“Sophie? Hey. It’s Liam.”
“Hi, Liam.” Surprise and enthusiasm infused her voice.
“I just wanted to call and let you know I had a great time yesterday.”
“Me, too. I can’t believe we talked for that long,” she giggled.
“Yeah, I know,” I didn’t giggle; I was too nervous to giggle. “Um, I was also calling because there is this White Elephant Christmas Party this coming Thursday. My friend, Justin and his girlfriend, Rachel are throwing one this year and I was wondering if you wanted to come.”
“Oh,” she hesitated, “sure…but…what is a White Elephant Party?”
“It’s where you bring a wrapped gift, something stupid or off-the-wall funny, and there’s a game out of it. It should be fun.”
“Oh, okay.”
I cleared my throat. “And it’ll probably be better if I drive you there, because there isn’t much parking over at their place.”
“Sure. I can drive over to your place if you want, and we can go from there.”
“That works. I’ll message you all the info later today.”
“Okay. Sounds good.”
14
Today was the big event. I was going to see Sophie and I was hoping for a kiss this time. I’d been thinking about kissing her since I dropped her off the other night.
I woke up before my alarm rang. The sun hadn’t even poked through my window yet. I decided to run off my nervous energy before I got ready for the evening.
The run was just what I needed. The air was brisk and cold. My body lurched forward in response and I pumped my arms and legs as hard as I could. I brushed past the bare trees and soaked in the biting, cold air. I greeted the passersby with a friendly “Hello,” noting how many people actually acknowledged me and reciprocated…an astounding one out of five. (What’s wrong with the world these days? Where is the hospitality and good-natured warmth of human interaction?)
Two hours later, I submitted to the soreness of my legs and aches from the arches of my feet, retreating back to the house. I resigned myself to living with the nervous energy that remained.
The rich aroma of coffee beans and vanilla flooded my nostrils and the crackling of turkey bacon tickled my ears.
“Hey, Bud. Want breakfast?”
My stomach growled in response. “Definitely.”
The benefits of living without women—I could be dripping with sweat, covered in a thick aroma of sour gym socks, and wouldn’t have to wash up and change my clothes before plopping down at the table to eat.
Dad poured me a mug of hot coffee, dished some eggs and bacon, with a side of toast and orange marmalade and placed all the deliciousness on the table while I washed my hands. Can’t be too careful of those pesky germs.
“Thanks, Dad.”
“Sure. Hey, Bud—”
He hesitated, choosing to go for a slow sip of coffee instead of finishing his sentence. I felt Dad eyeing me curiously. I knew he’d been worried about me for the past few days…well, technically years, but he never talked to me about it. I was startled when he actually continued.
“What have you been up to recently?”
“Uh. What do you mean?”
“Well, you seem…different lately…good different…and I just wanted to know the reason. Did you meet someone?” He bit hard into a piece of marmalade-slathered toast.
Wow, he was more perceptive than I gave him credit for.
“Actually, I think so. Her name is Sophie. Hey, I’m taking her to Justin’s Christmas party tonight—if you’re home, you’ll probably get to meet her. She’ll be over around five-thirty to meet up.”
“Okay. That’s great, Bud.” Worry still marked his voice. It didn’t surprise me that he was concerned or hesitant. Dad did not have much luck in this department. He pretty much blamed women for his current, Eeyore-like state.
Wiping. Sweeping. Laundry. Dishes. Scrubbing. I spent the rest of the day getting ready for Sophie. I heard Dad’s quiet laughter as he, not so discreetly, observed from his recliner. He decided to go to the market to give me some space.
Satisfied with my cleaning job, I returned to the kitchen and started preparing the banana bread. I recalled mentioning to Sophie that I was going to bake her some of my “special” banana bread. Really, it wasn’t that special, but I thought it tasted good and I was trying to perfect the recipe—any excuse to make another trial batch was a good one in my book. I slid the two pans into the oven, cleaned the kitchen a second time (Should have waited, I thought to myself), showered, shaved, dressed, and moved to the living room to try and relax.
Instead of relaxing, I flitted around the room, adjusting the angles of things, picking small pieces of lint from the furniture, and reevaluating the décor. I lit a pumpkin spice candle. Then I started the fireplace. Dad had already decorated the living room for Christmas; a lighted mini-tree brightened the corner table, and a fragrant wreath of freshly-cut greens, tied with a red velvet bow, hung over the fireplace. I decided the room looked cozy enough.
I heard a car crunching up the gravel driveway. Glancing at the clock, it read 5:20 P.M. I smiled. Always a little early.
I waved to Sophie as I guided her to a spot where she could park her silver Civic. When she stepped out, my breath caught in my throat. Her striking beauty, making me numb, making me lost for words.
“Hi.”
“Hi, Liam.”
Dad was out in the garage. I brought her over to see him.
“Dad, this is Sophie. Sophie, this is my dad, Jack.”
“Hi, Sophie. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Yes, it’s nice to meet you, too.” Relief set in when I caught the approving glint in his eye. It surprised me how much his approval affected me.
“Please, come in.” I led her through the kitchen door. Perfect. The sweet aroma of banana bread filled the kitchen. The warmth surrounding us now, calming my nerves. I carefully watched her as she slowly, cautiously, glided through the kitchen to the living room; her movements were as graceful as a ballerina. Her eyes seemed to catch everything, take it all in, like she was a detective searching for clues to crack an open case. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I let out a harsh exhale. She jumped, turned, and smiled. I had a strong urge to take her to the couch, wrap her in my arms and hold her. Of course, I didn’t…that would be like committing suicide. Instead, I headed toward my guitar and started mindlessly tuning it.
“Would you like to hear a song?”
Her eyes brightened, “Sure.”
She sat back on the couch and eagerly watched as I showed her another piece of myself. I played her James Taylor’s, You’ve Got a Friend, since I was sure I could play that piece flawlessly.
“Just so you’re forewarned…I don’t have the best singing voice.”
She nodded.
As I played, I took quick glances her way—I didn’t want to distract myself too much and mess up, of course. I noticed recognition in her eyes as I played. She perked up and held a soft smile, her eyes never straying from me, mouthing the words in a silent duet. Happiness and confidence flowed through me.
Sophie’s smile widened as she clapped.
“Wow. You were so good!”
“Thanks.” I felt a little smug, but also a little sheepish.
“You know, that’s my dad’s favorite song.”
“Really?” Now I recognized meaning behind her smile. It was the same one she had the other day when she mentioned her family. It was filled with love.
Buzzzzzzz. The oven prevented any encores.
“The banana bread must be ready. Just give me a minute.” I jumped up to check on the bread, hardily noticing her quiet footsteps behind me.
“Mmm, that looks delicious.”
“It came out perfectly. I decided to bake a loaf to bring to the party tonight. I made the second for my dad. It’ll make him happy. He has cravings for banana bread during this time of the year. You can take some home, if you’d like.”
&
nbsp; Sophie nodded silently, smiling.
I smiled. She’s so cute.
15
When we arrived, everyone was already there: Tiffany and Ethan, Brian and Ava, Justin and Rachel. I hesitated, stealing a quick look at Sophie. I was sure she’d figure out this was an intimate party of couples. I hoped she didn’t feel uncomfortable. Who am I kidding, of course she feels awkward. She’s not brainless like some women I know. Thankfully, falling right into her hostess role, Rachel came over to break the ice and ask Sophie if she wanted anything to drink.
“What do you have?” Sophie asked softly, almost inaudibly. Yep, she’s nervous.
“Well, I could make you a mixed drink.” She noticed Sophie’s slight cringe. Rachel quickly continued, “We also have wine, Diet Coke, Sprite, orange juice, or water.”
“Diet Coke, please.”
“Coming right up.”
The night seemed to be going better than I expected. Everyone seemed to try their best to make Sophie feel comfortable and included. They also didn’t make any snide remarks or underlying punches and jokes, which was a typical pastime among this group.
There were moments when I held my breath: when the fart jokes started up, when Justin stood on the table and reached for his belt (thankfully aborting the idea of casting a full, hairy moon on the party), and a few choice times when the f-bombs flowed like wine.
We ate pizza, drank, and laughed. Sophie seemed more relaxed, and easily fit right in. But then the White Elephant game started.
The first gag gift was a candy thong. Ethan tried it on over his trousers, and everyone laughed at the horror of it. Brian stole it, tried to be funny by taking a bite out of it, but it just made our stomachs churn. Ethan’s next gift was a book, 100 Ways to Please Your Partner. Tiffany opened a board game…that you have to play in bed (everyone wanted that one). See the trend?
Sophie tensed up and her back straightened. She was definitely uncomfortable and I was stressed; my stomach tied in knots. She was smiling, but her eyes showed fear. It was her turn. Her gentle hands roamed over the gifts. She hesitated and opened one. She let out a tiny gasp and then a nervous giggle when she showed her gift. It was a love potion kit.
“I wonder who you’re going to use it on, wink-wink,” Tiffany butted in.
Sophie stifled a nervous giggle and I glared at Tiffany. She seemed dumbfounded by my disapproval. She was definitely one of those brainless blondes.
The game went around a few more times. I got a foot scrubber and bubble bath kit. I felt Sophie sink in her chair. My smile widened. Sophie must have brought this one. Her innocence was refreshing.
We got back around midnight. One light was on in the house. Dad must’ve left it on for us. Walking Sophie to her car, I noticed my pulse race; my hands were shaking. I quickly jammed them into my pockets before she noticed. I shuddered. Luckily, it was chilly tonight. As we walked, it seemed like we were knee deep in sand. Neither one of us said anything. My mind went blank. I have to say something. I cleared my throat.
“Um…I like your…style.” Fuck! What was that? I felt like punching myself.
“Uh…thanks?”
There was silence again. I wasn’t about to say something stupid…again. We finally got to her car. I can do this. I can do this. Just lean in and kiss her. Come on, be a man. I leaned in, hesitated, and then she turned slightly and…hugged me.
“Good night. It was fun.”
“Um, yeah…fun. Night.”
She got quickly into her car and left. I just stood there, dumbstruck. What in the hell just happened? I panicked. Without thinking, I grabbed my phone and started texting:
I was going to kiss you tonight.
Somehow, I walked back inside, went straight to my room, and landed on my bedspread without even bothering to take off my shoes. I stared up at the wall, fully dressed, and cried. Hot, salty tears burned my face. My body curled into the fetal position. I was horror-stricken. I felt crippled. Hurt. Anxious. I was drowning in…feelings. I was crushed. That was pathetic. I am not a man, just a little boy. She must be so weirded out, so turned off. Have I just lost her?
~ Sophie ~
16
Exhausted, I walked into my room and got ready for bed. That was weird. I wonder if…NO. No, he was just giving me a hug good-bye. I shook the ridiculous thought away and finished washing my face and brushing my teeth. I turned off the light and grabbed my phone to set the alarm when I saw the text message:
I was going to kiss you tonight.
My mind went numb. I started shaking; heat crept up inside me and I pushed it down. I needed to think. How do I feel—good…excited…numb…? Yes, numb. Is that weird? How should I feel? Is this real? I mulled it over in my head. He—was—going—to—kiss—me.
If I hadn’t made that quick move and hugged him first…I could’ve had my first kiss…Isn’t it too early? Sigh, I don’t know…I don’t know. Why now? Why like this? Why can’t it be a little easier? I shut down. I decided not to text him back, to wait until I knew exactly what to say.
Once I was able to feel my pulse slowing, I finally drifted off to a dreamless sleep.
The next morning, I decided to send him a quick message. I wanted to make sure I said everything I needed to without being distracted by his soft eyes or kind voice. I wanted to be coherent, not flustered, so I did the cowardly thing and messaged him:
December 23, 2005 8:22 AM
Subject: Text…
Body:
Hi Liam,
I got your text msg. I’m not quite sure how to respond to that but here it goes…
I didn’t really know that you were try’n to kiss me…so…sorry?
Haha uhh yea…
I’m not quite sure exactly how I feel about you…I mean I like you and it’s great spending time with you, but I’m just not used to all of this…“all of this” in terms of “seeing/dating” someone…sooo…
I’m kind of stuck with this explanation right now and I’ll continue later, but I just wanted to say something about it right now.
-Sophie
I felt a little more relaxed after I sent it. I hoped it might give me some time to process my thoughts and figure out where I stood. I was more in shock at that moment than anything else. I just couldn’t believe someone liked me enough that he wanted to kiss me.
Since I waited so long for this moment, I had to be sure he was the one I wanted to give that first kiss to. Was I being rational? Picky? Cowardly? I settled on picky. Yes, picky is a good thing when it comes to this stuff.
Only thirty minutes passed when Liam sent a response message. Wow. That was fast. His words surprised me:
December 23, 2005 8:52 AM
Subject: RE: Text…
Body:
Sophie,
I’m really sorry…I hope I haven’t offended you. I shouldn’t have sent that text message, but I was all nervous. I mean, I was wishing I would have kissed you, and then I chickened out, and I just felt really weird and awkward afterward. And that party already had me feeling anxious because I was trying to participate but all that stuff just makes me hyperventilate. Gosh, I’m SO bad at this stuff. Like when I said “I like your style,” what I meant was to say that I like YOU. Nothing ever comes out right with me. By sending that message I just made things worse…please don’t feel bad! I’m an IDIOT…Look, we don’t really know much about each other’s “dating” experience, but I can assure you I am much more afraid of it than you are. I like you, Sophie, and would like to spend more time with you (no pressure, or “dating” or “seeing”)…let’s just get comfortable with each other! I have no time table, no expectations, I’m just a real moron. I understand if you’d rather not see me anymore, though, because man am I lame. SO lame.
I hope you have a great weekend, and hopefully we can talk when you get back. Sophie, however it works out, I’m glad I met you.
Liam
Humble. Honest. Pure. Pain. Liam’s words stung me. He sounded hurt and guilty. I didn’t
realize how much he liked me. I didn’t think it was possible. What have I gotten myself into? No matter what, I liked Liam and I knew he was a very sweet and humble guy. Much too humble.
I decided to message him again so he would know that I was really fine, and he shouldn’t think twice about it. I didn’t want him to have the wrong idea:
December 23, 2005 9:17 AM
Subject: RE: RE: Text…
Body:
Hey Liam,
Don’t worry about it. No, you didn’t offend me nor should u feel bad, nervous, etc.
We’ll just hang out sometime after Christmas?
Merry Christmas!
-Sophie
I hoped my message came across as chipper and carefree. Waiting by the computer, I received a response an hour later:
December 23, 2005 10:53 AM
Subject: RE: RE: RE: Text…
Body:
Hi Sophie,
Thank you for being okay with everything…I’d love to hang out with you sometime after Christmas.
Merry Christmas to you, too!
Liam
Sophie's Smile: A Novel Page 9
