Chapter 26 #2
The local event organizer comes to get Johnny, and I don’t even get a chance to straighten his tie again before he’s ushered up to the small stage.
There’s applause. Nathan, Katie, and I hoot and holler.
John tries not to crack up, and he’s pretty smooth as he thanks everyone for coming and starts using words like inclusion and diversity and community and lifting up.
And I’m so proud of him. Not just because he’s so handsome and has such a fantastic penis, but because he really does want to make the world a better place.
He’s a really good public speaker—I know that from watching his TED Talk—but in person, he really seems like a natural.
I love him.
Shit.
I love him.
I’m crying.
Shit.
I use my cloth napkin to dab at the corners of my eyes.
After a few seconds, I realize John’s gone silent.
I glance up and see him staring at me, looking concerned.
I smile at him, trying to look cheerful and supportive and not like a confused woman who can’t seem to tell him that she loves him and is quickly losing her mind.
Shit.
John looks flustered. He fumbles around for words. He adjusts his glasses. He has lost his train of thought, so he just introduces one of the young women who’s studying computer engineering at the state university and gets off the stage.
He returns to the table and takes my hand. “Are you okay?” he whispers.
“Yes. I’m so sorry.”
He shakes his head and gives the woman on stage his full attention while rubbing my back.
After the speeches are over, John’s parents come by our table.
They look at him like they have to console him or something.
His father pats him on the shoulder. “Well, that was… Hopefully you’ll get some nice donations tonight.
We were talking to the mayor earlier, and he seemed very supportive of the foundation before your speech, so…
Good thing you don’t have to give speeches for a living. ” He laughs. No one laughs with him.
He sees my brother and introduces himself—I guess because my brother looks like someone important. “I’m Calvin Brandt, John’s father. This is my wife, Sofia.”
“I’m Nathan Montgomery,” my brother says, standing to shake their hands. “Monty. John’s my best friend.”
“Oh, Monty!” Mrs. Brandt says warmly. “I didn’t recognize you.”
He introduces Katie, and then Mr. Brandt says, “Well, it’s too bad your parents couldn’t come tonight. It would have been nice to have met them for once, since all we ever did was wave at them from a distance. But the puppy thing sounds important.”
And that’s it.
I look over at John, who’s wincing, and I just can’t keep quiet.
“You know what?” I turn in my chair and look up at John’s father.
“My parents were there for Johnny throughout his entire childhood. Where were you when he won the math competitions? You know where my parents were? They were there. You know where John spent every single one of his birthdays and Thanksgiving dinners? Our house. Because my mom didn’t want him to be alone,” I say.
“I hope you’re happy you chose to spend all that time working over spending time with your only son.
If I had to choose between my career or being with this impossible, beautiful man, I would choose Johnny. Every time.”
The words escape my lips before my brain has a chance to process them.
Is that true? Would I choose Johnny over ballet? Over the career I’ve spent my entire life working toward? That can’t be true. It can’t.
I don’t make eye contact with anyone when I say, “Excuse me.” I get up from the table and go outside to get some fresh air and pace around.
The chauffeur who drove us from my parents’ house to this restaurant is leaning against his car in the parking lot out front. He tilts his head, asking if he should pull up. I shake my head.
I can’t believe I just said that to Johnny’s parents. But I’m also glad I did, because nobody else ever will. And I might never get a chance to talk to them again.
I hear the front door of the restaurant open behind me. I don’t look back because I just know it’s Mr. and Mrs. Brandt. They pass me and walk toward the parked cars.
Then Mrs. Brandt turns and walks back to me, hugging herself. She doesn’t seem upset at all, just a little concerned. “I just want you to know,” she says, “that I’ve always been grateful for your parents. Your mother, especially. And Monty, of course. And now I’m glad that John has you.”
I nod. I don’t trust myself to open my mouth and say anything else to her. Also, I’m afraid I’ll start crying again.
They leave, and I hear the door open again and know without looking that it’s John. I feel his hand on my back. “You okay?”
“Fantastic.”
After a beat, he says, “Did you mean what you said in there? The last part?”
I shake my head. “I don’t think so. I’m sorry.
” Right now it feels like a lie, but I have to be true to myself.
It’s kind of the opposite of eating zucchini-banana bread to make someone you love feel better.
I have to eat my own words to make myself feel better.
Because part of me knows I would give up everything to be with this man—and that is so much scarier than never getting to dance the lead in Giselle or not being featured in The Nutcracker next season.
“I’m glad” is what he says. Although I don’t know that I’ve ever heard anyone sound so sad when saying that. “I would never ask you to choose between your career and me. You know that, right?”
“I know.”
We just stand here on the pavement, between the restaurant and the parking lot, for a few silent minutes.
Finally, I ask him, “Are you ready to leave?”
“I don’t think I should leave yet.”
“Then I’ll stay with you.”
“You will?” he asks.
“Of course.”
“Of course. Because of our arrangement.”
“Because I want to be with you.” I don’t mean to sound sad about it, and I really wish it didn’t feel like I’ve been defeated. This must be how he felt when he said he couldn’t control himself around me anymore.
I try again. “I want to stay here with you. Because it’s an important event for you. And because I want to support you. For the same reasons my brother is here for you. Except in addition to those reasons, I also like it when you fuck me.”
A grin slowly spreads across his face. His teeth are really just so obnoxiously great. “I appreciate the clarification. And I appreciate what you said to my parents.”
“I’m sorry if I was rude.”
“I don’t think you were rude.”
That makes me laugh. Of course he doesn’t think I was rude. I was just being honest. It’s what he does. Most of the time. I think.