Forks, Knives, and Spoons

  Amy reluctantly turned off the faucet and buried her face in a towel. Heavy footsteps approached the bathroom. She quickly dried her eyes—the solid, even steps couldn’t be Veronica’s. Amy yanked the towel from her face and peeked around the doorframe. She screamed at the darkened silhouette.

  “Crap, Drew! You scared me to death!”

  Andrew laughed. “You shouldn’t leave the door propped open.” He whistled looking her up and down. “I like coming home to you like this. Let me join you.”

  She gave him a kiss, then re-buckled his belt for him. “Veronica’s on her way up, keep your pants on,” she teased. “I’m going to put some on myself.”

  “I’ll get it,” Andrew said, answering Veronica’s knock.

  As the two women settled into talking position, Andrew poured them glasses of wine and then went into the bedroom to change.

  “So tell me all about it,” Amy prompted, and she sat back, sipping her wine, ready to hear the story of Veronica’s Hoboken Thanksgiving.

  “See you later, Aim.” Andrew was out of his suit and tie, but still dressed nicely in khakis and a button-down straight from the dry cleaners. “Going out for a bit.”

  “Oh. Okay. I thought we were making pasta for dinner. What are you doing?”

  “Just meeting up with a few people from school: Cooper, Buzz, Dan, Bree, and a few other guys.” He started for the door.

  “Bree? She’s in town?”

  “Yeah, she lives here now,” Andrew said, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “In the city? Bree O’Connell lives in the city? Since when?” Amy asked, sitting more upright with each question that popped in her head and directly out of her mouth. An old twang of jealousy stabbed at her gut.

  “I don’t know, since around Memorial Day, I guess.” Andrew shrugged.

  “She’s been here since May and you never mentioned it? We’ve never had her over or gone out with her?” Amy’s voice was rising with her posture.

  “You sound like you’re mad. Are you mad? It’s not like you two are really friends. Besides, we’ve been busy with stuff: there was Fourth of July, then Saint John, and leaving the city to go to the beach in August, and the fall has been so swamped with work and homecoming and stuff.” He shrugged again. “Do you want to come out with me?”

  Amy stared at him and took a deep breath, thinking, You didn’t even come for homecoming. “No, I’m hanging here with V. Tell everyone hello for me.”

  Andrew gave Amy a kiss. “I won’t be late, promise,” he said, then turned with what was almost a hop. He tucked his wallet in his pants and left.

  “So, what are you thinking?” Veronica said after the door clicked shut.

  “I don’t know. I guess he’s right, it’s been busy, but he should’ve told me that Bree moved here, don’t you think? I can’t understand why he didn’t because it’s not that big of a deal and things are good with us.”

  Veronica squinted at her friend. “We’ve been best friends for a really long time. I know you’re optimistic and all, but you’re okay with him just going out with his ex-girlfriend? The one he never told you lives here.”

  “They went out in high school. It was over seven years ago.” Amy heard herself using Andrew’s defense, then got truthful. “I do get a little jealous, but I trust Drew. You’ve known me long enough, and Andrew, too. Nothing’s going to happen. He just didn’t tell me that Bree’s living in the city now, that’s all.”

  “For seven months, Amy. You can’t only see the bright side of things. You need to be more honest with yourself.”

  Amy was quiet. An almost-thought flurried across her mind then crystallized into words.

  “You don’t think he could be shacking up with her, do you? He’s been working a lot of late nights.”

  The door handle jiggled, silencing them. They stared as the door swished open and Andrew walked in behind it.

  “I decided to stay home with you girls,” he said, untucking and unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his white crew neck undershirt. “I’ll call Cooper at work to let him know I’m not coming—hopefully I can catch him—then I’ll start the pasta. You staying for dinner, Veronica? It won’t be as good as Joey’s sauce; I’m just opening a jar of Prego.”

  Andrew grabbed the cordless phone and walked to their bedroom, yanking on the antenna and dialing. Veronica’s face mirrored Amy’s with widened eyes and brows raised, both wondering if he’d heard them and why he changed his plans.

  AMY WATCHED ANDREW KNOT his tie in the mirror’s reflection. She loved the intimacy of observing him get ready in the morning, grateful she was the only one who got to do that.

  “You were smart to take the day off. I wish I could’ve,” Andrew said.

  Amy adjusted the pillows against the headboard. “I’m going to finish my Christmas wrapping before Matt arrives around lunchtime. Will you be home to get the tree and decorate with us? I want to string popcorn and cranberries.”

  “I still don’t understand why you’re putting a tree up now—it’s two days before Christmas and we’re leaving the city.” Andrew faced her and ran his fingers through his still-damp hair.

  “I’ve tried to get you to go with me for weeks. I’ve always had a tree, every year. I can’t miss this year. You know I love Christmas and decorating and wrapping presents. I’ll get a small one and we’ll have time to enjoy it when we get back before New Year’s.”

  “I should be home by dinnertime. Are we ordering in or going out?”

  “I thought we could order from the Thai place, and I baked those Christmas cookies you’ve been swiping for dessert.”

  “Sounds good, but go ahead and pick out the tree with Matt, and don’t wait for me to start decorating.”

  “Aw, really? All right, we’ll save you some cranberries to string but I can’t promise we won’t eat the leftover popcorn.” She tucked her legs under her and kneeled forward to kiss him. He pulled her to him, kissing her deeply and caressing her breasts beneath her nightshirt.

  “That’s the way to head into the office, bonus that you like to brush your teeth the second you wake up. Can we have some time alone together tonight? I want to give you your Christmas present before we leave tomorrow.”

  “You got me a gift?”

  “Very funny. I’ve gotten better at remembering occasions, haven’t I? I even wrapped it on your fancy wrapping station out there.” He left their bedroom and from the living room called back to her, “Are you going to clean up all this stuff out here?”

  “First thing, Mr. Tidy.”

  After he’d gone, Amy got to work preparing for Matt’s arrival. She ate breakfast, wrapped boxes, and packed up the gifts for home. Something was nudging at her even as she hummed along to Christmas carols. It was as if there was something she knew but couldn’t retrieve, something within her that wouldn’t surface.

  She cleaned up the paper scraps, price tags, and ribbon cuttings. A receipt caught her eye. It was from the jewelry store Michael C. Fina. My gift from Andrew is from Michael C. Fina? She put the receipt aside without looking at it, guarding the surprise. She disciplined herself and went to shower with a skip in her step.

  The receipt called to her as she dried her hair and touched some mascara to her lashes. She let herself touch the slip but walked away to brush her teeth again. The force of it pulled her back, and finally, she had to peek. She lifted the paper. She unfolded it and gasped as the buzzer startled her.

  With the door wide open, she waited for Matt to turn the corner. When she saw him, she ran toward him and leaped into his arms, wrapping hers tightly around his neck. The bang and click reminded her that she hadn’t propped the door.

  “Uh oh,” Amy said.

  Matt laughed and looked at her bare feet. “Where’s the super’s office? I’ll run down and get the key.”

  “Well, if you take the elevator to level B, when you get out, there’s a hallway to the left. You need to go to the end of that but don’t go in the door marked ‘manager’; inst
ead there’s a blue door right after that, and you need to go in there and up a few stairs. Go right or, no, maybe that’s a left, but in that area, there’s a door with a sign, that’s where he should be.”

  Matt frowned as he visualized each step of the directions. Amy chuckled at him.

  “Forget it, I’m coming with you. Give me a piggyback.”

  Matt bent down and Amy climbed on his back.

  “Am I choking you?”

  “Not at all,” he said, hoisting her higher and hitting the B button in the elevator.

  Amy guided him through the basement hallways.

  “I hope you don’t come down here alone.” His voice echoed and his sneakers squeaked above the drone of a fan motor.

  “That door.” Amy knocked on the door over Matt’s shoulder and thought of the time that she and Andrew had gotten locked out. Andrew sent her to find the building superintendent while he carried up the last of their luggage from the lobby. She had shuddered and ran through the halls as quickly as she could to get out of the basement, where the pipes clanked and noises came from the vents. This time, she was grateful to be with Matt.

  The super coughed as he corralled them into the service elevator, an express route from the dungeon of the building. “Maybe you should give a neighbor an extra key.”

  “Thank you,” Amy chirped, dodging his cough as he unlocked the door. Matt handed him a tip and followed Amy inside.

  “First, lunch, then we pick out a tree,” Amy announced, tying her L.L.Bean duck boots.

  The local café was busy but Matt and Amy found a small table in the back. They talked easily, tasted each other’s choices, and laughed at tales of work and the same-olds of Syracuse. After sharing a chocolate mousse, they walked across an avenue and down a few streets. The trees were lined up by size, and the smell of pine replaced the scents of subway steam and pretzel carts. Amy chose a spruce that barely reached her waist. As the tree guy tied it up for her, she pulled out her wallet to pay.

  “That fella’s already taken care of it, ma’am.”

  Amy turned to look for the lady old enough to be called “ma’am” but only saw Matt behind her.

  “Thanks, Matt, it’s the perfect city Christmas tree.” He lifted the pine onto his shoulder and she walked beside him on the way back to the apartment. They dodged other pedestrians, part of the holiday hustle, and shared comfortable quiet.

  With him half hidden by evergreen branches, Amy gave voice to the knot in her stomach. “Matt? I’m pretty sure that Andrew is cheating on me.”

  Matt stopped and set the tree trunk on the sidewalk, concern in his face as he listened to her.

  “I think he’s been sleeping with Bree. I’ve had a feeling something was off for a little while, I just didn’t want to believe it, so I’ve been ignoring the signs. Then I found out Bree has been in New York for seven months. Veronica had some suspicions, too, but I didn’t listen.” Amy bit her lip and studied a snag in her mitten. “Then today I found the receipt for my Christmas present. It was for two necklaces. I know that doesn’t seem like proof of much, but I know Andrew and there’s no way he got me two necklaces.”

  Matt gathered Amy into his right arm and put the tree on his left shoulder, and they walked the few blocks back to the apartment in silence.

  “A LITTLE TOWARD ME, yup, that’s straight.” Amy held the top of the tree while Matt tightened the trunk into the stand. He crawled from under it covered in needles.

  “Well, that’s one fresh pine.”

  They laughed and together picked sharp needles from his hair and shirt, every so often Matt jumping with an “ouch” followed by Amy giggling a “sorry.” They twined white lights around the tree as Christmas carols played on the stereo.

  “I love the sparkle of Christmas lights.” Amy flipped off the apartment lights and stood back admiring their work. The December evening was already a deep indigo, and the tree lights cast a lusty glow through the room.

  “You get the beers, I’ll get the popcorn,” Amy said, gathering the bowl she’d popped before getting locked out, the dish of fresh cranberries, spools of thread, and sturdy sewing needles. Working by the light of the tree, they sat on the couch with the bowls balanced on the cushions between them like they used to do for their movie nights. They sipped beer and shared stories of their childhood Christmases.

  “My mom always made Christmas so special, it’s not the same without her. For a religious woman, she loved Santa Claus, she really saw him as a saint and an image of kindness and love instead of a commercial character. Every year, she made sure we went to see him, even when I was too old for it, I still had to have my picture with Santa.” Matt’s eyes twinkled with the memory of his mother and the glint of the Christmas lights. “She loved her Santa collection and said she covered our mantel with the antique figurines to welcome him when he came down the chimney.”

  Amy’s string of alternating popcorn and cranberry touched the floor. She pricked her finger and stuck it in her mouth, sucking away the sting. Matt had strung a few kernels, but his hands were idle as he spoke.

  “I remember when I learned the truth about Santa. I was nine or ten when Kim and Rachel blindfolded me and dragged me to the basement. They pulled off the scarf and I was staring at the gift-hiding place. I was crushed and ran to my mother crying. She hugged me and talked to me—her voice was so soft as she helped me to believe in the magic and spirit of Christmas in a new way. She made it okay.” Matt was smiling, back in his mother’s arms. “She made Christmas good. You’re like her in that way. Thanks for a fun day, Amy, I’m really happy to be here with you.”

  She rested her popcorn string in her lap and leaned toward Matt. She crossed into his space and drifted forward. The ceramic bowls clanked between them, but neither looked away from the other. Moving slowly, her lips hovered without touching his, deciding. She paused, holding her breath but feeling his, lingering with lips parted, their mouths only a thread apart. Expectation and hopefulness coursed through her; she wondered if she was shaking outside like she was shaking inside.

  They were two magnets facing the wrong way, an invisible field holding them apart. Kiss him. It was more a feeling than a thought. Then, as if one magnet suddenly turned over, she pressed her lips to his. It felt new and old both. Exciting and comfortable. Her heart pulsed, fluttering her chest and thrumming her ears. Everything in her prickled with faint surprise and unbounded pleasure. She surrendered herself and there was nothing in the world except the two of them until bright light filled the room.

  “What the hell is this?”

  ANDREW STARED AT THEM, fists at his sides. The knot in his tie that had been flawless that morning was loosened and lopsided at his throat.

  “I’m out working my ass off all day and this is what I come home to? I trusted you, I believed you when you told me you were ‘just friends.’” Andrew paced behind the couch, dragging his fingers through his fine hair.

  Amy stood to respond and saw that she had placed herself exactly between Andrew and Matt. Andrew moved closer to her, positioning himself above Matt, still seated on the couch.

  “I’ve been so nice all these years, letting you be friends with him, bringing you his boring postcards from my mailbox. I never worried about him, never thought you’d go for a total nerd. Cut him off now, this is over, whatever this is.” He waved his hand between her and Matt. His forehead was damp, and blue veins bulged through his reddened skin. “How could you embarrass me like this? Tell him now that you’ll never talk to him again, that this is through.”

  His voice commanded her to look at him, but she turned away, her gaze falling on Matt, who said nothing but held her with his eyes. She knew the downward slope at the corners of his eyes by heart, knew the way they creased with his smile or drooped when he was thinking.

  “Say it! Tell him, Amy!”

  She faced Andrew. His glare made him unfamiliar to her.

  “No,” she said calmly. “No, I won’t do that.”

  An
drew took a step backward, wavering in his stance. He turned away from them and held his head down for only a second before he spun around. Matt stood and moved to Amy’s side. He was taller than Andrew, and slimmer, and his movement seemed to anger Andrew more.

  “You’re choosing this geek over me? We’ve been together for all these years and you’re going to throw that away for this loser? Don’t talk!” Andrew ordered, holding his palm up to them. “I can’t believe you’d pick him. I’m your perfect knife, remember? He’s just a spoon, a dorky, dweeby spoon. I’m the one who saved you when you needed help, I was the one who was there to rescue you in that bathroom, and I’m the one who can protect you. I forgave you once for kissing someone else, but this is—this is too much.”

  Gulping air through his flared nostrils, Andrew pointed as he escalated: “You’ve been waiting and waiting for me all this time, even acting like my wife. Well, I guess it’s a good thing I never proposed to you. Oh, wait. Wait, I know what you’re doing. You’re trying to make me jealous so I’ll give you a ring. Is that it? I knew you’d wait around for me. Bree was sure you knew we’re sleeping together, but I told her you were clueless and you’d wait for me no matter what. You even bought that stupid story about me being mugged when I left my wallet at her place.”

  Amy’s mouth fell open as he confirmed suspicions and revealed details. His blundered confession escalated his fury. He stomped over, grabbed the top of the tree and threw it across the floor. Lights clinked on the wood but stayed lit. Pine needles tinkled down and water spilled from the stand, puddling on the rug that Amy detested. Christmas lights were everywhere and Andrew’s mouth was open wide in a shout of rage. Amy had a fleeting sense of déjà vu.

  He pounded his fist to his forehead and dug a heel hard into the floor. With imperceptible motion, Matt shifted himself in front of Amy. Andrew started to talk but instead exhaled forcefully, shooting spit droplets into the air, then grasped his shaking head with both hands.

  As Andrew seemed swallowed in his storm, Amy spoke, with precision and firmness in her voice. “I don’t know you anymore. Leave. Leave now. I’ll pack my stuff and be out tomorrow, but get out now.”