by Beth Michele
“That’s okay. I’m sorry that I upset you. Can I make it up to you, say tonight?”
I’m not giving up my Friday night. “I can’t tonight, but how about next week?”
“Sure. I’ll call you tomorrow. I can’t wait to see you, Gabby.”
“Okay, bye Dane.”
Friday is always takeout and movie night. I rent Pretty Woman. Why? Because I’m a hopeless, sappy romantic and I love happy endings...especially one involving Richard Gere. By the time I pick everything up and make it home, I’m completely drained. Ripping off my work clothes in favor of my trademark sweatpants and a tank top, I settle in under a warm, soft blanket with some chicken and broccoli, and Richard Gere.
Just as I get settled, my cell phone rings. I consider not answering it since Fran is with Kyle, but pick it up just in case it’s her. It’s Brad.
“Hey, you,” he says, with that ability to always make me smile even through the freaking phone.
“Hey, yourself.”
“Whatcha up to?”
“I’m getting ready to eat takeout and watch a movie. What about you?
“I’m closing up for the night. What movie?”
I’m almost embarrassed to share. “Pretty Woman,” I answer sheepishly.
“That just happens to be my favorite movie.”
Liar. “Yeah right.”
“Seriously, I like Julia Roberts.”
“I’m sure you do,” I say with playful sarcasm.
He laughs. “I don’t think I like your tone, little lady.”
I think I’d like to see him. “Do you want to come over and see Julia Roberts then?”
“Okay, but only if you have popcorn.”
“Why is that?” I don’t think we have any popcorn.
“Just in case I need to throw it at you.”
I laugh. “See you soon.”
“You betcha.”
Putting down the phone, I let what I just did sink into my brain. I just invited Brad over to my apartment. What was I thinking? I wasn’t thinking. Or maybe I was thinking. I don’t know. It’s only cute, sweet, adorable Brad. It’s not a date or anything. Yeah, okay Gabby, whatever.
I rush into the bathroom to brush my hair and throw a little lip gloss on. Realizing I’m bra-less, I take one out of my drawer and put it on, then fish through my closet and put a different shirt on; one without stains.
The doorbell rings, and inhaling a deep breath, I make my way over to answer it. There stands Brad, smiling with every ounce of himself.
“Come on in, Julia’s been waiting for you.”
“Oh, I was hoping it was you who was waiting for me.”
Gulp. “So, are you hungry? I have a lot of chicken and broccoli left.”
“Sure, that’d be great.” He hands me a cup with The Brew House logo. “Here. I know it’s kind of late for caffeine, so I brought you a peppermint hot chocolate.” Brad’s eyes roam the kitchen counter and land on the bags of Twizzlers and Swedish Fish. “What’s all this?” he asks, obviously excited.
“Ah, you mean my secret addiction. I love candy. I buy it any chance I get and stockpile it. I guess you could call me a candy hoarder.”
His amused eyes scan my face. “Well, looks like your secret’s out.”
“I’m truly relieved,” I say, blowing out a breath. “It’s been hard hiding that for so long.” I stop when I realize what I’ve said. He has no idea how true that statement is. “So, what do you want to watch?”
“What do you mean? I thought we were watching Pretty Woman?”
“Wouldn’t you rather watch Terminator or something?”
“Terminator? You actually have that movie here?”
“Well, no.”
Brad looks at me strangely. “Why are you suggesting it then?”
“Because it’s more…” I look up at the ceiling, as if an answer is going to fall down in the form of peeling paint. “I don’t know…manly.”
“Are you suggesting I’m too manly to watch Pretty Woman?”
“Well, no…but…”
“Listen, remember me? I’m the one who took you to see Looney Tunes. I think I can handle Pretty Woman.”
I throw my hands up in the air. “Okay, if you insist.”
“I do.”
I meander into the kitchen and reach up on my tippy toes, grab a plate and fork for Brad, and load it up with chicken and broccoli, then fill up a glass of ice water for him.
Panic sets in as I make my way over to the sofa. I don’t know where to sit. Oh my God, I feel like I’m in freaking high school. Standing there nervously, I start twirling my hair with my fingers and sucking on my lip.
“Earth to Gabby?”
“Um…Yeah?”
“Are you going to sit or do you want to finish eating your lip first?”
“Uh…okay.”
I hand Brad the plate and sit down next to him, but not too close. Then I reach around and grab a blanket but when it doesn’t quite reach him, he eases over a bit. Our knees are touching and it’s making it hard to concentrate on the movie. I put my hands underneath my legs and sit there like a statue. A very tired one.
Somewhere between Julia Roberts watching I Love Lucy and Stuckey getting punched in the face, I fall asleep. I awaken to a soft shoulder and tender brown eyes.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep like that.” I’m completely mortified. I hope there’s no drool on my face.
“That’s okay. I quite liked it. Except for the part where you were drooling and snoring.”
I nudge his shoulder. “I don’t drool or snore.”
“How would you know? You were sleeping.”
Being this close to Brad gives me a chance to peek at the tattoo around his bicep that I’ve been eyeing for so long. It looks like two scripted names wrapped around each other, with a small pink rose in the center. Curiosity gets the best of me. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure, anything.”
“Your tattoo…” I trail off. Brad’s expression falls and I immediately regret saying the words. “I’m sorry…I ju…”
“No, it’s okay, really. It’s…it’s in memory of my mom and my sister. The name Clara wraps around the name Sofia. Clara was my sister and Sofia was my mom. My mom passed away when I was twelve, and my sister Clara, who I’ve mentioned before, passed away five years ago. Both from breast cancer.”
I suddenly feel an overwhelming ache in my heart for him. “Brad, I’m so sorry.”
“They were the two most important women in my life. I got the tattoo in remembrance, although it would be impossible to forget either one of them. They were both so full of life, and appreciated it in a way I’ve always admired. You actually remind me of them in some ways.”
I don’t know what to say. Reaching over, I weave my fingers through his. Brad looks down at our hands and pauses a moment before he continues.
“My mom was so amazing. She was always there for me. When I was a kid, she played with me all the time. Whether I was in the mud, playing basketball, or roughhousing, she was always right there beside me. She was a constant in my life, and I always knew she loved me no matter what I did.
“She sounds like she was very special.”
“Yeah,” he sighs. She really was. It was so hard when she got sick, though. I had to watch as the disease took over her body and her mind until I no longer recognized her anymore. After she died, I was lost. I needed her so badly. So I started skipping school and purposely getting into fights. I was so angry, and just didn’t know how to handle it.”
“I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you.”
“I just wanted her back, you know. My dad put me in therapy for a while, before he went off the deep end himself. Now he lives in Ohio and is a bit of a recluse. He took her death really hard; not that I blame him. She was the love of his life. After that, he was never the same. He just became…lifeless and bitter.”
“So, do you still have contact with him?”
“No, not anymore. He blames the world for my mom’s death. I felt that way, too, at first. I had so many questions and I was angry. But over time and with therapy, I realized I’d never know why. And for whatever reason, God felt that it was her time. When my sister passed though, that was the last straw for Dad. It pushed him over the edge. She’d been sick for a while and we had to watch her disappear right in front of our eyes.” His eyes have a faraway look and there’s a hint of a smile on his lips. “Clara was a real spitfire…larger than life. She had a mind of her own and no one could tell her anything. I remember just before she got diagnosed she was planning on backpacking across Europe. When we found out about the cancer, my dad practically forbade her to go because he was afraid something would happen to her while she was gone.” He chuckles. “But did she go? She sure as hell did. She said, ‘“Hey, if I’m dying, I might as well go out with a bang. The living have to keep on living.’” His eyes make their way to mine. “I miss her fire…her spirit.”
“What about your brother, Matt?”
“Since he lives in Los Angeles, we don’t see each other a lot, but we’re really close. We talk on the phone every other day, and make an effort to fly out and see each other at least four times a year.”
Brad looks at me now. “How about your family? I’ve only heard you talk about them briefly.”
“Ah…that’s a dysfunctional story at best. How much time do you have?” He just stares at me, waiting for me to go on. “My mom and dad are very self-absorbed, so needless to say we’re not very close. They never supported my choices unless it was what they wanted for me. I’m kind of a big disappointment to them. My dad lives his own life with his new wife in Atlanta and barely has time for me unless he happens to be in the neighborhood. My mom is so wrapped up with her clothing store in San Francisco and her new boyfriend every six months that the best she can do is call me once a month, if that. I have a sister, but we’re not close. They don’t get me. They never did.”
“I’m really sorry, Gabby.” He squeezes my hand.
“It’s okay. They just don’t know who I am. They don’t even know how much I like chocolate. Or that my favorite thing in the whole world is to curl up with a good book and get lost, and when I’m finished reading how sometimes I’m in tears because I’m affected so much. Because I feel so deeply. They tend to do a lot of talking and not much listening. After a while, I just stopped trying to talk to them. I guess I gave up on them ever really knowing me.” Tears are starting to surface and I move to cover my face.
Brad leans in and presses a kiss to my cheek. His lips feel so soft. “It’s their loss, Gabby. They’re missing out on someone very special.”
The hour is getting late and Brad and I decide to call it a night. A part of me doesn’t want him to leave. I like having him here. He makes me forget.
Grabbing his leather jacket off the chair, I hand it to him, but not before I inhale the faint scent of Brad mixed with coffee.
I look into Brad’s eyes with complete sincerity. “Thank you, for showing me who you are tonight.”
He leans forward and places a sweet, lingering kiss on my cheek that warms my skin. “Thank you for sharing Julia Roberts with me,” he says with a gleam in his eye.
***
I didn’t sleep well, my mind consumed with thoughts of soft brown eyes and tattoos. In fact, those are the same brown eyes that have been consuming my dreams night after night. Even though Dane and I aren’t exclusive, or really dating, feelings of guilt are seeping into my brain but flickers of happiness seem to be melting them away, slowly but surely.
The bright blue sky and warm sunlight awakens me. I must’ve been drooling last night, because my hair is glued to my face and I’m practically eating it. Gross. I step into the shower and take a little bit too long scrubbing myself as my mind drifts to the soft lips that I’m desperate to kiss.
Fran is still sleeping and I nudge her before I leave so she’s not late for work. I don’t remember exactly, but there’s some big account and she has to go in for a few dreaded hours on a Saturday. Giving her a quick peck on the cheek, I head out the door.
I find myself grinning as I walk the streets of Manhattan today. In fact, I’m grinning so much that I feel as though everyone is staring at me like I have a big secret. Well, maybe I do. On the way to The Brew House, I walk by a store that catches my eye. There are cards and plaques with simple quotes about life in the window, but what I notice most is a wristband with a pink ribbon for breast cancer awareness. I have just enough time to stop. Walking inside the store, I make my way over to the display. Most of the bracelets look pretty feminine, but then I see one that’s stainless steel and leather. There are two ropes of black with a tiny pink ribbon imprinted on a stainless steel clasp. Perfect.
Taking a deep breath, I join the line at the coffee shop. When Brad’s eyes meet mine, my pulse quickens. There’s been a shift of some sort; I can feel it. Something about him pulls at me strongly, like we’re having some sort of tug of war and I’m losing. There are no flirty girls today, so I’m able to make my way right up to the counter.
Brad’s smile reflects mine. “Morning, cutie.”
I melt just like the Wicked Witch. “Morning,” I reply, unable to do anything else but smile.
“Did you sleep well last night?”
Yes, because I was dreaming of you, again. “Yeah, really well.” I have to look away for a moment to hide the four shades of pink crawling up my cheeks.
“So, what do you want today?” Brad says with his lopsided dimple.
That now-familiar blush seems to have settled in for the long haul. “I’ll have an iced vanilla latte, please.”
“Absolutely.”
I need to give Dane a call. I told him we’d get together this week. He called twice last night and once already this morning. I tried ignoring, but I don’t think avoiding him is going to work as a breakup tactic. Given all the calls, he appears to be a bit irritable about it. Perhaps he’s sexually frustrated. Although I’m sure there are a million girls out there who could ease his pain. I just don’t want to be one of them anymore. I definitely need to make sure we meet in public, so there’s no danger of getting caught in his sexual web.
My phone rings and startles me. “Hey, Fran.”
“Hey, sweetie! Thanks for waking me up this morning. I would’ve totally overslept. Kyle and I had a bit of a late night last night.”
I chuckle. “I’m sure you did.”
“Actually,” Fran sings, “Kyle took me to meet some of his family.”
“WHAT?” I shout through the phone.
She laughs hysterically. “Gabby, it was amazing. They are the nicest people. Do you know he’s got three brothers and three sisters? I met four of them last night, and his mom and dad. We had dinner and then we played Scrabble. It was so fun!”
I’m shocked. “You played Scrabble? You don’t even like games! Wow, Kyle’s really doing a number on you.”
Her tone gets serious. “Yeah, he is Gabby.” Now I hear her smiling brightly through the phone. “You know, he didn’t let go of my hand the entire night and I really felt like I was a part of his family. It was…amazing.”
“Well, I want to hear more about this later. I want details!”
“Cool. So listen. Kyle and I are going to the Sky Bar Tonight. Do you feel like coming out with us?”
This sounds like the perfect neutral place to have a conversation with Dane. “That sounds great. I’m going to ask Dane, too.”
“You mean the Dane you don’t give a shit about?”
“FRAN!!!” I bark.
“Well, let’s be real. He’s nothing more than a good screw. Your words.”
I laugh. “Well, I have to talk to him tonight, and I don’t want to do it alone.”
“Ah…afraid you’ll get caught up in his web of sex?”
“Something like that.”
We agree to meet at the Sky Bar at seven o’clock. I call Dane after and leave a voicemail.
>
Brad brings me my drink and slides into the booth next to me. I’m still loving the table service. When he hands it to me, his fingers deliberately skim mine and I feel that familiar shiver. He hesitates, and for a moment I think he feels it, too.
I play nervously with the smooth ends of my hair. “I have something for you.”
His eyes light up. “For me?”
I take out the bracelet, which is artfully wrapped in tissue paper, and hand it to him. He slowly opens the crumpled pink tissue and runs his fingers over the leather and the clasp. I wish I knew what he was thinking.
He looks up with a hint of tears lacing his eyes and shakes his head as if in disbelief. “Thank you, Gabby. No one’s ever done anything like this for me before. I can’t tell you how much it means to me.”
I see his eyes dart over to my wrist. I bought myself something, too. A pink wristband that says celebrate courage. He runs his fingers over the writing and looks up at me.
I shrug my shoulders. “I wanted to wear one, too.”
His fingers wrap around my wrist, his thumb resting on the bracelet. My insides quiver. While his mouth is moving, it’s his eyes that are speaking to me. “Really, Gabby. Thank you.” His thumb continues to rub my wrist gently and we just sit there, staring at one another. I know I need to get up, but every cell in my body is so relaxed and happy that I can’t move.
Finally, Brad is the one who gets up. “I need to get back behind the counter.”
I look up shyly. “Yeah, I really need to get to work.”
Brad helps me up from the booth, grabs my portfolio, and hands it to me.
“I guess I’ll see you later.”
His dimple smiles at me. “You can bank on that.”
With my portfolio and latte in hand, I finally make my way out the door. This time, I take a prolonged look over my shoulder. As the door closes, Brad’s eyes meet mine, and the corners of his lips rise sweetly. Adorable. Absolutely adorable.
