Wanderlust (17 page)

Monica

The thin pull-out mattress sank under his weight. I could feel the warmth from his body and smell his cologne. It took some serious willpower not to simply snuggle up against him and rest my head on his chest. Instead, I shifted back so that I could look him in the face.

I held his gaze for a long time.

I could tell he was serious—or at least, he thought he was. His green eyes gazed steadily into mine. He was talking about a huge step, especially for two people who hadn’t had a real relationship in almost a decade. I knew he had no idea what he was getting into.

“Have you ever even been abroad?” I asked.

“I went to Cancun for spring break senior year,” he said. He sounded so hopeful, I felt my heart give a lurch.

“So, you do have a passport?” I asked dubiously.

“It doesn’t expire for almost two more years.”

“Okay, that’s good, but this … I mean, it’s a big change. We’ll be going to the developing world. It’s not all fancy hotels and air conditioning. It’s dirt roads and crowded buses and weird food. It’s not what you’re used to.”

A big grin split his face.

“What? I’m serious. You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

“Your entire business model is based on empowering women whose idea of hardship is doing their own dishes to travel in the third world, and you’re worried that I won’t be able to cut it. You’re seriously eroding my masculinity here.”

I laughed. “I have no doubts about your masculinity. It’s just going to be a big change. And we hardly know each other anymore. What if we hate each other?”

“I doubt we’ll hate each other. But here’s the deal. I’m going to bust my ass starting up a business of my own, and you’re going to be writing and working on your own business. We’re going to spend plenty of time together, but we’re going to spend plenty of time doing our own thing, too. And if it all truly goes to hell and we just can’t stand each other—which I highly doubt—my promise to you is that I will buy a plane ticket and head back to New York. My dad’s been trying to get me to move back there anyway.”

Ten years ago, we’d been sitting on the bed in my dorm room and he’d been begging me not to go abroad. Now he was begging me to take him along. Unable to think of anything to say, I took a sip of my tea and looked away. I couldn’t sort out where the excitement stopped and the fear began.

“Monica, I know it sounds crazy—”

“Well,
yeah
.”

“I
know
it sounds crazy,” he persisted, “but look, out of nowhere, we bump into each other in a coffee shop, neither of us are in a relationship, I’m looking for a new job in marketing, you’re looking to market your business, we both still like each other. It’s like … destiny or something.”

I laughed, maybe a little hysterically this time, and shook my head.
Destiny. Of course.
“We hardly know each other anymore,” I mumbled, for some reason feeling like I should be the voice of reason in this situation.

“No, we know each other better than anyone. We just haven’t spent all that much time together recently.” He brushed the hair out of my face, his fingers lingering a few moments longer than necessary. “I’ve never gotten over you. I’ve never stopped feeling bad about what I tried to do with you and Amber, and I’ve always wanted you to know. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you.”

“Not even your fiancé?” I asked drily. I should have left well enough alone, but I could feel my defenses activating in spite of myself.

He shook his head. “It wasn’t the same. She wasn’t a bad person or anything, we just weren’t right for each other. If we had been, we would have made it work.”

I finally turned to look him in the eye. “Maybe if
we’d
been right for each other, you’d have figured out a way to come to Paris with me.” I could hear traces of bitterness in my voice. Ridiculous to still be upset about this ten years later, but I knew we’d never get to a future together if I couldn’t put the past behind us.

“So maybe we weren’t right for each other then. We were just kids.
I
was just a kid, and I was stupid and immature.”

I sighed and shook my head. “This is crazy. There are so many reasons that this is a bad idea.”

“I mean it, Monica. I want to go with you. Even before I ran into you at that coffee shop, I was looking for a way out. And if there’s even a chance that it could be with you, I don’t want to risk losing it.”

“I’m leaving in two weeks. It’s just not enough time. Maybe you could meet me there in a month or two.”

He shook his head. “I’ll be on your flight.”

I stopped thinking of objections and looked at him, at his handsome face. He was trying to keep it together, but I could see a hint of desperation in his green eyes. I sighed again. “It’ll be expensive to book on such short notice, but I know an airfare site where you can sometimes get some great bargains, and if that doesn’t work, maybe we could try having you fly standby—” I broke off.

He was staring at me with a big smile.

“What?” I asked.

Jason chuckled and gave me a squeeze. “You’re already talking like it’s a done deal. It
will
be a big change, but if you’re willing to give it a shot, I am, too.”

I sat up straight again. The fear was changing slowly into excitement. To be on the road again—with Jason. To not have to give up traveling, to have someone by my side, someone who was good company, and supported my business, and who was just as excited about building his own business as I was. It was crazy. It was risky.

But it could work.

Jason

I could see all the different emotions crossing her face. Excitement, anxiety, anticipation. I tried to think of something I could say that would tip it once and for all in my favor, but I decided to stay quiet. It was enough that she was seriously considering it; I didn’t want to pressure her.

“Maybe. Let me just think about it for a bit,” she said.

“Yes,” I agreed, relieved that she hadn’t simply said no. “Very wise. Let’s sleep on it.” I paused for a moment. “Maybe I should go, then. Let you get some sleep.”

“No, stay. I mean, finish your drink at least.”

There was a long silence, which I filled by nervously taking a few more sips of my drink, while she sipped her tea pensively. Suddenly we both started speaking at once, then we stopped and looked bashfully at each other.

“Go ahead, you first,” I said.

She laughed. “I was just thinking how strange this is.”

“Yeah, I guess it is strange,” I agreed

“And I was thinking you should put your drink down for a moment,” she added.

I put my whiskey on the side table and she put her tea down at the same time. Empty handed, we sat staring at each other for a moment.

“And I think you should let me kiss you,” she whispered.

I smiled. We leaned toward each other and our lips touched in a gentle kiss that slowly deepened. For a moment, I waited for the memories to come flooding back, but instead, I was overwhelmed by the present moment, the scent of her citrusy perfume, her taste, the feel of her lips against mine. Eventually we broke apart and sat looking into each other’s eyes.

“Yes,” she said.

It took me a moment to understand what she was saying. I broke into a huge grin. “Yes? You really want to? You’ll let me go with you?”

She nodded, her smile wide and her eyes bright. “Yes. I really want you to go with me.”

“That was all it took, huh?”

She shrugged. “I would have said yes anyway. I just missed kissing you.”

We sat there for a moment holding hands and staring stupidly at each other, then at the same time, we started to laugh.

“I feel like we should go out and celebrate or something,” I said. “How ’bout it? You want to get dressed and we’ll go out for a drink or something?”

She laughed. “I do want to celebrate, but not now. I’m exhausted, and I’ve had too much to drink as it is. Besides, the snow’s coming down so hard, we’d probably get stuck in a ditch somewhere. Let’s stay in. Would you like some more whiskey?”

“Good, I’m happy to stay here. No, that was plenty of whiskey. You’re pretty generous with poor Stephen’s single malt.”

“He’s always teasing me about pouring too much. I guess I wasn’t cut out to be a bartender.”

“Good thing you have a brilliant career as a world traveler instead. And hey, nothing wrong with a little extra single malt. If I’ve ever needed it, it’s tonight.” I lifted my glass and took the last sip, then gently pushed her hair away from her face. “So what do you want to do?”

She smiled at me. “Right now, I just want to go to bed. Why don’t you stay? I want to just … watch the snowstorm together.”

I nodded. “I’d love that,” he said. Leaning toward her, I kissed her again gently.

She found me a guest toothbrush. When I got back from the bathroom, she had turned off all the lights except the one on the side table, and had climbed in under the covers. I quickly undressed down to a t-shirt and my boxers and crawled under the covers beside her. I was so excited and happy that I wondered if I’d be able to go to sleep at all, but I started to relax as soon as I lay down next to her and wrapped my arms around her.

“I feel like I’m forgetting to do something,” she murmured sleepily.

“Don’t worry about it,” I whispered back. “Whatever it is, we’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

*****

It was barely light out when I woke up. Soft, heavy snowflakes were falling outside the window. Monica was snuggled in my arms, and I could feel her breathing deeply beside me. A pullout couch had never felt so luxurious.

I stretched, and as I did so, she opened her eyes sleepily.

“Morning, gorgeous,” I whispered, hoping she hadn’t changed her mind. “We’re still going to Thailand, right?”

She laughed, and some of the night before’s excitement came back to me. “You really want to? I thought maybe the whole thing was just a dream,” she said.

“I can’t think of anything I’d rather do.” I paused to flash a smile at her. “Well, maybe one or two things.”

She smiled back at me. “I’m sure you’re thinking about coffee, right?”

“Right, coffee.”

“I’ll make some.” She slid out of bed.

“Are you always this chipper first thing in the morning?” I asked suspiciously.

“Buddy, if we’re seriously leaving for Thailand in two weeks, we have a lot of work to do.”

“Like what?”

“Well, figure out what to do with your stuff, sell it or store it or something. Buy plane tickets, of course. You’ll need some things like a good backpack, and we should be sure your immunizations are up to date. What’s your roommate going to think? Can you sublet or something?”

I sat up so I could see her over the kitchen counter as she fussed with the espresso maker. My life had felt like such a mess for so many months, but suddenly everything seemed to fall into place. “My roommate is dying to get rid of me so his girlfriend can move in. I’ve already gotten rid of most of my stuff, because I’ve been planning to go back to Long Island as soon as I got up the nerve to quit my job, which I already did. We’ll book the plane tickets after breakfast. I have no idea if my immunizations are up to date, and I don’t have a backpack, but at seven o’clock on a Sunday morning, there’s nothing I can do about it. I do have to call my dad and tell him I’ve flaked out on him once and for all, but it’s still only eight a.m. on the east coast, so that can wait a bit, too. So I’m going to go brush my teeth and maybe we can meet up here for coffee in a few minutes.” I winked at her and slid out of bed.

When I came back, there was a steaming mug on the side table. Monica had slipped back under the covers and was sitting up against the back of the couch, sipping her coffee.

I got back into bed next to her and tried some. “Delicious.”

“Wait till you taste the coffee in Vietnam,” she said. “It’s unbelievable.”

I studied her carefully. “Are you sure you’re okay with this? I don’t want to pressure you into taking me with you.”

She put down her mug and leaned her head on my shoulder. “When I say this is a dream come true, I’m not exaggerating. I can’t wait to go traveling with you.”

I leaned in and kissed her gently. She took the coffee cup from my hand and put it on the side table next to her. “Last night, I was thinking that I needed to do something, but I couldn’t remember what it was.”

“Did you remember?”

She nodded. “I was thinking about something one of my clients said.” She held out her left hand, the big emerald gleaming deep and mysterious on her finger. “Will you help me take this off?” She looked shy as she asked.

“Nothing I’d rather do.” I wrapped my hand around hers and, tugging gently, we slid the ring off her finger. She smiled at it and put it carefully on the side table next to her coffee.

“My hand feels lighter,” she said brightly. We looked at each other. Butterflies started dancing in my stomach and she took a deep, trembling breath. “I guess I’m officially single again.”

“But I hope not for very long,” I said.