As far as our own wedding date, well, we haven’t set one. We talked about it one night and agreed that we will get married when and wherever it feels right. No dates. No planning. No five-thousand-dollar dress that I’ll only wear once. No matching the flowers with the décor. No best man or maids of honor. All of that stuff stresses both of us out just thinking about it.
We’ll get married when we’re ready, and we both know that the wait has nothing to do with not being sure. It’s what we both want, there’s no mistaking that.
I hear Andrew rustling the keys in the apartment door and I meet him there. I jump up, wrapping my legs tight around his waist, and kiss him fully on the mouth. He slams the door shut with his foot and wraps his arms around me, keeping his lips locked with mine.
“What was that for?” he asks, pulling away.
“I’m just excited.”
His dimples deepen.
I hold on to him with my arms draped around his neck as he carries me through the living room and into the kitchen.
“I wish I would’ve taken you home sooner,” he says, setting me on top of the bar. He stands between my suspended legs and tosses his keys on the counter.
“None of that guilty stuff,” I say, pecking him once on the lips. “I’ll miss Texas if I stay in North Carolina too long, I’m sure.”
He smiles but doesn’t seem convinced of that.
“You don’t have to make a decision now,” he says, “but I do want you to decide where we’re going to live, and I don’t want you picking Texas because of me. I love my mom, but I won’t be as homesick as you.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Because I’ve lived on my own for a while,” he says. “You never got the chance to do that before you left Raleigh.”
He grins, stepping back subtly, and adds, “Besides, you’re all hormonal and crazy and shit, so I’ll gladly do whatever you say and you won’t get any arguments from me.”
I playfully kick my leg out at him, but miss him on purpose.
He leans in between my legs, lifts the end of my shirt, and then presses his warm lips against my belly.
“What about Billy Frank?” I ask as he lifts upright. “If you leave him again he might never hire you back.”
Andrew laughs and makes his way around the bar and toward the cabinets. I swing around on the top of the bar to face him, hanging my legs over the opposite side.
“Billy Frank has been my boss off and on since I was sixteen,” he says, taking down a box of cereal. “We’re more like family, so it’s not your average mechanic job. I need him more than he needs me.”
“Why do you still do it?” I ask.
“What, work under a hood?”
I nod.
He pours milk over the cereal he just made and puts it back in the fridge. “I like working on cars,” he says and then takes a monstrous bite. With his mouth full, he goes on, “Kind of like a hobby, I guess. And besides, I like to keep the money flowing in the bank.”
I feel a little small, not having a job yet. He senses it, like he seems to sense just about everything. He swallows the food and points his spoon at me. “Don’t do that.”
I just look at him curiously, pretending not to know about how easily he caught on.
He sits on the bar stool next to me, propping his shoes on the spindles below.
“You do realize you work, right?” he asks, looking at me in a sidelong manner. “Last week we raked in four hundred bucks the night we played at Levy’s. Four hundred in one night ain’t too shabby.”
“I know,” I say. “It just doesn’t feel like a job.”
He laughs lightly, shaking his head. “It doesn’t feel like a job because you happen to enjoy it. And because you’re not punching a clock.”
He has a point, but I wasn’t quite finished explaining. “If we were constantly on the road, didn’t have rent and utilities and a baby on the way, it would be different.” I take a sharp breath and just get to the point. “I want to get a hobby job. Like you.”
He nods. “Awesome,” he says and takes another bite, all the while sitting casually with his arms resting on the bar around his bowl. “What would you like to do?” He points at me. “Note the important keyword in that question: like.”
I think on it a moment, pursing my lips in contemplation.
“Well, I like to clean, so maybe I could get a job at a hotel,” I begin. “Or it might be nice to work at Starbucks or something.”
He shakes his head. “I doubt you’ll like cleaning rooms,” he says. “My mom used to do that before my dad started his business. People leave nasty shit in those rooms.”
I cringe. “Well, I’ll figure something out. As soon as we get to Raleigh, I’ll look for a job.”
Andrew’s spoon pauses just above his bowl. “So your decision is to move back home, then?”
Andrew
5
I didn’t mean to cause her face go all stiff like that. I move my bowl out of the way and pull her toward me, sliding her across the bar top. I rest my arms across the tops of her bare legs and look at her with the most sincere smile.
“I’m really OK with it, babe.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Definitely.” I lean over and kiss the top of her left thigh and then the other. “We’ll go for the baby shower this weekend, come back here and start packing.”
She grabs my hands. “But after we move, we’ll definitely have to come back here in February for the shower your mom is planning.”