What Love Looks Like (21 page)

        
“Is
there some timeline I should be following?” he asked sarcastically. “I’m just
going with the flow, and I’d love if you and Luna were here a few nights a week
when I got home. With my late hours and you living all the way downtown,
there’s no other way for me to see you as often as I want to.”

        
I
was speechless. I wanted to see him more too, but rushing into a relationship
was how I got burned the last time.

        
“Really,”
he said, nodding. “It’s no big deal. It’s just a key, Elle.”

        
I
sat in shock, unable to believe that Ryan Adler was offering up a key to his
home for me to use at my leisure.

19

 
A
breezy June ripened into a scorching July, and by the fourth our coworkers were
well aware that Ryan and I were an item. Even Penny got a hold of the information,
and try though she did, she couldn’t find anything in the handbook that
indicated that employees at the same level were prohibited from dating one
another. Perhaps it would have been different if one of us had been subordinate
to the other, but it appeared we were free and clear of any consequences.

A few nights
each week, Luna and I made a thirty-minute trek to Ryan’s place in New Albany.
It was a refreshing change from the grimy, hectic city block I lived on. New
Albany was quaint, reminiscent of somewhere in Northern California. The grass
was always a brilliant green, and the sun seemed to perpetually shine. Ryan’s
more mature and peaceful way of life was a beacon of hope for me. I was getting
closer to the life I wanted. He offered me solace from everything I’d been used
to for so long: the bad dates, addictive relationships, and lonely nights that
had forced me to lower my standards. On top of that he was a wonderful
boyfriend—thoughtful, full of life, and trustworthy.

We spent humid
summer nights sitting on his back deck, smoking the occasional joint or
drinking white wine with the dogs at our feet. It was pure harmony. We went out
to lunch every Sunday and then lounged into the evening watching movies, going
swimming, or just taking long hikes together with Woody and Luna. We spent
every spare minute together, which was an interesting feat for two people who
worked so much. It was a full one-eighty from any relationship I’d had. There
was no fighting, name-calling, deceit, or insecurity. I felt as if I were
breathing new air—clean, untainted air that I never knew existed.

Late in July,
Ryan took me to the northernmost point in Ohio, where his father lived on the
lake. He had a modest dock, which was private with its own breakwater. It contained
a twenty-five-foot yacht and two old Wave Runners. Ryan’s predicament was
similar to mine in that he had so little time to see his family. But his father
had been pestering him for a visit, and Ryan thought it would be the perfect
opportunity for me to meet his dad. Mr. Adler was a brawny fellow, not unlike
his son. He’d been married for twenty years to his second wife (his mom lived
at the opposite end of the state in a small farm town bordering West Virginia).

Ryan’s
stepmother was a stylish woman in her sixties named Julia. She had a warm air
about her, and the day we visited she packed a cooler full of wine and snacks
for our afternoon on the boat. Ryan helped Julia and me onto the boat and
helped his father push it off the dock. It was probably the first time I’d ever
seen Ryan in his element. He’d never mentioned that he loved boating before,
but it was easy to see how much pride he took in the hobby he shared with his
father.

        
“Did
you grow up here?” I asked him.

        
“I
lived here until I was ten, then my parents split up. But I still love the
water.”

        
“You
never mentioned boating before.”

        
“It’s
not often that I get on the old boat.” He nudged his father in the shoulder.
His father was shorter than he was, but there was a slight family resemblance
despite his father’s white hair and lined skin. He was a handsome man and
tremendously friendly, a real salt-of-the-earth type of guy.

“Ryan used to
come up every other weekend until he got that big fancy job,” Mr. Adler said
proudly. “Now he makes the big bucks, so no more time for old Dad.” He nudged
Ryan back. Ryan chuckled a little.

        
It
was a magnificent day on Lake Erie, and the water looked azure from our spot a
few miles out from the shore. We cruised along the shore ogling the lakefront
mansions, all with docks, private beaches, and boats of their own. I imagined
how incredible it would be to wake up and see the lake every morning. If only I
weren’t living paycheck-to-paycheck and wasting all of my time behind a desk.
Maybe I’d really be able to create something big and afford to buy a lake house
of my own one day. Julia poured me some white wine, interrupting my thoughts. I
hadn’t asked for it, but apparently I looked as if I needed it.

        
“So
how long have you and Ryan been seeing each other?” she asked.

        
“Just
a couple of months now.” I smiled at her.

        
“That’s
wonderful. I was worried about him for a while.”

        
“Oh?
Why’s that?”

        
“That
other girl broke his heart. And he worked nonstop to take his mind off it,
practically to the point of exhaustion. I’m just glad to see him with someone
so sweet. He hasn’t brought anyone to meet us since her.”
     

        
Ryan
had said his last relationship was almost five years ago; I couldn’t believe he
hadn’t seriously dated anyone in all that time. The whole thing must have
really shaken him. It made me want to take care of him even more. He deserved
to be nurtured and looked after. His heart was so big, and he never complained
about anything. Thanks to Ryan, my life had taken on an innocence that I’d once
thought was reserved for my parents’ generation. And for that, I wanted nothing
more than to look after his heart.

        
“Please
don’t hurt him,” Julia said. It wasn’t a malicious plea, but a sincere one.

        
“I
don’t intend to.”

        
Come
August, Ryan (along with everyone else in Columbus) was in full-throttle
Buckeye football mode. While I’d been born and raised in Columbus and was the
child of Ohio State alumni and was an alumnus myself, I was never a sports fan.
Maybe that was because going to high school sporting events for me would have
been social suicide. So while everyone around me had Buckeye fever, I’d always
managed to avoid games and never wore any sports paraphernalia (high school
aside, sporty attire just wasn’t my style).

        
Ryan
wouldn’t hear of my not supporting his team, though. Since getting together,
Buckeye football was the only thing he pressured me about. He wanted me to
share his passion for it, and to wear some hideous bright red T-shirt with my
alma mater’s logo on it. He’d even bought us second-row seats for the opening
game against Marshall, and accordingly he made me watch
We Are Marshall
the night before. It didn’t bother me, though; I
admired his enthusiasm. The morning of our first game together he presented me
with a vibrant scarlet T-shirt, which I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at.

“Get over
yourself, Coppola! It’s not always about looking good—sometimes it’s
about letting go and having fun and supporting your team!”

        
He
was fired up for the game. He was also head-to-toe in Buckeye attire. I could
never have imagined Jay dressing that way, which highlighted the differences
between them. Jay was like a movie star in the way he dressed, the way he
carried himself, and the effect he had on people.

        
“Fine,”
I said.

        
I
removed my silk tank and changed into the T-shirt. Ryan applauded, and as much
as I didn’t want to wear the shirt, I was glad to make him happy. After parking
we walked about a mile before we actually got to the stadium, and Ryan had the
foresight to bring chilled white wine in cups so we could sip while we walked.
We even stopped on the side of the road for a slice of pizza about halfway
there. I marveled at how uninhibited I could be around him. I don’t think I
would have ever had pizza in front of Jay, nor would I have sipped wine from a
cup, or worn flip-flops, cutoffs, and a T-shirt.

When we finally
reached the stadium and found our section, I was overwhelmed at the sea of
scarlet and gray in the stands. Everywhere I looked there were Buckeye fans in
their team’s colors. The seating attendant must have noticed the shock on my
face because she asked if it was my first time at a game as she showed us to
our seats. Ryan laughed and said that I was a Buckeye virgin. Our seats were
incredible, and I could follow the game to some extent, though getting the
rules down didn’t come easily. The game was a blowout, with the Buckeyes
victorious forty-one to three. As we strolled out of the stadium, Ryan’s arm
draped around my shoulder, I told him that I genuinely enjoyed the game. His
face lit up, which made me dance inside. He was so easy to please, almost
childlike in his excitement over certain things.

Late in August,
my dreaded twenty-ninth birthday had finally reared its ugly head. I hadn’t
made a big deal of it to Ryan because I genuinely wasn’t looking forward to
celebrating. I asked him to just keep it low-key, which he agreed to, though if
he’d had his way he would have had some fancy dinner in my honor with champagne
and all sorts of chilled seafood. I begged him not to make a fuss, and after
days of going back and forth he finally agreed to let it go.

One celebration
I did allow, however, was lunch with Maureen. Twice every year we actually left
the office to eat out (the other time was for
her
birthday). Over margaritas and nachos at my favorite Mexican
restaurant, she gave me a new bottle of Stella McCartney perfume and a homemade
card from her daughter, which brought tears to my eyes.

        
“Any
plans with Ryan for your birthday?” she asked.

        
“No.
I told him not to make a big deal of it.”

        
“Why?”

        
“Because
I’m getting old.”

        
“Don’t
be ridiculous.”

        
“Well
okay, not
old
old, but old to be
unmarried with no kids and in a shitty job.”
 

        
“I
think things are going to change for you before you know it,” she said with a
wink.

        
Later
that evening, I felt a little disappointed that Ryan had respected my wishes
and not made a fuss over my birthday. As much as I hated being the center of
attention, it was always nice to feel that people in your life cared about your
milestones. When flowers arrived, my heart skipped a beat. But when I saw that
the card attached was from my parents, I returned to a state of mild regret for
insisting that he not make a fuss.

Ultimately, it
didn’t matter, though—I was happy to spend the night alone with Luna.
Things were mostly going well, and I was striving to adopt Ryan’s habit of not
complaining all the time. He shot me a text around eight thirty asking how my
night was going, and I was pleased to know that even while he was slammed at
the restaurant he was thinking of me on my birthday.

It’s going fine. Just watching TV, not doing
anything crazy tonight
, I wrote
back.

        
Well, I just realized that your birthday
present is in my car. Why don’t you come down here and have a drink so I can
give it to you
? He suggested.

        
It
was a nice gesture, but now that everyone at work knew we were together, I
didn’t like spending too much time at his bar during business hours. It seemed
desperate to sit there, waiting for him to get off work, as though I had
nothing better to do. Of course I really
didn’t
have anything better going on, but not everyone had to know that.

        
I can wait until Sunday
,
I said.

        
Just
come down. It’s two minutes away from you. You’re going to love the gift, and I
can’t wait to give it to you.

I considered going
down to see him. Would it really look that desperate? Chances were that I’d
know a few of the people at the bar and would be able to mingle until Ryan got
off work. And I had a brand new Pavonine dress from Rowe that I wouldn’t have minded
showing off. What was the harm in a little birthday champagne? I’d been lying
around in yoga pants and a tank, which was not remotely acceptable for an
evening at East Coast Prime. I slipped on my new white dress and a pair of nude
pumps. I quickly applied some bronzer and eye makeup and headed downstairs and
walked a block to the restaurant, where for a change I used the front entrance
of the restaurant instead of the rear.