by Lori L. Otto
I open the door for Sam, leaning down to kiss her before I let her in. “Emi’s on her way out,” I whisper in her ear. She scans the apartment quickly until she sees my friend.
“Hi,” Sam says brightly. “Did you two have fun today?”
“We got a lot of work done,” Emi says, smiling, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “It was nice to meet you, Sam. Probably see you Friday?” Emi asks, directing her attention to me.
“Friday,” I tell her, holding the door open for her and then closing it behind her.
“What’s Friday?” Sam asks quickly. “I have that night off. I thought we could do something.”
I rub her arm in assurance, picking up on her insecurity. “We thought we might go out as a group. Us, Emi and her boyfriend, and Emi’s brother and his new girlfriend.”
“Oh,” she says, relieved. “I’d like that. I want to get to know her better.”
“I’d like for you to, too.”
“I can tell she’s important to you.”
“She is. But so are you.” I guide her over to the couch. “How was your day?” She sits down, kicking off her shoes and putting her feet in my lap. I take them in my hands and massage them, continuing with the typical routine we have when she comes over after work.
“Fine,” she laments. She proceeds to tell me about different interactions she had with customers. Sometimes I have to focus more than normal to keep up with her chatty conversations. She talks more than most women I’ve dated, and I’m not always interested in the things she chooses to talk about. She tends to dwell on material things. A coat she liked, a pretty necklace a woman was wearing... shoes she saw in a window. When it comes time to buy her presents, I have no doubt she’ll give me plenty of tips.
“This one couple,” she starts, “just got engaged last night. They were on the way to Bulgari to get the ring resized. You should have seen it.”
“Nice, huh?”
“I’ve never seen anything like it. The diamond was huge! I mean, the smaller diamonds were bigger than most solitaires I’ve ever seen. It was really pretty.”
I just nod my head, following along with her story.
“He surprised her with it,” she continues. “I think I’d like to pick out my own ring. Of course I wouldn’t say no to a ring like that,” she laughs. “I’d be a fool to.”
“A girl who knows what she wants,” I comment, leaning in to kiss her.
“I want you, right now,” she whispers back to me.
“I can make that happen.” We kiss some more on the couch before moving our activities to the bed.
“Nate?” she says after we make love that night.
“Yes, baby,” I whisper, barely awake.
“Nate, I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Nate?”
“Yes?”
“Do you love me enough to marry me?” she asks. In the back of my mind, I knew this conversation was coming, but still, I’m not prepared with an answer. Holding her in my arms, I look down at her to meet her blue eyes, her blonde hair messy and obscuring my view.
“I’m not ready to get married,” I tell her honestly.
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I think you will make an incredible wife. Any man will be lucky to have you.” I lean down and meet her lips with mine.
“I still don’t think you answered my question,” she says seriously, but I can hear a hint of playfulness in her tone. “But I just want you to know that I could see myself marrying you.” I smile and brush the hair away from her eyes. “Not yet, of course,” she adds.
“Of course.”
“Why aren’t you ready?”
Am I ready? I’m twenty-eight. Most men my age are engaged, married or divorced. I’d like to be committed to one woman for the rest of my life. I don’t enjoy going from relationship to relationship.
Maybe that wasn’t the best answer. Maybe I’m just not ready to marry Sam. I’d had vague notions of myself as a married man, but Sam was not the woman by my side. I don’t know why. I care about her. I have fun with her. I just can’t see myself growing old with her.
“I’m not sure. I guess I just haven’t given it much thought. My relationships typically don’t last this long,” I laugh quietly.
“Do you think you could start giving it some thought?” she asks me shyly. Is marrying her an idea I could get used to?
“Sure,” I assure her. And maybe it is. It’s definitely worth considering.
~ * ~
In the following days, I’d done what I told Samantha I’d do. I started thinking more about marriage, and more specifically marrying her. It just wasn’t an idea I could easily rectify in my mind. I still think it’s too soon to even consider it, but the more I think about it, about her, the more I realize she might not be the right woman for me. She’s so young and naïve... and needy.
Still, I don’t want to write her off too soon. I’d like to have the opportunity to get some other opinions. The date with Chris, Anna, Emi and Colin should be the perfect chance to get a little perspective from two of my closest friends.
“I’m nervous,” Sam whispers in my ear as we wait for the hostess to seat us in the Spanish restaurant I’d chosen.
“Why?” I ask her with a chuckle, wrapping my arm around her bare shoulder. “You look perfect. Everyone’s going to love you.”
“I hope.” I could tell that Sam was putting a lot of pressure on herself tonight. I think she feared that if my friends disapproved, it would be over between us. Even if their opinions weren’t favorable, I wasn’t ready to end what we had going yet.
“Just be yourself. And I bet everyone’s a little nervous anyway, so you’ll fit right in,” I assure her.
“Right this way, sir,” a host signals for us and leads us to the table already occupied by Emi, Chris, Colin and a very pretty Asian woman that I assume is Anna. I smile at Chris and nod my approval. He stands up to greet us, shaking my hand and pulling the chair next to his out for Samantha. As he talks to my girlfriend, I make my way over to his date.
“Anna, I presume?”
“Hi, you must be Nate,” she says with a smile that would ease anyone’s fears. “It’s so good to finally meet you.”
“You, as well.”
Emi’s seated next to her, and she stands up to hug me. It’s not our normal hug, as her hands barely touch my arms. Colin’s too busy eating a chip to even shake my hand. I finally find my way back to the empty chair and take a seat next to Sam. She’s introducing herself to Anna and complimenting her on the shirt she’s wearing.
“You remember Emi,” I mention at the end of their conversation.
“Of course,” she says with a small wave across the table at my friend.
“And that’s her date, Colin.” I refuse to call him her boyfriend.
“Pleasure,” he says, stretching his hand over my plate to shake hers.
“I’m Samantha,” she says to him. He nods once, returning to his appetizer. Pleasant guy. Real winner, Em.
I try to make eye contact with her to see what she thinks about his greeting, but she and Anna are laughing quietly together. Colin taps Emi on the shoulder once and holds a chip in front of her face.
“Taste this, babe,” he says to her. I catch myself cringing a second too late. He feeds her the chip, and she looks a little uncomfortable, her eyes meeting mine, then Chris’s. I fake a smile at her, then turn my attention to her brother.
“So, Colin,” he says, distracting him from feeding her any more food, at least for a few seconds. “Tell me what you do. Emi says you’re a writer?”
“Yeah, I write the sports column for the Journey News– LoHud– and I do some freelance now and then for Sports Illustrated.” One time he wrote an article for his hometown paper, and it was picked up by the well-known magazine. One time. I stave off my laughter and keep that fact to myself, not wanting anyone to know that I had done a little research on the guy.
“Any sport i
n particular?” I ask, joining the conversation.
“Football and baseball, mainly. I played both in college.”
“Really? Where?”
“SUNY,” he says.
“And what was your major?” I continue.
“Communications,” he says.
“Great, when did you graduate?” I already know the answer.
“I didn’t,” he begins, not an ounce of regret in his voice. “I was drafted to a minor league football team, so I took that gig and ran.” He laughs, proud.
“Excellent,” I say. “So, what happened with that career?” My tone is admittedly condescending, and he sits up straight in his chair, puffing his chest out.
“He had a leg injury,” Emi speaks up as she puts her hand on Colin’s. She slants her eyes at me. “His experience at his college newspaper got him the job at LoHud.”
“Sounds like an awesome job. What city is that paper in?”
“Rockland... Putnam...” He knows I’m mocking him.
“Right, right. Lots of high school reporting, I guess.”
“I hear there’s a baseball team in Putnam with a female pitcher,” Sam joins in, sensing the tension and trying to diffuse it. “My cousin goes to that school.”
“Really?” Colin says, genuinely interested. “I’ll have to look into that. That’d make a pretty good story.”
Sam smiles brightly, proud.
“I guess you know all about high school sports,” Emi pipes in, her attention directed at Sam. “Didn’t you just graduate last year?” Emi knows exactly when she graduated.
“No,” Sam says, then swallows, picking up on Emi’s tone. “I’m a junior at NYU.”
“What sorority are you in?”
“I’m not in any sorority,” Sam cocks her head slightly when she answers.
“Surprising,” Emi mutters under her breath. “I thought all prom queens were automatically drafted into some greek underworld or something.”
“You were the prom queen?” Chris’s date asks, hanging on to a fact that I wish I had never mentioned to Emi. Anna sounds genuinely interested, though. I like this woman already.
“Yeah, but that was a long time ago.” I can tell Sam’s embarrassed and doesn’t want to talk about it anymore.
“Three years,” Emi sighs. “So long ago...”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper to my date.
“No, it’s fine,” she says.
“Do you really want to talk about prom night, Em? Because, boy, do we have a story to tell.” She glares at me from across the table. When I look at Chris, he’s looking at me with contempt. Emi didn’t go to her senior prom out of principle and she had regretted it ever since. That night, she had locked herself in her room and wouldn’t come out. Her mother and I sat at the door and tried to talk some sense into her, but it didn’t work. It took a phone call from Chris later that night to calm her down. She told me to never bring it up, and I never had until now.
“Why? What happened on your prom night?” Colin asks her.
“Nothing,” she mumbles. “And that’s the truth.”
Colin shifts his focus to me, waiting for me to add to her story.
“You heard the lady.” I smile at him mischievously, which is sure to create more questions in his mind. “Wild,” I mutter aside, but loud enough for him to hear.
“Anna,” Chris jumps in. “Why don’t you tell everyone what you do.”
“I’m an interior designer,” she says with a blush.
“Nate has a great loft that could use a woman’s touch,” Sam says. “I’ve been trying to get him to redecorate. I have a lot of ideas. I’d love to talk to you about them!”
“Great!” Anna says. Emi’s attention is piqued, her eyes curious.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Sam,” I tell her. “Plus, everything there has a purpose. It’s all there to highlight the art.”
“Oh, right,” she says. “I didn’t mean–”
“It’s okay,” I cut her off, not wanting to hurt her feelings. Emi smugly smiles from across the table. “You know, maybe we can work on the guest bedroom together.”
“Really?” Sam asks as Emi chokes on her wine.
“Sure.” I lean down to kiss her gently. When we part, I glance to see Emi, looking away with purpose, revealing a mark just above her collarbone when her loose shirt slips off her shoulder. My first inclination is to point it out. “Did you scratch yourself or something? There’s a large red mark on your neck.” Asshole, marking his territory.
Instinctively, she immediately draws her hand over the hickey he had left on her delicate pale skin. She knew exactly where it is, and by the blush on cheeks, I’m certain she knows exactly what it is, as well.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lies. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go take a look.”
Colin smiles smugly, glaring at me as he downs his third beer.
“Nate,” Chris scolds me as Colin stands up, presumably to follow Emi. “Colin, have a seat, I’ll handle this,” he says. Emi’s boyfriend doesn’t argue, sitting back down and having another chip. As Chris leaves the table, he whispers over my shoulder, requesting me to follow him.
“I’ll be right back, sweetie,” I tell Sam as I squeeze her hand.
As we walk toward the bathrooms, he has a hard time keeping his cool. “What are you, four? You two are acting like children. You’re embarrassing yourselves— and me— in front of a woman I really like. Not to mention the unfortunate dates you both brought along.”
“I—”
“Fix this, Nate.” He goes into the men’s restroom, leaving me in the hallway alone. I wait for Emi to come out of the ladies room. As soon as she sees me, she attempts to push me, trying to move around me, but I block her from getting away. She glares at me angrily.
“This is turning out to be a great night, huh?” I ask her, trying to break the ice. It doesn’t work. She steps past me, but stays in the hallway, out of sight of the restaurant diners.
“What is your problem!?”
“Me? What is your problem?”
“You’re my problem,” she answers, crossing her arms across her chest.
“Yeah? Well why are you being such a bitch to Sam?”
“Excuse me?” she asks. “Why am I being a what?”
“You heard me,” I say, lacking the guts to repeat what I had called her.
“Why, Nate,” she says innocently, “I’m just trying to get to know her better. I assume you’re doing the same by belittling Colin?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“He has a good job, Nate. A steady job. He earns his own money... he wasn’t born with a silver spoon up his ass like some people I know.”
“Wow, my money never bothers you when you get to take advantage of its perks. Are you a little jealous?”
“Shut up, Nate. No way in hell am I jealous.” I laugh at her answer.
“So I’m supposed to like him because he has good work ethic? Tell, me, Em, does he have good grammar, too? I know that’s a requirement for you. Does he pass your test of they’re, their and there?”
“I’m sure he does.”
“And I’m sure you’re overlooking the obvious. You’ve lowered your standards to the gutter for this winner. I’ve read his articles, Emi. They suck.”
“Right,” she answers.
“I have. Have you? Because if you have, you’d realize they have no sports editor at LoHud, and you would have discovered that he does not, in fact, know the difference between they’re, their and there.”
“I don’t care,” she argues. “He knows a lot of other things.” I can tell by the tone of her voice what she’s insinuating.
“Yes, he’s left his proof on you,” I remind her. “Classy guy. Who needs money when he can give you your very own, personalized, front-facing tramp stamp? Look, it’s Emi’s red badge of fucking!” I say, pulling her shirt sleeve down to prove my point. When I look closer, I notice it’
s not a hickey after all. It’s a fresh bruise. Upon further inspection, I discover another one closer to the nape of her neck.
“Stop,” she says, adjusting her shirt.
“What is that, Emi?” I ask, suddenly concerned.
“It’s a hickey, just like you thought.
“No, it’s not. What the fuck are those?” I pull the sleeve away once more and lightly press my fingers into both.
“Ow,” she hisses.
“Are you guys finished over here?” Chris says from behind me. Emi quickly averts her eyes and pulls the sleeve back up again.
“We’re fine,” she answers him.
“No, Chris, come–” She grips my forearm tightly.
“We’re handling things,” she smiles at her brother. “We just need another minute or two.”
“Please do not make me regret bringing her to meet you. I really want this to work with her.” Before I have a chance to speak again, he turns on his heels and returns to the table.
I look back down at Emi, the shock still apparent on my face.
“Did Colin do this?” I brush her shoulder again to remind her of the marks.
“Shut up, Nate, you’re completely out of line. You don’t know him at all.”
“I’m trying to understand him,” I pause, realizing my lie. “No, I’m not. I couldn’t care less about him, and my god, Emi, if he is hurting you–”
“He’s not,” she says with a look of disgust on her face. “What just because he’s got more muscles than you, you think he beats me?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“I dropped some books from that shelf in my room,” she spits at me. “He had nothing to do with this.”
“Then why did you lie and say it was a hickey?”
“It makes for a much better story, doesn’t it?”
“Right, of course. Then why didn’t you let me have Chris take a look?”
“Because I know his temper, and I know he would jump to conclusions. And I know Colin’s strength... my brother wouldn’t stand a chance against him.”
“Well, what if I decide to take matters into my own hands, then?”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I might.”
