And then it was here.
I had never been so afraid as I was on opening day. Afraid that no one would show up, that no one would care. That the clothes on the racks wouldn’t move, that my cash register would stay closed, that the finger foods and champagne I had put out wouldn’t even attract random people walking past.
I felt like all that work, all those dreams, were resting on that single day. Of course, it’s more than that. The day went fine – people showed up, they drank my cups of champagne and cheap appetizers. Clothes were bought. My window displays were admired. I was congratulated. It wasn’t the opening day of my dreams but it was the opening day of the start of my dreams.
That was something.
Linden and James had come of course. Linden brought his girlfriend.
Yeah. Girlfriend.
Nadine Collingwood.
I still don’t really believe it, despite meeting her already. She’s lovely, which surprised me, and seemingly normal. The line-up of ladies Linden has had over the years all seemed to be the same – tall, achingly thin with long, lean limbs, shampoo-commercial worthy blonde hair, fake smiles full of veneers. The opposite of me, really.
And Nadine is nothing like that either. She’s average height and while she’s thin, she’s also athletic, with straight red hair and a smattering of freckles on her milk-colored skin. She dresses in jeans and flannel shirts, nothing very fun but it suits her tomboy style.
She looks Scottish when you think about it. Maybe Linden misses his home country. He’d only moved over to the states in high school when his father got a job at the United Nations in New York.
He seems happy though. I’m happy for him. Really, I swear I am. And she’s nice too, which means she’s going to treat him well. I guess now that we’re getting older he’s starting to see the appeal of settling down, you know, with someone who isn’t me.
Maybe that pact of ours won’t be needed after all. Maybe it’ll just be me, single at the finish line while Linden and Nadine go on to have an extravagant wedding and mini Gerard Butlers.
A knock at the store window brings me out of the disgustingly sweet wedding taking place in my head. I look over and see James waving at me from the other side. He holds up a large tote bag full of stuff and smiles sheepishly.
I walk over to the door, curious. I was supposed to go home an hour ago and get ready for the night – James supposedly had something planned at The Burgundy Lion – but time had slipped through my fingers. It was doing that a lot lately. Sometimes I never even left the store until ten o’clock at night.
I unlock the door and am met with a cool breeze off of Sutter. The fog is starting to roll in and the tops of the buildings across the street are disappearing in its wash.
James smiles brightly as he peers down at me. “I thought you’d still be here.”
I’m a bit surprised still to see him but I open the door wider and gesture him to come inside. “I know, I’m sorry. One day I’ll get the hang of closing. Or I’ll just get successful enough to hire employees to do it for me.”
He comes inside. He smells like rain and his shoulder-length black hair is wet, sticking to his neck and the collar of his denim jacket.
“Raining up top?” I ask. He lives in the Haight, near Golden Gate Park, where the weather is always a bit different than down below.
He nods and strides across the room with his long legs before he sets the bag down on the counter, right on top of all my paperwork.
“So what’s all of this?” I ask him, folding my arms.
He reaches into the bag and pulls out a bottle of red wine, the expensive French kind with all the fake dust on it, a plaid blanket and a few small plastic take-out boxes. “This is your birthday.”
I frown. “I don’t understand.”
“Linden is with Nadine. They aren’t coming,” he says and then eyes me carefully.
“What?” I say, feeling a stab of hurt in my gut.
He raises his brow at my reaction. “She might have appendicitis. They’re at an urgent care clinic getting it checked out.”
“Oh,” I say, feeling the hurt turn to guilt. “God, that sucks. Is she okay?”
He shrugs. “Probably not but I’m sure if it’s a problem, they’ll just take it out. So it’s just you and me. I thought this might be a lot more fun than being at the Lion.”
I eye what seems to be the workings of a romantic picnic. Never in our dating had James ever done something as nice as this for me. I have to wonder what’s going on now to change all of this.
Also I’m not really sure if being alone with him is more fun that being at the Lion.
“Don’t look so suspicious,” he admonishes and looks away, troubled. “It’s your birthday, isn’t it? I can do something nice for you.”