Keep Calm and Carry a Big Drink

by Kim Gruenenfelder

  “No,” he says immediately. Then he’s quiet for a while. “I’ll admit, this whole ‘combining of our lives’ thing has been way more stressful than I thought it would be. Seema has so many ideas of what she wants, and sometimes I feel like I’m getting a little lost among the details. But it’s fine. I can ride the wave for a few more weeks.”

  “Have you told her how you’re feeling?”

  He lets out a mild chuckle. “Yeah, the groom’s feelings? Not something a bride really wants to hear about right before her wedding. Trust me. We’ve been mildly fighting since I put the ring on her finger. Not fighting, that’s the wrong word. It’s just—you know—she knew what cake she wanted, she knew what she wanted the invitations to look like, she knows exactly how her mehndi ceremony is going to go…”

  “So you’re just fighting about wedding stuff,” I say, relieved.

  “Well, it’s a little more than that. It’s little things. Like, she knows I hate going to Burbank because I don’t trust the cops there, but she books our tickets through the Burbank airport anyway just to save money. Or I really didn’t want the sheets that we registered for. But we looked at so many sheets. I mean, seriously, we looked at literally a wall of sheets at the store where we registered. And then she picked, like, the third ones from the top, which were beige, and I wasn’t crazy about them. But she seemed to care so much about those sheets, and I wasn’t willing to die on the hill over linens, so we picked the ones she wanted.”

  It doesn’t feel as if we’re just talking about sheets, so I say nothing and wait for him to continue. Scott takes a moment to have a sip of his coffee, then gets into the deeper issues. “And I want kids. Soon even. Like, maybe start trying in a year, give us a little time to be Mr. and Mrs. James before jumping into ‘Mommy’ and “Daddy.’ But she wants to start trying the minute we get married. And … I guess that’s fine. But it’s like, wow, okay, I guess we’re jumping right in. And then we had this huge fight about my loft.…”

  “I heard.”

  “And I’m sure I came off as an asshole.”

  “No,” I quickly assure him.

  “Yeah, I’m sure I did. Because Seema has no problem telling people what’s bothering her. But I don’t like doing that—I like to be a little more chill, a little more private. But then people hear about our fight from her point of view, so she looks good, and I’m the thoughtless jerk. But just because I don’t get riled up about every little thing doesn’t mean I don’t have opinions. And just because I’m not telling all of my friends we had a fight doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

  “No one thinks you’re a jerk. You’re one of the nicest guys I’ve ever met.”

  Scott clearly doesn’t believe me, but he gives me a sincere “Thanks.” He takes another sip of his coffee, deep in thought. “You know what happened when I tried to stand up for myself about my work space? Instead of discussing it like rational adults, she accused me of keeping it because I was planning on having an affair. Then she got it into her head that if I wanted to keep the place, this was my safety hatch and represented a subconscious need to stay a bachelor, so maybe she should do me a favor and not marry me.”

  I cringe and shake my head slowly. “Sorry. Believe me, she does not mean that. You’re her dream guy. You’re the man she pined over and bored all of us about every day for a year before you finally kissed her. ‘What’s he mean by this text?’ ‘He kissed me hello—do you think that means anything?’ ‘If I wore a mask to the Halloween party, do you think I could kiss him without him knowing it was me?’”

  Scott rolls his eyes self-consciously at my compliment, but grins. “Really? A mask?”

  “I never told you that—” I warn him.

  Scott shakes his head, clearly amused. “Did she really think that would work?”

  I shrug. “Desperate times, desperate measures.”

  Scott, still smiling, nods. “Wow.” He blurts out in amusement, “She is such a geek!”

  “Such a geek,” I concur.

  Scott continues to smile, looking up at the ceiling a moment. “I love that. Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

  “Anytime you need stories for how ridiculously in love your wife is, come to me. So are you guys okay?”

  “We’re good.”

  “Excellent.” I stand up. “Okay, this coffee isn’t working for me. I have got to take a nap if we’re seeing Nic and Jason tonight.”

  Scott smiles and wags his eyebrows up and down. “Did ya get any?”

  “Shut up! No.”

  “But you’re gonna get some?”

  I might have taken a little too long to respond to his question. I shrug. “I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

  “Relationships always are, darlin’.”

  “If things are bothering you, talk to her.”

  Scott keeps smiling as he waves his hand back and forth in a mezzo mezzo fashion. “Maybe after the wedding, once things have calmed down. In the meantime, do you think maybe I could do some of my work in the living room if I get inspired? Sort of a trial run?”

  “Go for it.” Then I add awkwardly, “You know, you’ll have my bedroom to work in soon. I promise I’ll be gone by the time you guys get back from safari.”

  “Don’t rush. We have time.”

  “Thanks. But I don’t want to be in the middle of that loft fight.”

  “It’s not a fight. It’s just…” Scott shrugs. “Life. It’s fine.”

  “Okay.” I take my coffee to the sink, rinse it out, then putter out of the kitchen. I stop and turn around. “By the way, don’t be mad at me.”

  His eyes widen as if to ask, About what?

  I’m embarrassed to have to tell him. “I bought you guys those sheets.”

  Scott nods and smiles. “Well, when you get married, I’ll return the favor and buy you an Xbox.”

  A minute later, I am back in my room and climbing under my covers. As I drift off to sleep, my thoughts soon drift away from premarital drama, and over to predating temptation.

  NINE

  After Seema and Jay spent the afternoon together, they and Scott and I meet up with Jason and Nic at a local Thai restaurant to enjoy one last relaxed meal before all the wedding insanity begins.

  As we stuff ourselves with piles of pad see ew, garlic-and-pepper shrimp, sweet-and-sour pork, and eight other specialties of the house, Nic and Jason compete with Seema and Scott in a homemade version of The Newlywed Game. Fortunately, since Jay and I have been dating for all of about six hours, we get to be the moderators.

  “‘Strangest gift you’ve received so far?’” Jay reads from a light blue index card while I use a large serving fork to transfer a piece of deep-fried quail in curry sauce from a large plate in the center of our table onto my smaller plate.

  Scott and Seema look at each other knowingly. “Your call. What do you think?” Scott asks her. “That ugly pendant, or the hideous blood thing?”

  “Wait, there’s a hideous blood thing?” I ask, intrigued.

  Seema closes her eyes and shakes her head slowly. “The problem with being friends with artists. One of them gave us two tiny crystal tubes, two syringes, and two needles for a gift. We’re supposed to take each other’s blood, put it in vials, and wear it around our necks.”

  “Ugh,” Jason groans. “Shades of Angelina Jolie. Shudder. Shudder…”

  “Cringe, cringe…,” Nic finishes his thought. Then she asks Seema, “So what is the pendant?”

  “No, wait,” Jay says quickly, pointing at Seema. “Let me guess. The pendant is gold, hideous, and from Uncle Ravi.”

  Seema’s eyes light up as she shakes her head, “How did you know? The latest hideous pendant also has an uncut emerald in it that looks like—and I swear to God I’m not exaggerating—it looks like it’s staring at me. I have already put it in my safety-deposit box to collect dust as I will never wear it and can’t sell it.”

  As Seema describes the pendant to Nic, I lean in to Jay to whisper/ask, “If she will never
wear it, why can’t she sell it?”

  Off my look, Jay explains, “Traditional Indians give jewels, cash, or gold. You know how some women have expensive china and crystal they never use packed up in a hutch? Seema has the ugliest gold jewelry you’ve ever seen securely tucked away in a safety-deposit box in downtown LA.”

  “True dat,” Seema exclaims, wonderfully out of character for her.

  Nic shakes her head and tells Seema, “See, this is why you register. For us, it was an ugly green-and-bright-yellow ceramic monstrosity that we have to take out and display every time Jason’s aunt Josephine comes into town.”

  “I thought you liked that thing!” Jason exclaims to her.

  “Tell me what it is, and I’ll tell you I like it.”

  “It’s a…” Jason struggles for an answer, then gives up, shrugging. “Giant asterisk maybe?”

  “Okay, next Newlywed Game question,” I say, flipping over a pink index card and reading, “‘First date you ever had?’”

  Seema confidently answers, “Dinner at Café Beaujolais,” while Scott simultaneously says, “Our first coffee at the museum.”

  Seema turns to him. “You geek. That was not a date.”

  “Just because you didn’t know it was a date doesn’t mean it wasn’t.”

  She shakes her head, “That might be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said.”

  Scott smiles, then corrects her, “Oh, no. The sweetest thing I ever said was ‘Met a goddess. Became a family.’”

  This is followed by three Awwws and one “Aw, crap, I can’t top that,” from Jason.

  “Your turn.” I ask Nic and Jason, “First date?”

  Nic goes with “A very romantic dinner at Mélisse.” At the same time Jason answers, “A very strange funeral.”

  Jay’s eyes widen. “You took Nic to a funeral for your first date?”

  Jason bites his tongue ever so slightly in amusement as he nods his head. “No. She took me. It was a cat’s funeral. Mr. Whiskers.”

  “That is so weird,” Jay says, turning to Nic. “For some reason, I thought you were allergic to cats.”

  “Oh, I am. Deathly. But in all fairness, it was my cat’s funeral.”

  Jason and Nic explain to Jay that they first met at a party. Jason spent the next week calling her and asking her out. She kept saying no, and as the week went on, her reasons became more and more ridiculous. Finally, she declined dinner to go to her “cat’s funeral.” She figured she’d look like a crazy cat woman and finally scare Jason away. No such luck. He sent flowers, then attended the service. “Or tried to, anyway,” Nic finishes the story. “Since there was no cat, services were tricky.”

  “Wow,” Jay says, and turns to me. “What’s the weirdest thing you’ve ever done to get a date?”

  I wave my hand in protest. “I plead the Fifth.” Then I look down at the next index card. “Men, what is the one thing you would say most freaked out your wife while planning the wedding?”

  Scott flashes Seema a big ole grin. “Oh, wife! I like the sound of that.”

  “I got this one,” Jason says. “The baby-carriage cake charm Nic pulled at her wedding shower.”

  Scott points to Jason. “Cake charm. You nailed it. For Seema, it was the snake she got yesterday. Totally freaked her out.”

  “I was not freaked out,” Seema corrects. “I was annoyed. Now, Auntie Hema: she was freaked-out.”

  “You got a snake at your bridal shower?” Jay asks Seema. “Isn’t that bad luck or something?”

  “Only if you kill it,” Seema insists. “Anyway, I didn’t get a snake, I got a snake charm.”

  “Whoa, hope that doesn’t mean you’re marrying a snake charmer,” Jay jokes.

  Nic turns to me. “How come neither of us thought to make that joke?”

  I shrug.

  Jay reads the next index card. “Okay, next question: ‘Boxers or briefs?’”

  “For which one of us?” Seema and Scott joke in unison.

  TEN

  After dinner, I drove Jay home in my car, and Scott dragged Seema back to his place downtown. (I owe you one, Scott!)

  The moment we are in the car and out of sight from everyone, the drive becomes deliciously flirtatious. I had forgotten what it was like to still be in the chase part of the relationship (if I could call it a relationship). You know, the part where you’re not sure if you’re going to have sex or not. The part where you’re both still tentative, and each kiss sets off a spark to your lips or your neck or your … well, any part he has not yet kissed.

  My last boyfriend was a one-night stand that lasted about three months. I had picked him up at a bar (very retro of me, in this era of online dating), during my “slut on the rebound” phase. He was nice, and we certainly went on dates. But I knew I’d “get some” at the end of each date because I “got some” the first night. So the seduction part was off the table. Before him, I was with a boyfriend for over six years. That seduction had been shoved off the table, into the trash, and out to the curb for pickup.

  So it had been a long time since I had had a man eye me as completely and seductively as Jay was doing right now.

  I turn to Jay, who is lounging back against the passenger seat, making a show of ogling me lasciviously. “So, where to?”

  Jay smiles as he puts his hand on my knee. “Wherever you want.”

  “There’s a place called Yamashiro up in the hills that has the most amazing view of the city.”

  Jay moves his index finger to push my skirt up ever so slightly. “I like the view from here.”

  I make a show of rolling my eyes and easing my skirt back down. “Don’t distract me. This is Hollywood. There are cops everywhere.”

  Jay slowly puts up both palms in surrender and leans back in his seat. But he never takes his eyes off me.

  I feel uncomfortable as hell. But in a good way. “Or we could go dancing. There’s an amazing jazz place downtown not far from where your sister is getting married.” I turn to him and smile nervously. “I know you’re an amazing dancer.”

  Jay puckers his lips, “As much as I love the idea of an activity where you have to do whatever I want, and in heels, I have some other thoughts about how we could accomplish that.”

  I turn to him in mock irritation. “Does everything that comes out of your mouth have to be a double entendre?”

  He smirks at me. “It doesn’t have to be, it just sort of works out that way. So, you do know we’re gonna have sex tonight, right?”

  My jaw drops and Jay laughs. “Figured I’d go with a single entendre.”

  I shake my head. “We are not having sex tonight.”

  “How can you know that for sure?” he asks me lightly.

  I slow down and stop for a red light. “I can know that for sure because I love kissing you, and I’m having a lot of fun with you. But you leave in a few days, and I’m not that kind of girl.”

  Jay nods his head to concede my point. “Fair enough.” Then he leans in and kisses me.

  We make out until the light turns green and the SUV behind me starts honking angrily.

  I begin driving again. “I have an idea. There’s this great wine bar in Los Feliz…”

  “Do you have wine at home?”

  “Pretty sure you’re leading the witness here.”

  “Plus you have that view I like at home,” Jay continues.

  “View? We live in the flats. There’s no…”

  “I meant you.”

  I nod. “Oh. Got it.”

  “And we could turn on music, if you really want to dance.”

  I smile bashfully and make a left onto the street that goes back toward my place.

  ELEVEN

  Jay and I get home about ten minutes later, and he holds my hand as we walk up the flagstone pathway to the door. “Do you think Seema has any of those formal crystal wineglasses she registered for?” he asks, as though an idea has suddenly occurred to him.

  “She’s has eight of them so far. Why?”


  He looks up and toward his left as he cocks his head, an idea percolating. “I think you should go to your kitchen, find whatever bottle will make you happy, and borrow a few of the glasses. I’m going to get my iPad and do a quick playlist for us to dance to.”

  “Um … okay,” I say, wondering what he’s up to.

  We go inside, and I head to the kitchen while he rifles through his suitcase.

  I quickly text Seema:

  Can we use your new wineglasses?

  I then walk over to the wine refrigerator and debate which bottle to pull. “You’re not going to play striptease songs or anything, are you?” I yell to the other room.

  “Good Lord, what is wrong with you, woman?” he yells back from the living room.

  I decide to splurge and pull out a bottle of Zinnia Pinot Noir Reserve that I have been saving. “It’s just that I remember back in college, you once took your shirt off to Aerosmith on the radio, and you gyrated your hips in a way that—”

  “Christ, was I ever so young and stupid that I thought that would work as a form of seduction?” Jay asks as he appears in the doorway. “Where would I find matches?”

  I pull a matchbook from a pile by Seema’s mini-shrine and throw them to him.

  He catches them in one hand and smiles. “Thanks.” Then he disappears.

  My iPhone beeps. I check the text:

  Of course on the glasses.

  Don’t sleep with him.

  With a little luck neither of us will sleep, I think to myself.

  I notice the living-room light go out as I grab two glasses from our cupboard. They’re by Waterford, and the pattern is this crisscross of lines that make the glasses look like a bowl of diamonds ready to surround our wine.

  I carefully place the glasses next to the wine and twist the corkscrew into the cork just as I hear the soulful guitar playing of Eric Clapton’s “Wonderful Tonight” waft into the kitchen.

  Wow. He remembered.…

  I smile, and my breath catches a little.

  “What do you think of the selection?” I hear Jay ask from the living room.

  “I think that’ll work!” I yell back jokingly. I pull down the corkscrew arms and pull out the cork. Then I look up and ever so quietly and shyly whisper-sing along with Clapton.