Next Year I'll be Perfect

by Laura Kilmartin

  Before I could even process his words, Frank ripped my letter of resignation in half, then again into quarters for good measure before tossing it unceremoniously into the trash.

  “What are you doing?” I asked, stunned by his behavior. “I told you I'm not making a threat. I am seriously quitting.”

  “I know you're serious.” Frank leaned forward, his hands clasped together on the surface of the desk. “I knew you were serious when I got the call from Norman Clark asking for a reference.”

  “Norman called you?” My first reaction was anger at my future boss' lack of discretion. I had told him Frank wasn't yet aware of my job search and I was a little ticked that Norman had gone behind my back asking for a reference. But before I could begin to boil over on that point, I realized something.

  “You knew? You knew I was looking for another job?”

  “I knew. When I got that call, I could see that you were serious about wanting to be a partner. It wasn't a lark or because of a stupid list. It was something you wanted badly enough to go somewhere else to find.”

  The last few words trailed off as Frank leaned over, rummaging through the bottom drawer of his desk, obviously looking for something specific. With a triumphant grunt, he raised his head and looked me square in the eye as he continued, “That's why I asked Gloria to run a sheet through the printer just to see how it would look.”

  Grinning in a very un-Frank like manner, he flipped over the pale cream piece of slightly crumpled stationery. At the top, just above the office address, phone and fax number were the words that made my heart skip a beat.

  Murphy & Bennett

  Attorneys at Law

  “Frank.” There were a million questions in my head, but I couldn't seem to find the ability to form one into actual words. I took the paper between my nerveless fingers.

  “I would have done this years ago if I'd known this would be your reaction.” Frank joked, but there was little humor in his voice. My silence was clearly unnerving him.

  “What does this mean?” I finally asked.

  “It means that Norman Clark is an idiot and I'm not about to let him benefit from everything I've taught you over the last five years.” He took the paper into his own grip, looked at it again and nodded in approval at the words he read. “It also means that if you've really got your heart set on this partnership thing, you might as well stay here.”

  Part of me warned that I shouldn't press my luck. Instead, I should take the letterhead and run. But, unable to let well enough alone, I had to ask. “You told me you didn't want a partner. What changed?”

  “It's called a negotiation, Bennett.” My boss replied, disgust evident in his voice. Before I could probe further, though, he held his hand up to still my question. “The thing is, I guess I broke my own rule.”

  “What rule did you break?”

  “I bet with more than I could afford to lose.”

  I couldn't help it. My eyes began to well up again, and before I could stop myself or think better of it, I rose and walked toward Frank, my intentions clear.

  “What are you doing?” He rolled away from his desk as far as the credenza at his back would allow.

  “Frank…” I put as much of a warning into that one syllable as was possible and held out my arms.

  “No. Partners do not hug! There are rules about these things.”

  I raised my eyebrows and wiggled the ends of my fingers until Frank slumped further in his chair, obviously defeated.

  “Fine. One hug, but that's it and we never speak of this again.”

  “Agreed.” I solemnly vowed before leaning over and hugging the stuffing out of my new partner. And as much as he may deny it to his dying day, Frank Murphy reached out and hugged me back.

  I practically bounced out of Frank's office and stopped at Gloria's desk where we shared a knowing smile.

  “Did your meeting go well dear?”

  “Why, yes. As a matter of fact it did.” I tried – unsuccessfully – to keep the shit-eating grin off my face. “Frank showed me a very interesting printing job that you helped him with.”

  Gloria smiled, showing the deep dimple in her left cheek. “Did you like it?”

  I rushed behind the desk and this time didn't find even token resistance as I enveloped her in a hug. “It was the best damned piece of paper I ever saw.”

  “Did I miss something?”

  We both looked up to see Morgan walk out of the conference room, clearly puzzled by the unusual public display.

  “Hi.” I straightened up and walked toward him, still unable to wipe away my silly smile.

  “Everything okay here?” he asked, clearly happy to see me in such a good mood.

  I was struck by the fact that my mood should be nothing less than spectacular. I had just made partner in a law firm, and while I was not in an official “relationship”, Morgan and I had been out several times since our breakthrough second date, and each outing had been more successful than the last.

  He was smart, funny and rooted for the Red Sox. I mean, really, what more did a woman look for in a man?

  If these attributes weren't enough, it seemed I was adding more to the list every time he and I spent time together. Morgan's favorite actor was Jimmy Stewart, he could recite the full text of the Gettysburg Address, and – whether he admitted it or not – he actually cried at the end of the movie The Color Purple. His very best trait, though, was his ability to foresee and subsequently prevent my crazy moments. Like a dog trained to warn an epileptic of an upcoming seizure, Morgan must have catalogued the symptoms that meant I was retreating in my head for a little psychotic adventure. Not taking these episodes personally, he would identify one and pull me back into the bright light of day before I got too far down a dark road.

  “Everything is very okay.” I replied, pulling him into an embrace. Almost instantly, I realized my serious error in judgment. Morgan and I had been trying to keep our dating a secret in the office for fear of Frank's inevitable outburst.

  I began to back away awkwardly when Morgan drew me tighter into his arms and I felt, as much as heard, the warm chuckle at my ear. “I forgot it was national Hug-Your-Co-Worker-Day. Thanks for reminding me, Sarah!”

  Letting me go, he moved toward Gloria and held out his arms. “Care to celebrate?”

  An amused, but mildly disapproving smile crossed Gloria's lips. “No, thank you. And if you know what's good for you, you won't let Frank catch you ‘celebrating’ in the office.”

  I caught both Gloria's eye and her meaning. She knew exactly what was going on between Morgan and me, but would adopt a ‘don't ask, don't tell’ motto as long as we didn't force her hand. “No more celebrating,” I vowed.

  Morgan nudged my shoulder with his. “So, care to tell me why you're in such a good mood?”

  I wanted nothing more than to share my news with Morgan, but didn't think it was the right time. Gloria was watching us like hawks for inappropriate office behavior and Frank could have burst from his inner sanctum at any moment. I decided instead that privacy and better planning were needed before I was ready to tell Morgan he was dating the boss. “I'd love to, but I have to tell some other folks first if that's okay.”

  Gloria's smile erupted into a deep laugh. “If you don't tell Jeremy your news right now, then I will. I've been half crazy keeping this from him.”

  “You've got it.” I grabbed my coat and paused at the door, calling back, “Hey, Morgan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “‘I'll probably spend tonight with my family, but if you're not doing anything tomorrow…?”

  “I'd love to.” He said with a wink that made me bow my head, suddenly very interested in the pattern of the carpet.

  I made a hasty retreat from the office, head spinning from the events of the day. I was a partner in a law firm and had a date with a man I was becoming increasingly very fond of. If I could just cut back on the Ring Dings and fit into those size 10 jeans, I could just maybe conquer the world.
<
br />   * * *

  I skidded across town in record time, anxious to share the news of my partnership, and beyond the moon that David and Eddie were both still in town. There was going to be even more celebrating at the Thornton/Bennett household tonight.

  The boys had arrived mid-afternoon the previous day for the whirlwind Portland tour. Everyone except Jeremy knew that all the elaborate travel plans had been made with only one purpose in mind – to unveil Eddie's brand new diploma.

  The evening had gone without a hitch. David made reservations at our favorite Italian restaurant and the four of us feasted on wine, garlic bread, pasta and sauces galore and finally the most amazing tiramisu this side of Napoli.

  Uncle Jeremy – tough ex-cop that he was – had actually misted over when he saw that his youngest son had achieved a degree – his fondest wish. While David was exceptionally supportive of all his brother's choices, himself, I knew it made him uncomfortable to be held up by his father as the shining example of success for Eddie to aspire to. To see that rift soothed between father and brother lifted his heart.

  Somewhat.

  For as happy and engaged as David appeared at dinner for his brother's sake, I knew there was something amiss, and I further knew what had caused it. Just as the wine was poured, Jeremy had innocently turned to me to ask how things were going with that ‘nice boy’ Morgan.

  “Morgan? You've met Morgan?” David had demanded of his father.

  “Sure. He came over for a barbecue several weeks ago.” My uncle had answered, oblivious. “He and Sarah are quite an item, it seems.”

  “They are?” David spun in his chair, focus entirely on me as I began to pick at my lasagna.

  “We've been out a few times.” I admitted reluctantly, and then in a cowardly move, raised my glass. “But this isn't about me. It's Eddie's night. Let's toast the graduate.” We raised our glasses as one, and from that moment on, David had turned his attention back to his brother, but still something was just not quite right. Luckily, though, I now had yet another topic to distract David from my current social life.

  He had been very interested in my job interviews, and had even helped me edit the letter I wrote to Frank. Knowing that I wrote the letter with a heavy and conflicted heart, he would undoubtedly consider my promotion nothing less than the perfect outcome it was.

  We had a few short hours before my friend had to leave for the airport for his trip to London. We could spend that time celebrating as a family, and then I could only hope things would sort themselves out by e-mail and phone before we saw each other again.

  “Anybody home?” I yelled, letting myself into Jeremy's house with my key.

  “Uncle Jeremy? David? Eddie?”

  Disappointed that the boys weren't sitting at home waiting to hear about my career achievements, I considered rounding them up by cell phone, but couldn't think of a non-emergency related excuse that would bring them home. Since I really wanted to see their faces when I shared my news, I decided to just settle in and wait for someone to return.

  Moving into the kitchen I was annoyed to find my bread maker sitting on Jeremy's counter. Eddie must have grabbed it from my place to make the disgusting low-carb rosemary bread he favored. I looked at the dried, flaky residue inside and cursed my friend for not even bothering to clean it. Rather than transport it home while dirty, I filled the sink with soapy water and had just finished my task when I heard the jingle of keys in the back door.

  “Sarah?” David's deep baritone called out to me. He must have seen my car parked in front of the house.

  “Hey! I'm back here.”

  David smiled as he turned the corner into the kitchen. “I see you're cleaning up after my baby brother.”

  I nodded. “I stopped letting him borrow my things, so now he just steals them. I would really expect more from a college graduate.”

  Drying my hands and apparently not cured of my desire to randomly hug everyone I came into contact with, I rushed to my friend. “I have some fabulous news for you!”

  Expecting one of David's usual bone-jarring embraces, I was surprised to receive instead a perfunctory pat on the back.

  “So, what's up?” He asked, unable to hide his obvious disinterest.

  “Geez, Thornton. What's with the attitude?” I backed away, no longer interested in sharing my partnership news.

  “I don't have an attitude.”

  “Sure you don't. That's why you're standing there, stiff as a board, treating me like someone who just rang the doorbell and wants to talk you into questioning your religious affiliation.”

  David met my eyes defiantly and replied, “I don't know what you're talking about.”

  The last thing I'd wanted was a confrontation, but looking at my situation as an outsider, I realized it wasn't like things could get worse between us. “Look, David, you've been upset with me since last night. Don't tell me you haven't been.”

  David neither confirmed nor denied my charge, but he didn't move to stop my words, either.

  Flopping into one of the hard, ladder-back kitchen chairs, I continued, “You know more than anyone how much I like to ignore my problems, David. I'd stick my head firmly in the sand if I could, but I can't do that anymore. Something is wrong between us and if you leave for London tonight before we fix it, I'm worried that we won't ever be able to.”

  David nodded slowly, a small acknowledgement of my words, but still he said nothing. It took all of my reserves of strength to stop myself from filling in the silence with mindless babble, but I know that only by keeping quiet would I draw out my friend.

  My patience was rewarded, but instead of an explanation, I only got a statement delivered in a flat monotone. “You're seeing Morgan.”

  “I am.” I admitted, frightened by the monsters that might be lurking for us behind the door we had just irrevocably opened.

  “You didn't tell me.”

  “No, I didn't. I should have, but I didn't. For that I am sorry, but I don't understand why you're so angry about it.”

  Again, I was met only by silence, but I could sense a difference from before. David was not planning to answer this charge without further prompting, so I dove into the deep end. “Did you purposely sabotage my first date with Morgan?”

  “Sabotage is such an ugly word.” He blew out a breath, stooping his shoulders in a defeated posture. “I suppose it was possible that telling Morgan you wanted to be his girlfriend might not have been such a great idea.”

  “Why would you do that?”

  David walked toward me, “You know why, Sarah.” With those words, David leaned down and kissed me, his lips gentle and soft as his right hand brushed the hair away from my face.

  It was a lovely kiss.

  And I couldn't wait for it to be over.

  The moment David's lips met mine, I wanted to flinch away. The skin on my arms began to itch like I was wearing a scratchy wool sweater without a cotton t-shirt underneath and I could feel my fingers fidget at my side not knowing where they should land.

  While Morgan's kisses had made my heart race in anticipation as he eliminated the space between us, David instead caused my heart to thunder uncomfortably in my chest as I waited for him to step back and out of my personal space.

  I loved this man dearly, but my physical reaction to this intimacy left no doubt that my love was platonic.

  “Nothing, huh?” He asked, his cheeks beginning to flush as he walked to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water. “I was afraid of that.”

  “David…” I began, not really sure what to say, but knowing I had to at least make an attempt. I had just been confronted with everything I'd been afraid of and hiding from for the past year.

  He held up his hand. “Don't, Sarah. Look, Eddie should be back any minute to take me to the airport. I'm just going to wait for him outside.”

  I grabbed his arm to keep him from walking away from me. “David, wait. We need to talk.”

  “All we ever do is talk.” He shoo
k his arm from my grasp. “You want to talk? Well, then, let's talk about this. I'm in love with you, Sarah!”

  I felt his words like a punch to the chest.

  David stood where he was, the stricken look on my face probably responsible for the softening his tone. “I've been in love with you since we were children. Since I knew what the word meant, I've associated it with you and only you.”

  “David…”

  He blew past my words as if he didn't hear them. “You treat me like your girlfriend. You confide in me about your love life and the men you're interested in, but every time you do it kills me a little bit because every passing year I know with more certainty that I will never be the man for you.”

  David closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, easing the tension in his shoulders somewhat. “I keep listening to you, though, and coming back for more. I guess I kind of snapped last night when I found out you didn't tell me you're seeing Morgan. It's kind of sick really. It hurts so much to know, but kills me even more not to.”

  The magnitude of what he was telling me finally hit home. All of these years. All of the hurt that I'd caused. “I'm so sorry, David. I never knew.”

  A slight smile crossed his features as he approached me and rubbed his thumb gently across my cheek, drying a tear I hadn't noticed had fallen. “Oh, Sarah. Of course you did.”

  And in that moment, I knew he was right. As much as I tried to ignore David's feelings for me, or minimize them as a harmless crush, I'd known all along that they were there. Caught up in my world of self-recrimination, I barely noticed when David started speaking again.

  “It's not like I've been wasting my life pining for you. I mean, I date other women. I even get laid on a regular basis.” He smiled without humor and continued, “It's just that I have never met a woman that can make me feel as good standing next to her as you can from six hundred miles away.”

  “Hey, Dave – sorry I'm late. You better get your ass in gear!” Eddie flew into the kitchen, and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight before him. My face was blotchy with tears, and David's jaw clenched with tension.