“Jesus! Don’t move, you’re barefoot. I’ll sweep it up.”
“Please tell me this is a joke Jameson,” I beg.
“I wish it was but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. She’s just looking at it and asked me to go with her, and you too if you want to check it out,” he tells me. “And I told her as much as I love her I’m a grown ass man and don’t need to see my mommy on my birthday.”
I love how well he knows me to see the panic from the house news he can quickly make me smile with his silly comments.
“Oh, and she said a wedding gift from some out of state family delivered to her apartment today. She said you can stop by and pick it up during your lunch break if you want. She said she’ll leave it out on the table before she goes to work.”
“Wedding gifts already? Wow!” He knows how to make me forget the bad and look forward to the good. So many reasons I love him.
AT NOON SHARP I CLOCKED OUT for my hour lunch break to go to Marcie’s to get our surprise wedding gift. Not sure why it delivered to her apartment but I’m guessing it’s her family member who doesn’t know our new home address. I decided since I wasn’t far from work I would take advantage of the situation and watch TV and eat my lunch there. When Marcie doesn’t see me as Satan’s spawn she’s mentioned I am more than welcome to have lunch at her apartment even while she’s at work.
As I let myself in and walk through the short hallway I drop my lunch bag on the dining room table next to a large box stamped with ‘Fed Ex’ all over it. I don’t recognize the name on the return address label. They’re from New Jersey. It must be someone from Jameson’s family I’ve never met. I decide to wait on opening it until tonight when Jameson is awake.
I head in to the tiny kitchen to grab myself a glass and find something in Marcie’s refrigerator. She usually has a pitcher of Lipton iced tea made and I’m really in the mood for an ice-cold glass. As I have my hand on the refrigerator handle pulling it open, something catches my eye. I push the door closed and stare.
It’s an invitation to my “surprise” bridal shower. It’s in two weeks! Did she do this on purpose? Did she want to ruin my surprise?
I stare at the invitation details. I now know when and where it is, and that my mother and Lily are throwing it. Now I wonder if I should tell them or not. I’ll never know if it was intentional. I’ve learned from past issues with Marcie she is the queen of denial. There is no sense is wasting my breath saying anything to her.
“You’re a joke.”
June 7, 2003
I’VE BEEN LAUGHING TO MYSELF all morning over Jameson running around frantically making a big deal about leaving the house on time to go to my parents. For the time being I decided to keep it to myself about seeing the bridal shower invitation at Marcie’s. I’m enjoying this little moment of driving him crazy taking my sweet ass time putting on my makeup and changing my outfit multiple times.
As soon as we pull out of the driveway I tell him I’m craving an iced latte from Dunkin Donuts and I want to stop. Late morning on a Sunday, it’s going to be a mad house there and he knows it. The low groan that escapes his mouth is proof but at the same time lets out a little secret because he is a coffee addict. He’s the one who always wants to get coffee so his little aggravated growl is not in his nature.
I continue to mess with him for the first thirty minutes of the drive. Once we’re about a mile from the destination I’m not supposed to know about, I tell him.
“So, how many people are going to be at my shower today?”
“Huh? What are you talking about?” He tries his hardest to play dumb.
“The day your mom told me to come over on my lunch break to pick up that wedding gift; she had the invitation on her refrigerator. Kind of hard to miss.”
“Jesus Christ! She did?”
“Yup. I haven’t said anything to my mom or Lily yet to avoid any bloodshed at the shower. But just so you know, if they ask me if I knew I’m telling them the truth. It’s just ironic timing your mom asks me to come over to pick up a gift at her apartment on my lunch break and the shower invitation is big and bright on her fridge. She uses any excuse to come to our house to see you, and this time she has me come to her. Understand where I’m coming from?”
“She is unbelievable,” he says, with bright white knuckles gripping the steering wheel tighter and tighter. I feel bad for telling him. I’m not trying to make him feel bad or put added pressure on him but I’m not about to keep shit from him either. “Unfortunately I think your theory is right,” he confesses.