Just Watch the Fireworks

by Monica Alexander

  “How do you like BC?” I asked, forcing myself to talk about something to keep my mind off of his sexy hair.

  Even before we’d broken up, Beckett had plans to go to BC for grad school. I knew it had always been his dream to go to college there, but he’d insisted on following me to UMass for undergrad. His dad tried to talk him into BU, but Beckett had wanted to pave his own way. He wanted any accolades he received to be based on his contributions and not his familial connections.

  He smiled as he said, “BC is great. I have season tickets for football, so that’s cool, plus the staff’s great. I’m hoping to get a teaching position there after I finish by PhD, but that won’t be for at least four years.”

  Our conversation flowed easily for the rest of the meal. He didn’t make any more references that made me question his intentions, which led me to believe I was probably imagining things before. When the waitress brought the bill, Beckett whipped out his credit card faster than I could and told her to put both meals on it. I told him he didn’t have to, but he insisted it was his treat since he’d invited me.

  After breakfast, we walked down Comm Ave. to the Fenway T Station and sat together on a bench inside waiting for a train to come by. He asked me if I wanted to go running the next day, and I told him I’d have to let him know. Since Ryan and I had plans that night, I’d probably be spending the night at his place, so I didn’t want to promise I could meet Beckett when I didn’t know if I could.

  “Does Ryan travel a lot for his job?” Beckett asked then.

  I shook my head. “No, this is a recent development. He hasn’t traveled much before, but this client requested him specifically. He’s been gone for a few days, so I’m excited to see him tonight. I have this rehearsal dinner to set up, but I’m meeting him afterward.”

  Beckett just nodded, and I wondered how uncomfortable it really was for him to hear about Ryan. I felt guilty telling him that I was excited to see Ryan, but something told me I needed to make sure the lines of friendship were drawn extra think until I was sure of Beckett’s intentions.

  Beckett told me to text him if I was available the next day to go running. I figured he didn’t want to explore Ryan and my relationship any longer. I couldn’t blame him. Since I didn’t have my phone on me, I gave him my number, and he said he would text me so I would have his number. He was just putting his cell phone back in his pocket when we heard one of the trains pulling into the station. Instinctively, we both looked toward the sound of the train and stood when we could see the headlights. When we boarded, we found that there was standing room only, so we had to share a pole.

  We were on the Green line which is made up of two trolley style cars that are linked together. The line swerves and jiggles its passengers much more than any of the others. I had to hold on tight, so I didn’t careen into the older man sitting to my right. Beckett rested his hand lightly on my hip to steady me after the first time I faltered. I felt a light twinge in my stomach at the contact, but dismissed it. He was just being polite. At the Arlington Street stop, he got off, hugging me goodbye before he stepping off the train. I continued on to the Science Park stop, and the whole way I could smell his cologne lingering on my shirt. I wondered how Ryan would feel about another guy’s cologne sticking to my clothing and figured it would probably be best if I did a load of laundry that afternoon.

  Ten

  “Hi, Mrs. Friedman,” I said, greeting the small Jewish woman when she walked into the restaurant.

  “Courtney,” she said, pronouncing my name with a thick Brooklyn accent. “Everything looks wonderful, but I see that the tapers are missing from the tables.”

  I smiled warmly at her. “George is getting them now,” I said, gesturing to the tiny Italian man who was scurrying around setting tall white tapers on the six tables in their private room. “Why don’t you have a glass of wine?”

  I handed her a glass of the house red that was stationed on a serving tray behind me as I started to brief her on the night. I found the groom’s mother, Marilyn Friedman, much more pleasant than her future in-law. I feared that at any moment Mrs. Scarletti would burst into the room barking orders, but this was not her event.

  “Okay, so at seven, the servers will start circling the anteroom with the appetizers and glasses of wine. The bar will also be open if anyone would like a cocktail. The red napkins with ‘Bianca & Evan’ will be underneath every glass that is served. The music playing will be classical and soft enough for people to talk.”

  Mrs. Friedman nodded as she took a small sip of wine. I took her silence as my cue to continue. We’d already reviewed the details earlier in the week, but I found clients liked to be reassured that their event would run smooth, so I always took the time to brief them twice.

  “Then, at eight on the dot, the doors to the private dining room will be opened and the guests will be able to enter.”

  I continued on with the details until she was satisfied that everything was under control. When the guests arrived, I took extra care in greeting the Scarletti women and telling them how beautiful they both looked. Bianca had a perpetual scowl on her face, and I felt instantly bad for Evan Friedman who hung on her every word and doted on her every need. Maybe they were perfect together.

  I stayed at the restaurant until just after the dinner was served, checked that the tiramisu was perfect and made my exit. George assured me that everything was under control. He was a proud man, and I knew he wouldn’t let anything fall through the cracks. Plus, at that point Mrs. Scarletti was drunk and happy, so I didn’t think there would be any major catastrophes. I said goodbye to Mrs. Friedman and told her I would see her at the wedding the next day. She thanked me for everything before heading back to her guests, and I was out the door and in a cab to Ryan as fast as I could get to him.

  As soon as I stepped onto the curb, I saw Ryan waiting by the entrance to the restaurant. I flung my arms around his neck and kissed him. I hadn’t realized how much I’d really missed him until he was standing in front of me again.

  “Hi,” he said, disentangling himself from me. “You missed me, huh?”

  I nodded. “You’re not allowed to go away on business anymore, okay?”

  He just smiled, then took my hand and led me inside, not loving my overt display of affection.

  “How was San Francisco?” I asked, as we settled into our outside table. “Did you eat at fabulous restaurants and hang out with fabulous people?”

  He laughed. “Sort of. It was really more business than anything else. We pretty much worked late and ordered in.”

  “So you didn’t get to see any of the city?”

  He hesitated, before saying, “No, but there’ll be plenty of time for that.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I have some good news,” he said, and I could hear that he was hesitant to tell me his apparent good news.

  I didn’t say anything. I just waited for him to continue. I wasn’t sure I would share his sentiments about his news being good especially if it meant him spending more time in San Francisco. He’d better not be moving there.

  “Well, the client was so impressed that they want Melinda and me to work out of that office on semi-permanent basis,” he said slowly, gauging my reaction.

  “You’re moving?” I asked, confused by how that news was in any way good.

  “No, no,” he said, quickly. “It’s just for the summer. They’re working on some projects that are pretty involved, and they’ll need us to be there on a regular basis. It’s only until the beginning of September.”

  September was almost three months away. I’d just moved to Boston, and now Ryan was leaving? Was the deck really that stacked against us that we couldn’t even live in the same city? He seemed so eager about the prospect of this assignment that I tried to feign excitement. I didn’t want him to think I wasn’t supportive.

  “Really? Wow Ryan, that’s great. I’m really excited for you.”

  I tried, but I coul
dn’t muster the level of elation that I knew he was looking for. He took my hand across the table.

  “It’s okay Court, really. I’ll come back as much as I can,” he said, sensing my unrest.

  I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. We’d just gotten to the same city, and now he was leaving.

  “Be excited for us,” he said, elevating his voice slightly. “This is all about us now. Everything I do at work is for our future together.”

  My stomach jumped at his statement, as my mind flew to thoughts of us living in a mansion and me staying home with four kids while he worked. I knew we had to discuss the kid issue soon, but I was too scared to bring it up, especially since he probably wouldn’t be ecstatic at my opinion on the subject.

  “You’re not thrilled about this,” he said, sensing my change in mood, but attributing it to the wrong emotion.

  I shook my head, and then smiled. “No, it’s not that. It’s just hard to wrap my head around the idea of you being gone again. I’m really happy for you – for us – but, I’m sad at the same time.”

  “It’s only three months – less than that really, and you’ll be so busy with work that you won’t even notice I’m not here. You’ll even have time to start that book that you keep talking about writing. It’ll be a good thing, and this is such a big opportunity for me. If I do well, then they’ll consider me for a promotion which would mean I’d be back here permanently.”

  “Really?” I asked, brightening a little.

  I couldn’t think of anything I liked better than him being in Boston full time. It was only three months. I could handle it. I’d already been used to us living apart. What was three more months? We could still talk every day.

  “Really,” he said. “I’ll be back in no time.”

  He was right. It wouldn’t be that bad. I could handle it.

  “Well, you have my support,” I said, hoping he knew I was being sincere.

  “Thank you,” he said, as he squeezed my hand. He let it go then and moved his hand back to his side of the table. “It really won’t be that bad.”

  “I know,” I said, and figured he was probably right. What could really happen in three months? “Do you have to go back on Monday?”

  I hoped not. That would be too soon. I needed some time for the idea to sink in. I didn’t want him to leave already.

  “No, I’ll be here this week, but after that I’m in San Francisco for three months.”

  I nodded. I had a week. I could live with that. At least I had a week.

  “So,” he said, changing the subject. “Tell me all about that party you went to last night. I got your message and would be happy to kick that Bennett guy’s ass. What did he do, exactly?”

  I instantly felt bad about leaving him that message. Now that Beckett and I seemed to be on good terms, it felt wrong. Plus, Ryan would now think he was asshole. Not that I wanted them to be friends, but still.

  “Beckett,” I corrected him.

  “Whatever.” Ryan dismissed his mistake with his hand.

  It irritated me that he didn’t care if he mispronounced Beckett’s name. Sure, it wasn’t a run-of-the-mill name, but Beckett had been named after his Irish grandfather. He was proud of his name. I thought about saying something to Ryan but figured it probably wasn’t the best idea.

  “Yeah, so I ran into him, and he was a jerk at first, but then we talked and he seemed cool,” I said, being purposefully vague. “I haven’t seen him in years, so we got to catch up.”

  He raised his eyebrow at me. “What are you guys friends now?” he asked, and there was just a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

  “Sure,” I said, dismissing his concern and changing the subject. “Oh, my God! I forgot to tell you, Patrick and Summer got engaged!”

  “Really? That’s great. Tell Summer congratulations when you see her.” Ryan said, but his voice was devoid of emotion.

  I nodded excitedly, trying to get him into the mode of talking about something other than my friendship with Beckett. “Oh, hon, it was so cute. You should have seen her face. She was totally shocked. He stood up in front of everyone, on top of a picnic table, I might add, and asked her to marry him. It was great.”

  I was suddenly struck with the knowledge that I was really happy for Summer and truly thought her proposal was adorable. I was actually more excited for her than for me which was problematic.

  Ryan made a face that said he didn’t share my sentiments. “A picnic table? In front of everyone?”

  “Yeah, well, it wouldn’t be my first choice, but Summer loved it. You know them. They’re not very formal. Personally, I thought your way was much more romantic, and special,” I added, faking the joy again.

  Especially since it was the second time someone had asked me to marry them in that exact spot! So special.

  Okay, that was bitchy.

  “Wait, rewind a second,” Ryan said, and I knew I wasn’t getting out unscathed. “You said you’re friends with your ex now?”

  “Yeah. I haven’t seen him in years, so it was good to catch up. You know, see what he’s been up to and show off what I’ve been up to.” I raised my left hand slightly, indicating that I had been up front with Beckett about being engaged.

  I took a breath and realized my voice was a few decibels higher than normal, and I was speaking fast. Ryan didn’t say anything. He just stared at me, stone-faced.

  “Yeah, so, we talked for a bit, and then he went off to talk to some friends, so I hung out with Kate and Summer and some other people. Then at the end of the night, we talked some more, you know, just catching up on each other’s lives. We shared a cab. He actually lives in Beacon Hill, so it was right close by to my apartment. Then, today, we went running together.”

  He narrowed his eyes, sat back and crossed his arms. “You hung out with him?”

  He sounded pissed, so I was instantly glad I left out the part about breakfast.

  “Yeah,” I said dismissing it with my hand in an effort keep the mood light. “It was totally casual.”

  “You hung out with your ex-boyfriend today?” Ryan questioned, his voice cold and harsh.

  This was exactly why I didn’t want to tell him. He was completely reading into the situation. I tried to appease him, and at the same time, let him know that there wasn’t anything between Beckett and me, so he shouldn’t waste his time imagining things that weren’t there.

  “Ryan, it’s really no big deal,” I reasoned. “You know I don’t like to run alone, and you never want to go with me, so I figured it would be good to have a running partner. I didn’t think it would bother you.”

  “Well, it does,” he said, his eyes flashing.

  He was pissed. I hadn’t seen him this mad since the time I’d packed my keys in my suitcase and the airline lost our luggage when we’d been coming home from a ski trip. What were the odds that the one time I put them in my suitcase and not my carry-on that our luggage would actually get lost – apparently they were pretty high. Since my spare keys were two hours away in Amherst, we’d stayed in a hotel that night and our luggage was delivered the next day. Ryan and I both missed classes, since we were a day late getting back to school, and he was not happy with me.

  “Why?” I asked, not understanding why he was so upset.

  I knew in that moment that it was a good thing Ryan didn’t know Beckett had proposed. That knowledge probably would have made things worse for me.

  “Because he’s your ex-boyfriend. What other reason does there have to be?”

  “Ryan, we broke up over two years ago. I’m with you. I love you,” I said, putting my hand on my heart. “I have no feelings for him, and he has no feelings for me. You have to know that.”

  His expression softened a bit, but his eyes still looked skeptical. “Do you know that he doesn’t have feelings for you? I mean, do you know for sure?”

  “He said he doesn’t, and besides, even if he did, I don’t feel anything for him. You have to understand. We were best friends before we st
arted dating, then he continued to be my best friend for the next four years. I miss his friendship, but I don’t miss anything else. Don’t you feel that way about people you’ve dated? What about Erin?”

  “Nope,” he said flatly, but he didn’t elaborate, and I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed that I’d brought up his college girlfriend.

  “This is different. Now that I’m living in Boston, I’m probably going to see him more, as are you, since we’ll be going to places where he will undoubtedly be. Boston is a small city, and since he’s friends with Patrick and Summer, he’ll be around. I can’t just ignore him.”

  “You don’t have to be his friend either.”

  “No, I don’t, but I want to be. Do you not trust me?” I asked, suddenly angry.

  He looked agitated. “Of course, I trust you. I just don’t trust him.”

  This was not the way this conversation was supposed to go.

  “Why? He broke up with me,” I snapped. “He obviously didn’t want to be together anymore.”

  Okay, that was a slight stretch of the truth, but I couldn’t very well tell Ryan the whole story. This was a much safer version.

  “Come on Courtney, how often do you meet a guy and girl who are just friends?”

  I clenched my teeth in an effort to not say something I would regret. I wanted to ask him about Melinda. They were friends. Was that something I should be concerned about? I hadn’t thought so, but now I wasn’t so sure. Although, if I mentioned her I’d probably say something that would end up pissing him off more. He was always so touchy about me not liking her.

  “Seriously, Ryan! How many guy friends have I had over the years? Tons. Did I want to sleep with them? No. You’re being ridiculous. Maybe you can give me just a tiny ounce of credit.”

  I pinched my fingers so they were almost touching in an effort to give him a visual of what a tiny ounce looked like. Then I leaned back, folded my arms and glared at him. He stared at me and shook his head.