by Stefania Gil
“You know I can hardly believe everything you're saying is true, right?”
“I'd be worried if you'd acted differently,” she said.
We both laughed.
“I still think you should see a therapist-with or without Sam's ghost, Holly you need help.”
She stared at me seriously.
“Holly, I'm not saying it because you're crazy. Although I find it hard to believe Sam is around here and you can see and talk to him. I think you should talk to someone.”
“What do you think a therapist would think if I showed up at his office saying, Hello, I'm Holly and I can see and talk to my husband who recently died?”
I made a face, she was right. Even the good Dr. Rose would doubt her mental stability.
I sighed.
“Well, I understand the situation is complicated. You can go to the office to talk about how much you miss your husband.”
“Okay! I’ll go and talk about how much I miss Sam, if you go with me and explain to the same therapist why you insist on being alone, if you go around crying in the corners of your house because of the solitude surrounding you.”
I stared at her with a long face.
“All right, Holly Morgan. We won’t talk about going to the therapist any more. I got it.”
***
Really, I didn’t mention it again. I knew if I continued badgering Holly to go visit Rose, we would end up in group therapy to overcome our fears.
Holly would get over it. I wasn’t so sure about me.
It wasn’t that I thought it was a good idea for her to be haunted by her husband's ghost 24 hours a day, on the contrary, I was very worried. Holly had not overcome her husband's physical absence and sooner or later she would have to.
It seemed crazy to me, and I had done and heard some crazy things, but being able to see and speak to the ghost of your husband, exceeded everything I could have done, seen or heard.
From the bottom of my heart, all I wanted for my friend was to have the strength to break Sam's attachment sooner rather than later. It would help her move forward. Holly was a young woman, brave and deserved to continue with her life. As does anyone who suffers a misfortune like the ones she lived through.
Thus passed the weeks, among the work at the florist shop, which at this time of the year was still good for floral decorations, and the new orders for dietary desserts which was increasing little by little.
In addition, we spent many hours creating a good business plan to present to Susan and Caroline when we had the opportunity to meet.
They were also loaded with work and we hadn’t been able to agree on a time for a formal meeting with the future members, yet.
We were two days away from celebrating Thanksgiving.
The city’s atmosphere was charming due to the Christmas spirit.
During this time, I only received a couple of calls from James, very briefly by the way. For one reason or another we were always interrupted and would have to leave the conversation for another day.
I had intended to see him a couple of times, but I had rejected the idea. Not that it had made me forget about him, no, but at least I didn’t think about him the entire day.
I was comfortable with that and I had not had another hormonal attack to the point of having to place a couple cucumber slices on my eyes.
On Thanksgiving, I would go to Holly's house as usual, however this time I wouldn’t give it a second thought. It would be the first Thanksgiving Sam would not be with them. Physically, I say. I had a hard time getting used to Sam's new condition.
All Sam’s family, Holly, their children, Amanda Holly's mother who I was not happy with due to how she manipulated and hurt my friend, but she was her mother. The only choice we had was to bare it, and Paul, Holly's father, would surely come with the woman he had fallen in love with. They met on an online dating page.
I laughed every time I thought about it. I couldn’t imagine a man Paul's age, setting up a blind date on the internet. I admired his bravery for having easily adapted to technology and wanting to meet someone to share his life with.
You see? There I was again celebrating others getting the love of their lives and I, determined to close myself off to love. As my wise mother said: Do as I say, but not as I do.
I snorted and smiled as I picked a nice pumpkin at the grocery store to make my famous pumpkin pie for dinner at Holly's. Suddenly, my skin prickled at the sound of the husky voice that always made me crazy.
“Would you teach me how to make pumpkin pie?” I turned around and there was James, with his fantastic smile and bright blue eyes.
I smiled at him.
“Hello,” I said, my stupid cheeks blazing red. As well as the inappropriateness of my heart, which quickened.
“You did not answer my question.” He approached me brushing a gentle kiss on my cheek.
The smell of his perfume, sweet but fresh, invaded my nostrils. I imagined this is the same pleasure drug addicts received.
That was James, an unbearable drug that I had to avoid at all costs. Although my other half always betrayed me in the worst way.
“Yes, I would teach you.” “Damn! To my other self, I had to banish her to the dungeon.
He whispered in my ear:
“I would only accept if you didn’t wear clothes.”
My girly parts dampened.
I sighed deeply. Very deep.
“Next time, we'll have to order a room with a kitchen,” I said, smiling, and pulled away pretending to be looking for another pumpkin.
I already had one in my hands, worth mentioning.
He gazed at me with a lopsided smile as he shook his head.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing Jen, nothing.” He walked over to his shopping cart. I couldn’t help but notice its contents.
Chocolate, baby cereal, chocolate, chocolate chip cookies, several cans of Campbell's soups, eggs, butter, milk and more chocolate. Everything was disorganized.
I didn’t have to be a genius to realize two things: he didn’t know how to cook and without a doubt, he had children because I didn’t see him eating cereal with dolls in the morning.
It was a problem for me meeting my occasional friends at the supermarket on account of learning segments of their life thanks to what they placed in their shopping cart.
“A balanced diet, right?” I said smiling.
He insisted on studying the pumpkin section, what the hell, the one in his hands, was more than good.
James shrugged his shoulders.
“I don’t know how to cook and I'm a chocolate fanatic,” he said, looking at my cart.
Mine was the total opposite. Everything was organized.
Meat, chicken, vegetables, olive oil, and yes, also chocolate and ice cream.
AHA! Ice cream, in the middle of a Chicago winter.
I wasn’t crazy, I was premenopausal.
We were silent for a while longer, he with his arms crossed over his chest analyzing me and me, observing the pumpkins.
The man made me nervous, aware, and singed my brain cells, preventing me from thinking clearly.
“What are you looking at, James?”
“I'm trying to understand why you keep studying the pumpkins if you already have one in your hands, which I assure you, is perfect for the pie.” He stepped forward just enough to make goosebumps form on my skin. “I'm not a ferocious wolf Jen, I'm not going to eat you. Not yet.” He kissed me again on the cheek. “I'll call you tomorrow, I want to take you to dinner.”
Was it so obvious how nervous I was that even James realized it?
“I'll be busy with dinner arrangements at Holly's house tomorrow.”
James smiled beautifully at me.
“If you don’t go out to dinner with me tomorrow, I assure you that I'll ask Rick for your address and I'll come to your house. You'll have to open the door for me and I’ll cook naked.”
Rick would tell him everything including my birthday if he asked him with the s
mile he was giving me now.
I snorted finally placing the damn pumpkin inside my cart.
“All right, James”—my house was mine and my occasional friends were not invited. “You don’t have to call me tomorrow, send me a message to tell me where we can meet and the time. I'll be there.”
“None of that.” He stopped smiling. “I accepted your rules last time and this time, you must accept mine. I'll come by and we'll go out to dinner together.”
I looked him dead in the eye.
“I'll drive you home, Jen.” There is no discussion. I don’t always want to see you in a hotel bar. I'm going to quit fooling around because I don’t want you for that. Is that understood?”
I don’t want you for that. I don’t want you for that. Those words tumbled in my head.
I couldn’t answer, I couldn’t.
A mixture of nerves, joy and panic when he told me he didn’t want me for that washed over me.
So why did he want me? Did James want me for something else?
I had to get away from him before I became entangled in a sentimental situation.
I had to run far away.
He kissed me on the cheek again and without saying anything else, he left.
***
The next day I was like a walking time bomb.
Rick, sent me to hell several times for snapping at him.
It wasn’t my fault, it was all James' fault.
All.
My nerves and my bad mood were his fault.
I wasn’t going out with him under his terms.
I wouldn’t let him into my house. No. No. No. A thousand times no.
“What the hell is wrong with you today?” Rick said entering my office without warning.
“I'm in a bad mood. Period.”
“Yes, that's as clear as water,” he said, placing a hand on his hip. “But I want you to explain why.”
“I have nothing to say, Rick. If you're done, you can go home. I’ll see you the day after tomorrow.”
“I’m not moving from here until you explain.”
I snorted.
“You're unbelievable,” I said.
“No more than you, believe me,” he said wryly.
I told him about running into James at the supermarket.
“I don’t understand why you refuse to give such a handsome man a chance.”
“I am, Rick, only as bed buddies and now. Obviously, he wants something more.
“Don’t tell me?” He asked again wryly. “Let me tell you, he is very patient with you, which means he likes you and wants something serious.”
I stared at him directly in the eyes and mine began to sting.
A lump grew in my throat.
“Exactly,” Rick said, folding his arms. “Cry, because I'm telling you the truth and the truth, usually hurts. You don’t want to accept James because you're afraid. Be honest with him and stay in the solitude of your house for the rest of your life. Surely it is more fun to cry in solitude than to enjoy the charms of that man.”
He turned and walked away.
The tears slipped from my eyes.
Rick was quite right about everything.
Five minutes later, he returned and hugged me tightly.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to talk to you that way.”
I sobbed inconsolably.
“Shhhh honey, don’t be silly, have fun with James. Life is to enjoy and love is a part of life. Give him the opportunity to win your heart and enjoy every moment.”
“And if I get hurt again?”
“In that case, it would be necessary to take you somewhere away from your bad luck, because three out of three would be too much. Even I would help kick his ass if he hurts you.”
We both laughed.
“I can’t imagine you kicking James' ass.”
“Not me, my dear, but my brother would be willing to do it for me. While I look like my brother, I would bounce off his steel buttocks.”
He stared at me curiously. He knew I wanted confirmation.
“Yes,” he smiled, “they're actually made of steel.”
“Then, go home and make yourself beautiful for tonight and please don’t do anything stupid. Do not scare him.”
“I'll try. Take the day off tomorrow.”
“Sorry dear. I have a couple of special arrangements and I have to come in, whether I want to or not.”
I looked at him doubtfully. I didn’t know we had special orders.
“I can do them.”
“That, didn’t even cross my mind. Tomorrow, come in with a lot of coffee and chocolate cookies to tell me about your date and while you talk, I’ll work.”
I smiled again. Rick had a big heart.
I stopped being silly and went home.
I took a relaxing shower and groomed every inch of my body. I wanted to be prepared for the fabulous night of sex waiting for me with James.
Yes, I knew, we would go to dinner first. We would talk and surely, I would learn things about his life and also, I would tell him things about mine.
My stomach lurched at the thought.
The best way to overcome fear, I remembered Rose saying, “ is to confront it.”
***
When I was getting dressed, I texted James with my home address.
My hands shook ever since I hit send.
I breathed deeply, as I checked myself out in front of the mirror. On the outside, of course because the inside was chaos, which increased when the doorbell sounded.
I peered at the clock.
8 p.m.
I breathed again and opened the door.
James smiled, his eyes flashed while scanning me from head to toe.
Especially my feet.
I wore black high-heeled boots. The dress I chose was discreet, black, long-sleeved, and knee-length. Everything sexy was under the dress. A seductive corset garter with black lace.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered in my ear while kissing me tenderly on the cheek.
“Thank you.” I smiled, as I blushed. “You look very handsome tonight, also.”
He wore a dark gray suit with thin white stripes and a light gray shirt.
“Come on,” he said, taking me by the hand and leading me to the car.
Like a gentleman, he opened the door helping me into the car.
He sat down beside me, started the engine and we left.
I was still like a walking bundle of nerves.
Breathe and relax, Jen.
He slid a sideways glance at me.
He smiled.
“What?” I asked.
“It's funny for a woman your age to be so nervous on a date.”
“The problem is it’s been a long time since I’ve had a date and I don’t know if I’m at ease thinking I'm on a date.”
He laughed.
“I think I like your sincerity the most.”
“I thought Mr. Hyde was what you liked best about me.”
He sighed.
“I'm discovering there are many things about you that I like, Jen.”
My cheeks turned a thousand shades of red.
We got to the restaurant, parked car and he helped me out of the car.
James had chosen a famous-and luxurious-restaurant downtown for dinner.
We walked in informing the hostess we had a reservation.
They took us to our table.
We were seated and James ordered a bottle of wine.
“To the first of many dates with you,” he said, raising his glass looking boldly into my eyes.
My heart thudded.
“Cheers,” I said simply clinking our glasses.
I didn’t know what else to say.
He smirked at my reaction. It was clear, very clear, he enjoyed my nervousness.
We studied the menu, quietly for a few minutes.
We gave our order to the waiter who had a slight French accent.
When he left with our order, I wanted to run.
&nbs
p; James looked fixedly at me as if he could see everything. He was waiting for me to start a conversation, but damn it! My brain wasn’t cooperating.
He sighed, amused.
“Tell me Jen, how are preparations for tomorrow's dinner at Holly's?”
“Well,” my lips quirked in a smile as I remembered our meeting at the supermarket. My curiosity drifted to the light like the traitor it was.
“And you? Will you have dinner with your family tomorrow?”
“I thought you'd never ask,” he smiled wickedly. “Yes, I will have dinner with my family tomorrow. I have many things to be thankful for this year.”
I sipped my wine.
Actually, I wanted to gulp down the entire bottle to see if it would calm my damn nerves.
James's cell phone rang.
“Sorry,” I have to answer this, he said, smiling. “Hi dear. Yes. Are you going to bed now? Perfect ... I'll see you tomorrow. I love you.”
He hung up the call.
“By your face, I imagine you're dying of curiosity to know who I was talking to,” he said. I blushed with embarrassment.
How could I have been so careless? I had to work harder on hiding my curiosity.
“I told you last time, James. I don’t want to know more than is just or necessary about you.”
“Why?”
“When you start telling things about yourself, relationships tend to get complicated.”
“No. If you were clear that our relationship will only be occasional, it would not affect you if I tell you aspects of my personal life or you speak of yours.”
I felt like I had been doused with a bucket of cold water.
It was the truth. If I was clear about being casual friends, it wouldn’t affect anything. Right? That was the point of the whole affair with James. I was neither clear nor sure of anything.
“So, I'd like to tell you why I told you my life is a bit complicated.”
I sighed in defeat and to my surprise, my nerves disappeared.
“As you know, I'm a handsome and charming man.” He winked at me, and my mind blanked at the comment. “However, despite all of the wonderful qualities I possess, I have done quite badly in love. Don’t think that only women suffer from disasters. No. Men, too.”
I smiled, James said everything so elegantly.
The waiter brought the food.
“As I was saying,” he went on after tasting his food. “I've spent my life from bed to bed, looking for the perfect woman. Before the age of 35, I didn’t think it was an urgent matter to find her. But, once you get close to 40 and realize you are still alone despite wanting to have a beautiful family, you start thinking, maybe, love isn’t for you.”