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The steady drum in my temples made me wince when I woke on Sunday. Should I have drunk more last night or less? Possibly knocked myself out by running against a wall? Skipped the wedding and gone to dance class instead? Just my luck that it was also that time of the month for a hormonal migraine. Worse luck would have been to have it yesterday, but maybe missing the wedding wouldn’t have been so terrible given how things ended.
I groaned as I thought more about the wedding debacles. Yes. Debacles—plural. Nausea roiled my stomach. Migraine or toxic stew of shame and regret—take your pick. I swallowed my migraine meds, then lay back on my bed, waiting for the sweet relief to kick in. It sucked to be incapacitated, but if I got up and started moving around, I’d be too nauseated to do anything much anyway.
After my headache calmed down, I reached for my phone to see that I’d missed text messages from family, friends, and Chase. Chase. I ignored the alerts without opening any of them.
His friendly favor, accompanying me to the wedding, had felt all too romantic and real when we moved into the kitchen. Those first few minutes, enthralled in the fantasy he wove with his words, were magic. However, it had gone sharply downhill even before Jennifer appeared. Chase had missed a big, fat, freaking negative response to his first attempt at ripping off my underwear. Could I be with a guy so distracted by fantasy that he failed to pay attention to me?
Jennifer’s appearance and my lack of backbone at her censure still mortified me. I cringed every time I remembered her unkind words. I’d stood there and just taken it, like an invisible nothing. My freezing up bothered me more than Jennifer’s actual words. I kept reliving the conversation over and over in my head, with me reacting differently each time. In almost all of them I managed to push back and stand up for myself. If only one of my replays were reality.
It wasn’t the first time I’d wished for a conversation re-do, but like so many times before, I knew I couldn’t change the past. The best I could hope for was that I’d be able to defend myself next time. Not that I wanted to experience a next time. Jennifer’s attitude had shocked me. She’d always been more obsessed with appearances than my other siblings, but this seemed extreme, even for her.
With a deep sigh, I opened the text from my mother first. Better to get it over with.
Mom: We loved meeting Chase last night. Where did you two disappear to? I was hoping you could join us for a late birthday lunch today before we leave town.
The belated gesture soothed some of the disappointment from my forgotten birthday, but it was already eleven. Lunch was not in the cards, and I didn’t want to face uncomfortable questions about Chase, since I had no inclination to invite him to join us. I could stretch the facts of my migraine a little. After all, Chase had already made me a liar by claiming our relationship was more established than it was.
Tamra: Sorry, Mom. I have a migraine. It started last night, which is why we left early. Safe travels and talk soon? xo T.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long for her response.
Mom: Of course, dear. Feel better soon. It was so nice to meet your young man! Maybe we’ll be in town for another wedding again soon? ;)
I groaned. Of course. No response seemed safest. Ignore, ignore, ignore. If I waited long enough, she’d forget.
The text from Vanessa was similar, but more knowing.
Vanessa: I hear you and Chase were enjoying the ambiance of the kitchen last night. Call me later if you need to talk. Sorry Jennifer was on such a tear ...
Tamra: Thanks, sis. I have no idea what her deal is.
Thankfully, Jennifer hadn’t texted. I’d had more than enough of her in person, thank you very much. The group texts from Gina and Vicki made me smile. Friends were the best. They cheered you up even when they didn’t know how badly you needed it.
Gina: How was the wedding with 007? Did he use his license to thrill?
Vicki: Groan. I apologize for my wife. However, I also want to know. How was it? Huh? Huh? Huh? Us old married ladies have to live vicariously through you.
Gina: Hey! Speak for yourself. I think we’re still thrilling.
Tamra: It had its ups and downs. Too much for text. Would you two be up for an afternoon coffee? I need all the advice ...
My headache was fading and commiserating with friends sounded like just what I needed to fully recover.
Vicki: Sure. Call us your fairy godmothers. Here to make sure your prince isn’t a toad.
Gina: Groan. Now it’s my turn to apologize for my wife ... LOL. Meet you at the usual place at 2?
I confirmed our coffee date, then went about my weekend chores before getting ready to meet Gina and Vicki. At the last possible moment I read the text from Chase. After telling him to get lost at the end of the night, I had no idea what he’d say. Had he taken the brush-off seriously, or realize I was upset?
He’d made a mistake, but he had also tried to defend me to my sister when I couldn’t. I’d been a full participant in the kitchen, but some of Chase’s tendencies worried me. A relationship between us wasn’t going to work if he didn’t listen.
Sexy, fun times in the bedroom were likely to be uncomfortable and unfulfilling if he couldn’t pick up verbal and non-verbal cues. Could I trust him to recognize my interests and desires?
I finally opened his text. Puss in Boots from Shrek was one of my favorite animated characters, with his swagger and adorable, pleading eyes. The fact that he’d remembered my soft spot for the movie gave me some reassurance that he was listening ... at least some of the time.
Gina and Vicki had already staked out a table inside and had their drinks, so I placed my order before joining them. My chai was giving me life as I sipped at it and moved to their table. While my headache was receding thanks to the meds, I hadn’t felt like eating, and the spices in the latte helped to settle my stomach.
Gina and Vicki watched me take a seat expectantly, taking in my jeans and T-shirt and lack of makeup with speculation. To draw out the anticipation, I sat and took a slow sip of my drink, placing it carefully back on the table before making eye contact.
Gina couldn’t wait any longer. “So?” she asked. “How was it?” She leaned in toward me, her chin on her hands.
I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, not sure where to start. “Eh, it was mostly good. The wedding itself was pretty much what I expected, and it was good to see my parents. I was glad to have Chase along as a buffer with some of the extended relatives. They made me feel salty as always, but having Chase there kept the carnage to a minimum. Things only got interesting toward the end of the night.”
Vicki tipped her head and raised her elegantly shaped gray brows, waiting for me to continue.
“We were slow dancing, and I’m not sure what prompted it, but Chase shared an erotic fantasy, and we ... acted it out.”
I shared the highs and lows of our adventure in the kitchen. Reliving those moments made my skin flare with heat, then cool with embarrassment as I recounted my tale to my friends.
I shared how exciting it had been, making out with Chase in the kitchen. At least until my sister and his failed attempt to rip off my panties killed the mood.
Vicki, ever the professor, summarized the situation beautifully when I finished. “So, you and your sister are on the outs and Chase is potentially incompetent at reading female signals, even when they’re in all-caps. Is that about right?”
I nodded glumly. “In a nutshell.”
Gina shook her head. “It’s nuts all right. I still can’t believe that after the first attempt, he went back again. The man gave you a wedgie. Heterosexual sexcapades are dangerous. A woman would know not to go there.”
I bobbed my head. “I know, right? I couldn’t decide if it was ego, like ‘these panties will not defeat me’ or what was going through his head. Was he afraid I’d think he was weak if he failed?”
“I’m assuming you weren’t anticipating sex that night?” Vicki asked.
“Nope,” I replied succinctly.
“So, the undies were ...”
“Extremely functional and well-made. Ready for the zombie apocalypse and not intended for seduction. Which was maybe me misreading the signals, but still. Does he have no concept of a woman’s relationship with her underwear?” I asked morosely.
Gina gave me a knowing nod. “Exactly. I have a pair for every occasion. Period panties? Check. Slimming undergarments for under fancy outfits? Check. Daily underwear for work that are comfortable on a long shift? Check. Seduction panties?” She gave her wife a mischievous look. “Double check.”
“Pardon me for being practical,” Vicki broke in, “but I don’t understand romance that destroys clothing. If a woman wears something special, don’t you think a conversation is warranted before it’s destroyed altogether? We ladies have to plan for these things.”
“So, in the name of science, have you ever had a panty ripping episode, either as the ripper or rippee, and did you pull it—them—off?”
Vicki was usually pretty private, but a few drinks and Gina would tell me everything. I thought Gina would jump in, but Vicki was in the mood to share.
“Oh, yes. But only once. Rending lingerie is one of those romantic moves that’s better in fiction than reality. It wasn’t wedgie territory, thank God, but it still took way more hand strength than I anticipated.” She gave Gina a fond smile. “Sorry, dear. Before your time. Back when I was a wild and wanton college co-ed.”
It was Gina’s turn to smile mischievously. “Noted. Not that anyone asked, but I have not had any panty-rippers. And honestly, after your reviews, I’m grateful?” she asked hesitantly.
Vicki and I both nodded solemnly. “Yes. You now know you’re missing nothing. Unless they’re straight up rip-aways or have side ties, it’s not a move I’d encourage. Do not recommend. Zero stars,” I added.
Vicki turned to me. “So, what’s the verdict on Chase?”
“I don’t know. The panty-ripping was a turn-off. More because he didn’t listen to me than because he tried something adventurous. I was not in a head space last night to pick up romantically where we left off after my ‘conversation’ with Jennifer. Chase sent me a sweet apology last night, but I haven’t responded yet. If you have one bad experience with a person, do you call it quits?” I asked.
Saying the words aloud helped me answer my own question. No. I wasn’t ready to give up on Chase. If thinking about him had me shifting in my seat, there was still something there worth exploring.
Vicki stroked her chin. Gina, who usually had a ready answer for everything, even if was blatantly wrong, was silent. I’d once asked her the average temperature on Mars, and she confidently responded 2,010 degrees Fahrenheit. It wasn’t until I googled it that I realized how wildly she guessed and how wrong she was. Mars may be red, but it’s cold, not hot.
“Well, up until the disastrous panty fail, how was it? And other than last night, has he generally been a good listener?” Gina asked.
I flipped back through my memories of my time with Chase. “Yes, I think so.”
Vicki nodded. “Then I say, give him another shot.”
Gina said, “Have you realized the bright spot in all of this yet?”
My expression was blank. Nothing felt bright about this situation.
“You did it! And the crowd goes wild!”
Gina’s smug grin prepared me for her next words. “I think you should thank your life coach.”
“Umm?”
My fake life coach was proud of my failures? My relationship with Chase didn’t feel like something to cheer. Yet.
“Tamra, you hit all of your goals for the year, and it’s what, only a few weeks since your birthday? You did it. Wasn’t your third goal to take a romantic risk? I think getting frisky at your brother’s wedding definitely qualifies. My work here is done.”
She wiped her hands and sat back with a grin. I laughed as realization washed over me. Gina was right. Traumatic ending aside, I had met my birthday goals. And then some.
I’d built an online friendship with Virginia Rothman. It hadn’t turned out like I hoped, but that action had led me to Chase. Finishing the pole dance class series proved I wasn’t a quitter, and maybe not so boring as I’d always believed. I’d taken a risk in inviting Chase to the wedding, and that was before the kitchen debauchery. That bold moment for sure deserved extra credit. Meeting my goals was something to feel good about amidst the shit-sandwich of the last twenty-four hours. Maybe my life hadn’t changed dramatically with each accomplishment, but I’d pushed myself and tasted success. Each bite tempted me to indulge further. Shedding old misconceptions and patterns left me feeling lighter. Now I was dreaming bigger. More willing to risk and share myself with someone like Chase because I recognized I had more to share.
“Thank you, Gina. Your support has meant a lot.”
“I wasn’t too pushy?” she asked with a grin.
“Nope. Just the right amount. You push it real good,” I said on a laugh.
That night as I ate a sad combination of deli salads and called it dinner, I thought about how much fun Chase and I had cooking together. I missed him.
He hadn’t texted me again since his apology, and I didn’t know if I should be glad that he was respecting boundaries, or sad that I didn’t mean enough to keep trying. Maybe I wasn’t the only quitter. I bit my lip. That wasn’t me. Not anymore.
Tamra: The wedding had its ups and downs, but I appreciate you going with me.
There. Nice, neutral, not giving much away, but still appreciative of the role he played in ensuring I had backup for Nick’s wedding. I didn’t have long to wait for his response.
Chase: I’m glad we’re still talking. Can we meet up this week? I’d like to apologize in person. Maybe over dinner? I can come cook for you if you want?
Tamra: I want.
I’d hit send before thinking it through, but it was a small risk to take after all the others. I wasn’t giving up so easily on Chase. I did want. In my life, in my kitchen, in my bedroom. Preferably without witnesses.
We settled the details for him to come over on my next day off, and I went to bed with a smile. Finding someone like Chase, someone I could dream with, whose sense of humor matched my own, and who made me tingle in all the best ways? That was worth fighting for.
