by Mistake: (Poison & Wine, book 1)

by Sigal Ehrlich

  Given our little chat before the fine male coincidental arrival, I feel like I’m a bit cornered here. Not even ten minutes ago I declared to my sister that I have no problem going on a date with someone, and this someone more than fits the bill of said someone. Good looking, friendly, someone who troubled himself to meet me in person just because he heard good things about me from his grandma, which by itself is sort of swoon-ish. “Sure, you have my contact.” I smile at him, though said smile is a superficial one. One that comes in great contrast to the unpleasant lurch in my stomach.

  I Don’t Understand it, but this Time it’s Different

  “Earth to Brody.” Long pause. “Come in, Dumbass,” Freddie says in a mechanical voice, surrounding his mouth with his hands like a megaphone. “Hello, is there anyone out there? Helloooo?”

  I shake my head, coming back from another mind lapse. I flip him the finger and return to my burger, taking a rich bite. Both my friends sneer in humored confusion, both watching me as I chew.

  “Wha?” I grunt through a bite.

  “Did you even listen? Dude, what’s going on with you?” It’s Billy.

  “What?” I ask, covering my full mouth, still not entirely engaged.

  “What? We’ve been talking to you for I don’t know how long and you are obviously somewhere else.”

  “This is ground control to Major Tom,” Freddie sings.

  Billy eyes me for a stretch. “Okay, I understand. Something’s going on. How about you talk to us whenever the voices in your head subside.”

  I nod, then shake my head again. “Sorry, what?”

  “Unreal,” Billy utters on a frustrated sigh. They exchange a look and turn to observe me.

  “Okay, what the fuck?” Freddie articulates eloquently.

  What’s going on? I feel like a damn star-struck teenage girl who just met her idol and found out he’s everything she thought and so much more. I feel like I have fucking hearts in my eyes, and I’m still a little high as if I just dreamed the ultimate dream. That’s how I’ve felt since I met Anna and how I’ve felt each time she’s popped into my thoughts, which you can guess has been a nearly perpetual thing. Given, that’s not what I’m going to tell these two idiots. “I met Anna in person last weekend.”

  The bomb slowly makes its way to recognition territory.

  Boom. Surprised looks.

  Fallout. Exchanged surprised looks.

  Aftermath. They both stare at me now with an elaborate-you-dumbass look of silence.

  “It was good. She’s pretty cool. She’s awesome.” I swallow. “She’s actually.” I scratch my stubble. “Remember the blonde from Poison?” Brows are raised in question. “The Blonde,” I emphasize.

  “Hold up, the one you were drooling over?” Billy asks.

  “The one.” I raise my eyes to my friends. “That’s Anna.”

  “Get out of here.” Billy.

  “Shut the fuck up.” Freddie. “Bull crap!”

  I nod. “That’s her, boys.” They eye me incredulously. “That’s her and she’s as cool in person as she was all this time we’ve been emailing and texting,” I add.

  Freddie frowns. “What are the odds?” And then, “What’s the problem then, what’s with the miserable look? I don’t get it.”

  “Right, isn’t it a good thing?” Billy asks. “Oh shit, did she shoot you down?”

  I shake my head. “No. We worked. We really worked. We had a fantastic time together.”

  “She awful in the sack?” Freddie asks.

  I give him a can-it look to which he raises his hands in surrender, murmuring, “Touchy.”

  I take a drink of my beer. “If I would have met her at a different time I would have done anything to make her mine. But–” I inhale deeply. “It won’t work now. I can’t do it right now. And she’s definitely not casual material. I mean I don’t think I could do casual with her.” Truth be told, I just know it in every fiber of my being that the moment I touch her I’ll be fucking gone. Given how it felt having her leaning on me, I just know if there were to be any kind of physical intimacy I’d never be able to go back. Never be able to let her go.

  “You’re acting like a chick. Overthinking and overreacting, dude,” Freddie says, playing with the toothpick in his fingers. He puts it in this mouth and then pulls it out, points the edge my way. “Just go with it, see what happens and stop coming up with shit excuses. It’s time to grow up, young Liam.”

  “You know,” Billy says, and I turn my attention to him. “There’s a linear line between the shit you feed yourself, how it evolves in your head, and your actions. I know, at this point in your life you have a lot going on. I heard it all before.” His eyes challenge mine. “C’mon man, when do we not? There’s always something. Always an excuse. I’ve been in your shoes, believe me, it’s not that I’m talking out of my ass.”

  He squints a little, making sure whatever he’s saying is getting through. “While in your shoes, up to my knees with studies, exams, and internship, I met Casey and guess what? We made it work. It was on the backburner by mutual consent, but it still existed. We couldn’t see each other as much as we wanted, but we did see each other. It was a mess and it was hard, but I didn’t want to give her up. I knew I’d want her in my future. And I knew that if I let her go I wouldn’t have her ever. What I’m trying to say is build your career around your life, not your life around your career.”

  “Casey is unique,” I comment.

  “She is and you know what, Anna might be unique too.” He holds my stare. “Not everyone is Cheryl.”

  My jaw stones over at the mention of Cheryl’s name. Billy’s eyes on me are relentless.

  In a moment of utter maturity and sobriety, Freddie breaks the stare down as he says, “Brody, I suggest you take a serious look into what’s hindering you before you make these declarations. Try figuring yourself out first before you either choose to pass on it or commit to it. Obviously, there’s something compartalized that you’re, for whatever reason, trying to avoid unpacking. Or . . . maybe she’s just not all that you hype her up to be.”

  Oh, Anna is, definitely, all that. And then some. The version of her that I had in my head that in a sense felt a bit like fantasy was nearly perfect, but the glorious real version – mind-blowing.

  See, I’m not afraid of commitment. In fact I want it. I see myself a few good years from now with the girl of my dreams, kids and the pet, the bills, the fights, the sex after fights, lazy Sunday morning sex, and little smiles that make your heart grow seven sizes bigger. I see evenings on the sofa with legs on the table, my arm around my future person, watching some late-night show, happy in our suburban little bubble. But these times aren’t now. Now is the time to build the foundations for that. Now is following what I’ve set myself up to achieve, and the only way for it to work is to give it a hundred percent of myself. I tried the relationship thing, it didn’t work. It ended badly. I don’t want to repeat that, especially not with someone like Anna.

  Despite the way things are, I really want to see her again. After I met her in person, just the online/phone thing won’t cut it. I want the smiles, I want the frowns, I want the little wrinkle of thought at the bridge of her nose, I want the way she sometimes twirls her ring around her finger or the eye squint when she checks her phone. The rest, well, I’ll figure everything out later. Right now I need to bring things back to how they were. I need to have her in my life.

  “In other news,” Billy, probably reading my lack of interest to further discuss the matter, says, “You got a letter from Doctors Without Borders.”

  I glare at him. “And you waited until now to tell me?”

  “What, I was being considerate, letting you talk about your feelings again like a little pussy.”

  The chuckle coming from the left belongs to Billy.

  “Billy Francis, I expect more from you,” I say drily to my beer.

  “Fuck off, Brody.”

  And once again we settle our little dispute like adul
ts.

  “I thought they’d call me,” I say, turning to Billy. “Why would they send a letter? Shit, it’s a rejection.”

  “I don’t remember how they communicated with me at this stage, but some of the communication was via letters. Maybe just for sake of formality.” Billy muses. “Unless they’re overstuffed at the moment, which I don’t believe they ever are. I don’t see a reason why they wouldn’t accept you to the program.” Then he adds, “There’s always need for extra hands when it comes to trauma surgeons. I’d be seriously surprised if it’s a rejection.”

  The minute we step into the apartment, I get the thin envelope lying on our coffee table and unceremoniously rip it open. I read the contents with Freddie’s stare zeroed in on me.

  . . . In line with the first completed examination for our organization and your recommendations, it’s with deep pleasure that you are here-in invited for a personal meeting . . .

  My full-blown grin has Freddie slapping my back. “I had zero doubt, man. It’s you! I’ve known you what, for a million years now?”

  Still grinning, I say, “Just about.”

  Freddie drops onto the sofa, eyes on me. “Even your risks are calculated. You always know what you’re doing, and you always get what you want. I knew you’d get in.”

  I drop my head humbly, a satisfactory smile tilting my lip as I take a seat next to him, propping my legs up on the low table.

  Freddie turns pensive. “Now that you got this out of the way, I know you feel like this Anna chick is some sort of a risk right now. A deviation. Doesn’t align with Liam’s meticulously calculated timeline.”

  “Wait, aren’t we done talking about my feelings?” I say dryly, opting to change the subject.

  He pivots to look at me. “Dude, I’ve never seen you so into someone. Never. Maybe this one’s a risk worth taking even though she’s not on the timeline . . . yet. Not everything should be a Goldilocks situation. Life’s not a predicted affair.”

  And Anna leaps back into my thoughts at light speed in tandem to a pang in the vicinity of my chest. The feeling is inexplicable. It’s like my brain has been hijacked and induced with thoughts and emotions that don’t make sense. Not for a person I’ve known for twenty-four hours . . . okay, for much longer . . . but up until that meeting, she was an anonymous person who offered many enjoyable electronic interactions. That was all. I’ve had plenty of crushes before. I even had the love thing, or so I believed. But this – this I can’t understand. It’s different. It’s so much fucking more.

  I frown at Freddie. He raises his hands in surrender. “Just saying, maybe tweak that timeline a little. Or give her up altogether.”

  Put the Damn Thing On and Smile

  “Great job, everyone! See you next week,” I tell the packed studio, full of sweaty faces, colorful hairbands and lemon infused water bottles. I do a quick cleanup around the room and head to the office. I have thirty minutes before my next lesson. Time to catch up on administrative stuff. My phone that’s facing down vibrates on the desk as I take a seat in the corner of the studio office. I pick it up and accidentally accept the call before checking who it is.

  “I was about to text you but then decided to call,” Liam says by way of greeting.

  “Oh, hold up, let me just call the milk people, I guess we won’t need the missing person thing, after all,” I say, albeit there’s not a trace of animosity in my voice.

  He huffs a laugh. I can just imagine him holding the nape of his neck as he says, “About that.”

  There’s a hint of humor in my words as I say, “Yeah, I’m all ears.”

  He sounds utterly uncomfortable saying, “I was busy and—”

  I cut him off and say in a light tone, “No you weren’t. Let’s spare us both any humiliating explanations. I think we’re way beyond that. You didn’t want to talk so you didn’t. Fine. Bygones and all that.” I inhale deeply. “How are you, now that I at least know you’re alive.”

  “Anna—”

  “Liam,” I mimic his tone. “How are you?”

  He lets out what sounds like a content sigh. “I’m good, missed talking to you though.”

  “Good that you called me then.”

  For a moment and a half, his silence seems a bit hesitant but when I lightly laugh and repeat that we’re good, old Liam is back. The one I’ve been waiting to talk to again, the one who was in my head, confusing the heck out of me for disappearing. “See it was nice having you in my life. I got used to you.” I chuckle and he laughs briefly in return. “What can I say, I like you, Liam.”

  His next words are low and somewhat hoarse. “You have no idea, Anna.”

  A couple more sentences into the conversation and we’re back to the way we were before he ran from me like I had the plague.

  “What, go back,” I say next referring to something he mumbled between telling me about a thing at work and something dumb his friend, the Freddie guy, did. “It’s your birthday?”

  “Yep.” Short and flat.

  I make an excited sound. “Happy birthday! How are you celebrating?”

  “Saving lives!” He chuckles, “God, such a douchey thing to say. I’m stuck here till tomorrow.” He chuckles again. “You know I can’t just walk away, right?”

  “Nope, not having it. No birthday of a friend of mine will go uncelebrated.”

  “I’m your friend?” he teases.

  “Hey, didn’t we establish that you were my number one e-person? I think that constitutes a friendship of sorts.”

  “Right,” Liam says. The single word full of delight.

  “When do you have a break next?”

  He takes a moment, probably checking his schedule or whatnot. “I can have one around four. But it’s not guaranteed, you know, if something big comes in—”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  Liam is being paged, but just before ending the call, he suggests meeting at one of the benches outside the E.R. which he explains, twice, how to find.

  A bit before four, I drop off the birthday arsenal I brought with me onto The Bench. There are a few benches scattered around the enormous building, but I was able to easily find the one Liam talked about, the shabby, blue one that’s under a lofty sycamore tree.

  “Anna,” Liam’s voice reaches me from a few steps away as I close one of the large cardboard boxes I brought with me. I turn around and my stomach does a couple of flips. Liam walks my way in navy scrubs and a genuine, happy smile. “Hey,” he gives me a quick hug. One that brings along his warmth and a musky boy scent that does things to me. Stepping back, Liam looks at me with contentment in his eyes. He shakes his head with such an emotive cadence. It’s an I-find-you-sweet kind of headshake.

  I wonder if he can clearly read what my stare is transmitting. The hey-Liam- I’m-so- effing-into-you one. “Happy birthday!” I exclaim and clap with utter joy. Liam’s grin grows and grows. White teeth and a whole lot of happy in his eyes. I gesture to the bench with my hand and Liam takes a seat.

  “So,” I say while releasing a soft pink and purple polka dot cone-shaped hat from its twin. I hand Liam one.

  He observes the girlie-girl party accessory, turning it in his hand. Tilting the pointed tip toward his chest, he mouths, “For me?”

  I nod, grinning. Go on, I gesture with my hand. Liam looks around hesitantly at the people milling around and his eyes end on mine. He raises his eyebrows in inquiry. I nod, reassuringly. Go on now.

  I don’t think so given it’s my place of work, his second inspection of our surroundings says in so many words.

  “Okay, birthday boy—” I snatch the hat from his hand and adjust it on his head. I might have taken a couple of more lungful’s while at it. Might have. “Put the damn thing on and smile.”

  “So demanding,” Liam says over a surprised chuckle.

  “Here, so you’re not the only one looking like a goof.” I send him a radiant smile while adjusting the other cardboard hat on my head, elastic string around the chin and all
.

  Liam looks at me and bursts out in happy laughter. “Okay, if there’s a moment that has ever deserved a selfie it’s this one.” Liam pulls his phone out of the pocket of his scrubs. “Scoot over,” he says while sneaking his arm around my waist and pulling me against him. Leaning my head against his collar bone, I tilt my chin up and smile at the camera.

  “Say goofball,” Liam says and snaps a couple of photos.

  The feeling of being pressed against him will never get old. If I had it my way, I’d grab a blanket and stay like this the rest of the afternoon, or until his pager demanded he return to work – I don’t want anyone dying on my account..

  Reluctantly, I slide back to my space. I cross my legs on the bench and put a pink box on my thighs. Liam watches me closely as I pull up the lid to reveal rows of thirty sprinkled, chocolate cupcakes.

  “Lov – Anna,” He corrects himself, but not quickly enough for an intense look to pass between us. “You really didn’t have to.” His healthy perfect teeth peak beneath his lips, square jaw engaged, cheeky smile appearing. “Not to mention you sort of went overboard with the quantity, don’t you think?”

  “Oh, it’s for your friends, up there,” I point my finger at the colossal building. “Doctors, nurses, your buddies.”

  Liam’s smile flattens into a soft, clandestine one. For a whole of ten beats or more, he stares at me, slowly cocking his head. His lips part to say something but shortly after snap shut.

  “Not a cupcake fan or do you not have any buddies to share with?” I tease, both uncomfortable and deeply moved by his silent struggle.

  He clears his throat and the words just seem to escape from his mouth out of his control, “You’re something else.”

  I don’t think anyone has ever looked at me the way he looks at me.

  My heart, at this moment, is so much bigger than its designated space in my chest. It’s a million tons of moving mass, accelerating in all directions with the only thing that could stop it being this guy. It’s almost more than I can bear. I break the intensity by offering Liam one of the cupcakes which he happily takes. “Oh, wait,” I say as he attempts to take the first bite. I produce a candle from my bag and stick it in the middle of the cupcake. I communicate, “wait,” holding one finger up while searching my bag for the box of matches. Liam waits as told, his eyes caressing me, following my every move. “Here we go,” I say once the candle is properly lit. “Make a wish.”