by Dee Mann
Paul knew what he would have liked to say, but instead offered, "I think I'll let you discover that for yourself, a little at a time. So, tell me about your friends."
Jillian's eyebrows arched at the unexpected question. "You want to hear about my friends?"
"Of course. If they're over there this late on a work night, I'm guessing they're a big part of your life and someday I hope to meet them, so why not get to know a little about them now. Unless you'd rather not talk about them."
Someday I hope to meet them? Someday I hope to meet them! Does he know what he just said? Is he actually thinking that far ahead? How could he be? We just met.
Jillian thought she should be feeling funny about his self-assurance, his presumption that he'd be around long enough to meet her friends. Instead it made her feel warm inside, peaceful and happy.
What is it about this guy that keeps making me feel so opposite to what I should be feeling?
"So you're serious? You really want me to tell you about Liz and Jenna?"
"Of course. I wouldn't have asked otherwise. How did you meet them?"
"Okay then," she said, reclining on the sofa. "I hope you're sitting down.
"Liz is Elizabeth Farrell. She's my oldest friend. We met in the third grade and hated each other until half-way through the fourth grade. Then this pint-sized terror named Eddie Lepage started picking on both of us, so we called a temporary truce so we could figure out a way to get back at him. We schemed for almost a week before deciding on a plan.
"Are you bored yet?"
"Not at all. I love revenge stories."
"I see. Well, one day during recess, I started taunting Eddie until he started to chase me. I ran halfway around the yard, then around the back of the school where Liz was waiting. As soon as he turned the corner, she jumped out and screamed at the top of lungs, which didn't bother Eddie at all, but did get him to stop. That's when she threw a glass of water at the front of his pants, soaking them.
"The two of us ran back out to the yard where all the other kids were playing. When Eddie came around the corner to get us, we started laughing and pointing, telling everyone Liz scared him so much he peed in his pants."
She could hear Paul chuckling softly.
"Eddie's denials were long and loud but to no avail. From that day, until his family moved away the following year, he was known as Eddie LePee."
She heard his chuckles become laughs. "Eddie LePee! That's a riot. I bet his folks moved to save him from the humiliation."
Jillian matched his laugh. "Maybe so. Anyway, with our mission accomplished, we found we had a lot in common and since neither of us could remember why we hated each other, we decided to be friends, instead. That was eighteen years ago."
"Whoa…eighteen years! My oldest friend is Rob and I met him in high school. What about the other one? What's her name?"
"Jenna. Jennafer Williams. Liz and I met her freshman year in college."
"Which school?"
"Boston University."
"Oh! Good school. I went to Tufts."
"That's a pretty good school, too."
"It was close to home. And I got a discount because I lived in Medford. Hmmm…I wonder if they still do that? Anyway, Jenna?"
"She was the third girl in a triple dorm room."
"Holy crap! Three girls in one room? With one bathroom?"
"You have no idea! But anyway, we'd all won scholarships…or rather, the school gave Liz and I scholarships. Jenna got hers by winning some national science contest."
"Wow, she must be pretty smart."
"She sure is. But she's such a goofball you'd never know it outside the lab where she works."
Jillian found herself telling him things about Liz and Jenna, what they did, what they liked, things she might have expected to tell a new girlfriend, but not some guy she'd just met.
"Man, I wish I had a friend like Liz. You two sound more like sisters than friends."
"I guess we are, really."
"At our age, it's hard to imagine having had a best friend for eighteen years. And speaking of age, if I've done my math correctly, you would be 25?"
"Your math is correct," she replied. "Now, to get your age, how much should I add or subtract from mine?"
"You should add three."
"Twenty-eight! You're twenty-eight? I never would have guessed. I thought you were my age, or younger."
"It's my boyish good looks. They're a curse, really. But it's true, I'm only two years away from the big three-oh. Can Social Security be far behind?"
As the conversation continued, each offered tidbits of information, about work, friends, likes, dislikes; the things two people usually offer up at the beginning of a new relationship.
Paul was charming, constantly making her laugh. Both were so caught up in the dialogue, time flew by.
When Jillian thought to check, she was shocked to see it was well after midnight.
Didn't the phone just ring a few minutes ago?
"You know I was so embarrassed at lunch today, I just wanted to go hide somewhere."
"I remember," he said, chuckling, "but there was no reason to be embarrassed. You were nervous. So was I. Heck, if you hadn't knocked it over, I probably would have. Actually, I was more relieved than anything else."
"Relieved?"
"Sure. After all, I made such a fool of myself this morning, and I had this vision of you as, you know, so cool and calm and detached. I had no idea what to say or do to impress you. I just knew I had to. And when the coffee went flying, and you got all flustered…well, I knew we were okay. I knew you'd laugh at my ‘most beautiful' joke and I knew we'd hit it off.
"You knew that? How?"
"I'm not sure. I guess because if you really were the cold, aloof type, you wouldn't have reacted that way to the spill. And to tell the truth, by then I had a feeling, but it was probably more hoping than knowing how you'd react to the joke."
Jillian found herself nodding, pleased that his answers were so honest and unguarded.
"Since we're doing True Confessions here, I had planned to come in all cold and aloof, what you were expecting, just to test you. I was really afraid you were playing me and I didn't want any part of it, if that's what it was. Knocking over the coffee and you being so nice about it sort of reset my attitude I think."
"Well I'm very glad it did."
"Me too."
Her eyes flicked to the clock again. "You realize it's way after midnight, and I have to get up for work in the morning."
Paul sighed. "I know. So do I. I just don't want to let go of your voice…"
That warm, comfortable feeling flowed through her again.
"…but I will. So now the moment of truth has arrived. Would you like to go out with me Friday night?"
"No."
There was dead silence on the phone line. Paul's face had drained to a ghostly white. Was she really turning him down?
"I'd like to go out with you tomorrow night but I can't because I have yoga class and then dinner plans with some friends. So I guess I'll have to hold out until Friday."
It took a moment for Paul to recover his voice and for the color to return to his face.
"You know you almost gave me a heart attack. Was that…"
"Payback for the joke this afternoon? Yes it was." Jillian laughed. "Still want to go out with me?"
Paul was laughing now as well. "Oh yes. I have a feeling getting to know you will be the most interesting thing I'll ever do."
THURSDAY, MAY 6
7:35 AM
Paul and Rob stood near the window of the coffee shop sipping their morning caffeine as they scanned the sidewalk.
"I'm glad to hear it, man." Paul's eyes never paused as they swept back-and-forth.
His friend nodded. "It was weird. Debbie was so nice, you know? She really has her act together, unlike some of us. We seemed to hit it off and all, but the more I got to know her, and the more I realized how great she was, the more I missed Lisa. Even worse, though, is th
at I'm pretty sure Debbie would have invited me home if I'd shown even the slightest interest. But I knew it would have felt like I was cheating on Lisa. Besides, I think Marianne might have grabbed her gun and shot me had I dared set foot inside Debbie's apartment."
"I'm guessing you two didn't get along well after I left?"
"Man, she started in on me as soon as you were out the door. She all but tore me a new one because I'd dragged you there rather than let you get home to call coffee girl. She went on and on and on about it. Whatever you told her made one hell of an impression."
"I told her about meeting Jillian and what happened at lunch, the same things I told you."
"Well, she obviously read more into it than I did, because she reamed me good."
Paul laughed. He could picture Marianne berating Rob. "In your defense, you were a little preoccupied with your own problems with Lisa."
"Maybe so, but she certainly liked you. When I said goodbye to them at the subway, I got the impression they'd be talking about you and coffee girl all night."
"Jillian."
"What?"
"Jillian. Her name is Jillian, not coffee girl."
"Oooo, touchy, touchy. Jillian it is then, but I don't think she's coming."
Paul glanced at his watch and sighed. It was quarter to eight. He really wanted to see her again this morning.
Last night, after saying goodbye, he tried to sleep but found he could not get her off his mind. Her face, her voice, the way she'd looked from behind as he chased after her that morning, everything kept playing back over and over. He thought he finally fell asleep sometime after two. And when his alarm clock buzzed at 6:30, his first thought had been of her and how she might look in the morning.
"Let's give it few more minutes. So what are you going to do about Lisa?"
"Well, last night I burned a CD with a bunch of songs to tell her I'm sorry, and I miss her, and all. I was up until almost two-thirty figuring out what to put on it. And I'm sending flowers to her at work this morning and including the CD and a letter I wrote last night."
"A letter? You wrote a letter?"
"Well, I do have some skills in that area."
"What did you write?"
"None of your business."
Paul turned from the window to stare at his friend. "You know this may be your last chance."
He continued to stare until Rob relented.
"I basically told her I was an idiot, that I've been thinking about all the things I did wrong, or didn't do, or should have done, that I miss her a lot, and all the things I miss about her, and that I really hope she'll give me one more chance."
"That's it? Didn't you forget something important?"
"No, I didn't forget," Rob said with a pained expression. "I told her how much I love her and all that."
Paul nodded. "Good. I hope it works, I really do. I like you two together. You fit. So, when are you sending them?"
"I figured I'd call as soon as we get to work. There's a florist over on Newbury Street that opens at eight. I'll have them stop by the office first to show me the arrangement and so I can attach the CD and note."
"Very nice plan," Paul said, formulating one of his own.
"Come on, man. She's not coming. If we don't get our asses in gear, we'll be late for work."
Paul took a last peek at the sidewalk.
"Maybe she went in early or didn't want coffee today," Rob offered.
Paul sighed again, nodded, and followed his friend out the door.
As they crossed West Street on the way to the office, Rob asked, "So what's up with you and Jillian? Did she put a spell on you or something?"
"I think so. I don't know what it is. I mean I've only talked to her three times, but I feel like I've known her forever. Remember when you and Lisa first hooked up? Remember how you couldn't think or talk about anything else?
"Well…"
"Don't even try to deny it. Nobody could stand you for the first month."
"What do you mean?"
"Rob, it was bad enough that all you did at work was talk about how great she was, and that she was all you talked about on those suddenly rare occasions after work when you found time for your friends, but man, once you even brought her to the poker game. Even she thought you were nuts that time."
"No way. She…"
"She left after twenty minutes. Why the hell would she want to hang out with five guys drinking and playing cards? And then, after you spent fifteen minutes in the hall saying goodbye, you came back in and spent the next three hours telling us how much you missed her."
"Okay, okay, so what's your point?"
Paul came to an abrupt halt, grabbing his friend's arm. Turning to face him, with an almost forlorn look on his face, he said, "I think I have it worse than that."
10:10 AM
The eight foot square that defined Jillian's workspace at Metro Magazine was lined with file cabinets, bookcases, a drafting table, her desk, and a long table that held her computer and the other state-of-the-art electronics a graphic designer uses.
It was one of eighteen work, storage, and utility spaces that filled the cavernous graphic arts room, along with an office for the Design Manager, and a break room that doubled as a meeting room. Jillian's desk and computer were arranged to face away from the goings on, allowing her to focus on her work.
Her reputation for concentration was legendary in the workgroup, so it was no surprise she didn't hear the deliveryman call her name.
After the second call, several heads popped up and the occupant of the space nearest the door indicated where Jillian could be found. Half-a-dozen people, including Shandra and Marie, Jillian's closest work friends, followed him down the aisle.
"Jillian Marshall?"
"Yes?" She didn't look up from her computer screen.
He placed the vase in the center of her desk and held out a clipboard and pen. "Sign here please."
Jillian turned, saw the flowers, then the clipboard, then the deliveryman. "Those are for me?
"If you're Jillian Marshall they are. Sign on line two please."
Jillian took the clipboard, signed and asked, "Who are they from?"
"As if you didn't know, girl," said Shandra.
"There's a card." He plucked it from the holder and handed it to her as he retrieved the clipboard, said "Enjoy the flowers," and turned to leave.
The crowd in the aisle had grown to an even dozen, including her boss, Cathy, who had been lured from her office by the commotion. Comments and questions were coming to Jillian from all sides.
"Open the card."
"Nice flowers."
"No one ever sends me flowers like that."
"What's his name, Jill?"
Finally, Shandra said, "Come on girl. Don't keep us all in suspense. Open the card."
Jillian surveyed the expectant faces, then slid the card from the envelope, read it, and smiled, covering her mouth as she did so.
Marie couldn't stand the suspense. "Well what does it say?"
"I miss your voice," Jillian replied softly.
"That's all?" asked Shandra.
"That's enough. That's perfect."
Reaction among the crowd ranged from rolling eyes to shaking heads as everyone but Shandra and Marie dispersed.
"They're from coffee guy, right?" Marie asked.
Jillian nodded.
"I knew it. You saw him last night, didn't you? You two hooked up late and now he's sending you flowers. You're bad, girl."
Jillian tried to feign offense but was too happy to pull it off. "No. I swear. I was with Liz and Jenna until almost eleven. He called as they were leaving and we talked for about an hour. That's all."
Clearly, the two did not believe her.
"No man ever sent me flowers just for talking to him," Shandra said.
Implication filled Marie's accusing gaze. "Me neither. Just what kind of talking did you two do last night?"
"I told you. It was all completely innocent. Now go aw
ay, I have work to do."
Shandra and Marie flung skeptical looks at their friend before they retreated down the aisle, whispering and glancing back at Jillian, who had returned to her computer.
She stared at the screen for a few seconds, then turned and reached for the flowers.
Callas. He sent me Calla lilies. How could he know?
She was all smiles and dreamy looks as she first studied the vase of creamy white flowers and then the card on which he'd written the note and his work number. She picked up the phone and dialed.
"Paul DiLorenzo."
"Thank you for the flowers, Paul. They're lovely."
"What?"
"Thank you for the flowers. They're lovely."
"Who is this?"
"Jerk," she said, laughing.
"I'm glad you liked them. I thought they might be a bit much since we've only talked a few times, but I really was missing your voice, especially since you didn't show up this morning. I thought the flowers might be a good way to get you to call."
"Show up?"
"At the coffee shop."
"Oh! It never occurred to me to tell you. It was Shandra's turn to get the coffee this morning. Three of us take turns. I hope you didn't wait too long."
"Nah, just long enough to almost be late for work.
"Poor guy."
"But it's okay now that I've heard your voice. Any thoughts on where we should go and what we should do tomorrow?"
"Well, I am partial to food. After that, surprise me."
"Surprise you, eh? Any limitations?"
"Nothing illegal."
"Shucks."
"Or immoral."
"Damn. You're killing all my good ideas."
Jillian laughed again. It was getting to be a habit whenever she talked to him.
"Poor baby. I guess you'll have to think a little harder."
"Now I like the sound of that."
"Bye Paul."
"How about lunch today?"
"Can't. I already have a date…" Jillian paused for a few seconds, grinning as she listened to the silence, "…with my boss and three other people from the department. The publisher wants to do a special issue next week and wants some design suggestions."
"Hmmm. I think I owe you one for that. Call me when you get home tonight?"
