A Pact For Life

by Elliot, Graham

  Diana, wrapped in a thick coat, gloves, and beanie, was warm despite the forecast calling for snow. Cale, dressed in a gray jacket, jeans, and carrying a backpack with a portable speaker dangling from the bottom was drinking from a water bottle full of gin and tonic. He was burning up despite urges to pace himself.

  “Overall darlin', I would have to say this song, Baby We'll Be Fine, is my favorite song of The National. It makes me feel damn near invincible as soon as it comes on. It's sadness sung in a way that lifts a person up.”

  Diana listened for a moment, focusing on the lyrics. “All we gotta do is be brave and be kind? I'm positive you've said that to me before.”

  Cale laughed, creating a plume of visible breath in the icy air. “You're probably right. I guess I do that a lot. This lyric is just so perfectly them. Sad and depressing, but never losing a smile.”

  “Sounds familiar,” Diana joked and leaned over for a kiss. “Ugh, you reek of gin.”

  Cale didn't say anything. His face was turned up toward the sky as the first few snowflakes of the season came down. Diana, waiting for an answer to her insult, hadn't noticed the snow. As the silence lingered, her last words repeated in her head. It wasn't the words she was thinking of per se, but the tone she said it in. She looked over at Cale smiling up in the air and thought he looked stoned at best, and at worst, mentally retarded. A snowflake landed on her face that made her realize why he was staring up in silence. Why was she so hard on Cale, and even more so, why was he so nice to her in spite of it?

  Not one to hold back what's on her mind, she asked, “Why do you like me?”

  While she posed this question, Cale was taking a gulp from the water bottle and couldn't respond with actual English. Instead, a muffled “Eh?” came out while his lips were still around the bottle.

  “I'm constantly demanding and extremely hard on you.”

  “Oh you don't have to remind me, I'll never forget the time you broke up with me because I was five minutes late to dinner.”

  The snow was falling at a fast enough rate that a few random flakes had turned into big, wet clumps. Brushing off everything that clung to the front of her coat, Diana said, “It wasn't one time you were late, but every time. It drove me nuts.”9

  Cale took one more swig and said, “Well, I guess you could say that I like you because you keep me straight.”

  “Straight?”

  “You know what I mean. It's because you are so hard on me that I don't screw up...as much.”

  She didn't feel justified by this answer. Cale liked her because she was bossy? Before she got the chance to whine about the problem with his response, he spoke first.

  “Also, I wouldn't say you are always bitchy to me.”

  “I didn't say bitchy.”

  “One and the same, darlin'. You're a very strong person. More than most people by far. It's natural you'd expect that same level of strength from everyone else.”

  Alright, this was a better answer. One that made her relieved, possibly even grateful she was the way she was.

  They reached an intersection where they could walk back to Diana's condo or keep going on without a destination. It was decision time, and the weather was the main persuader.

  “Let's go home. It's getting nasty out and tomorrow is an important day at work.” Diana said as the snow picked up its pace.

  “I have this thing too, but will probably skip it. It's some meeting with a city commission from Aspen. They want to go over material and size restrictions for some piece I'm creating for them.”

  Forgetting who she was talking to, Diana said, “You need to go to that. It's important for your career.”

  Cale tried to light a cigarette in the snow. It briefly lit until the snow put it out. Keeping the extinguished cigarette in his mouth, he said, “You should know by now that a career doesn't pertain to people like me. I've never had a resume, ditched a portfolio a long time ago, don't even know what a 401(k)is except it has something to do with retirement. For people like me, there is no such thing as retirement. We create until we die.”

  Diana didn't say anything as Cale continued, “Our worlds are completely different, darlin’. It might sound like an asshole move, but I can skip that meeting with an excuse and they’ll understand. They'll email their guidelines and that will be that. Besides, pretty much the only reason why these guys want to meet in person is to get pictures with me. They think I’m someone special or something.”

  “It always made me laugh when people would get nervous around you. Remember how I thought you were the janitor when we first met? And even after you told me who you were, I still thought you were some art school drop out.”

  “Well, you were right about the art school dropout part,” Cale said and put the cigarette back in the pack. “See, right there, that's why I like you, you've always been real with me.”

  As they walked back toward Diana’s condo, Cale thumbed through his iPod looking for the right song for a nighttime walk through the snow. With a tight squeeze of his hand, Diana said with a smile, “Well I still think you should go to that meeting.”

  The sixth morning: Cale awoke to the sound of his cell phone vibrating its way off Diana's nightstand. With his face down in the pillow, he tried several times to grab it, but only managed to knock it onto the floor. In defeat, he looked down and saw it was Diana calling.

  Groggily, he picked it up and asked, “Hey darlin', what's up?”

  “Cale, the road froze last night, and I can't get out from my parking spot. Can you come out with some towels or something to put under my tires so I can get traction?”

  Cale looked out the window at the gray sky. It wasn't snowing anymore, but it was obvious from the dreary look that it was frigid. He asked, “Why don't you call in sick and come back upstairs? We can take care of your car later.”

  “No, I can't. I have to be in court in three hours, and I need time to prepare. Besides, you need to get up. Staying in bed all day won't do you any good.”

  The nightstand clock said 7:30 which was a time Cale hadn't arisen in years. Sure, he went to bed at that time quite often, but to wake up when restaurants still served breakfast was an entirely new experience. He got up wearing nothing but boxers and went to Diana's dirty clothes hamper to fetch towels. Working past smells he never experienced from Diana, he grabbed enough towels to do the job, threw on some jeans, shoes without socks, but couldn't find his shirt anywhere. Rather than wear a jacket without a shirt underneath like some middle-aged biker, he chose to deal with the cold exposed from the waist up.

  The second Cale stepped outside, the air made his entire body contract and his lungs shut down. He walked over to where Diana usually parked her car, but only found the outline of a car's shape in asphalt surrounded by snow. His cell phone began to vibrate through his jeans and he painfully unwrapped his arms and dug it out.

  “Gotcha,” Diana mockingly said as Cale looked down the street and saw her black Mercedes. “You need to go to that meeting with the Aspen people. It'll be good for you to skip the coffee shop for one day. I'm sure Brian and Nick won't miss you.”

  Cale was speechless. He had been bamboozled by the least likely bamboozler. The nun became the porn star. The porn star became the nun.

  “Now go back inside before you catch a cold.”

  After the shock wore off, Cale was able to fully appreciate the trick. He gave short chuckles at first until his lungs finally opened up and his body expanded into full blown laughter.

  When he got back inside, he proceeded to get ready, thankful Diana got him out of bed. Fully clothed, he left Diana's condo, but he didn't aim for the meeting. His sights were on breakfast and a coffee at Full Steam Ahead.

  The ninth date: It was a Friday night and the Nuggets were playing the Knicks. In a luxury box high above the court, Cale sat with Jenny and her date while Diana was off mingling with the rest of her firm and their more profitable clients. It's safe to say that none of the minglers were watching the game.
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br />   Examining the cocktail glass in front of him, Cale said to no one particular, “I hate martini glasses... wine glasses too for that matter. It’s the thin stems. Why is there a need for such a balancing act when trying to drink?”

  Jenny laughed and took a sip of her cosmo without spilling it.

  Cale continued on, “So your firm spent thousands of dollars on this suite, but we're the only ones watching the game. Don’t you think that’s a waste of money?”

  Jenny responded, “There’s an open bar and a free ticket to a basketball game. Since I happen to be on a date right now, I would say this is an excellent use of their money. What about you, Sean?”

  Jenny's date answered, “I’m having a good time.”

  “I gotta go check on something, I’ll be right back, guys,” Jenny said and got up to leave.

  After she left, Cale looked over at Sean and said, “I always hated the first few dates. It’s like you can’t be yourself. You have to be someone so much better. It’s more of a job interview than anything else. Am I right?”10

  “I think I’ve gone over every detail of my life from birth through age twenty-four. When do you think this will get comfortable?”

  Cale thought for a second before speaking. “Either the first fight and make up or the first time you see each other naked. If you're lucky, then both at once.”

  Sean laughed and replied, “You and Diana seem to have a good relationship.”

  Cale conveniently left out all of the breakups, fights, and pregnancy pact when he said, “You’re right, we are pretty good together. But I gotta tell you, she was a notorious job interview dater when we first started. She used to get so mad when I changed the subject to something ridiculous.”

  “Sean, Cale, come over here for a second!” Jenny yelled amidst a circle of people that consisted of Diana, Jamie, and several white haired men and women.

  The two men walked over as Diana announced, “Cale, Sean, this is Mr. and Mrs. Jonathon DeMint, Mr. and Mrs. Hubert Stanley, and Mr. and Mrs. Gregory Parsons. They are partners in an accounting firm we work closely with…”

  Cale interrupted, “You don’t have to be so formal. First names are fine and… Tom Cruise!” Cale held up his hand to give Jamie five, which caused Jamie to give a nervous glance in Diana’s direction before slowly opening his hand next to his waist otherwise known as 'down low' in nineties lingo.

  After the accountants gave their first names, Cale announced to them all, “You all look very happily married. How long has it been?”

  The wives gave the years for the men. “25, 17, 22.”

  Accountants, by nature, aren't typically surprised by numbers. After being surrounded by them day after day, eventually they lose any distinction and simply become static. It takes a pretty surprising number to get their attention, like for example, years married.

  Each of the accountants' faces had the same expression, but only one of them was dumb enough to say something. “Wow honey, has it really been that long?”

  Seeing the angry look the man’s wife gave led another accountant to try and stop the damage. “Honestly, son, the years have flown by. It’s a wonderful thing to have a soul mate to get ice cream with on Fridays, or walk our Bichons after work, or even just watch TV at night.”

  Sean shot a look of horror at Cale that he didn’t notice because he was too busy with a response. “I know exactly what you mean. We have our own routines. Walking around the neighborhood and listening to music while drinking out of water bottles... there's nothing better. Although I guess it will just be me drinking now that Diana is pregnant.”

  This was the sentence that informed Diana’s firm of her pregnancy.

  It certainly wasn’t what she envisioned, but then again, she hadn’t envisioned anything. It was assumed the news would just spread with the originator being Jenny, but Jenny hadn’t told anyone.

  As the accountants congratulated the two, some of the other partners and staff of Diana’s firm came over to join in. As well wishes poured in, all Diana wanted was to get Cale outside and start yelling, but there was no escape. She was bombarded with congratulations from all sides.

  Thanks to Cale, it was now Diana’s night. She was the main focus of the party, and could talk to anyone about anything.

  After being told she could take off as much time as she needed to focus on the baby, Diana led Cale away from the group with a look of death. The look let Cale know he was in trouble, and so he went into what he thought would be damage control. “Sorry, darlin', I didn't think it would be problem to talk about our walks.” Cale said and grinned, “I'll try and keep your wild ways a secret from now on.”

  Although he completely whiffed on why she was mad, this apology was good enough for Diana. She tapped him once on the cheek and said, “It’s alright, Cale. I'm not mad. I know how boring this must be for you and Sean so if you guys don't want to schmooze anymore, you can go back to watch the game.”

  The two guys hid their excitement as they left the group of stuffy professionals. Sean thought Cale was some sort of genius who had orchestrated a way to get back to the game in the least offensive way possible. Cale thought it was a stroke of luck that stemmed from the gin and the divine.

  The tenth night: Despite his motor skills being diminished, Cale stepped out from the back seat of Nick's white Jetta with the grace of a sober man. He gave a slurred thanks for the ride home, and soon after found himself swaying back and forth in front of the building entrance. He took a deep breath, said, “Well God, help me through this,” and headed on up.

  Upstairs, Diana had just finished her work for the night and was putting away all the folders, notebooks, and binders that a professional such as herself accumulates over the course of a working night.

  Cale hadn't put up a fight when she kicked him out earlier. They had spent so much time together recently that they both needed a night where they could return to their respected former lives of drunken debauchery and nonstop work.

  The knob of Diana's front door rattled and clicked before being replaced by a more traditional knock. Like she’s done many, many times before, Diana got up and opened it to reveal the swaying Cale.

  He didn't waste any time as he rushed forward, planted a kiss, and said the three words that had consumed his night.

  “I love you.”

  Diana fell. She fell and she fell and there was nothing to grab onto except panic.

  “Goddammit, Cale! What... why... what is wrong with you!?”

  “What's the problem, darlin'? I thought this would be a good thing to tell you?”

  Diana bit her lip and thought of what to say. The two couldn't have been farther apart when it came to saying, “I love you.” Diana had never told a man she loved him. It was too big of a phrase for any man she ever dated.

  Cale meanwhile, had said it to plenty of girls. True, every time he said it he was drunk, but this was the way it was done now-a-days. Saying, 'I love you' while intoxicated has a built-in excuse option that most people find useful once or twice in their lives.

  Cale kissed her again and said, “It's alright, we both don't need to agree that we love each other. You can take your time, but my opinion won't change.”

  While he said this, they began to undress each other. Clothes were flung to all corners of the living room as they made their way to the couch. Diana threw Cale down and proceeded to make her way on top of him. While she straddled him, a thought came that she just had to share.

  “Why is this so easy, Cale?”

  “I don't know about you, but it's not that easy for me after all the gin I've had tonight.”

  Diana hit his chest and said, “I'm not talking about that. I mean this whole love versus sex thing. When we first started dating four years ago, we had sex on, what, the second date? It was so easy to do back then, yet saying I love you right now feels like the biggest thing in the world. Why do three words feel so much more powerful than an actual act?”11

  “My dad used to say that se
x is meaningless without love.”

  Diana continued to pontificate, as best as a naked pregnant woman straddling a man could. “I mean, with our generation, there's like this sexual handshake that exists. We have sex as an introduction, and once we get to know the person, then we actually can say we love each other. A hundred years ago, saying 'I love you' was as commonplace as hello, but to even talk about sex was as taboo as possible. What changed?”

  Cale rubbed up and down Diana from her back to her ass. The alcohol was preventing him from coming up with a poignant response.

  “Cale, I don't want to say those words to you right now. I hope you don't take it the wrong way, it's just a big step for me, and I want to make sure it's right when I say it.”

  Cale smiled and rose up to kiss her. He couldn't reach her lips, so he settled on an area between her neck and breasts. As chills ran throughout Diana's body, she realized Cale was the only man who had the ability to make her feel this way. Maybe what she felt for him was love or maybe she wanted to believe it was love? Either way, she didn't want to think about it anymore, so she settled on something much easier – a sexual handshake.

  A RELATIVE PROBLEM

  Diana looked to her left at copies of US Weekly, Women’s Health Journal, and Vanity Fair. She looked to her right at an empty chair that should've been filled by Cale. She looked down at her watch, and wondered how long the examination would take.

  She looked around the waiting room. There were women with stomachs so large they were stretching out their maternity clothes. It wouldn't be long until her stomach was just as big as theirs. She worked so hard for her body, and now it was destined to be ruined.

  The magazines were ignored and all the emails on her phone were answered, so the only option left for Diana was to sit and stew about the impeding loss of her flat stomach. She ran through all of the post-pregnancy surgical options for a good ten minutes until a nurse came out and announced, “Ms. Young?”