A State of Jane (8 page)

Andrew got up and returned his chair to his own desk. Before sitting down, he walked back over to me and placed his hand on my shoulder. “I don't know, Jane. Of course, he might call. I don't know this dude. I just know that when I sleep with a girl I really like, I call the next day. Shit, I sometimes send her text messages throughout the night. If I don't call right away, it's usually because I'm just not interested.”

“Oh.”

“I'm sorry, Jane. Maybe I'm wrong.”

Repeating Andrew's favorite word, I said, “Whatev.”

I barely fought back the tears on the way home. How did I get it so right with the first guy I had sex with and screw up so badly with the second? As I walked up Lexington Avenue, drizzle hit my head in a slow and steady rhythm, but I didn't care. I needed to walk it off and vowed to be in better spirits by the time I got home. Jim was a total dick who had charmed me into bed with his phony romantic act. Sure I had fallen for it, but that wasn't the point. No, he was to blame and I could do
so
much better. He wasn't even good in bed! Although I didn't really remember, I was positive he sucked in bed. Nope, he wasn't the one for me.

The rain picked up intensity, so I ran the remaining three blocks home. As promised, I felt better as I climbed the stairs to my apartment. Not fantastic, but better.

C
HAPTER
14

The following Saturday night, I was sitting at my parent's favorite Italian restaurant celebrating their anniversary, along with Claire and Kevin. I had just taken the last stuffed mushroom from the hot antipasto appetizer when Claire clinked her knife against her full wine glass. “I'd like to make a toast, if you guys don't mind.”

We all turned our attention away from our food and toward Claire.

My mom laughed. “I'm having déjà vu. Remember the speech you made at your father's fiftieth birthday party? We thought it was going to be how lucky you were to have such a great father and instead you told us you were engaged. Way to steal our thunder!”

Turning red, Claire released Kevin's hand and said, “Umm. Well, I
do
feel lucky to have such a great father.” Looking at my mom, she said, “
And
a great mother too. Together you've set a great example for me of what a good marriage should look like and I hope you'll be at our dinner table when Kevin and I celebrate our thirty-third wedding anniversary.”

Raising his glass to his mouth, my dad said, “I'll drink to that.”

“Me too!” said Kevin.

“I'm not finished yet!” Claire said.

“Keep going dear. I'm liking it so far,” my mom said.

Suddenly feeling sentimental, I glanced over at my smiling parents and back toward Claire, who was beaming. I took another sip of wine and said, “Me too!”

Claire paused dramatically. “You've also been great role models for a mommy and daddy and your example is finally going to be put to good use.” Claire stopped talking and looked at us as if to make certain we were paying attention before saying anything else.

Finally, she pushed her untouched wine to the side, raised her glass of water and squealed, “We're having a baby!”

My mother instantly bolted out of her chair and jumped up and down in a display of giddiness I had not witnessed since our Memorial Day picnic of 2000, when she was reunited with her best friend Barbara from college for the first time in twenty years, drank three frozen margaritas, and jumped in the pool with her clothes on.

She shouted “Hooray!” before dashing over to Claire's seat on the other side of the table. By then Claire was also jumping up and down and when my mom got to her, they embraced in a bear hug while rocking back and forth. Equally enthusiastic was my father who took hold of my elbow and do-si-do-ed me until I was dizzy and laughing tears of joy. As my dad spun me around, I caught a faint glimpse of Kevin grinning and shaking his head at our very rare display of public silliness. Finally, Claire and my mom noticed that Kevin was not an active participant in the celebration and took him into their embrace.

Thirty minutes later, we had regained our composure and were sitting quietly at the table talking in a much more socially acceptable tone. My dad had ordered a bottle of champagne, a glass of sparkling cider for Claire, and a family style portion of tiramisu.

My mom clinked her fork against her glass and said, “Hush everyone. It's Mom's turn to make a toast.”

I had switched seats with Kevin so I could congratulate my sister. She had just apologized for not telling me sooner and I was about to tell her that no apologies were necessary but when my mom demanded our attention, I turned away from Claire and waited for my mom to continue. I could tell she was tipsy because her face was flushed and she hadn't bothered to smooth back the hair that had gone a bit wild from dancing around the table.

“I just want to say that while I hate sharing the spotlight on my special day, even with my own flesh and blood, I'll gladly make an exception this time. I am so excited to be the hottest grandma on the block…”

Before she could finish, my dad piped in, “Hear hear!”

My mom waved her hands at my dad, shooing him away, and kept talking. “And since the happiness of both of my daughters is important, I will be equally excited to be the mother of the bride once again when my beautiful daughter Jane finally ties the knot.” Smiling brightly at me, she said, “Jim perhaps?”

With all of the festivity, I had actually put Jim out of my mind. But with a few simple words from my mom, there he was. I released a chuckle when my dad muttered, “Not until she makes partner” and I faked a smile when Kevin whispered, “Just don't be a bridezilla like your big sis.”

Realizing that no one even noticed I had not actually responded to my mom's comment, I took a spoonful of tiramisu as a tear dropped down my cheek. When I looked up from my plate, Claire was looking at me with a furrowed brow. “Come with me to the bathroom, Jane?”

I nodded, “yes” to Claire and followed her to the bathroom, torn between the need to release pent up despair over being blown off by another guy and guilt for potentially ruining one of the happiest nights of her life.

The bathroom appeared to be empty and after bending down to check the stalls for pairs of feet, Claire leaned against the sink and said, “Spill.”

“I'm sorry, Claire. I don't want to ruin your night!”

“Stop it, Jane. I'll still be pregnant tomorrow. Besides, seeing you cry makes me upset whether you like it or not.”

I stared at my reflection in the mirror. Looking at myself, I couldn't figure out what I lacked to keep a guy's attention. I had nice wavy hair that glowed blonde in the sun. I didn't even need to pay for highlights! I had big brown eyes with speckles of green and orange. Bob used to say he could get lost in them.
Amber. Damn that Randall!
Sure, I could stand to lose five pounds, but women much more voluptuous than I had boyfriends.

I was still pondering my invisible anti-boyfriend gene when I noticed Claire staring at me.

“Well?” she asked.

“It's Jim.”

“I gathered as much. What happened?”

I told her what happened.

“Was the sex good at least?”

I was so over that question already. “No! It sucked.”

“Really? Then good riddance!”

Scanning the room to avoid eye contact, I said, “I don't know if it was that bad, actually. I was kind of drunk.”

Her eyes widening, Claire said, “You? You never get that drunk!”

“I made an exception. I was terrified!”

Claire started laughing. “Terrified of what?”

Shaking my head, I said, “I don't know. Being awkward and uncomfortable?”

“So instead you got sloppy drunk? I'm sure you were graceful like a ballerina, little sister.”

I brushed the top of my hand against my lips to stop biting them again. “I vaguely recall giving him a strip tease.”

“You gave him a ….” Claire started laughing and repeated, “You gave him a …. strip-tease? Ha ha!” Shaking and holding her stomach, she continued to laugh. “Priceless!”

“Shut up!” If the tables had been turned, I knew I'd be much more supportive and at least wait until Claire left the room to laugh my ass off at her expense.

Tears streaming down her cheeks, Claire continued to clutch her stomach.

“It's not that funny,” I insisted. “Really, it's not … ” Feeling my mouth start to quiver, I placed both hands on my hips and gave Claire my most serious lips-pursed expression to avoid laughing. But as my own body began to spasm, I lost the stubborn grip I had on my facial expression and soon we were both keeled over in hysterics.

When I finally regained control of my vocal chords, I punched Claire in the arm, “Why didn't you tell me dating was this hard!”

“I did, little sis! I did,” Claire said, a fat tear of laughter still lodged in the corner of her left eye.

Conceding, I said, “I suppose you did.”

Finally serious, Claire said, “I'm sorry you found yourself another asshole, Jane. But at least you learned a lesson, right?”

“What? Don't expect a guy to call after sex?”

Claire shook her head.

Maybe there was a bright side after all. “What?”

“If you don't want a guy to call, just give him a strip-tease. So far it's got a hundred percent success rate.”

No longer laughing, I said, “Not funny, Claire.”

“Just kidding.” Claire kissed me on the cheek. “It will be OK. I promise. And besides, you're gonna be an aunt!”

Smiling, I draped my arm around Claire, put my head on her shoulder and said, “Best news I've heard all year.”

C
HAPTER
15

I glanced at my watch and hoped that Cory would get there soon. He had sent me a text twenty minutes earlier that he was leaving his office in five minutes.

“I can't wait to meet your man, Jane!” Marissa said.

“Yes, we'll try not to embarrass you too much,” Lainie said. “But, if we
do
embarrass you and he still calls tomorrow, you'll know you've finally found a good one!”

I hadn't planned on asking Cory to meet my friends so soon but when I told him that Katherine had bailed on our reservation at a new sushi restaurant downtown, he offered to take her place. “Just don't bring up sex, OK?”

“I would never!” Marissa said.

Motioning toward Lainie, I said, “I was referring to her.”

Her lips on the edge of an overflowing apple martini, Lainie took a sip and carefully put the glass down. Feigning innocence, she asked, “Who me?”

“Yes you!” I said.

“Couldn't be!”

Laughing Marissa said, “Then who?”

Just then, I felt a hand on each of my shoulders and, startled, turned around and saw a smiling freckle-faced Cory. “Hi there!” Touching the seat next to me, I said, “Sit.”

Cory kissed me on the cheek before sitting down and saying, “Hi” to the girls. After brief introductions, we each looked at the menu. Cory gently placed his hand over mine and asked, “You guys want to share a bunch of rolls?”

Looking up from her menu, Marissa said, “Sounds good to me.”

“Me too,” said Lainie.

Squeezing his hand, I said, “Me three,” and smiled at him.

When I had met Cory at a house party thrown by one of Kevin's friends a week after my parents' anniversary party, I reluctantly gave him my phone number. I was hesitant to go out with him, not because I didn't find him attractive in a cute Richie Cunningham sort of way, but because I was afraid he'd be like Randall and Jim. But we had fun on our first date to Dave & Buster's and so when he asked me out for Mexican food later that week, I agreed. And when he asked if I was up for a third date, I said yes again.

But I was determined not to get caught up in any rules like having sex on a third date. I decided I would have sex with him when and only when I was ready – as it should be. When I wasn't ready on our third date, it wasn't even an issue. After dinner and a stroll through the park, Cory walked me home, kissed me goodnight and went on his way. And he called me the very next day. On our fourth date, we ordered in Chinese and watched a movie at his apartment. When the kissing got heated and Cory's hand roamed to the button of my jeans, I calmly brushed it away and told him I wasn't ready yet. He said he was in no hurry, but when he put me in a cab later that night, I was certain I'd never hear from him again. Then he called the next day. We were now on our fifth date, he was meeting my girlfriends, and he hadn't seen me naked yet. I really liked him. Unlike Randall, he wasn't “Rico Suave,” but he didn't act all googly-eyed and mushy like Jim either. Like Goldilocks searching for her perfect bowl of porridge, I was looking for the guy who was just right and thought I might have found him in Cory.

Admiring the way he took charge and placed our order with the waiter, I felt butterflies and wondered if he might actually be the one.

About an hour later, I eyed the last piece of shrimp sashimi, hoping no one would take it.

“It's yours,” Cory said.

I looked at Cory who was pointing at the piece of shrimp and asked, “How'd you know?”

Cory shrugged. “I had a feeling.”

I placed my hand on his thigh and squeezed. “You must be psychic!”

Cory nodded, his face serious. “Yup. I also know that you're going to skip the green tea ice cream on the menu and pick up mint chocolate chip on the way home.”

Smiling, I said, “Yum. I hadn't even thought about it but, yes, that sounds amazing. I guess you really
are
psychic.”

Interrupting our goofy exchange of grins, a drunk Lainie handed me the check. “How much tip should we leave?”

Grabbing the check out of my hand, Cory said, “I'll take care of it.”

“Really?” I asked.

Marissa argued, “That's not necessary!”

Returning her wallet to her pocketbook, Lainie said, “Thanks, Cory! You're the man!”

Laughing, Cory shook his head and said, “Yes. I am the man!”

Outside a few minutes later, Cory hailed down cabs for us.

“I'm gonna take the subway,” Lainie said. “Coming, Jane?”

I looked from Lainie to Cory and back again to Lainie. “No. I'm going to go back with Cory.” I turned shyly to him. “Assuming you want me to.”