"Good afternoon, sleepyhead," said James as I patted into the kitchen. He was sitting at the table drinking a soda and reading the newspaper. His attire told me that he must have just gotten back from playing golf.
"Hi," I yawned. I grabbed a mug from the cabinet and made a cup of coffee with my Keurig.
"What time did you end up getting home last night?"
"Almost four, I think?" After pouring creamer into my cup, I joined James at the table.
"Did you have fun?"
I nodded and took a sip of coffee, hoping the mug obscured my face enough that James couldn't read it.
"You didn't drink too much, did you?" he asked.
"No."
For years that question would have comforted me, knowing that he cared. Now it sounded different. Like an accusation or a warning. It suddenly annoyed me, and before I let on that I was perturbed, I stood up and put a slice of bread in the toaster.
"Tisa, I have to go to New York for a few days," I heard James say behind me.
"What?" I spun around.
"Possibly a week."
"Oh. When."
"Tomorrow. My flight leaves first thing. I know it's such short notice, but Nelson called me last night."
His boss, Nelson Whitcomb, would sometimes call James to be his right hand man on business trips. The company's headquarters was in New York, and James and Nelson had made a handful of trips there over the last few years. But usually it was just for a couple days, maybe three. Never as much as a week.
"Oh," I said again. "Okay."
"If all goes well, I might get a promotion out of it. Nelson was talking six digits."
"Wow," I exclaimed, just as the toast popped up. I grabbed it and began spreading peanut butter on it.
"That could mean a lot of good things for us, Tisa."
"Right," I nodded as I returned the peanut butter to the pantry. Then I sat back down at the table with my toast.
"Don't sound so enthusiastic," James muttered.
"What do you want me to say?" I asked with a mouth full of peanut butter.
"I don't know. I thought you'd be at least a little excited. We could get a bigger house."
"Why?" I asked. "I like this house."
When James and I had first married, he'd insisted on getting a house, even though I was completely content with our apartment. Now he was talking about an even bigger house? I was never interested in material things, which was one of our differences. Sometimes I would think that James worked a lot because he was bored at home, and perhaps a little bit with me. But I think the true reason was because he liked being part of the status quo. It made him feel important.
"Don't you want nice things?"
"I have nice things, James," I argued.
He ran his hand over his face, exasperated. Knowing there was nothing more to say, he stood up from the table.
"I gotta take a shower," he said before he left the kitchen.
I sat at the table for a few more minutes while I finished my coffee. Perhaps I wasn't being fair to James. I probably should have acted more enthusiastic or at least told him I was proud of him. But for some reason that drinking too much comment really got to me. And I knew why.
*
"I have something to tell you," I said.
It was another late night for Harry, but he'd insisted on calling me when he got home. After informing me that everyone had enjoyed the party and was glad I came, and Penny "just adored" me, and there was no word from Britney, thank goodness, I figured it was time to tell him my news.
"Uh...okay..." Harry said, sounding a little apprehensive.
"It's good," I reassured him. "Sort of."
"Sort of?"
"Well...good for us, but we have to be very careful."
"What are you talking about, love?"
I sucked in a breath and let it out. "James is going out of town."
"What?"
"In the morning. For a few days, maybe a week. On business."
"What does that mean?" I could hear the smile in his voice.
"It means," I began, clearing my throat, "I want you to come stay with me."
"You do?"
"Yes."
"Ah, but babe, that's risky."
"I know. We'd have to be very careful. I've been thinking, you probably shouldn't leave your car parked your car out front," I continued, excitedly, "so it might be best if I gave you a garage door opener. That way you could leave your car in the garage and enter through the kitchen. When we go to school we could take my car so you'd only have to use yours to go to work, and —"
"Tisa," Harry interrupted.
"Yes?"
I heard him sigh loudly. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Well...I..." I stammered, "Yes, I do. I want to be with you."
"I don't..." Harry started.
"You don't want to be with me?"
"Ah, baby, of course I do. More than anything. It's just...what if your husband comes home early while I'm there?"
"Oh, he won't," I insisted. "He always calls when he's at the airport. Leaving and arriving."
Harry sighed once more and then said, "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yeah," he replied. "It's fucking crazy, but I can't say no to being with you.
"I promise I'll make it worth your while."
Harry chuckled. "I bet you will."
***
I slid my hand into the left pocket of my jacket and gripped the key, feeling its edges against my palm as I squeezed. In my right pocket was the spare garage door opener. I'd made sure I put fresh batteries in it before I'd left the house. Knowing this was actually going to happen, a sudden wave of nerves came over me. I pulled my jacket tight around me, taking in a couple of deep breaths until I saw Harry walking toward me. Though his eyes looked sleepy, his set jaw gave a look of determination.
"Hi," was all I could manage.
"Hi," he echoed.
"Um...here," I said, pulling the garage door opener out of my pocket and handing it to him. "I usually park my car on the right side, so you can take the left side, closer to the door."
"Right." Harry took the device from me and stuffed it in the front pocket of his backpack.
"And this," I continued, not looking at him but only at my hand, "is the spare house key."
I let out a deep breath before handing it to him. But instead of taking it from me, he cupped his hand over mine. I lifted my head to see his beautiful eyes staring at me. I felt him run his thumb over mine as he mouthed the words I love you. I slowly grinned and blushed, finally placing the key in his hand.
"It's going to be fine," he whispered as he put it in his pocket, though I wasn't sure if he was trying to reassure me or himself. "Are you nervous?"
"A little," I said.
"I can tell."
I covered my mouth to stifle a giggle. I was most definitely nervous. It was only then that I realized I was shaking. Harry took my hand again and gently tugged me closer to him.
"I can't wait to be alone with you," he murmured in my ear.
"Me neither," I breathed. "You're done at noon, right?"
"Yeah. I don't have to work tonight either."
"Great! Then we have the whole rest of the day together," I said. "I'm done at eleven so I'll go on home and get everything ready."
"What is there to get ready?" Harry smirked.
"Oh...things. I need to put clean sheets on the bed, stuff like that. Maybe make some lunch."
"You don't have to do that for me," he said. "I can just pick up something on the way if you like."
"That's fine too," I shrugged.
After History class, I walked to the snack bar for my usual cup of coffee. A light rain had begun, so I stayed inside to drink it. Just as I was finishing up, that Leslie girl from Sociology came up to me.
"Hey, Tisa," she said.
"Hi, Leslie. How's it going?"
"Okay. So you and Harry are a thing, right?" she asked, cutting to the chase.
"Um...why?" I asked, taken aback.
"Oh, I just wondered," she replied, though I could tell by her tone it was more than curiosity. I recalled her asking me a similar question before, but this time she sounded like she knew more than she was letting on.
"I heard there was a kick ass party this weekend," she continued.
"Ah, yes," I nodded. "Some friends had one—"
"And you were with Harry," Leslie cut me off.
"I...went with Harry, yes. He's one of my friends."
"Uh huh. Just wondered," she repeated.
I didn't appreciate her accusing gaze, though I knew it was none of her business. Before I could say anything else, she walked away. I shook my head in bewilderment, wondering how the hell that conversation had started.
Deciding not to dwell on it, I stood up and threw away my cup, making my way to the ladies room. Just as I was about to reach it, I heard a loud cackle to my left. I turned my head in time to catch the back of Leslie and another girl with red hair walking out the snack bar door. Rolling my eyes, I pushed the bathroom door open hard, almost knocking into another girl.
"Oops, so sorry!" I exclaimed.
"'s okay," she murmured before exiting.
Inside the stall, I tried to calm myself and gather my thoughts. As much as I despised gossip and petty high school girl-like jealousy, what Leslie had said really bothered me. How much did she know? And who told her? It wasn't until I was washing my hands that it dawned on me. I knew that redhead looked familiar, although I'd really only caught a glimpse of her. She was the redhead from Mikado's. Britney's friend, Liz. The one I'd thought was nice and friendly. Shit.
I quickly dried my hands and made my way outside, pulling the hood of my jacket over my head. I jogged toward the English building, trying to get out of the rain. Because I was staring at the ground, I didn't see Harry until he'd grabbed me by the arm.
"Oh God, you scared me," I half laughed.
"Are you okay?" he asked. "I called your name."
"Sorry, yeah. I wasn't paying attention."
"Something on your mind?"
"No...well...yeah."
Harry raised his eyebrows.
"I'll tell you later," I said. "It's no big deal."
"Alright then," he smiled. Then he leaned in. "I'll see you at home." He lightly kissed my cheek and caressed my arm. With mixed emotions, I watched him walk away.
Notes:
Sorry for the late update and short chapter. I'm trying to get inspired, but sometimes you just get writer's block.
What do you think's going to happen with Leslie/Liz/Britney?
Thoughts/feelings on James?