“Yes,” Marissa answered politely.
“She’s such a nice girl,” continued Mrs. Smith. “She had such a crush on Nick when they were teenagers. I hope she finds a boyfriend. You wouldn’t happen to know anyone would you?”
“Martha,” Jim Smith interrupted, “I think Samira has to get back to work now.”
“Oh, of course,” said Martha Smith, “me and my big mouth. Just ignore me dear. Go, work.”
Marissa giggled a little. Thank God the restaurant was busy.
When Marissa brought Nick’s parents their check and they had paid, Martha Smith grabbed Marissa’s hand, “Please come to our house for Thanksgiving dinner,” she requested.
Marissa was taken aback. “Thank you for the invitation. But you see, my parents are divorced. So I always have to divide my time between them on the holidays. I’m sorry.”
Martha Smith still held on, “Then come on the Friday after Thanksgiving for leftovers.”
Marissa felt that if she didn’t accept, Nick’s mother would never let go of her hand. “Sure, thank you. That would be nice.”
This time Martha let go and Marissa picked up the book which held the check. “Thank you so much for coming. It was great to see you again.” And she meant it.
As she filed away the check, Marissa noticed that Nick’s parents had left her twenty dollars. For a forty-five dollar check, a tip of that amount was unheard of. She was thankful for their generosity but she also wondered what they had meant by giving her such a large sum.
Once the dining room cleared out a bit, Chip came up to compliment her, “You handled your section very well tonight.”
“I didn’t feel like I did,” admitted Marissa disregarding the compliment.
“But these nights are the best,” said Chip with excitement. “How much did you make?”
Marissa hadn’t even thought about that, “Here let me count. Um, I think I made close to hundred and fifty dollars.”
“See, there you go. You’re that much closer to California.” Then he whispered, “So what are you going to do about teacher boy, once you head off to Cali?”
Marissa winced, “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll ask him to come with me.”
Chip straightened up and said, “Speaking of the devil. There’s your handsome man.” He leaned over and whispered almost inaudibly into Marissa’s ear, “He is so delicious. Are you sure he isn’t gay?”
Marissa whacked him with a dishtowel then walked over to greet Nick who stood with his hands stuffed into his pockets whistling a tune. “Hi,” she said coyly. “I’ve got to change out of this thing and then we can go.”
Nick smiled at her and glanced at his watch, “Take your time. I’m a little early. “
As he escorted her out to the car Marissa said, “You came in and waited. You’re not afraid of people seeing us together anymore?”
“Like hell I’m not. But I decided to come and pick you up tonight as I would any other date. If someone sees us from St. Mary’s, we’ll have a hell of a lot of explaining to do. But I’m taking that risk.”
Hearing those words made Marissa feel warm inside.
“Plus it was worth seeing you in uniform,” he smiled slyly.
“Speaking of uniforms, did you know that your parents were coming to the restaurant tonight?”
“Yes I did.”
“Why didn’t you warn me?” Marissa whined.
“I didn’t have time. When they called, you were already at work. How did it go?”
“O.K. I ripped off my nametag and the hostess just thought they were confused about my name. They left me a twenty dollar tip, Nick.”
“O.K.,” sighed Nick. “Now my parents are trying to buy me a mate.”
“Do you think that’s what they were doing?” asked Marissa in disbelief.
“No,” he answered honestly. “I think they were just being generous. They know waitresses don’t make that much and since you are my… well they were just being kind.”
She noticed that he didn’t say ‘girlfriend’ this time. Had he changed his mind? She wondered.
“Are you ready for Ann’s house?” he asked changing the subject.
“More like nervous,” she answered.
Nick leaned over and kissed her passionately on the lips. “Everything will be fine.”
Ann lived on the second floor of an apartment building. Since she had just graduated from law school, the furnishings reflected that of a poor college student. The ambiance was casual and the people were laid back. Nick explained to her that most of Ann’s friends were law students or recently graduated law students. He was her only artsy, way out of the ordinary friend who managed to fit in with the rest of her group. Nick introduced her to Ann and encouraged her to mingle. Feeling incredibly shy, Marissa decided to hang out on a sofa, sipping her sparkling water and observing the scene. Over in the corner near the television, a tall blond girl talked loudly to a curly haired guy about her new job. Two other girls stood by the snack table munching on chips and mumbling about something she couldn’t make out. Ann and Nick stood by the front door chatting. Marissa hoped he wouldn’t be long. She felt out of place. Jazz music provided the background sound. Marissa twirled her hair nervously. Finally one of the girls from the snack table came and sat next to Marissa.
She held out her hand, “Hi, I’m Sandy. I saw you walk in with Nick. You must be the girl from Italy, Francesca is it?”
Marissa looked at the girl in bewilderment. She squinted her eyes at the girl, trying to think about what she had just said.
The girl named Sandy slapped her hand to her mouth and gushed, “Oh, I’m so sorry. You’re not her. It’s just that, you look like you could be…Oh, I’m really sorry.”
Marissa stared at the girl speechless. Then with great effort, she spoke, “My name is Marissa.”
Clearly embarrassed, the girl looked over at her friend, who was still standing next to the snack table. She turned to Marissa again, “I’m really sorry. It’s nice to meet you Marissa.” Then she got back up to join her friend at the table.
Uneasiness filled the air. Marissa felt like an idiot, yet she hadn’t even done anything wrong.
To her relief and dismay, Nick came and sat down beside her. “How’s everything going?” he asked cheerfully.
Marissa answered in a low, serious voice, “Nick, that girl over there seems to think I’m someone else, some girl from Italy.”
“Oh, no,” Nick said in a serious tone.
“Is there something you want to tell me?” she murmured.
“No, not now. But after the party I will,” he whispered back.
During the remainder of the party, Marissa tried to concentrate on having a good time and meeting the rest of Ann’s friends, but it was impossible to relax and enjoy herself when she really wanted to find out what Nick was hiding from her. Not only did she feel hurt and embarrassed but she felt betrayed as well. So instead of sitting in the corner and sulking all evening, she decided to ignore Nick completely and talk to the others. As it turns out, Martha Smith was right about Ann. Marissa found her to be intelligent, interesting and completely beautiful. She couldn’t understand why any man in their right mind wouldn’t want to date her, including Nick. Then she remembered seeing them at the football game together and coincidentally, at the same time, Ann remembered her too.
“You’re the journalist,” said Ann pointing to her and piecing together a puzzle, “at the school where Nick teaches.”
Marissa once again perplexed said, “But didn’t Nick tell you…”
Ann waved a hand around, “He explained something like dating a girl, not wanting his parents to know where you two met and would I mind saying that I introduced you two, should his parents ask. But he never said you were a student, that sly devil.”
Then she leaned in very close to Marissa and whispered, “But I don’t blame him, you are very beautiful and intelligent too.”
Marissa blushed, “You’re very beautiful too. In fact, whe
n I saw you with Nick at the game, I thought that you were his girlfriend.”
This time Ann laughed out loud, “Nick and I,” she laughed again, “that is so funny!”
Marissa didn’t think it was that funny.
Ann read the confused look on Marissa’s face and explained, “Nick and I used to play in the sandbox together. He’s like my brother. Sure there were moments I had a crush on him when we were teenagers but he and I together, no way.” She laughed again. “Anyway, the teacher-student thing, your secret’s safe with me. It doesn’t surprise me, coming from Nick though. He doesn’t like following the rules. “
Again there was that word ‘girlfriend’. Nick had told Ann that she was his girlfriend? But who was this Italian girl?
Close to midnight the party started breaking up. Marissa was relieved that she would soon uncover the mystery but she was also pretty angry with Nick for hiding something from her.
As soon as they were alone, she went in for the attack, “So who is this Italian girl Nick?
“You mean, Francesca?”
“Yes, that is what the girl called me, Francesca,” spouted Marissa angrily.
In a very calm tone Nick began, “Francesca is a woman I met last summer. We dated for a few weeks and she had to go back to Italy.”
Marissa suspected there was more, “And?”
“And we write to each other and that’s about it,” Nick shrugged.
Marissa wasn’t satisfied with his answer, “And do you still have feelings for her?”
Nick shook his head, “What would it matter if I did have feelings for her? She’s in Italy and I’m here. I’m not going to live in the past.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?’ asked Marissa with disappointment in her heart. “I told you about Daniel. I even broke up with him.”
Nick was startled, “You what?”
“I said, I broke up with him.”
“Why?’
“Because Nick,” she stopped. “Can you tell me what we are please? It really hurt me to know there was someone else in your life and you didn’t even tell me.”
“Well,” Nick hesitated, “we’re dating.”
Marissa stomped her foot, “I know were dating Nick but are we committed? Are we free to date other people? I need to know.”
Nick took a step back, “Whoa, wait a minute Marissa, commitment? We’ve known each other for a little over three months and you want to talk about commitment? As far as I’m concerned, we are still in the ‘getting to know each other’ phase.”
“It’s just that…” Marissa hesitated. “I’m uh, in love with you and I thought that…”
He took her hands in his, “Marissa, I’m working two jobs, sometimes between twelve and fourteen hours per day. I’m spending almost all of my free time with you. If that’s not saying something, I don’t know what is. But agreeing to exclusivity now is too premature.”
Once again she felt like a foolish child being scolded by an adult. Why did I tell him I loved him, she thought. If it hadn’t been for the Italian girl, I wouldn’t have gotten so jealous.
“So what if Francesca decides to come back?” Marissa inquired with more jealousy than curiosity.
“I’ll have two girlfriends,” Nick replied mockingly.
“No, really!”
“If it happens, we’ll talk about it,” he answered smoothly. “Try to concentrate on what’s happening now. Appreciate what we have. You’re eighteen, you’re not ready for a commitment.”
Marissa crossed her arms to indicate that she was still upset with him.
“Hey, I’m twenty-four and I don’t even know if I’m ready for a commitment.” Then he tried another approach, “Why don’t we head back to my place for a little back massage, candlelight and music?”
As angry as she was with him, she couldn’t resist the proposition. After all to be touched by this man was to fulfill her wildest fantasies. Given the circumstances, it still amazed her that they were even together. He was right in a sense that talking about commitment was insane, the mere fact that they were together at all, was extraordinary. And she planned on appreciating every minute of it.
Chapter Seventeen
He read aloud to her, “Richard Bach’s rules for relationships,” he paused, “I’ve written these down as I’ve read. I like jotting notes from books I’ve read. O.K. Here are the rules, a non exclusive pact without jealousy, where no one takes the other for granted…”
Marissa scrunched up her face in disapproval, “That’s easier said than done Nick.”
He looked up from his notes, “Which?”
“The jealousy part.”
“Oh. Well, let’s try it. Jealousy can get ugly,” he said as he leaned over to grab a pair of chopsticks.
“O.K. go on. No, wait a minute, do you think Leslie is really going to stand for that?” Marissa asked munching on a vegetarian egg roll.
“Stand for what?”
“We’re only half-way through the book. Do you think she’s going to stand for that non-exclusivity thing until the end? No girl would Nick?”
“Well, some girls…” Nick began.
“Only the crazy ones,” she finished. “And Richard was having sex without being in love, but not you.”
“Everybody’s different.”
“Exactly!” Marissa exclaimed. “So why would any of his rules apply to us?”
“I think some of them sound good,” Nick defended.
“In theory,” added Marissa.
“Or in practice,” Nick argued.
“Ugh!” screamed Marissa. “You make my blood boil! Why does everything have to be so difficult? Are you that afraid of commitment? You know Nick; it’s O.K. to feel vulnerable once in a while. It’s O.K. to admit you have feelings.”
“Maybe you’re just going too fast for me,” Nick said. “You can be pretty intense sometimes.”
“I sometimes wish we were on the same page. At times it seems so complicated,” said Marissa softly.
“Try not to push so much. Let things come naturally,” said Nick stroking her hair.
“It’s hard for me,” Marissa admitted. “I get so impatient. I have all of these feelings for you and I need to know if you have them too.”
“Give me time,” Nick pleaded.
Marissa went over their conversation a thousand times in her head that night. She felt he was her soulmate and she his but she wasn’t sure when he would come to that realization. People don’t just come together in such great perfection, with such attraction, intimacy and connectedness and disregard it completely. They were pulled together with such incomprehensible strength and vivacity that she couldn’t even imagine what life might be like had she not known her soulmate. And to love him! Oh, what would it be like to love him without restraint? It was an experience she longed for. And with that thought she drifted off into pleasant dreams, in a place where they could meet freely with no one to judge, look with scorn or point fingers.
*****
School became a disagreeable task during which Marissa spent her time thinking about Nick. Everything else paled in comparison. Even the thought of California was losing its appeal. Yet, one thing she looked forward to was the newspaper field trip to the television studio. Anything having to do with television, movies or theatre, fascinated her. It would be fantastic to be behind the scenes.
“Dress up!” Ms. Prime had ordered them the day before. “We’re going to be part of the studio audience. You might be on television.”
Marissa moved the hangars around in her closet. She didn’t have that great of a choice when it came to dress clothes. Because of the dress code at St. Mary’s she had almost a whole closet full of long-sleeved solid color shirts and two pairs of navy blue slacks. Apart from that a few other lonely clothes hung in place: a dress she wore last Christmas, a sundress and a black and forest green checked blouse with a matching pleated skirt. Since she was already running late, she grabbed the blouse and skirt, pulled on a pair of black tights and
the black pumps she wore for choir performances. Checking herself out in the mirror she thought she looked more like a schoolgirl than anything else but she didn’t have any other choice. Before leaving, she brushed on some blush and rolled on some red lipstick, thinking that if she was on television, she wanted to look good.
The television studio was everything Marissa could have dreamed of and more. They toured the green room, the make-up room, the dressing rooms, the newsroom, recording studio and staff room. Every room was completely animated. The anchors sipped coffee and read the morning paper as the make-up artists brushed on the finishing touches before show time. The cameramen set up the lights and did camera checks for the reporters who were out on their beats. The producers gave the anchors their scripts and did sound checks with their microphones. The students learned that the microphones the anchors wore are called lavalieres. They also learned that the weatherman was in front of a blank green screen, not a map. It was incredible. Since the newspaper class consisted of only fifteen students, they were able to observe the news hour from the studio floor behind the cameras.
Once the news hour finished, the technical crew cleared out the anchor desk and replaced it with two armchairs, a small coffee table and a few plants for the next show, Talk with America Today.
The students were ushered to a group of chairs set up in a semi-circle across from the stage. Ms. Prime urged the students to sit together, as they would be joined by others, who would make up the remainder of the studio audience. The producer of the show came to coach them on ‘how to be a studio audience’.
“Hi, everyone. My name is Jeremy and I’m the producer for Talk with America Today. Before we get started, there are a few rules a studio audience has to follow. First of all, if you look around you, you will see that there are only about thirty chairs in our studio audience. Does that appear to be a small number for you?”
Everyone in the audience nodded their heads in agreement as they looked on either side of them.
Forbidden Fruit: An Unlikely Love Story Page 17