Chapter 15
W hen I meet Vanessa and Sam for drinks that night, I have to work hard to keep the lovestruck grin off my face.
I just had the most perfect day with Charlie.
After brunch, we took a leisurely stroll to Olive Park, since he’d never been before.
We stopped at his apartment to pick up his camera on the way, because I guaranteed him he’d want to take pictures of the skyline.
It’s early September, but it still feels like peak summer, and Chicago’s beauty is on full display.
But even though Charlie was impressed with the view, he ended up taking more photos of me than anything else.
It started with a kiss that got a little carried away.
It was my fault, of course—apparently my tongue has a mind of its own.
But when we pulled apart, Charlie said I looked so beautiful, he wanted to take my photograph.
I agreed, and it turned into a mini photoshoot.
I sat on the grass, with the Navy Pier Ferris wheel in the distance behind me, and Charlie knelt in front of me.
He looked through his camera lens, doing his photographer thing, and he was so sexy, it took all I had not to beg him to break our rules and sleep with me.
I don’t know how I’ll make it through an entire month of only chaste kisses. It’s not that I can’t go four weeks without sex. I’ve had much longer dry spells than that, and been fine. It’s just that this is the first time in years that I have feelings for someone.
And sex with feelings is something I haven’t had enough of in my life.
Not to mention, the connection I have with Charlie is like nothing I’ve ever felt before. If this were a romantic comedy, I’d be dancing in the streets right now, my heart feels so light and free.
“What’s with the smile, Jenna?” Sam asks as soon as I’m settled into the seat next to Vanessa.
We’re in the back corner of a new wine bar on the north side of the city.
It’s cozy and intimate, and the perfect place for girl talk.
Which, I guess, is why Sam follows up her question with another, more direct one: “Wait…did you just have sex?”
A laugh escapes me, and I turn to Vanessa, who gives her friend a heavy dose of side-eye. “Sam, you didn’t even say hello, and you’re just going to launch into questions about Jenna’s sex life?”
Sam shrugs, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Well, look at her, V! She’s glowing.” She turns back to me. “And hello, by the way.”
“Good to see you again, Sam,” I say through a giggle.
Vanessa fixes her gaze on me. “You are kinda glowing,” she concedes.
“I didn’t have sex,” I say, shaking my head, but still grinning.
“New vibrator, then?” Sam asks .
I chuckle. “Nope.” But that’s probably not a bad idea, given how difficult it is for me to keep my hands off Charlie. “Just a really great date,” I continue.
“Looks like Charlie’s still giving you butterflies,” Vanessa says with her bright smile. “That’s her new neighbor,” she explains to Sam.
“How convenient! And judging by the hearts in your eyes, I’m guessing you want this to be more than casual?” Sam says, recalling our conversation at Tati Marie’s birthday party, when I’d told her I wasn’t looking for a serious relationship.
I answer with a vigorous nod.
“Well if it’s going so well, why is he only giving you butterflies, and not orgasms?” Sam asks with a furrowed brow.
“We can always count on Sam to cut to the chase,” Vanessa teases.
Sam crosses her arms. “I don’t get why people are so uptight when it comes to talking about sex. I mean, everyone does it, right? With the right person, it’s a natural, healthy, beautiful thing. Now tell us, Jenna—why aren’t you getting laid?”
“Do we have a waiter yet?” I ask, fanning my face. “I could use a glass of wine for this conversation.”
“We ordered a bottle of red before you got here. Should be coming any minute now,” Vanessa assures me.
“Thank god,” I say on a deep exhale. Then I turn back to Sam. “I’m sure Charlie and I will have sex soon enough…but for now, we’re taking it slow.”
“I’ve never understood that concept,” Sam says with a pensive gaze .
“That’s because you don’t want a long-term relationship,” Vanessa chimes in.
“Yup. I defy gender norms, much to the dismay of my mom,” Sam says, rolling her eyes.
“Is she still calling you an old maid?” Vanessa asks with a sympathetic frown.
Sam chuckles. “That’s my grandma—and the term she likes to throw around is ‘spinster.’ But every time the Lebanese side of my family gets together, my mom ends up crying on her sisters’ shoulders, wondering where she went wrong with me.
Who knew that getting a PhD and a faculty position at an elite university could be so disappointing?
If she found out I’m having casual sex with a twenty-three-year-old barista with a penis piercing, I bet she’d spontaneously combust.”
“Well, I will always have a soft spot for your mom,” Vanessa says at the tail end of a chuckle. “Remember that time she showed up at your apartment in Manhattan, without telling you she’d booked a flight?”
“You mean ambushed me?” Sam raises an eyebrow.
“And since we were hanging out, she invited me to go with you guys to that Middle Eastern grocery store? She was so sweet. She bought me tabbouleh, and pita bread, and, like, four tubs of hummus. That’s when I fell in love with her,” Vanessa jokes. “Food is the key to my heart.”
Sam laughs. “She’s a lovely woman, don’t get me wrong. And I know she means well. She just wants me to be happy—but she can’t understand that my definition of happiness is different than hers. ”
“And includes penis piercings,” I chime in.
“Precisely.”
We’re all laughing when the waiter arrives with our bottle of wine. As he’s pouring, Vanessa’s phone rings. But when she looks at the name on the screen, her smile fades.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
Vanessa sighs, bringing her forehead to her palm. Her eyes are glistening. “That was Nico. He’s been calling me.”
“Oh no.” I scoot my chair closer to Vanessa, so I can put my arm around her. “Do you know what he wants?”
She shakes her head. “I haven’t picked up, and he isn’t leaving messages. I feel awful not calling him back, but we agreed not to talk for a while, and I think that’s for the best.”
A tear rolls down her cheek.
My heart aches for her. She broke up with Nico to find the love of her life, but she hasn’t gone on a single date, four months later. She must be wracked with guilt. Either that, or she regrets leaving him. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world for them to talk.
“You’re not over him, V,” Sam says, as though reading my mind.
“I think it’s pretty clear. I mean, I tried setting you up with that hot psychology grad student I met on campus, but you wouldn’t even consider it.
What if you met up with Nico for coffee, or something?
Because if he’s calling you, my guess is, he’s not over you either. ”
Vanessa sighs. “Nico doesn’t live in Chicago anymore.
When we broke up, I told him I’d move out of our apartment and live with my sister, but he insisted I stay.
He said he’d figure something out. A few days later, he made arrangements to pick up his things and said he’d decided to go back to New York. ”
“So what?” Sam says. “One of you will move again. No big deal. Just call him.”
Vanessa wipes her eyes and forces a smile. “No, I’m just having a rough week, that’s all. Work’s been crazy, and I’m exhausted. I’ll be okay. I know I will. It’s just taking a little longer than I expected.”
Sam leans back in her chair. “Well, if you change your mind about the hot grad student, let me know. And if you don’t change your mind…
well, let me know that, too, because I might go after him when I’m done with the barista.
” She winks at Vanessa, like she’s joking, but I’d be willing to bet she’s not.
“Will do,” Vanessa says with a laugh. “And thank you both for listening. I appreciate it.”
“That’s what friends are for,” Sam replies with a sincere tilt of her head.
“It’s true. Whatever you need, we’re here to help,” I say, squeezing Vanessa’s hand. “I mean that.”
After what she did—taking care of me when I broke down, and finding Esther for me—I wouldn’t think twice about giving her one of my kidneys, if she needed it. I love her like a sister.
Which reminds me. I have an actual sister in New York whose calls I’ve been avoiding for two weeks…
And she deserves an apology.
After Sam, Vanessa, and I polish off this bottle of wine, I’m going home, and straight to bed. Christy usually calls me at 8:00 a.m. on Sundays, but I want to be the one to reach out first this time.
I owe her so much more than that. But it’s a start, at least.
When Christy answers the phone the following morning, her voice is riddled with anxiety. “Jenna? Are you okay?”
Normally, this type of greeting would trigger me, and I’d respond sounding annoyed or defensive. But today, all it does is make my heart ache for worrying my little sister so much over the last several years.
“As a matter of fact, I’m feeling better than I have in a very long time,” I tell her. “And I have you to thank for that.”
“What? Really? Um…why?” she says, sounding as confused as I expected her to. Our conversations tend to be a lot more tense than this, even right off the bat.
“I finally took your advice and started seeing a therapist. You were right that I needed help processing my grief over Hunter’s death.” A wave of relief hits me as soon as I get the words off my chest. “Do you remember the new friend I mentioned? Vanessa?”
“The social worker?” my sister asks.
“Yup. She found me an amazing therapist, and I’ve been going twice a week.
“Oh, Jenna.”
That’s all she gets out before she starts sniffling and crying into the phone. I don’t have to see her face to know her tears come from joy.
“Christy, I’m so sorry for?—”