Settling Up (13 page)

“
W
hat
?” I blinked. “Why — what?” I swallowed, wondering if I was dreaming. Could I pinch myself without being too obvious?

Adrian’s eyes flicked toward me while keeping his eyes on the road. “I’m a professional man. I’m a man who takes pride in being open-minded. I’m also a man who does not want to have to share my girlfriend with some other man.” He put his hands up. “We have so much in common. You’re my perfect girl… except for the fact that you come with him.”

“But…” I stammered, a little flustered still about his request. I said, “Mack’s just a friend. He knows all of my worst moments, my flaws, he’s who I go to when I need to vent.” I scratched at my temple, knowing that those things probably weren’t doing much to change Adrian’s mind. “You have guy friends, right?”

Adrian nodded, he’d told me about his friends from California and had even made some good contacts up here already at the university and out on the golf course he frequented.

“Mack is the same as them for me. I’m not a typical girl. I don’t know how to have girl friends, other than my sister, and Mack’s sister.” There was a high-pitched pleading tone to my words that I hated. I hated the fact that I was using it. I hated the fact that Adrian was doubting my loyalty to him. I hated this ultimatum.

But most of all, I hated the fact that (for just a split second) I wondered if Adrian was right. Were Mack and I more than normal friends? The fact that I had very little anecdotal experience in this area only proved Adrian a better judge of the situation. Who was I to say what was a normal friendship? I’d only had a handful of friends in my life so far. I mean, I suppose Bets and I were uncommonly close sisters (Betsy often brought up the fact that other sisters did not leave ten minute messages on each other’s voice mails when they couldn’t reach each other, even though she continued to do it to me). Maybe all of my relationships were inappropriate, skewed versions of what they were supposed to be.

“Is he just a friend, Lauren?” Adrian shook his head. “I don’t want to have to share you with another man. I want you to come to me when you need to vent. I want you to talk to me about your worst, most embarrassing moments.” He picked up my hand gently in his.

My stomach rolled at the thought that I had known Adrian for almost a month at that point and I had yet to tell him anything about my hair. Sure, I still thought about it when I was around him (it wasn’t like I’d completely forgotten about it because I was wrapped-up-in-bliss forgetful). And sure I fiddled with it and made sure my comb-over was always impeccable. But tell him about it? Show the spots (even if they were in the process of filling back in) to him? No way. This man was supposed to find me attractive, seductive, beautiful, not some decrepit, patchy old thing.

I smiled at Adrian, but it was more a response out of habit than a sign of any actual happiness. Because even though Adrian was saying very sweet things, even though he wanted to be with me and only me, even though this was what I should want, my heart felt like it was breaking, my stomach rolled, and my brain thumped uncomfortably in my skull.

Adrian wrapped his hand around mine and said, “Take some time to think about it. I know it’s a difficult decision. I wish it wasn’t, but I understand.” His fingers let go and he turned his attention completely to driving me home.

I
got
in my car after waving Adrian off, not even heading inside my building, and pulled out my phone. I opened a text to Betsy.

Me: Crisis. Absolute crisis mode. Level 10. Code red. Can I come to you? Sorry it’s late.

I squinted at the clock on the dashboard. 10:00 pm. Betsy must already be in bed. I felt bad, but needed to talk, needed to process this with someone. Normally, I would’ve been able to call Mack if I thought Betsy was busy or if it wasn’t a great time. But, in this situation…

I waited in the dark silence of the car, feeling as if my whole world had gone from sunshine and rainbows one second to deep, dark, and sad in the very next. My phone buzzed.

Bets: No. I’m coming to you.

I breathed a sigh of relief and slogged my conflicted self into my condo, falling face down on the couch, unsure if I wanted to cry or throw up.

What could’ve been minutes or hours later, I heard the latch click as Betsy entered.

“Hey. What’s up?” She plopped herself on the couch next to me.

I peeled my face from the cushion, my face droopy with despair.

“Adrian met Mack tonight.”

Betsy’s eyebrows furrowed together. “And?”

“He said he wants me to stop being friends with him, that he doesn’t like me having a guy best friend.”

“Second best friend,” Betsy crossed her arms. “Unfortunately, that doesn’t surprise me. I don’t know many guys who’d be okay with their girlfriend being so buddy buddy with a hunk like Mack.” She put her hands up in her “sorry, but that’s the truth” sort of way.

I frowned at her, wanting to protest, wanting to say that she was wrong, but knowing she wasn’t.

“This is what I get for thinking how well everything was going in my life. It was too good to be true, having a friend like Mack and a boyfriend like Adrian.”

Betsy nodded. “It kinda was, honey. You have to think of it from the guy’s perspective. What if Adrian had a gorgeous best friend who was a girl?”

I pursed my lips together and nodded. “Okay, I might feel a little threatened by that.” I held my thumb and pointer finger about an inch apart. “Just a little, though.”

“So whatcha gonna do?” Betsy asked as I sat up and flopped my head back into the couch.

“I guess when you put it that way, I have to tell Mack I can’t see him anymore. I mean, Adrian is my perfect guy. I can’t throw that away.” I shook my head.

Betsy bit her lip and watched me. “Lauren, I’m only going to say this once. Sure Adrian meets your list, but I feel like he’s not your perfect guy.”

I cocked my head, not understanding. “What?”

“Well, who is it that you’ve been laughing with? Who do you go to when you’re having a bad day and you need a pick-me-up? Who calms you down more than anyone else? Who knows you almost as well as I do in just a short few months?”

“Mack.” The word felt small and huge all at the same time.

“Right. Are you sure you want to give Mack up for Adrian?”

I shook my head. “No. But Adrian could love me like I’m looking for someone to love me. Mack can’t, Bets. He’s always going to love Tess the most. Because of that, Mack and I have to stay friends. And am I really going to give up on my dream of getting married just to be friends with someone forever? And if Adrian is right, the next guy is probably going to have a problem with Mack, too. It’s just a matter of time before I have to say goodbye. It might as well be now.”

Betsy listened and nodded her head slowly.

My stomach flopped. “Thanks for coming over. I really appreciate it. You want to stay over?”

She stood, shaking her head. “No thanks. I’m good. You need to get some good rest tonight. You’ve got some hard things to do tomorrow.” She planted a kiss on the top of my head and padded out the door, letting it close softly behind her.

I sat in silence, in the dark, for a good while. And must’ve fallen asleep on the couch because when I woke, sunlight was peeking in through the curtains and it was the next day.

The day I was going to have to break up with Mack.

I
stuffed
a huge handful of popcorn into my mouth and watched Mack out of the corner of my eye as the credits rolled, signifying the end of our Friday night film. Our last film night. Our last of everything, actually.

“Okay. What’s up?” His voice was low and his words stretched out long.

I turned to look at him. “Huh?” I’m a terrible liar.

Mack tipped his head to the side. “Laur, you’re a terrible liar. You’ve been fidgety as hell all night and I’ve never seen you eat so much popcorn.” He indicated to the large bowl between us that now only contained a few stray pieces and un-popped kernels, of which I had eaten eighty percent.

This was it. I had to do it. I clamped my hand over his and closed my eyes.

“Mack, I have to tell you something.”

I could feel his body tense next to me and I think I heard his breath catch in his throat (or that could’ve been mine).

“Well, okay. I’ve kinda had something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about, too. You go first.”

I wanted to keep my eyes closed, but I knew I would never forgive myself for chickening out like that, so I cracked one open at a time until I was looking straight into his steel blue ones.

“Adrian told me that he doesn’t want me to see you anymore.” I bit my lip, wishing I could take the words back, wishing this wasn’t happening, and really wishing I didn’t have to watch Mack’s face tighten, fall, and flatten in front of me.

He cleared his throat. “Oh. I — I guess…”

I attached myself to his arm. “I don’t want to Mack. I love having you as a friend. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. But Adrian is my future and I guess that I would feel kind of weird if the situation were reversed, so I feel like I have to be sensitive to his needs. I think we can still be friends, just maybe not hang out as much as we have been.”

Mack ran a hand up and down his face, blinking and continuing a small shake of his head. “Sorry. I guess it shouldn’t be a surprise, given his reaction to me last night. I just… Are you sure about this, Lauren?” He placed his hands on my shoulders.

I nodded. “I am. He’s my whole list. Everything I ever wanted.”

Mack closed his eyes for a second, but when he opened them back up, he pulled his face into a smile (a very taught and terribly fake one, but a smile nonetheless).

“Then I’m happy for you and I agree. If I were lucky enough to have you, I wouldn’t want to share you with anyone either. You’ve been a very good friend to me and I’m so glad I met you. You got me out there climbing again, talking about Tess, living again.” He pulled me into a hug and I melted into him, savoring the warm steady presence of my friend.

When he let go, he added, “I’ve been thinking about finding another place to work than the casino.” He winked. I wanted to protest, but he continued, saying, “It sounds like Rachel will be back next week anyway. You’ll have your old Blackjack buddy back.”

There it was again, that smile that held so much more sadness than joy. I pulled my face into one to mirror his, even though I didn’t want Rachel. She’d called the other day, probably to tell me about her homecoming, but I hadn’t even answered. I wanted Mack. Always. But I understood why he needed to find another place to work. And as much as I knew it would suck, not seeing Mack would be the easiest way to go about this all.

I felt a few tears prick at the corners of my eyes and I smooshed myself back into him. “I’m sorry. I wish things were different.”

“Me, too. But all that matters to me is that you’re going to be so happy with Adrian.” He kissed the top of my head and squeezed me tight. “Now, I’m gonna get out of here before we both start bawling like babies, okay?” His lips pulled up into a broad smile as he looked down at me.

I nodded. We walked to the door.

“Wait.” I stopped with my hand on the doorknob. “What did you want to talk about?”

Mack’s face froze. “Oh. Nothing. It was nothing.” He leaned forward, pulling me to him in one last hug. “Good bye, Lauren.”

I sighed, opening the door and waving as Mack left. It felt like my heart was breaking, like waving was the dumbest thing I could be doing at that moment. And as his car pulled away, I realized that whereas Mack had told me all of the things I had done for him, had told me what a good friend I’d been, I hadn’t said anything. I hadn’t told him how he’d changed me entirely. How he accepted me. How he listened to me and made me feel sane. How he made me feel whole.

After closing the door, I crumpled into the corner of my couch and cried until I fell asleep.

A
drian was so thrilled
that I had made “the right choice” that he’d picked me up and twirled me around in the hall of his apartment building the next day when I told him about breaking off my friendship with Mack.

I smiled and told him I was sure I’d made “the right choice”, too. I told
myself
that the feelings of nausea I felt were from being spun (I was never one who could ride those twirly rides at the fair as a child). I also told myself that the clenching in my chest would go away. I tried to lose myself in Adrian’s smelling-of-laundry-soap-and-cologne scent, in his happiness, in his perfect-for-me-ness.

He plopped me down and then pulled me inside, telling me he had a surprise. A surprise which turned out to be two tickets to the opera that night which he’d bought in hopes I’d choose him. I pasted a smile on my face and clapped my hands excitedly, even though my stomach sank at the mention of the opera, having been on the edge of crying all morning and knowing my propensity for tearing up in the emotional intensities of the opera, this didn’t bode well for a tear-free evening.

Fortunately, we were going to see Wagner’s
The Flying Dutchman
, which, though it may be a love story at its core, had a dark moodiness that matched my feelings perfectly (those Germans know all about dark moodiness).

Adrian was to pick me up in a few hours, after I’d had a chance to go home and shower (because crying yourself to sleep does not a beauty-regime make) and change into something a little more suited to the opera than my jeans and a green cardigan.

I was feeling a little better after showering, fitting myself into a sleek black number, pulling out a shimmery scarf, and topping everything off with some of my sparkliest jewelry. I twisted my hair into a sleek up-do, noting the second layer of hairspray I had to give certain parts in order to smooth down all of the tiny little new hairs that were growing back, filling in the bald spots.

I was happy I didn’t have to worry as much about comb-overs anymore and sighed happily at the thought that Adrian may never have to know about my proclivity for shedding said hair as it seemed to be righting itself once and for all.

Adrian looked yummy-as-could-be in his smart gray suit and he felt even better as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a knee-weakening kiss. He was giddy and didn’t seem to be able to wipe the smile from his perfect face. The man also sweetly acknowledged the fact that he knew I was having a hard day, having to say goodbye to a friend was a rough thing and he got it if I wasn’t in the best of spirits. I thanked him for his thoughtfulness and wrapped my arm through his, feeling better by the second.

We went out to a fantastic meal at a darling little Thai restaurant in the city before walking, side by side through the wind chilled streets. Even the city, with its limited foliage, smelled like spring was handing over the reigns to summer. In just a few more weeks, this wind wouldn’t hold such a bite. After a few blocks, we blinked as we approached the opera house in all of its lighted glory, holding our hands up to shield our eyes from the yellow glow

Finding our seats, Adrian wrapped his arm around me and we whispered into each other’s ears as we watched the people around us, made observations about the stage, and I schooled Adrian in a few German phrases to get him into the mood for Wagner.

We chatted about the snippets we knew about the storyline, having neither of us seen it, but having heard the mention of the ghostly ship in our other readings. As the lights began to dim, I settled back, listing interior angle sums in my head to keep myself fresh with my geometry (since I didn’t use it as much with my statistics job), and felt relaxed, whole for the first time that day. 180…360…540…720…900…

And then the music began. The intensity of the brass instruments hit me, brought up every feeling I’d felt last night and that morning. I leaned forward, my heart in my throat as I watched the story unfold, grasping some of what was said, but finding it hard to decipher the German when it was sung so intensely.

I nodded at the darker parts of the opera, identifying so deeply with the depression of wanting something you could not have. I pursed my lips skeptically at the love story, wondering if a love where you have to give something important up to have it is worthy at all. And I cried. A lot, unfortunately.

Adrian handed me a handkerchief (yeah, he had one in his suit pocket like some sort of gentlemen of old) and rubbed a comforting hand on my back, but I couldn’t help the tears that kept spilling down my cheeks. The one consolation was that said tears remained quiet and generally unnoticeable to those around me (it could’ve easily turned into a blubbering, ugly-cry, snot-fest much like last night).

During the standing ovation, Adrian wrapped me up tight in his arms and pulled me close to him, thanking me for joining him. That lovely man stayed wrapped around me the whole walk back to his car. He kissed me deep and insistent at the car.

“Thank you for that, Adrian. What a wonderful surprise.”

He nodded, eyes glinting in the streetlights. “I’m glad I guessed correctly and went ahead with the tickets.” He looked down at his shoes for a second. “I wasn’t sure, at first, what you would decide to do.”

I licked my lips and smiled when he looked up at me again. “You were right. I understand how it would be a tough situation to put you in.”

He smiled and opened my door. As he closed it behind me, I couldn’t help but sit in the warmth of the knowledge that I had found my “perfect list guy”. I had finally found a man who would open doors for me, who would take me to the opera, who would offer me a handkerchief, who would speak foreign languages with me, and hopefully someday, travel the world with me.

I
looked
up from the novel I was reading as Adrian cleared his throat again from where he sat at the other end of my couch. He was reading
The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich
, having been reminded of his interest in German history by our night at the opera a few weeks prior.

It was the normal Sunday morning routine we’d settled into together, getting up, having coffee at the local shop and bringing it back to his building for a quiet morning of reading on the couch, pausing every once in a while to read each other a poignant paragraph or discuss an interesting fact.

Actually, I wasn’t reading on that morning. My tablet was in my lap, a game of Blackjack in progress on the screen (one that I was winning). I had felt the pull to go back to the game, missing the brain-break the numbers brought me. I had been spending a lot more time at Adrian’s apartment in the city and didn’t know of any casinos within walking distance, so I had started playing an online version of the game instead. Other than that, my life had calmed back down into my normal routine, except now I had Adrian to share it with. It was just as I’d imagined settling down with the man of my dreams would look.

Actually, I wasn’t the only one not reading.
Reading
was a very relative term to what Adrian was doing that morning. Instead of his normal focus, he was shifting his seat, clearing his throat, and his eyes kept wandering off into the distance out the window. I poked his leg with my foot and tipped my head to the side.

“Everything okay over there?”

His cheeks reddened and he smiled at me in the way I knew meant he was hiding something. He’d given me the same face when he’d managed to invite my sister and the girls out to my birthday dinner without me knowing about it.

“Uh, yes. Everything is fine.” He cleared his throat again and put his book down in his lap. “Do you mind if we talk about something for a moment?”

I raised my eyebrows and put my tablet down as well. “Sure. What’s up?”

“Well —“ Throat clearing. “There’s — I know this might be slightly soon, but I really feel a connection with you and…” He looked down at his book as he trailed off.

Or was that my hearing blacking out? The words, “this might be soon” made my stomach roll and my heart clench in on itself, tight.
Was he going to say he loved me?
A feverish wash spiked my temperature to an uncomfortable degree and I was quite certain my brain was swelling to a dangerous size inside my skull.

Adrian’s mouth kept moving, but all I could hear was some incessant buzzing. Oh goodness. I was having a stroke. A blood clot? Whatever the case, it wasn’t good. I blinked and tried to clear my ears like you do when there’s a change in pressure on an airplane.

“Lauren?” I opened my eyes fully to look at Adrian, leaning in toward me, his forehead crinkled in question as he watched me. “Are you okay?”

Well,
that
I heard. My heart calmed a bit. Maybe I wasn’t dying.

“I’m fine.” I shook my head. “Sorry, just got a bit dizzy there for a second. What did you say?”

“I was wondering what you thought about moving in with me.”

Oh, thank goodness.
It was just about moving in, not love or getting married. But even in my relief, all I wanted to do was push away. The only answer in my heart to his question was no. A resounding no.

I pulled in a deep breath at the realization. I didn’t want to live with Adrian. I’d almost had a stroke when I’d thought he was going to say he loved me. I had been relieved when he hadn’t. These weren’t good signs.

The last few weeks had been filled with Adrian, with reading together on the couch, with discussing the newspaper, teaching each other snippets of the languages we knew, making plans to meet his family in California, and having mathematical discussions late into the evening. My list was everywhere, all of it, completely fulfilled.

The problem was that I wasn’t the same girl who’d created that list anymore. I must’ve switched something in my brain when I’d figuratively “thrown out” that list of mine so many months before. Or maybe it was that my brain stopped running the show and my heart had taken over, because all I wanted was to laugh, to curl up on the couch to watch an old movie, to share my popcorn with a sandy-haired man who made me feel whole.

Mack. My heart wanted Mack.

Only then did I realize that I had loved him for such a long time that I couldn’t pinpoint when it had started. I ached to hear his voice and longed for his smile. I had fallen in love with my best friend despite the fact that I’d written him off the very first time I’d met him, despite the fact he should’ve been all wrong for me.

“Adrian, I —“ Oh gosh. I stopped myself. How could I say this to him? The last few weeks hadn’t been horrible. He was kind and lovely and I hated the fact that I didn’t want him.

His face tightened at my tone and he pressed his lips together, shaking his head and putting a hand out to stop me even though I couldn’t possibly think of how to go on. “It’s okay. I know it’s early and it was a silly thing to suggest.”

It was my turn to shake my head and put my hand out. “Adrian.”

His face fell as he looked at me.

“You’re the most amazing guy. I honestly don’t know how it happened, and it’s absolutely no fair to you, but I think I fell in love with someone else before I even met you, and… well, I’ve been trying to convince myself that I wasn’t this whole time.”

Adrian’s eyes contracted slightly. “Mack.” He sighed. “If I’m being honest, I’ve always known. I knew the night I met him, when I saw you two together. It’s why I freaked out and made you stop seeing him.”

My heart burst with equal amounts of pain and excitement. On one hand, I was in love with Mack. How had I really not realized it this whole time? Had my heart been screaming it and my brain just hadn’t been listening? And then there was the fact that this man before me was a great man. He was perfect for the girl I’d been before that fateful day, the finding of the bald spot, the day I’d met Mack.

I put my hand over Adrian’s and squeezed tight. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say.”

He smiled. “It’s alright, Lauren. I hope he treats you well. You deserve it.” Adrian stood and kissed me on my forehead. He nodded as if that were enough. And it really was.