabbed both bags and headed to the elevator. The parking garage was quiet tonight, most spaces occupied by cars. I imagined families sitting at home with one another, opening presents or maybe packing bags to head out on the roads first thing in the morning. Guiltily, my mind flashed to Eric sitting alone in his condo unsure whether or not I would show up. In a perfect world, in a perfect relationship, there would have been no doubt that I would appear on his doorstep tonight even if I would have had to drive cross country.

  When I got to his door, I set down the bags and rummaged around in my purse for the key to Eric’s condo. I always had it with me but just didn’t have it on the same keychain as the keys I used every day. As usual, it had migrated down to the bottom of the bag. I wrapped my fingers around it and victoriously brought it to the surface. Again, had we been more solid of a couple, the key would have been right next to Blake’s and would have been scratched and worn with use, not bright and shiny like it had just been cut at the hardware store.

  I needed to stop this line of thinking if my plan was to be successful. I was admitting defeat even before the opening bell had rung. Preparing for a fight was a bad omen. However, given our track record lately, it was a trained response.

  I turned the key in the doorknob first, then in the deadbolt. The door swung open smoothly, allowing my entrance. I stuck my foot inside the threshold to prop it open, then drug the bags inside. Once my belongings had made it into the condo, I stepped in all the way, too.

  Eric was nowhere to be seen. I had expected him to be at his usual perch in the living room, a beer sitting open before him on the coffee table. The sofa was empty, though the lights were on. I trained my ears to the sounds surrounding me, finally focusing in on what sounded like water running from the master bedroom. He was taking a shower.

  Impulsively, I followed the noise into his room, debating my next move. Before I could chicken out, I stripped off my clothes and entered the bathroom. For a split second, I considered what I would do if he wasn’t alone, then chastised myself for the thought. Of course he would be by himself if he wasn’t yet with me.

  His shower was one of the deluxe, walk in variety. There was no door to shield him, nor to announce my arrival. His back was turned to me as he bathed, obviously not aware that anyone was watching. I walked in behind him, the hot water enveloping me, too. My arms reached for him, my fingers caressing his wet skin.

  “Merry Christmas, Eric,” I said softly.

  He jumped slightly and turned to face me. For a brief moment he just stood there, frozen, as though he couldn’t believe I had actually shown up.

  “It is now,” he responded eventually, pulling me into him.

  His kisses were full of intensity, his green eyes blazing with desire. The steaming water only heightened the feelings. It was all too easy to melt into him, to forget all the doubts that played on an infinite loop in my mind. Of every aspect of our relationship, this was the one we had mastered. It was so easy to sink into this comfortable, familiar territory and ignore all our lingering issues.

  And I let him, again and again, refusing to admit the truth. If this was the only thing we had going for us, then who was I to judge Blake and her string of one night stands?

  Eventually the hot water flowing from the shower head dissipated, and he reluctantly turned off the faucet. I remained dripping and shivering in the shower while he got out to retrieve a towel. He held out the plush cotton rectangle and I grabbed it almost as hungrily as I had grabbed him. The fabric was delightfully warm courtesy of his heated towel bars. I wrapped the towel around me and stepped out onto the warm travertine floor. At times like these, I understood his logic in installing high end upgrades. If I ever stayed here long enough to get used to the luxuries, I would have a hard time returning to my existence in the real world.

  Eric stood behind me as I dried off, clearly admiring what he saw in the mirror. My cheeks flushed with unnecessary modesty. Catching my expression, he smirked.

  “So you can ambush me in the shower, but I can’t watch you get dressed?” His tone was light and playful, but he still left me to my own devices.

  The walk-in closet could be accessed through both the bathroom and the master bedroom. Obviously, I opted for the bathroom entrance, praying that my pajamas were still where I had left them. I breathed a sigh of relief as I opened the appropriate dresser drawer. I pulled out the red silk tank and shorts and slipped them on. Definitely not what I was accustomed to wearing to bed, but they would do. Somehow I didn’t think he would enjoy my visit as much if I were clad in my typical oversized t-shirt and plaid flannel pants.

  He was perched across his king sized bed when I had finished dressing and brushing out my hair. He smiled broadly as I entered the bedroom, beckoning me to his side.

  “Just what I like to see,” he remarked. “Ready for bed at eight at night.”

  “Look who’s talking,” I gestured to his own attire, consisting of nothing more than boxer shorts.

  “It’s not like we can go out or anything. It’s Christmas Eve. I doubt we could even grab a burger at this hour.” His face clouded momentarily. “You’re not hungry, are you?”

  I shook my head. “I think I ate enough for two people today.”

  “Good, because I’m all tapped out. Though I could fill you up in other ways, I’m sure.”

  “I hope my dad’s not counting on us to bring anything tomorrow,” I joked, knowing full well he didn’t.

  “I’ve got beer, but something about that doesn’t seem right.”

  A small giggle escaped my lips as I mounted the bed. I knew he was being silly, not insensitive. One thing he had never handled inappropriately was my mother’s death or the circumstances surrounding it. Given his brashness in most other matters, it was the one subject I could always count on him to tread lightly with. Had my father been in the room, he never would have voiced that comment. With me, he was a little less guarded but still impressively sensitive.

  Eric wrapped his arm around me as I settled against my pillow. Noticing the goosebumps on my bare arms, he rubbed the length of the one furthest away then pulled the comforter over us. I snuggled against him, craving the warmth he provided.

  “I’m glad you were able to come.”

  “I needed to be here with you,” I admitted, choosing my words carefully. I didn’t want to lie and tell him that I couldn’t imagine myself anywhere else. Better to phrase it honestly no matter how awkward that sounded. I did need to be here, to invest time in our relationship. That much was true.

  He played with a tendril of my hair, twirling the damp lock around his index finger. I closed my eyes and drank in the sensation. The feeling of him running his fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp, was heavenly. One by one, the muscles in my body relaxed.

  “Long day?”

  “No, not really. I went in early so I could leave right at noon, but it wasn’t like I accomplished much. Nobody there was really on task today. So, we talked a lot and ate quite a bit. Blake redid my office as my Christmas present. It was the talk of the building and most everyone stopped by to take a peek.”

  I paused, realizing that Eric had never set foot in my office to begin with. He would have no clue that all of mid-management didn’t have equally appointed workspaces. No before picture to compare it with.

  “You’ll have to stop by and see it sometime,” I said quickly, “if you ever happen to be in the area.”

  “I guess I’ll make it a point to be,” he conceded, without the slightest edge to his tone. “Why don’t you tell me about it for now?”

  I proceeded to go into great detail about my new furnishings. My enthusiasm for the space was not faked; I found great pleasure in recounting all of the touches she had added to make the once drab room my own. I described every last detail from the designer guest chairs to the stack of Blake’s business cards found in my top drawer. Only one item was omitted from mention: the picture of Blake, Matthew and me that perched upon my desk. I
knew he’d feel slighted that a picture of us didn’t occupy that prime real estate. I vowed to look for an appropriate photo when I returned home.

  “That sounds really nice,” he mused. He paused for just a beat before asking, as casually as he could muster, “Did her brother get you anything?”

  “He helped with the decoration of my office. You know, the manual labor and all. One of the pictures in there came from him, I think.”

  There was no way I was going to mention Matthew’s true gift to me. My intent for this night had been to salvage my relationship with Eric, not drive a further wedge between us. I could only imagine the response if I admitted he was taking me to a concert on Eric’s home turf. And I hadn’t lied exactly. Without his help, Blake’s project wouldn’t have come to fruition near as easily. Adding the “I think” at the end about the artwork had absolved me of any factual errors. I was in the clear.

  Eric picked at an imaginary piece of lint on the bedspread. The tension in his body hadn’t disappeared despite my efforts. He sighed quietly, clearly not finished with the line of questioning. I anticipated what was coming next.

  “Did you get him anything?”

  I had been correct. The answer I would provide had already formed on my tongue. I shifted my gaze to the area of the comforter he was rolling between his fingers. If the fabric could speak, it would be screaming for help. With this visual in mind, I decided to employ a slightly different tactic.

  “I couldn’t just ignore him,” I said softly, going for the repentant girlfriend vibe, “with him coming over to Blake’s and all. She told me he was a hockey fan, so I got him some NHL poster she showed me online. Nothing exciting. I’m not even sure he liked it.”

  “What team?” he asked, still not willing to let it drop.

  “I couldn’t tell you,” I lied smoothly.

  He chuckled, relaxing noticeably at my apparent indifference.

  “And what did you get Blake?”

  Here I grew more animated, more at ease with the subject matter. I knew he was only asking to be polite, to cover his tracks at being so nosy as to my gifts both to and from Matthew. I milked my exposition for all it was worth, the purpose twofold. On one hand, it deflected his attention from anything to do with Matthew, and on the other hand, it further illustrated how little thought I had given her brother’s present. Eric seemed very accepting of this, and I hoped he would let it drop completely.

  “That was very nice of you,” he praised at my conclusion, “to include them in your plans. Without including them in our plans.”

  He smirked in an attempt to keep the mood light.

  “I know we don’t get to see each other nearly enough. Trust me, I wouldn’t set out to ruin two holidays in a row.”

  “If you truly meant that, you wouldn’t have invited Gracie to the festivities tomorrow.”

  I elbowed him gently. “Come on, that’s just tradition. You know my dad thinks of her like a second daughter. Sometimes I think he likes her better than me.”

  “I could never see that happening.”

  “Me either. But she’s local, and more needy of his attention now that I’m gone.”

  The words slipped out before I realized I didn’t want to ride that train of thought. I silently cursed myself for dodging one touchy subject in exchange for introducing another. I had been doing so well. Why had I gone and opened that can of worms?

  “What if that didn’t have to be the case?”

  “Eric, I really don’t want to talk about this right now. You know how I feel about my job. I’m not about to give that up and be some kept woman.”

  He held his hands up in surrender. “I know, I know. Trust me, I wasn’t about to suggest that again.”

  “Then what? We’ve already established that Fort Wayne is way too far of a commute from Indianapolis. Unless I move everybody up there, I don’t see another option.”

  “Maybe I should just give you your present now,” he said with a grin. He extricated his arm from underneath me and rolled away. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  “I wasn’t planning on it,” I said, settling back down on the pillow.

  He disappeared into the other room and I laid there, wondering what kind of a solution could be placed in a box and tied up with a bow. The twinkle in his eye suggested that he was quite pleased with his idea. I hated to burst his bubble, but I couldn’t see how a necklace or earrings would solve this problem. Maybe he had gone the technology route and bought me a laptop or a tablet that I could use to video chat. That would be an alternative, but not exactly the same as being there in person. And unless he had also purchased ones for my dad and Gracie, highly impractical.

  Eric returned with a bag in tow. The grin on his face remained as he sidled up to the bed and thrust it at me.

  “Go on, open it,” he urged.

  I sat up and took the package from him. Wary, I peeked inside it as though it held an explosive device. He laughed good naturedly at my bravado. His green eyes bore into me as I plucked the tissue paper from the bag and let it flutter to the floor. He was waiting for a reaction of some sort, but I didn’t yet understand.

  Inside were newspapers. Specifically real estate sections from local papers stretching from Indy to Fort Wayne. My brow furrowed as I looked closer at the first one I pulled out. What was he trying to tell me? Was there an ad for the bank in all of them, maybe name dropping me as an underwriter? I wasn’t aware of a current ad campaign, but maybe they had done it without my knowledge. I was only mid-management, not an executive.

  After moments of awkward silence, I glanced up at him. Eric stared at me expectantly.

  “I don’t get it,” I admitted.

  He plopped down beside me and took the paper I was holding. “This one’s from Marion,” he explained to me like I was a child and couldn’t read. “There’s also one from Muncie. Some that cover Gas City and southern Huntington County.”

  “Okay,” I drawled, stretching the syllables out into a question.

  “Real estate sections that show houses for sale between here and Fort Wayne.”

  “Okay.”

  He set down the paper and took both my hands in his. Those eyes stared back at me, so earnest and sincere that I felt a lump form in my throat. My breath caught in my lungs as I waited for him to explain further. I still wasn’t sure exactly what he was proposing, but I knew it was major.

  “Lauren, honey, I know that I’ve been nearly impossible to deal with the past couple months. I thought that I would be okay with your promotion and moving away, really I did. But I’m not. I know that I’m away a lot, so you would think it wouldn’t matter, but it does. The thought of you being two hours away, practically having a whole new life, really bothers me.

  “I know how much your career means to you. I know how hard you have worked to get where you are, and how much further you can go in time. If you were willing to give that up to be a ‘kept woman’ I would let you without question. But you are you, and that’s part of why we’re so good together. You don’t back down. You make me work for things. You question my judgment.

  “So I sat and thought about this long and hard. How I could make this work. You remember, back in the parking lot of your old apartment the day you left?”

  I nodded.

  “I promised you then that we would figure this out. I’ve been a little slow on the uptake, but I’ve come up with a solution of sorts. I can’t leave my job in Indy and you can’t leave yours in Fort Wayne. But we can compromise and live somewhere in between.”

  “You would move? For me?”

  “For you, I would do just about anything.”

  “But you love this condo.”

  “I didn’t say I was selling it.”

  “Then how?”

  I wished I could string together more than a couple words at a time, but my brain was having a hard time processing his plan. My head was swimming in a fog of possibilities. For him, this was a gigantic move to prove his commitment. If only he could
insert something about how much he loved me in his monologue, we’d be nearly home free.

  “The mortgage for this is in my name. The mortgage for our home would be in yours. That way we could have both.”

  My head, formerly in the clouds somewhere, came crashing back down to earth. I must have contorted my face in a disapproving fashion as it did so, for he came up for air quickly.

  “You know I bought this place for a song, Lauren. It’s an excellent investment. We are right downtown, in the heart of everything. The view is spectacular.”

  “All the more reason to sell. Think of the profit you’d turn. We could put all of that down on our place. We could have way more house for the money in most of these areas. Or we could start with something smaller and save the rest. Or do repairs or something.”

  His eyes were a mixture of disappointment and hope for the future. I saw the recognition behind them that I hadn’t shot him down completely. My word choice had been deliberate; using “could” signified that I wasn’t immediately turning him down, but not quite ready to jump on board.

  “We could stay here on weekends,” he countered, “or if I have an early flight or something, I won’t have to get a hotel. Think of the convenience factor. Some people would kill to live here, and we do.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Somehow having a parking spot here isn’t the same as living here.”

  “You know what I mean. Financially, you make almost as much as I do. If I can pull this off,” he gestured to the view out his window, “imagine what you can get. You with your connections at the bank. And if we stumble upon our dream house, I’ll consider adding my name to it to sweeten the deal.”

  “You’ll consider it?” I asked, practically choking on the words.

  Eric nodded, totally serious.

  “While I appreciate the gesture, to me it sounds like I’m the only one who would be taking a risk. Call me a traditionalist, but if it would be our house, both our names should be on it.”