Where Would I Be Without You

by Hawk, CJ

  I let him off the hook quickly with a teasing laughter. "Who says I need a night off? Work goes so much better if I know I have a boyfriend to come home to."

  "Then we should make plans for Thursday and Friday." He smiled over at me with a serious look to his face. Could he be feeling what I was feeling? It was as if neither of us could not get enough of each other.

  "That would be nice." My voice trailed with the word nice on an elongated note.

  We did not decide right then and there about what to do; it was as if just knowing we were going to do something together that made both of us relax and polish off two pieces of cake and two more glasses of milk. When we were done, he cleared the plates and glasses and began to wash them off in the sink with dish soap and set them on the dish rack next to the sink.

  I had to tease. "You know, watching you do dishes is like porn for a woman, only it would be more erotic if your shirt was off."

  He stopped washing a glass, set it back in the sink, and took his shirt off and flung it towards me, almost knocking the lit candle over. We both started to laugh at my quick reflexes to grab the shirt in midair with my left hand while catching the lit candle in my right. I blew both candles out and watched him turn back around to the sink. As soon as he did, I held his shirt up to my nose and breathed in deep. His cologne scent of something fresh was on it mixed with the smell of his skin that intoxicated me. Without him turning, he talked to me with his back to me.

  "I saw that in the window reflection." Then he turned to me, soapy dishcloth in one hand, chocolate-covered fork in the other, and a very nice set of muscular abs and chest muscles that made me swoon. Through his window was one thing, in my kitchen doing dishes, I was in trouble.

  "You look busted." He joked.

  "I feel busted. That's not me. A normal me. Smelling your clothes." Then I paused. I might as well warn him now. "Ok. I... I have a secret." I raised one eyebrow and looked at him with my head diverted down but my eyes slightly looking up at him with my head tilted. He seemed to be waiting patiently for my secret. I finally got out the words. "I don't always do the common sense thing. Sometimes I do really stupid things. Maybe even immature." The last word eked out of me slow and long.

  He shrugged his shoulders and tossed the fork in the sink. "Who doesn't." Then he walked over, motioned for me to stand. I did, and then he picked me up while I started to giggle, and he carried me to the kitchen countertop. He set my butt on the counter and stood between my legs with my head in his hands. "Where would I be without you right now? Sitting on my couch watching the game? Trolling on the Internet for a girlfriend? Fixing some old farts whatever that is broken? Instead, I am here with you, and you are the most mature thing I want to think about. I've done a lot of stupid things in my life, ask my father. The night I put you to sleep naked in your bed after watching you do whatever it was that you were doing; I couldn't stop thinking about you. You are real, and I like what is happening here."

  I said it as I felt it. "Gulp."

  "Sorry too much, too soon." He sounded worried, but I wasn't. What he just said made a hell of a lot of sense. We were two lost souls looking for our mate, and fate put us across the building from each other. I would have wanted the first time he met me not to be a drunk naked passed out stupor, yet he didn't hold that against me. I needed to tell him everything, about Steve, my mom's control and inability to love me just as I am, my need to have Marion in every part of my life, which meant he would have to love her just as much, and my crazy aunt, my perfect sister, all of it. For now, I grabbed his head, slammed my lips against his, and began kissing him with all the craziness I felt deep inside of me; that feeling caused tangling tongue and heavy breathing.

  It took several minutes before I realized that things were going to progress too far, too soon, and we both knew that taking this a bit slower was better for making something out of this. I felt his excitement, and I knew my own was off the charts molten mess. We both seemed to pull away at the same time, and we pressed our foreheads against each other while breathing hard. I finally found the words to speak up.

  "I think I should be the one to question, where would I be without you? My common sense doesn't become me. It takes me for a joyride from time to time, and I end up in a lot of trouble. I have a confession to make."

  He laughed at my reference. "What is it?"

  "Well. You may not like this. Ok. Here it goes. Tomorrow, after I am officially thirty, I need to act more grown up. Be responsible. Take a college class. Volunteer. Do things that are thought through and not spur of the moment, 'hey that seems like a great idea'. I think you might find me rather dull after I turn thirty."

  He laughed with a soft sound and then held my face as he looked into my eyes. "Doubt it. But hey, if you need a support group in this new challenge, I'm up for it."

  It was as if the gates of heaven opened up, and a spotlight shined down on him while angels sang, and heavenly music cued in. Therefore, I looked at him questioningly and asked. "Really? You want to help me be a better person?"

  "Only if you do. I like you the way you are, and I googled you. Sorry, force of habit. Had a few crazy girlfriends in my past; you think your Steve guy is crazy, I can one up him. Besides I couldn't take you on Sunday to meet my parents if I didn't. House rules for all of us kids. Besides, I could do a little growing up on my own. Maybe we could help each other out."

  I was shocked. Ok. Not about the Google thing because it was almost a prerequisite to dating anymore. Perhaps I would not be in so much trouble if I had done that with Steve. Admitting to crazy girlfriends didn't shock me because with his looks and the way he carries himself, I was sure he attracted everything, even the odd ones. It was the fact that he already wanted me to meet his parents. He talked about how formal his family was as we tried to create a diversion last night from other things. Talking family seemed to quickly cool both of us down. It felt good to be with a man whose family was as judgmental, competitive, and crazy as mine, although his did seem to have a lot more money and structure. I guess you don't have to be poor to be dysfunctional, rich people do it just as well.

  "Hey Mason. I'm glad things are turning out much better for me. Only a week ago, things were a bit different."

  He lifted me off the counter and set me on my feet. "We should probably try to find another distraction for a bit, before we get too excited again." I had to agree. I found him a bit too irresistible, and talking about life seems to put things back into perspective for us.

  I grabbed his hand to pull him towards my front room to try out the new window seat cushion. He grabbed his tee shirt off the chair as we walked by. We sat down in the window seat facing each other and looked at each other in the face. I felt my demon girl side get bothered by the fact he put his shirt back on, as my mature woman side agreed, it was for the best.

  "Your sister has good taste. It's soft, and I like the blue silky fabric."

  "I told her that your favorite color is blue."

  I looked at him inquisitively. "How did you know that?"

  "Blue curtains, light blue couch, blue comforter and when I folded your laundry, most of your clothes were in shades of blue. My sisters told me that a woman's favorite color would show in her clothes and how she decorates. Having three sisters, I do learn a lot about women."

  I laughed. "Then you are already broken in and know the game rules. Gosh, you're going to be an easy boyfriend. Wait here. I am going to grab some cushions to lean against instead of the wall."

  I walked over to my couch to grab some decorative cushions off, and before I could turn back around to walk over to the window seat, Mason stood there right in front of me. He pulled my body into his, causing me to drop the pillows, and he started to kiss me. When he pulled back, he joked. "Not a good idea to bend over in front of me right now."

  We both stood there staring at each other with an internal battle of taking this date so much further. Then I spoke. "Well, I'm not officially grown up until tomorrow."


  He replied without hesitation. "Yet, something tells me we might want to wait a few more nights. You mean more to me than an overnight quickie."

  "Really?" I was taken aback. A man was stopping me from being stupid.

  "Besides. One day to thirty is just a day. If you really want to do the mature thing, not that I do, but I know it will be better for both of us if we did, then waiting a few more days would be better, don't you think?"

  So it's now that I meet the mature man I need in my life, yet all I wanted to do was something stupid like sleep with him sexually on only our second date. I knew it never ended well sleeping with a man too soon. However, with the kind of sexual attraction we both seemed to be having, how could I wait? I plopped my butt down on the couch in my work pants and Crawley blue polo shirt and crossed my arms in front of me, started my pouting routine and breathed out a huge puff of air.

  He let out a light laughter and sat next to me. "It's not so bad. You're Catholic, I'm Catholic, although from the sounds of it, we both don't practice it. It's just something about you makes me want to establish something more. I guess what I have to tell you next might make sense as to why I am doing this." He paused for a big intake of breath. "My last four girlfriends ended poorly. All of which were more sexual attractions then any friendship. I jumped in with guns loaded and fired. In other words, it was nothing more than sex. With you, I feel it. The connection. The desire to make it more than just sex. I guess we could blame my sister and her Catholic lecture of don't you dare, and you better wait and make sure. Kind of lame, especially for a man my age?"

  I took a second to think about that, and I turned my body towards him then looked at him straight in the face. "Not really. Actually, it's pretty smart and self-controlled. Something I lack a lot of at times. Hey..." I reached out and held his hand. "Let's pick a number and tell ourselves that if we make it to that date number than we can lift the restriction of sex. What's your favorite number?"

  "Two but that would make it tonight." He flashed a wicked smile and winked.

  "Ugh. Ok. Mine is two too." We both started to laugh. Then I asked. "Pick a number between one and twenty."

  "Twenty. That's too long to ask me to wait." He looked shocked, and I started to laugh.

  "Seven. Luck be a lady that night. Date seven and if we decide that night that we can be mature adults after, well you know, then we will have a go at it."

  "Oh I won't just have a go at it; I will conquer and succeed."

  "Men!" I could not put much more thought into that comment because he started to kiss me and wrap me up into his arms. When he pulled away, he pulled me into his body on the couch while sitting; I clicked on the TV and asked what he liked to watch. He replied with a simple 'anything with you', so I handed him the remote. Not that I would always do that, but we were just starting out on this dating thing. I had an impression to make.

  Chapter Seven

  At ten eleven a.m. today, while sitting at my desk at work and watching the seconds click by on the big office clock on the wall, I officially turned thirty. I had a wave of somberness come over me, and then a floral delivery came with a huge bouquet of blue and white flowers. The card from Mason simply read: Happy Birthday. Whatever feeling was in my soul about getting older faded away with the possibilities of a thing happening between Mason and myself. I decided then and there that the Steve's of the world were long out of my life, and I was marching forth with my plan of maturity now and with any luck with Mason's help as he indicated.

  Just as I was thinking about the future Mrs. Montahue, which would be me, striving forward with an education, charitable duties, and a drop-dead gorgeous husband with possible kids on the way, a familiar voice dropped me out of the clouds.

  "Amber dear, I thought it might be nice if you and I had lunch today for your birthday." There, before me, in my five by five cubicle, with a voice that could duplicate nails on a chalkboard if she so desired, was my mom. All five feet three inches of her and short brown hair with a lot of gray showing through, donning a very nice pastel blue dress as if she was going to church, stood the woman I had not bothered to call back since Sunday night's fiasco. It seemed so long ago as Mason had been filling my every moment with thoughts of could he be and what ifs and oh my, I shouldn't be thinking of doing that at a time like this.

  Her voice jumped an octave cheerier, if that was possible, as I had yet to respond to her standing here in my office. "Oh my! What lovely flowers. Who's Mason?" She had to question because not reading the card of whom the flowers were from was not an option for my mother. Oh good jest, this was going to be one heck of a lunch.

  "Mom?" I finally found my voice. "What a lovely surprise. I wasn't expecting you." I did not answer if I could go to lunch because I was racking my brain for something, anything, to come up with as an excuse.

  "Darling. You haven't called me back since everything that happened on Sunday." She whispered the words as soon as she got to the word 'since', as if everything that happened on Sunday should be a huge secret. Which it was. Except for those that were there and Mason getting the short edited version.

  "About that, mom." I cleared my throat as it felt as if it was restricted and my eyes felt crossed. With the way my mom was patiently waiting for me to say something next, they probably were. "The thing is..." Just as I was about to babble out more than three dozen words of nonsense, Bethany rounded the corner in a navy blue power suit.

  "Good. You're here. I was hoping I would catch you two. Mom called me last night to tell me she was going to surprise you for lunch. I wanted to beat her here, but I had a meeting." She looked powerful in her suit and professional brown hair cut with her two-inch sensible heels. Are those? They can't be; they'd set her back at least $600 for the pair. Those are some seriously cute professional heels. The navy leather looks like butter. I wonder if she got them wholesale and if she'll let me wear them sometime.

  My mother's voice interrupted my thoughts that had diverted to Bethany's adorable professional heels away from everything else. "Darling. Why would you want to beat me here? I told you I wanted to have a private lunch with just your sister." Ok, so now I am just Bethany's sister, not my mother's daughter. And why private? Unless that is, she was going to ruin my birthday by berating me about college and dating a married man. That, I was sure was her plan. I owed Bethany HUGE, since I knew she had a busy schedule with her new position and the last thing she needed to deal with was my mama drama, even if it is her mom too.

  Before I could say anything, my inner office phone intercom beeped with my boss's voice. "Amber? Can you come in here real quick?" I picked up the phone so that his voice was not echoing out over the office.

  "Sup?" My boss was four years younger than me, with a business management degree, and wore baggie jeans, large graphic tee shirts, baseball hats sideways with stickers still on them, and large gold chains. He was part of the reason that I joked around playing like a gangster sometimes. Over my shoulder, I could hear my mother chiming in about the improper way I answered the phone. If she only knew, but explaining it would only take too much energy.

  I hung up the phone with a smile on my face and a shrug to my shoulders in the direction of my mom and sister. "He needs to see me in his office before I can run out to lunch with you two. Be right back."

  Bethany was already on her phone punching in something or other while my mom was talking to her about why she did not hear her correctly about wanting a private lunch versus asking my sister to join her. Bethany held her ground but never looked her in the eyes. As I walked towards my boss's office just thirty feet down the cubical hallway, I heard Bethany reply. "Are you sure mom? Because I distinctly remember you asking me to come, otherwise why would I? I am super busy at work."

  Then I stopped in my tracks on the way to my boss's office and hide two cubicles down just to hear my mom's reply. "Oh dear, I know you are. I must have been so frazzled that I forgot to mention. It's quite alright. I am glad you are here." I stood up from my hiding
spot and walked briskly towards my boss's office, angry that my mom always let Bethany off the hook, angrier that she wanted to ruin my birthday by talking to me about junk. Because that is what it felt like, a bunch of stuff that just did not need to be talked about. I am thirty now for gosh sakes, and if I am going to make mistakes, I do not want my mother's input on it.

  I opened my boss's door and there stood a man all of five foot one, oriental persuasion, baggie logo'd jeans, and matching tee shirt, only two gold chains today; he must have been in a rush to get to work and no hat. No Crawly work shirt, which was typically a no-no, but he was the boss, so he got away with his current dress code that he considered dressed up for the job. Add to the fact that he had some kind of mohawk haircut going on that was all held back like a ponytail to the back of his head. "Amber!" He was excited to see me. I walked in, closed his glass door to his glass office that overlooked the production floor.

  "What's sup?" I plopped down in an old green leather chair and relaxed my body.

  "Happy Birthday!" He stood over his desk, but not by much height, as they had never found him a smaller desk for his tiny pint-size body. He looked over to me from something he was looking at on his desk. "Was that your mom and sister I saw out there?"

  "God. Yes. She wants to take me to lunch. Berate me that I haven't quit my job and gone to college." My boss, Mr. wannabe gangster but goes by the name of Wally Woo, knew all about my life, even about Steve. I had sent him an early inner office memo that I was passing off my new beau Mason, as Steve. He sent me back a short comment. 'You work fast'. Wally Woo was cool that way. He got it. All of it. The over bearing parent, the better than me sister, the boyfriend issues and if I wasn't mistaken he was about to help me out.

  "Well. Here. Happy Birthday. Show this to your mom." He handed me a packet, and I looked at it.