A Lot to Look Forward To

            Surprise!  I have a long weekend, so I’ll be coming up to see you this Friday!      

            I gulp as I read the email from my mom.  This Friday?  But it’s already Wednesday!  Then again, my mother has never been one for planning.  She’s not scatterbrained, exactly, but she does prefer the spontaneity in life.  I continue reading:

            I’ve booked a hotel, so you won’t have to worry about me intruding on your privacy.  Maybe you could show me around Columbus?  I’m sure your world has changed since your college days!  See you soon.

            She ended her email with an xoxo Mom, as she ended all of her messages, even every single text, no matter how short.  I smile a little.  She was staying in a hotel, so really, there wasn’t much to worry about.  I could show her around a little, as she suggested, and maybe—she’d want to meet Cam.  Oh no.  Mom isn’t one for subtleties, and she knew all about Cam back in his earlier days.  Hopefully her protective mama-bear ways wouldn’t take the lead this weekend. 

            After work, I headed to happy hour with a few of my good college friends.  Emma, sadly, was at work all night, so I went alone.  Surprisingly, I was the first one there.  The waiter suggested a gin and tonic with a splash of grapefruit juice and a maraschino cherry, so I ordered that and began sipping on it.  No need to go crazy before anyone else had even arrived. 

            Soon after receiving my drink, I spot Marie walking through the doors.  Her glossy dark hair is as pin-straight as always, and I eye it enviously before she sees me.  I wave, and she makes a beeline for the table.

            “Hey!”  She goes in immediately for a hug.  “How have you been?  Wow, you smell good,” she adds, pushing her nose to my neck.  I laugh and swat at her. 

            “Hey to you too!  I’m so glad to see you!”  We release our hug and just as I’m sitting down, I see a flash of blonde. 

           

            “Ahhhh!”  Kolby has snuck up on us both, but on Marie in particular, and has her hands over Marie’s eyes, startling her.  Marie yanks on Kolby’s hands.  “You aren’t fooling anyone, Kolb.” 

           

            Releasing her hands from Marie’s face and plopping down next to her, Kolby sighs dramatically.  “I suppose not,” she says with a grin.  “But it was fun!”  She looks at me in approval.  “Nice shirt.  You look hot!” 

           

            “Thanks boo,” I say, and blow her a kiss.  Kolby is so full of personality and bursting with silly energy that it’s hard to keep your own exuberance in when you’re around her. 

            “I see you’re way ahead of us,” Marie says, eying my drink.  I offer some to her. 

                       

            “It’s good!” I insist.  After Marie, Kolby takes a sip. 

            As soon as they get their drinks, the gossiping begins.  After college, Marie secured a place in law school while Kolby scored a kick-ass job with a radio station.  It’s a country station, and Kolby really doesn’t even enjoy country music that much, but she’s a riot to listen to and her coworkers, whom I imagine are always sporting huge cowboy hats and chewing tobacco, eat it up. 

            “I swear our intern is a moron, though,” Kolby says, rolling her eyes.  “He’s this really sweet kid who cannot speak in front of people at all.  Which, you know, is kind of essential for this job!” 

           

            “Maybe the person who hired him is the moron, then,” Marie suggests, ever the diplomat. 

            “Pretty sure Kolb was the one in charge of hiring, weren’t you?”  I say.  Kolby shoots me a death glare. 

            I talk a little about Abby and her recent engagement.  Neither Marie nor Kolby have met Abby, but they know of her, and engagement is enough of a commonality between us.  Anyone our age getting engaged is reasonable, but still somewhat shocking. 

            “I’m still learning how to properly do my laundry,” Kolby says solemnly. 

            “So what about the two of you?” I ask, wanting to keep the spotlight off Cam and I for a moment, even though things have been going extremely well for us in the past few days.  “Any new prospects?” I ask Kolby.  “And what about you, Mar?  How’s Liam doing?” 

            All of a sudden, Marie bursts into tears.  Kolby and I sit there in shock for a moment, and our eyes meet.  Marie has never cried in public—well, except for that one time sophomore year when she puked up Bud Light Lime and couldn’t get it out of her brand-new Bebe dress the next day.  Needless to say, the two of us were shocked. 

            “Marie,” I say in a hushed tone, “shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay.  Do you want to go outside?”  I hand her a napkin as Kolby gingerly rubs her shoulder blades. 

            Marie heaves a deep, shaky breath and grabs the napkin, dabbing at her eyes.  Just like that, she’s recovered.  It’s silent for a moment, the mood having changed entirely. 

            “We broke up,” she said simply.  We wait in silence again.  I don’t yet know what happened, but I feel for Marie.  She’s an absolute angel, and she and Liam had been together for going on three years.  I hadn’t expected this, and I’m sure Kolby didn’t either. 

            “We’ve been fighting a lot lately,” she continues, wiping her eyes with her sleeve since the tiny cocktail napkin is totally drenched already. “Finally, one night he just said he wanted to try other people.”         

            “Try?” I ask. 

            She nods.  “His words.  Like women are something in a gift shop, or cars you can test drive.”  Letting out a bitter laugh, she adds, “I told him that’s fine, he’s young, you know the clichés.  I haven’t heard from him since.” 

            My heart aches for Marie.  She’s one of the strongest individuals I know, male or female, young or old.  Her mother died when she was just fifteen, and her dad worked constantly to put her and her younger sister through college.  She can be a tough cookie if you get on her bad side, but really, the only people Marie hates in this world are George W. Bush and now Liam. 

            The waiter comes by and I order Marie a drink.  She tries to wave it off but I insist.  “Come on,” I coax her after the waiter leaves.  “I’ll drink it if you really don’t want it.” 

            “Your mascara still looks killer,” Kolby offers.  “I can’t even get mine to stay on for more than six hours, and here you are, post-cry, looking like a makeup ad.” 

            That makes Marie crack a smile, and I see the Marie I know and love again.  When her drink arrives, she drinks it a little quickly, I notice, but she’s the farthest thing from a lightweight.  A thought tugs at my brain. 

            “When did this happen?” I ask.  Kolby shoots me a look, but I ignore her and keep my gaze on Marie. 

            Shrugging, she cups her glass with both hands like a small child and avoids my eyes.  “Yesterday,” she says quietly. 

            “What?!”  No wonder she’d cried.  If I was in her shoes, I’d be at home sleeping, or at least listening to angry music and throwing darts at a printed out picture of his face.  Well, maybe not the darts part, but still. 

            “We need to do something,” Kolby decides.  “Go out.  Dancing maybe?” 

            “Yes!” I exclaim.  “That’s perfect.  Just the thing you need.” 

            Marie rolls her eyes.  “Is it?” 

            “Yes!” I say again, nodding excitedly.  “It’ll be just like old times.  We can meet at my apartment, take three hours to get ready, pregame, and then hit the bars!”  Kolby is nodding with me, but Marie looks less than thrilled. 

            “What if the alcohol makes me a sad, weepy mess?” she asks.  It’s a valid point. 

            “Well,” I say, picturing a calendar in my head, “my mom’s coming up this weekend and I have a date on Saturday, so maybe next weekend?  That way you have some time to yourself and—”

            “Wait, wait, wait,” Marie says, holding up her hand.  The gleam in her eye is back.  “Did I hear date?” 

            I wave my hands.  “No, no, it’s nothing big.”  This was true.  Cam and I don’t even have concrete plans yet, but hey, a date is a date!  “It’s actually just with Cam, well, not just Cam like it’s a bad thing because everything has been going great with him so we might actually be back together—”  I’m interrupted again, this time by Kolby. 

            “You’re back together?” she asks incredulously.  Before she can continue I stop her. 

            “Just trust me, okay?  He’s a good guy.”  They both still look surprised, but stay quiet, so I go back to talking about our going-out plans.  “Anyway.  I say we go out two weekends from now, so we can really plan and you have some time to gather your thoughts, Marie.”  Marie’s nodding, a good sign. 

            “I think we could all use a little dancin’!” Kolby says loudly, shaking her hips in the chair.  I laugh.  Even Marie is starting to crack a smile. 

            “I haven’t been out in so long,” she says thoughtfully.  “What the hell.  Why not?” 

            Kolby and I high-five.  “Girl’s night!  Girl’s night!”  she chants. 

            I smile at my two friends from across the table.  With my mom coming into town this Friday, my date on Saturday, and the extravaganza with Kolby and Marie the following weekend, I have a lot to look forward to.  

Floral Engagement

            When I wake up to no text from Cam on Monday morning, I begin to lose hope.  As dramatic as that sounds, I was really starting to feel as though something could develop between Cam and I.  Of course, I had to go and screw it up. 

            Despite my feelings of self-loathing, I don my favorite work pants that make my butt look fabulous yet professional and manage a perfect cat eye.  Not bad for a Monday morning. 

            When I get to the office, Abby is there before me, as usual.  I stop by her desk to discuss her weekend.  For some reason, she keeps flailing her arms around and making exaggerated hand gestures, and there is a bright pink tinge to her cheeks.  She looks slightly deranged, and just as I’m about to ask what’s wrong, I notice it. 

            “OH MY GOD,” I gasp, and grab her left hand.  “NO.”

            “YES!” She shrieks.  “I’m engaged!” 

            I zero in on her ring finger.  It’s a monster, marquise style, with a gorgeous thin band of diamonds.  White gold, perfect against her pale skin.  Just unique enough, yet just classic enough for Abby. 

            “Holy shit Abby.  This is amazing.  He did such a good job.  It’s just beautiful.”  I can’t stop staring at it. 

            No wonder Abby is beaming.  She looks like sunbeams are shining out of every pore of her skin.  “Do you want to have lunch together today?  I want to hear all about your weekend too!”

            I laugh.  “Of course, but the only thing we’re going to talk about is that massive rock and how Mark proposed.” 

            Abby shakes her head, saying she isn’t ready to be bridezilla just yet.  I’m still smiling as I walk back to my desk.  One of my good friends, engaged!  Preparing to spend her whole life with someone!  It’s unreal.  I can’t even decide what I want for lunch, and here she is, making a decision that will stick with her for the rest of forever.  The thought gives me the chills, although I’m not sure if they’re from excitement or fear.  I’m no commitment-phobe, but marriage is not in the cards for my near future. 

            I throw myself into my work that day, since Paris Fashion Week is in full swing, and of course, there is more Kendall Jenner news.  I’m already sick of bleached-blonde eyebrows and heavily-pleated pants by the time lunch rolls around.  Just as I’m about to go collect Abby, I hear my name called. 

            “Hey Ryan!”  It’s Caroline.  “You’ve got a delivery!”  Then she giggles.  Giggles.  Interesting.  I shoot up from my chair, and spot her hidden behind a vase of flowers. 

            “What?”  I practically run over to her.  “Are you sure these are for me?”

            Caroline sticks her head out from behind the flowers.  They consist of dark pink roses, thin bunches of lily of the valley, some sprigs of baby’s breath, and a few types of green leaves.  “I’m positive.  You’re the only Ryan here, and even the intern can read.” 

            “Wow,” I breathe, ignoring her sarcasm.  “This is beautiful.” 

            “And heavy,” Caroline tells me.  “Take them from me!  I’m about to collapse.”  I laugh and grab them from her.  Sure enough, my name is on the card. 

            I take the flowers back to my desk.  Abby materializes next to me as I’m admiring them.  “Ooooh, looks like someone had a good date!” she says in a singsong voice. 

            Opening the card, I see she’s right.  The note reads: “To Cinderella.  Glad I was there to help you find your shoes after midnight.”  It was signed “Cameron.” 

            “Damn, these are pretty,” Abby says.  “He must really like you.” 

            “I guess so!”  I’m probably the last person on the planet who should be getting flowers right now.  Hell, I probably should have sent some flowers Cam’s way. Honestly, and as cheesy as it sounds, I'm elated.  So what if Cam never texted me back?  These flowers are much more telling than a quick message.  Perhaps my little escapade has been forgiven.  

            At lunch, I quickly brief Abby about my weekend.  She laughs hysterically at my antics, and was appropriately appreciative of Cam’s kindness. 

            “I’m sure you weren’t bad at all, Ryan,” she assures me.  “He probably thought it was cute.  Or at least funny!”  She’s already eaten her salad and is eyeing the pickle that came with my sandwich. 

            “Go for it,” I say, gesturing to the pickle.  “And yeah, I guess.  I felt so stupid though.”  I shake my head.  “Anyway, enough of this.  Tell me about Mark’s proposal!” 

            We spend the rest of lunch talking about how Mark had notified Abby’s entire family and hid them in various bushes and behind trees in the conservatory downtown while he and Abby took a snowy walk.  Apparently it had just started to flurry when Mark began listing all the little things he loved about Abby.  He got down on one knee, picture perfect, and when she said yes her family jumped out to surprise her. 

            “That’s incredible,” I say.  “Ab, I’m so happy for you.”  I think back to the weekend and don’t recall seeing anything on Instagram or Facebook.  “When are you going to alert the world?”

            Abby tells me she’s been planning on saving that for another week or so.  “I want to tell the people closest to me personally,” she explains.  “Luckily, my family already knew!  But I don’t want my friends to find out through social media.”  She wrinkles her nose.  “That’s kind of tacky.”

            I completely agree.  “I’ll be on the lookout for that engagement ring closeup on Instagram, though,” I tell her.  She laughs, and we finish our lunch chatting about work. 

            The rest of the day flies by.  As usual, I’m overwhelmed with work, and by the time 6 PM rolls around I’m exhausted.  Most of the office has already left, except for my boss, who I'm 90 percent sure never sleeps.  I wrap things up by 6:30 and finally check my phone for the first time as I gather my things.  Emma texted me, asking if Cam ever responded to me.  I’m glad she did, because I had almost forgotten my flowers on my desk.  I snap a quick photo and send it to her, and then pick up the vase and walk out of the office. 

            At home, I place the flowers in my bedroom where they can get a little sunlight the next day.  Unfortunately, I don’t have the slightest hint of a green thumb, so I’m worried they’ll be dead by morning.  As that thought crosses my mind, I decide to call Cam to thank him.  Much more personal than a text. 

            The phone rings four times before he picks up.  “Hey,” he says. 

            “Hey,” I repeat.  There’s a pause.  “I just wanted to thank you for the flowers.  They’re perfect.”  Another pause.  I almost expect him to say something, but when he doesn’t, I continue.  “And thank you for being so understanding.  I was a moron this weekend.  I’m still embarrassed.” 

            Cam finally speaks.  “Ryan.” 

            “Yes?”

            “Do you want to get a sub for dinner?” he asks.

            I can’t help but laugh.  “Yes,” I say.  “Of course I do.  Do you want to eat over at my place?  Since you know where it is and all.” 

            I’m relieved when he chuckles too.  “Sure.  What’s your order?” 

            I tell him, and he promises to be there in no more than twenty minutes.  True to his word, he shows up, tuna melt in his hand, fifteen minutes later. 

            “Cam,” I say, and I don’t care if it’s embarrassing, but I go in for a hug right away.  “Thanks again.” 

            My face is still buried in his shoulder, but I can hear his smile when he says “No prob, Ry.  I’m glad you liked the flowers.” 

            We sit at my kitchen table and don’t talk about my drunken Disney performance.  I assume he’s done worse, and I don’t want to beat a dead horse.  Instead, I ask about his job, because in all reality I have no idea what he does.  Turns out he’s in sales and doing very well so far. 

            “I never knew you were so persuasive!”  I tell him with a grin.  “Well, good for you.  It’s crazy that we’re all grown up in the real world, isn’t it?”

            Cam nods as he takes a humongous bite out of his sandwich.  I take that as a cue to keep talking.  “I mean, one of my coworkers just got engaged,” I say absentmindedly.  Immediately I regret bringing it up.  What if he thinks I’m dropping a hint or pushing a relationship?  Before I can do damage control, Cam swallows his bite of food and nods. 

            “I know what you mean.  My best friend’s younger brother just got engaged.  Younger brother.  He’s like twenty-one.” 

            I shake my head.  “Crazy.  But hey, whatever works.” 

            After dinner, we end up watching some indie movie in my bed.  I know, I know, another day spent with my dear friend Netflix.  What can I say, my life is thrilling.  Not even halfway through the movie, though, Cam’s hand travels up my thigh, and before I even start to understand the convoluted plot, we’re kissing. 

            It feels so good to kiss him, too—no alcohol, no stress, no worries about our “relationship” or where it’s going.  The last time we hooked up was awkward and embarrassing afterwards, but now everything seems romantic somehow, despite my messy room and the glow of my laptop screen in the background. 

            When I take Cam’s shirt off, I accidentally knock said laptop to the floor.  Not my smoothest moment, but we laugh it off and that’s when the frenzy starts.  We practically tear each other’s clothes off.  I can feel our kisses deepening, and after a few minutes I want nothing more than to pull him on top of me.  He takes it slow and makes me wait, but it’s well worth it in the end. 

            Later, as I feel myself drifting off to sleep, I whisper to Cam, “You don’t have to stay if you aren’t comfortable.  I won’t be offended.” 

            The last thing I remember before falling asleep is him whispering in my ear: “I want to be here with you.” 

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:  Hey everyone, thank you so much for your responses to my posting schedule update!  As of right now I am leaning towards Tuesday/Friday or Wednesday/Saturday but have not decided yet.  This next week will be insanely hectic for me, so I will not be able to choose a set posting schedule until the following week.  However, you can definitely expect a couple blog posts next week!  They'll just be surprises, so keep on the lookout!  Again, thank you all for reading my blog.  I really appreciate all of you!

- Alexis

Posting Schedule

Hi everyone--

In an effort to be a bit more organized, and to help my readers out, I was thinking of beginning a regular posting schedule.  Right now I have been a bit haphazard in my blog posting and I think sticking to a regular schedule would be an improvement!  What, if any, days work best?  Monday/Thursday?  Tuesday/Friday?  Or maybe even Saturday and another day?  If you have any suggestions, please let me know!

Thanks,
Alexis