Intoxicated

by Alicia Renee Kline

  Just when I was about to give up hope and suggest a black dress instead, he found it. As soon as he lifted it up from the rack, I knew it was the one. The color nearly matched my newly acquired necklace perfectly. It was a bandage style dress that fit like a glove, low cut enough that the necklace sparkled against my bare skin. Even though I wasn’t that well-endowed, it made me look feminine, not boyish. True to his word, Eric insisted that he foot the bill. I snuck a peek at the price as he paid for it; even though he didn’t bat an eyelash, I still felt a bit guilty.

  With my new purchase in hand, it was time to look for shoes. Fortunately, this was a much simpler task. A little under half an hour later, we were back in the BMW and headed to the condo.

  I looked over at Eric as he drove. His green eyes were fixed on the road, deep in concentration. He looked more relaxed than he had in recent memory. I knew this had a lot to do with me being by his side. We did quite well at balancing each other; his high-strung tendencies meshed well with my easy-going demeanor. He made things urgent when I would let them resolve organically. I told him to back off sometimes and let things run their course. We made a good team.

  If only our respective careers could be located in the same vicinity, things would be perfect. The majority of our arguments would disappear. That seemed to be the only thing we ever fought about. All of our anger stemmed from work-related complications. To this point, neither one of us had been willing to compromise.

  As the car zoomed through crowded streets, I closed my eyes and daydreamed. What if I was the one that gave in? What if I quit the bank and moved in with him? Eric made enough that he could provide for the two of us, though we might not be able to afford designer dresses and shoes with any regularity. It might cramp his style a little bit to have to live on a more defined budget. Me, I would be fine, but then again I was used to driving a fifteen year old car. Until recently, I had lived in nothing more than a shoebox and been happy to call it home.

  For me, the money wasn’t the sacrifice. I would be giving up more abstract things. My job had always been a source of pride, even before the promotion. I felt an unmistakable sense of accomplishment when presented with a task that others would find daunting, only to tackle it handily. I wasn’t afraid of challenges. The bank had realized this and had carefully groomed me for the role that I had today. They had believed in my potential, and it was my goal to prove them right. Leaving shortly after they had given me everything I had ever wanted from them didn’t seem to be the proper way to show my appreciation.

  Aside from all work related issues, I would have to give up my new life in Fort Wayne. As much as I had been scared that I wouldn’t like it, that I wouldn’t fit in, I had taken to it quite easily. Being the second-largest city in Indiana, it still retained enough of the big city feel without the traffic jams. What people complained about there was nothing compared to rush hour in Indy. Of course, I owed much of that comfortableness to Blake and Matthew. I seriously doubted that Eric would be happy if I came back more than occasionally to visit. Perhaps I could work something out when he was away on one of his many business trips.

  The car braked abruptly, shattering my reverie. Beside me, Eric mumbled an expletive or two under his breath. I shook my head, trying to rid my brain of any notion of giving in. I was going to stand my ground on this one. He didn’t realize what he was asking of me. I, in turn, would have to re-evaluate what I was expecting from him.

  We were only twenty-six. Was marriage really that important at this point in our lives? Eric didn’t seem to think so. Maybe I was just being the typical girl who began planning their wedding as a child, certain that since I had found the one that I needed to act on it immediately, if not sooner. If we could have it all, plus each other, did I really need a ring on my finger? As long as we could have weekends like this one, it would be enough to keep our relationship alive, right?

  “What are you thinking about?” Eric asked.

  The sudden conversation made me jump slightly in my seat. Embarrassed, I giggled nervously. “Steak.”

  He full out laughed. My obsession with steak was well documented. Thus, the reservations tonight. The odd comment made perfect sense to him, and I had successfully skirted around the true issue.

  “What are you thinking about?” I shot back.

  “That dress in the trunk. Both on and off of your body,” he smirked.

  I playfully swatted him on the shoulder. In reality, it was quite flattering for him to be so attracted to me. As I expected, the second we got back to his place and closed the door behind us, he was all over me. My shopping bags dropped to the floor right inside the condo and we ran to the bedroom like two crazed teenagers.

  He had certainly gone all out to make up for his previous wrongs. From the breakfast, to the shopping, to the intimacy this had been the perfect day. Even as we piled into the BMW to go to dinner I was still flushed from the attention. Things had gone better than I ever could have expected. I knew this was my time to bring up Thanksgiving. He would likely be rather agreeable to my invitation. If not, he would remain calm in order to not make a scene.

  We were seated at a table in the far corner of the restaurant, tucked away by the roaring fireplace. I imagined that Eric had put in a special request or slipped the lady that seated us a nice bribe in order to get such a secluded spot. Sitting across from each other it was as if we were the only two here.

  Our waiter came and took our order. I let Eric order for me; he knew exactly what I wanted anyway. For whatever reason, it made him feel like a real man, a true caretaker, if he looked like he took control of every situation. I was so used to it that I chose to embrace it rather than fight it. Let him order my steak if it meant that much to him.

  He gazed at me, his eyes sparkling in the candlelight. “I love that dress on you.”

  “And I love you.”

  He smiled, but didn’t return the sentiment. Just once I wished he would say it. I tried to weasel it out of him, but he was always one step ahead of me, beating around the bush. They were only words. Why were they so difficult for him to say?

  I took a deep breath and reviewed my plan of attack. It was now or never.

  “So,” I began, running my finger along the rim of my water glass, “Thanksgiving is coming up in a little bit.”

  “Very true.”

  “I was thinking of having everyone come to Fort Wayne to see my new city. I talked with my dad about it to see if he would be interested in coming, but we haven’t made any definite plans.”

  “And you’re asking me for my opinion?”

  “Well, not exactly. I’m asking if you would come. I was thinking of seeing if Gracie could come too.”

  “Lauren,” he said, not effectively masking his grimace at my last statement, “logistically it’s not the most convenient plan. Three of us would have to drive up from Indy to see one of you.”

  “It wouldn’t be just to see me. Blake and Matthew would be there, too. Their family situation is a little bit strained, so they really don’t have anywhere to go. And you could see where I live. Possibly. I mean, we have talked about having it at Matthew’s house, but I’m not sure.”

  “Still, the three of you could all come down together. Or is the ex-con on probation or something and not allowed to leave the county?”

  “Eric,” I scolded.

  Just then, the waiter returned with our meals, setting them between us silently while we shot daggers across the table at one another. He retreated without a word. Smart man. I unfolded my cloth napkin and spread it across my lap. Grabbing the steak knife in my hand, I contemplated threatening Eric with it. We sat mutely for a couple of minutes, grateful for the distraction of our main course. I focused my attention on neatly cutting my steak, letting the repetitive motion calm me down.

  “I’m just saying,” he said firmly, “I’ve never really associated with someone who has been on the wrong side of the law before. I don’t know how these things work. But since you’re the new re
sident expert, please advise.”

  “First of all, it was a DUI.”

  “Two,” he interjected.

  “Fine. Two. It’s not like he held up a bank or anything. Don’t get me wrong, he made some really stupid decisions. But he didn’t do anything that you haven’t done before.”

  “Lauren.”

  “No, don’t pretend. You act like you’re Mister Responsible when you are around me, but I’m sure that you’ve driven home a little tipsy before when I’m not here.”

  He stared down at his plate. It was as good as admitting his guilt.

  “I never hurt anyone.”

  “He didn’t either. He just got caught. It was years ago. He has done his time and he feels awful about it. He doesn’t understand why I don’t hate him.”

  “Neither do I.”

  I sighed. I could feel control of the conversation slipping away from me. Eric was determined to hate Matthew, and he hadn’t even met him.

  “Look,” I said softly, “like I told him, I’m not about to blame him for what happened to my mother. He had no part of that. It's a huge coincidence, but maybe we were meant to meet each other. He has been abandoned by his family because of this. So has Blake. Maybe he just needs to hear from me that he’s not a total failure. Maybe he needs me to symbolically forgive him. Whatever the case, he is my friend, and I’m going to be there for him.”

  “Are you sure that’s all you are? Friends?”

  My heart froze in my chest. Eric’s accusing eyes burned into mine. I tried as best as I could to regain my composure. Had he noticed my nervous breakdown this morning? Had I said something in my sleep that clued him in to what the subject of my dream had been? Had he put two and two together and assumed the worst?

  “I cannot believe that you would accuse me of cheating on you.” The voice that I spoke in was unfamiliar to me, icy and bordering on hysteric. My lower lip trembled, but I wasn’t about to cry. Adrenaline pumped through my body as I considered my next move. I had half a mind to toss my glass of water in his direction and walk out on him. I had my purse; I could call a cab back to the condo, hop in my Honda and be back on the road in forty-five minutes.

  “Honey,” he said, reaching across the table and taking my hand, “I didn’t mean it that way. Calm down.”

  I yanked my fingers out of his grasp and clutched my water glass. I raised it to my lips, never once breaking eye contact. The ice cold liquid felt like fire as I swallowed it down. I focused on it traveling down my throat, silently wondering how Eric would crawl out of the hole he just dug.

  “I’m a guy, Lauren,” he began.

  My eyebrow raised.

  “I know how guys think. You are attractive and nice to him, and eventually he is going to want more. Guys just can’t be friends with women. There’s always some ulterior motive. Do you see me making nice with other women?”

  “I barely see you at all,” I reminded him.

  He winced. “Well I don’t. I wouldn’t say I’m rude. I’m just not friends with them. I wouldn’t want them to get the wrong idea. I am committed to you.”

  I coughed involuntarily. The look in his eyes was full of sincerity. He really believed this.

  “You have a funny way of showing it,” I allowed once I caught my breath.

  “I know that I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately. I know that I have put work first a couple of times. But really, it’s no different than what you have done. We are both driven people. I don’t expect you to back down, either. We’ve both put ourselves first instead of focusing on our relationship. And when that happens, feelings are going to get hurt.”

  I really doubted that he had broken down in tears when I decided to move. Somehow the thought of him curled up into a ball on his couch didn’t come to mind as his first response to the news. Drinking, yes. Throwing something, maybe. The way I remembered it, it was as if he had been indifferent. Indifferent followed by pissed off.

  “My promotion wasn’t a surprise. I had been groomed for this position practically since I started there. For you to act like it came out of nowhere is just ignorant. Did you really think that I would work that hard to get something and then just turn it down? I hardly put that in the same category as you conveniently forgetting about some business trip until an hour before you’re supposed to pick me up and calling me from the airport.”

  “I’ve apologized for that.”

  “By buying me things. Not by saying the words. Not by telling me what a big mistake you made. Not by any means that mattered.”

  I glared at him from across the table. Guilt was written all over his expression. He looked as though I had punched him in the stomach. I wasn’t sure if the reaction was from true remorse or because I was taking a stand and calling him out. I crossed my arms over my chest, pushing myself away from the table slightly. As far as I was concerned, this dinner was over.

  The waiter appeared out of nowhere to drop off the check. The irony was not lost on me. If it was up to me, I would have given him a huge tip. Eric snatched it up, sliding his credit card into the folder and putting it back on the table without even giving the total a glance. I wondered if this dinner was courtesy of his expense account or if he was actually footing the bill.

  “I’m going to the restroom,” I decided. “I’ll meet you at the car.”

  Before he could respond, I pushed my chair back and rose from the table. The walk across the entire dining area to the ladies room felt like the walk of shame. As I teetered on my new, uncomfortable heels, I imagined the other diners staring at me sympathetically. Given the volume of our conversation, I was pretty sure that no one had been able to eavesdrop, save for possibly our waiter. Realistically, I was just any other patron needing to freshen up. No one would pay me any mind. Still, I breathed a sigh of relief as the door swung shut behind me, thankful for the refuge.

  I set my purse on the granite countertop and pulled out my cell phone. No missed calls, no voice mails, no texts. Not even an email advertisement announcing an online sale. I was alone here, cut off from the outside world. I had secretly hoped to stumble across a message from either Blake or Gracie, asking for details of my weekend so far. Of course, since I had recently gushed to both of them about how Eric and I were finally going to be together, they were giving me space. I contemplated sending a quick text to see if they were available, but my pride caused me to shove the phone back in my bag. I wasn’t ready to admit defeat.

  I had to go out there and stand my ground. Eric owed me this. I was the one who had been understanding so many times before; it was his turn now. I needed to pull up my big girl pants and face this head on.

  I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Eric had given me a back-handed compliment by telling me I was so attractive that I couldn’t be friends with a guy. I didn’t think I needed to put a bag over my head, but I just didn’t see it. Looks didn’t mean everything, right? I had spent lots of time during our relationship by myself, miles away from Eric. Men hadn’t exactly fallen at my feet then. Why did he think it would be any different now? Because this one in particular had a name? A reason to be at my place? A criminal record?

  After an appropriate amount of time had passed, I exited the restaurant and headed to the parking lot. I was certain that Eric would have settled the bill by now and retreated to his car. Even though I had a key for the condo, he had never entrusted me with the key to his BMW. I wasn’t going to wait out in the cold for him to unlock it; that wouldn’t prove anything other than my stupidity. I wanted to make him wait a little bit, make him squirm. I knew he would sit there, waiting. He wouldn’t leave me.

  True to my prediction, I saw him sitting in the driver’s seat as I approached. The car wasn’t running yet. As he saw me coming, he started the engine. I slid in to the passenger seat without a word and fastened my seatbelt.

  The drive back to his place was made in silence. He drove neither fast nor slow, but exactly the speed limit when possible in the weekend traffic. I stared out the wi
ndow, watching the streetlights and sights of my hometown from a different perspective. For once, I was ready to go home. Home being Fort Wayne. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. In such a short time, I had been able to disassociate myself from the place where I had grown up, where I had always lived.

  He pulled the BMW into its assigned spot and shut off the engine. He made no move to exit so I sat there, too. I stared sideways at him, looking past him to my own car. After a moment of uncomfortable quiet, I cleared my throat. This seemed to bring him out of his trance.

  “If it means so much to you,” he said softly, drawing out the words as though they pained him to utter them, “then I will come for Thanksgiving.”

  Without waiting for a response, he popped open the driver’s side door and stalked to the elevator. Stunned, I followed behind him.

  I had won this battle, but could I win the war?

  Chapter Thirteen

  The rest of the visit with Eric went as well as could be expected. After he had conceded defeat, he retreated to the bedroom. I trailed behind, unsure if I was reading his signals correctly. I knew there would be no extracurricular activities tonight, but wasn’t sure if I should assume I would be invited in at all. I half expected him to ask me to bunk on the couch, but he didn’t say anything to that effect. He gazed at me as I unzipped my dress and changed into a pair of flannel shorts and a t-shirt. His expression was unreadable. We both climbed into bed, lying as far apart as the king sized mattress would allow.

  When morning came, I made some flimsy excuse about needing to return to the office to finish up some work I hadn’t done on Friday. Instead of begging me to stay, he took this at face value and nodded. He understood work and being busy; maybe he didn’t think it was a lie. At any rate, he sat at the kitchen table poring over the Sunday newspaper as I gathered my belongings and prepared to leave. He barely addressed me as I returned to his side, my overnight bag slung over my shoulder. I promised him I would text him the directions to wherever Thanksgiving would be held. He mumbled an acknowledgment and kissed me dismissively on the cheek.