Chapter 15
“Are you sure?” I asked Diane. She’d kindly offered to take me shopping and I was trailing behind her like a lost puppy.
“Yes, absolutely! We will find the perfect outfit for you here,” she reassured me, tucking one arm through mine and pulling me into the shop.
There were tables piled high with cheap t-shirts, tatty jeans, micro skirts, clunky shoes, and flashy accessories that all screamed “made in a sweat shop where English is not spoken.” I started with the t-shirts.
Sequined butterflies? Anime characters? Pastel unicorns?
None of it really seemed right. Then I saw it.
There was a tall stack of shirts with Jack’s face printed on the front and the words “Future Mrs. Jack Garcia” forming a heart around it.
Yes. That was perfect. I grinned, picturing his expression when he saw it.
Diane came over to me holding up two pairs of jeans. Both were faded and ripped, but one was slightly darker than the other. “I don’t know, Diane, they look like they might disintegrate in the bag on the way home.”
“They don’t have to last you a lifetime, Eve. Just one night. Or most of one night, if you’re lucky.”
“Diane!” I swatted her arm in outrage. “I’m not looking for a hook-up. I don’t do that kind of thing. I just want to go and have fun.”
“Trust me, honey, when he sees you in this outfit, you will have fun.” She leaned towards me and raised her eyebrows expressively.
I rolled my eyes in reply as she guided me over to the tables with hair doo-dads, scrunchies, jewelry guaranteed to turn your skin green, and makeup that most likely was banned in several countries.
Diane helped me to pick out a makeup kit that looked like Sephora had a love child with a glitter ball and we topped off the look with a sequin-encrusted cross-body bag and a pair of stacked, squishy tennis shoes.
After I’d paid for it all and we’d stowed our parcels in her car, I took Diane to lunch. We had passed a taco truck that smelled incredible and the tacos did not disappoint. We sat at a small table, devouring our tacos and sharing chips and salsa and guacamole.
Eagerly Diane leaned across the table and asked, “So, have you seen him since you got the invite?”
Slowly, nibbling on a chip, I confessed, “No. But I think he’s super busy with rehearsals.”
Diane’s face fell. She really wanted this to be a huge romantic thing.
“He has texted me, though” Her face perked right back up. “He told me that he doesn’t have much time, but he texts me a funny gif every morning and then he texts me to say good night at bedtime.”
Diane fluttered her eyelashes and held her hand to her chest. “Oh, he is so sweet he’s making my pancreas hurt.”
“You know that’s not where your pancreas is,” I pointed out.
“I know that! I just meant metaphorically. He really is thoughtful and funny and…sweet.”
Yes, yes, and yes. Jack was all of those things and more. That’s why I was going to his concert. And why I was so excited to see him. And why I was uneasy about how I felt about him.
I gave my head a brisk shake. I was not going to dwell on negatives. I was just going to enjoy the heck out of this concert!
Diane dropped me off at my apartment and I toted my haul in and laid it all on my bed.
My grandmother would be appalled by these clothes.
That thought made me smile. She was always so carefully dressed in her beloved Chanel, Dior and Givenchy.
She would be aghast that I’d paid actual money for these pre-rags.
I carefully stowed them in the closet in my guest room.
I didn’t want them to contaminate my lovely clothes.
Who knows, with all those synthetic fibers, they might spontaneously combust and ignite my closet.
The next week I had an ongoing fizzy hum in my brain, silently counting down the days till the concert.
I knew I wouldn’t see Jack till then, but I felt kind of like a junkie, strung out between my am and pm texts, jonesing for a hit.
So, it was with a jolt of surprise that I saw a text from him on Wednesday, just as I was getting home from work.
Jack: “Hey”
Eve: “Hey yourself”
Jack: “I haven’t had dinner yet. Have you?”
Eve: “Nope. Just got home”
Jack: “I just happened to be nowhere near your place and thought maybe I could swing by with some food. Do you like Thai?”
Eve: “Nowhere near my place? How convenient. And, yes, I adore Thai food.”
Three dots appeared, disappeared, then reappeared. And then another ping.
Jack: “Could you come let me in, please?”
I left my front door open and went down the hallway, past the front desk, and opened the outside door for Jack. His face lit up when he saw me and though his arms were loaded with take-out bags, he leaned in to kiss my cheek. I flushed and moved to take one of the bags from him.
“Nope, I got this, Eve. Which way?”
I motioned towards the hallway leading to the back of the building.
Jack looked wide-eyed at the vaulted ceiling overhead, the curving staircase with the carved wooden banister that led to the second floor, and the inlaid tile of the entry way.
His eyes got even bigger when I ushered him into my apartment.
I’d gotten used to the dramatically high ceilings, the rich furnishings, and the tall windows that overlooked the Hudson River.
It was a gorgeous apartment, and I’d been very lucky to get it.
His voice was low, almost reverential. “Eve, this place is beautiful. Duvier must pay you better than I thought.”
“They pay me plenty well, Jack, but this is not from Duvier.”
“No? What then?”
“It was…” I paused, “a severance package.”
“Very generous severance.”
“Yes, it was,” I answered in clipped tones. “The kitchen is this way.” I started down the hall and realized Jack was not behind me. He was standing in the doorway to the living room, staring like a lovestruck teen at the grand piano.
“Do you play?” He almost whispered the question.
“Oh, no, I wish I did, but no.”
“So why do you have a Steinway?”
“The couple that I bought the apartment from were moving into a care facility. They didn’t want to be bothered with selling the contents of the apartment, so I bought it furnished.
The piano came with the apartment. Even though I don’t play, I think it’s too beautiful to get rid of.
I’ve always had a daydream that someday I’d meet someone who could teach me. ”
“I suppose I could be persuaded, Eve, if you went about it the right way,” he said with a smirk.
“Oh, no, Jack, I wasn’t hinting that you should…I meant I was daydreaming of bumping into some old, cranky Russian woman at the grocery store who would teach me.”
“While I can see the appeal of an old, cranky Russian woman, I think I might be a better fit as a teacher for you, Eve.”
I pursed my lips and turned back toward the kitchen. This time he followed me. He pulled container after container out of the bags and I pulled out plates and cutlery “I don’t have any beer, but I can do sparkling water or wine.”
“That’s OK. I brought beer and wine. Which would you prefer?”
“White wine, please.” He poured our beverages and I opened containers.
“I have to warn you,” I said sternly. “Phad Thai is my absolute favorite dish. It will not go well for you if you try to hog it.”
“Duly noted,” he said, his lips curving up into a smile.
We piled our plates high and took them and our wine to the table to eat. It hit me how oddly domestic this scene was. Just Jack and me, eating dinner in my kitchen, like that was a normal thing. It just felt…right.
“How is work going?” he asked, after he chewed and swallowed his first mouthful.
I held up a finger to indicate my mouth was full.
Phad Thai must not be rushed. I savored the flavors and textures, crunched a peanut, then took a sip of the wine which was crisp and fruity.
I sighed happily. “Work is going well. There is always so much to do. It seems we barely wrap up one project and then we’re knee deep in the next one. How are rehearsals going?”
“Fine,” he said, giving a one-shoulder shrug. “I’m trying to fit a new song in and some of the guys aren’t happy about that.”
“They don’t like the song?”
“Oh, they love the song, they’re just pissed that I didn’t consult with them before adding it to the set list for the concert.”
“Let me guess, Animal threw his sticks at you?”
Jack threw back his head and laughed. “Yup, spot on. You seem to have a good grasp of the band dynamics.”
“Do you feel like you’ll be ready to go on Saturday?”
“Oh, yeah, totally. Most of this stuff we could do in our sleep. It’s just the new song is a bit tricky. But I think it’ll be worth it.”
I took more bites of my food and another sip of wine. “I’m really looking forward to it.” I said, shyly. “I’ve never been to one of your concerts and I can’t wait to see you perform. Thank you for inviting me.”
His smile lit up the kitchen, like I’d given him a gift. “I love performing, but It will make it a thousand times better to have you there, Eve.”
A warm glow that had nothing to do with the wine filled me. He wanted me to be there. I mean, duh, he’d sent me the ticket. But the fact that he said it made me happy.
We finished our dinner making small talk about the band, about performing, and about music in general.
I stood to gather the dishes and Jack jumped up, offering to help.
“No, don’t be silly. You brought me dinner.
I can tidy up.” I felt his eyes on me as I scraped the plates clean and stacked them in the dishwasher.
Feeling a little bit like there was an imbalance, that he kept bringing me food and I had not reciprocated, I asked if he’d like some ice cream for dessert.
His eyes took on a predatory gleam. “Eve, do you know that’s a fantasy of mine?”
“What? Ice cream? Am I going to feel uncomfortable every time I go down the ice cream aisle now?”