“You’re too late anyway,” said Jen, “but now you’re in luck. Bonnie’s here to take your order. Maybe she’ll feel sorry for you and rush it.”
She listened to him chat up their usual server, creating an instant rapport, and was amazed at the amount of food he wanted.
He glanced at her when he was finally done. “What? What?”
“Is my expression so readable?” Jen asked with a laugh. “You’ve ordered
enough for five people.”
“Tomorrow’s lunch is in there. I won’t have to waste time making something.”
He looked so pleased with himself, she wanted laugh. But she also wanted to know more. “So, are you drowning or just totally immersed?”
“Totally immersed and feeling great. But always thinking about the deadline.
This baby opens in three short months. September 14th, to be exact. Mark it in your calendar!”
She’d engrave it in her memory. “Looks like no summer vacation for you, that’s for sure.”
“There’s always next year. This play’s more important now.”
“I understand that,” she said, nodding, but then teased, “so you won’t be jealous when I’m at the Cape? I usually take long weekends, which seem so short! In fact, the whole summer always seems to speed by every year. I guess I like the beach!”
“Time’s a funny thing, Jenny. It’s elastic. It speeds by when you’re happy and busy, and crawls when you’re miserable. When I first got to New York—
hmm….someday, I’ll tell you how slow motion feels.”
Their lighthearted conversation darkened. She’d thought he’d forget about her with all the new challenges he’d faced in the Big Apple. She’d told herself what they’d had was a puppy love. But the longing in his gaze at that moment put a lie to that.
“Wow,” she whispered ruefully. “I knew it would be tough. but my idea wasn’t meant to….”
His smile returned as though it had never disappeared. “Right now, I have an idea you’re going to love.” He stood and called out to the couple of honor, urging Matt and Liz to the table.
“How about you guys plan on a trip back here for opening night of The Sanctuary. It’ll give all of us something extra to look forward to —an excuse for a big reunion.”
Jen watched her girlfriend’s smile grow while Matt nodded. “If we can swing it, we sure will.”
“Oh, we’ll swing it,” said Liz. “I’m excited about Kentucky, but I’m determined not to lose touch with my friends here. My mom still has friends from her childhood, and that is one attribute I want to emulate.”
“Oh, Liz, I’m so glad,” said Jen. Impulsively, she squeezed her friend’s hand.
“We’ve got to find time.”
“No, Jennifer. We’ve got to make time. Laziness is out! My mother said it takes effort. ‘Don’t stand on ceremony. Pick up the phone,’” she always told me.
“She’s never heard of email?” asked Matt. “Texting’s even better.”
“She had plenty to say about that, too! Nothing replaces a phone call or a real visit. So your idea is perfect, Doug. We’ll be here.”
Jen watched the couple walk away and chat with others. Tears stung her eyes, which surprised her.
“Jenny! What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “Nothing. Nothing. I’m just an idiot.” And now he’d have questions. The guy was totally tuned into her.
“You won’t lose Lizzy, sweetheart. You heard her.”
“I know. It’s just…” Well maybe he deserved the truth. “I’m not Liz.” She could barely get the words out.
“And?” he replied softly, his tone neutral.
She glanced up. “Tuned in” was barely the right expression. He was laser-focused on her. “I admire her attitude. She’s brave to go so far away. Despite everything, I-I still don’t think I could do it,” she whispered, as tears threatened once more. And if she couldn’t, she’d disappoint him again.
In an instant, he stood next to her. “C’mon.” He pulled her up and held her close.
“No one’s forcing you, Jen. I’m certainly not. And think about this: if that
confession is upsetting you… you’ve actually opened yourself to possibilities.”
Had she? For a long time, the idea of leaving her family had been a closed door.
She’d slammed it shut and thrown away the key. Until Doug had come back.
Until she’d opened up her eyes to those around her, like Liz and Matt. She’d hidden her head when other co-workers had relocated, but she couldn’t hide this time. Liz was a real friend. So was the rest of her Friday night crew. “I guess nothing stays the same,” she admitted, “and that gives me a stomachache.”
“I know.”
“Are you a shrink in disguise?” she asked, suddenly suspicious, and suddenly recalling that he’d minored in psychology. “Sometimes I think you know me better than I know myself.”
