Up & Out - Ariella Papa [19]
“You’ve got cute feet,” he says. Finally, I am clear on what he’s saying. The new sandals are killing me, and I’ve taken my shoes off. If the room wasn’t lit by candlelight, he would see the red welts that were forming on my feet.
“Thanks,” I say. I get up off the couch and go to look at the pictures on the mantel of his nonworking fireplace. He has a nice place. My apartment still looks like a college pad, with all the hand-me-downs that I have had for years. He has new furniture that he picked out himself. His decorating has a theme.
“Those are my grandparents,” he says, coming behind me, close. I am holding an old-fashioned black-and-white picture of a couple. “In Ireland.”
“Oh. Is this Ireland?” I point to one of his many landscape pictures.
“No,” he laughs. “That’s Chianti, from last spring. You would love it there this time of year.”
“Oh.” I move a bit away from him to the window, which looks out onto Barrow Street. Jen lives on Barrow. “You know, I think this woman I work with lives on this block. She might even live in this building.”
“Amazing.” He follows me to the window and rubs my back. It feels good, but I’m still not sure what I want. I shouldn’t have come back with him. I stiffen. He senses it and takes my glass. “I’ll get you more wine.”
“Are you trying to get me drunk?” I ask when he is far enough away.
“A little.” He sits back on the couch and holds my glass out. I join him, leaving some space between us. “So what are your plans for tomorrow?”
“I have to go bridesmaid shopping with my friends.”
“Oh,” he raises his eyebrow. “Are you all up and getting married?”
“It seems that way. I mean, I don’t want to get married. My roommate is actually already divorced. This is for my friend Kathy. I’m dreading it—we’ve looked at so many dresses already. It’s such a racket. And my friend Beth is going and she’s been such a pain in the ass lately. I used to date her brother and now—” I am babbling. Why am I bringing Tommy into this? I’m going to ruin everything.
“Weird,” he adds.
“Yeah. Everything’s been weird.”
“What do you mean?” The wine was definitely affecting me. I feel something, stoned, I don’t know. I’m not sure I want to even think about this, much less talk about it, but now it is too late. If I don’t talk, I’ll probably do something stupid, like give him a blow job.
“My friends, it’s just like we can’t connect.” I stare at my hands. Lauryn and I did have fun getting our nails done today, but when was the last time that happened? “We were so close and now it’s like, Lauryn’s moving away, Beth’s got an attitude and Kathy—I swear it’s like she’s trying so hard at what should be natural. It’s fucked.”
“Well, what are you, twenty-five?”
“Twenty-seven, thanks.”
“I think things get weird with friends when everyone starts getting married. Then you wind up having less and less in common and the people you see more are the ones you work with. You’ve still got your good friends, but you find it’s harder to plan shit with them, but you get used to it.”
“I’m not sure I want to. I like them. They’re my girls.”
“Your backup.”
“Yeah, they got my back.” We smile at each other. For the first time, I feel like he is listening. “So, how did you get to be so wise? What are you, twenty-eight?”
“Thirty-one, thanks. So this guy, this brother of the friend, when did that end?” I shake my head. I can hear Kathy telling me that whatever I do, I am not to talk about an ex.
“It ended a while ago. I would say a year, but officially six months.” He doesn’t need to know about all the relapses.
“So, you’re over him?”
“Yeah.” Granted, I thought I was many times before, but he doesn’t need to know about that, either. Does he?
“Good.” He takes the wineglass out of my hand and sets it on the coffee table.