Intoxicated

by Alicia Renee Kline

  “Oh, sunshine,” Matthew said playfully, “such the drama queen you are. Don’t worry; you’ll get to go somewhere with me soon. I’ll even let you pick. I’m sure there’s some art exhibit you want to go to coming up.”

  She smiled evilly. “I’ll find something, I’m positive of it.”

  “Well, now I’m just afraid.”

  “As you should be, dork. Now that Lauren has stolen my thunder, here’s your present from me.”

  She handed him an expertly wrapped package and took her seat. He tore into the wrapping paper to reveal a box containing a new camera. The look on his face was priceless, like he’d just received the best gift ever. He opened the box to extricate the item from its packaging. Even with my lack of knowledge about photography, I could tell it was an expensive piece of equipment.

  I hadn’t realized he’d had an interest in the hobby. As I sat there while Blake rattled off features of the camera in what sounded like a foreign language and Matthew nodded enthusiastically, it was my turn to feel like a third wheel. There was so much I didn’t know about him. So much he hadn’t told me. So many things I didn’t know to ask about. Yet in the short time since we had met, his life had become seemingly meshed with mine. I had felt a distinct loss those weeks when we hadn’t communicated, as if the orbit of my small little world had noticeably shifted.

  “If you two are going to go all geeky on me,” I interrupted, “I’m going to get the cake ready. I can at least understand that.”

  “The fire extinguisher is by the back door!” Blake called helpfully as I made my way into the kitchen. Her snide remark was quickly followed by “Ow!” and then laughter.

  Blake did have a point. Thirty candles took a while to light, and the sight of the finished product was sort of like staring directly at the sun. I had considered carrying it out to the living room and setting it on the table, but didn’t trust myself to pick up a large flaming object for transport. Instead, I decided on calling the siblings back into the kitchen.

  When they returned, Blake had the new camera in hand. They had obviously spent the time alone doing at least a little research with the owner’s manual, for she was preparing to snap the inaugural picture. Either that, or she was more technologically savvy than I gave her credit for. I seriously doubted that I would have been able to get the thing turned on by now, let alone be ready to take a picture with it.

  True to form, I ducked out of the way as Matthew rounded the breakfast bar. Blake took her place across from him to get two pictures. The first was him standing next to the cake, the second an action shot of him blowing out the candles. As she snapped photos, the two of us sang a – offkey on my part – spirited version of Happy Birthday. I never would have guessed that Blake had the voice of an angel, but she did. The two of them just kept surprising me.

  We cut the cake and headed back to the living room and its more comfortable seating. With only three of us sharing in the festivities, there was quite a bit left even though we had all taken pretty sizable slices. I figured that at the end of the night I would wrap the remainder up for Matthew to take home with him. By the way Blake was attacking her piece, though, I figured she might try to talk me out of that option. I supposed we could leave it here, but only if I could be assured that things would return to normal and her brother would again be our frequent dinner guest.

  The doorbell rang and all of us looked at one another, clearly not expecting anyone. I shrugged as Blake rose to her feet, answering her silent question.

  “Probably just someone trying to sell something,” I muttered, returning to my cake.

  Blake was still holding her plate as she sauntered over to the door. She took another bite of cake, beyond annoyed that someone was intruding on our private party. Personally, I would have chosen to just ignore it, though it was a little hard to pretend no one was home when the house was totally lit up. She probably figured it was easier to deal with the distraction and make it go away rather than trying to hide from it.

  “So, about the concert,” Matthew said quietly, taking advantage of his sister being occupied momentarily, “do you think Gracie would let us crash at her place afterwards?”

  “We’re not going to drive back that night?” I asked innocently. To be honest, I hadn’t fathomed that our little road trip would turn into an overnighter. It would be a late night for sure, but I had assumed that we would be sleeping in our own beds come the wee morning hours.

  “I wasn’t planning on it. Especially with it being in February, who knows what the weather will be like? Think about it, we’ll have been at work all day. A trip to Indy and back would be a little ambitious for anyone in the same day.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll mention it to her the next time we talk. Just a word of warning, though, her place is pretty small. Hope you’re okay with bunking on a couch.”

  “That’ll do. I’d much rather stay there than some roach motel.”

  I was positive Gracie would be cool with it. So cool with it that I almost didn’t need to ask her; I could just plan on it. I could almost hear her gushing in my head to go for it. Knowing her, she would conveniently find something to do that evening that involved her not coming home.

  The thought of being alone in a tiny apartment with him all night both scared and intrigued me all at once.

  With thoughts of what might happen that night swirling in my head, I totally ignored the conversation Blake was having at the front door with our mystery guest. She spoke in a low tone, and I couldn’t hear the other party at all. Finally she turned from the door without closing it behind her, a gust of cold air passing through as she returned to the living room, still eating her cake.

  “Lauren, you have a visitor.”

  Her announcement stopped me cold in my tracks. I stared up at her, my eyebrow raised, but she didn’t give me any hints other than her utterly amused expression. With my back to the door, I was totally unprepared for what I was about to get myself into. Blake and Matthew, who was sitting on the portion of the sectional parallel to the front door, exchanged a glance that chilled me to the bone.

  I didn’t have to wait for long to find out my visitor’s identity.

  “Lauren,” Eric said, walking into the foyer and closing the front door behind him, “we need to talk.”

  I set down my plate on the coffee table, my hands trembling. I was certain I looked like a child caught with my hand stuck in the cookie jar. Eric had been standing mere feet away from me while I had discussed an overnight road trip with the same man he accused me of cheating on him with. Although I was relatively certain he wouldn’t have been able to hear any of it, the guilt rose to the surface reflexively.

  “Eric,” I said as I stood up, “what are you doing here?”

  He laughed easily. “I’m here to see you, of course.”

  “I’m sorry,” I apologized unnecessarily, “I didn’t realize you were coming.”

  “I wanted to surprise you,” he stated, clearly in his element, “and it looks as though I was completely successful. You remember when you texted me your address? I still had it in my phone, and by the magic of GPS, here I am. The place was pretty easy to find, considering I’ve never been here before.”

  By now, I stood in front of him. We were a few feet apart, but neither one of us made a move to lessen the distance.

  “Do you want to go somewhere and talk in private?” I gestured up to the loft, hoping that we could do whatever this was behind closed doors.

  With one word he crushed that wish completely.

  “No,” he shook his head, finally taking my hands in both of his so that he could turn me toward our captive audience, “the last time all of us were together, I’ll admit I behaved very rudely. I wanted to apologize and promise to everyone that I won’t do that again. And nothing that I have to say to you today needs to be kept private. I didn’t come here to argue, Lauren, I came here to tell you how much I love you.”

  I couldn’t help myself. I gasped. It figured that the fir
st time those words would form upon his lips during our relationship that I’d be standing in front of my roommate and her brother. My eyes scanned the room for their reaction. Blake stood frozen in mid-bite; Matthew’s expression was unreadable.

  “I know the past couple of months have been hard on us as a couple. And I’m to blame for the majority of that. I wanted too much, expected you to drop everything for me. And it wasn’t fair. I know how much this job means to you, Lauren. In a way, we are so much alike.

  “I promised you before you left Indianapolis that I would find a way to make this work. I meant that with all of my heart. It just took me longer than I thought it would to come up with a plan. I was close when I came up with your Christmas gift, but it still wasn’t quite right. Like I expected you to, you held your ground and wouldn’t back down.

  “So I went back to square one and regrouped. The basic idea was good. You’re completely right; we need to make compromises. I needed to take baby steps to get there, but I now have the exact solution to our problems. Everything didn’t come together as quickly as I planned, but it’s all here now.

  “So if you’ll allow me to, I am asking you for a do-over of my Christmas gift to you.”

  He paused and I nodded, feeling as though I should answer him somehow, even if I wasn’t sure what was happening.

  “Lauren, I’ve decided to put the condo up for sale. I want to show you how much I am committed to you, to us. So there will be no backup plan, no easy out, just me and you beginning our lives together in earnest. Like adults do. We’ll take our time and find our dream house and both our names will be on the mortgage. We’ll both come home to each other every night that I’m not traveling, like a real couple does.

  “But that’s not all,” he said softly, dropping to his knee, “Lauren Marie Jefferies, I love you. For some inexplicable reason, you have returned the favor. It took this distance between us to realize that I want you by my side for the rest of my life. So I’m asking you right here, right now, to be my wife. Would you do me the honor of marrying me?”

  Time stood still as he pulled a black velvet box from his pocket and propped it open to reveal one of the largest diamond rings that I had ever seen in person. Eric looked up at me expectantly, his green eyes shining with emotions I had never before seen him express. I opened my mouth, once, twice, but words wouldn’t come. Trapped in the surreal moment, unsure if I was dreaming, I spun around to where Blake and Matthew stood. Blake was just as eagerly awaiting my answer as Eric, but Matthew grabbed her by the elbow and pulled her into the kitchen to allow us our privacy.

  Before he disappeared into the other room, Matthew turned and looked back at me. The expression on his face wrenched at my stomach and burned into my memory. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear that someone had ripped his heart out of his chest and stomped upon it. Sheer pain was what I saw reflected in those eyes. I wanted to break free of Eric’s hold and run after him, but my feet were cemented to the carpet.

  Instead, I let out a whimper as I closed my eyes, tears spilling over my cheeks. Eric, of course, interpreted my outburst as a positive response.

  “Lauren,” he said softly, “that’s not exactly an answer. This is the part where you tell me yes. We can cry about it after you accept.”

  “Oh, Eric,” I said eventually, “I am in complete shock right now. My head is spinning; I can’t formulate a coherent thought.”

  “That’s a good thing, right?” he asked hopefully. He straightened up, rising to his full six foot plus frame and escorted me over to the couch.

  I dropped onto the cushion like a rag doll, leaning into him as he wrapped his arm about my shoulders for support. My body shook; no matter what I did I couldn’t stop the trembling. I let out a couple of ragged breaths, trying to regain enough composure to come up with something to offer him.

  “I don’t know,” I admitted breathily, “I can’t think right now. I just need some time.”

  He sighed, obviously disappointed but not angry like I expected. “I had a feeling you might say that. You have the most beautiful, analytical mind and I sprung this on you out of left field. So as much as I wanted to leave here tonight with an answer, I will give you some time to digest this. Why don’t you come to visit me on Saturday? That will give you a couple of days to think it over, to realize that I am serious. You can give me your answer then. Of course, if you make up your mind sooner, I’d appreciate it if you’d let me know.”

  He placed the velvet box on the coffee table beside my cake plate. Untangling my limbs from his support, he propped me against the back of the couch, holding me in place for a moment before letting me go completely.

  “I guess I should head back then,” he said softly as he stood.

  I stared up at him, nodding slightly.

  Impulsively, he bent down towards me to place a kiss on the tip of my nose. “You know I love you more than anything,” he whispered.

  I wanted to tell him the truth - that I hadn’t known that up until a few minutes ago, but I refrained. My thoughts were so jumbled in my head that by the time I realized I should say something, anything at all, he had left me all alone. The door latched quietly behind him before I realized I hadn’t returned the sentiment.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  I pressed the doorbell with a trembling index finger. For a split second, I considered running for the safety of my car and getting the hell out of there. Unfortunately, I doubted that I could make a clean escape before he came to the door. He would recognize my car, would know that it wasn’t some prank done by neighborhood kids. Besides, with his house being so far back from the road and not visible through the trees lining the neck of the driveway, no one would come here on accident.

  So I waited on his front porch instead. As the seconds ticked by I worked on bolstering the fleeting resolve that had driven me here in the first place. My hands clutched his birthday gifts, a reminder that I had intended to end up here after work today. I had scooped up the camera and the Red Wings tickets that he had left behind the night before as I headed out the door this morning. Blake had said he would pick them up sooner or later, but for me they were an invitation to attempt to clear the air between us.

  Last night after Eric had left, I had remained in my catatonic state for who knew how long before Blake had emerged from the kitchen alone. It had only added to my turmoil when I realized that Matthew had ducked out of his own party without saying goodbye. Blake had tried to shrug things off, either for my benefit or for his, but I knew there was a lot that she was leaving out when she indicated it was no big deal. The look we had exchanged as he retreated suggested that he hadn’t just left to give Eric and me our privacy.

  The subject had changed quickly to that of the diamond ring that sat before me on the table. Blake had picked it up, even taking it out of the box and sliding it on her own finger, albeit her pinky. Of course he had had it sized to fit me; why wouldn’t he? For the life of me though I couldn’t slide it on my left ring finger like Blake had suggested, just to make sure. It was like I was afraid that by putting the ring on, it would somehow trap me into making a decision that I clearly wasn’t ready to commit to yet. I couldn’t be swayed by the beauty of an inanimate object, couldn’t let it make the choice for me. Call me crazy, but once that ring was on, I doubted it would ever come back off. Like something out of a science fiction movie, the band would devour my finger and never let go.

  A cold gust of wind reminded me that I had been standing there for quite some time, and my heart dropped into my stomach. I was almost one hundred percent positive that he was home. Even though the Mustang and Camry were not parked in the driveway, I knew he kept them in the garage. There were more than enough lights on inside to mean someone was in there. Which meant he wasn’t answering by choice.

  I imagined him peeking out the window, somewhere unnoticed by me. He would have seen my car parked in his drive, then decided that he wanted nothing to do with me. I pictured him pressed against a wall
inside, praying for me to just leave him alone. Pretending not to be there, silently begging me to give up and turn away.

  I swallowed down the lump in my throat and prepared to do just that, but my feet wouldn’t move. I stood frozen in place, still as a statue. Eventually he would find me out here, frostbitten and stiff as a board and choose not to ignore me. We needed to talk. Besides, I had his things and I had come to return them. I wasn’t about to leave them on his doorstep and hope they didn’t blow away.

  Emboldened, I reached up again to ring the doorbell just as I heard motion on the other side of the door. It sounded like the deadbolt was being turned. I dropped my arm and stepped back slightly.

  Sure enough the door opened. As soon as Matthew made his appearance, I realized that his delay in answering the door had nothing to do with me. He was wearing only a pair of jeans, hastily thrown on by the looks of it, zipped up but unbuttoned. His feet were bare. Also bare was his chest, though a t-shirt was flung over his shoulder. His hair was wet, and he practically radiated that easy confidence of a model in a men’s bodywash commercial.

  For a moment, we just stared at each other. Of course I had seen him shirtless before, many times in fact. Yet this was so unexpected that I couldn’t help taking in the scene, completely awestruck.

  “Hey,” he said finally. I noticed immediately the lack of the “gorgeous” that typically followed, and may or may not have outwardly winced.

  “If it’s a bad time I can come back later. Or not at all. I just brought your stuff.” The words came out in a rush of stupidity and I thrust his items in his general direction.

  “No, no, it’s not a bad time. Come on in.” I detected a trace of amusement in his tone as he pushed the door open wide enough to allow me through. As I entered, I passed dangerously close to him, breathing in the heady scent of soap and warmth.

  He trailed me into the living room, pausing briefly to slip his shirt over his head. Ever the gentleman, he offered me something to drink as I clumsily put the camera and the envelope with the tickets down on the table. I politely declined and seated myself on the couch. He shrugged then took a seat on the same couch, though as far away from me as possible. Yet again I might have made a face that hinted at my discontent with the awkwardness, but I really wasn’t sure.