“I’ll take anything right now.”
“I would say you’re trying too hard, Em. You want it too much. You’re trying to force it.”
“But how do I not try? How do I not want it?”
“I don’t know, but you can’t try so hard. Live your life. The rest will come.”
“Um, okay.”
“I told you I wasn’t going to be helpful.”
“No, I’m sure you’re right. I just don’t know what to do about it. And my head hurts.”
“Maybe you should take a break from thinking about it and eat those aspirin.”
Emma choked down the pills that cleaved to her throat as the ice water frosted her mouth. She drew her legs in to press into her, hoping to calm her frothing stomach. She wrapped the blanket in her hands and drew it close and cuddled into the couch cushion. Terrence looked over at her gently once more, patting her reassuringly on the shoulder.
They both sank into the couch, losing themselves in the flashing of the flat screen. Terrence was probably actually paying attention. Emma disappeared from behind her eyes, drifting away from her sight and back into her mind. Sitting on the couch quiet and unmoving, watching some show she had zero interest in, felt reminiscent of her childhood. Something about sharing the couch with Terrence felt like Saturday mornings with Noah’s cartoons. In the same way, it was relaxing not to think, to float away from the inane programming, and it was comforting to have that person beside her without having to talk or present any pretense. She found the silence comfortable.
The hangover was relentless. It persisted to infiltrate even this calm instant. Her thoughts were finally tempered with her mind instead of encased in the headache. Her emotions did not draw her stomach into her throat, yet the wake of the alcohol bound her insides in awkward and wretched knots. She closed her eyes and tried to again find sanctuary below the surface of consciousness.
“Oh honey, you look like hell,” Ronnie said. She did not know if she had succeeded at falling asleep; she did not know how long she had been curled up silently beside Terrence.
“You did this to me.” Emma did not even open her eyes to respond.
“I helped, but I did not pour the wine down your throat.”
“Close enough.”
“You needed it. I see Terrence has been taking good care of you.”
Ronnie moved closer, kissed Terrence beside her, then her footsteps moved into the kitchen.
“Are you not even hungover?” Emma whined, squinting her eyes open.
“I don’t feel awesome, but I definitely don’t feel like you do.”
“I have to work tonight.”
“That is going to suck,” Ronnie laughed. “You better nap and eat some awful fast food or something. But I bet you’re not thinking about any asshole guy.”
“God, no. Just my own pain.”
“Then the night was a success!”
Chapter 8
Emma sat across the table from Terrence’s work associate. She attempted to sit naturally and not pick at the tablecloth spread out below her water glass. Across the table her date appeared calm. He looked directly at her sweetly.
“So where are you from originally, Tim?” Emma asked, lifting her glass to take a sip of water.
“My name is not actually Tim,” he said.
“Oh? Terrence always called you Tim.”
“Yes, I generally go by Tim. Americans have a hard time with my real name.”
“What is your real name?”
“Tymoteusz.”
“Tim-oh-tow-sh?” Emma stumbled.
Tim chuckled genuinely, drawing his fingers up to cover his exposed teeth. “That was close. Kind of. You see? You can call me Tim.”
“Okay, Tim,” Emma laughed, settling more into her chair, her shoulders receding from her neck. “Where are you from?”
“Poland. I grew up in Krakow. I came here for university then got the job in Denver. I have been here since.”
“Do you go back frequently?”
“All my family still lives there. I probably travel home every year or two. My parents and sister have been here once so far.”
“It must be hard to be so far from them.”
“They are happy for my success, and it is easy to keep in contact over email and MyBook.”
“I suppose that’s true.”
“What about your family? Are they here in Colorado?”
“They are. My father works for the Air Force. He’s down in Colorado Springs with his wife. My mother, stepfather, and my brother are in Denver.”
“Are you close to them then?”
“I suppose. I mean, I mostly see my dad for holidays and events like that. I do see my mom pretty frequently. At least every couple weeks. And my brother and his family.”
“Your brother has a family?”
“Yeah, married with a new baby.”
“Niece or nephew?”
“Nephew. Mason is two months old now.”
“You’re probably a good aunt.”
“I try.”
“Do you want kids?”
Emma’s heart stopped in her throat. The million dollar question of dating.
“I do. I want a family.”
“Me too.” He said it casually, nonchalantly, naturally. “So how do you know Terrence?”
“From Ronnie. She and I have been friends forever.”
“I like Ronnie. She is so honest.”
“Ha! Yeah, honest she is. She brought Terrence to my wedding, so I met him years ago. He and I are pretty good friends too. Ronnie absolutely hates dumb comedy movies, so we’ll go without her. Stuff like that.”
“It is good to have such good friends. I have enjoyed working with Terrence.”
“You do video game night with him too, right?”
“Yes. Those guys are a lot of fun.”
They leisurely ate their dinner, Emma at ease. She did not notice she was answering the same standard set of questions; it felt like a natural conversation. She actually heard his answers rather than performing her checklist in her head. She took bites without gauging how large they were or how much she was ingesting.
“How is your food?” he asked her.
“Really good actually. You want to try it?”
She angled her plate toward him. He reached over and stabbed out a hearty bite of her salad. He nodded as he chewed. “What is that dressing?” he said. “It’s awesome.” He tipped his plate to her with a questioning look.
“Yes, please.”
He carved out a small portion of his steak and lifted his fork to her. She leaned forward and bit the food off his fork.
As they exited the restaurant, Tim placed his arm around her shoulders. She allowed him to lightly rest his wrist on her shoulder, her body bumping softly into his as they walked. His touch felt comfortable, safe yet without an edge, no anxious flutter.
“Which is you?” he asked as they walked into the parking lot.
“I’m right over there.”
Tim took her shoulder and guided her to face him.
“May I kiss you, Emma?” he said, looking directly into her eyes.
She hesitated. Had he asked? Was this a European approach she was unfamiliar with? She smiled softly.
“Yes.”
He leaned in and gently pressed his lips against hers. His arms wrapped around her and drew her closer. She leaned in and let him. Then he slipped his tongue past her lips, lay it thick and heavy in her mouth. And left it there.
Emma stood there, lip locked and stunned, unsure how to proceed. She moved her tongue against his; his remained paralyzed and near choking her. Finally, he withdrew, and she fought the urge to cough. He pecked her softly on the lips and grinned at her with lazy eyelids. She struggled to reflect the look.
“It was very nice to meet you, Emma. Can I see you again?”
“Yes.”
“I will call you,” he said, kissing her lightly once more and opening her car door for her.
; Once Tim had retreated to his own vehicle, Emma wiped her face. She feared he had salivated all over her with his thick-tongued kiss. She shook her head, still confounded and a bit baffled.
Emma did not think on the drive home. She found herself stunned. She registered the confliction brewing in her emotions but could not identify the parts. She floated home somewhat detached. Lying in bed staring at the ceiling in the darkness, her thoughts began to take shape.
That was the best date I have been on since Justin. That might have been the best date I have ever been on. He is so relaxed and easy. I felt completely comfortable.
But I just don’t feel anything else. I don’t want him. He doesn’t do it for me that way. I want to cuddle with him on the couch and talk, not have sex with him. I have to want to have sex with a guy I’m going to date. He’s so dopey looking. Why did he have to kiss me like that? Just awful. I can’t have sex with him after he puts his tongue in my mouth like a slab of dead meat.
But he’s such a good guy. What am I going to do?
The next morning, Emma headed to Ronnie’s before work. Terrence greeted her at the door.
“Hey!” he smirked. “Straight over the morning after the date. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
Emma giggled uncomfortably and did not answer.
“Hey, Em, new Will Ferrell coming out next weekend. Ronnie says she would rather chew open a vein than sit through it. You game?”
“Yeah, I’m down. Let me know what showing. I’ll check my schedule.”
“Hey!” Ronnie said when she spotted Emma. “How were things with Timmy?”
“Timmy? Really?”
“Oh yeah. So how was the date?”
“It was good. I was really comfortable with him. We talked and talked like we knew each other forever. It was easy.”
“But?”
“Well, there was no spark or anything. I don’t know that I’m actually attracted to him.”
“Ugh, Emma! Not with this spark bullshit again.”
“And he can’t kiss.”
“Oh.”
“I don’t feel like I need to know how my coworkers kiss. Or whatever,” Terrence interrupted. “I’m going to go find some man stuff to do.”
He patted Emma on the shoulder, kissed Ronnie, and disappeared from the room.
“Okay, so he can’t kiss,” Ronnie returned. “Like how bad?”
“Pretty bad.”
“Like tonsil swabbing? Sucking your lips? Slobbering all over you?”
“Like a dead fish in my mouth.”
“Eew!”
“Yeah, he just like laid his tongue in my mouth and left it there.”
“Maybe that’s how they kiss in Poland,” Ronnie laughed.
“I hope not. It was so bad.”
“Kissing can be learned. How was the rest?”
“Like I said, it was good. It just wasn’t…I felt more like I was hanging out with a friend or my brother.”
“So he didn’t make you hot because he wasn’t a creep. I like this guy already.”
“Shouldn’t I be attracted to the person I’m with? Shouldn’t I, like, feel something?”
“Maybe in a perfect world. Things might need to develop. You expect to be in love with the guy on the first date? How many romantic comedies are you and Terrence watching?”
“We do not watch romantic comedies. Only comedies. And not in love with but I expect to feel, I don’t know, something.”
“Remind me how things turn out with the guys you do feel something for right away?”
“They poof.”
“Uh huh.”
“Why can’t I have both? A guy I’m attracted to who is a good person. I have to believe that both exist.”
“Because you are attracted to idiots.”
“There you go, making me sound horrible again.”
“You’re not horrible. You’re just a girl, and girls are dumb. Men want a tiny waist and huge tits on a bitch who is smart and not crazy. Women want these masculine, beefy guys who are also sensitive, emotional, and honest. The fucking unicorns of dating.”
“God, I hate you, Ronnie. What do you know about dating anyway?”
“Not a damn thing. I only know the seedy underbelly, where things are actually ugly and honest. Far less bullshit in a one night stand. Give Tim a chance. He’s different than all the other guys you’ve dated. You can always say no if no spark develops.”
“You’re right.”
“Good. Now get out and go to work before you really start to hate me.”
“We’re already there.”
Emma hugged Ronnie tight. The usual mix of gratitude and irritation swelled up to her surface. The fog her date left her in seemed to have cleared, but she did not necessary like what was left. She wanted to believe the right guy was still out there, the man she thought Justin was when she married him, the man she populated into each of her long term plans and fantasies. Deep in her brain, she believed she would simply know it was him when she met him.
The more she talked to Ronnie and the more men she dated, the more doubt bloomed around that failing sprig of certainty.
After the blurred hours of work, Emma sat in her car in the dark for a long moment in her driveway, the same driveway where she stood motionless staring at a bikini. Her thinking driveway. She rested her head on the steering wheel and cradled her keys in her palm.
She thought about how nice it had been to be on a date without pretense, a date without anxiety. Tim had been genuinely pleasant to be around and made her instantaneously comfortable with him. That had to count for something, didn’t it? That had to be worth pursuing, right?
She flashed back to that heavy, thick tongue in her mouth and her libido shriveled out from under her. Could she be with someone she felt so asexually about already?
From the depths of her purse, her phone vibrated in the silence.
Dylan: Hey baby girl, where have you been?
“Where have I been?” she said to the dark and empty car.
Emma tapped the message field and let her fingers hover over the keyboard. Did she want to type out what she was actually thinking? Did she want to play dumb and act like it did not matter? Did she want to see him again? She could not pretend he did not disappear; she could not let that be acceptable.
Emma: Where have you been?
Dylan: I’m sorry. I had some shit come up.
“Some shit? What shit?” she said, again to herself.
Emma: K.
Emma rolled her eyes and heaved her body out of the car. Her flesh felt heavier. Her head became weighted and compacted down on the rest of her. She did not want to walk; she did not want to hold her phone. She only wanted to collapse on the couch and bask in the gentle glow of trashy television until she had to be up early for work.
Her phone buzzed again in her hand as she unlocked the door.
Dylan: When can I see you?
Emma: I’m working two jobs tomorrow.
Dylan: Come over when you’re done.
“Why would you possibly want me to come over to your house?” Emma now spoke to her dark and empty residence.
Emma: Meet for coffee when I get off at Happy Beans before I head to Call Solutions. 2 pm?
Dylan: See you then.
***
Emma stumbled into Happy Beans blurry-eyed and exhausted as the sun pierced the sky outside. She fumbled her apron over her head, juggling her purse and keys clumsily between hands. Gladys greeted her from behind the counter, smiling at this ungodly hour as always.
“Well good morning, Eminem,” Gladys’s voice boomed in the waking shop.
Gladys was a hearty woman Emma estimated to be around her own mother’s age. She had been working in Happy Beans since before Emma had to add a second job to pay their mortgage. She was as much a fixture in the establishment as the coffee machines that lined the counter and had more personality than all the college-aged staff combined.
“Morning.” Emma tried to move her
mouth through the weight on her tired cheeks. “How are you so impossibly peppy every day?”
“I have an IV of espresso in the back. Late night last night, sugar?”
“Not really. Just worked, as usual. Went out to dinner the night before.”
“All work and no play. Oooh, was it a date? You know I need my updates on your dating soap opera.”
“Oh girl, I have updates for you. Don’t you worry.”
Emma stashed her belongings in a locker in the back and joined Gladys behind the counter to open for the day.
“New guy?” Gladys asked, practically salivating over the answer.
“Yes, new guy.”
“What happened to pretty boy? Dylan.”
“He disappeared. Then reappeared. Texted me last night. He’s going to come by before I head to the call center.”
“Disappeared? Why? I thought you two were dating.”
“So did I. He said he had some stuff come up.”
“Stuff without an explanation?”
“Apparently.”
“You better ask him today.”
“That’s the only reason I agreed to see him. Just to know. I’m fine making an effort, but I can’t handle the poof.”
“Absolutely not. If they’re interested, they’re interested. Who is the new suitor?”
“Tim. Well, his name isn’t really Tim. That’s what he goes by?”
“Huh?”
“It’s some Polish name I can’t pronounce. He moved here for college. He works with Ronnie’s boyfriend.”
“So he’s smart and has a real job.”
“Yes, he does.”
“But?”
“I don’t think I’m attracted to him.”
“Honey, it was a first date. You got to give the boy some time. Let him grow on you.”
“That’s what Ronnie said.”
“You know Ronnie and I see to eye-to-eye.”
“Yeah, I know. He’s a really bad kisser.”
“That will do it. You can train that puppy, though. See what happens.”
“Yeah, I’m going to.”
“What are you going to do about Dylan?”
The Rest Will Come Page 9