“What’s her name?”
He stares at me for a few seconds before answering. “Does it matter?”
I wasn’t sure before, but now I am. “Yes. It matters to me.”
“I’m not seeing her anymore. I went out with her twice. That’s it. It was never serious.”
“Just waiting for a name,” I say, smiling. I’m pretty sure my expression is a little strained, but the more he plays hard to get, the more worried I become.
He opens his mouth to say something, but a voice coming out over a loudspeaker interrupts him.
“Are we ready for a little noise?” the person asks, obviously expecting a positive response.
I look around, confused as to what’s going on. There’s a table of women across the room from me who are waving long strips of white paper around. It’s then that I notice a server with a roll of register tape running from table to table, ripping off two-foot lengths of it and giving them to other diners.
I lean over and ask my date, “What the heck?” but before Rob can answer, the voice is back, and now there’s music pumping out of the sound system.
“Aw, yeah, baby! Let me introduce to you… tonight, back from his Broadway debut… Johnny Blakely!” The girls at the other table start yelling and waving their register tape even more enthusiastically. And then off to my right some guy starts jumping up and down and singing into the microphone. I recognize Macklemore’s Can’t Hold Us immediately.
Rob starts to grin, and I smile like a fool. I had no idea we were going to be treated to a show with our meals. When the waiter behind me hands me some register tape, I take it and start waving it around enthusiastically with everyone else.
The entire place is hopping with the beat. I can feel the bass in my bones. The singing waiter jumps up on the back of the booth Rob is sitting in and does a rap duo with another server across the room. Lights are flashing, and a chorus line of other servers starts up; they’re dancing in synch to the rhythm set by the two rapper guys, the music, and all us diners stomping our feet.
I start yelling for the sheer joy of it, and I’m not the only one. It’s crazy; like I’ve entered into another dimension where yelling at the top of your lungs and waving paper around is completely acceptable behavior in a restaurant.
By the time they finish, they’re covered in sweat and I’m exhausted. There’s more yammering going on over the mic but I can’t focus on anything but Rob now.
“Did you know that was going to happen?” Why am I out of breath? I have no idea. I’m not the one who was performing, but it feels like I was.
“The singing? Yeah. It happens all the time. You’ll hear more.”
I look at the guy who was just rapping his butt off, who’s now calmly serving drinks at a table nearby. “More? How can they possibly keep that up all night?”
“It won’t be him singing all the time. They take turns.”
“They?” I’m wondering if they hire performers and mix them in with the other servers.
“Everyone who works here is a Broadway hopeful. They all can sing and dance, and they take turns. Usually it’s musical numbers, but not always.”
I have more questions, but they’ll have to wait because our server’s here and he wants to know what we’re ordering. After some hemming and hawing I settle for a chicken wrap and then stare at my date while another song starts, this one from Les Miserables.
“This is the most interesting first date I’ve ever had.”
“It doesn’t feel so much like a first date anymore,” Rob says, leaning forward and taking my hand. He rests it on the table as he gazes at me.
I swear it hurts to look at him this close and know he’s here with me. He’s so beautiful.
“What?” he asks, smiling.
“What?” I say back, feeling silly.
“What are you thinking? You have the cutest expression on your face.”
“Nothing.”
“Liar.”
“Fine, you want to know? I was thinking how gorgeous you are. And how I can’t believe I’m sitting here across from you after thinking about doing it for so long.”
“How long?” he asks, teasing me.
“Way too long.” A little girl’s crush turned into a teenager’s obsession and eventually an adult woman’s fantasy.
His teasing face falls away. “Me too. It’s been too long.” He tilts his head. “Tell me again why we waited to do this.”
I shrug. “I had no idea you wanted to.”
“How could you not know?”
“You never gave me any signals.” I can clearly remember thinking how one-sided the feelings were. He smiled at me and was polite, but I never caught him looking at me or trying to get close to me.
“That’s because your brother would have killed me.”
“Why? Why is he so against us being together?”
“I guess a lot of his friends started going after you once you got some curves, and he was starting to think that’s the only reason anyone came around to hang out with him anymore.”
“That’s not true.” This is the first I’m hearing of this. I think Rob’s fooling himself.
“It absolutely is. And he’s warned me in no uncertain terms that I’m not to go near you. More than once.”
I sit back in my chair, my hand sliding from Rob’s. “And you listened to him?”
“I listened before, but I’m not now, am I?” He pauses. “What’s wrong? Are you mad?”
I shrug. “I’m not sure. Maybe.”
“At me or James?”
“James, mostly. Why would he do that? Why would he interfere in my life like that? In my happiness?”
Rob’s expression changes. It happens so fast and then it’s gone, I almost can believe I imagined it. But when his jaw tightens once really fast after, I know I didn’t.
“What?” I ask. “What’s wrong?”
Rob shakes his head. “Now’s not the time to discuss it.”
“When?” I ask, getting cranky.
“When what?”
“When will be the time to discuss it?”
Rob stares into my eyes for a long time. “After dinner. I promise.”
I nod once. “Fine. After dinner, then.” I try to smile and move past the moment, but it’s impossible. Now there’s some kind of weird dark shadow hanging over our table that won’t go away. Our dinner is delivered, and I manage to eat some of it, but when they ask if we want coffee or dessert I decline and ask for the check.
“Anxious to leave?” Rob asks, putting his napkin on the table next to his plate.
“Anxious to get to the bottom of your story,” I say, standing as the bill arrives.
“Are you sure you want to do this? Get into all these details before we have a chance to enjoy ourselves for a while?” He helps me get into my coat as the mood grows even darker.
“I’m sure.” We walk out of the diner into the cold night air. Rob hails a taxi and I follow him inside. He gives the address for his apartment, but I don’t say a word. Might as well get to the bottom of things, so I can decide whether I’m going to keep singing Rob’s praises and my good fortune or start planning the rest of my life without him in it.
Chapter Thirty-One
I HAVE ONLY BEEN TO Rob’s place a few times in my life. Today I’m seeing it for the first time as his girlfriend. Or his potential girlfriend. I have no idea what’s going to happen in the next hour. We could end up in bed together, or I could be in a taxi going home and crying my eyes out. The stress of not knowing which one it will be is killing me.
“Here,” Rob says, handing me a glass of something amber-colored.
“What’s this?” I ask, taking a sniff of it. “Phew, that’s strong.”
He takes a big gulp of his drink and points to the couch after. “Have a seat. And drink up. You’re going to want to be buzzed for this.”
My eyebrow goes up. “I’m going to want to be buzzed or you’re going to want me buzzed?”
“Bo
th.” He takes me by the hand and pulls me over to the sitting area, dragging me down to the couch with him.
I take up a position two cushions away. I can’t trust that I’ll be smart about this conversation if he’s any closer. He looks positively edible in his starched shirt with cufflinks and slacks.
He drinks more and stares off into space, a brooding look taking over his features.
“So, you said you went on a date to the diner with someone else,” I say. “Who was it?”
He sighs and looks over at me. “You’re still on that?”
“I’m still on anything that remains a secret between us.”
“I’ve known you for over twenty years. That’s a lot of secrets.”
I shrug. “I’ve got time.”
“The question is whether you have the patience. And forgiveness.”
My eyes kind of bug out at that. “Forgiveness? Why? What have you done?”
He looks back at his glass, swirling the liquid around over the ice. “A few things I’m not exactly proud of. Things I wish I’d handled differently, I guess you could say.”
“Like what, for instance?”
He looks over at me, suddenly sad. “Do we have to do this now? Can’t we do it later? After?”
“After what?” I’m almost laughing, but I’m not happy.
I catch him glancing over toward a door across the room and realize he means after we go into his bedroom and have sex.
I put my drink on the table and look him right in the eye. “If you think I’m going to sleep with you when there are secrets between us, you’d better think again, Bud.”
He grins, but it’s not the happy kind. “Damn.”
“Yeah. Damn. I know exactly what you’re thinking now, so just get over yourself. I don’t care how good you are in bed, I’m not letting this go. You owe me the truth.”
He nods, staring into his drink again. “I suppose I do.”
I lean back into the corner of the couch, easing my heels off and wiggling my formerly cramped toes. “Go ahead. I’m ready.”
“Are you sure?” He’s still not looking at me.
“Absolutely. But you better hurry up and just say it. The longer you wait, the worse it’s getting in my head.”
A long stretch of silence grows between us, but I wait. I’m not going to harass him. Either this relationship is worth a little hard work or it isn’t. I’m done with hounding him and trying to force myself on him. If he wants me, he needs to come and get me.
“You asked me who I went to Stardust with before you.”
“Yes, I did.”
“I dated this woman twice. That’s it. She wasn’t anyone special to me.”
“And her name is…?” I wait for his answer, growing less patient by the second.
He sighs heavily. “Her name is Hilary.” He sneaks a glance at me, kind of ducking his shoulders.
“Hilary?”
He can’t possibly mean the Hilary I know.
“Hilary? As in James’s Hilary?” The woman he was with for a couple years and almost married? That can’t be right.
“Yes. That Hilary.”
I shake my head, confused. This isn’t possible. “What do you mean you went out with Hilary twice? When?”
“When they broke up.”
“Last year?”
He shakes his head. “No. A year before that.”
“They broke up before that?” Still confused over here. I have no idea what he’s talking about.
He takes another long drink from his glass, almost emptying it. Then he looks at me. “She called me up and told me all the terrible things James was doing. Working too late, not calling her. She thought he was having an affair, so she broke up with him.”
“James having an affair? He would never do that.”
“I know. I should have known. But I listened to her and I believed her.”
“But why would she say that?”
“I have no idea. Maybe she really believed it. There’s no way for me to know now. I haven’t spoken to her since she and James got back together.”
“Did you sleep with her?” I’m already mad, but not sure why. Am I jealous? Angry on my brother’s behalf?
“No. I got close, I’m not going to lie to you, but I didn’t go through with it.”
“Why not?” I’m keeping a handle on my emotions. I’m pretty proud of myself, actually.
“Does it matter?” He looks tortured, but I don’t care.
“To me it does.”
“I didn’t sleep with her because she was James’s ex-girlfriend.”
“Not because you didn’t want to sleep with her,” I clarify. “Not because she’s an evil bitch or anything like that.”
He shakes his head. “Men don’t think about women like that.”
“You’re trying to tell me you can’t identify an evil bitch when you see one in action? Because holy hell, I know you saw Hilary do her thing more than once. We all did.” That woman … she was something else. I’m surprised she didn’t run James over with her car when he finally ended things between them. She’s that horrible.
“No, I’m saying that even when a woman like Hilary… does the things that Hilary does, it doesn’t necessarily make her not attractive in certain ways.”
I shake my head, disgusted with what I’m hearing. “I can’t believe you. You’re basically saying you would have slept with her, even though she’s a horrible person.”
“No, what I’m saying is that I went out with her a couple times, at her request, ostensibly to talk about James but also with the thought in the back of my mind that I might sleep with her. But when I realized she and James weren’t really over, I backed off. I shouldn’t have gone out with her in the first place, even if she and James were done for good. I know that. I knew that. I should have told her no. I knew better, but I did it anyway, and for that, I’m ashamed.”
I mull over what he’s said for a while. Judge not, lest I be judged, keeps running through my head like it’s on a loop. As a result, I try to open my mind and my heart and see Rob for who he is: a man with urges like any other guy out there. Can I hate him for being that person? Do I want to be with a guy who never makes mistakes? Does such a man even exist? I know the answer already. I’m just going through the process I need to in order to forgive the idea of him with Hilary. She really is so, so awful.
“I don’t understand how a guy who would go out with Hilary and think of sleeping with her would want to be with me.” There, I said it. I not only compared myself to another of his potential girlfriends, I basically begged for some compliments. Well done, Stupid Self. Why don’t you offer him a blowjob on the first date while you’re at it?
“Maybe I’m not the guy you think I am,” he says ominously.
So much for digging for compliments. I’m going to have to train him to recognize my methods a little better than that if this is going to work, obviously.
“I think I know you pretty well,” I say with a confidence I don’t really feel. His latest confession has me wondering. “I’ve known you since I was a kid.”
“But you know the man you imagined me to be, not who I really am.”
The knowledge that he might be right makes me profoundly sad. Did I fall in love with an ideal and not a real person? That would be a tragedy of epic proportions, to imagine that my entire life has been wasted pining away for someone who doesn’t even exist.
“I hope not,” I finally say, meaning those few simple words with all my heart.
“There’s something else I have to tell you. Before you decide whether you want to have another date with me.”
“What’s that?” I take my drink and down most of it, burning my throat in the process. He was right. I think I need to be drunk for the rest of this. If the look on his face is any indication, his next confession will be even bigger than the first. I’m sipping the last bits of whiskey off my ice cubes when he finally answers my question.
“I have a son.”
I choke on the ice cube that slides into my throat and end up doubled over, trying to breathe as he whacks me on the back.
Chapter Thirty-Two
“A SON?” I FINALLY SAY when I have my breath back. I’m so happy I didn’t vomit my chicken wrap on his coffee table; it was close for a few seconds there. “You have a son?” I can’t compute this information. It just won’t sink in. “Who? When? With whom? When? Who is he? How old is he? When? What’s his name?”
Rob puts his hand on my arm gently. “Just relax. I’ll give you all the details you want. Just don’t… hate me until I’m done.”
I pull away from him and squeeze myself as far into the corner of the couch as I can. “Fine.” I’m glaring at him, but I can’t help it. How can he possibly have a son without me knowing about it? Is he not like another brother to me? A de facto member of our family? Does he have a wife too? Holy shit, I need more whiskey.
I look around, trying to locate the bottle, but Rob is oblivious. He’s staring at his clasped hands that rest between his knees as he sits forward on the edge of the couch. And so, his confession begins…
“When I was in law school, I had this girlfriend. Val.” He glances at me. “Do you remember her?”
I shake my head numbly. Whenever I heard from James that Rob had a girlfriend — and now that I think about it, James was always especially happy to spread that news — I ignored the whole thing. I convinced myself that any girl he was with was a big mistake that he’d figure out eventually. And I’d be there waiting for him when he finally realized I was the girl for him, of course. Stupid, stupid me.
“We dated almost the entire three years we were there. Anyway, in our last year, she got pregnant.”
“How?”
His smile isn’t happy. “The way most people manage it. We used protection, but I guess it failed.”
“Or she made it fail,” I say bitterly. I know plenty of women like that, who see a great guy and think trapping him with a baby is a great way to tie him up for life. I hate to think that Rob fell for something like that.