by Amy Harmon
I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. It was Chad. He didn’t leave a message. I felt immensely relieved and a little bit sad.
* * *
The evening was cold and wet—perfect weather for my brown corduroy dress, pea-green tights, and ankle boots. My hair was a little wild tonight so I held it back with a floral headband.
“You look so cute,” Janessa said.
“Thanks.” I shook out my hands. “I don’t know why I feel so nervous tonight. We eat lunch together almost every day.”
“Don’t be nervous. Just have fun. You look fabulous.”
Matt looked me over from head to toe when I opened the door. A little smirk appeared and then disappeared. I wasn’t sure what it meant but suddenly I felt self-conscious.
When we pulled out of the parking lot, Matt reached over and took my hand. “I thought we’d go to Sage.” I’d never eaten at Sage but I’d heard rumors they didn’t put prices on the menu. If you had to worry about the price, you couldn’t afford to eat at Sage. I was glad I’d worn a dress.
Matt was extra attentive, opening doors, putting my arm through his, and pulling out my chair. I opened the black leather menu. My mouth watered just reading about the dishes offered. The rumor was true. There were no prices.
“What is your vegetarian offering tonight?” Matt asked.
He’d better not be ordering for me. With the food described here, there was no way I was ordering vegetarian.
“We have a sea palm and root vegetable strudel. It’s quite delicious,” the waiter said. His British accent sounded a little overdone. He was probably an acting student from Medford.
“Give us a few more minutes?” Matt said.
“Certainly.”
“I’m not sure that sounds very good,” Matt said.
I took this opportunity to ensure I wouldn’t be forced to eat vegetarian. “This pecan-encrusted salmon sounds good to me. I think I’ll have that,” I said.
“Salmon is certainly better than red meat. Maybe I’ll order that, too. But I don’t know about the pecans. A lot of extra fat there.” When the waiter came back, Matt ordered two of the salmon, one with pecans and one without.
“Is the bank doing anything for Christmas?” Matt asked.
“They’re having a Christmas party next week. They reserved a room at the Marriott for dinner and dancing. Have you ever heard of a work party that included dancing?”
“I didn’t think there were enough employees at your bank to hold a dance,” Matt said.
I laughed. “That would be super awkward. It isn’t just our branch. Bank employees from all over western Oregon will be there.”
“Are you going?”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“You should go. I’ll come with you.”
“Really?” What was going on with all this sudden attention?
“Unless you don’t want to,” Matt said.
“No. I mean yes. Let’s do it,” I said.
Matt’s smile disappeared and his face turned serious. “Elizabeth, may I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
“What would you call us?”
I was confused. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Do you consider me a friend? A boyfriend? Are we ‘dating?’”
My mind muddled through possible answers and then I realized this was easy. It wasn’t my job to define the relationship. “I’m not sure what I’d call us. What would you call us?”
“I’d like to think we’re sort of a couple. But if we were a couple, you wouldn’t be dating the swim coach.”
I took a long, slow drink to give myself time to respond. This was wonderful, right? Exactly what I wanted. So why did it make me bristle? And then Mom’s words came to me.
“That swim coach is my friend. And until you give me a reason not to go out with him when he calls, I’m not doing anything wrong.”
Matt looked at me closely and then smiled. “So all you need is a reason?” I nodded. “Then here’s a reason. I like you. More than I ever intended to. And I think we may have a future together. But I don’t want to be worried about what’s happening with other men. I think we should date exclusively. Is that a good enough reason?”
I nodded but a pain seized at my heart.
“Good. Now tell me how we dress for this dinner dance.”
“It’s semi-formal,” I said.
Matt reached for my hand and held it between both of his. “I have a good feeling about us, Elizabeth.” He smiled and it was warm and sincere. I smiled back. Matt let go of my hand when the food arrived.
The ride home was quiet. Matt seemed very satisfied with the way the evening had gone. At the door, Matt pulled me into his arms and we shared our first kiss goodnight. It was nice. It really was. He didn’t rush and his arms felt warm and gentle. I wanted to be swept away, to have all thoughts disappear in the heat of the moment. But the heat wasn’t hot enough to burn away the memory of another kiss just a few days earlier. I refused to think about what that might mean.
“You’re an amazing girl,” Matt said as he held me close.
In a matter of days, two men had told me I was amazing. So why did I feel so un-amazing?
* * *
“The dating challenge is off,” I said in the doorway to Janessa’s dark bedroom. She sat up in bed and turned on her lamp.
“What did you say?” She stretched and shook away the grogginess.
“I said the dating challenge is off.”
“Really? Why?” She watched me with suspicion.
“Because Matt just said he wants us to be exclusive.”
“Are you serious? Lizzie. Sit,” she said as she scooted over and patted the mattress. “Tell me about it.”
“We ate at Sage.”
“Ooh, Sage. Was it as nice as I’ve heard?”
“It was super nice and super expensive. At least I think it was. I never saw any prices and I didn’t see the bill.”
“What did it look like inside?”
“The tablecloths were spun out of real gold and the salt and pepper shakers were encrusted with diamonds,” I said. Janessa snorted and slapped my arm. “It was pretty simple inside. Black leather menus, white tablecloths. There was modern art on the walls that wasn’t any better than the finger painting Jonah did on Thanksgiving.”
“Maybe Jonah’s a protégé.”
“He’s my nephew, so I’m sure he is,” I said.
“Okay, what did he say? Word for word.”
“He said, and I quote, ‘I’d like to think we’re sort of a couple, but if that’s the case, you wouldn’t be dating the swim coach.’”
“He did not.”
“Yes, he did.”
“How did he know about Chad?”
“I’ve told him about Mt. Hood’s swim meets.”
“So what did you say?”
“I told him I needed a reason not to date the swim coach and he told me he wanted us to date exclusively to see where things go.”
“Oh, Lizzie. I’m so happy for you.” Janessa threw her arms around me. “I know this is what you’ve always wanted and I’m glad you’re finally getting it. I’m sorry I bullied you into dating Chad. I just didn’t want you to end up sad and lonely.”
“Don’t be sorry,” I said, startling Janessa with my fervor. I dialed back my tone. “Chad’s a really nice guy. Some girl is going to be lucky to have him.”
“But you. You’ve got your Mr. Darcy. I have to admit I didn’t think it would happen.”
“I know. I’d about given up myself.”
“What about the whole vegetarian thing? Do you think you can handle that?”
“He told me he ate turkey on Thanksgiving and tonight he ordered salmon because the seaweed and root strudel didn’t sound good to him.” Janessa scrunched up her nose and we laughed. “He said he eats meat a few times a year. Hopefully I can convince him to make his vegetarian days a few days a year.”
“You’ll have him so wra
pped around your finger he’ll be willing to start butchering his own meat if you ask him to.”
I rolled my eyes. “I guess I’m going to the Oregon National Bank Christmas dinner and dance.”
“You said you wouldn’t be caught dead at that.”
“That was before Mr. Darcy said he’d like to go with me,” I said. Janessa squeezed my hand.
“I’m exhausted,” I said. “I’m heading to bed.”
“Congratulations, Lizzie,” Janessa said as I walked out of her room. “Who says dreams don’t come true?”
* * *
I had planned to attend Mt. Hood High’s swim meet on Saturday morning, but now I couldn’t, so I texted Chad.
LIZZIE: I CAN’T MAKE IT TO THE MEET THIS MORNING. SORRY. COULD YOU STOP BY MY HOUSE AFTER IT’S OVER?
I couldn’t eat any breakfast and my stomach felt like it was gnawing on itself. I tried to watch a documentary about vacationing through Europe, but the happy tourists did nothing to lift my mood, so I turned it off. I folded a load of clothes and then sat down to wait.
Even though I was expecting him to come, I jumped when he knocked on the door.
“Are you sick?” Chad asked as soon as I opened the door.
“I’m okay. How did the team do?”
“There were four teams and we came in second by only a point.”
“Oh darn.”
“I told you you were our good luck charm.” I couldn’t look at Chad so I looked at the floor. “Lizzie, is something wrong?” Chad leaned down to look at my face. A tear rolled down my cheek and I brushed it away. “Hey, what is it?”
I took Chad’s hand and led him to the couch. I rested my elbows on my knees, clasping my hands in front of me.
“Lizzie? What’s wrong?”
“We can’t go out anymore,” I said, looking at the floor.
“What do you mean?”
“I’m so sorry, Chad.”
“What’s going on? What are you sorry for?
“I didn’t mean to lead you on,” I whispered.
“Just tell me what you’re talking about.”
“We weren’t dating exclusively,” I said. “I mean, we never said we were only dating each other, right?” Somehow I wanted him to believe that I hadn’t been disloyal.
Just heartless.
“I guess that’s true,” he said.
“I’ve been dating someone else, too. And he doesn’t want me to see you anymore.” I nearly choked on the words. I forced myself to look up at Chad’s face. He looked stunned.
“Is this what you want?” he finally asked.
I nodded at first and then I shrugged my shoulders. I realized it was a confusing gesture but it took me a moment before I could speak. “I think it is. Chad, please don’t hate me. Please.”
Chad put his arms around me and I cried into his shoulder. When I finally pulled away, I could see his eyes were sad and red-rimmed.
Chad shook his head. “Lizzie, I could never hate you.”
“I feel so bad.”
“Yeah. Me, too.” That only made me feel worse and fresh tears started.
“I’m so sorry, Chad. You have no idea how sorry I am.”
“Hey, no more crying.” He wiped my tears, stood up and walked to the door. “Be happy, Lizzie. If this is what you want, you don’t have any reason to be sad.”
I nodded but I couldn’t speak. Chad closed the door quietly behind him.
Chapter Twelve
When the door closed, I hurried to the window and watched Chad walk slowly down the sidewalk to his car. I was sure I was doing the right thing. So why was my heart breaking? I wanted to run after him and tell him I didn’t mean it. Why couldn’t we just be friends? If I hadn’t let him kiss me, I could have assured Matt that Chad was just a good friend. I wouldn’t have had to give him up entirely. But I had let him kiss me. And I’d kissed him back. It was too late to pretend we could hang out without it meaning anything.
I bit my lip to keep it from quivering. This was the right thing to do. Chad was too good to toy with and my mind was made up.
It had been made up since I was sixteen.
Chad sat in his car for several minutes. I couldn’t see his face, just his hands resting on the steering wheel. When he finally pulled out of the parking lot, I dried my tears and headed for the kitchen.
Usually when I was upset I liked to clean, but the kitchen was spotless, so instead I made a mess. A big chocolate chip cookie mess that I didn’t clean up until the next day.
* * *
I’d made a monumental effort to look good for the Oregon National Bank Christmas party. Actually, I made the effort for Matt and I hoped he would notice. Janessa and I had found a perfect charcoal gray lace dress. The elbow-length sleeves and waist were fitted and the full skirt fell just below the knee. Wine-red tights and pewter ballet slippers finished the look. Janessa helped me with makeup, including darker eyes and brighter lips than I was accustomed to. We left my hair loose and curly.
I knew I looked pretty when I opened the door. I resisted the urge to twirl—the skirt was so perfectly full it was made for twirling. Matt looked me over, but didn’t say anything. He just put out his arm for me to take. I berated myself for wanting his compliments. I knew I looked good. That should be enough, right? So why did I let Matt make me feel self-conscious when he withheld compliments? I was learning he wasn’t prone to gushing so I shouldn’t expect him to.
Mr. Darcy wasn’t a gusher either, right? And yet, he was still fascinated by Elizabeth. The thought gave me a little comfort.
The Oregon Ballroom at the Marriott was a Christmas wonderland. Frosted evergreens decked in tiny white lights lined the walls. Each table overflowed with greenery and sparkling ornaments. Rows of twinkling lights hung over the dance floor.
We found the University Branch table and sat with Delia and her husband, Courtney and her boyfriend and Steve, a loan officer and his wife. Matt was pleasant to everyone and had a lively conversation with Steve about the financial crisis in Europe. Conversation waned when they brought the food. Steve had barely cooked prime rib and the rest of us had chicken with a mushroom sauce.
“Didn’t you order me a vegetarian plate?” Matt asked.
I hadn’t realized I could order a vegetarian plate and Matt had never expressed a desire to have a special meal. Honestly, I was getting tired of Matt’s food preferences. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know they offered a vegetarian plate. I thought the chicken would be the best choice since you don’t like red meat.”
“You know I prefer no meat at all,” Matt said to me and then turned to signal the waiter. “Is there a vegetarian offering?”
“I’ll see if we have one, sir.”
My food cooled as I waited to eat with Matt. Several minutes later the waiter returned. “I’m sorry sir. We don’t have any extra vegetarian plates. I can order you a pasta primavera from the restaurant, if you’d like.”
“How long would that take?” Matt asked.
“Fifteen minutes perhaps.”
Matt sighed and waived him off. “Never mind. I suppose this will do.”
“I’m very sorry, sir,” the waiter said.
“I’m sorry Matt. I should have…”
“Don’t worry about it.” Matt dismissed my apology with a wave of his hand. He must have realized he sounded impatient because he reached over and patted my hand. “This is fine,” he said. He smiled but his voice had an edge. When they cleared the plates away, his food had hardly been touched.
Matt refused the chocolate cheesecake with sliced strawberries. It was delicious although it was a little harder to enjoy mine since Matt wasn’t having any.
We turned our chairs toward the dance floor where a bank executive and her assistant drew names for door prizes. Matt pulled my chair a little closer and held my hand. Courtney squealed when her name was drawn for a $100.00 gift card to Harry and David. She waved the card in the air as she hurried back to our table in her super-short sequined dres
s and four inch heels. Then the executive instructed each branch manager to hand out their gifts. Delia handed out envelopes containing $25.00 gift certificates to a steakhouse chain.
The DJ took over the microphone and wished everyone a Merry Christmas before he started playing an eclectic mix of old and new Christmas music. We watched while a few couples danced to “Last Christmas” by George Michael and “Mistletoe” by Justin Beiber. When Bing Crosby started singing “White Christmas,” Matt leaned over and kissed my cheek. “Let’s dance.”
Although the style of dance was different, and we didn’t have an impassioned conversation like Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, I closed my eyes and let the rest of the room disappear as Matt and I moved gently to the music. Suddenly, memories of dancing with Chad intruded on my dance with Matt. I wanted to be here, dancing with Matt, so why was I thinking of Chad’s hand on my back and his breath in my hair. I opened my eyes to anchor myself in the here and now. I was in a Marriott ballroom that looked like a fairy tale and I was dancing with the man of my dreams under sparkling lights, so why did I feel nostalgic for a high school gymnasium decorated with construction paper leaves?
The next song was a little faster. Some of the couples split apart to dance but Matt continued to hold me in his arms. A wall of mirrors behind the dance floor caught my eye and all thoughts of Chad disappeared. There was Matt looking tall, sophisticated and very Darcy-ish. He was holding me in his arms. Me! If I played this carefully, maybe someday I’d be Mrs. Dawson and Matt would look at me with eyes filled with love. Maybe he’d even call me his pearl.
“What are you thinking about?” Matt asked.
“I was thinking that you remind me of Mr. Darcy. In Pride and Prejudice. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“You think I look like Colin Firth?”
“No. I think you look like Matthew Macfadyen. In the Keira Knightley version.”