by Claire Adams
His breathing grew very still for a moment, and for a second I thought we had been cut off. “Phil?”
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
“What happened to you?”
“Uh…nothing,” he said, and he sounded embarrassed.
“Come on, tell me.”
“It’s just that…no one’s ever said they were proud of me before,” he said softly. “I suppose it just took me by surprise.”
“Gave you the feels, did it?” I said, only slightly teasing so that he didn’t feel too awkward.
“Little bit,” he admitted.
We laughed together, and our laughter harmonized, making me feel slightly hopeful again. That hope was dangerous because it was starting to make me impulsive.
“Phil,” I said before I could stop myself.
“Yes, Megan?” he said, with laughter still lingering in his tone.
“Do you like me?” I asked bluntly without stopping to rethink my words.
“Of course, I like you—”
“That’s not what I’m asking,” I said slowly.
“I… What are you asking?” I sensed that he was just as nervous as I was, and he didn’t want to put his foot in it by assuming something I wasn’t asking him.
“I suppose I’m asking you if you see us as being…just friends?” I said, unable to turn back now.
“Oh.”
“Oh?” I repeated. “Is that your answer?”
“No, of course not,” he replied. “I’m sorry, you just caught me off guard.”
His reaction was slow coming, and that made my nerves ratchet up like a tidal wave. “Megan,” he began, and I felt my heart break just a little.
“There is something between us,” I jumped in and spoke before he could continue. The courage that had ensconced me a moment ago and compelled me to ask the question had now vanished completely, and I was just scared and nervous once again. “We have this amazing connection that I’ve never had with any other guy before… Or is it just me?”
“No,” Phil said slowly. “No, it’s most definitely not just you.”
I felt a little flutter brushing up against my heartstrings, but I sensed that there was more he was going to say, and I probably wasn’t going to like it.
“We do have a connection, Megan,” he said. “But my life is…crazy at the moment and I don’t know that I can invest in a relationship. Right now all I have room for in my life is a friend.”
“I see,” I said, feeling dejected and cold.
“And, you’re Brent’s sister, and I don’t want to cross that line with you…for the sake of my relationship with Brent,” Phil continued. “I do like you; you’re an amazing, funny, interesting, beautiful woman. But…”
“You’re just not looking for that right now,” I said, keeping my tone calm and unaffected.
“Right,” he said. “Can you understand that?”
What could I say? I had no choice but to force some lightness into my voice before replying, “Of course I understand, Phil.”
“I don’t want to stop talking to you, Megan,” he said. “I like our relationship the way it is, and I want it to continue. I still want to be friends.”
“We are friends, Phil,” I assured him, even though I could barely stomach the disappointment. “You don’t have to worry about that.”
“So you’re not just going to say goodbye now, hang up on me, and never speak to me again?” he clarified.
“Would it hurt if I did?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe,” he said immediately.
It felt wrong somehow. He was telling me he didn’t want a relationship right now. But he was also telling me that he needed to speak to me every day. He wanted to be my friend. It would hurt him to never speak to me again. Something was not adding up. Either I was just delusional, or he was in denial.
“Well, in that case, I’ll try not to never speak to you again.”
“Promise?”
I smiled despite myself. “Goodnight, Phil.”
“Promise me first.”
I didn’t want to promise him anything and yet somehow, without my permission, the words rolled off my tongue as if of their own volition.
“I promise.”
Phil
I hurried into my apartment and shut the door. As soon as I had gotten my coat off, I called Megan and collapsed onto my sofa. It rung for quite a while, but she didn’t pick up. Disappointed, I hung up and stared at my phone. It had been three weeks since the awkward conversation where I’d told Megan that it was probably best that we just stay friends.
True to her word, she hadn’t stopped talking to me. We had resumed our strange friendship, and it was almost as though that conversation had never happened. Neither one of us ever mentioned it again, but there were moments when I could sense unsaid words standing between us, anxious to be heard.
I dialed Megan’s number again. My impatience to talk to her was telling, and my disappointment that she hadn’t picked up the first time was not at all healthy, and yet I was still unsure about getting involved with her. She was beautiful and smart and funny and incredibly interesting. She was easy to talk to, she was a good listener, and she actually cared about her future and where she ended up. Her need to better herself aligned with my philosophy in life, and that shared goal connected us in deeper ways.
But something was holding me back. I hadn’t been in a serious relationship since becoming a firefighter, but it was more than just my job. A part of me wondered if I even knew how to make a relationship work. It wasn’t as though I had any real examples of functional relationships in my life. My parents’ marriage was a farce, and every other couple I had come across were far from happy.
“Phil,” Megan answered my call breathlessly.
“Hi,” I said. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”
“No,” Megan replied. “It’s fine. I was just cleaning the bathroom.”
“What?”
She was panting slightly, but her breathing calmed down after a minute. “Actually, I was giving the whole apartment a good clean.”
“Why are you doing all the work?” I asked, frowning. “Where’s Brent?”
“Please,” Megan replied. “I don’t think Brent has ever cleaned this apartment. It took me five hours, but I’m finally satisfied.”
“Wow,” I said. “You actually cleaned the whole place by yourself?”
“Everything except Brent’s closet.”
“Brent’s closet?” I laughed.
“I know, right?” she said. “He refuses to lock the bathroom door—even when he’s in there. But the closet is completely off limits.”
“Eww,” I said. “You’ve walked in on him on the toilet?”
“It was horrifying,” Megan said dryly. “I might need to go to therapy to get the images out of my head.”
I laughed. “But seriously,” I said after I had sobered up a bit. “How is it living with Brent?”
She gave a little sigh that betrayed her. “Well, it’s fine most days.”
“That’s not exactly convincing.”
She paused for a moment. “I forgot how little Brent and I have in common,” she admitted. “There’s this assumption that family somehow fits together like puzzle pieces, but the truth is, we’ve always been so different, and sometimes I think…”
She trailed off, and I sensed that she was debating whether or not to finish her sentence.
“Go ahead,” I encouraged. “Tell me.”
“It’s awful.”
“Tell me, anyway.”
“No judgment?” she asked.
I laughed. “I promise.”
She gave another little sigh. “Sometimes I think that if we weren’t brother and sister, I’d probably never associate with anyone like Brent.”
“Ah…”
“I told you it’s horrible.”
“It’s not,” I assured her. “It’s honest, and the sad fact is, the truth hurts.”
“He’s been reall
y nice agreeing to let me stay here, too,” Megan said.
I frowned. “Aren’t you paying rent?”
“Well, yeah—”
“And, you are doing all the cooking and cleaning, as far as I can tell.”
“Um—”
“Added to which you have a full-time job.”
“But—”
“So from where I’m standing, it sounds like you’re the one doing Brent a favor.”
I could sense that Megan was a little amused when she replied. “It’s not like he asked me to do any of those things,” she said, defending her brother. “I mean, I volunteered.”
“And, did he try and stop you?” I asked. “Or at least offer up some help?”
“No…”
“My point precisely,” I said. “He likes getting you to do the grunt work because that means he doesn’t have to do shit. And trust me, if Brent can get out of doing work—any kind of work—he’s all in.”
“You really do know my brother,” she said, with a smile in her voice.
It made me long to see her face. It amazed me that it had been nearly two months since I’d last seen her. The memory I had of her now was slightly blurry, like a foggy picture from a few decades back. I could remember basic features—the beautiful hazel of her eyes and the brown-gold sheen of her hair—but the other details of her face eluded me.
Was it possible to fall in love with a voice? I wondered. There were moments when I really felt that you could. She hadn’t brought up meeting me, and I realized that it was because she was scared I might misconstrue the request. The only reason I was hesitating at this point was because I needed to figure out what I wanted and how badly I wanted it.
“He brought a girl home last night,” Megan said, cutting through my thoughts.
“What?”
“He brought a girl home last night,” she repeated.
“Who did?”
“Brent did,” Megan replied. “Did you just zone out on me?”
“Uh…no.”
“You did!” she said, in a lightly accusing tone.
“Sorry.”
She laughed. “What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing,” I said, a little too quickly.
How could I explain to her that she was what was on my mind? How could I explain to her that her laugh made me feel warm inside or that her voice made me think of music and starlight or that her little silences and short pauses felt like an eternity because I hung on her every word?
“Come on,” she coaxed. “Tell me.”
“I was just—”
I was spared from having to answer when I heard a distinct thudding on my front door.
“What’s that noise?” Megan asked.
“Someone’s at my door,” I said, walking over. Then I looked through my peephole and raised my eyebrows. “You’ll never guess who’s standing outside my door.”
“Beyoncé?” Megan asked. “And if it is, I’m coming over immediately.”
“Brent.”
“My brother?” Megan said. “Ugh…how boring.”
I rolled my eyes as Brent kept thudding at my door. “He’s not patient, is he?” I asked, lowering my voice a little so that he wouldn’t be able to hear me.
“Patience has never been one of his stronger virtues.”
“That implies that he has some virtue.”
“Hey, dickwad!” Brent screamed. “Open the fucking door.”
“You’d better go,” Megan said. “We’ll talk later.”
Before I could protest that, she had already hung up. Annoyed at having my conversation with Megan cut short, I opened the door with a frown on my face.
“It’s about fucking time,” Brent said, breezing past me and going straight for the sofa. “What took you so long?”
“I was talking to someone.”
“Yeah, I thought I heard you talking; who was it?” Brent asked. “And do you got any beer?”
“Nice English,” I couldn’t help but say.
He rolled his eyes. “Well?”
“No, I don’t have any beer,” I said. “I do have some bourbon though.”
“That’ll work,” he nodded. “Who were you talking to?”
“A friend.”
“Are you being cryptic for a reason?”
“I’m impressed you know that word.”
“Are you trying to distract me?” he asked.
“Here’s your bourbon,” I said, handing him a shallow glass.
“It was Megan, wasn’t it?” Brent asked, raising an eyebrow at me.
I paused for a second. “Yeah…”
“You guys really hit it off at my party, huh?” I couldn’t quite figure out how he felt about my friendship with his sister.
“I guess so.” I nodded. “And, just so you know, we’re strictly friends.”
“Sure?” Brent asked, looking dubious.
“Completely,” I said. “We get along; we can talk to each other…we’re friends. That’s all.”
“Whatever you say,” he said. “So what are we doing?”
“Huh?”
“What are we doing now?” he asked.
“You want to do something now?” I asked, glancing at the time.
“Yeah, that’s why I’m here.”
“Listen, man; I have an early shift tomorrow. I should already be in bed.”
“It’s ten fucking thirty.”
“And, my shift starts at four fucking a.m.,” I shot back. “What do you want me to do?”
“Play hooky.”
“Are you serious?”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not in ninth grade,” I said. “I have a real job, and it requires commitment. I can’t just call in sick because I want to go party with a buddy the night before.”
I saw Brent’s eyes narrow as he got off the sofa and walked around the center table. “What happened to you, man? You used to be fun…you used to be young.”
I rolled my eyes. “You need to grow up.”
“And you need to grow down.”
“I… What the fuck does that even mean?” I demanded.
“It’s a saying.”
“That’s not a saying.”
“Sure it is,” he said stubbornly, walking towards the door. “I just said it.”
“You’re a fucking moron.”
“And, you’re a fucking party pooper.”
“I know life is a game to you,” I said. “But this job actually means something to me.”
Brent rolled his eyes. “You stand in front of buildings and spray them with water from a hose,” he said flippantly. “Hardly sounds like the great and noble calling you make it out to be.”
“Do you know how many firefighters die every year in this country?” I demanded. “Do you know how many sustain terrible injuries doing what we do?”
“No, but I’m sure you’re about to lay the answer on me,” he said carelessly. “Please tell me, or I won’t be able to sleep tonight.”
“Get the fuck out,” I said tiredly.
He started walking down the hallway, whistling as he went. “I’m just saying,” he said. “You used to be fun.”
I shut the door and took a deep breath. Brent could be a real ass when he wanted to be, but I knew that when I first met him and had decided to put up with it then. I felt as though it was too late now to turn back the clock. And I realized that I didn’t even want to…because of Megan. Brent had been my road to Megan, and that meant it was worth putting up with him every now and again.
That thought was what helped me make my decision. That thought was what sent me to my phone again. I called Megan, hoping she hadn’t already fallen asleep.
“Megan?” I said, the moment she answered.
“No, Stanley.” She laughed. “Of course, it’s me. What’s up? I didn’t expect to hear from you again tonight.”
“I need to ask you a question,” I said, coming out with it before I could change my mind again.
“Wow…m
ust be important if you’re calling me again just to ask it.”
“I’ll let you be the judge of that,” I said.
“Okay…what’s your question?” she asked curiously.
“Will you go out with me?”
There was a long pause on the other line. “What?” she said at last.
“Will you go out with me?” I repeated again, but this time more slowly.
“Uh… I’m a little confused,” Megan said. “Are you asking me out on a date?”
“I am.”
“But you said you didn’t have room in your life for a relationship.”
“I’ll make room,” I said, with sudden conviction.
“What about my brother?” she asked. “You said you didn’t want to risk your friendship with him by dating me.”
“Turns out…he isn’t that great a friend to begin with,” I said. I heard Megan’s lyrical laugh and felt a little surge of hope. “Is that a yes?” I pressed.
“That’s a yes,” she said at last.
Megan
Nerves kept driving me towards the bathroom mirror to make sure I looked okay. I had chosen to wear a white dress with thin straps and a gently flowing skirt that looked both casual and dressy at the same time. I wanted to look carelessly elegant and worried that my self-consciousness might betray the plan.
I had left my hair loose around my shoulders and had applied subtle makeup that highlighted my eyes and lips. I was wearing a thin black choker combined with a silver necklace, and as I stared at my reflection in the mirror I decided that I looked excited, but at the same time, I wasn’t trying too hard… I hoped. I kept walking back and forth, trying to keep my expectations at a minimum.
“You’ve been talking to him for two months, Megan,” I told myself. “It’s fine…you know him.”
And yet, it still felt like I was meeting him for the first time. But I supposed that the excitement of seeing him for only the second time since we met was making me feel that way. Phil had told me he would be around to pick me up at seven o’clock, but I saw him step out of his car at six-thirty. He was early, and I took that to be a good sign. We had agreed that on our first date it would be appropriate to go watch a movie together, considering half our conversations over the last couple of months had revolved around film.