Save the Secret Date

by Ellie Cahill

  “What?” He adjusted his grip and drove the pad of one thumb down my shin. I groaned in appreciation.

  “What if I don’t want to wait until I’m thirty to get married?”

  “Not even if you knew your future husband was going to be perfect for you?”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Is he currently serving a prison sentence that it going to end when he’s thirty? Why do I have to wait for this superman?”

  “Just…hypothetically.”

  “What if I waited all those years on the promise that he’s perfect, but then it turns out we aren’t good together?”

  “But you would be. That’s what I mean. You’d be perfect together.”

  “What if he only seems perfect, but he’s really not.”

  “In this scenario, you already know that you’re completely compatible in every way. You just…get each other, know what I mean?” He slid his hands up the back of both calves, making my back arch.

  “But I don’t know. Not in every way.” My heart beat wildly. I wondered if he could feel my racing pulse through my skin. “Because we’ve never been together like that.”

  “Let’s say that’s perfect, too.”

  “Then why am I waiting at all?” I asked. “If this perfect partner, who is completely compatible with me in every way, including…that way…” I paused, wishing I didn’t sound so timid whenever I talked about sex. “If that man exists and is waiting for me to be 30, why aren’t I with him now?”

  “Maybe he lives far away.” Jake’s hands went still, resting on my ankles. “And maybe he can’t do anything about that right now.”

  Goosebumps. It was hard to speak, but I finally whispered, “And what if he never can?” I asked. “What if he always lives far away?”

  “Would you ever…be far away with him?”

  “I don’t know.” I bit my lip. “I couldn’t give up my current life on nothing but promises. And unanswered questions.”

  “What questions are those?”

  My throat was suddenly dry. So dry it was hard to swallow. “Important ones. Like…does he fall asleep with the TV on? Does he know he can’t put my bras in the dryer? Does he expect me to dress up in a French maid’s outfit every year for his birthday?”

  Jake laughed. “Those are your first three questions?”

  “The first of many.”

  “Well, if it were me, hypothetically, that we were talking about, the answers would be sometimes, I can be taught, and I wouldn’t be opposed to it?”

  “There are a lot more questions like that.”

  “Ask away.”

  “Does he always make the world stop when he kisses me, or was I just that drunk?”

  “That sounds like a question you can’t answer just once.”

  “I would need data for sure.” My heart pounded in my ears.

  “Anything I can do to help?”

  I nodded.

  “What do you need?”

  Sliding my feet out of his lap, I sat up beside him and leaned close. When my lips were inches from his, I whispered, “I’m gonna need you to kiss me.”

  15

  One Data Point

  When our lips met, it was as if two years had evaporated. There was that feeling again. The one I’d been unable to get out of my head for so long. The world stood still and narrowed down to the two of us. Jake’s mouth on mine, opening softly and his tongue making the barest sweep against mine before retreating. Then back again while his arm curved around me and pulled me closer. I couldn’t distinguish the rushing sound of my blood from the ocean; I was the ocean and the ocean was me.

  The swing made the world unsteady beneath us as we tried to get closer, and yet still he was the calm center of it all. The only solid thing that mattered.

  He kissed me breathless, and when he finally relinquished my lips I gasped.

  “How was that?” he asked.

  “That was…that was good.”

  “Just one data point, though, right?”

  “Yes. I need a lot more.”

  He was down with that. We kissed again. And again. And again. We melted back onto the ever-shifting swing and I was so grateful for it’s ostentatious size as it easily accommodated us together. The sound of the ocean surrounded us as we swayed gently in the dark, wound around each other in a way that we’d never been before.

  The night we’d cuddled in my bed had been as chaste as two people in their underwear could be in a twin bed. Jake had been in charge of our dignity, as limited as it might have been. And although in sleep we had ended up curled together and his shirt had ridden up high on my ribs, he hadn’t been the one to do it. He’d been so careful, resisted so well, that for two years I wasn’t even sure he’d wanted to be with me.

  Tonight was different. Tonight he wasn’t worried about my sobriety and he gave in. The kisses were only a part of it. Tonight there were curious hands and zippers lowered and my skirt merely a band of fabric around my waist. And his hands. My god his hands on my body like he was a blind man exploring a sculpture by Michelangelo. And his mouth nibbling and kissing my mouth, my jaw, my throat, and my shoulders.

  For the first time in my life, I felt truly sexy. Like I and I alone was the reason for all these things he was doing to me. It wasn’t a means to an end for him. There was pleasure in the act of kissing my collarbone. Not just for me, but for him. Like he’d finally been unleashed on the thing he had wanted for so long.

  The feeling was so intense that my eyes welled with tears. I wasn’t crying, really, more like the magnitude of emotion was off my personal scales and it simply found an outlet.

  “Are you all right?” he whispered.

  I nodded.

  “You sure? You don’t seem all right.”

  “Hypothetically, I’m good.”

  He smiled, laughing softly. His breath on my cheek, and his laughter vibrating through my body was one of the best feelings I’d had in a long time. If my body had a Senate, it could have easily passed a resolution in favor of getting naked and seeing just how compatible Jake and I might be, but there were definitely a few holdouts filibustering in favor of staying right here for a long long time. Our clothes messily smushed between us, kissing, laughing, and me crying my strange, unwanted tears. It was perfectly senseless.

  I reached up to touch his face, tracing his lips and landing one fingertip in the center of his full lower lip.

  “Jake, what are we doing?”

  “I don’t know.” He caught my fingertip between his teeth.

  “What happens now?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Suddenly a light illuminated the dark windows of my room. I immediately went into high school mode—furiously pulling my dress down where it belonged and scrambling to sit up. I was out of practice with this kind of scramble, and I didn’t have a prayer of putting myself together completely.

  With the light on inside, we had the slight advantage. We could see everything looking in, and I could only hope that Ashley couldn’t see anything out here on the darkened balcony. Beside me, Jake was busily putting his clothes back in order.

  Ashley was obviously confused by my empty bed. She checked the bathroom, then I watched her type a text into her phone. My phone lit up on the balcony’s glass top table. Ashley noticed, and came straight to the balcony.

  I just barely managed to get my bra covered before she was outside with us. As soon as she saw she wasn’t alone, she screamed.

  “Jesus Tap-Dancing Christ you scared me!”

  “Sorry,” I said. “I thought you knew we were here.”

  “What are you…?” Her eyes went back and forth between us. I clamped my elbows harder to my sides, hoping my unzipped dress wouldn’t betray me at the wrong moment. “I thought you said you were going to bed.”

  “How was your walk on the beach?” I said pointedly.

  “We had a great time, thanks. You?”

  “Just hanging out,” I said.

  “We weren’t sure where you w
ere going to end up,” Jake added. “Figured I’d kill a little time.”

  “Looks like it.” Ashley’s eyes went to the floor. “Is that your belt, Jake?”

  Jake didn’t look. “That seems unlikely, doesn’t it?”

  “Very,” Ashley agreed. “And yet…”

  “Well, now that you’re back, I’m assuming it’s safe for me to go to bed.” Jake stood up. “Thanks for letting me hang out, Mary. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

  I wanted to follow him to the door. I didn’t know what I’d do there. Possibly kiss him goodnight? Or just stay in the hall kissing him all night long? Why does no one teach you how to gracefully end a make-out session? But I couldn’t even do that, because my dress was in serious danger of falling off if I moved. There was no way Ashley would miss the fact that I was unzipped to the waist if I stood up. Nope, I was going to have to sit here like a dog pretending he has no idea who could have possibly eaten the homework.

  “Sleep tight, Jakey!” Ashley sang after him.

  He didn’t answer, but gave a final wave without even turning.

  When the door closed behind him, Ashley looked at me expectantly. “So, uh…what the hell?”

  “Things go okay with Luke?” I asked. “You didn’t step on any jellyfish, did you?”

  “Mary, what is going on?”

  “Nothing. Like I said, we were just waiting up for you.”

  “Mmhm, mmhm. I can see that.” She nodded rapidly. “And you, what? Got a little warm and decided you’d just take a few items of clothing off? I mean, it is a lovely night. I can see how that would happen.”

  “I’m sure you do.” I met her gaze as steadily as I could, blinking only once and smiling calmly.

  “Mary! Come on! Did you hook up with Jake?”

  The likelihood that she was going to let this go was slim to none. The likelihood that I would somehow manage to get back into the room without her noticing my unzipped dress was even smaller. So I told her the truth. “I don’t know.”

  Her eyes flashed. “Oh my god. You totally are.”

  “It wasn’t—this was—look, can we please not talk about it?”

  “You and Jake!” she squealed. “Oh my god, Emmy is going to die.”

  “Please don’t tell Emmy!” I said.

  “Oh come on, she’ll think it’s adorable! He loved you so hard in college.”

  “First of all, no he didn’t. Second, please stop.” I said firmly. “Emmy is getting married tomorrow. She doesn’t need to hear about a bunch of nothing.”

  Ashley’s face morphed through several expressions of pain before reaching resignation. “Fine. But I am totally telling her after.”

  “No you’re not! It’s not even about you. If anyone tells her anything, it should be me.”

  “But it’s so juicy!”

  “Tell her about you and Luke if you want to tell her things.”

  “Me and Luke?” She tossed a dismissive hand. “Please. There’s nothing to tell. It’s purely a Mexico thing. I doubt I’ll ever see him again.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  “What about you and Jake? Is this a thing? Tell me everything.”

  “There’s nothing to tell.” I insisted.

  “Do you like him?” she asked. “Do you love him? Are you going to have his babies?”

  “Oh my god, Ashley, stop!” I got up, so eager to get away from her badgering that I forgot about the dress. The zipper gaped wide and I had to clutch at the straps to keep it from falling off completely. Ashley burst into delighted laughter.

  “Oooh,” she caroled, “Mary, you dirty girl!”

  “I just—would you just—oh shut up, Ash!” And with that, I stormed off to the bathroom.

  16

  Mandy’s Secret

  In the morning, I woke up before Ashley. This was not a surprise. I’ve always been an early riser, and being a nurse didn’t make sleeping late possible most of the time. This morning, my early awakening had more to do with my swirling thoughts than my circadian rhythms.

  There was a lot to unpack from the previous evening. Jake and I had done things and said things that might not ever been undone. And yet somehow, we’d still managed to avoid actually settling anything or getting me any closer to understanding my place in his life.

  Despite all of our hypothetical double-talk, I could at least assure myself that there was something between us. A spark, and something more than friendship. We were likely not going to succeed at being just friends anymore. But what did any of that matter when we were two-thousand miles apart? Some part of me had always wondered if Jake would come back to California after grad school. It was his home. There was certainly plenty of opportunity on the West Coast. It wasn’t like he’d have to stay in Chicago.

  But what if I’d been wrong all this time? Could it be that he would never be in our home state again? And did that mean he was choosing his job over me? Of course he was. We weren’t anything. Not officially. Certainly not enough to change the course of his entire life.

  I ran over our conversation in my mind for the millionth time. There were parts of it that were so clear to me, but some of it was blurred by my emotions. I couldn’t quite get a handle on what he thought the future held for us. I certainly didn’t know. Why would he?

  We were going to have to talk. More. And more honestly. Our mutual ability to keep secrets was making it awful hard to reveal them.

  I wondered if he was awake and thinking about me. It was tempting to text him, but I didn’t want his replies to wake Ashley. The last thing I wanted was to get back into a talk about Jake with her. I needed to talk to him, not her.

  I slithered out of bed, and tiptoed into the bathroom to get dressed for the day. Not that it takes long to get ready for your day on the beach. You put on a swimsuit, a cover up, and grab some sandals. Doesn’t get much easier than that.

  Of course I coated myself in sunscreen before heading out. I may have been anxious to see Jake, but that didn’t mean I was willing to ignore SPF.

  I figured I had at least a few hours before most of my friends were back in the land of the conscious after last night’s pub crawl, but I was hoping Jake was up. I sent him a text: Good morning. I’m going to breakfast if you’re up.

  There was no response by the time I got to the breakfast restaurant, and a quick scan of the tables didn’t find him. I did, however, spot Mandy from Iowa sitting at a table. She was red-eyed and puffy-faced, and she looked completely shocked to see me when I approached her.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle—”

  “No, it’s fine.” She tried to wipe her eyes, but the tears were not the only clue to her mental state and no amount of dabbing was going to make her look instantly cheerful. She forced a wobbly smile. “Hi Mary. Wait—it is Mary, right?”

  I nodded. “And you’re Mandy.”

  She groaned. “God, I am so bad with names! This is why I prefer dead people.”

  I must have given her a strange look, because she let out a watery laugh. “I’m a Pathologists Assistant, like Emmy and Beck. The patients I deal with are dead. And if they’re alive, I usually just have a chunk of them sent down to the lab. So, they don’t care that I can’t remember their names.”

  “Oh.”

  She chuckled again. “I’m not very good at talking to regular people.”

  “Um, I don’t mean to be rude, but are you all right?” I asked.

  “Yes.” Mandy tried to smile, but it wasn’t a very good effort. Again. “I’ll be fine.”

  “Do you…want to talk about it?”

  She shook her head, but her lips were trembling. My caretaker instincts took over and I searched around for the nearest source of tissue. There wasn’t any, so I snagged a napkin off the nearest table. Mandy started to cry as she accepted my offering.

  “Thank you!” she sniffled in a squeaky voice.

  I let her cry and blow her nose a few times before I had to give in to my instinct to comfort her and s
at down across from her. It’s always hard to tell if someone wants to be hugged or not, so I settled on patting her forearm.

  “It’s all right,” I said.

  “This is so stupid!” she said into the napkin. “I’ve got to get a hold of myself!”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

  She wiped her nose one more time, then sighed and lifted up her phone. “I just found out I didn’t get a job I applied for.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  With a sad laugh, Mandy leaned back in her chair. “Here’s the stupid part: I already have a job.”

  “Well, that’s good then, right?”

  “Yeah.” She didn’t sound sure. “It’s a really great job. A lot of people in my class wanted it. I should be excited.”

  “But you wanted the other job?” I asked.

  “Yeah.” She swiped at an errant tear that had escaped the corner of her eye. “But only because I’m a big chicken.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The job I got means I have to move. To New York.”

  “Oh, that sounds exciting.” I said what I figured anyone would say, but honestly, I understood her distress. I’d lived in Orange County my whole life. Apart from a few vacations, I’d never been anywhere.

  “Exactly. Practically everyone in my class applied for it when we saw the opening. Jobs just don’t open up there every day. And I got it.”

  “But…?”

  “I also applied for a job just outside Omaha—that’s where I’m from.”

  “Very different from New York, I’m guessing.”

  She nodded. “And I guess, secretly, I was hoping I’d get that one and not the job in New York.”

  “That’s understandable,” I said. “It’s familiar.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But you didn’t get the job.”

  “No.” Her eyes filled with tears again. “And now I’m going to have to move to New York and I don’t know anybody!” She sat up to seize another tissue and buried her face. “God, what is wrong with me?!”