On Second Thought(21)

I concentrated on work as best I could for the rest of the day, but my  thoughts kept skimming to tonight. To the ring, that gorgeous,  glittering diamond. Eric and I had talked in the past about what kind of  wedding we'd have someday-fun and breezy with a great band, the kind of  wedding where people ate and drank and danced and hated to leave.

And then, the bliss of being married. I'd make sure we were the kind of  couple who hired a nice babysitter and still did fun things together. I  wanted at least two kids. Maybe we'd name a son Nathan, even. Or use it  as a middle name. Kate could be godmother, if Jewish babies had  godmothers. I glanced at Jonathan's door (closed) and Googled it. Yes,  they could have godparents. Perfect. Kate would be little Nathan's  godmother.

My eyes filled up with tears on that one, and I grabbed a tissue and  blotted them just as Jonathan opened his door, doing another office scan  for slackers. He looked pained at the sight of me but didn't speak.

At last, five o'clock came. We all left like little soldiers, except for Jonathan. He owned the joint, after all.

"Good night, Mr. Kent," said Rachelle, shooting me a wry look.

"Have a good weekend, Mr. Kent," said Deshawn, holding the door for us ladies.

"Bye, Mr. Kent," said Francesca, the bookkeeper.

"See you Monday, Mr. Kent," said Tanya.

"Good night, Jonathan," I said.

"Good night," he said, deigning to look up at us for the briefest instant before returning to his work.

Whatever. I had a dog to feed and hair to curl. The black velvet  fit-and-flare dress? Too wintry. The white dress with red polka dots?  Too Betty Boop. The green and gold? Too Christmassy.

I might just have to buy something new.

* * *

Le Monde was gorgeous, flickering with candlelight, the floor-to-ceiling  windows overlooking the Hudson. I wore a new navy dress with a wide,  pretty neckline and navy lace overlay and a pair of very high nude  heels. Creamy satin clutch (also new) and a gold bracelet on my right  hand. Didn't want the diamond to have to compete with anything.

"Your party is already here," the maître d' said, smiling at me. "Please, come this way."

As I wove my way through the tables, a familiar face caught my eye.

Jonathan, talking with an attractive woman. Dear God! A date? A sister?  His ex? A prostitute? A robot-companion? I'd text Rachelle the first  chance I got.

I paused at their table. "Hello," I said, smiling.

He looked up, nodded and went back to cutting his fish.

Nice. "I'm Ainsley. I work with Jonathan," I told his companion.

"Adele. Nice to meet you," she said pleasantly.

"I don't mean to interrupt."

"And yet you did," he said, tilting his head. Human contradicts her words through actions. Strange.

"Jonathan," the woman chided fondly. "Be nice."

"Enjoy your dinners," I said. Maybe he had Asperger's. Then again, he was generally rude only to me.

Didn't matter. There was my beloved, dressed in a gray suit, white shirt  and the red tie I'd bought him for Valentine's Day. Tonight, we'd be  engaged. I paused for a second, taking it all in. Taking in Eric.         

     



 

Sometimes, the image of him when we first met didn't match this handsome  adult in front of me. We'd been kids, after all. Then, his black hair  was longer and curly. Now it was cut short, and the black had a few  silver strands shot through it, though it was as thick as ever. He'd  broadened in the shoulders this past year, thanks to his cancer journey  and CrossFit regimen. But his eyes were the same, dark and thoughtful  and kind.

My guy. He stood as I approached.

"Hey, babe," I said, a happy lump in my throat.

"Hi," he said. He kissed me on the cheek. Didn't say anything about how I  looked, which was a little unusual. He almost always noticed a new  dress, and this one was killer-demure yet sexy, exactly the way you'd  want your wife to look.

"Thank you for thinking of this," I said, spreading the napkin on my lap. "It's good to get out after all the sadness."

"I still can't believe he's gone," Eric said. "Life will never be the same."

I suppressed a flash of irritation. While a true friendship between  Nathan and Eric might've developed, they were really just casual  acquaintances. We'd seen Kate and Nathan only twice during their  marriage-dinner at our house, dinner at theirs. (Theirs was better. On  top of everything else, Nathan could cook.)

"I talked to my sister today," I said, hoping to remind him whose life would really never be the same.

"How is she?"

"She's hanging in there. She's always been strong."

"Good, good. I've had to call on my own strength, too."

"Eric. I think Kate is probably suffering a little more than you are." I raised an eyebrow.

He blinked. "Well, I think no one is suffering more than anyone else. There's no measure. We're all in pain."

"No, Kate is suffering more. Mr. and Mrs. Coburn and Brooke and her  sons...they've lost their husband, son, brother, uncle. Let's not make  everything about you, hon."

"I'm just trying to say that I feel this deeply. Is that so wrong? And since when has everything been about me?"

I took a deep breath, remembering that tonight we were probably getting  engaged. "I'm sorry. Let's talk about something else, okay?"

"Fine," he grumbled.

I knew Eric was self-centered, the classic only child, son and heir of  adoring parents. It left a mark (or a crown). But he was also generous  and smart. He loved the life we'd built, loved our home, loved that at  company dinners, his bosses would chuckle and say, "That's a great girl  you've got there, Eric," because I knew how to work the crowd. He was  faithful, funny and kind.

Also, he was really good in bed. Did I mention that? Not that I had anything to compare it with, but yeah. He was.

The cancer...well, I was tired of thinking about it, but cancer had  scared him to death, despite all his positive affirmations. No one got  through an experience like that unscathed.

"Candy's column was pretty hilarious today," I said, and he brightened  and listened as I told about her advice to a woman with a horrible  mother-in-law (a problem I would never have). We ordered wine and  appetizers, and I made a point of being my best self, chatty and flirty,  to put him in the mood. From time to time, I'd glance over at my boss,  but he never glanced back.

It was in the middle of dinner that Eric finally got things rolling.

He cleared his throat and put down his steak knife-he always ordered  filet mignon. Every time. I was eating the lobster, which wasn't the  best choice, since my hands were a little buttery. Then again, the ring  would slide right on. It was also the best lobster I'd ever had,  succulent and tender, and the butter, my God, I wanted to drink it.

Using great self-control, I took one more bite of the lobster, then  subtly wiped my hands thoroughly on the napkin. Took a sip of water to  cleanse my palate for when Eric would kiss me, his fiancée.

"There's something I've been meaning to ask you," he said.

Oh, goody! My heart squeezed hard, then seemed to expand to fill my entire chest. Love, baby! Love.

"Really?" I asked, keeping my voice casual. He liked to surprise me, though he rarely pulled it off.

"Yes. But...well, I'm not sure how you'll react."

"Hmm. Give it a shot and see," I said, smiling. In about thirty seconds,  our fellow diners would see Eric on bended knee, would hear me say yes,  and maybe even Jonathan would be happy for us. Maybe he'd even smile,  though his face would probably crack.

"Okay," Eric said, taking a deep breath.         

     



 

Then...nothing. He just sat there, not smiling, not frowning, just looking at me.

Reach into your pocket, I mentally urged him, smiling a little harder.  Still nothing. "What is it, babe?" I asked. My smile was feeling a  little forced. Was he trying to remember a speech? He did love a speech.

"Um...okay." He sat up a little straighter. My left ring finger raised  itself in anticipation. He looked me in the eye, face serious, and said,  "I'd like you to move out."

Though my ears heard the words, it took a little longer for my brain to process them.

Was there a proposal in there somewhere? my brain asked.

No, I don't think there was, I answered.

What was the question again?

I'm not completely sure.

"Excuse me?" I asked. I was still smiling. My ring finger was still waiting.

"This is hard for me," he said. "But it's time. I'll always cherish our years together."

"What?"

"It's just that Nathan's death...it was so profound, you know? It was a message."

"Wait, wait, wait. Hang on one second." My thoughts were just a gray  blur. "Um...Nathan's death? What has that got to do with us? I mean,  besides the obvious."

"It was a message. To me. A very profound moment."

"No, it wasn't! He tripped and hit his head and died. That is not profound. That's an accident, Eric. The opposite of profound."