by Reese Ryan
Jamie takes the glass from my hand. “Melanie, you’ve been shaking the melted ice in that glass for the past ten minutes. What’s wrong?”
“Sorry. I’ve got a lot going on at work.”
“I tried to wait ’til you were ready to talk about it, but I can see that’s never going to happen.” Jamie sighs then puts my glass down on a coaster on the coffee table. “You were seeing someone in Cali, weren’t you?”
I draw my knees into my chest and wrap my arms around them. “How’d you know?”
“I know we’ve lived in different states for the past five years, but I’ve been your best friend since you were eight. You think I don’t know you?”
“I didn’t know about Miles. Does that mean I’m a really bad friend?”
“Not a bad friend, a distracted one,” she says gently. “But don’t change the subject. We’ll talk later about how you can be a better friend.” She smiles and slaps the top of my bare foot. “So, out with it. Who’s this guy, and why haven’t we heard about him?”
“He isn’t a complete secret. I did tell you about him.”
“Not that loser, Craig Bathead. He was a pompous ass. I still regret not decking him.”
“Craig Battier,” I correct, though I know it wasn’t a mistake. “It isn’t him.”
“A guy from work?”
“The guy I worked with to find alternate placement for candidates who aren’t right for us, Raine Mason.”
“The guy you had the mutual escort service going with? I asked if you two were an item. You lied to me?”
“No, I didn’t.” She shoots me a look. “Honestly! The night of my promotion I wanted to go out and celebrate, but no one was around, so Raine and I went out to dinner. Then Debbie and Dawn, my neighbors, crashed the party. Well, they didn’t exactly crash it because I invited them before I’d invited Raine—”
“Stay focused, Mel.” Jamie snaps her fingers impatiently. “Get to the point where this turns into friends with benefits.”
I cringe. That was once Jamie’s favorite moniker for the men who drifted in and out of her life. I’ve always hated the term, but I’m beginning to see its merit.
“Right. He shows up at my door that night. Before I’ve got the door open good, he’s got his tongue down my throat.”
“And this was a total surprise to you?” Jamie has her arms crossed and her legs folded. She raises one eyebrow. “He just follows you home and jumps you.”
“I didn’t expect it, exactly, but...” I squirm a little. “I was wearing my Seven jeans and a pair of stilettos, for God’s sake. I never wear stilettos.”
Jamie sits back and smiles slyly. “So, you were hoping for a slightly less guilt-inducing version of the one-night stand before you fled to the comfort and safety of home. Sort of a love ’em and leave ’em deal? I had no idea you had it in you. Maybe you did learn something from me after all.”
I groan. “You make it sound so crass. It wasn’t like that. I just...wanted to know what it would be like to be with him. It was my last chance to find out.”
“And...” Jamie drags the word out. “How was it?”
“Amazing. The best sex of my life, which is pretty sad. That’s way too long to wait for great sex.”
“It’s about damn time.” Jamie raises her hand, and I give her a reluctant high-five. “Now, back to the story. You had mind-numbing sex, then what?”
“That’s the thing. The intimacy was great, but somehow it blossomed into an actual relationship over those three weeks. A relationship with a death sentence,” I add.
“How’d you leave things?”
“Over.” I rest my chin on my knees and stare at the floor.
“You’re both okay with that?”
“I am.” I lower my eyes and fiddle with a jagged fingernail. Maybe saying it aloud will make it true. “He isn’t.”
Jamie reaches out to grab my hands. I raise my gaze to hers again. She narrows her eyes at me and cocks her head to the side, the way she does when she knows I’m completely full of shit about something. I got that look a lot when I was dating Jaxson. She lets out a little sigh. Apparently she’s decided to give me a reprieve this time. “What did he say?”
“That he thinks this relationship is worth fighting for.”
“You’ve always been a hopeless romantic.” Jamie smiles. “So, why’d you turn him down?”
“I’ve worked for years to get where I am in my career. I’d be crazy to throw it away for a relationship that could last six weeks or six months.”
“Or for the rest of your life.” Jamie gets up to put our glasses away.
I stare at the back of her head like an alien just popped out of her long, sleek ponytail. “Are you saying I should’ve passed on my promotion for the vague possibility that Raine is my happily-ever-after?”
Jamie rinses the glasses in the sink. “Of course not! I’d never tell you to tank your career for some dude. No matter how good-looking or great in the sack he is.”
“Then what are you saying?” I follow her into the kitchen.
Jamie shrugs. “From everything you’ve told me about Raine, seems like he’s your Richard Gere. I hate to think you missed out on him.”
“We had an entire year to give this relationship a chance. If it’d really been important to either of us, we would’ve made a move.” I plop down on a stool and fiddle with some mail on the counter. “Don’t you think?”
Jamie shrugs again, something that’s beginning to annoy me.
“It makes sense, but for some of us it takes a little longer for the light to come on.” She wipes the counter with a rag but stops for a moment and looks at me squarely. “I’m glad Miles was a lot smarter about this whole thing than I was. He didn’t give up on me when I was too stupid to realize I deserved this, or that I even wanted it. I guess I’m afraid Raine was that guy. The one who makes it all worth it. That’s all.”
“That’s all?” I say, indignantly. “You tell me I probably blew my chance for happiness and then say, ‘That’s all.’ I feel bad enough about this as it is, James.”
“I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just trying to take care of you the way your family has always taken care of me. I was this messed-up little girl living in a trailer park with her crackhead mom.
“My father walked out and hasn’t given me a single thought in more than twenty years. My own mother couldn’t love me more than her parade of boyfriends or a bottle of cheap booze. And you guys...you’ve been amazing to me. You took me in and treated me like I was a member of your family. You’ve put up with my crazy phases and bad habits. Through it all we’ve remained friends—even when I didn’t deserve it.” Jamie wipes tears away with the back of her wrist, careful not to get soap in her eyes.
“You do deserve our love, Jamie. You’re family and you’re my best friend.” I offer her another tissue. She waves it off.
“The best thing I ever did was follow you home that day.” She laughs.
I laugh, too, remembering her tattered jeans, dirty face and Punky Brewster ponytails and bangs.
“I’ve given a lot of thought to what my life would’ve been like if you hadn’t taken me in. I’d be a Kit De Luca or living on the streets somewhere. Maybe even dead. You guys changed my life and you never gave up on me. Now I’m asking you not to give up.”
“What do you mean?”
She sighs. “I know that asshole hurt you. But that doesn’t mean you won’t find someone else.”
I open my mouth to object, to tell her this has nothing to do with Jaxson, but Jamie cuts me off.
“You’re smart and successful. That’s great, and I’m proud of you. I know you don’t need a man to make you happy. All I’m saying is, don’t close your heart to the possibility of finding that guy—the guy who makes it all worth it.”
She turns the faucet back on. “End of speech.”
I want to tell her she’s got a lot of nerve switching sides when I finally decide she’s been right all along, that relationships aren’t worth the trouble. But I don’t. “I won’t,” I say. “I promise.”
Chapter Eleven
I sit in my office completing paperwork on a Tuesday night. Leslie Morales, my assistant, is gone for the day. I’m in no hurry to go home. It’s not like anyone is there waiting for me. At home, I’ll just sit on the sofa and watch TV while eating a Lean Cuisine and sipping a cup of tiramisu tea. I can do that here while getting some work done.
My phone beeps to alert me of a new email message. I pick up the phone and check my personal email. It’s Raine. He’s left me at least one voice message, email or text message per week since I left San Francisco.
The first messages were friendly inquiries. How’s it going? How is the new office? What’s the weather like? Any plans for this weekend? After the first few weeks the messages turned serious. I miss you. I want you. Can I come to see you?
I stopped responding soon thereafter. I wasn’t sure what to say. Or maybe I was, but I was too afraid to say it.
My lack of response to his messages in no way discouraged him from sending them.
Hi Melanie!
Hope you’re enjoying dinner or reading a good book rather than hanging around your office. Just thought you’d want to know that DJ, your last referral, completed his training program yesterday. He’s done a great job. We’re proud of him and hopeful about his future.
He’s grateful you referred him to the program. He’s embarrassed by his initial call to you. He says you must have thought he was an idiot. He can’t believe you took the time to help steer him in the right direction.
I told him that’s the kind of person you are. You’ve got a big heart. It’s one of the things I love most about you.
Well that’s it. Just wanted to update you on DJ’s progress and let you know that, as always, I’m thinking of you. Hope to hear from you soon.
Love,
Raine
I smile, thinking of what an amazing person Raine is and what wonderful work his organization is doing.
I read his email again. As always, I’m thinking of you. I slide the phone away from me and sit back against my chair.
The sound of his voice echoes faintly in my head. Warmth spreads throughout my body and my cheeks are flushed. The memories I’ve tried to suppress come rushing back. Our first kiss, the feel of his hands on my skin, the gruff sound of his voice in the early hours of the morning.
My heartbeat quickens and I’m overwhelmed by a prickling sensation, like ten long fingers, inching down my spine. My eyes widen and I unbutton the top button of my shirt. I grab a bottle of water out of the mini-fridge and try to catch my breath. It’s taken so much effort and energy to avoid these memories and thoughts of what might have been between us. Maybe Jamie’s right about Raine being that guy. The one I’d be crazy to give up without a fight.
The idea of entering into a long-distance relationship is absurd. Spending time together is what I love most about being in a relationship. Running errands on a Saturday afternoon. Going to a movie on a Friday night. Cozying up on the couch. Spooning in bed. What’s the point in starting a relationship where the things I treasure most are a rarity? Talk about being a masochist.
Yet I find myself reaching for the office phone, hand trembling, heart racing. I pick up the receiver and dial Raine’s cell phone. My breath comes in short, quick bursts.
“Melanie?”
“Hi.” I try to stifle the joy that rises in my chest.
“Still in the office, huh?” I can hear the smile in his voice. “It’s great to hear from you, beautiful. Hope you aren’t working too hard.”
“Just for now. There’s a lot to do. I hired an assistant a few weeks ago, though. Leslie is amazing. I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
“Then things are going well. How’s your family?”
“Everyone’s good. I don’t see my sister and nephews nearly as much as I’d like, but at least I’m not missing out on watching the boys grow up.”
“Sounds like you’re making up for lost time. Is your mom still upset you bought the condo?”
“She’s coming around. The whole drama about me not moving in is probably just an elaborate ruse to draw attention away from her secret boyfriend.”
“So the secret boyfriend thing runs in the family.”
My cheeks flush. “I didn’t... You weren’t... I mean, it’s not like...”
“It’s not like we were dating?”
“We were dating, but we weren’t...we were never really... I mean, we weren’t exactly...”
“A couple. Not officially, at least,” he offers.
I’m not sure if he’s trying to be helpful or having fun with me. “I wasn’t hiding you. It’s just that—”
“It was a fling with no hope of a future?”
I hesitate. “It was a relationship that began with a three-week expiration date hanging over it.” I grip the telephone cord and wind it around my finger. “It wasn’t just a fling—at least not for me.”
“Then you do have feelings for me.”
“Of course I do. Our time together was amazing. Our timing is awful. I was starting a new job and moving across the country. What was I supposed to do? Pass on the opportunity of a lifetime while we tried to figure it out?”
“I’ve been kicking myself for not speaking up earlier,” he says. “But we can’t change any of that. All we can do is deal with what we have right now.”
“And what do we have right now, Raine?” My spine stiffens. I place my palm on the blotter in front of me, my feet planted firmly on the floor. He’s silent, so I continue. “I like you—a lot—but you’re in San Francisco and I’m in Cleveland. So where does that leave us?”
“I don’t know,” he says after a momentary pause. The words come out in a husky whisper that seems to catch at the back of his throat. “I’ve given a lot of thought to what you’re saying. Chalking this up to a missed opportunity makes all the sense in the world. But I can’t stop thinking about you. It’s been a long time since I felt this way about someone. I can’t just dismiss these feelings—not unless you tell me you really don’t want this.”
Now it’s my turn to be silent. He’s given me my out. All I have to do is tell him I can’t deal with a long-distance relationship or that I’m too busy with work. But the reality is, I would give my Seven jeans, Stella McCartney purse and free downtown parking privileges to be in his arms right now.
“I’ve tried to put you out of my mind and just move on, but I can’t. Those were the best three weeks of my sadly failed romantic life. I’m still not sure if they were as amazing as I think or if the rest of my dating life is just a colossal fail in comparison.”
“I’m not sure whether I should say thank you or feel really insulted.” Raine laughs. “So I’ll consider it a compliment.”
“It is,” I say quickly, covering my face. “Sorry. I’m a little out of practice. Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t have a very good track record with long-term relationships.” I wind the phone cord around my finger again.
“First, I hope you don’t use this approach when you’re trying to land clients for J&G.” He laughs. I laugh, too. “Second, it takes two people to make a relationship work. You can’t make it work all by yourself. No matter how badly you want it.”
“I’m scared,” I say finally. A weight lifts off my chest. “We both have a lot on our plates right now. How do we find the time to make a long-distance relationship work?”
“I don’t know,” he admits. “But there’s no one I’d rather be with. I know that now.”
Taking a deep breath, I carefully deliberate my
next words. “I want this to work, too, but what if, at some point...”
“You meet a great guy at the coffee shop. Will you still think it’s worth it?”
I don’t respond. I hope I haven’t hurt his feelings. But the thought of missing out on Mr. Right Here while trying to make it work with Mr. Might Be Right is a viable concern. It’s just like me to meet the perfect guy while engaged in a doomed long-distance relationship.
“We’ll take things slow. See where it goes. No commitment.”
I want to explore things further with Raine, but I’m a woman over thirty whose mother is desperately trying to marry me off. I need to leave my options open. “Okay.” I release the breath I’ve been holding. “Let’s see where this takes us.”
“So does that mean you’ll stop screening my calls?”
I can’t help but laugh. “No more screening your calls.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Chapter Twelve
The first snow falls on the first Saturday in October. The ground is too warm for the fluffy white flakes to stick. A pristine blanket of snow christens cars, rooftops and barren tree branches, transforming them into a wonderland.
I lean against the window with a cup of tea in hand and take in the wondrous beauty of the first snow.
Two little boys bound out of their parked car on the street below and run ahead of their mother, catching snowflakes on their tongues. I smile, remembering how Mimi and I would stand outside in our pink snowsuits, arms wide, mouths open, catching snowflakes with our tongues.
Five years ago I jumped at the chance to move to San Francisco, partly because I was sick of broiling-hot summers and hypothermia-inducing winters. But I’ve missed the splendor and excitement of the first snow. The feeling of joy, hope and wonder it invokes momentarily negates our concerns. Complaints of subzero temperatures and nightmare commutes are suspended. With noses pressed against windows, mouths open in amused fascination, we marvel at the freshness, beauty and quiet complexity of fluffy white flakes tumbling gracefully from the heavens. Life suddenly seems shiny and bright, filled with possibility—even if we’ve experienced the first snow a hundred times before.
