Intoxicated (4 page)

Unlike the rest of the home, this room was
stark white. Sure, it was furnished with a king sized bed, two
matching nightstands and a dresser, but it lacked the warmth of any
of the other rooms. Even the half bath downstairs had more
personality. Guess that explained the bargain-basement rent.

“So far, I have been uninspired with this
space,” she began. That was pretty apparent. “I’ve lived here for
about six months or so, and I just didn’t know what to do in here.
I suppose I could have turned it into a guest room, but I really
don’t ever have any guests. So I figured I would try to rent it
out.”

She studied my features as if looking for
acceptance. I tried to turn my lips upwards into a reassuring
smile. It was better than my current apartment. The monthly rent
was a steal. I needed something furnished; I didn’t want to buy
furniture and then have to worry about moving it out when my lease
was up. It fit my needs, however bland and boring it was.

“I like it,” I said, practically choking on
my words.

She snorted. “No you don’t. But that’s okay.
Because now that you’re here, I know what I’m going to do. I’m
going to decorate it for you.”

“Really?”

“Why not? Consider it a house warming gift.
It won’t take me long, and I promise that the result will be far
more impressive than its current state.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that for me.”

“I’m offering.”

“Okay, then. I guess that means I can move
in?”

The next few days passed in a blur. I was
overwhelmed with last minute arrangements in regards to the move.
Address changes, calling the utility companies, packing away more
odds and ends until nothing remained but the clothes I needed and
my toiletries. I had conceded defeat and boxed up the remaining
kitchen supplies, opting for carry out once the fridge had been
emptied of its contents.

Blake had been in contact with me several
times. The first couple times had been strictly business. Her
lawyer had drawn up the lease. She emailed it over to me and I
signed and returned it. Once formalities were out of the way, we
chatted more like I imagined future college roommates would have. I
listed my inventory of household items; she checked off what she
already had and what we could use. From her responses I guessed
that she wasn’t much of a chef.

I didn’t want to rent a storage unit, so
anything that I wasn’t taking with me I needed to get rid of.
Gracie had first dibs. After she had rifled through my unwanted
stuff, I donated the rest. My tiny apartment had never seemed so
spacious.

Now that it was moving day, my excitement had
grown to fever pitch. Gracie and my father had insisted on coming
over to help me load the Honda. I suspected they wanted to see me
off more than anything else. I could cram the few boxes and bags I
was keeping with me into my car with little effort, but the free
labor was always appreciated.

When the doorbell buzzed, I pressed the
intercom button and announced that whoever was there should come on
up. My visitor did not respond, but I heard footsteps in the
hallway a short time after. I truly expected it to be my dad since
Gracie was rarely the first person to show up anywhere.

Instead, Eric stood before me. We hadn’t
really spoken since the argument. He had caved and sent me a few
brief texts, excusing his distance by explaining that he was
swamped at work and when he got home he was exhausted. Even though
I sympathized with his plight, I felt slighted by his lack of
consideration. He could deny that the move was happening all he
wanted to, but it still didn’t change the fact that our time in the
same city was coming to a close.

“Hi,” he said simply, bringing out two
steaming cups of coffee from behind his back, “I would have brought
flowers, but they don’t travel well.”

I accepted his peace offering eagerly. Taking
a sip of the drink, I appraised him from head to toe. Instead of
his usual suit and tie he was dressed in khakis and a polo shirt.
For him, that was slumming. Just once I wished he’d loosen up a
bit. His brown hair was cut very short; perfect for traveling and
being nondescript. His green eyes looked dull and tired.

Maybe he had been really busy. I prayed that
he was telling the truth. It wouldn’t make sense for him to
purposefully ignore me all week just to show up at my door to send
me off. Not when I hadn’t expected him to even make an appearance.
No, this was an apology in disguise. He was truly sorry.

“I’m glad you came.”

“You really think I would miss my chance to
give you a proper send-off? I mean, look at you.”

I giggled, staring down at my baggy sweats
and t-shirt. Today was about comfort. Even though I would have
plenty of help loading the car here, unloading was a different
story. Blake didn’t appear as though she was used to manual labor.
She would just have to excuse my appearance; I was on a mission
today. There was no time like the present for her to get used to me
in my natural state.

I ran my fingers through my tousled hair and
pretended to strike a pose. “Beautiful, right?”

“You are always beautiful, Lauren Marie
Jefferies.”

The words brought color to my cheeks. I set
my coffee down on the empty kitchen counter, tears blurring my
vision. Eric did the same, taking me into his arms. He brushed the
moisture off my cheeks with his thumbs then pulled me closer to
him. I buried my face in the smooth cotton of his shirt.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” I whispered,
my words muffled against his chest.

Somehow he still understood. “I’ll miss you
too.”

We stood in the middle of my apartment
silently embracing each other. Even though our history was filled
of times spent apart, being the one doing the leaving didn’t make
it any easier. I wanted to commit every part of this moment to
memory: his strong arms around me, his fingers stroking my hair,
the smell of his aftershave, his warm breath against my neck, the
steady beat of his heart. This would be what I thought of when
things seemed too difficult to bear.

“I am so proud of you, sweetheart,” he
continued. The sound of his voice echoed in his chest, under my
ear. “and I am so sorry for being selfish and wanting you to stay.
You were right. This is your turn to shine. We can make this work.
We’ll figure out the details as we go.”

I doubted he’d have had the courage to say
those things if I had been looking him in the eye. He was not one
to admit fault, ever. It was the best going away gift he could
possibly have given me.

We stood there for either seconds or an
eternity until the buzzer sounded again. I couldn’t tell. Wiping my
eyes, I pulled away and turned to the intercom. “Come on up; door’s
open.”

Both my dad and Gracie entered the apartment
shortly thereafter. They must have met in the parking lot. They
attempted to hide their shock that Eric had shown up, my dad being
far more successful than my best friend. Dad obviously was used to
the hot and cold nature of our relationship; Gracie not as much.
Dad also tolerated Eric’s outbursts far better. I was convinced it
was because I didn’t share the details of our arguments. Since
Gracie got only my side of the story, usually right after the heat
of the moment, her opinion of Eric was not the best.

“Hi, Eric,” my dad greeted.

“Doug, Gracie,” Eric responded, turning on
the salesman voice.

“Eric,” Gracie said, barely hiding her
disgust. She shot me a dirty look. My response was a shrug. She
shook her head.

“So,” I said, rubbing together my hands,
“who’s ready to move some boxes?”

Quick work was made of the task, and before I
knew it my car had been loaded and the apartment was empty of my
belongings. Even Eric had made the comment that he likely hadn’t
dressed for the job. My father had laughed heartily; Gracie
snorted.

We regrouped in the now totally
depersonalized space, perching on the tiny sofa and the kitchen
counter. To be honest, four people was about all this square
footage could handle comfortably. Gracie had stopped at her car to
grab a grocery bag and she now produced its contents. She pulled
out a fancy bottle of white grape juice and three red plastic cups.
She set to work uncorking the champagne style bottle and pouring
glasses of juice. She passed the cups out to me and my father,
keeping the last one for herself. Eric’s exclusion made the whole
thing rather awkward. Thankfully, he pretended not to care.

“I would like to propose a toast,” Gracie
announced, raising her cup, “to the best mortgage underwriter the
state of Indiana has ever seen. May she follow her dreams and help
others achieve the goal of homeownership.”

“Cheers,” we all said in unison, the three of
us with cups touching them together.

I dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“Hey,” Gracie said with mock anger, “I worked
really hard on that toast last night. No, in all seriousness, I
don’t think they could have picked a better lady for the job. You
have been one of the best coworkers and friends I could ever have
met. I already miss you terribly, and you haven’t even left
yet.”

“Thanks, hon,” I said, blushing again.

“Gracie’s right,” my father confirmed. “Your
hard work and determination got you exactly what you wanted. You’ve
been groomed for that job, and no matter how much you think it is a
surprise, everyone here saw it coming. And to be here to see that
my daughter has achieved her goals is probably one of the best
moments of my life. Your mother would be so happy for you.”

He brushed a tear from his eye, and the room
got uncomfortably quiet. My father didn’t bring up the subject of
my mother often; it pained him too much. And to mention her in
front of other people was something I had never seen him do. The
gravity of the moment hit me hard, and I blinked back my own fresh
tears.

Beside me, Eric fidgeted uncomfortably. He
kept checking his watch, and I knew he was concocting an excuse to
leave. Gracie also noticed, and her look could have shot daggers in
his direction. He cleared his throat before speaking.

“I have a plane to catch.”

Was that the truth, or just the best he could
come up with?

“Oh, okay. Let me walk you out.” I set down
my cup and excused myself, trailing behind Eric.

He stopped once we got into the hallway to
allow me to catch up. The visible tension in his body disappeared,
and he reached over to take my hand. We walked down the stairs and
out to the parking lot in silence. His BMW was parked beside the
now overflowing Honda. He stared at my car for a moment, a slow
smile spreading across his features.

“You know,” he drawled, “you could always
take your car over to my place and unload your stuff there.”

“Eric, I don’t want to fight about this
anymore.”

“I know. Just figured I would give it one
last shot. You know I’m serious, right?”

I nodded, my heart sinking. After ten years
of dating, the only way I would know he was serious was if he
produced a diamond ring out of his pocket. As often as he mentioned
giving me the world, buying me a new car and letting me shack up in
his high rise, he wasn’t yet willing to make it official. He
wouldn’t give me his commitment.

“Are you really leaving?”

“You mean was the plane an excuse to get out
of there before Gracie bit my head off? Only partially. I can tell
where I’m not wanted. But I do have to be on a flight in about
three hours. Heading down to Atlanta for a conference. Thought I
might get a few hours of entertainment in before it starts bright
and early Monday morning.”

“Oh.”

“So, I guess this is it then. Be careful
driving. I’ll call you sometime tomorrow after we both get settled
in.”

He turned away from me to open his car door,
effectively putting the glass and metal between us. Awkwardly, he
gave me a small kiss while leaning over the door frame. The gesture
would have been sufficient if I was his grandmother, but not for a
departing girlfriend. Satisfied with his attempt at showing me
affection, he lowered himself into the leather seat. The door
closed with a solid, well- engineered thud. Eric started the
ignition and the engine purred to life. The power window lowered
and I bent down to hear him better over the music that played over
his premium sound system.

“Goodbye, Lauren.”

“Bye, Eric.”

He put the car into reverse and backed out of
the space. I watched his taillights disappear from my vision as the
words I wanted him to say formed on my lips.

“I love you,” I whispered to no one in
particular.

Back upstairs, Gracie and my father were deep
in conversation about what my new bedroom would look like. I had
shared with them that Blake would be decorating it especially for
me, but that she had been very secretive about what modifications
she had made. In fact, even though we had been in contact nearly
every day since I originally saw the place, she had refused to even
give me a hint. She only promised that I would be extremely
happy.

“Unicorns?” my dad suggested.

“I think it will be rainbows,” Gracie
said.

“You guys are silly,” I said, hoping I
sounded lighthearted.

Truth be told, Eric’s abrupt departure had
been a definite mood killer. I knew that Gracie hadn’t anticipated
him being here, but I really wished that she had brought a handful
of cups instead of just bringing the exact number she thought had
been needed. That couldn’t have helped things.

“You okay?” Gracie asked.

“Yeah,” I lied. “I just better get this show
on the road. I need to take the keys back to the leasing office,
and they close at noon. No time like the present.”

Gracie and my father exchanged a knowing
glance, but didn’t press the issue. Instead, they got busy cleaning
up the small mess that they had created with the toast. The trash
was collected in the grocery bag, and everything was good to
go.