by DW Cee
“If you don’t want a relationship with Max and it is me you want, why were you crying?”
She was at a loss for words. Thinking about this for a few seconds, she answered, “I cried because a lot of the pain I felt after we broke up resurfaced. Those were the words I wanted to hear eighteen months ago, not now. Maybe I was angry at him for…”
“Waiting this long?” I finished her sentence. “Do you want to get back together with him but can’t because of me? Am I in your way?”
What possessed me to ask these questions and leave the balance of our relationship up to her was beyond me. I guess I needed to know her answer.
“No! I want to be with you, Jake.” She hugged me tenaciously, body shaking. “Please don’t think that. Please, please believe me when I tell you how much I cherish our relationship.”
With such ardor, I was happy to have asked my questions. I brought her close to me and attempted to understand her.
“Emily, explain to me what’s on your mind. There must be something lingering in your heart for Max for you to be in such anguish.”
“To be honest, I don’t exactly know what hold Max still has on me, if any. I know there’s no more connection between us, but why I still hurt so much when he brings up the past, I can’t explain.” She looked guilty again. “I’m sorry I’m such a mess. This is the kind of stuff I don’t want you to see. What I do know is that in the short while we’ve been together, you’re the one I want to be with, not Max.”
I decided at this point it was time to tell her how deeply I felt. I’d held back as long as I could. “Emily, I’m not letting you go anywhere. We are not separating for any reason. I can’t imagine my life without you anymore and I hope you feel the same way about me. You must know by now how much I love you. I can’t believe I’ve waited this long to tell you.”
I saw more signs of hesitation.
“And by the look on your face you don’t quite reciprocate?” I asked to be sure.
“Jake, I’m not there just yet,” she answered half shrugging her shoulders.
“Emily, are you really not there? I think you’re just afraid to admit it.”
“To me, when I tell someone I love them, it’s a forever kind of word. I can’t take it lightly. Forever is not in my vocabulary just yet with us.”
I got angry again. “Why do you keep saying that? Didn’t you tell Max you loved him? Why are you so negative about us all the time? Do you think I take the words ‘I love you’ lightly? The words ‘love’ and ‘flippant’ do not coexist in my vocabulary either. This appears to be a weekly argument with us.”
“I’m sorry, Jake.” She had a coquettish but apologetic smile as she sat on my lap and put her arms around my neck. “Can we not argue about this again? Just give me a little more time? Please?” She had perfected the art of flirting with my hope.
“You can’t admit you love me and you refuse to have sex with me. Why am I still here with you?”
“Because you love me.” She answered before propositioning my lips.
The next day I stopped by with breakfast but had to leave within minutes when I got paged. I came back fairly late in the evening to find dinner waiting for me.
“What’s for dinner?”
“Spaghetti, chopped salad, and garlic toast.”
“That smells good! I brought a cheesecake for dessert.” I held up the bag to show her. “Should I put it in the fridge?”
“Uh-huh. Can you get out the iced tea I put in there? Dinner’s ready. Let’s eat.”
“How was your day?” Emily asked nonchalantly not realizing how much she sounded like a wife asking her husband about his day.
I delighted in her question and forgot to answer.
“Are we not talking tonight?” She stared at me.
“My day started off intense but slowed down after lunch. What did you to all day?”
“I did just about nothing. I read a book, went grocery shopping and made dinner. I think I could live like this for a while.”
“Me too,” I answered but she didn’t understand my comment.
“Jake…” It was never a good sign when she dragged my name. Either I was in trouble, or she needed to confess something. “Can I ask you something that’s been bothering me since I saw Allison this weekend?”
“You’re not going to bring up the kiss again, are you?”
“No, not this time.”
“Then what’s bothering you?” I tried to think through all the things Allison said and did while Emily was present. There wasn’t much else that happened, I didn’t think.
“Well…”
“Emi, just spit it out.”
“Well…when I met Allison, I noticed she had a similar…never mind. I’m being silly. Finish your dinner. Let’s talk about something else.”
I dropped my fork. “I’m not eating anymore till you finish your thought. What is it?”
She hesitated for a long while then tried again. “I noticed Allison had a similar ring as mine and I wondered if you had given that to her.” Her head dropped immediately. I just hoped she wasn’t crying.
“Emily, what ring? I didn’t give her any ring.” Furiously I searched my brain for a mental picture of Allison’s finger that morning. I also did a quick jog through my memory to make sure I hadn’t given her anything that significant.
My girlfriend didn’t look convinced.
“It’s OK if you have.” She tried to backpedal. “I don’t mind.” Obviously she did. “I shouldn’t have asked. Sorry…”
“Emi, I promise you, I haven’t given her any gifts. I don’t know what ring she had on, but it wasn’t from me.”
“OK.” She answered and took a big awkward bite of her spaghetti.
“You don’t believe me, huh? I promise, it wasn’t from me.”
Emily didn’t say anything but continued eating.
“All right, let me tell you about all the girls I’ve dated and what I’ve given to each one of them so you will believe me when I tell you I’ve given no girl a ring in my life but you. You are the only one.”
Comically, Emily’s eye bulged and she cringed at the can of worms she’d opened. Purposely and tediously I named every girl I’d “dated,” even the ones I had a crush on in elementary school, and told Emily about each and every gift a girl or woman got from me. It started with the girl in first grade who received a pink pencil from me all the way to Kelley who received several Tiffany trinkets, to books to a trip to Mexico. I gave the names of all the other women I’d gone on a date with and where we went and what we did, to the best of my memory. For the sake of our relationship, I didn’t outline all that I had done on my dates and filled in the blanks to some I really couldn’t remember.
“OK! OK! I’m sorry. I believe you. I don’t need to hear any more. It’s not that I didn’t believe you the first time, I felt stupid having asked that question. I was jealous.”
“No, I think you need to hear more.” I punished her with copious details, many of which were unnecessary but made my adventures even more drawn out. Toward the end of the story, all Emi could do was laugh. I had made my point. She conceded a loss.
“You can be so mean sometimes,” she accused.
“Oh, you charge me with giving Allison the same ring you have on and tell me I’m the one who’s being mean?”
“I’m sorry. How can I make this up to you?” The banter began again.
“Will you let me stay the night?”
She gave me a “seriously” look.
“I’ll sleep in the guest room. Just let me stay here tonight.”
“I think it’s time for you to leave.” Emily got up and started clearing the dishes. “We’ll have the cheesecake tomorrow night. Will you be back?”
“Can I stay tomorrow night?” I didn’t let up.
She shook her head no again then grabbed my hand and led me to the door.
“What time is your surgery tomorrow morning?”
“Early. I won’t stop by in the
morning but I’ll be home early as well.” I wondered if she caught the word home as I referred to it as our home. I was sure she did but pretended not to have heard it.
“Good night.” She tiptoed to give me a peck on the lips.
I caught the peck and responded with lust of my own.
The day started before the sun was up and I didn’t get to communicate with Emily till about noon. I called but she didn’t pick up her phone so I sent her a text.
Hello, Beautiful. What are you up to?
I could never understand why she texted back so quickly but wouldn’t pick up the phone.
I’m having lunch with Sarah. What time will you come over tonight?
Probably around 4:00. Tell Sarah I said hello. I miss you.
Will do. If you get there before I do use the spare key by the back door. Miss you too.
I got to Emily’s earlier than expected and found her car but no one to open the door. Possibly Sarah had picked her up and they weren’t back from lunch yet. I went around back and walked in using her spare key. Setting the key on her coffee table, I looked into Emily’s bedroom and found her taking a nap. Unable to resist, I gingerly walked over and crawled into bed with her. She didn’t feel my weight on the bed but quickly froze in fear when I curved my arm around her waist from behind.
“It’s only me,” I answered with kisses to the back of her head.
“You scared me,” she complained turning around.
Rather than pushing me off the bed as I had expected, she curled herself into my body and fell back asleep. We napped till the sun had long gone down and our stomachs started grumbling.
“You want to go out and grab a bite to eat?” I asked her as she stayed comfortably in my arms.
“No. Let me make us dinner.” I was sorry I asked. She got up, went into the kitchen and in the blink of an eye, pulled together a salad.
“What did you make so quickly?”
“It’s a shrimp and crab Louie salad. I had all the ingredients prepared. I just needed to assemble it.” She poured Thousand Island dressing on both our salads and I happily ate.
“Should we go watch a movie tonight?” I asked.
“What time to do you need to get into the hospital tomorrow?”
“I got in early today. I don’t start till 9:00 tomorrow. We can hang out tonight.”
“OK, but no movie. Maybe we can go rent a movie instead. I feel lazy. I don’t want to go anywhere. Let’s just hang out here.”
“Sounds good. How was lunch with Sarah? What did you eat today?”
“Sarah had some project near downtown so we ate at Langers. I had a pastrami sandwich craving.”
These cravings had helped us meet so I was always happy to hear about them. I got up and cleared our dishes and we sat comfortably in her living room without any agenda. As always, I enjoyed my time with her.
“Emily, I’d love to hear more about your parents. Will you tell me about them?”
“You want to hear about them?” She sounded thrilled. I would have asked sooner if I’d known it would make her this happy.
She ran over to get photo albums, and she plopped on the floor ready to begin her journey. She started with pictures of her parents when they were in college.
“Your mom was stunning!” I blurted out.
“I know, isn’t she beautiful?” she answered wistfully. “When I was younger, I used to hate it when people told me how pretty she was. Unfortunately I didn’t really appreciate her till I got older.”
“Why would you hate someone telling you your mom was beautiful?”
“Because I was jealous. No one ever said anything remotely complimentary about me. The comment I got repeatedly was, ‘I hope you grow up to look just like your mom.’ It bugged me. Plus, my mom had such a vibrant personality, and I was so shy. She was always the life of the party and I was the wallflower in the corner.”
“Love, girls don’t come much prettier than you…even your mom,” I reassured her.
“You wouldn’t be saying that if you’d seen my mom in person.”
“I’d say it regardless. So how’d your dad get so lucky?”
Emily started cracking up. “Oh, my gosh, that’s such a funny story. My dad told me when Mom got to college, she was the talk of her Texas campus. Every guy wanted to date her. She was in some sorority and every frat and non-frat guy had visited her house to ask her out.”
“So did your parents meet at a frat party?”
“No, my dad was the antithesis of my mom. He was awkward and extremely shy. He was a senior when Mom was a freshman, and they only became friends because she needed help in calculus and he was her school-appointed tutor. He tutored my mom her entire freshman year.”
Emily flipped through many more pages of the photo album. “She was really beautiful, huh?” She spoke rhetorically and sadly touched her mother’s face.
“So my mom was dating some hotshot guy on campus but spending loads of time with my dad, because her math skills were so pathetic, and they developed a friendship during these tutorial sessions. My dad was probably one of the very few men who was more attracted to my mom’s heart than her face. Do you know what he told me he loved most about her?”
“What did he love most about her?” How could he choose just one or two qualities? I could sit here all day and count the ways I loved my Emily.
“My dad said that Mom was the most caring and attentive person he’d ever met. Every time they were together, she’d bring him a little something to thank him for working with her. She’d bring him lunch if it was lunchtime or a piece of chocolate she knew he liked, or she’d buy him poetry books. My dad was a bit of a poet. He devoured the attention. Oh my gosh…”
“What?” She looked like she’d just had an epiphany.
“I’m dating my mother. You remind me exactly of my mom. You’re both attentive and outgoing and exceedingly sure of yourselves. Oh gosh…” She trailed and went into her own thoughts one more time.
“What?” I asked again.
“Max was the epitome of my dad—shy, reserved, and gentle. How sad. I miss my parents so badly, I need to date people who remind me of them.” Emily shook herself out of her thought and continued with her story.
“So all this time, my dad loved my mother but didn’t do anything about it.”
“Was your mom into your dad also?”
“I asked that same question, and they both said no. She was dating someone else, but she said she always thought of my dad as a dear friend.”
“So how did they get together if she was dating someone else?”
“When school ended, my mom was driving home to LA and about an hour away from school, she got a flat tire. She said the first and only person she thought to call was not her boyfriend but my dad. She knew then he was the man she loved and trusted to take care of her. Of course my dad came to her immediately upon receiving the call.”
“And that’s how they got together?”
“Kind of…remember how I told you my dad was terribly shy?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Well, Mom knew he liked her but wouldn’t admit it unless something extreme happened. So when he got to my mom, she ran to him and hugged him as if he had rescued her from death.” Emily proceeded to guffaw. I watched and waited for her laughter to die down. “She embraced him dearly and started confessing her feelings. My dad, being in a state of shock, didn’t say a word but tried to pry her body off him.”
She looked at me and added, “You know, they were in the middle of the 10 freeway and cars were honking everywhere.”
“Did she let go of him?”
“Nope. My mom told me she held onto him till he was forced to confess his feelings for her. You want to know what else she forced him to do?”
I shook my head no.
“He was about to go off to grad school, and she didn’t want to be separated from him, so she got him to propose to her and tied him down all within the same hug. Isn’t that insane?”
“I doubt it. I’m not brave like my mom. She always knew what she wanted and she went after it till it was hers. Strong and secure would be the two words I’d use to describe her. She rarely wavered. I, on the other hand, take too much after my dad. I’m introverted and insecure. Even if I want something, I probably won’t out right tell anyone. It can be a bit of a guessing game with me.”
“So when did your parents get married?
“They got married that summer. Mom transferred schools and finished undergrad while she was married to my dad.”
“You mean she got married when she was eighteen?”
“Just about…I think she turned nineteen right before her wedding day. Here are their wedding photos.”
Emily’s mom looked radiant in her wedding dress. I imagined us in this photo and how beautiful my bride would be on our wedding day. I only needed to convince her that this was our future together.
“That’s a great story. So when were you born?”
“The day after my mom graduated from college. She was a balloon at her graduation. Look at her.” Emily pointed to her pregnant mom with her cap and gown.
“When I was young, I was painfully shy just like my dad. My mom thought she could turn me into a mini-me but failed miserably. She couldn’t understand why I didn’t want people giving me any attention or why I couldn’t speak my mind. The only person who really understood me was my dad. He knew exactly how I felt, because he felt the same way.”
“But you’re not shy now, although I suppose you get embarrassed easily.”
“That only happened after my dad died. My dad and I were really close. When I was younger, I was probably closer to my dad than my mom. I was unusually small for my age and my dad carried me around like a little child till I was seven. He understood my need to be alone and my fear of unwanted attention. He showered me with love and affection and protected me from all my insecurities.”