The Man Test

by Amanda Aksel

  “You ready to do some fishin’?” James handed me a fishing rod. I sneered and handed it back.

  “Sorry, I don’t know how to fish.”

  “That’s okay.” He returned the rod to me. “I’ll teach you.”

  “I don’t think I’ll catch anything,” I said, holding it toward him.

  “Well, you’ll never know until you try.” He smiled encouragingly and waved me over to follow him. I took the fishing rod, and he positioned himself behind me.

  “All you have to do is pull back.” His hands covered mine while he guided the rod over my shoulder. “Now, in a swift motion, cast the rod forward.” James used his rapid glide and helped me cast the fishing line into the lake. It didn’t seem so hard.

  “Now what?” I asked.

  “Now, we wait.”

  He kissed my cheek and picked up his fishing rod. Rachel and David already had their lines in the water, and I watched James cast his.

  It wasn’t long before David felt a little tug on his line and began to reel it in. Nothing. He recast his line.

  “What happens if something catches?” I asked James.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll help you reel it in.”

  I sighed nervously.

  “Relax, this is supposed to be relaxing,” he said.

  Relax? I didn’t feel very relaxed holding a fishing pole and keeping a slight watch on Marvin who wandered nearby. My shoulders were tense and my neck was stiff. I gazed over the water and let its beauty calm my restlessness. It wasn’t long before I could hear nothing but birds chirping, water swaying, and my breath. It became as centering as a yoga class or running by the bay. David, James, Rachel, and the dog were all so quiet, and I imagined they were having a similar experience.

  I looked over at James and thought about his fidelity, his commitment to us. Suddenly he looked handsomer than usual. The wind blew his soft hair and he squinted in the sunlight, making him look sweet and rugged all at the same time. His choice not to sleep with the Man Test girl was a mystery to me. Somehow, I’d have to get him to tell me about it without implicating my position in the whole ordeal. Only by his explanation would I be truly satisfied. I stared at him, hoping that if I stared long enough I could read his mind to see what he really thought, how he really felt. Then, there was a tug on my fishing rod.

  “Uh oh,” I said.

  “You got something, Marin?” James called. There was another tug so strong it almost pulled the rod from my grip.

  “I think so,” I said. He got behind me like before, telling me to reel it in. I used my strength to turn the reel while he helped me steady the rod. Even with my lack of experience, I could tell there was a big fish on the other end of the line. I reeled the line faster and faster and soon I saw it coming out of the water, a fish. The closer it got, the bigger it appeared. We reeled it all the way in and James released it from the hook.

  “Oh, my God!” I shouted. James examined the fish, then placed it in the cooler.

  “Nice catch!” David yelled, still firmly holding his fishing rod.

  “See. You can fish,” James said.

  I beamed and felt a sense of exhilaration. Not only did I catch the first fish of the day, but it was a nice catch too. “I wanna catch another one,” I said.

  He helped me bait my hook and cast the line back into the water.

  “Go, Marin!” Rachel shouted. I waved at her, grinning. Who knew fishing could be so fun?

  By the time we were done, I caught another three fish. The rest of them only caught one each, which meant I had beaten them by a mile. I wasn’t feeling smug about my success, just excited.

  Heading back to the campsite, Rachel and I carried the fishing rods, while David and James followed farther behind with the cooler full of freshly caught fish, Marvin by their side. We were almost to the site when Rachel unexpectedly fell to her knees.

  “Rachel!” I called and dropped to the ground to see if she was okay. Her breathing was shallow and her face was a pale green.

  “Are you alright?” I asked. She grimaced and turned the other way to get sick. I pulled her hair back as she heaved and vomited on the ground.

  “David!” I shouted, looking out for the guys. “Come quick!”

  They ran toward us, Marvin barking along the way. When they arrived a moment later, Rachel had stopped throwing up and let out a little cry.

  “What happened?” David asked as he dropped to the ground to Rachel’s aid.

  “I don’t know. She fainted and got sick.”

  James retrieved water from his bag and poured it on her wrist and splashed it on her forehead.

  “She might be overheated,” he said as he helped her take a sip.

  “Are you okay?” David asked.

  “I’ll be alright.”

  “Can you stand up?” James asked.

  She tried to rise, but it was obviously difficult. David picked her up and carried her back. James and I followed, making two trips for all the supplies. During that time, David and Rachel decided it was best to pack up their stuff and head back to the city. We agreed and wanted to return with them.

  “No, you guys should stay. Enjoy the rest of the weekend,” Rachel said holding her tummy. After we helped David load his truck, I kissed Rachel on the forehead and wished her better as she climbed in. We waved goodbye as they drove off, and then headed back into the woods. With each step toward the site I grew more anxious about the two of us out in the woods with nothing to do but spend time with one another, quiet time at that.

  We gathered firewood, and I watched James as he filleted the fish we kept, using special care with each one. He prepared the fish over a gas grill and we recalled the afternoon over our romantic camp dinner. To my surprise, the fish was delicious, even better than some of the fish I’d had at specialty seafood restaurants. James said it was because I caught it, to which I blushed.

  Night fell and the only light beaming was the fire. It was more peaceful then any night I had ever experienced. Clusters of bright stars sparkled the night sky, and I tried to remember the last time I had seen so many at once. I don’t think I ever had, especially since the lights of San Francisco drowned them out so much. The temperature dropped quite a bit, but I bundled myself in a warm sweater and cozy blanket. James appeared from the tent carrying a bag of marshmallows.

  “Ready for dessert?” he asked, revealing chocolate and graham crackers.

  “S’mores?” I asked.

  “Yep. It’s not camping if you don’t have s’mores, right?”

  I shrugged, reminding him that I really didn’t know what camping should and shouldn’t have. We warmed the treats over the fire and indulged in their delightfulness. There was something about gooey, melted marshmallows and chocolate that made me feel like a little girl again. I think James felt the same because we sat innocently, laughing at each other’s “yum” sounds.

  “So now what?” I asked as we cleaned up after our s’moresfest. It was only eight and I wasn’t tuckered out enough to go to sleep.

  “David and I usually sit by the fire and drink beer until we can’t keep our eyes open. But, I brought something special for us.” He disappeared into the tent and reappeared with a nice bottle of cabernet.

  “Oooh,” I sang. I could use a bottle of wine.

  “Would you like a glass?”

  I nodded and he poured the wine carefully into two plastic wine glasses then sat across from me near the fire while Marvin lay by his side. We stared at each other from across the flames and slowly sipped our wine. The robust liquid felt warm as it ran down my throat. A perfect way to keep warm in the cold outdoors.

  “What do you think about camping so far?” he asked.

  “I like it. I’m a little surprised that I like it, but it’s been fun.”

  “Good.” He smiled.

  “I want to ask you something,” I said as I sat up and leaned forward.

  “Okay.”

  “I’ve been hesitant to bring this up, but I want to k
now how you feel about us?”

  It was a little trivial asking this, but I wanted to gauge his thinking. Why did he turned down Monica? He shrugged. “I feel good. I care about you a lot and I like being with you. I think we’ve both been taking our time expressing those feelings. You have your reasons and I have mine,” he said. “But I’m not going anywhere. I think we have something, and I want to see where this goes.”

  “What are your reasons?” I asked, puzzled. He sighed loudly and brushed his hand over his face. His body language screamed that he was uncomfortable.

  “I’m divorced,” he said.

  Divorced?

  I was shocked. It was the first I’d heard the D-word come out of his mouth. Apparently, he was capable of keeping secrets.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.” He kept his head down and focused on his glass of wine.

  “Why didn’t you?” I asked.

  “It was a long time ago. I was young and stupid. It’s not something I’m proud of.”

  I sat for a minute absorbing the information. James was in his early thirties. It wasn’t uncommon for a man his age to have some baggage. I certainly had mine. Part of me felt troubled by his omission, but then I remembered all I was hiding and tried not to think too harshly on it. After all, he had passed the Man Test.

  Instead, I began to feel something else. Relief. James seemed so annoyingly perfect, but he had a failed marriage. It was his flaw, the big X on his permanent record.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “She broke my heart. She told me it was a mistake, that we shouldn’t have gotten married so young. But it was a lie.” His heart slowly poured out. I began to feel like I was less of a fake girlfriend and more of his real therapist.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “She just wanted to be with someone else; a guy we went to college with. I had no idea she was unhappy. She never acted any differently, never gave me any signals, and then one day . . . she was gone.”

  “I’m sorry, James.” By his side now, I put my arm over his shoulder and lightly rubbed his back. It was evidently a painful memory.

  He cleared his throat. “After that I dated casually. Very casually. Then I realized that no one was going to fill the hole she left. So I focused on my career. I went on a few dates, but I was still heartbroken. It’s not like I still loved her, but it was hard for me to trust anyone else, you know? And then I met you.” He looked at me honestly, his blue eyes breaking down my wall. It was too much, and I had to look away fearing my deceit would be revealed.

  “Even before I knew about—” James cut himself short.

  “What? Before you knew what?” I asked. His eyes looked away from me.

  “Before I knew about your breakup with Chad.” This admission was more alarming than the last.

  “What do you know about my break-up with Chad?” I asked, a hint of irritation in my voice.

  “I know he betrayed you the same way Vanessa betrayed me.”

  My pulse increased at thought of my exposure. “You knew all this time? Why didn’t you say anything?” I wanted to know why James didn’t cheat, but I wasn’t prepared for the heart to heart. To think that he knew about Chad this whole time. He never said a word. I walked a few feet away, feeling his eyes burn my back with the stare of pity, and why wouldn’t he?

  “Because I know how humiliating it was for me. I didn’t want anyone to know either. Plus, you avoided conversation about your last relationship, and I wanted to respect your privacy.”

  He knew the pain I knew. The same pain that drove me to date him in the first place.

  “I’m sorry,” he called and walked over to me. I kept my back turned and felt a wave a tears prickling my eyes. Why had I felt so emotionally overwhelmed? Was it his honest revelation? The fact that he knew I had been jilted by a cheater? Or was it that he too had been left by someone as bad, if not worse than Chad? James faced me and grabbed my shoulders tightly. He lifted my chin so I could look up onto his face. My eyes were wet with fresh tears.

  “I’m sorry I brought it up. I didn’t mean to upset you,” he said softly.

  “I didn’t want you to know about any of that,” I said sniffling and trying to look away, but his face followed mine with persistence.

  “Trust me, I get it. I want to tell you something else,” he said. I looked at his face and kept his intense gaze.

  “I will never hurt you that way, ever.” His words were genuine enough to inspire more tears. “Marin, I promise, I could never be like that.”

  I believed him. And for the first time since Chad walked out of my apartment, I felt that I might be able to trust another man. Maybe that man was James. And suddenly, it was like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders. Not the weight of knowing I couldn’t trust men, it was the freedom of knowing that I could possibly love again. He wiped my tears from my cheeks, and I lifted myself on my toes to kiss him. His arms wrapped tighter around me and I kissed him harder.

  For the first time in our entire “relationship” our affection felt honest and real. He lifted me like I was weightless, and I wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me into the tent. He kissed me again and laid me down. He said nothing, just kept kissing, kissing my lips, my face, my neck. He took off his shirt, then slipped off mine, gently kissing my shoulders and chest. Slowly we undressed, one piece of clothing at a time until it was just us, as we were made. I straddled him so we were face to face. He stared into my eyes, then gently moved the hair from my face revealing my vulnerable expression. It frightened me, the honesty of it, but I held his gaze anyway. Facing it. Facing us.

  There was a connection, something real, something true, something beautiful. My heart leaped and my stomach fluttered. The smell of his skin intoxicated me like a dangerous drug as he breathed softly on my neck making my whole body tingle. I could see the silhouette of the campfire ablaze, like the fire I felt burn inside of me. Falling deeper and deeper with each passing second of an act I can only describe as making love. We made love continuously into the late hours of the night until I fell asleep wrapped in his arms.

  The next morning I woke up next to James, and in the morning light everything seemed a little brighter. My memory flashed back and I relished in the night we spent together. I was changed. The only question, what would I do with my newest revelation?

  James and I spent the morning drinking campfire coffee and the afternoon hiking in the woods with Marvin. Even though we were having a great time, dark clouds rolled in and we decided to head back to the city early. After an hour’s drive, we passed all traces of rain. We talked while the radio played quietly in the background and Marvin snoozed in the back seat. He actually looked sweet when he was sleeping.

  Fresh air breezed through the car. As the sun set, the sky turn beautiful shades of pink, purple, and gold. Then, a familiar song played on the radio, the one from the piano bar. James smiled and turned up the volume. We sang loudly, lyric by lyric, dancing in the car, and waving to the other road patrons to sing along. Like Telly, he played dashboard drums, while I rocked the air guitar. A perfect end to our trip in the woods.

  James took me home, but I wasn’t ready to end our time together. I asked him to stay over and he easily agreed. Then, I explained to Marvin that if he wanted to stay in the house he would have to be good and not pee on anything. He seemed more relaxed around me and behaved himself the rest of the night while James and I made love once again.

  Sleep didn’t come as easily as it did in the woods. I lay in the dark next to a sound sleeping James. He looked so lovely, peaceful, and certain. The things keeping me awake wouldn’t cross his right mind. My thoughts raced over everything that happened in those last six months—where I started, where I ended up, and everything in between. By two in the morning, I had exhausted every story ending in my head. I made several clear conclusions. First, James was in essence a faithful man. It was a reassuring thought that gave me hope that love and fidelity were still
possible. My second conclusion complicated things and made me uneasy. I genuinely had feelings for him, which tore me up about my final conclusion. I had to end it.

  Relationships should be built on trust and honesty. Not in good conscience could I continue my “relationship” with him, even if my feelings turned real. The guilt would eat me alive, and if he ever discovered the truth . . . well, I didn’t know if he would ever forgive me. Yes, I needed to make a clean break and start over once again. It was the honorable thing to do. Not that I had acted honorably the past few months, but there was no reason for me not to right my wrongs. If I had my own therapist, whichwasn’t a bad idea at this point, I think he would call this growth.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Welcome Back Holly

  James was missing from my bed when the scent of french toast and bacon drew me to the kitchen. He was making breakfast and listening to his iPod.

  “Good Morning,” he said. I wiped the sleep out of my eyes, smiling a drowsy smile, and sat at the breakfast bar. He poured me a fresh cup of coffee and kissed my forehead.

  “How’d you sleep?” he asked.

  “Not bad,” I said, even though it was a restless night. “How about you?”

  “Like a baby,” he said, serving up a delightful plate.

  We enjoyed breakfast together and spent the morning reading the paper, taking turns with each section. Then in the early afternoon, I helped him gather his things and walked him to the door where we said our goodbyes. I told him over and over how much I enjoyed the weekend, then watched him walk out of the building. That’s when I felt it for the first time, I was actually sad to see him go. It might be the last time he would be at my apartment. I ran after him.

  “James.” He turned around. I stopped only inches from him, gazing again in his sweet blue eyes. I brushed my hands on his cheek. “You’re a good man.”