by Robin Leaf
“It’s just that…” she paused, looking down at our joined hands.
“Jeez, Etta, I thought you of all people would be happy for me.”
She pulled her hands away and stepped back from me. She sighed and gave me a tight smile. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” She touched my arm. “Congratulations, Nathaniel.” The hug was quick and tight and felt forced and awkward, something I’d never felt from her before. Everything between us always felt so natural, especially lately, well up until I screwed it up. This was beyond wrong.
I stood there stunned and confused. All my excitement? Gone. None of this went at all like I thought it would. I thought for sure Etta would be just as excited as I was. She was my best friend after all, and the love of my life, but she didn’t know that. Instead, it felt like I’d been bitch slapped. And not your regular, run-of-the-mill bitch slap, either. This was the queen mother of all bitch slaps.
She turned to walk back to the kitchen. “Have you told your mom yet?”
“No, I wanted you to be the first.” When coach told me, I thought of no one to tell but her, not even my mom, and that made me feel like shit. I didn’t even think of my mom? I’m a shitty son. However, the guilt took a back seat to how much Etta’s reaction really irked me. “I should probably call her.”
I sat on the couch and called my mother to tell her the news. I had to pull the phone away from my ear when I told her. Her shrieking could be heard all the way to Galveston, I was sure. Her voice then cracked, and I knew she was crying.
“Oh my God, Nathaniel. This is everything you’ve ever wanted.” She sobbed. I hated hearing my mother cry, even happy tears. “I’m so happy for you, honey.” I heard her blow her nose. “Your father… your father would be so proud, too.”
That one almost got to me. Ok, it totally got to me, but I changed the subject before my emotion showed.
“They want me there next week, Mom.” I braced myself for the reaction, expecting the same, if not worse, of what I’d been handed from Etta.
“So soon? Oh, honey. That’s great. We have to celebrate.”
I scratched my head and smiled. “What, no questions about finishing school?” This day was just confusing me more and more.
“Nathaniel, this is your dream. We can figure out school later.” She took a deep breath, her voice returning almost to normal. “You need to call your brother. Jacob will be thrilled.”
“I will, Mom. I think he has class right now.”
“Oh my God, does Etta know? Did she flip out?”
“Yeah, Mom,” I almost whispered, searching the room to see if Etta was there. “She did.” Just not the way I wanted her to flip.
“Ooooh, we have to do dinner tonight. Do you want to come here? Or do you want to go out? Out would probably be better. Oh, my son is going to be a professional baseball player. This is so cool.”
I laughed. “Yeah, it definitely is cool.”
“Why don’t you sound happier? News like this… I figured you be through the roof.” She cleared her throat. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
I opted to not tell her the truth. “I’m just in shock, I guess.” I watched Etta come from the kitchen, down the rest of her smoothie, set her cup down on the bar, and lean back on her elbows to watch me. In this position, her back arched and her breasts thrust forward, so I had to close my eyes to stay focused on my conversation. “Can I call you about dinner later? I have a meeting with Coach in an hour to talk about what I need to do this next week.”
“Yeah, sure. Who can I tell? I know you ball players are superstitious. Can I tell, well, everyone I know?”
I laughed again. “Go crazy, Mom. But remember, I have to go through the minors first. I may not even get called up to the majors at all.” I sighed. “It’s my foot in the door, but not a guarantee. Don’t oversell it.”
“Screw that.” She giggled. “You’ll be on a major team before the season even starts.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Oh, I’m so proud. Call me after your meeting. And call your brother. Love you!”
I smiled. “I will. Love you, too, Mom.” I snapped my phone closed and looked at Etta.
She glared at me intensely for a few moments. “Tell me again,” she said with a smirk.
I stared at her, expecting her to say more. When she didn’t, I asked. “Tell you what?”
“Well, I didn’t handle your news well. In fact I was kind of a bitch about it.”
“Yeah you were,” I mumbled.
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t necessarily have to agree with me. Just do me a favor and stand up and tell me again.”
I sighed and grunted. “Fine.” I stood and made a show to smooth out my shorts. Clearing my throat, I announced, “Eddie, I got a call from…”
She ran to me, jumped and threw her arms around my neck with so much force that I had to catch her and take a few steps to gain my balance. She collapsed into me as I lowered her gently to the ground, hugging fiercely. When her hands traveled down my chest to my waist, I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply, getting lost in the perfect Dreamsicle smell that would always be her scent.
“I’m so happy for you, Nathaniel,” she said quietly, her lips barely brushing my ear.
We stood there for a while like that, her wrapped tightly in my arms, hers around my waist. Her head rested on my shoulder, mine rested on her head. I loved how she fit with me. I loved the feel of her soft curves against me. I loved her smell and her soft sighs. I loved feeling her chest press against mine as she breathed. I loved her.
It had been too long since I felt her in my arms. She stopped showing affection since I admitted what it did to me, but our relationship didn’t really change after that. We never discussed that night. She ignored it, and I followed her lead. I missed the physical closeness, but I was so relieved nothing else was screwed up, that I never mentioned it again.
But now, with her in my arms for the first time in over a month, I felt that taboo stirring, those warm tinglies that were often followed by me getting hard. This was bad. I had to shift so that my arousal wasn’t so obvious. The news I just gave her, the one where my dream finally came true, was masked by the overwhelming desire to finally tell her, to admit to her what I’d felt for so long. But now? Now was not the time to let her in on my secret. In fact, it was the worst time. I’d be leaving her. In one short week. Friends, that’s all we’d ever be.
She laughed and pulled away first. She walked two steps away from me, and I’m pretty sure she wiped her face. I wanted to grab her, pull her back to me and hold her again, just to see how she would react to the knowledge of how she was affecting me, but this was for the best. I sat down on the couch to mask my hard on.
“That was much better,” I admitted.
“Yeah, sorry about that.” She turned to face me, her eyes shining. I had to sit on my hands to keep myself from wiping the tears from her face with my thumbs, or better yet, kiss them away. Shit. Wrong thought. “You blindsided me earlier. I never expected the news.” She grunted and sat on the couch. “Honestly, I reacted kind of selfishly.” She smiled. “The thought of losing my best friend…”
“You’re not losing me,” I said, wrapping my arm around her. She snuggled into my side. “It’s not like I’m dying.”
She laughed. “You’re too cocky to die.” She looked up at me. “I am really happy for you. Not too many people get to actualize their childhood dream. If they did, there’d be more Spider Men and princesses in the world.”
“Ha! You’re probably right.”
We sat together for a few more seconds. She seemed lost in thought. I watched her face play out the drama in her head and wondered what she was thinking.
“So, you have to meet with coach?” she finally asked.
After I kissed her temple, I stood up, thankful I could now do so without being embarrassed. “Yep. And if I don’t go now, I’ll be late.”
“Will you feel up to going to Doyle’s tonight? I owe you a beer at lea
st.”
I smiled. “Yep. After all this, I think I deserve a whole pitcher.”
She stood up and smacked my ass as she walked by. “You got it.”
Twenty Five
February 11, seven years ago
This was it, the last day I would be living here. The next day, I was scheduled to leave at 2:30 p.m. on a plane to Chicago. I knew I should be excited to be leaving to realize my dream, but I had a hard time feeling anything but regret. I didn’t regret getting the call. I regretted what I was leaving behind.
This past week? Tough, to say the least. Etta and I spent as much time together as we could, but with my packing and her schedule, it was difficult. And it seemed she didn’t know how to act around me. One minute she would be normal Etta, joking and laughing with me, the next she would be guarded and edgy but trying to hide it.
What made it worse was when I came home earlier than I planned Tuesday night from my last night out with the boys, I found her on the couch crying. It about ripped my heart out of my chest. I dared not ask what was wrong; I simply pulled her in my lap and wrapped her in my arms where she fell asleep. Instead of sleeping there, I boldly carried her to my bed and held her all night, watching her sleep. We didn’t talk about it at all, but every night since, she fell asleep on the couch and I carried her to my bed, where we held on to each other all night. I knew it would ruin sleeping for me.
I could tell she had feelings for me, I just wasn’t sure how deep they ran.
I could not go away without her knowing how I feel.
I could not go away without everyone knowing how I feel about her.
I had a plan, a grand romantic gesture, one which would be set in motion tonight.
If it happened as planned, she would finally know, and hopefully, she would be mine.
Forever.
While she was in class and in the training room yesterday, I worked to set the whole thing up. I called in so many favors, cashed in most of my savings and bought all the necessities. I was putting it all on the line. Tonight would either be the best night of my life or the most disappointing. Since I asked most of our friends and family for the favors, they insisted that they be there to witness it, and I agreed. However the more I thought about it, the more I worried that their presence would probably be a bad idea. Etta was very private, but these were, for the most part, people she trusted. Hopefully it wouldn’t backfire.
***
The karaoke bar where we had Jake’s birthday party wasn’t available, so I found a different one yesterday that would allow us to reserve the afternoon for my private party. It was a little farther away than I wanted, but it was still packed with my friends, acquaintances and various others who came to wish me well. My back stung from all the slapped-back bro hugs that all my way-too-drunk-too-early buddies kept giving me every time they would sing their “special” song, usually loudly and off key, to me. I laughed when appropriate and feigned interest when necessary, but my heart wasn’t in it. Why? Etta wasn’t here yet.
Beth assured me earlier today that she would have Etta here by 4:00 p.m. It was almost 5:30 and still no sign of Etta. I was getting increasingly anxious, and every few minutes, I would turn toward the door.
“Relax,” Chris instructed. “Beth just called me. They’ll be here in a few minutes.”
“They were supposed to be here an hour ago,” I whispered. “What is taking so long?”
“Beth said they… had some issues. But they are almost here.”
“Yeah, but right now, time is essential.” I looked down, hoping I didn’t give away that I meant I was losing my time with Etta. So I quickly added, “We have to be out of here by seven. That doesn’t leave much time. And I can only take so much more of Luke’s version of ‘Friends in Low Places.’”
Chris smiled around his beer bottle. “Agreed.” He took a drink and set down his bottle. “Where’s Jake? I thought he’d be here by now.”
“He got held up by some rainstorm when he picked up Emily in Austin. They’ll be here later.” I checked the door again. “This’ll never work. I’m not going to do it.” I slammed my bottle down on the table. “It’s a stupid plan. She’s going to hate it.” I stood up. “I’m leaving.”
Chris grabbed my arm. “You can’t leave this. It’s for you, Dumbass.” He narrowed his eyes. “Sit. Down.”
I pulled my arm out of his hand. “No. I gotta get out of here.”
I practically ran toward the door, pushing past people who all tried to stop me and talk to me as I passed.
Then she entered.
I stopped dead in my tracks. All my anger and fear dissipated.
She looked more amazingly beautiful than I had ever seen her.
I can’t remember what she was wearing; all I remember was that her hair was up in a loose bun with loose curls surrounding her face. She had put on makeup, just enough to accentuate her eyes. Her eyes, sinfully greenish-grey tonight, searched the room and landed on me. I couldn’t help but openly gape at her. She smiled shyly and lowered her head, but she didn’t take her eyes off of me. The magnetic force that I felt whenever I was in her presence drew me to her, and I found myself in her space, close enough to breathe in her heavenliness.
I wasn’t sure if we stood like that for a few seconds or minutes or hours, but finally, I realized neither one of us had spoken. I reached down and grabbed her hand, threading her fingers through mine.
“Hi,” I breathed, releasing a breath. I must have been holding it for a while because I felt a little light headed. It might have been that way just from being close to her.
“Hey.” She dropped her eyes to my chest. “Sorry we’re late.”
I placed a finger under her chin to lift her eyes back to mine. “It’s okay.” I smiled. “C’mon. Chris and I have a table up front. I want both my best friends by my side tonight.”
I led her through the crowd to our table and pulled out her chair for her. Beth already sat in Chris’s lap and they continued to kiss their hello quite annoyingly. I ordered drinks for the girls and two more beers for us guys. It was going to be my second and last beer of the evening. I needed to stay sober so I didn’t screw this up.
I relaxed a little after she arrived. My palms were still a tad sweaty and my heart raced, but I couldn’t guarantee that wasn’t simply because I was close to her. It honestly could have been a little performance anxiety, but since I had never experienced it, I couldn’t be completely sure.
More of my friends sang songs, some to me, and some just because.
The surprise of the night was Josh. The guy who made fun of me since high school for singing in the musical got up and sang “Never Say Goodbye” by Bon Jovi. He brought the fucking house down. I was a little pissed, which morphed into impressed by the end of the song; that is until we watched him revel not so humbly in the adoration of his “fans.”
“So, you are going to sing, right Nathaniel?” Etta asked me, after the thunderous roar for Josh died down.
“I might have a song in mind,” I teased, leaning in close to her.
“Good,” she smiled, pointing to the stage, “because that cocky son of a bitch needs to be taken down.”
God. I. Loved. This. Woman.
I got the call from Jacob I had been waiting for all night. He was waiting for me in the hallway of the offices.
“I’ll be back. I need to go to the restroom before I sing.” I leaned down and kissed Etta’s head. “Don’t move, okay?”
She nodded her head before I walked away.
As I passed Emily, she hugged me quickly.
“Good luck, Nate.” She kissed my cheek.
I looked back at the table to see Etta looking our direction. I pulled away from Emily. “Thanks.” I leaned down to whisper, “Don’t let her go anywhere.”
“On it,” she said as she walked to our table.
She sat next to Etta, who didn’t seem to want to acknowledge Emily. I watched their tense exchange briefly before I remembered where I was going
.
It was all about to go down.
“Took you long enough,” I said to Jake, grabbing the hanging bag from him.
“Sorry,” I swear he blushed. “We had to pull over to let the rain pass. Then I had a hard time getting the key to work in your door, and the rain followed us here, unfortunately.”
I locked myself in the office to change. Luckily, buying a tuxedo last minute off the rack worked, but I didn’t think about the tie. How the fuck do I tie a bow tie? I never thought to ask. Plus, shaking hands with sweaty palms don’t function well.
I threw open the door. “Jake! Help!”
“I don’t know how to tie those things,” he admitted.
“Well, find someone!”
I filled the inside pockets of my jacket with all the rest of the surprises I planned for the evening. Checking the clock, it was 6:37. Only twenty-three minutes left before the rest of the patrons would be welcome, and I felt my resolve wavering, questioning the stupidity of my plan one last time, before the door opened.
Debbie, the owner of the bar, a short, slender, fifty-something woman with bleached blonde hair, enormous, to-her-chin boobs and fake-tanned skin burst in the room. “Bow tie, huh? Here, Hun,” she soothingly rasped, probably due to a former two-pack-a-day habit, former since she didn’t smell like cigarettes. “Let me get that for you.”
As I looked at her up close, I could tell that in her younger years, she was probably very attractive. She was still pretty now, but under the harsh fluorescent lighting of the bright office and the subtle orange glow radiating from her cleavage, some might consider that holding on to her youth was sadly working against her. However, I thought it oddly worked; it was part of her captivating charm. When I called yesterday, I liked her instantly, and not just because she was more than willing to help me with my plan. She was pretty friggin awesome, one of those people everyone couldn’t help but like, and she even made a few suggestions to make my plan more romantic.