by S. M. Smith
“You look absolutely radiant.” His bright smile lights up when I open the door. He steps through and kisses my cheek. I try to give him an appreciative smile but Stephen’s haunting words have me not wanting to go tonight. I have a sinking feeling that I should stay at home with my fully loaded DVR. Ignoring my gut, I give my couch one last wistful look.
“Thank you,” I say, grabbing my purse.
“All ready?” he asks, holding out his arm. I take it and nod, not able to bring myself to verbally lie to him.
“How was Thanksgiving with your family?” he asks once we are in the car and driving toward the restaurant.
“It was good,” I tell him, not really taking my eyes off the road.
“Good,” he says, his tone telling me he has guessed that I’m not up for much small talk. I know I should ask him about his, but my argument with myself over whether I am giving myself enough time to recover from Jake to even be dating Caleb now is consuming my every thought. Before I know it, we are pulling up in front of the restaurant and Caleb is stepping out to hand the keys to the valet. He opens my door and offers me his hand to step out of the car.
“Are you okay?” he asks as I stand and adjust to take his arm.
“Yeah,” I say while trying to mentally shake my thoughts to a stop. “Just have a few things on my mind tonight.” I give him the best reassuring smile I can muster.
The restaurant is gorgeous, decorated in clean, crisp designs. The room is brightly lit, magnifying the white and espresso décor. Lucas and Shaina are already seated, both radiating with their beautiful, bold smiles, flirting with each other like they’re a couple of love-struck teenagers. Both stand and smile brighter, if that is even possible, as we approach our table. I feel some of my uneasiness fade as Shaina wraps me in a hug.
“Hello, love! It’s soooo good to see you,” she says, squeezing me tight.
“You, too,” I say pulling away. Lucas steps around her and gives me a quick side hug.
“You look as marvelous as ever,” he tells me brightly. I thank him and take my seat, letting Caleb push my chair in for me. His hand brushes my bare shoulder, sending unwanted shivers down my arm. The waiter comes by and fills mine and Caleb’s wine glasses for us and I immediately take a drink. The boys settle into a conversation about the stock market activity from today, so Shaina and I turn to our own conversation.
“How was your Thanksgiving?” I ask her. She immediately starts on her normal rapid speed.
“Our holidays are simple. His family lives on the east coast so we went out there for Thanksgiving, because Lord knows that if we were to go out there for Christmas, we wouldn’t make it back until Valentine’s Day.“ She rambles on and on and I try so hard to pay attention but I just can’t make myself converse. I plaster my faux interested smile on my face and nod along, letting her tell me all about how Christmas for her family typically involves everyone shouting at one another so she and Lucas usually find some excuse to fly south to some beach for their Christmas.
“So, did you guys have a good first Thanksgiving then?” she asks after she has exhausted all her family’s holiday secrets.
“Well, I had a great time with my family, but I really haven’t had the chance to see how Caleb’s trip to London went.” Her eyebrows peak in confusion.
“So, you two didn’t spend Thanksgiving together then? When he called saying his trip got canceled, I assumed that he was spending it with you.” It might not have been fair, but I’m already beyond irritated. To find that he didn’t spend Thanksgiving with his sister AND he didn’t call me, well to say I am pissed is a bit of an understatement.
“Oh! I didn’t know your trip got canceled?” I turn to him, catching him mid-statement. He cringes at his oversight in not explaining this earlier.
“I got called back in by one of our top clients,” he says quietly, like he was still hiding something.
“Hmm.” I press my lips together, suppressing my anger. I’m not in the mood to talk to him, let alone fight with him in public so I leave it at that for now. And apparently take all the energy out of everyone at the table.
The waiter arrives with our food a few seconds later, giving everyone a very welcome distraction. We all start eating quietly, obviously trying not to add fuel to the fire. Shaina must feel bad for unearthing his misstep because she keeps shooting me apologetic looks. Lucas keeps trying to recover some sort of conversation, but stops when Caleb and Shaina keep their responses short and sweet. Caleb doesn’t look at me through the whole dinner, which is probably to his advantage. I’m sure I’m not sending lovey-dovey looks tonight. I search through the memories of our previous conversations, looking for some sign as to if he has left any suspicions with me before. Then I remember the look Shaina gave me when I told her that he would have to wait for me if he wants me. Is he waiting for me? Or is this very important client important enough to stay home with? My gut starts to hurt as I realize that I’m now automatically jumping to this conclusion.
We finish our dinner quickly and quietly. Once the checks are paid, we all get up to leave and Caleb offers me his arm. I take his arm with a straight face, trying determine what I feel most right now. His face is hard to read, but there is guilt and some hope, too. I may feel guilty about instantly thinking he’s cheating, but not enough to let him of the hook for not telling me his plans got canceled.
We step outside and the chilled air catches my breath. While we are waiting on the valet to bring the cars around, Shaina pulls me into a hug.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know-“
“It’s okay. Really. I appreciate your candidness and honesty.” She holds me out from her to look me straight in the eyes.
“Just go easy on him. And hear him out. I’m sure there is some perfectly reasonable explanation.” I try my best to show some reassurance, but I’m beginning to get rather tired of this show of poise and fakeness I have to put on all the time with Caleb.
“I’ll talk to you soon,” I tell her instead and turn to get into Caleb’s car.
Once he is in the car and has taken off, he starts apologizing.
“Jessie, I’m so sorry. I should have told you what happened.” He glances my way, trying to see what my expression is showing, but I’m still not sure what to show.
“Aren’t you tired of apologizing to me?”
“Yes, actually I am.”
“Why do you think you keep doing things that require an apology?” I ask, beyond frustrated. He seems to think about this for a while.
“You make me nervous. You are so different from anyone I’ve ever dated. Your way of doing things is just as new to me as my way is for you.”
“And I have made an effort to do things your way, be a part of your world. But you haven’t even tried to understand my life or what is important to me. My family, my dad, the Cahills, and my church family. The values they hold, that’s what’s important to me and you haven’t even tried. Yet here I am making every accommodation I can for you and what’s important to you. I didn’t even want to go tonight, yet I did. For you, because I want to spend time with you. Which is all I wanted to do on Thanksgiving. But I let that go because you were supposed to be with your sister. I find out days later that you didn’t go from your best friend’s wife. What am I supposed to think about that? What am I supposed to think you did the whole time you were supposed to be gone?”
“You think I was with someone?” he asks sternly.
“You tell me what I’m supposed to think?”
“I’m not him, Jessie.” His words sting like a slap in the face. Tears pool in my eyes and guilt creeps in again.
“It’s not like I seem to be a top priority for you,” I yell back defensively, my voice straining for control. He pulls the car over and lets it idle. Cars zoom by us, but he turns to look me in the eye.
“But you are. You have totally consumed my every spare minute. And I promise you that had I had the chance to get away from work I would have called you.” He reac
hes over and wipes an escaped tear off my face. His touch is gentle, and I struggle not to calm down.
“So, might I ask where you’ll be spending the Christmas holiday, then?” I ask quietly, already sure I know his answer. He sighs, confirming my suspicions.
“I leave for London the Monday before Christmas,” he says quietly after a few minutes. “But I have nothing, and I mean nothing planned for the weekend before. We can do whatever you want. I can meet your family. We can go to whatever parties or dinners or whatever you want the weekend before. I’m all yours.” He tries to flash me a reassuring look and I really want to believe him. But something in the back of my head knows that he isn’t going to be able to uphold this promise.
He faces the front again and checks traffic to make sure he can pull back onto the road. I wipe the tears out of my eyes as he drives on. He pulls up in front of my building, and I sigh, beyond exhausted with tonight’s charade. He makes his way around to my door and opens it for me and I take his hand to climb out, but drop it as soon as my feet are on the ground. He starts to pull me into a hug, but I pull away.
“Thank you for dinner,” I tell him with a big sigh.
“I take it you don’t want me to walk you to your door.”
“Not really, no. I’ll-“ I almost say that I’ll call him tomorrow, but I can’t decide when I want to talk to him again. “I’ll call you later.”
He starts to look hurt, but something that appears to be very close to anger flashes across his face.
“Fine. I’ll talk to you later.” He gives me a firm look, turns around, gets in his car and drives away. I watch his taillights, feeling a little upset that I made him mad. I’m tired of feeling guilty for making him feel bad, but I legitimately have a right to be mad and he does not.
Realizing that I probably look like a complete moron standing on the sidewalk in a cocktail dress at the beginning of December, I turn back toward my building and hurry inside.
***
I pound hard on the door, hoping to drag her out of bed. Daphne isn’t much of a night owl and I know I’m interrupting her beauty sleep, but I need her now. The sleepy redhead opens the door with her hair looking oddly similar to a bee hive with loose curls, standing in baggy sweats and an old Mizzou t-shirt with her thick, black-rimmed glasses. I hold up the bag with two pints of ice cream and a copy of 27 Dresses.
“I need you.”
Her rigid stance of annoyance softens before she pushes her door open for me. I hand her the movie and make a bee line for her kitchen to get spoons. She puts in the movie while I throw the lids to our ice cream containers on the counter. I jump over the back of her couch to settle in the corner, handing her the pint of mint chocolate chip. She sits on the arm of the couch, feet in the seat, looking down at me with inquisitive eyes.
“And to what do I owe the pleasure of this late night disturbance?” she asks.
“Men.”
“Ooo! My favorite topic.” She brightens up and claps too eagerly. I roll my eyes at her as she slides into her corner. The music to the opening menu for the movie plays on repeat in the background as I think about where I want to start.
“Do you think it’s too late for us?”
“Us, as in you and Caleb?”
“Us, as in you and me. Do you think it’s too late for us to find the perfect man in our lives? Do you think we’re destined for a meaningful, long term relationship?”
“You,” she points her spoon with a pile of minty cream on it at me, “have plenty of time. Me. It’s not in His plan for me.”
“You don’t believe that.” Daphne has had a rough go of relationships in her lifetime, but I have to believe that God created someone for her.
“Regardless of what I believe for me, it’s you who showed up at my door with ice cream and a chick flick. What’s bothering you, sister?”
“Caleb.” She gives me the look. You know the look your big sister gives you when you come home crying because the jerk she told you not to date breaks your heart and now you’re asking her why she didn’t say something. I continue anyway, “I don’t think he sees me, or my world, as an equal to his. I don’t think he thinks what I do or the people I have in my life are important.”
“Okay. And just what gave you this idea?” she asks almost sarcastically. I’m too riled up to really register her tone though.
“For our second date, he takes me to a football game where we watch the game from a suite. A suite!! Then he blows me off to talk business with his friends for the first half of the game, like he forgot I was even there or something. Then he invites me to his stuck up dinner party where the only other person I get along with is his best friend’s stay-at-home wife. He has yet to really hang out with me and my friends, but I’ve been to every single one of his favorite restaurants, where half the time, it’s some sort of business meeting. Oh! Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving! I invited him to come with me to meet my dad and he tells me he’s visiting his sister in London. So because he’s supposed to be with his family, I let him off the hook. Then tonight I found out, he didn’t go because he got called in to work for a big wig client of his. Which he didn’t even have the audacity to tell me about, Shaina did!”
“Oh….wow!”
“Oh yeah! And you can only imagine what I think that could mean. So now I’m replaying every single conversation we’ve ever had in my head, trying to find any sign that I should believe him or have reason to doubt him.”
“Jess, you can’t let yourself do that. Not every man is hiding something from you. Not every man is Jake and is going to cheat on you.”
“How can I be sure? Because I was pretty sure with Jake, and well, look where that landed me.” I take a breath and make sure I haven’t flung ice cream anywhere during my rant. I haven’t, I’m good.
“You can’t do that, Jess. You have to have faith at some point.”
“But where has he given me any reason to believe him? He says he’s sorry. But if he truly was, he’d stop having to say it by now.”
“I agree.”
“But then he goes and turns on his million dollar charm, saying stuff that makes me feel like I’m the only girl in the world.” Oh great, now I sound like a Rhianna song. “He tells me I’m beautiful and then oddly enough, he tries to make a pass at sleeping with me, which some sick part of me takes as a compliment. Then he tells me he’s willing to make my priorities his. Like, for instance, he says the weekend before Christmas I’m all his, that we can do whatever I want to do.”
“So he’ll be at my Christmas party then?”
“I hope so, but I don’t know because what happens if another VIP client calls needing him to come in and save the day. What assurance do I have that he’s going to tell them no and stay with me? If his past actions are any indication as to his future commitments, then I think it’s safe to say there’s a good chance he won’t be making it.”
I take a bite of ice cream, stuffing my face so that I will stop talking for a few minutes. Daphne just watches me, waiting for me to finish venting. I don’t know what else to say. Heck, I don’t know what I want her to say. We both sit in silence, nursing our ice cream.
“What would you do if you were in my position?” I finally ask her. She hesitates before answering.
“Honestly?” She looks at me to make sure I seriously want her opinion. “I would have you go for someone who is more like you, someone who already makes you happy and doesn’t need you to change to be a part of his world,” she says, not really looking at me.
“And just who might that be?” She looks up at me like I should know exactly who she’s talking about, but I haven’t a clue.
“Really? You seriously don’t see it?” I stare at her shaking her head at me like I’ve lost my mind. “Stephen, you nitwit!”
“What? I couldn’t possibly see him like that.”
“But don’t you? You should have seen your face the day we were at lunch and he texted you. You lit up faster than the siren lights on a county sher
iff’s car on a high speed chase. You can’t possibly tell me that you don’t feel comfortable around him and like you don’t need to change for him. And, honey, let me tell you. I’m pretty sure he thinks you hung the moon. He hasn’t said anything, but I see the way he is around you. He will do just about anything to make you smile.” She nods her head in approval as if she knows she’s right on the money.
“But he’s like the big brother I never had.”
“Yes, but he’s not your brother and he still goes out of his way to take care of you.”
“Yes, but he’s like family.”
“Like family or not, that boy treats you like the kind of princess you are. I bet you he’ll be at that Christmas party or any event you’re at, come hell or high water, just simply because you’re there.”
I try to shake off her words because they don’t make any sense. I haven’t ever thought of Stephen as anything more than the best friend he is and I can’t start thinking like that now. I have to have faith that Caleb will pull through and be the gentleman he can be and keep his word.
But something does strike me about what Daphne said about Stephen. Wasn’t I just thinking about how comfortable he made me feel? Not to mention how hot he is. For crying out loud, he saw my pink flamingo pajamas! I’m pretty sure Caleb would be mortified if he saw me like that. But isn’t that what the difference between a best friend and a boyfriend is supposed to be?
“All I’m sayin’,” Daphne adds as she picks up the remote, “is that Stephen wouldn’t make you change everything for him, without giving up pieces of himself in the process. Now, can you say that for Caleb?”
She pushes play as if her question is rhetorical. But she is right. I can’t say that for Caleb.
Chapter Fourteen
Three dozen frosted sugar cookies, eight dozen chocolate covered pretzels, four batches of three different types of fudge, two dozen gingersnaps, two gingerbread houses, and a fruit cake. That is the list of baked goods Daphne handed me three days ago for her Christmas party…..tomorrow. If I hadn’t been baking for these incredibly fun parties since we were in college, I would have told her she was insane. But each year the guest list gets bigger and the event gets better and I spend a week afterwards making sure everyone gets the recipes they ask for.