Getting up, I stroll to his dresser, looking for a soft, long T-shirt to putz around in. When I found one, a Dallas Mavericks T-shirt that I bet he wouldn’t show to his Seventy-Sixer fan friends, I throw it on and go to the kitchen.
Reese, again, knows me too well. He left me a full pot of coffee, knowing that I need at least three cups to be a fully-functioning human in the morning.
I take my mug to the couch, along with Reese’s laptop, taking full advantage of his offer. No reason to rush around and get out of here, another perk of having a no pants sleepover with your best friend. I’d spent so much time in Reese’s various spaces that I did not feel at all compelled to pull my shoes on in the middle of the night and disappear before the sun came up. No matter what happened between us now, we were always going to be friends in some sense of the word.
Hopefully, it was not just friends. Hopefully, it was now … lovers. Bleh, I hated that word. Boyfriend and girlfriend? It sounded too mundane, didn’t encompass the largeness of what we shared.
Firing up the laptop, I logged into my Gmail, and opened my blog site to edit mode so that I could view analytics and layout. I had two new partnership offers, one with a shoe company and the other with a sunglass company that was all over Instagram, it was like the syphilis of social media.
I’d made a promise to myself when I first started my blog and brand that I wasn’t going to do this simply to make money. I was really going to back products and fashion that I loved, both expensive and for the everyday woman. At the beginning, I’d kind of deviated from this when I began to get offers from every Insta-hungry brand who would pay anyone to rep their stuff. But my page began to get bogged down in shit that I didn’t even particularly like, and I professionally parted ways with almost all of those companies.
It might not garner me as much money, but slowly I’d built relationships with brands that I actually wanted to be involved with. So this sunglass company was an absolute no, but the shoe company was interesting. A startup brand from Brooklyn, they had a lot of camel-colored slide sandals, and some suede. It said that their faux leather and materials were locally sourced, and the backstory of the owner of the company was interesting.
Responding that I’d be interested in receiving and reviewing a couple of pairs, I then combed through my social media for possible partnerships. Because building a brand wasn’t about sitting idly by and waiting for things to fall in your lap. It was about sending hundreds, thousands, of PR emails promoting yourself and your blog. However awkward it felt to contact a stranger and ask them to help you out, that’s essentially what you had to do. You could do it in a friendly and cordial way, but in the end, you had to do it.
And after a while, and about five hours sitting at the computer working, I just decided to stay at Reese’s. I made dinner for him, a simple spaghetti and frozen meatballs was about all I could whip up. But I did it. And I waited for him to get home.
Then I stayed the next day, when he had a day off. And the next morning, when he didn’t have to go in until his night shift.
We really brushed up on our “lovers” skills. I still detested the word, but for what went down between us the next two days … that was an accurate term.
Twenty-Nine
Reese
Because we were now a couple, we were in that stage where we wanted everyone else around us to also be a couple.
Why this unconscious setting up thing always happened, I wasn’t sure. Maybe it was because we were having great sex, and wanted our friends to be having great sex, too. With each other. Which, if you thought about it, was almost always a bad idea. These kinds of setups always ended in bitterness, and the friend talking shit about the other friend. And then your girlfriend was constantly bitching that your guy friend screwed her friend over …
Fuck. Was I creating a mess waiting to happen?
“Why are we setting two people up? We can barely function as a couple ourselves. Hell, it took almost twenty years for us to get together, I don’t think we have any business playing cupid.” Erin squeezes my hand, our fingers intertwined.
She was always reading my mind.
I shrug. “Maybe not, but Preston is single as fuck and never leaves the hospital. He needs to branch out. And you said Jill was ecstatic at the prospect of meeting a hot doctor, so …”
Erin raises an eyebrow at me. “You never introduced me to any hot doctors.”
“That’s because this hot nurse was keeping you all to himself.” I hug and shake her while using some self-deprecating humor toward myself.
Erin giggles and rolls her eyes. “God, that sounds so much sexier.”
Jill walked up at that moment, meeting us outside the Thai restaurant we’d all agreed on. I’d met her a few times while we were all in college, and I’d always liked Erin’s close friend. Mostly because Erin didn’t have a lot of other friends, and if she did, they were cool. Like me.
“I did not think I’d ever see the day.” Jill smiles, pointing to our interlaced hands.
I can feel Erin blush at the public display of embarrassment, something I insisted on. So instead of holding our conjoined hands up like I just won a prized boxing fight, I just grin.
“I finally got her to fall in love with me.”
I feel Erin bristle, because we have not said that four letter word in this context yet. But I’ve figured out, over the last few months, that if I don’t drag her along, she’ll never be ready for any of it.
“And I’m damn glad about that. The Ice Queen has a king … I’m so happy for you guys.” Jill grabs us in a tight group hug.
“Can we stop all of this touching? You’re both freaking me out,” Erin snips at us, annoyed.
Jill ignores her. “I’m just so happy for you guys. Okay, now prepare me for the hot doctor.”
She backs up, smooths down her dress, and looks at me like I am the Washington Press Secretary giving her a debrief. “Um … well, I won’t lie. He’s not the most social of guys, but he is nice and loves his job.”
Jill blinks, and Erin cuts in. “Not the most social of guys … what does that mean?”
I try to come up with something that sounds positive. “He uh … doesn’t really leave the hospital. Doesn’t have the best bedside manner but is a genius when it comes to the field of medicine. Isn’t interested in making friends.”
Well, I couldn’t do it.
Jill throws her hands up. “Great! You’re setting me up with Scrooge!”
Erin throws me a scowl and then pats Jill’s back. “Who knows, maybe he just doesn’t like Reese that much so he’s trying to blow him off.”
“Hey! Preston likes me, we’ve gotten beers together.”
My girl shakes her head. “You’re digging yourself deeper, carrots. Let’s go get our table, your friend is late.”
Ten minutes later, Preston hurries into the restaurant. At least he’s not wearing scrubs, but his jeans and polo are a little underdressed for this Thai place. Whatever, I’m surprised he didn’t cancel. Poor guy had sounded so freaked out when I suggested this double date.
“Hi, sorry I’m late. Emergency at the hospital.” He nods at me.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” My voice is all sarcasm, because he was probably contemplating whether he should actually come or not.
Preston sits down across from Jill, and I can tell he thought she was hot. His mouth practically hung open, he was staring at her lips, and for a guy whose hands were always steady, they were most definitely fidgeting.
Shit, he probably has no game, and I was sending him into the shark’s tank. Jill was whip-smart and had the confidence to back it up. I hope she went easy on him.
“Nice to meet you, Preston, I’m Erin. Reese is clearly too rude to introduce me, but I’ll just ignore him then.” Erin held her hand out for Preston to shake across the table.
He took it unsurely. “Uh, nice to meet you. But for the record, I don’t think Reese is rude. He’s extremely competent as a nurse, and always has patience fo
r anyone who comes into the NICU.”
Erin raises a brow at me. “Wow, how much did you pay him?”
I kiss her cheek, annoying her with the PDA. “I didn’t, he’s just that nice. And that literal.”
“You must be Jill, it’s very nice to meet you.” Preston focuses fully on Erin’s friend, and I can see instantly that she’s smitten with the hot doctor.
Erin and I exchange a glance where we sit across from each other, and I do an internal fist pump in celebration for my awesome pairing.
We order a round of drinks and appetizers, and Jill launches into a story about what happened on her latest flight.
“So I was going to see a client out in Texas, the flight was about four hours. Of course, the woman next to me takes off her shoes twenty minutes into the flight, no socks.”
Preston intervenes. “That’s highly unsanitary. Planes contain some of the highest germ counts you could ever encounter.”
Jill reaches for his hand, shaking it. “Thank you, right?! So gross.”
Preston looks at their joined hands and I swear, he blushes. For being such an introverted nerd, he definitely has feelings for the obnoxious but lovable extrovert sitting across from him.
“So then, like two hours into this flight, I hear her rustling around in her bag. And out she pulls … a bag of garlic, parmesan fries! On the plane! They were chilling in her bag for likes two hours, probably so soggy, and she’s stinking up the whole flight with them. People are so weird!”
We’re all laughing, with Erin clutching her stomach she’s cracking up so much.
“This one time, I was at medical conference, and I was in the bathroom during a break, and two doctors walked out after relieving themselves, without even washing their hands!” Preston stretches his hands out as if to demonstrate how gross their hands were.
I’m surprised he even told a story, because he’s usually not one to go out of his comfort zone and actively make conversation.
“Ew, that is gross! I always wonder if doctors or like, fast food workers actually wash their hands. You know those signs in the bathroom? Do they ever abide by them?” Jill and Preston begin a side conversation about disgusting habits, and I smile at Erin.
“Told you so,” I whisper, under my breath.
She shrugs, relenting. “Who knew?”
After dinner, Erin and I head out to the sidewalk, with Preston and Jill trailing behind, still deep in conversation.
“Would you like to go get a drink with me?” Preston asks her, and my jaw almost hits the floor.
He has to be really smitten with her to not want to head straight back to the hospital.
“Sure.” Jill blushes. “See you later guys.”
We all play the goodbye game, and then they’re off, single and ready to mingle.
“Wow, we are really good matchmakers. I mean, who would have known those two would work. I guess Jill found someone who doesn’t mind her rambling. Preston is nice. Kind of weird, but nice. Thanks for suggesting it.”
Erin pushes up on her toes and kisses me on the street, right there on the Philadelphia street. We walk back to my apartment with our arms linked around each other’s backs, and I bask in that new romance bliss.
Thirty
Reese
After two weeks of spending almost every day together—hey, a woman who ran her own business could work from anywhere, which was working for me—Erin and I knew we would have to tell our mothers.
If they found out that we were finally seeing each other by mistake, or knew we’d been hiding it for already as long as we had been, there would be some serious mom guilt thrown upon us.
That’s how we ended up at my parent’s front door, our hands laced together while I held a box of Italian cookies from my mom’s favorite bakery in my other hand.
Knocking, I looked over at Erin, who looked like she was sweating bullets. “You ready for this?”
She shrugged and looked nervous. “I guess we were going to have to tell them sooner or later. But, I just don’t think I’m ready for all of the high-pitched screaming.”
Before I can assure her for the fiftieth time, the other forty-nine happened in the car, my mom opens the door.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m so glad you came, I missed you … oh, Erin! I didn’t realize you were coming too! I’m so happy you’re here—”
Mom rambles for a little and we let her, all standing at the door, until she realizes that we’re holding hands. And not letting go. We just let her look at them until she lets out that high-pitched scream that Erin was afraid of.
“Stop. Stop it right now, Reese Maximus. Is this some sort of joke? Is this real? If this is real, I am going to sob. Don’t stop me if it is.”
And right there, she starts to cry actual tears of joy. I look at Erin and roll my eyes, and she shoots me an “I told you so” look. Mom does a giddy little jump and then rushes Erin, sweeping her into a big hug on my childhood front steps.
“Ah! I have been waiting for this day for such a long time. I honestly didn’t know if it would come, but how happy I am that it did! I am going to have a daughter. The daughter I always thought would be my daughter! Oh my gosh, Erin, I am so happy.” Mom is literally crying on her shoulder.
Erin is shooting me a look as if to say help me, and I pat Mom on the back. “All right, all right, calm down. Why don’t we go in and have some coffee? I brought your favorite cookies.”
Mom shoots up, looking like a lightbulb that just got an idea. “I have to tell your father. Chris!”
She ran into the house, leaving us to let ourselves in while she scuttled around for Dad. I inhaled the air of my parent’s house … it was always the same. Peppermint from the ever-growing bush my mom kept in the backyard to make tea from. The scent of my dad’s leather shoes that he still polished weekly. And French vanilla, my mom’s favorite candle that I bought her for Mother’s Day each year.
Erin and I walk into the kitchen, a place we spent many an hour while growing up. Whether it was snacks after school, lemonade in the summer after running around like maniacs, or late night munching after we’d gone to a high school party … I had so many memories with her in this kitchen.
“Remember the time that we tried to make nachos after that summer party between sophomore and junior year of college?” Erin chuckles.
“Yeah and the woman who doesn’t know how to cook forgot to put cheese on them before putting them in the microwave. They just turned out to be really hot, soft chips,” I tease her.
“Well, at least you knew my résumé before you started dating me. Cooking is a definite shortcoming.”
“It’s okay, most of my meals are eaten in the hospital anyhow, and I never cared that you hate to cook. Although, I think I could find some nice things to do with ice cream and you. Or whipped cream and you. Or chocolate syrup and you.” I wink at her, careful to show my dimple as well.
Erin blushes and swats at me. “Shut up, your parents are going to hear you.”
Just as she says it, my parents walk into the kitchen. Dad shakes my hand and hugs Erin. “Your mom is making a fuss that you two are dating. Wasn’t this a thing that’s been going on a long time?”
My father was always a great dad, even if he missed some of the more minute details. “Uh, no, Dad, we’ve just been really good friends up until now. But yes, we are dating now.”
Mom squeals again. “Oh my, does Barbara know yet? Let me get her over here!”
Erin places a hand on my mom’s and shakes her head. “I know you’re excited and we are too. But … just let me tell her on my own, okay?”
We’d discussed this when we talked about coming home to tell my parents. Barbara was … fragile. Even five years after the divorce, you couldn’t announce a wedding or a baby around her without careful consideration of how the discussion would go down. I remember she didn’t get out of bed for a week after Morgan had announced her engagement. She was so wrapped up in her failure of marriage that she couldn’t be happy
for her own daughter.
“Probably for the best, dear.” Mom pats Erin’s hand and looks at her like she invented sliced bread. “Chris, aren’t they just the most magnificent thing you’ve ever seen? When do I get a grandbaby?”
Erin practically chokes on the glass of iced tea Dad had set down in front of her, and I have to laugh. “Mom, give us a hot second.”
She pouts, taking a pound cake out of that glass thing that always sat on the counter. “I’ve waited thirty years for this moment, and you two took long enough.”
“Leave them be, honey. The kids are happy, can we settle with that for now?” My dad, always the voice of reason, rubbed her shoulders.
“Fine, but I want weekly dinner. We haven’t seen you enough since you’ve been back, and now that Morgan has the baby, I bet you’ll all be in the suburbs more.”
Erin smiles at her, and I remember how close they are. She’s practically her second mother, and I realize that it’s never felt right introducing other women to my parents because it was always meant to be Erin.
“You’ve got yourself a deal. Just don’t make me pinky promise, because that may take a while to come to fruition.”
And then Erin looks at me and winks.
Can she even imagine how crazy I am about her?
Thirty-One
Erin
Now that I no longer had a day job, just a twenty-four seven, hustle-my-ass-off job, I was free to do things in the middle of the day.
Like go to the dentist, or get my moles checked … two things that working people definitely could not do since those places only stayed open until five or six. When I had my job at the Journal, I don’t think I went to the dentist for a year. That’s gross … but who has time to take off work to get their teeth cleaned? Certainly not me.
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