He shoveled the pancakes into her mouth, watching her, as always, making sure she chewed and swallowed, monitoring every agonizing bite.
Yet another thing she’d come to dread.
He looked at her and asked her why wasn’t she happy, which prompted her to immediately slap on a smile. Any hint of despondency would unleash a tirade about how ungrateful she was to him for saving her from her horrible, empty, unhappy life. And indeed, that was how he saw himself, as her knight in shining armor, slaying dragons, real and imagined, to protect her from the evils of the world.
He held up another forkful of pancakes and started chattering away about what they would do today. This was usually her cue to tune him out, to let her mind float back to a time when she could do whatever she wanted.
Chapter 12
SHE
“You nervous?”
“No,” Natalie said.
Jason gave her a knowing sideways glance. “No?”
“Okay, maybe a little.”
He laughed as he maneuvered his shiny cobalt blue BMW into a space on Sheridan Road just vacated by a dusty green Jetta.
“Why are you nervous?”
“I mean these girls are . . . tough.”
He turned the car off and they got out. “Well, see, what I didn’t tell you was, ever since you told me about us all getting together, I started training.”
“Let me guess,” she said, laughing. “You ran up the steps of the Art Institute and did your best Rocky imitation.”
“Nah, not enough stairs,” he said as he threw out mock jabs, bobbing and weaving around her. “You liked Rocky didn’t you? Tell the truth.”
“I told you, I loved it. Way more than I thought I would.”
“See? I know what I’m talking about,” he said, ducking around her again.
She grabbed at his waist and pulled him to her. “You’re crazy,” she breathed, holding tight to him.
“True. So remind me again. Christine is the Latina?” he said, giving her a quick kiss before digging into his pocket for his wallet and a credit card to feed the parking meter.
“Right. From Little Village by way of Mexico when she was, like, five. Who now lives in a phat Old Town condo and wears so much Armani she probably has stock.”
“Damn. Maybe I should have gone into hedge funds after all.”
Natalie laughed. “Yeah, but as she’ll tell you, she’s just a girl from the neighborhood.”
“And Brandy’s the blonde? Kinda cranky you said.”
“Yeah. That’s an understatement. Brandy and I interned together, and she and Christine used to be in the same summer volleyball league a million years ago, which, if you know Christine, is kind of funny. Anyway, a big group of us met up for drinks one night and we turned out to be the last girls standing, and we just kind of clicked.”
“What, you didn’t go running up and down the beach in the summer chasing after a ball?”
“Hi, have we met?”
He laughed and gave her a quick peck on the cheek as they hurried down the sidewalk to deposit the ticket inside the car before heading to Duffy’s a half block away, where Natalie would be introducing Jason to her girlfriends for the first time. He held the door open for her as she searched the typically crowded bar for her friends. Christine shot her hand up in the air and waved them over. Natalie tried to breathe her jitters away as she walked toward the table where Christine, her fiancé, Brian, Brandy, and her latest fling were wedged around sweaty glasses of beer, wine, and cocktails.
“Hey, chica.” Christine smiled and gave Natalie a hug while Brandy did the same.
“Hey, everyone, this is Jason—Jason, everyone.”
As she expected, Jason was quick with handshakes and smiles as introductions went around the table. They all settled in for drinks and dinner and as the alcohol and conversation flowed, Natalie felt her shoulders loosen and her breath slow. Jason would give her knee a few reassuring squeezes and sideways smiles when no one was looking. He smoothly fielded the interminable, probing questions lobbed his way, displaying the charm, authenticity, and good humor that had woven around her from the minute they finished their cheesecake at Tavern at the Park. She could see from the impressed glances that passed between Brandy and Christine, he had their seal of approval as well. Eventually, the three guys got into a spirited conversation about some football game, while Natalie and her girlfriends engaged in innocuous gossip about work and mutual friends. She was unable to take her eyes off of Jason, though—pride, happiness, and relief coursed through her at the sight of her friends and the man she was completely out of her head for getting along so well. The few guys she’d brought around the girls had either elicited lukewarm observation (“He’s okay . . . doesn’t seem like your type, though,”) or vehement disapproval (“Seriously? Well . . . at least you’re not sleeping with him. Are you?”).
Brandy tapped her on the shoulder. “Let me out so I can go to the bathroom.”
“Actually, sweetie, I’ll go with you,” Christine said, already standing and grabbing Natalie’s hand. “Come on, ‘cause you know we all have to go together.”
Brian laughed and nodded in Jason’s direction. “Well, man you’re about to get the bathroom test.”
Jason winked at Natalie. “Hope I pass.”
“Hey, querida,” Brian called out to his fiancé. “Go easy on him. We like him.”
Christine winked and Natalie smiled at Jason as she allowed herself to be pulled off to the ladies room.
“Okay, you didn’t tell us how hot he was.” Brandy swatted Natalie on the shoulder as soon as they were alone.
“I told you he was cute.”
“Okay, cute yeah, but not ‘dayum he’s fine!’” Brandy screamed as she and Christine fell into laughter.
“Honey, he’d better be your plus one at the wedding,” Christine said.
“Jeez, you bitches move fast,” Natalie scoffed. “We’ve barely started dating. I don’t want to freak him out by bringing him to a wedding. He might think I have ideas.”
“Oh, get over yourself,” Christine said. “The wedding would just be like another date.”
“Seriously, cheapest date ever,” Brandy said. “Someone else pays for the dinner and booze, and then he gets laid at the end of the night.”
Christine burst out laughing and Natalie rolled her eyes. “You’re gross.”
“Oh please, honey, it is way past time for someone to come along with a bolt cutter and take off that padlock. I mean, he looks pretty cut. I bet he won’t have any trouble getting that thing off.”
Natalie dropped her face in her hands as Christine and Brandy both howled, their shrieks bouncing off the bathroom walls. “Would you shut up?”
“Come on, chica, we’re just happy for you, that’s all. He’s awesome. We approve.”
“Yeah, we’re just busting your balls. Seriously,” Brandy said.
“I’m gonna bust something over your head,” Natalie said.
“Okay, okay, all jokes aside, so you like this guy,” Christine said.
“I do. He’s sweet and funny and smart, interesting and . . . and . . . nice.”
“Well, girl, hang onto him then, because those guys only come around once in a while. So I’ve been told,” Brandy said.
“I’ll see what I can do,” Natalie said as she reapplied her lipstick and ran a swipe of powder across her nose.
They rejoined the table and the rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter and an abundance of side conversations among everyone. As Saturday tiptoed into Sunday, the group’s enthusiasm began to wane as yawns started to chime around the table like bells.
Everyone trooped out into the hot, humid night, where Natalie, Brandy, and Christine promised to meet midweek for dinner while the guys did what Christine called “the bro handshake thing.” On their way back to the car, Jason grabbed Natalie’s hand and kissed it.
“So . . . how’d I do?”
“I don’t know what you put in those girls
’ cocktails, but they were all about you.”
“Oh yeah?” he said as he unlocked the car and opened her door.
She waited until he slid into the driver’s seat, smiling as he enveloped her hand in his once again. “Well, no surprise, they thought you were hot and just now when I hugged Christine . . . she whispered ‘good job.’”
Out of the corner of her eye, Natalie could see a broad smile stretch across Jason’s face, which made her heart leap. It mattered to him what her friends thought of him. Because it was important to her.
“I told you that you didn’t have anything to worry about.”
“I know.”
He headed toward Lake Shore Drive and kissed her hand. “See? You just need to trust me.”
“Just play along for a little while. . .”
Man, you got that bitch eating out of your hand. You said she’s smiling and whatnot during your sessions? Yeah, I’m telling you, it’s a matter of time before they spring your ass. And that was good, letting them do that electroshock therapy on you. That was a nice touch. Really make them think you’re serious. I mean, it was a risk, ’cause, you know, you could have wound up with that, what is it, amnesia or something, make you forget every damn thing, and you don’t want that.
“Now, when you get out of here, they gonna make you sign all these papers and give you all these referrals and instructions and whatnot. Bump all that. Just like before, you tell them whatever it is they want to hear. I mean, it will be kind of hard ’cause you got to go home with your folks, but what they gonna do? They can’t keep you locked up at home. I mean, you ain’t got one of them uh, uh, uh, ankle monitors or nothing on you. So, you know, just play along for a little while, be real, what they call it, contrite. Humble and all that shit.”
Flynn could be running the place, he knew so much about how to get over. He was shocked to learn that Flynn was in voluntarily. Not like him. They’d forced him to come here after that night, said that was the best place for him. Said he was mentally ill. Said jail was no place for him.
That last part was true enough. Though being in here, away from her, was like a prison.
But he’d be free soon. Sort of. He still had to contend with his parents and them watching him. Still, it would give him the time he needed to prepare himself. He’d fool them into thinking he had a whole new lease on life or something like that. That he was making positive changes for the better. Yeah, he could spew whatever he had to in order to make them think he was “cured.”
The most important thing was the transformation. He was already the man he knew she needed. Now, he just had to become the man he knew she wanted.
And that would take time.
Chapter 13
SHE
“Open wide.”
They both tried to keep straight faces as he held a lumpy chocolate truffle to her lips.
“You really want me to eat that?” she asked.
“I mean, yeah, it looks ridiculous, but it’s good. Promise.”
Keeping her eyes locked on his, Natalie let her mouth drop open a little as Jason poked the truffle inside. A little ribbon of Grand Marnier dribbled out of one corner as she bit down, and they both laughed as he dabbed her mouth with a napkin. She plunked her hand into her chin and studied him.
“You’re really full of surprises.”
“That’s a bad thing?”
“You know, I’m learning that it isn’t,” she said. “I have to ask, though. How on earth did you come up with a chocolate-making class of all things?”
“You’re gonna laugh,” he chuckled as he licked a smear of chocolate from his thumb.
“Try me.”
“It was my brother-in-law.”
“What?”
“So, I guess my sister put him on notice that he gives terrible gifts. Like, really bad. Even I was like, man, you’ve got to do better and go further. I’m talking socks, waffle makers, shit like that.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah, so anyway, I had called him about these Cubs tickets for next season, and he’s like, ‘sorry I missed your call, we were making chocolate last night.’ Honestly, I laughed at first. Then I thought about it and was like, you know, that’s not half bad.” He leaned over with another truffle for her to sample. “You had fun tonight. I could tell. You keep loosening up more and more.”
“Am I really that uptight?”
“A little.”
“Well, thank you for furthering my loosening up education,” she said, leaning over to kiss him. “And yes, the class was so much fun. I absolutely loved it.”
“I love you.”
“Huh?”
“You heard me. I said I love you.”
It was too much; she burst into tears. Words she never thought she would hear from a man. Words she fantasized hearing from this man. Here. Now.
A sliver of snot escaped from her nose, and she frantically tried to sop it up with the heels of her hands. “Oh my God. . . I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”
He handed her a bunch of paper towels from the kitchen. “I didn’t think I’d get this reaction.”
She dabbed her eyes and blew her nose. “Do you know you’re like the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Ever? I never in a million years. . .” she shook her head.
“I’ve been wanting to say it for a while—okay, day one if I’m being honest, but I just—” he shrugged. “I mean, I can’t say it any simpler than that. I love you. So much. You have no idea.”
“Me too,” she whispered.
He laughed. “Is this gonna be like a Patrick Swayze thing where she says ‘I love you’ and he says ‘ditto,’ but you never actually say it?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Wow. Yet another movie to add to the pile.”
“I love you. Love, love, love,” she said, blotting her eyes again and laughing.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about, Scotty,” he winked. “Come on. Let’s have a little more wine, a little chocolate, and then I’m gonna head home.”
“You don’t have to. What I mean is . . . stay.”
“Baby,” he whispered. “Tomorrow is Thursday and the first time I make love to you, I’m not gonna let something like having to get up and go to work stop me.”
Natalie melted . . . just like the chocolate.
Chapter 14
HE
He stood on the sidewalk staring up at the windows of her building.
Her departure for the steel and glass of this high-rise building from the wooden quaintness of her last apartment had saddened and angered him. There, he’d been able to be close to her, watch her, learn her secrets, perfect the—at that time—hazy details of his plan.
She was living in a ramshackle three-flat in Wrigleyville, one of those rambling old buildings outfitted with a sprawling maze of rooms, cracking pink bathroom tiles, squealing wooden floors, and back doors that with the rise in summer’s humidity were forever swelling against their weak, helpless frames. It was one of those buildings where “location” not “luxury” was the major selling point, given its proximity to the vine-covered brick of Wrigley Field, abundant public transportation, and equal measure of trendy boutiques and bars awash in beer and the crackle of broken peanut shells beneath your feet seven nights a week.
Like most people, she was an extreme creature of habit. She woke up at five and every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, went for a run before spooning gloppy strawberry yogurt into her mouth as she scurried to catch the Red Line at Addison a few blocks away. She was usually in the office every morning by eight and more often than not hurrying into a cab once it got past eight in the evening. A lot of times, she went to events related to her job: parties, receptions, dinners. Sometimes, she would come straight back to the office afterward. Sometimes, she went out after work with co-workers, which allowed him to slink unnoticed into a dark corner of a bar and just watch her. She spent at least one day of the weekend working and, without fail, when she was done, she went out
with those two girls she liked to hang around with.
And every day, he was there, sitting on the bus-stop bench waiting for a bus he would never board. All so he could watch and learn.
Until one day, it had no longer been enough. He needed to get closer. Needed to feel her. Needed more.
Getting in had almost been a joke. An air conditioner hung over the ledge of her bedroom window, which was near the back stairs. He’d been able to kick it in, wincing a bit as it crashed against the floor, comforted only by the fact that he knew the neighbors were at work, saving him from the worry of some hysterical female creeping up the stairs to swing a bat at his head or the cops storming in to interrupt him.
Standing in her bedroom had sent chills through him. Initially, all he could do was stand there, turning around over and over, soaking in the details of her room like a blind man who’d finally been granted sight, the smile he’d been holding in for so long finally bursting forth. He went to her dresser to fondle each bottle of perfume, jealous of the droplets sliding down her skin, nestling into the sweet, hidden crevices. Opening her dresser drawers had been an equally heady experience, particularly when he came to her underwear. He wept as his fingers swept across those fine threads, his face buried into the pile he’d lifted out with his hands, the shards of lace dripping from his fingers. It was the most delicious smell in the world to him. He waded into her closet, letting her clothes drape across him, luxuriating in the feel of the silks, cottons, and wools beneath his fingers, once again allowing his imagination to run away with him as he thought about the hem of a dress sliding down her breasts as it dropped from her head and down to her legs, of pants, jeans, and summertime shorts hugging her thighs and crotch.
He continued his journey across her apartment, impressed with how neat she was: no teetering towers of magazines or stacks of mail ready to cascade from a counter or coffee table, no overflowing wastebaskets impatient to be relieved of their burden. Even the peeling linoleum countertops were free of crumbs and sticky juice rings. Her refrigerator was stocked with strawberry yogurt, bottled water, and enough Lean Cuisines to supply a supermarket.
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