Faking It (20 page)

"Listen to this email from Sam," I said, proceeding to read. "
'I've just come out of my last class of the day and we discussed the David Sedaris essay you recommended
...' 'The Learning Curve'," I interjected. "...
'and my students had the same reaction as yours--they couldn't get over the fact that Sedaris was encouraging his students to smoke in the classroom. Went totally batshit over it.'
Isn't that hilarious?" I said, looking up at them. "The same reaction!"

Mags and Jayce looked at each other, then at me.

"Oh my God, you're toast," Maggie said.

"What are you talking about?"

"You're in love with this guy!"

"I'm smitten with him."

"Oh, pardon me--you're
smitten
with him. Are you listening to yourself? So when's the wedding?"

"Will you stop?" I said, annoyed.

"Does Devin know?" Jayce asked.

"Know what?"

"That you're long distance-dating Sam."

"Not exactly," I said sheepishly.

"You're kidding," Maggie said. "It's been what--five, six weeks? You haven't said a word to him all this time?"

"It's not like Devin and I have been seeing a helluva lot of each other these days, if at all. And we only talk on the phone once a week now, sometimes less."

"Why? What happened?" Jayce asked.

"Nothing, really. He was swamped with dates during the holidays; but since then, I don't know."

"Maybe you both just got used to not hanging out with each other," said Jayce.

"Maybe he got himself a girlfriend!" said Maggie. The thought had never crossed my mind; yet my gut tightened and Mags, observant best friend that she is, noticed.

"Why should that bother you if you're seeing Sam?"

"Who said it bothers me? It's not like Devin and I were ever dating. And who says I'm 'seeing' Sam?"

"Devin's the guy you sleep with. Sam's the guy you have breakfast with," Maggie said.

I looked at her, perplexed. "What does that mean?"

"Maybe she's in love with both of them," Jayce said to Maggie, as if I wasn't there.

"I am not in love with two men!" I said staunchly.

"Come on, Andi! There's nothing wrong with it," said Jayce.

"Have you ever been in love with two men at the same time? And I don't mean your boyfriend and Taye Diggs."

Jayce smirked. "Honey, I got over both of them a long time ago. And while it's never happened to me personally, I still think it's totally possible."

"What about you, Mags? Ever been in love with two men at the same time?"

She contemplated this.

"It depends on the men, I guess."

Jayce and I exchanged confused glances.

"Does Sam know about Devin?" Jayce asked.

"Look, I am not in love with two men," I said again, perhaps too emphatically, circumventing Jayce's question. "And as far as Sam is concerned, well, it just is what it is. It's... fun. Actually, it's what everyone says being with Devin the Escort is supposed to be like. There's no pressure to it. Better yet, I don't have to shell out my life savings or sign a bogus contract for a couple of hours with him."

"Suit yourself," Maggie said. "But the sooner you come clean with yourself and everyone else, the better off you'll be."

I knew she was right, even though I didn't give her the satisfaction of telling her so. And I knew it was long overdue.

Chapter Twenty

March

D
EVIN CALLED ONE SATURDAY AFTERNOON, AND IN separate cars we drove out to Claudio's in Greenport for dinner.

"So what's up?" I spoke after we were seated and opened our menus. "I haven't seen you in ages. And what were you doing on the Island today?"

"I had a get-together with my family," he said, looking at his menu in an evasive manner.

"Special occasion?"

"My mother's birthday."

"How was it?" I asked, knowing Devin's relationship with his family was strained, at best. He never talked much about it, though.

"It was fine." His terse response indicated that he wanted to continue that trend.

I perused my menu and settled on the shrimp scampi. He ordered the swordfish. Once the menus were out of our hands, we looked at each other awkwardly, as if on a first date, and a blind one at that.

"So..." I started. He raised his eyebrows, anticipating me to continue, but I couldn't think of anything to say.

"How's work?" he asked.

"You mean school?" It rarely felt like work to me in the laborious sense. "It's fine."

"Good classes?"

"Yeah. The usual, I guess. Not bad. How 'bout you?"

"The usual," he responded, without following up. Neither of us seemed to want to talk about Devin's work anymore.

"I've got spring break next week," I said.

"Any plans?"

"Maggie and I are driving down to Florida for a few days. I know that's a bit cliched, Florida and spring break. Then I'm going up to Massachusetts for the weekend."

His eyes widened. "Really?"

"Yeah, it's been awhile since I've been back. I'm looking forward to it, actually."

"Are you going to visit anyone in particular?"

I swore in that moment he knew. Did Maggie say something to him? Or did he think I meant Andrew? I had told him about running into Andrew at the conference.
Tell him! TELL HIM!!

"Just some friends," I said.

Nice telling.

"Well, have a good time, I guess," he said with all the enthusiasm of someone about to take a final exam.

"I will," I said.

We spent much of dinner making the same kind of small talk, and I wondered how we'd become so shallow, wistful for the days when hours passed like minutes, our conversations a never-ending wellspring. I missed the private jokes we'd accumulated. I missed our laughing. I missed those times when silence didn't feel so forced. It was almost as if there was a glass partition separating the two of us, like at a prison.

As I drove back to East Meadow, all I could think about was how much I couldn't wait to see Sam.

***

Maggie and I fought like sisters in the car throughout most of the drive down to Orlando. Once there, I spent the next three days on the beach preoccupied with and anticipating the fast-approaching weekend. In addition to seeing Sam, I'd also scheduled a second interview and teaching demonstration at NorthamptonUniversity on Friday, upon their request. Maggie was still in the dark regarding the job prospect, and I felt guilty about not telling her, which was probably why I was picking fights to begin with.

On Wednesday and Thursday, I rode the Amtrak to Boston, where Sam met me at South Station, a bouquet of flowers in his hand. To my surprise, we both practically ran on the platform to reach each other; had our hands not been full, I'll bet he would've picked me up and spun me around when we finally embraced. He kissed me full on the lips--it was heavenly. It had taken Devin four months just to kiss me on the cheek. It took Sam less than four seconds from the time I got off the train.

If I didn't know any better, I'd swear I'd just come home.

NorthamptonUniversity put me up in a nearby Comfort Inn. After a late dinner, Sam dropped me off at the hotel and kissed me goodnight. Soft and subtle and perfect.

The interview at NU the next day was an all-day affair. Mentally spent and physically exhausted from the traveling, I called Sam and then spent the night by myself, crashed out in my hotel room. He picked me up for breakfast at a little nook the following morning. We spent the day walking through the main part of town in Amherst. He also took me to EdmundCollege and gave me a tour. We then picnicked next to the lake on its campus. The weather was sunny, yet brisk; typical for New England in March. Sam was quite affectionate and polite, holding doors open and making sure I was comfortable. He even
asked permission
to hold my hand. Never had I experienced such chivalry, even from Devin with all his charm. I'd never noticed it before, but Devin seemed to always have an agenda, as if he was always three moves ahead of you, like a chess player. Sam was much more in the moment.

And so was I. My typical preoccupation with what I was wearing or how my hair looked was nonexistent, especially since the NU interview ended. In fact, in terms of makeup, I wore little other than cherry-flavored lip gloss all weekend.

Just as I finished munching on biscotti, I found Sam gazing intently at me, expressing a soft smile.

"May I kiss you?" he asked.

I nodded without hesitation, and he leaned in and planted a sensational kiss on my lips. If the power were to go out in one of EdmundCollege's buildings, the fuse could be recharged by sticking our fingers in a socket following that kiss.

After the picnic and a matinee, we sat in Sam's favorite coffeeshop, gawking at each other like college kids and wearing mischievous grins.

"Wanna see my house?" he asked.

"Sure!" I replied, and we jumped up as if in a mad race to the car.

Sam's house was a twentieth century colonial with weathered wood shingles and fading painted shutters. Inside, hardwood floors and low ceilings added to the New England coziness that I had forgotten about but now enveloped me. Mismatched, dark leather furniture resided in every room, along with bookcases filled to capacity and the pleasant smell of burning hickory. Despite the draft leaking through the old wood windows, the house protruded utter warmth.

We sat on the floor in the living room, in front of the unlit fireplace, Steely Dan barely audible on the stereo.

"Want me to get a fire going?" he asked.

"Seems like there already is one," I replied. My boldness surprised me; it felt natural in the moment.

This time, he skipped the request for permission, and kissed me hard. I actually fell over, inches away from the edge of the couch and a concussion. We giggled and moved out of harm's way and made out. I felt free, light, uninhibited.
This is it
, I thought.
I'm ready. This is what I want, and who I want it with
.

"Wanna go to bed?" I asked between kisses.

Wow! Did that really come out of my mouth? A twinge of doubt crept in. I could hear Devin's voice coaching me, just relax...

"I mean..." I sat up. "I don't wanna be too forward."

Good grief. Can I hit my head now?

Sam sat up and looked at me warmly.

"Forward is good," he said, and kissed my neck. I let out a soft moan; it'd been awhile.

"I like that," I whispered, my breathing getting heavy.

"I like
you
," he cooed.

"What else do you like?" I asked, taking his hand and slipping it under my blouse.

It was Sam's turn to stop. He took his hand away and propped himself against the couch. For a split second he looked like he wanted to hit his head too.

"Are you okay? Did I do something wrong?"

He looked at me as if the notion was absurd. "Of course not."

"Then, what is it?"

"Andrea," he started. I loved the way he always used my full name--something sexy about the way he said it. "Sweetheart, there's nothing I want more than to make love to you right here and right now."

Uh-oh. I felt a big 'but' coming on.

"But I don't wanna just screw you and send you on your way, as if that's all this weekend was about."

"I never thought that was your intention." I paused for a beat and looked at him. "What
is
this weekend about?"

He took my hand into his. "Over the course of these past couple of months, I think I've fallen in love with you. In fact, I
know
it."

A look of bewilderment overtook me, as if no man had ever told me he loved me before. And I suddenly realized it was because I'd never really
believed
any one of them who did. My subconscious simply wouldn't allow it. But thanks to meeting Devin, that had changed. And seeing the look in Sam's ocean blue eyes, not only did I believe him, but I also
knew
. And yet, I couldn't bring myself to say I loved him too, although I was pretty sure I did.

Without waiting for my response, he took my other hand into his as well, cradling them both.

"If I'm moving too fast, just tell me and I'll back off. But I want this to be something serious, and I don't want us to have sex until we
both
want it to be, okay?"

Was this really happening?

"You're saying you don't want to sleep with me tonight?" I had to make sure I was hearing him correctly.

"No, I totally want to sleep with you tonight! I mean, I want you to spend the night and I want us to cuddle in bed and stuff."

The "and stuff" intrigued me.

"But having sex and then going back to this long distance thing just doesn't seem right or fair to either one of us, don't you agree?"

The fucking irony!

After what seemed like eons of dead air, I burst out laughing, one of those laughs that indicates you're one step away from mania.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"Man, wait 'til I tell you. Talk about fucknuts..." I said, laughing again. Sam waited for me to calm down. "Seriously, though. I do agree with you." I stifled a chuckle. What does "and stuff" consist of, I wanted to ask.

"Look, I don't wanna be pushy and I don't wanna scare you off, but I really hope you get that position at NU. And if you don't, then I hope you move back here anyway. Otherwise hell, I'll just move to New York."

"You would really do that?"

"Yes, I would."

"Give up your tenure and everything?"

"In a New York minute, as they say."

"Wow," I said, my heart fluttering lightly.

"Yeah."

"The Yankee fans'll kill you. After they eat you for breakfast, of course."

He laughed softly and kissed me playfully on my nose before holding me close. Everything about Sam felt good to me.

He'd actually relocate for me! Quit his job, leave tenure, and everything!
No one had ever made such a sincere gesture before. Hell, even if they had, it would've scared the crap out of me, and vice-versa, if I had made such an offer. I thought about what he said about my moving back to Massachusetts even if the job at NU didn't work out. Was I willing to take that risk? I further thought about what Jayce said about my being in love with two men. Saying yes to a serious relationship with Sam was saying no to the false hope that one day things would actually change with Devin. And wasn't that worth letting go? Was I ready to do so?