Keep Calm and Carry a Big Drink (21 page)

Jay opens his eyes, confused. “A dead…? Does this have something to do with the fake cat funeral Jason went to in order to woo Nic?” Jay asks in a sleepy, now weary, voice.

“No, it has to do with Schrödinger’s blow job.” My voice is fully awake.

“Wait … The piano player from Charlie Brown who Lucy has a crush on?”

“Oh my God! That’s Schroeder. Ew!”

“Okay, stop,” Jay tells me firmly. “Your brain is going a mile a minute. What’s up?”

As I face him, I debate how to tell him what I’m dying to say,
I love you. I want you. I ache for you.
Instead all I come up with is “I wish you weren’t leaving tomorrow.”

“Honey, I wish I wasn’t leaving either. But I keep inviting you to Paris. You can come see me whenever you want. What happens next is totally up to you.”

“So you didn’t just bag a bridesmaid because it’s tradition?” I ask, my voice dripping insecurity.

Jay laughs lightly. “No.” He looks deep into my eyes and jokes, “I bagged a bridesmaid because after more than ten years, she finally didn’t have a boyfriend.”

I laugh and give him a hug. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he says as he lightly strokes my back.

I pull back to face him. “You know, I
could
turn this around and say I bagged a groomsman.”

“I can handle that. I like the sound of that.”

“I nailed him. He was bagged and tagged. Locked and unloaded. I was the one in control.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Jay jokes.

I point to him. “You know how else I am going to be in control?”

“How?”

Okay, Mel, are you really going to do this? If you’re really going to do this, now is your moment. You’ll never have the guts to tell him this once he leaves.
I take a deep breath.and declare “I’m accepting your offer. I’m coming to see you in Paris.”

Judging from his smile, he seems genuinely delighted. “Great. When do you want to come?”

I decide to go for broke. “How about next week?”

Aw, why did I do that? Now I am going to completely freak him out.

He seems surprised, but unfazed. “Great. Can we please make it any day after Tuesday?”

“Sure.” Then I can’t help myself and ask suspiciously. “Why Tuesday?”

“Have to get the Swedish twins out of my house.” Re: my jaw involuntarily dropping, “I’m kidding! I swear, I’m kidding. I just want the maid to come before you get there. That’s all.”

“So I really can come?”

“Over and over again.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Well, six of one…”

T
HIRTY
-
ONE

Five days later, everything was different. Seema and Scott were on a safari in Tanzania, Jay was back in Paris, Jeff was back in Maui, Nic was at home with her new baby, and I was wondering if I was out of my goddamn mind.

“What the hell am I doing in New York?” I exclaim to Nic over the phone from a bar at Kennedy airport. “I am out of my goddamn mind!”

The cheapest fare I could get to Paris for that Thursday had a connecting flight through JFK. Which wouldn’t be so bad, except that I’m here for four and a half hours. Just enough time to have nothing to do in the airport, but not enough time to grab a taxi, see the city for a few hours, go back through security, and be at my gate in time for the next flight.

I’ve decided to use this time productively, and by that I mean completely freak myself out.

“Okay, so I got laid at a wedding,” I continue, taking a healthy sip of a glass of wine. “Big deal—happens to maids of honor all the time. They don’t go half-cocked to the other side of the planet for a booty call!”

I see a nice-looking man a few seats away crack up a little as he reads his book. Pretty sure he’s laughing at me.

“Okay, I wouldn’t normally say this a few hours before a man is seeing you naked, but are you anywhere near a box of doughnuts?” Nic asks.

“I also should have taken business class. There were some nice business seats for only twenty-two hundred dollars more each way.”

“Do you have twenty-two hundred dollars more each way?”

“Of course not. My God, do you realize I am literally traveling halfway around the world for sex? How pathetic is that?”

It takes me a minute to notice Nic hasn’t responded. “You’re not saying anything. Is it that pathetic?”

“Huh,” Nic spurts out, sounding startled. “Sorry. I think I fell asleep for a second there. What did you say?”

“I said I’m out of my mind,” I repeat calmly. “What was I thinking?”

“You’re thinking a handsome man who lives in Paris invited you there, and that it was time to use your damn passport.”

“I should have just married Fred when I had the chance. Gotten it over with.”

“Now you are out of your fucking mind. He cheated on you every chance he got.”

I shrug. “Every relationship has its issues.”

“And what does that even mean? ‘Gotten it over with’? What exactly are you getting over?”

“Dating. If I had just gotten married when the opportunity presented itself, I’d be done now. No flying to the other side of the planet for sex. If I wanted sex, I’d just roll over and tap someone.”

The good-looking man near me tries to suppress a laugh. Since he’s reading a book, I hope he’s laughing at the book and not me.

“Yeah. That’s why we get married,” Nic says, yawning, as she rocks her new baby softly. “All the easy sex.”

“And the being done.”

“Yes. It’s just one giant finish line over here.” She yawns again and closes her eyes.

“Maybe I should quit my job.”

“In this economy?” Nic asks with closed eyes.

“Okay, I have to move. Maybe I should move to the Westside. Or maybe I should run for political office. Or take up knitting. Or rescue a dog. I don’t know—something.”

“You’re going to France for sex. That’s something.”

“It’s crazy.”

“True. But it’s something.”

I shake my head. “It’s not enough, and it’s temporary, a few weeks at the most. I need to make a change. A concrete, long-lasting change.” I take a moment before I say the next words out loud. “What I’m doing day to day is not how I want to spend the rest of my life. You have the baby and your family, Seema has Scott. I don’t have any responsibilities yet. And if I don’t do something different now, I don’t think I ever will.”

Nic opens her eyes. She seems to have really heard me. She nods. “Okay. So what should be different? How do you want to spend the rest of your life?”

I sigh. “I have no idea. According to the charm I pulled, I’m gonna make a lot of money. Maybe I should start by playing the lottery?”

“I wouldn’t read too much into that charm. My experience with those charms is that they’re never what they appear to be. I think my charm was right—I am leading a wild nightlife. Meaning I no longer sleep at night.”

“You’re only in day four.”

“Don’t remind me. I didn’t sleep during the month leading up to when he was born because I got up every twenty minutes to pee. So I was ridiculously overtired before I even started day one. I promise you—God is a man with a twisted sense of humor. No woman would do this to her bitches.”

“Do you want me to come home and help?”

“Absolutely not. Jason’s mom is here now, and my mom’s coming next week. You go have your sex. I do think I better get the baby into bed though. He’ll be up in less than three hours for the next round of breast-feeding.”

I smile and say softly, “He’s a really cute baby.”

I can hear the smile in her voice when she says, “Yeah, he is. Thanks.”

There are so many things I want to say: how terribly lucky she is. How desperately I want what she has. How much I admire her for always having her life so together. Instead I just say, “Promise you’ll call me if you need anything.”

“With the eight-hour time difference, you’ll be the perfect person to call during the two
A.M
. feeding. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

“Now go have sex with someone while you still have a taut tummy.”

I laugh. “Will do.”

And she’s off.

I click off my phone and kill time by checking for texts, phone messages, and e-mails.

The cute blondish dude a few seats away from me looks up from his book. “If it’s any consolation, I’ve flown across the country for sex.”

I think about that for a minute. “Not quite as crazy, since it doesn’t require a passport. Plus, you’re a guy. It’s different.”

“In what way?”

“You are the man—you are the aggressor. Society decided a long time ago that your team makes the passes and rushes yards to get a touchdown. My team, on the other hand, plays defense.”

He nods, smiling at my wording. “I do make a lot of passes.”

“Therefore, it’s way more pathetic as a girl.”

The guy laughs and points to the empty seat next to me. “May I?”

“Sure,” I say, moving my purse over.

He closes his book and takes the seat beside me. I jut my chin toward the book. “What are you reading? Is it any good?”

“Something called
Six-Word Memoirs
. My mom gave it to me for the plane.”

“Ahhh, your mom. That explains why it’s an actual book, you know with paper and binding.”

He laughs again. He laughs easily, I like that. “Indeed. After finishing it, I plan to listen to a mix tape on my Walkman.”

I look at the cover of his book. “I’ve heard about
Six-Words
. My friend is doing an ar—” I stop myself. Although I love Scott, and I know he’s successful at his job, somehow saying
My friend is doing an art installation based on its premise
sounds pretentious as hell to me. So I bend the truth a bit. “My friend was teaching my class about it for a project.”

Handsome dude rests his face on his left hand and focuses all of his attention on me. “Cool. Are you a writer?”

“Teacher.” I think about that and awkwardly correct myself. “Or at least I was until this past June. I taught math.”

He nods. “And what do you do now?”

Crap. I have just discovered a more diabolical question to have to answer than
Why is a girl like you still single?
“It’s a long story,” I evade.

He checks his watch. “Well, I’ve got about an hour. And you, from what I understand, have about four and a half hours until you’re off to Paris.”

My eyes widen. “Were you eavesdropping?”

“We’re the only two people in the bar, and I’m reading a book my mother gave me. Of course I was eavesdropping.” His eyes twinkle. “You’re very fun to listen to, you know.”

I smile and look away from him shyly for a moment. “Why is it the charming ones are always only around for an hour?”

“Because it’s easy to be charming when you’re only on deck for an hour.” He points to my wineglass. “What are you drinking?”

“Wow. Okay,
that
is charming.”

“What is?”

“‘What are you drinking?’ Not ‘Can I buy you a drink?’ More of an observation: ‘I have noticed that your glass is getting empty, and I would like to take care of you.’”

Blondie smiles and looks up at the ceiling for a moment. “Thanks. I think. So what are you drinking?”

“Cabernet.”

He looks at the bartender. “Kyle, can you get us a bottle of your best cabernet and two glasses?”

I point to his pint, now empty, save the beer foam. “Oh, but you’re drinking beer. I don’t want to—”

“Nonsense. I get to be charming for an hour. What man can resist that opportunity? So, you wanna tell me about the guy?”

“Yes. But first, can I ask you a personal question?”

“When I was sixteen,” he answers immediately.

I laugh a little. “No. What’s your name?”

“Ben.”

As Kyle the bartender uncorks our cabernet, I put out my hand. “Hi, Ben, I’m Mel.”

He shakes my hand. “Mel. Short for…?”

“Not telling. Too much fun to be a woman of mystery—if only for an hour. So, you want to tell me about the girl?”

Ben looks confused. “What girl?”

“The girl you flew across the country to have sex with.”

“Oh, her! Nothing to tell,” he says, shrugging. “College sweetheart. We ran into each other at a reunion. She invited me to visit her, I flew out, disaster ensued. You?”

“I’ve had a crush on him since I was eighteen. Saw him at a wedding last weekend, he invited me to Paris, so I’m going. Do you think I’m crazy?”

“You know, I might not be your best judge. I wish you luck though.”

“Thanks.”

Kyle finishes filling our glasses and places the bottle between us. Ben raises his glass for a toast. “Here’s to doing crazy things in our youth in search of love, and even crazier things in our old age once we’ve found it.”

I smile, and we toast.

“Do you believe in fate, Ben?”

“I’m gonna go with no.”

I nod slowly. Right. He’s right—I knew that.

Ben points to me. “I’m assuming you’re going somewhere with this though, so continue.”

“I went to this bridal shower for my friend—”

“And you got depressed because it wasn’t you.”

“Why does everyone assume a single woman can’t be happy for her engaged friend?”

“For the same reason I couldn’t be happy for my college roommate making five million dollars before he turned twenty-eight.”

“Software?”

“What else could have made that kind of money so quickly? Seriously, he had been out of school for less than six years. Who does that?”

“I hear that. But in the case of
my
friend, I am actually very happy for her. That wasn’t my point.”

Ben gives me a doubting look. I make a show of rolling my eyes. “Okay, I wasn’t as happy for her as I should have been, but that’s still not my point. My point is we did this cake thing at the party, and this charm told me I was going to make a lot of money.”

He furrows his brow, confused. “I’m sorry, wait. It
told
you?”

“Yeah … Well, it’s kind of like the charm you pull is supposed to symbolize your fate.”

He nods slowly, still not getting it, but continuing to be charming for my hour. “Okay, so it’s like an augury?”

“Yes!” I say, raising up my hand and pointing to him excitedly. “It’s like an augury. Do you believe in auguries?”