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“I’m sorry,” I said.
“It’s okay,” said Preston, picking up the toy and examining it. “Hey, a
Magic Eight Ball
!” he exclaimed, “I used to have one of these!” He closed his eyes. “Should I go home?” he asked.
“What?”
His eyes remained closed. “I’m asking the ball,” he said, gently shaking it.
I was smiling from ear to ear.
Preston opened his eyes and looked at the ball. “My sources say no,” he read.
“Well, that’s good,” I joked.
“Should I take Emma upstairs?” he asked the ball, shaking it again. “Concentrate and ask again,” he read.
“Should you take Emma upstairs?” I played along.
Preston shook the ball again and read the answer. “Without a doubt.”
“Does it really say that?”
He showed me the ball and sure enough, the
Magic Eight Ball
was in support of our relationship.
“Are we going to have fun up there?” Preston asked it. He read the answer. “Most likely.”
We both chuckled. Then, Preston began kissing me. “Will I ever get enough of Preston?” I whispered in between kisses.
He shook the ball and answered, “Don’t count on it.”
“Does it really say that?”
“No,” he chuckled. Then he showed me the ball and to my dismay, the real answer was, “Yes, definitely.”
“That’s not good,” I said.
Preston had to shake the ball three more times before we got the answer we both wanted. Then he threw the
Magic Eight Ball
across the room and began kissing me again.
.
“L
et me make this clear,” said Luke, through his heavy breathing, “I was a Blackhawks fan long before they won the Stanley Cup. Not a lot of people can say that.”
It was Saturday, and Luke and I were jogging on the path. I’d dropped off Izzie at my parent’s house for an hour so I could work out, and let’s be honest, so I could see Luke again. Yes, I was deeply involved with Preston now, but part of me was intrigued by Luke, and I wanted to get to know him better. And since he hadn’t asked me out on a date, I wasn’t cheating. Besides, even if I
was
on a date, it wasn’t like Preston and I had discussed not dating other people. I had no idea what he was doing when he wasn’t with me. Honestly, I didn’t think he was seeing other women, but maybe I was being naïve. As for myself, Luke had asked me to go jogging. That was it. And there was no harm in that.
“So, you don’t like the Cubs, you like the Bears and the Bulls, but when it comes to the Hawks, you’re a true fan,” I answered, my breathing the same if not worse than my running partner’s.
“It’s not that I don’t like the Cubs. In fact, I love going to the games. They’re fun. I just don’t have a lot of interest in baseball. But I’ve always loved watching hockey. Can I tell you a secret?”
“Sure.”
“I always wear my Duncan Keith jersey while I’m watching Blackhawks games.” He chuckled, “Even if I’m not with my boys.”
I giggled, “Really?”
“Yeah. It’s good luck. Swear to God.”
I couldn’t stop smiling. “You’re like a little boy.”
“It’s juvenile, I know. But it makes me happy.”
We ran for a little while longer and then Luke asked, “So, how did your date go the other night?”
“Uh…good.” I was so glad at this point that we were running, so Luke couldn’t see how flustered and red in the face I suddenly got, thinking about the fact that if he only knew how good things were…
“Really?”
“Yeah. You seem surprised.”
“Not surprised. A little jealous, actually.”
I turned to him, but he wouldn’t look at me. He just continued to jog. “If you’re jealous, then why don’t you do something about it?!” I wanted to shout at him. I couldn’t, though. I was afraid to hear his answer. Plus, I wasn’t sure I wanted Luke to do anything about it. I was in a relationship. It was way too early to define it, but Preston was more than I could handle right now. So the fact that Luke was keeping things platonic was a good, good thing.
“So, how about you? Are you dating anyone?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Luke, we have twenty more minutes before we can stop running. Tell me.”
“I will. Just not now. Is that okay?”
“If anyone understands just how okay it is, it’s me. I get not wanting to talk, but I
am
interested.”
Luke was finally able to look at me. He smiled, “I appreciate that.”
After a few minutes of silence, Luke asked, “So, have you gone out with him again?”
“We’ve had two more dates, actually.”
“Really?”
I giggled, “Yeah, you seem surprised again.”
“So, you’re in a relationship.”
“Why are you acting territorial?”
“Protective is a better word.”
I suddenly felt like Luke was my big brother, and I loved it. It felt so safe and secure, and it made me feel young and protected. Yet, there was a part of me who felt very sexy around Luke. The way he looked at me gave me certainty that he was attracted. And that made me feel like a woman. And feeling both those things at the same time was a very appealing combination. I loved it!
“Look, does the guy treat you well?” Luke asked.
Does he treat me well? Ha! The heart stopping details of my sex life were the first response that popped into my head, but since I knew Luke wasn’t asking how Preston treated me in bed, I simply answered, “Yes, he does.”
“Well then, that’s good. Because after what you’ve been through, you don’t need any more shit.”
I laughed. “You’re a great guy, you know that?”
“Tell that to my ex.”
That’s the exact moment I realized something. Luke Sullivan had major issues, and that probably had something to do with why he wasn’t pursuing me or any other woman. But I liked him. I
really
liked him.
A couple nights later, I went out with Preston again. We went to dinner with Stacy and John McGowan, the couple through whom we’d met. And although it was a fun evening, all I could think about through the entire meal was how much I was looking forward to the intimate after-party I was throwing at my place. Izzie was at my parents once again, and I was starting to feel a bit guilty about the fact that she was spending so much time there these days, but I was a desperate woman who needed Preston much like a crack addict needs a hit.
As we drove back to my house, I was so happy, thinking about holding and hugging and kissing and touching and all the other good stuff that was going to happen tonight in my bedroom. It seemed that with each date, I was diving in more and more. I didn’t have the slightest clue where our relationship was going but that wasn’t important to me. With Preston, I was living for now, and that was all that mattered. Logic, reason, judgment, and perhaps reality were becoming skewed. I didn’t care, though. I just cared about having it continue.
We were halfway back to my place when all of a sudden Preston made a turn onto a dirt road and continued driving.
“Where are you going?” I asked him.
He kept driving without answering.
“Preston, what are you doing?”
No answer.
“Preston…”
He stopped the car, turned off the ignition, got out and opened my door. “Come with me,” he whispered, taking my hand.
My heart was pounding. A few moments later, I found myself up against a tree. “I can’t wait, Baby,” he said, “I need you right now.” He then lifted up my dress and began to touch me.
Oh my God! Was I really going to do this? I looked around. It was dark, not a single person in sight. “Preston, are you sure about this?” I whispered, “We could get arrested.”
He chuckled and said, “It’s fine, I promise.” When he kissed me, I surrendered unconditionally and made love to my new boyfriend under a tree in a remote forest preserve. Very classy, right? Actually it was amazing and thrilling, a new Preston Baby high in the area of sexual deviance. But it didn’t seem sleazy at all. It was sweet, and quiet, and sensual.
When it was over, Preston held me very tight. In fact, it was almost unnaturally snug, making me feel like he was grasping onto me out of some kind of fear.
“I really like you, Baby,” he said, “but I don’t want a girlfriend and I don’t want to fall in love.”
Wow. I realized right then I wasn’t the only one with baggage. Maybe Preston wasn’t as untainted as I’d previously thought. For whatever reason, he was guarded, careful, and wanting to make sure he kept up his wall. But he wasn’t fooling me. He’d just given me a glimpse of some severe vulnerability.
Instead of pursuing anything, however, I decided to make him feel safe and protected. So, I responded by stroking his hair and answering softly, “Of course you don’t.”
“So why can’t I stop shaking?” he asked.
.
T
hat Sunday, with thunder as loud as I can ever remember and rain coming down in buckets, Laura moved the rest of her things into my house. My niece, Audrey, who was headed to Europe the next day for a pre-college summer excursion with four of her friends came over to spend time with us and help occupy Isabelle while Laura and I unpacked. After a couple hours, Izzie watched iCarly, while Laura, Audrey and I sat at the kitchen table eating cool cucumber salsa and chips.
“I hate her,” said my eighteen year-old niece, referring to Alan’s bride-to-be, “Her personality is even more fake than her boobs!”
I snuck a peek at Laura’s reaction. I could tell my sister got satisfaction out of her daughter’s disapproval of dad’s new girlfriend.
“Don’t hate her,” I managed to tell Audrey, “And don’t hate your father, either.”
“She’s right,” Laura added, “I can’t stand your dad right now, but I think my anger will fade over time. He’s a good man. He’s just a little messed up.” And there it was, my completely selfless, thoughtful, caring sister holding it together for her daughter.
“Are you going to be okay Mom?” Audrey asked, tears in her eyes.
“Yes,” Laura answered, “I have a lot to figure out, a lot to deal with. In time, though, I think I’ll be fine.”
“I love you,” Audrey said.
“Me too,” Laura smiled.
Audrey wiped her tears, looked at me and then blurted out, “I heard about your new boyfriend, by the way.”
“Word spreads pretty fast, huh?” I said, looking at Laura.
“Way to go, Cougar!” Audrey laughed.
When she left to go meet some of her friends for dinner and a movie, I called my parents to come over and eat with us. “We’ll order a pizza,” I said to my mother.
“Okay,” she replied.
“What does Dad want on it?”
“Actually,” she said hesitantly, “he’s not coming.”
“Why?”
“He’s tired. I’ll be over soon. I want mushrooms and black olives.”
I obliged, hung up the phone, and immediately stated to my sister that something very weird was going on with my dad. I was getting this awful feeling he was sick and that my parents were hiding it from us.
While we waited for the pizza and for my mother, we played Chutes and Ladders with Izzie. Halfway through the game, Laura’s cell phone rang. I burst out laughing.
“What?” said Laura.
Diana Ross was gone, the ring tone replaced with Natalie Imbruglia’s “Torn.”
“Is this what you do with your spare time now? Shop for ringtones?”
“If it gives me pleasure in life to shop ringtones, I feel I have the right to do so.” She answered her phone. “Hello? Hi Marc, how are you?”
I could tell Laura was talking to her divorce attorney. She sat there listening, and as the seconds ticked by, her facial expression was changing. The smile faded quickly, a combination of shock and worry taking its place. Whatever he was telling her was also causing her to turn white. It was brutal to see.
“Thanks for letting me know,” she said, “We’ll talk soon.” Then, she hung up and shouted, “That fucker!”
“Aunt Laura!” said Izzie, “You’re in trouble.”
“I’m sorry, Izzie,” she said. Then, she turned to us. “That was my lawyer. Alan filed!”
“No offense, but are you surprised? I mean, if you’re engaged to someone else, it makes sense to get divorced first, right?”
“That’s not helping,” Laura snapped.