Imperfectly Perfect (9 page)

"Go ahead into the living room Emma," she urged. "I made something for you."

I smiled, knowing exactly what would be waiting for me on her coffee table. The first time I had been to her house with Shane, she had made no-bake cookies. I was just a kid at the time and I ate three or four since they were the most delicious things I had ever tasted. I casually mentioned to her that my mother didn't bother to bake, so from then on she always made a point to make a batch when she knew I was going to be around.

I grabbed a cookie and fell back onto the couch, still feeling the effects of my hangover. I closed my eyes while chewing, savoring every last bite.

"So how's my boy?"

I opened my eyes and sat up as Ms. Strout handed me a cup of coffee. She smiled casually as she sat down in her rocking chair.

"He's good. Same old, same old."

"Oh," she pressed her lips together in a nervous line, "I hope he's not working too hard."

"He works hard, but he plays harder," I assured her.

"And how are you dear?"

Ah, there it was. The dreaded question.

"Well, to be honest Ms Strout, things have been better," I admitted.

Ms. Strout had been the one, and only, woman that I ever felt like I could talk to as a kid. She never judged, or pushed her views on me. Shane was a lot like her in that way. They were both great listeners, but Ms. Strout always gave the best advice, and right now that was something I needed.

"Well," she probed, sipping her coffee, "tell me about it."

I gave her the shortened, less dramatic, version of my dilemma. I made sure to emphasize that I really was happy with my life, but as I approached my thirtieth birthday I felt as though something was missing.

"So, do you want my opinion?" she questioned.

"Absolutely," I nodded.

"Despite what your Mother might say, life
isn't
perfect, it's what you make it. My life isn't perfect, well according to lots of other people. I could have easily fallen apart when Shane's father abandoned us," she paused and reached toward me to rest her hand on my leg, "But I didn't because, as terrible as it was to think my baby boy would forever be without a father, I wanted Shane to have the best life possible with me."

"So, you're saying I shouldn't worry about it."

She shook her head. "Not necessarily. I think you need to look at what you already have."

I was trying to follow her, but the champagne fog seemed to still be clouding my mind.

"Shane said the same thing."

"He's a smart boy," she smiled. "You have a great life in the city and you are surrounded by people who truly love you. That's more than most people will have in their lifetime. Besides," she continued, "you are still so young. Thirty is the new twenty, or so they say."

I had to hand it to her. She was right, things could be worse. I had more in my life at that moment than lots of people. I had a job, a roof over my head, and most importantly my health. But call me greedy, I wanted more. Right there in Ms. Strout's house I made a plan, I was going to grab the bull by the horns and start searching for the missing piece to my perfect puzzle.

I was ecstatic when the weekend was finally over, and it was time to head back to good old NYC. I can't even begin to explain to you how happy I was to be getting out of Maine and away from my family. I know that sounds terrible and I love my family-really I do-but in case you hadn't noticed, they have the tendency to be quite overbearing. I was emotionally drained. The bottom line is that there was a reason I left this place, and every time I came back I was reminded of exactly why I'm living in New York with the family I chose.

It was no big surprise that after Liz's big news, all my family really put the pressure on me. I spent the remainder of my time at home diverting all the obvious questions,

'So Emma, are you dating anyone special?'

'Are you still living with those boys?'

'Don't you think its time you started considering settling down?'

At the airport, I took time to make sure I hugged Mom, Dad, and Liz while we said our goodbyes. I made plans for my next trip home, and promised I would visit when Liz had her baby in the spring. I may not be overly fond of my sister, but I was determined to be the best Auntie I could be and was going to spoil my niece/nephew every chance I got.

So there I was, on the curb waving as they pulled away. It might sound horrible to say I felt relieved, but I did. Mostly because I knew that once I got home the boys wouldn't give a shit that I'm not married. I was also relieved because I actually knew what direction I wanted my life to head in. I had a plan. I needed to find me a man, and not just any man; I was going on the search for the
perfect
man.

Everyone was supposed to have a soul mate right? We saw it in movies and books all the time. There was one person for everybody-I truly believed that-and surely it was only fair to think that there was that one person out there that had been created just for me. I just hoped he wasn't hiding. I had nine months before I turned thirty so I gave myself a deadline; I wanted to be headed in the direction of my 'happily ever after' by then. I had serious work to do.

I could picture him easily. Tall, dark, and handsome, he would have the most wonderful smile, and piercing yet loving eyes. He would shower me with love, and place me on the pedestal that I deserved. Not only that but he would be a terrific father one day. I wanted to marry a man that would be the type of dad who took a vested interest in his children.

On the airplane ride home I decided I needed to seriously consider the options a woman had to find a decent eligible bachelor in New York. Being the control freak that I was I decided to make a list of all the possible places and events I might find him.

1. Work

Probably not. I worked in the cruel hard world of advertising and most of the men at my office were complete slime balls. They were the type of guys who tended to talk to your chest rather than your face. I crossed this one out.

2. Bars

Upon further thinking, I decided this was probably another dead end. I'd already spent the last eight years of my life in bars and knew that single guys at bars are on the prowl. I should know because I had been too. Those men are not looking for a wife. The saying "why buy the cow, when you can get the milk for free" popped into mind. Another scribble.

3. The Boys' friends

I wrote this down and immediately scratched it out. The guys' only friends are each other and me. They occasionally hung out with a few of their coworkers, but they were hardly friends. Plus there was always the chance that I could put them in an awkward position if anything were to go wrong in the relationship and I would never want to do that to them. Aaargh! This was proving to be harder than I thought it would be.

4. Online

Eh, this one sort of creeped me out. Anyone could pose as anybody, and that just didn't sit well with me. I heard about a girl in college who did this. Granted it was relatively new at the time but she got totally duped. The guy was supposedly this big hunky college jock but...well let's just say she was immensely disappointed when she finally did meet him. Online dating never turned out to be a good thing; I've watched the show Catfish, and they're never who they say they are.

5. Speed Dating

I hated that I even wrote this down. All I could picture were these hairy forty-year-old men who lived in their mother's basement, sitting at a table with me, talking about World of Warcraft. But-as bad as it sucked-it seems like my only viable option.

Shit.

I sucked back my rum and coke and contemplated my less than favorable options; it wasn't looking good. But call me crazy-or stupid-by the time the plane landed at JFK I was giddy with excitement because I had talked myself into the whole speed-dating thing. I had to or I knew I wouldn't actually go through with it. I was absolutely sure that I couldn't go alone, so I decided I was going to trick the guys into going with me. I knew that if I told them where I was going to take them that they would refuse. But I also knew that ultimately they would enjoy themselves because we always had a hell of a time when we went anywhere together.

I walked towards the carousel with my head on a swivel, looking for Tyler and Shane. I started speed walking when I spotted Shane next to the arrival/departure screens.

"Hey you!" I shouted. I needed to tell him before I lost my nerve. "I came up with a fabulous plan on the plane!" Suddenly I realized something was out of place, so I paused and looked around, "Where's Tyler?" I asked.

Shane awkwardly shoved his hands into his pockets and fidgeted, "He, um, decided to not come."

"Okay." That was weird. Tyler and Shane have
always
picked me up from the airport; it was a tradition of sorts. All through high school they had given me rides to wherever I needed to be. Even as adults they continued being my escorts; this included giving me rides home whenever I returned from a trip. Up to now, Tyler had never missed a pickup.

Shane removed his hand from his pocket and rubbed his temples. "So are you feeling any better?" he asked.

I shifted my weight. "Yeah I guess. I don't really want to talk about it right now though, okay." I forced a smile and handed Shane my bag.

"Okay", he muttered. His eyes met mine and I couldn't help but notice how bloodshot they were. He must have had a rough night out with the guys. It was Sunday and I have only ever seen his eyes like that when he was spending his day in one of his 'sleepless hangovers'. That would also explain why Tyler hadn't come. He must have been too hungover to make the trip to the airport.

"Rough one last night?" I questioned as we walked towards the parking garage.

"Huh?"

"Your eyes, they're all red. So it must've been a good one last night huh?" I questioned him again.

"Oh that," he rubbed his eyes, as if rubbing them would help make the redness go away. "Nah, I've been a little stressed that's all."

"Work?"

"Not particularly."

He was being so cagey and very 'un-Shane' like. I stopped in my tracks. "What's up Shane?"

He cleared his throat, and flashed a crooked smile at me. "I've just been waiting to hear about this plan that you've dreamed up."

I smiled and continued to walk. "Well I have something really fun that I want all of us to do. I'm not sure when, so I'll have to do a little research. But the deal is we all
have
to go."

"So what is this thing?" He asked as he placed my suitcase in the trunk of his car.

I pondered how to answer this, I knew I had to make a good sale or it would be a no go. Shane knew me like the back of his hand, and there was no way I could ever get away with lying to him; or any of the guys for that matter.

"You'll just have to trust me when I say it's this really fun thing that we'll laugh and talk about for years." I shot him my famous womanly pout; you know, the one I told you about earlier? The one that every woman uses at various stages of her life in order to get something she
really
wants. The pout that makes every man give in.

Shane shook his head, "Fine, we'll go do whatever it is that you want us to do, but
please
stop making that dumb face." He may have been my best friend, and he may know everything about me, but he was also a mere mortal, unable to resist the charm of my lips. Most men don't have a backbone; shoot them a pout and they cave.

I jumped and gave Shane a quick hug, "Thank you, thank you, oh goodness this will be so much fun!"

He must have been sensing my taste of victory, "I'm pretty sure that whatever it is you're making us do is going to be lame. So, you better take us out to drinks after we do this 'thing."

Whenever I spent time away from the city, I always returned with a deepened appreciation for all things about my life here in New York. Pulling up to the condo, I thought about how much I loved it. My home was here, there was no doubt about that; it was pretty much set in stone when I had changed my license over a few years ago. But the real nail in the coffin had been when we decided to buy this place.