Intoxicated (35 page)

I paused, realizing that Eric had never set
foot in my office to begin with. He would have no clue that all of
mid-management didn’t have equally appointed workspaces. No before
picture to compare it with.

“You’ll have to stop by and see it sometime,”
I said quickly, “if you ever happen to be in the area.”

“I guess I’ll make it a point to be,” he
conceded, without the slightest edge to his tone. “Why don’t you
tell me about it for now?”

I proceeded to go into great detail about my
new furnishings. My enthusiasm for the space was not faked; I found
great pleasure in recounting all of the touches she had added to
make the once drab room my own. I described every last detail from
the designer guest chairs to the stack of Blake’s business cards
found in my top drawer. Only one item was omitted from mention: the
picture of Blake, Matthew and me that perched upon my desk. I knew
he’d feel slighted that a picture of us didn’t occupy that prime
real estate. I vowed to look for an appropriate photo when I
returned home.

“That sounds really nice,” he mused. He
paused for just a beat before asking, as casually as he could
muster, “Did her brother get you anything?”

“He helped with the decoration of my office.
You know, the manual labor and all. One of the pictures in there
came from him, I think.”

There was no way I was going to mention
Matthew’s true gift to me. My intent for this night had been to
salvage my relationship with Eric, not drive a further wedge
between us. I could only imagine the response if I admitted he was
taking me to a concert on Eric’s home turf. And I hadn’t lied
exactly. Without his help, Blake’s project wouldn’t have come to
fruition near as easily. Adding the “I think” at the end about the
artwork had absolved me of any factual errors. I was in the
clear.

Eric picked at an imaginary piece of lint on
the bedspread. The tension in his body hadn’t disappeared despite
my efforts. He sighed quietly, clearly not finished with the line
of questioning. I anticipated what was coming next.

“Did you get him anything?”

I had been correct. The answer I would
provide had already formed on my tongue. I shifted my gaze to the
area of the comforter he was rolling between his fingers. If the
fabric could speak, it would be screaming for help. With this
visual in mind, I decided to employ a slightly different
tactic.

“I couldn’t just ignore him,” I said softly,
going for the repentant girlfriend vibe, “with him coming over to
Blake’s and all. She told me he was a hockey fan, so I got him some
NHL poster she showed me online. Nothing exciting. I’m not even
sure he liked it.”

“What team?” he asked, still not willing to
let it drop.

“I couldn’t tell you,” I lied smoothly.

He chuckled, relaxing noticeably at my
apparent indifference.

“And what did you get Blake?”

Here I grew more animated, more at ease with
the subject matter. I knew he was only asking to be polite, to
cover his tracks at being so nosy as to my gifts both to and from
Matthew. I milked my exposition for all it was worth, the purpose
twofold. On one hand, it deflected his attention from anything to
do with Matthew, and on the other hand, it further illustrated how
little thought I had given her brother’s present. Eric seemed very
accepting of this, and I hoped he would let it drop completely.

“That was very nice of you,” he praised at my
conclusion, “to include them in your plans. Without including them
in our plans.”

He smirked in an attempt to keep the mood
light.

“I know we don’t get to see each other nearly
enough. Trust me, I wouldn’t set out to ruin two holidays in a
row.”

“If you truly meant that, you wouldn’t have
invited Gracie to the festivities tomorrow.”

I elbowed him gently. “Come on, that’s just
tradition. You know my dad thinks of her like a second daughter.
Sometimes I think he likes her better than me.”

“I could never see that happening.”

“Me either. But she’s local, and more needy
of his attention now that I’m gone.”

The words slipped out before I realized I
didn’t want to ride that train of thought. I silently cursed myself
for dodging one touchy subject in exchange for introducing another.
I had been doing so well. Why had I gone and opened that can of
worms?

“What if that didn’t have to be the
case?”

“Eric, I really don’t want to talk about this
right now. You know how I feel about my job. I’m not about to give
that up and be some kept woman.”

He held his hands up in surrender. “I know, I
know. Trust me, I wasn’t about to suggest that again.”

“Then what? We’ve already established that
Fort Wayne is way too far of a commute from Indianapolis. Unless I
move everybody up there, I don’t see another option.”

“Maybe I should just give you your present
now,” he said with a grin. He extricated his arm from underneath me
and rolled away. “Don’t go anywhere.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” I said, settling
back down on the pillow.

He disappeared into the other room and I laid
there, wondering what kind of a solution could be placed in a box
and tied up with a bow. The twinkle in his eye suggested that he
was quite pleased with his idea. I hated to burst his bubble, but I
couldn’t see how a necklace or earrings would solve this problem.
Maybe he had gone the technology route and bought me a laptop or a
tablet that I could use to video chat. That would be an
alternative, but not exactly the same as being there in person. And
unless he had also purchased ones for my dad and Gracie, highly
impractical.

Eric returned with a bag in tow. The grin on
his face remained as he sidled up to the bed and thrust it at
me.

“Go on, open it,” he urged.

I sat up and took the package from him. Wary,
I peeked inside it as though it held an explosive device. He
laughed good naturedly at my bravado. His green eyes bore into me
as I plucked the tissue paper from the bag and let it flutter to
the floor. He was waiting for a reaction of some sort, but I didn’t
yet understand.

Inside were newspapers. Specifically real
estate sections from local papers stretching from Indy to Fort
Wayne. My brow furrowed as I looked closer at the first one I
pulled out. What was he trying to tell me? Was there an ad for the
bank in all of them, maybe name dropping me as an underwriter? I
wasn’t aware of a current ad campaign, but maybe they had done it
without my knowledge. I was only mid-management, not an
executive.

After moments of awkward silence, I glanced
up at him. Eric stared at me expectantly.

“I don’t get it,” I admitted.

He plopped down beside me and took the paper
I was holding. “This one’s from Marion,” he explained to me like I
was a child and couldn’t read. “There’s also one from Muncie. Some
that cover Gas City and southern Huntington County.”

“Okay,” I drawled, stretching the syllables
out into a question.

“Real estate sections that show houses for
sale between here and Fort Wayne.”

“Okay.”

He set down the paper and took both my hands
in his. Those eyes stared back at me, so earnest and sincere that I
felt a lump form in my throat. My breath caught in my lungs as I
waited for him to explain further. I still wasn’t sure exactly what
he was proposing, but I knew it was major.

“Lauren, honey, I know that I’ve been nearly
impossible to deal with the past couple months. I thought that I
would be okay with your promotion and moving away, really I did.
But I’m not. I know that I’m away a lot, so you would think it
wouldn’t matter, but it does. The thought of you being two hours
away, practically having a whole new life, really bothers me.

“I know how much your career means to you. I
know how hard you have worked to get where you are, and how much
further you can go in time. If you were willing to give that up to
be a ‘kept woman’ I would let you without question. But you are
you, and that’s part of why we’re so good together. You don’t back
down. You make me work for things. You question my judgment.

“So I sat and thought about this long and
hard. How I could make this work. You remember, back in the parking
lot of your old apartment the day you left?”

I nodded.

“I promised you then that we would figure
this out. I’ve been a little slow on the uptake, but I’ve come up
with a solution of sorts. I can’t leave my job in Indy and you
can’t leave yours in Fort Wayne. But we can compromise and live
somewhere in between.”

“You would move? For me?”

“For you, I would do just about
anything.”

“But you love this condo.”

“I didn’t say I was selling it.”

“Then how?”

I wished I could string together more than a
couple words at a time, but my brain was having a hard time
processing his plan. My head was swimming in a fog of
possibilities. For him, this was a gigantic move to prove his
commitment. If only he could insert something about how much he
loved me in his monologue, we’d be nearly home free.

“The mortgage for this is in my name. The
mortgage for our home would be in yours. That way we could have
both.”

My head, formerly in the clouds somewhere,
came crashing back down to earth. I must have contorted my face in
a disapproving fashion as it did so, for he came up for air
quickly.

“You know I bought this place for a song,
Lauren. It’s an excellent investment. We are right downtown, in the
heart of everything. The view is spectacular.”

“All the more reason to sell. Think of the
profit you’d turn. We could put all of that down on our place. We
could have way more house for the money in most of these areas. Or
we could start with something smaller and save the rest. Or do
repairs or something.”

His eyes were a mixture of disappointment and
hope for the future. I saw the recognition behind them that I
hadn’t shot him down completely. My word choice had been
deliberate; using “could” signified that I wasn’t immediately
turning him down, but not quite ready to jump on board.

“We could stay here on weekends,” he
countered, “or if I have an early flight or something, I won’t have
to get a hotel. Think of the convenience factor. Some people would
kill to live here, and we do.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Somehow having a
parking spot here isn’t the same as living here.”

“You know what I mean. Financially, you make
almost as much as I do. If I can pull this off,” he gestured to the
view out his window, “imagine what you can get. You with your
connections at the bank. And if we stumble upon our dream house,
I’ll consider adding my name to it to sweeten the deal.”

“You’ll consider it?” I asked, practically
choking on the words.

Eric nodded, totally serious.

“While I appreciate the gesture, to me it
sounds like I’m the only one who would be taking a risk. Call me a
traditionalist, but if it would be our house, both our names should
be on it.”

“I’m thinking practically here.”

“So am I. It’s not signing some one year
lease or something. This would be a mortgage. It would be me
putting my income and my livelihood on the line as a testament to
our relationship.”

“True.”

“And you offering nothing new. You keeping
your place ‘just in case’ something bad happens.”

“I never said I wouldn’t help pay for it. And
this place is just as much yours as it is mine.”

I laughed sharply. “No it’s not. Yes, this is
a beautiful home, Eric, but it’s not mine. This is your bachelor
pad. A little decoration and some window dressing won’t change
that. Call it what you want, but this is your backup plan.”

“Lauren,” he said, folding his arms across
his chest and pouting slightly, “we have been together for ten
years now. I’m hardly going to leave you high and dry.”

I stared at him blankly, making a point with
my silence.

“Look, just promise me you’ll think about it.
At least give me that much.”

“Fine. I’ll consider it. But no more talk
about it until the new year. I need some time to get my head around
it.”

“Fine.”

I peeled back the comforter and wrapped
myself in its warmth, positioning myself as far away from him as
possible. He gravitated towards me as he climbed under the covers.
Reluctantly, I allowed him to curl his arm around me. I pretended
to fall asleep, relaxing my muscles as much as possible so he
wouldn’t continue the conversation. He didn’t pick up on my charade
and soon fell into his own authentic slumber. It was hours later
before my eyes finally gave in and I fell into my own dreamless
sleep.

So much for making the boyfriend happy.

“I swear that’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever
heard,” Gracie commented bluntly.

We were sitting at my father’s house in my
old bedroom having some much deserved girl time while the guys were
watching television in the other room. With the door closed and
firmly latched behind us, I felt comfortable enough to tell her in
hushed tones about Eric’s supposed gift to me.

“I know, right?” I stared down at my
hands.

“Don’t tell me you’re considering it.”

I shrugged. “I told him I’d think about
it.”

“Tell him you thought ‘no’.”

“I kind of thought I made that clear. But the
more I thought about it last night, the more I realized that he’s
trying.”

“He needs to try harder.”

I sighed. “In order for this to work, we both
have to make compromises. He’s willing to accept that I want to
keep my job-“

“I can’t believe you just said that with a
straight face.”

“It’s a complete one-eighty from where he was
just a couple of weeks ago. Back then, he still wanted me barefoot
and pregnant in his kitchen.”