“Oh dear lord. See you in ten? Ten minutes? How did she find your hotel?”
“She’s very good with the Internet,” said Nick.
“Alright, it’s okay,” I said, trying not to panic. “You just need to get back to the hotel to meet her, and I’ll just go stay far away at Kendra's house." I started gathering up my purse and getting money out to pay the bill.
“The thing is, Tess, I think she may be coming here here. To this restaurant.”
I stopped counting out the tip and glared at him. “And how on Earth would she know that you’re here?”
“Because I kind of told the front desk clerk,” he said.
“The front desk clerk? The one with the boob job?”
“Are there other front desk clerks?” he asked. “I never noticed. She asked me where I would be later tonight.”
“So let me get this straight, you were flirting with the front desk clerk before you came here to cheat on your wife with the girl you claim to be in love with? Christ, Nick, what the hell is wrong with you?”
Before he had a chance to explain to me what the hell was wrong with him, two things happened. First, burping pickle guy let out the loudest belch I’ve heard in years, and second, the door to Sweet Dreams flew open to reveal Megan Trask, fresh off of her cross-country flight. A flash of lightning and an axe in her hand would have completed the scene, but she had apparently brought nothing, not even a carry-on bag. This was a woman on a mission. My life flashed before my eyes as she came charging through the restaurant to our table.
“There you are you lying sack of crap!” she shouted. “Did you think I was going to just let my husband disappear for a week, no questions asked, and then wheel out the fucking welcome wagon when you finally decided to come home?"
"Megan, baby - " interrupted Nick.
"Don't you dare 'baby' me! I always knew something was going on with you two, I knew it! All those times you told me you were just friends, and that you thought Tessa was ugly, I never really bought it!"
Nick told his wife that he thought I was ugly? Hey!
"It's true, Meg! She's not even close to my type - "
"Save it!" shouted Megan. "You're going back to the hotel, and you're packing up your shit, and then you're coming home with me. We'll get a God damned divorce if that's what you want, but you're sure as hell not staying out here."
I shrunk down a few inches in my seat out of sheer terror as I knew she would be unleashing the wrath on me at any moment.
“Megan, baby,” said Nick, standing up and putting his hand on Megan’s shoulder, “just listen to me, please! There’s nothing going on between Tessa and I. I just needed to talk with her about some things! About us.”
“Ever hear of a phone?” asked Megan. She turned and looked around at the dimly lit restaurant, motioning to the candles on the tables. “This is where you go to talk? And at, what the hell time is it, one o’clock in the morning? Do you think I’m stupid?”
“Tessa asked me to meet her here!” said Nick. “She thinks that she’s in love with me! I only showed up to try and let her down easy. I was just about to tell her that I needed to go home to you and that she needs to move on with her life, isn’t that right, Tessa?”
I couldn’t believe my ears. The bastard was throwing me under the bus! Did he honestly think I would cover for him like that?
“No, Nick,” I sad, really emphasizing his name. “That’s not right. Why would you do this to me?” I stood up and turned to Megan. “Megan, listen to me. I have a boyfriend. Well, I almost had a boyfriend, until Nick showed up and ruined everything.”
“Hey!” said Nick.
“Shut up,” said Megan and I in unison.
I turned to Nick and looked him dead in the eyes.
“I was in love with you for years, Nick, years. Not a couple of weeks, not since I sent those texts and emails, but years. Did you know that?” He shook his head and I turned to Megan who gave me a look that will probably follow me to my grave. “This started way before he ever met you,” I assured her. I turned back to Nick with shaking hands.
“Knowing that I would see you, that was the only thing that got me into work every morning. Even when you went through that phase of only dating girls from the modeling agency, I sat and I listened to you talk about your dates, and I let you complain to me when they didn’t work out. Do you know why I did that? Because it didn’t matter to me what you were saying, all that mattered was that you were talking to me. I got to hear your voice and your jokes and at least for that moment, sitting in the middle of our stupid office, I was the girl in your life."
“Tessa, I’m -” interrupted Nick.
“No, let me finish,” I said. “I know that sounds kind of creepy and stalker-ish, but I'm sorry. That's just the way it was. All those times that I comforted you while you dated idiot after idiot, and I kept telling you that the right girl was out there. I told you that when you least expected it she would show up. But you never once considered that girl might be me.” I looked down at my cheesecake, and then at Megan, whose face had softened slightly. “And then one day he came back from a cruise, and he was married to you. All my hope was gone. I had to accept the fact that I was destined to be nothing but Nick’s friend for the rest of my life, and it was devastating. I hated you, Megan, for no good reason. I took all my anger at Nick and I placed it squarely on you, just like every other bitter, jealous, woman does, and I’m so sorry about that. I want to be better than that.”
Tears formed in my eyes, but I kept on talking. “At the time I would have given anything for your marriage to end and for me to get that glimmer of hope back. That hope that someday Nick would come to his senses and we would end up together."
“Tess, I didn’t -” interrupted Nick again.
“I’m not done,” I said. “And then I came out here, and I met this really great guy who I never told you about. I should have, because he's everything you never could be, and by not telling you about him I may have royally messed it all up.”
“Then why would you send me those texts?” asked Nick, finally getting a few words in. He spoke almost in a whisper, as if he didn’t want Megan to hear.
“Because when you told me that you and Megan were having problems, a little piece of that old stalker was still hanging on. I just couldn’t let her go." I shrugged. "It’s like when you’re ten years old and your parents finally buy you that toy you wanted when you were eight - you know, you play with it for a while, but then you realize that it’s not what you really want anymore.”
The entire restaurant, including wait staff, seemed to hold their breath as I finished my speech.
“I’m not in love with your husband anymore,” I said to Megan. The words sounded so liberating to my own ears, I wanted to shout them to the entire city. “It was just kind of nice that finally, after all these years, Nick thought that he was in love with me.” I gave Nick a weak smile and shrugged. Then I sat back down. “That’s all.”
Burping pickle guy, along with everybody else who had been listening intently, let out a collective murmur of agreement, and then, just like in a movie, slowly began to clap.
The sound of applause seemed to bring Megan out of the daze from which she had been listening to me, wide eyed and unblinking. She jerked her head up and down in what I hoped was a sign of forgiveness, or at least a sign that she wasn’t going to rip my heart out of my throat.
“This is unreal,” she murmured under her breath. She looked up at her husband, and, having the final word in the matter, told him that it was time to go.
I half expected her to drag Nick out by his earlobe, but he willingly trailed after her, hands jammed into his pockets. Before they exited the restaurant he turned and mouthed something to me. Maybe it was "sorry," or "help me," but in the dim light I couldn't be sure.
People were still clapping, whistling even, as if I has just put on the performance of a lifetime. I knew somewhere inside me was relief and pride at what I had just done, but at the moment neit
her of those things were able to break through the utterly depressing thought of being left alone at the table with two plates of half eaten cheesecake and cold coffee.
Burping pickle guy muttered something to me about “what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,” and I told him that if he didn’t want a certain part of his anatomy to remain in Vegas he would mind his own business. I gathered up my stuff as quickly as I could, nodded appreciation to my fans, and headed out to the street to look for a taxi. I saw Nick and Megan standing at the curb to the right, so I headed left as fast as my legs would take me.
***
Kendra’s house was dark when the taxi dropped me off. I pulled the spare key out from under a potted palm on the back porch and let myself in, making sure to turn off the security system. The last thing I needed was to make another scene tonight. The guest bedroom was on the first floor and I stumbled into it, not bothering to turn on the lights. Clothes and all I fell into bed and pulled the covers up over my head. I took my cell phone out of my pocket, the numbers glowing green under the covers.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Kara,” I said. “I think he’s on his way.”
***
Someone was crawling into bed with me.
“Mmmmmmpphh,” they mumbled into the pillow.
“Kendra? Is that you?” I whispered. I couldn’t get my eyes to focus in the dark. I hoped to hell it was her, otherwise I was in trouble.
“Mmmmmhmmmmmph,” they said.
“How did you know I was in here? What time is it?” I sat up on my elbow. At least the mumbling seemed to be female.
“You dropped your purse in the hall. It’s like six a.m. I think I’m gonna be sick.”
“Um, okay, can you give me a little warning first?”
“Mmmmmmph.”
I laid back down and stared into the darkness. The curtains in the guest room were so thick that an atomic bomb could go off in the backyard and you wouldn’t see a thing. A vampire could watch The Price is Right at eleven o’clock in the morning in this room and be totally fine. Six a.m. The night before started to slowly come back to me. I had left Kendra with Rob and Jasper and proceeded to either ruin or fix Nick's marriage, I wasn’t quite sure. Now it was six a.m. and Kendra was just getting home. Oh no! I sat back up and shook her.
“Ken! Wake up!” I said. “Please tell me you didn’t just now get back from showing Jasper a good time?”
“I said I felt sick, didn’t I?” she mumbled.
“Oh God. That's so gross.”
“At least we’ll be getting our zoning approved.”
“You realize he’s only one of seven Board members don’t you? He still has to convince the other six. Or did you sleep with all of them?” I asked.
“I’m such a slut.”
“No, you’re not. You were drunk. I never should have left you there.” Another repulsive thought entered my mind. I was almost afraid to ask, and maybe if there was some light in the room so I could see her face, I wouldn’t have. “You didn’t do anything with Rob did you?” I scrunched my face up in the dark, expecting the worst.
“Ugh, no way. Once the little pervert saw that I was all over Jasper he crawled back into whatever hole he comes out of in the morning and I never saw him again.”
“Good,” I said. “Because if you sleep with Rob Dorfman it’s kind of the law that I have to murder you. Sleeping with Jasper just earns you a mild beating.” I punched her under the covers.
“Please just murder me anyway. This is bad Tess, this is really bad. I think I might have a serious problem.”
“So sleeping with Jasper was rock bottom for you?” I asked.
“Sleeping with Jasper would be rock bottom for a prostitute,” said Kendra.
“What about sleeping with Rob?”
“That would be rock bottom for the pink algae that grows out of your shower head.”
“You have pink algae growing out of your shower head? I thought someone with your money would have a maid.”
Kendra ignored me. “God I need a shower. Jasper fucking Quick! How thick were my beer goggles?”
“You had a pretty good set going,” I said. “So, uh, did he live up to his name?”
“I couldn’t even tell you, honestly. And don’t try to make me remember, I’d rather not.”
“If you think about it he’s really not that much worse than Phil Baxter, and you find Phil Baxter sexy. You told me so.”
“Do not put him in the same category as Phil. You know how I feel about him.” The sheets rustled as she rolled over onto her back, or maybe her stomach. I still couldn’t see in the dark.
“I’m just teasing,” I said. “But seriously, you agree with me now that we need to cool it with the drinking?”
“I...am...never...drinking...again,” said Kendra.
“Give me your hand." I waved mine around in the dark. I found it and she limply shook with me on the deal. “Tomorrow morning, which I guess is right now, we’re going to start over as respectable people. We’ll give your house a good cleaning, starting with those shower heads, and then we’ll go to the spa and get one of those cleansing treatments, you know, like Tom Cruise gets.”
“What the heck are you talking about?” Kendra mumbled into her pillow.
I ignored her. I knew exactly what I was talking about. A fresh start. No more hangovers, no more pining away for Nick Trask. And at the center of my fresh start was Chris - hopefully still waiting for me to make up my mind. Megan, the woman I had wasted so much energy on hating, had done me a huge favor by showing up and taking Nick away. What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger, they say. And Megan, to my surprise, hadn’t killed me.
- 23 -
He’s not coming.
I glanced down at my watch and checked my cell phone for the billionth time. Sunday was a busy day at the bumper boats and with every passing minute I prayed that nobody else would sit down on our bench. That was his spot and it needed to be empty when he showed up. He was now ten minutes late and hadn’t even replied to my text message asking him to meet me here, so I was starting to get nervous.
Five more minutes passed. Since the time we had last shared this bench somebody had broken one of the legs so that it wobbled dangerously under my weight, but I didn’t care. Until somebody pried it out of the cement and threw it into the bumper boats I was not going to budge, and even then Chris might find me smiling and waving as I slowly sank to the bottom of the pool. That is if he showed up at all. Which he would. He just had to.
It was 11:30 a.m. when I finally crawled out of bed that morning, Kendra’s guest room still a pit of darkness. Kendra was still asleep, snoring lightly, and I tip-toed out of the room allowing her a few more minutes of peace before awakening to a lifetime of the fact that she had slept with Jasper Quick. My big plans of cleaning and spa treatments were scrapped when I realized how late it was. As soon as I had showered I sent Chris a text. Bumper boats in twenty? Please? I didn’t wait for a reply, I just got into my car and headed over on faith. As I drove I thought about the short list of guys I had found myself in love with over the years.
I dated my first love, Sam, for three years in high school, fooling around in the art room after school behind leftover props from Jesus Christ Superstar. We thought we would be together forever. Being fifteen years old we were grown-ups for God’s sake, how could anything ever change between us? We even went off to the same college, but it wasn’t long before Sam turned into a beer guzzling frat boy who actually allowed other men to spank him on the ass with a paddle, and refused to tell me any details of his initiation.
I watched in horror as the Sam I loved and had planned my entire future with turned into somebody I would not even choose to be friends with. His room in the frat house was despicable and I refused to sleep over, which may have been the reason he found several other girls who were willing to sleep over. But it was okay, because giving up your independence to become a mindless lemming was unacceptable to me.
I soon di
scovered that college was a big place full of new guys and new art rooms to fool around in. Dorm rooms too. We broke up two months into our second semester, and so followed a parade of mostly unremarkable boyfriends and the occasional walk of shame. Eventually I was spat out into the real world, still alone, and three years shy of meeting the second love of my life, Nick Trask. I do not need to tell you how that one turned out.
The third try would be a charm, I just knew it. The only catch was that Chris needed to show up. I was about thirty seconds away from drowning my sorrows in a bag of cotton candy, when my end of the bench rose up like a see-saw as somebody much heavier sat down next to me.
“You come here often?” asked Chris.
Just the sound of his voice began to magically dissolve the weight that had been parked on my chest for the past week.
“I do, actually,” I said. “This lame guy I know thinks it’s cool to bring girls here.”
“You want to hear lame? I used to come here with a girl who makes stick figures out of paperclips.”
“Sounds like genius to me."
A refreshing mist from the bumper boats blew over us, reminding me that I had been waiting in the sun for nearly half an hour in what felt like 150 degree temperatures. My arms were already quite red. I stole a sidelong glance at Chris, but he was staring straight ahead.
“So, um, that guy Nick, he's gone now,” I said, determined not to waste another minute. “I, um, I made it quite clear to him that I met somebody else. Plus his wife flew in last night to get him. It was kind of a big scene.”
“Yeah?” Chris looked over at me for the first time in a week.
“Yeah. It was pretty humiliating, actually. But I deserved it. I even deserved the week of silent treatment that you've been giving me. I mean, I had a crush on Nick for years, and you can’t be mad at me for that because I didn’t even know you then. But when he showed up here I should have sent him home. I should have told him about us right away, but I didn’t. I'm so sorry, Chris. I was a stupid, idiot, moron."
“Nah,” said Chris, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “I overreacted. Like you said, we weren’t even officially dating and I got all psycho possessive over you.” He tilted his head and looked at me sideways. “We've barely even known each other a month, do you realize that?"
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