Love Love (10 page)

“
Yes, we always make an
effort to get together a couple of times a year.”

“
I’m a bit jealous. It’s
just my mom and dad, and my sister.” Scratch that, it’s really just
me.

He rambles a bit about how important
his family is to him, how lucky he is to have so many siblings, and
how he has a new niece on the way. My foot is starting to get cold
when he finally includes me in the conversation. “So, Gabby, what
made you decide to go into interior design?” I get the sense that
he’s just being polite. He seems much more at ease talking about
himself.

“
It’s something that has
fascinated me since I was a kid. I always took note of furniture
and layout, as well as color. I’m a very visual person.”

Dane raises an eyebrow.
“Really?”

I realize what I just implied and
start fidgeting with my napkin.

He looks at his watch and then back to
me. “Listen, I really need to get back to work, but I’m looking
forward to seeing you on Friday. I’m staying at the W Hotel on
Broadway until the apartment is finished, so we can have dinner
there, if that’s okay with you.”

“
Yeah, that’d be great.” I
certainly hope the conversation is more interesting at dinner. Or
perhaps, we won’t talk at all.

“
Terrific, I’ll look
forward to seeing you then. Say seven? I’ll meet you in the
lobby.”

“
Sounds good.”

Dane stands up from the table. “I’ll
walk you out.”

No you won’t, because I’m missing a
shoe. “Actually, I think I’m going to stay a bit
longer.”

“
Alright. Well then, I’ll
see you on Friday.”

“
Absolutely.”

Dane walks out the door, and once he
does, I see Brad coming towards me with his hands behind his back.
His crooked smile makes a glowing appearance. “I think you might
need this,” he says, passing me my shoe from behind like it’s a
super-covert operation.

I shake my head and roll my eyes at
myself. “Thanks.”

“
Go easy on the heel next
time. I don’t want anyone losing a head.” His voice erupts with
laughter as he heads back behind the counter.

Before I head back to post-it land, I
pull out my cell phone to text Fran about Dane.

Me: Hey! Guess who I just
saw?

Fran: Hmmm…no
idea

Me: Dark &
Sexy

Fran: You’re shitting
me

Me: Wouldn’t shit you
about something like this

Fran: And…

Me: Went to his apartment,
then had coffee

Fran: Sounds boring,
please tell me there’s more

Me: He asked me out Friday
night

Fran: Now you’re
talking

Me: Will need help with
wardrobe choice

Fran: Always glad to
oblige

Me: See you at
home

Fran: Staying at
Kyle’s

Me: Man you move fast.
It’s only been eight days! See u in morning. xo

Fran: Hee hee.
xo

***

I feel
a hand pressing on my shoulder. I’m not sure if I’m dreaming, so I
roll over, but there it is again. Cracking my eyes open, I vaguely
see what look like Fran’s ebony strands falling into my face. It’s
either that or a gigantic spider, and I’m praying it’s
hair.

“
Wake up,
sleepyhead!”

My mumbled, sleepy voice comes from
underneath the warm blankets and I close my eyes again.
“Huhhhh...sleeping here.”

“
Gabby, get up!”

I slowly sit up and rub my tired blue
eyes. “This better be good. I was having a hot dream.”

Both her eyebrows raise up. “About
Dane?”

A smile creeps across my
face. “Maybe. I told you he asked me out tomorrow night, to
his
hotel
.” I
emphasize the last word for effect. “Now it’s all I can think
about. Oh, and like I said, I need help with clothes.”

“
Of course you will. We can
dig through my closet and find something voluptuous for
you!”

“
I was afraid of that.
Maybe I should get something new.”

“
Chill, Gab. We’ll find
something sexy and tasteful and perfect.”

After a hot, steamy shower, washing
Dane all over me, I pull myself together and Fran and I head out
the door for some much needed caffeine. Making our way over to The
Brew House, I feel so invigorated. The sun is beaming today.
Everyone is all smiles. Or maybe it’s just me. The line is
ridiculously long, but waiting doesn’t bother me today. My patience
seems endless, my mind consumed with emerald eyes. When we finally
reach the counter, I can’t stop smiling.

With a curious smile Brad says, “hey,
Gabby. Your usual?”

“
Yup, please. And Brad,
this is my best friend, Fran. Fran, this is Brad.”

“
Hey, Fran.” Brad’s voice
is friendly as always. “Welcome to The Brew House.”

“
Hey.” Fran eyes him like a
cat on the prowl. When we get to the booth she looks over at me and
gestures to Brad, who treats us to a dimpled smile. “He’s kinda
cute.”

“
Yeah. He’s a nice guy.
Cute too. And he always has my drink ready which is a bonus.” Not
to mention he cleans up my coffee and toilet messes and saves my
shoes. Speaking of guys, what’s going on with you and Kyle? You’ve
barely known him two weeks, but you’ve been spending an awful lot
of time at his place.”

Fran puckers her lips. “He has the
ability to rock my world, what can I say?” Then her eyes get a bit
dreamy, which is unusual. “I kind of like him, Gabby. He’s really
sweet, and he’s interested in me…I mean, in who I am. He’s always
asking me questions about me as a kid, California, and…I don’t
know, he’s attentive, I guess.”

That makes me happy. “I like him
already, then.”

Fran’s face takes on a look of
excitement. She reaches into her purse and then slides something
under her palm across the table.

When she lifts her hand, I laugh.
“Where on earth did you find watermelon Jolly Ranchers?”

“
I have my ways,” she
grins. "Remember sixth grade in Mr. Flander’s class; I gave you one
of these? You didn’t waste any time crinkling up the wrapper and
popping it in your mouth."

My face brightens. "Of course I
remember that. These were my favorite then.”

"Mr. Flanders literally stopped class
and started sniffing the air like a bloodhound.” Fran lifts her
nose so her nostrils flare and lowers her voice to imitate his,
“Who's eating candy?”

I remember it like it was
yesterday. “I can still see chubby, bald, old Mr. Flanders walking
in between the two aisles tapping desks and startling kids, the
smell of sweet watermelon hovering in the air. Everyone knew it was
me. He leaned in close to my face, and then you piped up, “It's me,
Mr. Flanders,”
saving me from having to
write “I will not eat candy in school” a hundred times on the
blackboard during a detention. Why did you do that,
Fran?"

She shrugs her shoulders. "You were
always saving me, Gabby. Maybe I wanted to save you for a
change."

My phone rings, disrupting our
nostalgic moment. It’s my Mom. Looking down at my watch, I notice
it’s 8:15, which means it’s only 5:15 in California. It’s awfully
early for a mother-daughter chat. I guess this must be my monthly
call. Ugh. I consider not answering it, but for a split second hold
out hope she’ll be different, so I do. "Hi, Mom," I answer with
bland enthusiasm.

"Hi, dear. How are you?"

The sound of her voice causes me to
start shredding napkins into tiny pieces and piling them in mounds
on the table. "I'm fine, Mom."

"How’s work?"

My voice gets smaller and I’m trying
to breathe. "It's fine."

"You getting there on time every
day?"

What does she think I am, twelve?
"Yes, Mom,” I reply, crossing my eyes and wiggling my nose
obnoxiously at Fran, who’s pretending not to eavesdrop.

"Good. Have you thought about applying
to any schools for a master’s program?"

I’m silently screaming at her. "No,
Mom. Not right now."

"Well, you should. This job you're in
will only lead to a dead end. You really need a Master’s degree if
you're going to get anywhere in this world."

My skin starts to crawl, and inside
I’m cringing. Gotta love family pep talks. "Yes, Mom." A change of
subject is necessary and I deploy my usual tactic. "So, how are
you, Mom?"

And she's off and running. "I'm great,
dear. The shop is booming. People always need beautiful clothes to
wear, right? So yes, it's wonderful. In fact, I just went to a
runway show last week in Paris. It was simply amazing. In between
the show I managed to make it to the Eiffel Tower, The Louvre, and
the Palace of Versailles. Paris is such a beautiful city. Jim and I
are getting on great. It's been seven months now, and he just
adores everything about me. He showers me with affection and I
can't get enough. I think this one might just be a keeper. We’ll
see. Anyway, things are going great here. I'm glad you're doing
well. We'll talk soon."

"Okay, Mom, bye."

"Goodbye, dear."

I hang up the phone and the tension
immediately leaves my body.

Fran reaches over and grabs my hand.
“You okay, sweetie?”

“
Yeah. I don’t know why I
ever think things will be different with her. I might as well
pre-record my responses.” I feel my eyes start to burn and a tear
trickles down my cheek.

Fran squeezes my hand
tightly.

“
Why can’t I just have a
normal, loving mom, Fran?”

“
Gabby, what’s normal
anyway? I don’t think any mom is normal.”

“
I know,” I agree with a
sigh of resignation. “I guess I mean an involved mom. One that
thinks I’m special no matter what…you know…the kind of mom that
wants to hear me gush about my day, my boyfriend, my life. The mom
that doesn’t care if I’m wearing my Converse sneakers or my hair’s
in a messy ponytail, or the fact that I haven’t taken a shower. The
one that wants to take me to the mall and eat giant pretzels while
we shop, and help me pick out the right dress for
me
. The one who bumps my
shoulder and laughs, who shares her hopes and dreams. The kind of
mom that hurts when I’m hurting, and puts her arms around me after
I’ve lost the most important person in my life and I feel like
maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance that things will be
okay…”

Fran gives me a sympathetic smile.
“Your mom’s doing what she knows, Gabby. It still totally sucks
that you got the short end of the stick.”

Squeezing the Jolly Rancher out of its
wrapper, I pop it into my mouth. It’s sweet and perfect, just what
I need to distract myself from my crazy mother. She’s my mom, and I
love her, but I still can’t help wishing she could be
different.

***