by J B Glazer
“His prognosis is good.”
“James, so are you. You’re one of the good ones.”
He shrugs. “No kid should have to watch their parent get sick. It was something I could do to help. Why do you say it like you’re surprised?”
I shrug.
“It’s because of that guy, isn’t it? Your bad breakup?”
“I guess so.”
“Not everyone is like him. I hope you realize that. Haven’t you ever heard the phrase ‘don’t let one bad apple spoil the bunch’?”
Of course, he had to bring up apples.
“I have. And I’m not. To be honest I used to have that outlook, but I’m making progress.”
“Good,” he says. And we leave it at that.
James makes no mention of dancing. He makes no advances or attempts at physical contact. He keeps things light and never implies we’re on a date, which we’re not.
Things go smoothly the rest of the night. James had to intervene once when he caught someone trying to spike the punch. But aside from that it was an uneventful evening.
“What did you think of your first prom?”
“It was fun.” And it was. Being with James is fun.
“Told you it wouldn’t be so bad. Sometimes you need to give things a chance before you pass judgement.”
I’m not sure if he’s still talking about prom. But I answer him as though he is.
“It’s funny because in high school I’d have done anything to avoid going to these sorts of dances. Now I attend events and parties all the time. It’s ironic that I’m the one planning them.”
“As you said, progress.”
That’s me, a work in progress.
We help clean up and James offers to take me out for a milkshake.
“I’d love one, but I didn’t get my steps in today.”
“Got it, you have a figure to maintain. How about a compromise? We can go for Fro Yo.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal.”
James got a ride to the school with a co-worker, so I drive us to a yogurt place back in the city. After sampling some flavors we decide to share a cake batter flavored shake. It’s delicious. I mean, how can a shake not be? But the thing about frozen yogurt is, it just doesn’t compare to ice cream.
Chapter 24
James and I have hung out on a number of occasions, strictly as friends. At first I didn’t believe his intentions were honorable, but he’s made no advances whatsoever. I’m definitely more comfortable around him the more I get to know him. He’s really personable and funny—the kind of guy I can see making anyone feel comfortable. But it’s all genuine. I can see why his students love him. Tonight I’m going over to his place to help him make dinner. He has family coming in town over the weekend and his plan is to get everything prepped in advance so all he has to do is throw everything in the oven.
I call him on my way home from work.
“Do you need me to pick up anything on the way over?”
“I don’t think so. I’ve got the chicken, vegetables, and everything on the ingredient list.”
“OK. Good. What about aluminum foil? Do you have something to wrap it up in?”
“I have Tupperware,” he says proudly.
“Umm, OK. I think my grandma had Tupperware.”
“Make fun all you want. It’s gonna be right up your alley.”
I laugh and say, “See you at seven.”
I arrive right on time and he’s got everything set up on his counter. We’re about to get to work on the chicken so I look in his drawers for a sharp knife.
“Where do you keep the knives?”
“In here,” he says, pulling open a drawer.
“These are butter knives. What about a steak knife?”
He looks at me blankly.
“Something sharp to cut the chicken.”
He smacks his forehead.
“Shit. I guess I could ask a neighbor. How would that sound? It’s not exactly like asking to borrow a cup of sugar, is it?”
“We could run to the store,” I suggest.
“Do they sell those around here?”
“I’m sure they do.”
There’s a Target nearby. I check the website and they do indeed sell steak knives.
“Looks like we’re making a Target run,” I tell him.
“Sorry about this, Lucy. I can go on my own. I’m sure you have better things to do.”
“And let you pick them out on your own? No chance. You’ll need help.”
He laughs. “They’re just knives. I think I can handle it.”
“The website featured twenty-four different search results.”
“Oh. OK, then. A Target run it is.”
I figure I can pick up some other things I need as long as we’re there. The walk takes us about ten minutes. We find the kitchen section and look at our choices.
“Who knew there were so many different features?” he asks. As we look around I muse this must be what it’s like for a couple registering. We discuss the options and narrow them down to a few choices. James makes his selection and I ask if he minds if I pick up a few things. He says not at all and waits for me downstairs. As we head back to his place he jokes that he’s never felt safer than at this moment. I laugh.
“If only you knew how to use them.”
For that comment he playfully elbows me. I’m about to give it right back to him but he dodges my attempt.
“Hey! No fair.”
“You forget I train high school students. I know every trick in the book.”
It’s just before nine by the time we make it back to his place.
“Sorry about tonight. I’ll just get everything ready after work tomorrow. It’s kind of late to get started now.”
“No problem. It was fun.” And it was. I always have fun when I’m with James. “You know what? I can come over tomorrow and help you.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. I’ll come over right after work.”
“I owe you, Lucy. I’ll walk you to your car.”
He watches me until I pull out of my parking space then gives a wave. He really is one of the good ones.
The next day I show up at his place after work as promised. Again, it was easy for me to find a parking space. Someone was leaving right as I was pulling up. I try not to think about that sign. We’re just friends. We prep the chicken and then the vegetables. Once everything is ready James pulls out his Tupperware. There are containers with matching lids in all different shapes and sizes. I think I may have a tiny O. This is not your run of the mill food storage system. It’s a dream—my dream. James laughs when I tell him so.
“See, told you. Right up your alley.”
“You know me so well.”
“I do,” he says, more serious this time.
I swallow the lump that’s formed in my throat and say I should get going. That moment we just had could change things and I’m eager to leave.
“That’s fine, I was about to go for a run anyway.”
I get in my car and start driving home. That’s when I realize I left my day planner on his hall console. I call him but he doesn’t answer. I cannot go home without my planner. I head back toward his place and grab the first parking spot I find. I ring his bell but he’s not back yet. To kill some time I head to a coffee shop nearby and do some work. After about thirty minutes I try again. This time he answers the door. He’s wearing a tank and running shorts and his body is covered in a sheen of sweat. His hair is pulled back in a bandana. It’s getting longer now and he runs a hand through it, revealing some very large biceps. I never realized he was so fit.
“Lucy, you’re back.”
It takes me a minute to find my voice. “I left my planner here. It’s on your hall table. I tried calling you, but must’ve just missed you.”
“Sorry, I didn’t bring my phone. I like being disconnected when I run. I’ll go grab it for you.”
He comes back and hands me the planne
r. He has a thin line of sweat running across his chest, which accentuates his nice pecs. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised considering he coaches baseball. Probably works out with the team too.
“Thanks, James.”
“No problem. Do you want me to walk you to your car?”
“That’s OK. I’m just up the street and it’s not dark yet.”
He closes the door and I’m still standing on his doorstep. I take a deep breath and knock again.
This time when he opens it he’s not wearing a shirt. I stare at his muscular chest and the six-pack that is his stomach. Wow.
“Forget something else?”
“Sorry, I can see you’re about to get in the shower.” I’m suddenly nervous.
“No problem.” My eyes drift to the happy trail just below his abdomen, leading down to the waistband of his shorts, then disappears. “Lucy?”
“Hmm.” Oh my God, I’ve been staring at him.
He’s looking at me with an amused expression.
“James?”
“Yes?”
“I’m done being friends.”
The smile he gives me warms my insides and pushes away any doubts. He pulls me inside and kisses me. It’s a really nice kiss.
But that night when I close my eyes before I fall asleep, it’s not his face I see.
Chapter 25
James and I are taking things slow. He’s the most patient man I’ve ever met. We kiss a lot, among other things, but I haven’t been ready to take things further. I don’t know why. It’s a Tuesday afternoon and Trish calls just as I’m stepping out to grab lunch.
“Lucy, I won the lottery!”
“What?” I stop so abruptly the person behind me walks smack into me. “I’m so sorry,” I say.
“What?” Trish says.
“Not you. What do you mean you won the lottery?”
“I won two tickets to see Hamilton. Tonight.”
“OK. Next time you might want to preface that you aren’t talking about the Illinois State Lottery,” I say as I rub the spot between my shoulder blades. Ouch, that’s gonna leave a mark. But I’m happy for Trish. “That’s awesome! I know you’ve been dying to see it.”
“I have. I’m so excited. Dax has a drinks thing. Will you come with me?”
“Yes, yes and yes. I’d love to see it.”
“Do you want to grab dinner before? The show starts at seven-thirty.”
“Sure. Let’s do the Grillroom. Meet you there at six?”
“See you then. And listen to the soundtrack. It’s on YouTube. You’re gonna love it.”
Trish knows the words to every song. Seriously. She’s obsessed.
When I get back from lunch I pull out my headphones and listen to the soundtrack while I do work. It’s not what I was expecting. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but it takes some getting used to. Over dinner Trish gives me the narrative to the soundtrack. That helps. I never knew Alexander Hamilton was such an accomplished man. Or that he developed our treasury system. How cool is that?
I love the play. Absolutely love it. When it’s over Trish wants to know what I thought.
“It was amazing. I wished I had listened to more of the music before. Did you love it?”
She nods.
“What’s your favorite song?” I ask.
“That’s a tough one. I guess it would be ‘Wait for It.’ What about you?”
“‘Helpless.’”
“Hmm.”
“What?”
“Nothing. How are things going with James?”
“Good. He’s taking me to Ravinia this weekend.”
“What night?”
“Saturday. The CSO is playing.”
“I’ll be there with Dax! We have pavilion seats but we can meet up with you before.”
“Perfect.” We’re back at my car. “Do you want me to drive you home?”
“Sure, thanks. I’ll put on ‘Helpless’ for you.”
The song plays and I hum along. It’s about when Eliza, Hamilton’s wife, realizes she’s in love with him. It was love at first sight. Right when she saw him, she looked into his eyes and she was down for the count, she was drowning in them. Trish looks over at me during the song. I know what she’s thinking. I wish I could say different, but I’m thinking the same.
The nice thing about working on the corporate side of the business is I rarely have weekend events. But since Charlotte’s been on leave I’ve had to cover more weddings. Fortunately my weekend event is on Sunday night. I head to the store on Saturday to buy some things for our picnic. Apparently most people at Ravinia sit on the lawn. Trish and Dax are joining us before the performance. It’ll be her first time meeting James, and my first time at Ravinia.
James picks me up at five and we head out to the suburbs.
“I can’t believe you’ve lived here for over ten years and have never been to Ravinia.”
“I know. But it’s not as though I often have a reason to go to Highland Park. Maybe if it were in the city. It’s kind of ironic we’re heading to the burbs to see the Chicago Symphony.”
“True. I’ve never heard them before.”
“Me neither. But I’m looking forward to it.”
“What’d you bring?” he asks.
“Cheese and crackers, black bean salsa, pasta salad, and of course, wine. You’ve got the sandwiches and dessert, right?”
“Sure do. I bought different kinds of wraps. And I made the dessert myself.”
“Really? You’re a baker now too? What’d you make?”
“Brownies. Technically Duncan Hines did, but I added the egg and oil.”
“I’m so proud.”
“You will be. I tasted one, they’re good.”
He asks me to tell him about Trish and Dax. I give him an overview and realize the way I’m describing Dax makes him sound stuffy. He’s a museum curator, very highbrow, and went to an Ivy League school.
“Yeah, I can see we have a lot in common,” James says.
“Don’t worry about it. He’s cool,” I assure him. Though now I’m worried they won’t have much to talk about. We arrive and it’s already crowded. We find a spot on the lawn and set up our blanket. I text Trish our location and she says they’ll be here soon. James and I set up the food and then we people watch. I never knew how serious some people were about Ravinia. They have cute, monogrammed picnic baskets, elaborate table set ups, candelabras, chairs with umbrellas in case it rains and cup holders for drinks.
“Sorry we’re slumming it,” James jokes.
I see Trish and wave her over. I make introductions and they sit with us for a while. I didn’t realize Dax was from Indiana, like James, so they have a lot to talk about after all.
“He’s cute,” Trish says.
“He is.”
James looks over and smiles at me.
“And that dimple! Have you sealed the deal yet?”
“Not yet.”
“Lucy!”
“What are you ladies talking about?” James asks.
“You,” Trish says.
“All good things I hope.” He plants a kiss on my cheek. After that we talk as a group and James is super sweet and affectionate. He tells funny stories about his students, which Trish eats up. “One time I was in the middle of a lesson on Halloween. Ten minutes into class one of my kids pops out of my storage cabinet wearing a ghost costume and screams, ‘Boo!’ Scared the crap out of me.”
“Seriously? I never pulled shit like that in school. Did you send him to the office?” Trish asks.
“Nah. He was just messing around. No harm done.”
“I bet all the kids love you.”
He shrugs. “I’m not there to be their friend. But it seems that once many of them leave, they find me on Facebook.” He laughs.
“Tell Lucy she needs to get on it.”
“I’ve tried.”
“Sorry. I have zero interest in posting status updates.”
“I know. You don’t like to share
things about yourself. I thought maybe James here could change your mind. Are those brownies?”
I laugh at Trish’s abrupt change in direction.
“They are. Homemade by Chef James here.”
James passes them out and I make a big deal about how great they are. He rewards me with a big smile and seems embarrassed by my praise. It’s really sweet something so simple can make him this happy.
“We should head to our seats. Show’s about to start,” Dax says.
We say our goodbyes and Trish gives me a hug. “What’s wrong with you?” she whispers. “He’s so adorable and modest. Just do him already! Tonight.”
I laugh and look over at James. Maybe I will.
We settle down on the blanket and listen to the sounds of the orchestra. He pulls me against him and we lie on the grass, taking in the music. It’s so relaxing and a sense of calm washes over me. I close my eyes and savor his lips on mine. It’s just the two of us, no ghosts from the past haunt me. I’m in the here and now with James, and realize it’s right where I want to be.
When we get home later I follow Trish’s advice. Many times.
Chapter 26
James
Things changed after I took Lucy to Ravinia. I can’t explain how, she just seems different, like she finally let me past whatever wall she had built up. And she finally slept with me. Thank God. I’m a patient man, but not being able to have sex with her was killing me. I’m happy to say we’ve more than made up for it.
My cousin Bryce is getting married in Indiana next month. I want to ask Lucy to be my date. But I’m worried about the baggage that comes with an invite. She’ll be meeting my family—not just my mom and dad, but my entire clan. Except for my brother, Sawyer. He’s on an all-expenses paid sales retreat in Hawaii. Tough break, I know. Even though my family is low-key I realize it’s a big step. We’ve been taking things slow and I don’t want to ask too much too soon. But I want her there by my side.
She’s lying next to me in my bed. Her hair is messy and her cheeks are flushed, and she’s wearing nothing but my shirt. She looks sexy as hell. She always does after sex. It’s as if her guard is down and she can’t help but to just be happy. It’s not that she’s normally unhappy. I guess I would say she’s more reserved than most women I date. But when we’re intimate, I see a new side of her. It’s frustrating that I’m always the one to initiate things. I’m not sure if that should worry me. I get the sense she wants to, but she’s just shy about it. Let’s just say she’s not shy once things get rolling.