Perfect on Paper: The (Mis)Adventures of Waverly Bryson

by Maria Murnane

  “Actually, another cappuccino would be great, thanks. And hey, do you know anything about the weather situation? I mean, are all the flights definitely grounded?” I found myself whispering even though Jake was about three miles away from me.

  He nodded and smiled sympathetically. “Yes, miss, all the airports are closed. Many of our weekend guests have already made arrangements to stay another night. The reception desk can help you with that if you need assistance.”

  Yeah, like I wanted to go anywhere near that reception desk. “Thank you. I’ll look into that after breakfast,” I said.

  I looked back over at Jake and didn’t see any luggage. Damn it. Were they making plans to stay another night? Was I really trapped in the hotel with them?

  I continued to spy like some sort of government agent from the Department of Totally Lame People. Jake turned around briefly, but I quickly pulled the newspaper up to cover my face. I didn’t know if it was because of the way I’d acted the night before or the way I’d acted at the Super Show, but I just didn’t want to see the third act.

  After a few more minutes I peeked over the newspaper. Jake was gone.

  Hmm, what to do? I couldn’t hide behind the paper all day long. I looked at my watch. It was eleven, and the Super Bowl party didn’t start until five thirty. I looked back down at my phone and thought about who I knew in New York besides Cynthia. Uh, that would be no one. So I decided to call Kristina.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Kristina, it’s Waverly.”

  “Hey, you. How was the wedding?”

  “Extravagant, to say the least. I think I gained five pounds on the appetizers alone. But my hair still looks great. Hey, by any chance are you free today?”

  “What’s up?”

  “I’m snowed in and could use a playmate.”

  “Actually, I am. And that sounds great.”

  It turned out that she had the whole day off, so we decided to go to the movies to escape the snowstorm before heading over to the party. Somehow, she made it through the blizzard and picked me up in a cab, and we spent the afternoon eating popcorn, drinking Diet Coke, and watching a sappy romantic comedy that made us both cry at the end. How is it that romantic comedies are SO predictable yet still suck me in every time?

  After the movie, we headed over to Blondie’s Sports, an Upper West Side bar that Cynthia and Dale had rented out for the party. Despite my fear of running into Jake again, I was actually looking forward to it just so I could say hi to Cynthia, which I hadn’t done at the wedding. With ten thousand guests, it’s a little challenging to get any QT with the bride.

  “All these people were at the wedding last night?” I said as we took off our coats. The place was packed.

  “You tell me. You’re the one who went,” Kristina said.

  “Then how come I couldn’t pick any of them out of a lineup? I mean I know there were a lot of people there, but you’d think I’d recognize someone.”

  “You don’t recognize anyone?”

  “Not a one. Seriously, Kristina, sometimes I think the short-term memory part of my brain never fully developed, sort of like some other parts of me.” I pointed to my chest.

  She laughed and put her hand on my arm. “What do you want to drink? Let’s try to grab a table.”

  The humiliation gods had mercy on me. In other words, Jake didn’t go to the party. Or at least I didn’t see him there, which was good enough for me. Kristina and I had a great time enjoying the food, the beer, the crowd, and the conversation. Oh, and I almost forgot the most important thing we enjoyed: the commercials!

  After the game, I finally got a chance to say hello to Cynthia.

  “Do you know how long I had to wait in line just to talk to you?” I said as I gave her a hug. “You’re like Reese Witherspoon at a movie premiere, and I’m some Podunk newspaper reporter trying to get an interview.”

  She brushed a few strands of strawberry blonde hair out of her eyes. “I know, I’m so sorry. It’s been crazy with all these people here. Did you have fun at the wedding?”

  “Yes, of course! It was perfect. And you were stunning. You’re still glowing! Thank you so much for setting me up with everything. I had a great time.”

  She smiled and squeezed my hands. “I’m so glad to hear that. You know you could have brought a date, right?”

  “Yes, and thanks, but really, there’s no one I wanted to bring. And my table was a riot. Did you know that a paisley bedspread or an ill-timed pair of socks could kill a potential romance?”

  “Huh?”

  Just then Dale pulled her arm to introduce her to a friend of his, and I decided to slip away quietly. I could fill her in on all I’d learned about dating disqualifiers when she got back from her honeymoon.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  A couple weeks after the Super Bowl, my phone rang just as I was about to leave the office to get my cast off. The number on the display looked familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it.

  “Waverly Bryson,” I said.

  “Hi, Waverly.”

  I definitely had no trouble placing the voice, which somehow managed to kick me in the stomach through the phone line. Or at least that’s how it felt when I heard it.

  I quickly sat back down in my chair. “Aaron,” I said softly.

  “How are you?”

  “I, I’m doing okay. How are you?”

  “I’m good,” he said.

  “Good.”

  “I hear you broke your ankle. Are you okay?”

  “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. I’m getting the cast off in about a half-hour, actually,” I said. How did he know about my ankle?

  “That’s good to hear,” he said.

  “Thanks.”

  “Um, so listen, I was wondering if you and I could get together later for a drink? I’d like to talk to you about something,” he said.

  He wanted to talk to me about something?

  What did he want to talk to me about? It couldn’t be to apologize for not telling me about the wedding, right? Too much time had passed for that, and he’d already sort of apologized at the Marina Safeway, right?

  Did he … did he miss me? Did he want to get back together? Had his marriage been a mistake?

  This was quite unexpected.

  “Waverly? Are you still there?” he said.

  “Oh, yeah, sorry, I spaced out a bit. I’m still here.”

  “So are you free tonight?”

  I was, but he didn’t have to know that, right?

  “Actually, I have plans tonight,” I said. Plans to obsess over why he wanted to see me.

  “Oh, okay, well how about tomorrow night?”

  I bit my lip. Tomorrow night. Tomorrow night.

  I just sat there, not saying anything.

  “Waverly?”

  I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

  “Waverly, are you still there?”

  I bit my lip even harder.

  “Okay, that should work,” I finally said.

  “Cool. Where is good for you?”

  I put my hand over my eyes. “Um, how about the Kilkenny at seven thirty?”

  “Great, I’ll see you there. Bye, Waverly.”

  “Bye, Aaron.”

  I put down the phone and stared at it, already mentally trying on everything in my closet.

  “Hey, Waverly? You got a sec?”

  I looked up and saw Mandy standing in my office door.

  “Um, sure, what’s up?”

  She smiled. “I just wanted to ask you a couple questions about how you run the JAG account. I thought it might help me get things rolling faster on Adina Energy. Do you mind?”

  Did I mind? She wanted me to tell her how to do the job she stole from me? Was she crazy?

  I stood up and pointed to my cast. “Actually, I’ve got to head to the doctor right now. Maybe some other time?”

  She smiled even wider. “Okay, sure, some other time. Everything’s already going great with my account team, but, well, you kno
w, this is such a high-profile client that I just thought it might be nice to chat and get your perspective on things.”

  “Okay.” I nodded and grabbed my purse. We’ll do that right after I send Brad Cantor an Evite to my Figure Skating on a Frozen Hell theme party.

  “So you really think he wants you back?” McKenna said on the phone later that night. “Even though he just got married?”

  I lay down on my bed and looked up at the ceiling. “I know, I know, but maybe, don’t you think? I mean, why else would he want to talk to me in person?”

  “Do you want to get back together with him?” she said.

  I closed my eyes. “I don’t know.”

  “Do you still love him?”

  I paused.

  “I don’t know. I mean, I did, but …” My voice trailed off.

  “But what?”

  “But I wonder if I really knew him, you know? I wonder if I even knew myself when we were together. I wonder if I even know myself now.”

  She laughed. “It sounds like you’re finally starting to listen to me.”

  I sat up. “Seriously, Mackie, part of me thinks that I was just so happy that someone so perfect wanted me that I didn’t really focus on what I wanted, you know? And that probably didn’t make me all that stimulating to be around.”

  “Waverly, give yourself some credit. You’re great to be around. And no one is perfect, not even Aaron.”

  “Thanks,” I said. “But you know what I mean. And now I really wonder, you know? I think I was sort of a chameleon with Aaron, molding my life around what he wanted, not what I wanted.”

  “And what do you want?” she said.

  I bit my lip. “I hope I know when I find it.”

  At seven forty the next night, I walked into the Kilkenny and held my breath. I looked around and saw Aaron sitting at the bar, waiting for me with a Newcastle in front of him. It was like I had gone back in time. Jack O’Reilly was probably checking the year on his calendar.

  I walked up and tapped Aaron on the shoulder. “Hey, you,” I said.

  “Hey, you, too,” he said, standing up and giving me a bear hug. “What can I get you to drink?”

  I was surprised at how nervous I suddenly was. “Um, a Blue Moon with lemon is fine,” I said.

  “One Blue Moon with lemon for the lady here,” Aaron said to Jack.

  “Here you are, love,” Jack said a few seconds later, raising his eyebrows as he set the drink in front of me.

  “Don’t ask,” I whispered, as I picked up the glass and turned to follow Aaron.

  We walked across the bar to a table in the back. “Well,” I said as I took off my coat and sat down across from him. “Here we are.”

  “Here we are,” he said. “You look great.”

  I smiled. “Thanks. I’ve been working out a ton.”

  “Really?”

  I laughed. “Of course not. You look good, too.” And damn it, he really did.

  He pointed at my leg. “So, no more cast?”

  “Cast-free as of yesterday,” I said, raising both arms in the air.

  “That’s good to hear.”

  “Yeah it is, uh, thanks,” I said, suddenly at a loss for conversation at the sight of the ring on his left hand.

  “So, how are you? How’s work?” he said.

  I shrugged. “It’s all right.”

  “You still hate it there, don’t you?” he said.

  I narrowed my eyes. “Hate it? Why do you say that?” I’d never told him I hated my job. I’d never told anyone that. Did I hate my job?

  “Just a feeling I always had.” He looked around the bar. “It’s sort of strange, coming in here together again, don’t you think?”

  I nodded. “Habit, I guess. I probably should have suggested another place.”

  “No, it’s fine. It’s just a bit familiar and unfamiliar at the same time, you know?”

  I knew. “Uh huh.”

  When was he going to get to the point?

  I bit my lip and then the bullet. “So what’s up? You said you wanted to talk to me about something?”

  He took a sip of his beer. “Um, yeah, well I, uh, I know this is long overdue, but I just wanted to apologize for not calling you to tell you that I was getting married.”

  That was the big news?

  I looked at the floor. “Oh, that’s okay,” I said.

  He shook his head. “No, it’s not. I should have told you. And running into you like that, and, well, seeing you again, well, it’s just that, well, I have something else I need to tell you.”

  “You do?” I said, raising my eyes to meet his.

  He nodded, then took my hands in his and squeezed them.

  I closed my eyes.

  Oh my God.

  This was it. But how did I feel? What would I say? The thoughts in my head were like bumper cars.

  I opened my eyes, but he didn’t say anything.

  I kept looking at him.

  “Well?” I finally said.

  He took a deep breath. “Stacy and I are having a baby.”

  Stacy and I are having a baby?

  “What?” I let go of his hands.

  He smiled. “I’m going to be a father.”

  “But you just got married!”

  “I know, but this is something we both really want.”

  Something we both really want. We know and understand each other. We are perfect for each other. We also have lots and lots of sex.

  “Why are you telling me this?” I said, suddenly feeling the tears that were about to make an inconvenient appearance.

  “Because I didn’t want you to hear it somewhere else this time.”

  “Oh, um … then … congratulations,” I said softly, looking at the ground. I wasn’t exactly happy for him, but he was obviously thrilled.

  I looked back up at him. He was smiling, and the look in his eyes was something I’d never seen when he looked at me.

  Ever.

  The look in his eyes was … melty. Aaron’s wife and new life made him feel … melty.

  “Thanks,” he said. “I know you might not believe it, but hearing that from you really means a lot to me.”

  We both stared at our drinks, him not wanting to shower me with more details, me not wanting to ask for them. He was clearly trying to do right by me. Why was he so nice? It made everything so grey. Another thing to add to my grown-up list: You know you’re a real grown-up when nothing but Oreos is black and white.

  After a long silence, he picked up his beer and took a sip. “So, um, how’s your dad doing?”

  I looked back at the floor. “He’s okay, the same, I guess.”

  “He called me, you know.”

  I looked up at him. “What?”

  “A couple weeks ago. That’s how I heard about your ankle.”

  “He didn’t ask you for money, did he?”

  He shook his head. “He called me to see how you were doing.”

  My dad had called Aaron to ask him about me? But my dad didn’t even like Aaron. My dad didn’t even really like me.

  I stood up and pushed my hair behind my ears. “Wait a minute. You called me out of pity because my father thinks I’m a mess? Is that what this is about?”

  He seemed startled. “No, no, I just thought you should know about the baby. That’s all. It’s not pity.”

  “Because I’m doing fine,” I said. “Really, I’m fine.” Ha.

  “Waverly, I never thought that you weren’t.” He held my gaze when he said it. “Never.”

  “Really?” I said.

  “Really.”

  “One hundred percent really or only ninety-nine percent really?” I said.

  He laughed and was about to speak, but just then his phone rang.

  And I knew who it was.

  His hall pass was over. And so were we.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The very next day, fresh from a two-hour cry session on the phone with McKenna, I started working on my own baby. I finally s
ent sample Honey Notes to a handful of publishers, and I couldn’t believe how good it felt to do it. The thought of seeing something I created all on my own come to life made me feel like, well, like a proud mother. A proud, mini-van-free, sleep-deprivation-free mother.

  After I submitted them, I kept writing new cards, using our department meetings as solid doodle time and as a way to keep from listening to Mandy Edwards, who was clearly having a ball running the Adina Energy account, given her glowing status reports. She hadn’t come back to me again to gloat or steal my ideas, so at least I didn’t have to deal with her outside of the weekly meetings.

  Fortunately (or unfortunately), the material for the cards kept on coming, doing little to change my opinion that when it came to dating, I was in a class all by myself and might not ever graduate.

  One Thursday night, I met a cute boy at the Kilkenny. His name was Pierce, and at first I thought he was super sweet and totally normal. He was six foot one with light brown hair, blue eyes, and a great smile. He worked in investment banking, had gone to Princeton and then Stanford Business School, played rugby on the weekends, and had a sarcastic sense of humor. We didn’t talk for very long, but when he asked for my phone number, I was more than happy to give it to him. Yahoo!

  Our first date was all good. He took me to a quaint Italian restaurant in North Beach late on a Monday night, and over pasta and wine we shared stories about our jobs, our hobbies, our friends. We covered all the bases, and I made it through the entire night without any red flags flying through the air or without having to tell him about my engagement or my childhood. At first I wasn’t sure if I was physically attracted to him, but I enjoyed his company, and when he dropped me off at midnight, he said goodbye with a soft kiss on the mouth that definitely piqued my interest. It had been so long since I’d had a kiss on the mouth, much less a kiss like that!

  Get that press release ready, I was back in the game!

  But then my team started to lose.

  Fast.

  The next morning I got to the office at eight thirty. I was a little sleep-deprived, but it was a good sleep deprivation—you know, the kind that doesn’t bother you too much because you were up late on a date, not because you were up late watching TV by yourself.