Finally, For Me Page 5

  I groaned, bringing the phone to my ear. "Hello," I said. This was the last person on earth I wanted to be at the other end. Except for maybe Marissa.

  "Hi Ben, how are you?"

  I could just tell by her voice that she had heard about Marissa and was fishing for information.

  "I'm good, how are you guys?" I asked, walking into my apartment.

  "Oh we're good here. We're actually making homemade pasta, if you'd like to come by?" Her voice was high and grating.

  I paused, groaning inwardly. "This wouldn't have anything to do with Marissa and I, would it?" I asked, clenching my jaw. My keys clattered as I tossed them on the glass table.

  "Oh honey, we were planning on inviting you to dinner already. But I did speak with Julie, and yes I'm concerned." Julie was Marissa's mother. She and my mother were exactly alike.

  I hadn't wanted to talk about my relationship with her. She had been convinced Marissa and I should be together from day one, despite anything I told her about us. Eventually, I just stopped telling her and answered any questions as minimally as possible.

  "Well there's nothing to be concerned about. We're just taking some space to think, that's all," I said, sinking down into my couch. I silently started looking around for the remote.

  "Now come on, Ben. There is reason for concern. She's been your girlfriend for almost four years, and she's just so lovely, and we love her family. I'd hate for you to mess up such a wonderful thing because you're dragging your feet." Ha, lovely.

  "Well maybe there's a reason I'm dragging my feet, mother," I spat out. Where was the fucking remote?

  I heard her groan into the phone. I could picture her rubbing her forehead. "And what possible reason could that be?"

  I sat silently, trying to choose my words. "Maybe we're not right for each other."

  Saying the words out loud made me grimace. I hadn't been able to admit that to myself before, and doing so hit me like a ton of bricks.

  "Oh you don't mean that honey," my mother cried.

  I didn't respond.

  "Just why don't you come over for dinner, and we can talk about it more."

  I sat around, looking at my empty apartment, still unable to find the remote. My first instinct was to go back to Lacey's, but I knew that wasn't the right thing to do. We were both in too vulnerable a position to get involved. I felt that if I stayed there alone, I may not be strong enough to stay away.

  "Fine," I sighed.

  "Good! We'll see you soon darling!"

  I hung up, just sitting still for a moment. I groaned, knowing that I was going to have to face what I was feeling, and it may not be pretty. I slowly brought myself up off the couch and headed out the door to the elevator. My finger hovered over the button for the twelfth floor. I forced myself to press the ground floor button. What was I doing? I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts and headed into the garage.

  My parents lived on the outskirts of the city. I drove into the winding private neighborhood, and through the gate leading to their driveway. The house was lit up, a mass of sandstone and windows. I could see my sister's car already parked in front in the circle driveway. My mood lightened a bit when I saw that; I hadn't realized she would be there.

  I walked in the front door, and I could hear people talking and laughing in the dining room.

  "Ben!" cried my sister Margaret. "It's so good to see you!" She ran over and gave me a hug.

  "You too Mag," I smiled. "How's school?"

  "So busy, but good!" She swatted my hand as I playfully rubbed the top of her head, her red hair standing up due to the static.

  "Good," I replied. Margaret was my younger sister, and was in her senior year of college. We didn't see each other often due to that fact. She was studying to be a vet, much to the opposition of my parents, who wanted us both to be lawyers. I had always tried to make my parents happy, whereas Margaret, or Maggie as she preferred to be called, had always marched to the beat of her own drum.

  "Let's eat," said my dad, pulling out his chair to sit at the table. He was a broad but short man, his hair now fully gray. Even on a Sunday night, he was dressed like he was at work, in a dress shirt and pants.

  I pulled out my usual chair, grabbing the bottle of red wine already opened on the table. I was going to need a drink to deal with the coming inquisition. My mother entered, carrying an over sized platter of pasta. "Bon appétit." She set the food down, brushing her thin auburn hair back behind her ears as she sat.

  We all dug in, the only noise in the room was of forks scraping the plates. I could feel a tension in the air. I saw my mother looking over at my father, trying to relay some unspoken message. He gave her a stern look in response. She cleared her throat, causing my father to cry out, "what is it Paula? Jesus, can we at least just enjoy our meal before getting into it?" Typical family dinner for us.

  My mother looked stunned, wiping the corners of her mouth with her napkin. "I just think we need to address the issue at hand before it gets too late." She spoke, picking up her fork and twirling it emphatically.

  "What issue?" asked Maggie, her mouth full from just taking a bite.

  "There is no issue," I interjected. "Marissa and I are just taking some time apart." That was it in a nutshell. No need to discuss it further.

  "What? When did that happen?" Maggie's face lit with surprise, the corners of her mouth threatening to turn up into a smile.

  I kept my head down. "Just the other day," I answered, twirling my fork on my plate.

  She sat there, no longer eating. "Because?" she prompted. I tried not to get frustrated with her.

  "Because she gave me an ultimatum," I responded simply, taking a bite, still not meeting anyone's eyes.

  "What did she say?" my sister asked.

  I groaned. "Just that she was staying with her parents until I decided to propose to her." I was feeling like coming to dinner had been a mistake. I wasn't in the mood. Talk about a complete one eighty from how my evening started, hanging out with Lacey.

  "Ok, so what are you going to do?"

  "He's going to pull his head out of his ass and go buy a ring," exclaimed my mother, her green eyes glaring.

  I turned and looked at her in disbelief. "Why are you so concerned?"

  "I just don't want you throwing your chance at a family away. Marissa would be a great match for you, is a great match for you! You're twenty-seven years old, it's time for you to settle down," she said with finality, bring her wine to her mouth.

  "I guess I wasn't aware I was knocking at death's door, at the ripe old age of twenty-seven," I muttered, bringing my focus back down to my plate.

  "Paula, Ben, enough," boomed my father. "There's no need to argue about this. Although I do think you'd be making a mistake letting Marissa walk away, you are a grown man, and you can make your own decisions. We will be here if you want to talk to us, but we will no longer be forcing the issue." He stood up, carrying his empty plate into the kitchen.

  I sat staring at a painting of fruit hanging on the wall, fuming. I hated hearing I was disappointing my father. He had worked so hard to give me all the opportunities possible. Ever since I was little, I had always admired him and wanted to please him.

  Ok, time to go. I downed the rest of my wine, stood up, and brought my plate to the kitchen.

  "Ben," my mother started, but I didn't care to stop and listen. I cleared the rest of my plate into the garbage, and headed toward the front door. I heard footsteps running up behind me.

  "Hey wait up," called Maggie.

  I stopped, turning toward her, her big brown eyes pleading.

  "Hey, don't let them tell you what's right. Only you know what that is," she smiled, brushing out a wrinkle in my shirt.

  I groaned, tilting my head back. "I know, it's just hard knowing I'm disappointing them, especially dad. And I haven't even made a decision. That's the purpose of this time, to think!" I laughed.

  "I know, I know. You just have to look inside and ask yourself what real
ly makes you happy. Once you do that, that giant boulder you've carried on your shoulders for the past twenty-seven years will lighten."

  I smiled down at my sister. I hated cutting our visit short. "You know me so well Mag," I said softly. "I'd better get going."

  "Ok, well if it's any consolation, I understand why you have cold feet," she said, smirking.

  "What's that supposed to mean?" I asked. Maggie and I didn't usually talk about things like this, her comment surprised me.

  "Oh nothing. Just that Marissa has never been my favorite. And that's all I'm going to say. Now you go, I'll handle the mess you're leaving behind here," she winked, pushing me out the door.

  "You're a saint," I laughed, heading out to my car.

  My head was swimming as I drove home. Were my parents right? Was Marissa the best person for me? A picture of Lacey flashed across my mind. I decided to go to the best place I knew to unwind, and talk to the man I knew could give me an objective perspective, Johnny.

  ********

  Lacey

  I felt such mixed emotions saying good night to Ben. I had genuinely enjoyed our evening together, and having the company helped me feel not so alone. But I knew he couldn't be more than a friend, at least right now. And if he decided to get engaged, then never. I groaned, walking into the kitchen. I needed this time to focus on myself, yet my mind was constantly filled with thoughts of him.

  I made myself tacos for dinner, annoyed with all the leftovers I had. Cooking for one was harder than I thought it would be. At least it's better than Lean Cuisine, I thought. After eating, I sat in my recliner, staring at the huge gap in the living room, feeling like it was mocking me. I felt restless. I tried texting my friend Angela, but she didn't respond right away. I literally starting drumming my fingers on the arms of the chair. I decided I needed to get out of the empty apartment, and get rid of this nervous energy before I went crazy.

  I quickly changed out of my jersey and into a black and white tank and heels, and headed to my only other place of solace, Johnny's.

  When I walked in the door, Shannon and Johnny were both behind the bar.

  "Hey Lacey, couldn't get enough of us, could ya?" laughed Johnny.

  "You know it!" I smiled, taking a seat. Was it bad to spend so much time in a bar? Fuck it, I thought, I was going through a rough time.

  "What'll it be?" he asked.

  "Oh, I'm thinking it's an apple martini kind of night," I answered. I needed something to distract me from my thoughts of Ben.

  "Ooh, make that two Johnny!" called Shannon, taking the seat next to me. "I just got off. Did you have a good night?" Her silver shirt sparkled under the lights.

  I smiled to myself. I did have a good night. A night better than I could have ever anticipated.

  "I did actually. I went shopping for a couch." I hesitated then finished, "with Ben."

  She whipped her head around to face me. "Ben Anderson? Why did you go couch shopping with him?" A smile started to spread across her face. Oh no, here comes the inquisition, I thought.

  "Well, he came in when I was working, and asked if I wanted company while I shopped. And I said yes," I smiled shyly. I didn't know why I suddenly felt embarrassed.

  "Oh my gosh! I thought he had a girlfriend," she said, looking upward.

  "Well he does, I guess. Apparently she gave him an ultimatum though, and is essentially demanding he propose." I felt guilty telling his story, it wasn't mine to tell. "Besides we just were going as friends. I like him, he's cool."

  She looked at me, smirking. She saw right through my facade. "Um, no. He obviously likes you! What guy offers to go furniture shopping with a girl he's not interested in?" she giggled. Hmm, she had a point. But no, I needed to stop getting my hopes up.

  Johnny came over with our drinks. "Here you are ladies."

  "Thanks Johnny," I smiled, hoping the discussion was over.

  "Guess who Lacey spent time with today!" Shannon cried. Apparently it wasn't. "Ben Anderson!"

  Johnny smiled, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Really? Well that's nice, Ben's a good guy."

  "It was just as friends," I defended, taking a drink. "I know he has a girlfriend or fiancée or whatever she is." I wasn't sure why I had a nasty taste in my mouth, talking about her.

  "Well that doesn't mean you guys can't be friends," he reasoned. There was that word "friends" again.

  "I know," I sighed, leaning my head in my hand, supporting myself with my elbow on the bar. "And friends are what I need right now."

  "See it's perfect! And we're your friends too, right Johnny!" Shannon bounced in her seat. I didn't know how she had the energy she did.

  "Definitely," he replied with a smile. "Well you girls enjoy your drinks, I'll check back in a bit." He walked over to the people at the other end of the bar.

  I desperately wanted to change the subject. "So do you have a boyfriend, Shannon?"

  "No one special right now. I'm a single lady," she giggled, wiggling her hand back and forth, imitating Beyonce.

  I figured that was her choice. She was blonde and had a perfect body; I was sure she could have any guy she wanted.

  I noticed she was almost done with her drink, and I had only taken a few sips of mine. I needed to catch up.

  "Let's do a shot!" she cried. She ran around behind the bar, grabbed the items for a lemon drop, and ran back over. I had never been a fan of taking shots. I didn't like the taste of straight liquor, but I didn't want to be rude. She was quickly becoming one of my closest friends here.

  "Ok," I said, forcing excitement. She poured the vodka in a glass, and handed me my lemon.

  "To being single ladies," she cheered.

  I took the shot, almost gagging as it burned my throat. I closed my eyes and bit down on the lemon, hoping the wave of nausea that had just washed over me would subside.

  "Oh, you're gonna have to get better at taking shots if you're going to be a bartender," she laughed. I searched for something else to chase it, but all I had was my martini. I guess that's better than nothing, I thought, taking a sip.

  I grinned. "Yeah, you're right."

  Shannon and I talked for a while about what to do in Forrester, good restaurants to try, where the best shopping was. We finished our first round and Johnny brought us another. Apparently employees didn't have to pay, a benefit I could get used to. Before I knew it, I was about to finish my second martini and Shannon was handing me my third shot.

  "Here lightweight! It's a Dirty Girl Scout, it's good," she said, forcing the small glass in my hand. The angel on my shoulder said, "um, Lacey, I think you've had more than enough," while the devil said, "go ahead! Have some fun, you deserve it!" I listened to the devil. I slammed my head back, taking the shot. I didn't need a chaser after this one, but I gulped the rest of my martini anyway.

  "Oh you're right! That was good one! You would never steer me wrong," I smiled lazily at her. I suddenly felt warm; I was sure my cheeks were bright pink.

  "Which is why your next drink is going to be a water," she said, brushing my hair out of my eyes, smiling. "You are such a lightweight!"

  "What can I say? It's a blessing and a curse. It definitely doesn't take much." I started to hiccup. "Oh no, I hate the hiccups!" I clasped my hands over my mouth, holding my breath, unsuccessfully stopping them. Hiccups were never a good sign. That usually meant I was a hop skip and away from getting sick.

  "Here Lace, here's some water," said Shannon, handing me a tall glass. "You're not feeling sick, are you?"

  "Nope. Not yet. I just wish these damn hiccups would go away!" I pouted, still puffing out my cheeks, attempting to rid myself of them.

  "Ok, well let me know if you do, I'll get you home," she smiled kindly.

  Suddenly, I felt a presence in the stool next to me. "Long time no see."

  I spun around and found myself facing Ben. His chestnut eyes were level with mine, and they looked strained. I was shocked; had he known I was here? Probably not, he comes here all the time. Focus!r />
  "Ben! What are you doing here?" I pushed my index finger into his chest, giggling.

  "I needed a drink," he sighed. "I had dinner with my family."

  I picked up my water, taking a big drink, my eyes wide. "Ooooooh, I see," I said exaggeratedly.

  "And how many drinks have you had?" he asked, smiling. Oh shit, was I that obvious?

  "Just two. But I also had a few shots," I said, looking up at him through my lashes. He looked so tense. I stopped myself from standing up and rubbing his shoulders. Although once I thought it, I couldn't get the picture of my hands on him out of my mind.

  "Yeah, I didn't realize our new bartender couldn't handle her drinks," teased Shannon.

  "I'm not drunk!" I exclaimed. "Just delightfully tipsy." I was drunk.

  "Delightfully tipsy, I like it," Ben laughed, a small amount of the tension lifting from his eyes.

  "Hey Ben, here you go," smiled Johnny, placing a martini in front of him.

  "Thank you, you read my mind."

  Shannon shuffled off her stool. "Well it's about time I head home. Are you going to be ok?" she asked me quietly.

  "Yeah, I've got my water," I replied.

  "I meant are you ok if I leave you alone with hot stuff?" she whispered, bumping me with her elbow.

  "Oh my gosh yes!" I hissed. "We are friends!" Actually, I was kind of glad she was leaving. I wanted more one on one time with him again.

  "Alright then. Well good night Johnny, Ben." She made her way out the door. I turned back to Ben.

  "Oh my gosh! My hiccups are all gone! You cured me!" I cried, putting my hand on his arm. I felt his muscles through his shirt. I felt a tingling sensation start to build down below. Was that desire? I hadn't felt that much with Mark, I thought.

  "Glad to be of service," he smiled coolly, taking a sip. I could think of other ways you could service me, I thought.