Chapter Twelve

 

<><> Miriam <><>

 

Would Chris really do that? Take me out to dinner? Why would he do that? Talking on the phone is one thing; it’s removed, distant, safe. Taking me to dinner is taking things to another level entirely. It’s an official public display of togetherness. Does he want more from me? Does he want, you know, that? I look at him, about to decline. The words are hovering on my lips, on the cusp of spewing out, but then I surprise myself. “Yes.” It’s as if another girl has elbowed me out of the way and taken over.

“Yeah? Great. Want me to pick you up around seven?”

I gulp, hoping he won’t notice. “Sure. I’ll be ready.”

“Alright then, it’s a date. See you tomorrow.”

“Night.”

His truck comes to life and revs as he backs out of the driveway, waving as he turns the wheel and takes off down the street. I watch as the Bronco rounds a corner and trails away from me and the reality of what I’ve just agreed to sets in like a terror. The scorching remnants of the day burn off, cooling into twilight as I venture into the backyard. Amongst the soil tunnels, craters, and large stones strewn everywhere rests the rudimentary beginnings of a pond, flowerbeds, and walkways. It’s coming together and we’re officially past the point of turning back. As I wander, I think about my feelings for Chris. I’m in too deep to turn back on that now too. My breath catches when I think about how I may have the chance to kiss him tomorrow. One thing’s for sure, his departure leaves me breathless and aching for more. Is this what it feels like to fall in love with someone? Even though I don’t know him well, I can’t stop thinking about him. He is mentally consuming every waking minute of my day.

I perch myself on the edge of the cement porch and pull out my phone. Every nerve in my body frays with giddiness and dread. How will I tell my friends? Maybe I should keep this a secret.

“Hey, girl. How was work?”

Here goes nothing. “Jacinta, you’ll never guess what I just agreed to do.”

“Take off to Vegas?”

“Ha, you’re funny. Chris asked me out to dinner.”

I hear the pause and then she surprises me. “Then I guess you’ll need a dress, won’t you.”

“That’s it? You don’t have words of wisdom, like 'Run for the hills!'”

“I saw this one coming a mile away. You light up when you hear his name, Miri. You can’t choose love, it chooses you.”

“How did you get so profound?”

“I’m an observer. Besides, your horoscope told me.”

“The all-knowing horoscope, huh?”

“It did. Are you excited?”

“Yes, but…”

“But?”

“But what does he see in me?”

Jacinta sighs. “Again with the personal insults. Miri, you constantly underestimate your assets. Seriously, girl, you’ve got it goin’ on. Why can’t you see that for yourself?”

“Because that’s not how I want to be defined. I have a brain.”

“Well, your brain rests in a pretty head and your pretty head rests on a superfine body. Look in a mirror once in a while. Get to know that side of yourself. I bet Chris has noticed other things besides your brain.”

I feel my cheeks get hot. “Can we talk about something else?”

“Nope. You’ve been wearing nothing but black lately and you need a change. Color is on the menu for you. Come over and I’ll set you straight. I’ll show you the dresses Tashelle and I bought in Canada a few weeks ago. You’re gonna love them.”

“Wait, won’t your sister have a conniption fit if her precious clothes are missing?” Jacinta’s younger sister, Tashelle, is curvy and a half-foot taller than her, resulting in some attention from modeling agencies. Tashelle’s entire world revolves around clothes and fashion. When I’m around her, I automatically feel like I’m Amish.

“Trust me, Tash will be all over this. She thinks you’re gorgeous. Besides, she’s here and she wants to help.”

“Okay. I’ll be over after dinner.”

 

 

Watching Jacinta rummage through her closet and throw garments over her shoulder in my direction, it dawns on me how much I’ll miss her when she goes away in September. I can’t fight the deep ache I feel at the thought of our separation.

“Thanks for doing this, Jay.”

She stops for a second, looks back and smiles. “You need help, girl. You’re my fashion charity case.”

I laugh because it’s so true. Beauty, intelligence, and good manners result in Miss Jacinta King, but she never hesitates to tell me just how it is. Her expectations are solid in all areas of her life. She has convinced herself that she’ll meet and marry the Jamaican boy of her dreams right here in America, so she’s saving herself. In the meantime, she lives vicariously through her friends and reads the daily horoscope like her life depends on it. Her entire world is entranced by it and she’s the most superstitious person I know.

“Should I even bother with all this? Seriously, I’d hate to be just another girl in Chris Loman’s path,” I say, knowing full well I want to go through with this regardless. I’m a big girl and I know how to handle myself, but still.

As if sensing the seriousness of my words, Jacinta comes over and looks me right in the eyes. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way Chris Loman’s been looking at you. It’s fine, Miri, you’re allowed to look back you know. Even if this is just having fun, who cares?”

“You don’t think he’s...”

“He’s what?”

“Beneath me, do you?” I cringe. “I know, it sounds so snobby. I can’t believe I said it out loud let alone though it in my head. It’s so wrong.”

“You have high standards. Nothing wrong with that.”

“You know what I mean though, right? Chris and his friends are so out of reach, so...”

“Bad? Yes, I’ve noticed.”

“The thing is, I’ve witnessed a completely different side of him, maybe even the real Chris Loman. He seems like a take charge kind of leader at work.”

“I think you should go for him.”

I lean back, a little shocked. He’s the last person I thought she’d ever suggest I ‘go for’. Still, it’s as if her words are giving my heart permission to consider the possibilities of Chris just a smidgen more than before.

“I couldn’t do that.”

“Why not? He’s really sexy. Come on, Miri, we just graduated. This is the last summer before College – before the real world.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call College the real world.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Jacinta, that’s my point. We just graduated. I have absolutely no time to date right now. With College in the fall and my mom’s cancer, I have to prepare for...” I stop, unable to say the words the possibility of her death, but Jacinta knows what I’m about to say and pulls me close, hugging me tight and then pulling me out to arms length.

“All the more reason to go for him. I can’t think of a more perfect, or hotter, distraction. You owe this to yourself, Miri. You really do. Now,” she inspects me from head to toe, “about your outfit. What the heck are you going to do without me next year?” Heading for the closet again, she emerges holding two different high heels, one canary yellow and the other black with straps. “You’ll have to come out to California for shopping excursions and I’ll set you right.”

“Sounds like a plan.” I watch as she considers which shoe I should wear. “You don’t actually think I should wear either of those, do you? I was thinking my black Toms with shorts and a white tee shirt. Maybe I’ll wear lipstick.”

Jacinta gives me the look, the one that implies I can’t actually be serious. “Tashelle!” she hollers. “Tashelle, I need you!”

Jacinta’s younger sister practically collides into the doorframe as she comes in, too busy staring intently at her phone. “What?”

“We have a situation here. Miri has a date, remember?”

Tash finally looks up. “Yeah? With who?”

“A hot boy with attitude. She needs to look edgy, yet sophisticated.” Jacinta holds up both shoes. “This is my inspiration for the outfit. Which one?”

“Yellow. No brainer. Pair it with that fitted emerald green jersey dress you got in Dallas last summer.”

“Yellow and green?” I ask, though they barely hear me. Are they subconsciously dressing me like a Jamaican flag?

“Earrings?” Jacinta asks, throwing the black heel back into the closet and walking toward her jewelry board. Endless pairs of earrings dangle down from the cork just waiting to finish off an outfit. “I was thinking these ones.”

“No, not with that dress. How about these ones?” Tashelle and Jacinta inspect the goods.

“Um, hello? Do I get a say in what I wear?” I sit on the edge of Jacinta’s bed, feeling useless.

The doorbell rings and then we hear it open. “Guys?”

“In here, Bay,” Jacinta shouts over her shoulder.

Bailey saunters in and flops down beside me on the bed. “What’s the situation?”

“You got my text then?”

“That’s why I’m here.”

“Chris asked Miri out. Fashion intervention.”

“He did not!” Bailey pushes my arm. “And you’re going?”

I nod, wondering if she’s pleased or appalled. I honestly can’t tell.

“She needs help,” Jay comments over her shoulder.

I sigh and sit up straighter. “This is getting insulting. I’m not that bad with fashion.”

“No, you’re not, but Tashelle is the best.” Bailey smiles kindly. “How did he ask you?”

“He was very polite and maybe even slightly nervous.”

“Did he ask you on the phone or in person?”

“In person.”

Bailey nods her approval. “Brownie points.”

Jacinta giggles. “There you go, girl. He really does like you. It wasn’t your imagination.”

I must mention that I’ve refrained from telling either of my besties about my late night chats with Chris over the past week. There is no shadow of a doubt that Chris likes me. The question is, what are his intentions?

“But just remember,” Jacinta digs around for the other yellow heel, “sometimes our imaginations can be the perfect substitute for the real thing.”

“Yeah,” Bailey cuts in, “all neat and tidy. This thing with Chris Loman seems…messy.”

“How?” I ask, maybe a little defensively.

“Donna. Remember her? She probably thinks they’ll get back together like they usually do. You’re a formality, girlie.” Bailey gives me one of her 'I don’t want to say I told you so' looks. My girlfriends are full of loaded looks. You learn to judge what an eyebrow raise or lip curl signifies without a single word.

“It’s not that messy. It’s just one dinner together. I’ll play it by ear.”

“Speaking of ears.” Tashelle walks over and holds a pair of dangly earrings up to me. “Yep, these are the ones.”

“So, we’re done?” I ask.

“Easy, right?”

“Thanks, ladies.”

Tashelle’s phone pings and her attention instantly diverts to the latest text.

“Who is it?” asks Jacinta.

“It’s him.” Tashelle’s face lights up, but with the second ping, her expression drops. “What the…?”

“Is he playing games again?” Jacinta clucks her tongue.

“Who?” I ask.

Tashelle sighs. “He can’t make it to the movies tonight. So now it’ll be three girls and two guys. Guess who the third girl is? That’s right, me. The one who doesn’t belong there.”

“What’s his excuse?” Jacinta demands.

“He’s having dinner at his Grandma’s and can’t make the early show.”

“So meet him for the late show,” says Bailey.

“She can’t. Curfew.” Jacinta’s words are firm and I notice Tashelle’s eye roll as I get up and walk to the closet to grab the green dress.

“His reason seems valid,” I say to reassure her.

“I guess, but it’s still annoying. I was looking forward to tonight and look at me!” Tashelle puts her arms out. “I’m already dressed and ready to go!” She begins a frantic series of texts.

“Her forehead looks like a ripple chip with all those grooves in it. Relax, Tash, or you’re going to need some serious plastic surgery when you’re older,” Bailey advises.

Tashelle exhales and leaves the room clutching her phone with thumbs flying.

Jacinta juts out a hip. “You know, I’ve been giving this some thought. Guys are dignity robbers.”

I smile at the absurd phrase. “Dignity robbers?”

“What’s that?” Bailey scrunches up her face, ignoring her own advice about future wrinkles.

“They steal your dignity, make you beg and grovel and chase them when it should be the other way around. I refuse to chase after a boy like some lovesick animal. Put me out of my misery before I let that happen. Pathetic.”

“Are you implying something?”

“No, but I think we can all agree that Tashelle’s a victim. My own flesh and blood, how sad.”

“She really likes him!”

“Bailey, no guy is worth losing your dignity over. Have I taught her nothing?”

“She’s not you, Jay.”

“Thank goodness. I’d never be that way about a boy. It probably turns them off, or makes them think they’re God’s gift. You’ve got to make them love you a little bit more than you love them. That’s how it’s supposed to work.”

“Says who?”

“I think it was Oprah or maybe Beyoncé. Can’t remember.”

Even if her comment is shrewd and uncalled for, it gets me thinking. Am I pining after Chris? Do I reek of desperation? I’m not that desperate, just intensely interested, there’s a difference. Besides, thinking about calling Chris constantly and wanting to track down where he lives and do a drive-by to make sure Donna Dividi isn’t over there is not the same as actually doing it. That would define a dignity robbery for sure.

“How does it look?” I ask, holding the green dress against me.

“Have to see it on...with the heels.”

Crap! I thought I could get away with taking it home and trying it on without the stares and assessments. No such luck.

“Strip, girl.”

My girlfriends are determined. Let the fashion prodding begin.

 

~ ~ ~ ~

 

At 6:45 p.m. the next day, Nunny King rings our doorbell. The sound makes me jump out of my skin because I assume Chris has arrived early. I’m so on edge. I’m wearing the dress, the earrings, and my make-up is done to the best of my abilities. My hair is down with minimal fuss, just tucked behind my ear. Simple. Opening the door, Nunny offers a big smile, a half hug since she’s carrying a bowl of food, and words of praise over my outfit. Walking past me, it’s only then that I notice Jacinta walking up the steps.

“Jay?”

“Yep. I’m here for moral support. That okay?” Her look is sheepishly apprehensive, like she’s not sure if I’ll be mad that she came over. “Don’t want to cramp your style by being in the way.”

“No, I’m happy to see you.”

Jacinta waltzes in and I shut the door, but not before one more hopeful glance down the street. No Bronco yet.

“He’ll be here soon. Better get your shoes on. Do you have your own money?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Good. Don’t want to give him all the control.”

I sigh. Jacinta…suffragette supreme…gotta love her.

After some animated conversation with Nunny, Mom, and Jacinta in the kitchen, I glance at the clock on the stove and realize it’s 6:59. Will he show? Will he be late? Will he…

The doorbell rings.

“Right on time!” Mom practically squeals in delight. “What a gentleman.”

I clamor toward the living room, but Jacinta grabs my arm. “Hold up.”

Turning, I’m confused. “What?”

“Make him wait a second, sweat it out.”

“Jacinta, you are too much,” Nunny laughs lightly at her daughter’s antics.

I, on the other hand, receive a rush of nerves and my throat gets tight. The request seems absurd. “I can’t keep him waiting. That’s rude.”

“It’s not about being nice, it’s about being in control.”

I shake my head and giggle. “Seriously? You’ve got to relax, Jay.” I skirt around her and head for the door. Opening it, Chris and I make eye contact and it’s magical. And then I feel a nudge as Jacinta comes up beside me.

“Miriam, you look amazing.”

“Thanks, Chris.”

I peer over and witness Jacinta narrow her dark brown eyes at him. Oh no, here it comes.

“You take good care of her, Chris Loman.”

Chris looks leery, but then cracks a warm smile. “Point taken. I promise to take care of her.”

“Good.”

“Hi, Mrs. Pritchard,” Chris says over my shoulder.

I turn and find that Jacinta’s not the only one making sure I get off safely. Mom and Nunny are all smiles as I say goodnight to my supportive posse and follow Chris out to the truck. He opens the door for me, a gesture that I’m sure Jacinta will approve of since they’re all watching us from the doorway.

“That’s quite a send off,” Chris comments as he hops into the driver’s seat. Pulling out of the driveway, he honks and waves at them, making me laugh. “They really care about you. That’s sweet,” he says as we drive toward downtown.

“Sweet or overbearing?”

“Sweet.”

I glance out the window, watching as my familiar city blurs by. For some reason, everything seems new tonight. Being here with Chris, in the enclosed space of his truck, it’s different than the last time I was here on our field trip to City Hall to get a permit. This is also way different than talking on the phone. This is face to face, nowhere to hide, no running away or making excuses to leave.

“Sun’s going down later now and it’s getting more humid at night,” says Chris. Maybe he’s nervous too, resorting to weather-related small talk.

“Yes it is.” Okay, I sound like a complete fool. I chance a glance at him and he’s looking at me. He smiles and looks back at the road. I linger on his face for a few seconds. He is off the charts beautiful, cleanly shaven and wearing jeans and a baby-blue button down with the sleeves rolled to the elbows. He has this really cool leather bracelet on his wrist and I can smell his intoxicating cologne. The shirt looks freshly ironed and the color makes his skin look even more tanned and his eyes extra blue/green. When he flashes them my way, it’s electric and I have to pinch myself that I’m even here. Why I’m second-guessing myself is a mystery, but I am. He can have any girl he wants and he’ll probably get tired of me after tonight…or after something else happens. Girls seem to throw themselves in his path; girls I would never choose to be friends with for various reasons. Feeling an attraction for someone like Chris, someone unexpectedly different from any boy I’ve ever imagined myself with, seems hopelessly counter-productive. Still, the butterflies have taken residence in my belly and are impossible to ignore.

“Did I tell you how pretty you look?”

“Yes, a few times. Thanks.”

“I mean it.”

I smile, not quite sure what to say about that. “Where are we going?”

“I made a reservation at Lombardi’s for 7:30. Is that okay?”

“Chris, that place is expensive. Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. You’re worth it.”

I take a look in the side mirror and, sure enough, I’m blushing. I roll down the window a bit to get some fresh air and pull myself together. This whole date thing is so incredibly nerve-racking! Part of me wishes we’d agreed to meet at Picorelli’s for pizza so the pressure would be off. To fill in some background noise, I reach out and turn on the radio. Big mistake. The second I push the button, music blares out of the speakers at a velocity I hadn’t expected. The high decibel heavy metal practically pushes me back against the headrest.

“Oh shit,” I hear Chris yell as he clamors for the volume knob. Finally finding it, he turns it right off and there’s this awkward little silence before we both burst out laughing. That’s one way to break the ice.

 

 

After opening the truck door, opening the restaurant door, and then pulling out my chair for me, Chris and I are sitting face to face. The waiter hands us our menus and I notice Chris sit up taller, as if preparing for the experience of being in a fancy place. I assume being here is new territory for him. As the waiter reveals the specials, which are practically impossible to pronounce, Chris and I have a stare-down. Chris nods, spurring the waiter on as if he’s totally interested in everything that’s being said. I find it all so comical, but I stay quiet. We thank the waiter and he walks away, giving us a few minutes to decide.

“Do you have any idea what he was talking about?” I lean in and ask. “What’s a Salsiccia?”

Chris shakes his head. “No clue. How about Fazzoletti di….I forget the rest.”

“Well, whatever it means, I’m sure it’s to die for.”

“Order anything you want.”

As he says this, I’m instantly reminded of Jacinta’s warning about keeping some of my control. Instead of snapping I don’t need your permission, thanks, I stay quiet and realize Chris is trying to imply that he wants me to have a good time and not worry about money. He’s implying that he’s paying — which is a very gentlemanly thing to do. No control issues here. No wonder Jacinta’s single!

Narrowing down our choices to anything that seems familiar, we order and then sit back and take in the atmosphere. The restaurant has glowing candles on each table, starched white table clothes and napkins, and fancy wine and water glasses. It’s a place that few eighteen-year-olds make a habit of dining in. This choice of establishment signifies just how much Chris is trying to impress me…and he is. Sure, there are waves of apprehension and I’ve occasionally thought Why is he here with plain-Jane me when he could be with the buxom babe with double-Ds? And I’m not referring to her initials either. It’s probably a good thing a girl can’t read a guy’s mind. It’s bad enough when I’m filling in the blanks with what I think he’s thinking. Self torture much? The waves of nervous unease pass as I snap out of my voluntary low self-esteem. I’m not so bad. In fact, I’m quite lovely. There, I said it. Now, to believe it.