Indecision

by Brittany Fuller

  “Thirsty?” I ask, hoping to distract her thoughts, though knowing it’s a long shot. I know that until I spill and tell her everything, this night is not destined to progress any further.

  The silence is deafening. I choose to continue to ignore her rather than cave. Grabbing a half-empty bottle of red wine, I divide the rest of it between the two glasses. Drinking from my own glass as I return to Gwen in the living room, I try to quickly plot a way to avoid the topic.

  Still standing in the same spot, arms still folded, and still waiting for an answer as to who Noah is and what’s going on between the two of us, Gwen judgmentally stares me down. Extending the other glass to my best friend, I’m not surprised when she refuses to take it and remains in her stance. I begin wondering who will break first as I proceeded to take sip after sip of my wine and debate starting on Gwen’s glass if we stand there long enough for me to reach the bottom of my own. Gwen breaks first.

  “So … who’s the sex on a stick that was groping my best friend harder and faster than a horny thirteen-year-old boy?”

  I choke on my wine, spewing some out into the air. Gwen grabs her glass angrily, waiting for my response. Her eyebrows shoot up, eyes wide, waiting for an answer. She purses her lips. Crossing her arms again, she waits for me to answer.

  “It wasn’t that bad,” I say, wiping my mouth with my hand and looking to make sure I haven’t spit wine out on my shirt.

  “Evelyn, if I hadn’t walked in when I did, you’d be working on baby numero uno with Mr. Sexy Tall Dark and Handsome! Oh my God, Ev, the man is gorgeous!” she squeals. “Like almost too good looking! So not cool, girl. It’s not like you to not tell me stuff. You’ve always told me everything, and I didn’t know about this!” she shouts, starting the lecture I knew was scratching at the surface the moment she walked through my front door and found me practically baring it all for a guy she does not remember.

  “Like how new is he?” she continues as I begin to walk towards the living room. “I mean, I know it’s been a while for you, but … girl, that doesn’t mean you can be stupid! THINK! STDs! Screw that! Babies … babies with strangers! Strangers that won’t stick around to play house, or daddy or make an honest woman out of you!”

  I roll my eyes and walk further into the living room as Gwen follows. Calming a little bit, she finally takes a sip of her wine before continuing.

  “Who is he? And why the hell did I not know about this? This is incredibly important and very valuable information you’ve been withholding from me, especially if you’re debating getting serious with whoever he is! What did you say his name was?”

  We circle around the couch and take a seat side by side. I debate giving Gwen the long answer, though settle for the short, hoping the less information I give the shorter this interrogation will be.

  “His name is Noah,” I answer, taking a bigger gulp of wine than necessary and waiting for the next round. I can take a guess at where this is headed and need to self-medicate if I’m right.

  “Noah! Like who is named Noah anymore anyway. Or ever for that matter! I’ve never heard of that kind of name. Noah!”

  She drinks her wine, and we sit there in silence for a moment. I start to think maybe she will let up, but the wheels in her head are still obviously turning. I know I have no chance at this ending anytime soon.

  “This means … I don’t think he can be trusted. With a name like Noah … honestly! Like, does he build boats too?” Gwen says, pressing the issue.

  “Oh, stop it! You’re too damn judgmental of people all the time.” I snap, annoyed and not wanting to discuss the matter further.

  “Fine, then.” The irritation is evident in her voice. “Well … what do you know about the guy? Where did he go to school? What’s his favorite color? Favorite band? Favorite food? Best friend?” Her questioning continues.

  “He’s best friends with Rex,” I quietly answer into my wine glass, needing a little more help with what I know is coming next.

  “Hell no! Rex! That has all sorts of wrong written all over it! Rex of all people? Evelyn, you should know better!” She’s shouting now, and even though I’ve never fully understood why, I know enough that Rex is a sensitive topic with her.

  “Come on! He’s not that bad.” I try to smooth things over. “Talk about me withholding information. You ever going to tell me why you’ve almost always had this hatred towards Rex?”

  Gwen shoots off the couch and walks into the kitchen. “We are talking about you, remember? Not me. Stop avoiding the questions.”

  “Me avoiding? That’s the pot calling the kettle black if I ever heard it,” I yell over my shoulder.

  “I’m not listening,” she shouts back as I hear another bottle of wine being opened. She returns to me sitting on the couch, filling up her glass first and then mine.

  “Be nice, or I won’t tell you anything,” I say quickly, succeeding in shutting her up. If there is one thing that gets her to stop it’s the threat of being shut out from gossip. Gwen looks down at her glass and takes another sip, drawing out the moment she takes time to think before responding.

  “It’s just been a long time since I’ve seen you with anyone. And hell, I’ve never seen you with anyone like that,” she says.

  I laugh. She’s right. We’ve seen each other in some pretty compromised situations, but I am sure that topped them all.

  “I’m serious, Ev,” my best friend continues. “I’m talking more than just the raging hormones and groping that I walked in on … I’m talking about that spark!”

  My eyes shoot up and I look at Gwen, who is already staring at me.

  “Holy hell, lady! I could feel that shit and I wasn’t even the one that started the fire.” She fans herself and lets out a whistle. “Even when you guys stopped, it was like you were still going at it. I was uncomfortable just being in the room with you two. Like I was still intruding.”

  “You were!” I laugh. “How long were you standing there watching?”

  “Long enough,” she says, looking me in the eyes. Something in her expression has changed. A sadness fills her face, and for the first time, I see heartbreak there. Something I haven’t seen since she lost her sister. “I just want to make sure that you’re not getting in over your head. You’re a strong woman, lady, I know that. But you have dreams and plans. I just don’t want to see a guy come along and make you change your mind. Even if the guy might ooze more sex appeal than Justin Timberlake and Ryan Gosling combined!”

  I laugh knowingly as she reaches over and squeezes my knee. “Good Lord, woman, I’m not joking. It’s like Paul Newman’s eyes on Channing Tatum’s body with James Dean’s rugged good looks.”

  I giggle, taking another sip of wine.

  “I’m not gonna lie, I would totally take even like the smallest slice of that three way.” I begin to laugh even harder when she doesn’t ease up on her comparisons. “I mean hell, he’s like Chris Pine mixed with a little Tom Hardy then rolled into Elvis Presley’s ‘it just comes natural to be this sexy’ kinda swagger.” I laugh even harder. “I’m not lying! I saw the way he rolls his hips girl,” she continues, starting to giggle herself. “Shit, he could ‘love me tender’ all night long! Or rough! Hell, beggars can’t be choosers!”

  I’m now laughing hysterically, and she joins in right along with me.

  “Lord, I missed you lady,” I say, catching my breath.

  She smiles at me as we sit there silently, knowing how much our friendship means to one another without having to say another word. My mind slowly drifts back to the words she’s just said. Not the long list of ways she compared Noah to some of the amazing men we have always admired, but her words before that … I reluctantly find myself letting them play over and over again in my mind.

  Sure, he’s sexy, and God only knows how bad I want him. But I have never let anyone or anything stop me from pursuing anything before. I don’t intend to stop now. I have no intention of letting this beautiful distraction stop me from the plans that
I have had in place a long time before we ever crossed paths, no matter how strong our chemistry is.

  When I still haven’t spoken after a few minutes, Gwen decides to switch speeds. Getting up from the couch, she starts once again towards the kitchen.

  “So, are we going out? Because I’m starving!”

  “Oh my God, the groceries,” I exclaim, remembering the groceries are still sitting in my car.

  Jumping to my feet, I’m thankful it’s cold outside and they most likely haven’t spoiled. I grab my coat and keys and hurry out the door, down the stairs and to my car. Opening the trunk, I grab the few bags I had bought and rush back inside. The night has cooled off quickly. Even with a coat, it is much cooler outside than it was in SoCal a week ago.

  Setting the bags on the counter, I begin unloading the perishables into the fridge when Gwen slams the cupboard door she was looking in and turns around to face me.

  “Screw this!” Gwen exclaims as I put the last of the items in the fridge. “We’re going out! Get dressed!”

  “Gwen, I can’t go out! I have to work in the morning.” I try to reason with her.

  “Whatever, stop being such a grandma.” She makes her way towards the living room, grabs her bag and heads down the hallway.

  “If you’re going off the market soon, I’m making sure to enjoy every last second until then.”

  “I never said I was thinking about getting serious—” I start to say.

  “Save it! I already contacted Uber. Fifteen minutes, lady! Is that club of your brother’s still as swanky as I remember?”

  I can hear her rummaging through her bag and roll my eyes as I make my way down the hallway. Not only do I not want to go out tonight, but I definitely am not in the mood for Gatsby’s. Glancing into the spare room, I see Gwen holding up a scrap of fabric that can hardly be called a dress.

  “You know it is November in Northern California. Have you forgotten you’re not at the beach?” I ask.

  She ignores me, grabs some gold stilettos out of her bag and turns to start dressing. Continuing down the hallway, I have no idea what to wear and no desire to be anywhere near an environment like Gatsby’s. Opening up my closet, I pause briefly as I start to realize that maybe Noah is making more of an impression on me than I thought.

  Evelyn

  One drink … maybe two max. A couple dances, and then I promise I am pulling Gwen away from this place as fast as I can. Staring out the window as our driver nears Gatsby’s, I watch the trees’ silhouettes in the moonlight. Glancing up, the stars barley shine through the clouds in the sky. The air is crisp enough outside to cause goose bumps on my skin even though there is no window open.

  It is 8:45 p.m. and I would rather be in bed, not dressed up midweek about to brave the largest singles playground this side of San Francisco. The type of place people typically go only looking for a one-night stand. Gwen’s face is plastered to her phone as she sits next to me in the backseat of this little car. She barley notices when we arrive, and finally looks up, surprised, as we come to a stop in front of the club. Paying the driver, I brace myself before stepping out into the November evening.

  Gwen rounds the car and links her arm in mine quickly. Squealing like a schoolgirl, she looks up at the big neon sign flashing across the top of the building. Two bouncers flank each side of the doors and a line of about seventy-five people wait in the cold to my left.

  “Hells yes, let’s do this,” Gwen exclaims as we walk towards the front. I’m a little timid while she’s much more enthusiastic.

  The bouncer, Troy, another one of my brother’s longtime friends, walks forward to greet us. Even though he is not as close of a friend to my brother as Rex, he’s always been around throughout the years. They trio was sort of like the Three Musketeers when we were all in high school.

  “Hey, Ev,” he says. “Gwen, it’s been a while. How long are you visiting for?”

  Ever the flirt, Gwen jumps at any chance to warm up to Troy. I can’t say I blame her. If he wasn’t such good friends with my brother, I’d be doing the same. Troy stands at almost six-six, blond hair, blue eyes, and the time he spent in the service as a Navy SEAL enhances all the rest of his best assets.

  “As long as you want me to be, handsome,” she says and wraps him in a big hug. “Missed you, big guy. Glad to see you aren’t off on another tour.”

  He kisses the top of her head in a brotherly type way before saying, “Nope, not yet. I’m sure it won’t be long before I am called upon again, but for now I get to look at you gorgeous creatures come and go all night.”

  “Very funny,” I say, swatting him playfully as he steps back to open the doors for us. I hear annoyed muttering behind us that we don’t have to wait in line like the rest of them. “Is my brother here yet?”

  “Haven’t seen him. Although, he could be in there somewhere,” Troy says.

  “Ok, thanks. I’ll keep my eye out,” I say as Troy grabs one door handle and the other bouncer, a new guy I haven’t met yet, grabs the other door. He gives me a shy nod, and I smile back.

  “You ladies have fun,” Troy says while he winks at Gwen and she proceeds to blow him a kiss. I ignore them both as the doors open and all other sounds quiet to the deafening beat of music that begins to fill the night around us. Taking a few short steps inside, I decide to at least try and have a good time as the doors close behind us.

  The air is thick, and the smell of alcohol and expensive perfume hangs in it like a fog. Steps cascade in front of us down onto a dance floor already busting at the seams with people. The largest of three bars sits in the back of the lower level, and I can see at least five bartenders hurriedly making drinks for a line that’s three people deep and extends down the whole massive bar top.

  A DJ spins music directly across from us, above the bar on the second floor in one of the most elaborate booths anyone has ever seen. The floor wraps around the building, creating a balcony for the second floor to look down at the first. Behind us are stairs on both sides leading up to a third floor held mostly for VIP events.

  The third floor is lush with expensive couches and even more expensive decor while the second floor has cozy little sitting spots tucked away throughout. The bottom floor is where most of the people hang out and remains standing and dancing room only.

  A remix to the Justin Timberlake song “Lovestoned” blares through my ears, loud enough where if I didn’t already know the words, I wouldn’t be able to make them out. I descend the steps slowly as Gwen turns it into a scene from a music video, dancing her way down each one with almost too much energy. Laughing, I try to shake my annoyance off and ease into the atmosphere. Maybe a night out is just what I need.

  “Drinks first,” she yells out. “Let’s go!”

  Grabbing my hand, she pulls me out onto the dance floor and pushes our way through the crowd. Not caring and oblivious to the annoyed looks of strangers, she continues through as I apologize to everyone we bump into. Making it to the other side of the dance floor, we stop for a moment and take in the line for drinks in front of us, debating what the best course of action is. We both stand there sensing defeat as the night has barely even started.

  “Well this sucks,” she says. “Maybe we should order two or three at one time so we don’t have to come back.”

  No sooner has the comment left her lips I feel a hand slip around my waist. Gwen obviously feels it too because we both jump and look towards one another to see Rex’s face emerge between us.

  “Don’t touch me with those hands,” Gwen yells, swatting him away. “I don’t know what whore they were on last!”

  He laughs, grabbing her hand and pulling her back to him. “You know, if you want my hands all over you, Gwenie, you don’t have to beg in front of company sweetheart,” he says, winking suggestively at her. She rolls her eyes, looking back at me, unable to form an immediate comeback.

  “When are you going to stop hanging out with this loser? His pickup lines get worse and worse every time I have the
unfortunate pleasure of seeing him,” she tells me. “And I thought I told you to stop calling me that ridiculous nick name years ago,” she sneers at him.

  “Behave yourself, Gwenie. I’m all you need tonight to quench your thirst,” he says, gazing down her body. “Come on.” He grabs us both and starts towards the bar.

  The music changes, and Pharrell and Jay-Z’s “Frontin’” remix fills the room as we follow Rex around to the back of the bar. He lifts the side counter and ushers us behind the bar with him. I notice as he leaves his hand a little too long on Gwen’s back, and she shoots him an evil glare, which makes him laugh and only eggs him on even more.

  Pushing his way into the mix, the workers behind the bar clear for him. The power of being an owner is unmistakable as he grabs two tall glasses and turns back to face us.

  “What’s your pleasure?” he asks us both, but only locks eyes with Gwen.

  “Not that I will ever let you be the cause of my pleasure, but make mine an old fashioned,” she says.

  I laugh at the way Gwen acts like a child, knowing full well that Rex is eating it up like candy. He loves this type of behavior in a sick way. Smiling, he glances my way.

  Knowing I better stick to what I was drinking before we left, I say, “Red wine, thanks.”

  He mixes Gwen’s drink, and I notice he makes it a little stronger than he should. He then pours me a more than decent size glass of Cabernet. Glancing up, he starts flirting with a brunette across the bar, and I notice Gwen shift on her feet next to me, clearly annoyed.

  “Are you finished yet,” she snaps at him.

  Pausing a moment, he slowly picks up the drinks and turns towards us. Gwen snatches hers and turns to walk away.

  “Didn’t know you preferred it fast and quick, Gwenie. I’ll remember that for next time,” he says towards her back.