Daria was not my one true love. Poor thing had my mom fooled and, as much as I appreciated the effort to impress my parents, it was clear the moment she stepped out of her bright yellow sports car, Daria was not the sweet innocent young lady my mother thought she was. No, Daria was far from that.
Sure, she was nice enough. And the way she presented herself, she had . . . a lot to offer a guy. If I was interested. I wasn’t. I may not be looking for a relationship but I do know obvious come-ons and a woman who displays her assets for all to see is not what I’m looking for when the time does come. My mom was startled when Daria walked in wearing a skin-tight leopard print dress with four-inch stilettos. Her breasts were pushed up in what I only assume was some sort of animal print bra and to match her almost exposed panties. My dad almost couldn’t contain his laughter when my mom struggled to maintain eye contact. I get it, each time Daria reached for one of the plates of food on the table, there was a chance she’d pop right out of the top of her dress.
Daria explained that she was visiting her aunt for a few weeks while she worked out some personal problems. Her aunt demanded she dress demurely when attending Sunday services, but she hated the long skirt and high collared top she had to wear. She proceeded to explain that was why she’d worn the same outfit two weeks in a row. I guess my mom assumed she was just frugal and only had one church outfit. My poor mom. By the time she was getting dessert ready, I’d already had my thigh squeezed twice and Daria’s phone number tucked in my pocket. I begged out of apple pie and ice cream, leaving my poor parents to let Daria down for me. It’s the least they could do after the way she tried to stroke more than my ego under the table.
Tonight, I put the final touches on Ben and Piper’s gift and made a list of duties for a helper, or apprentice as Minnie, Owen’s girlfriend, called the position. She said if I call the kid, I assume it’ll be a kid, an apprentice I could get away not paying someone. That seems kind of shitty. So, while I’ll use the title of “apprentice” because it’s better than “do the grunt work,” I’ll still pay whoever I find a little something. I only hope I can find someone that knows how to use my tools or, at the very least, picks up on the stuff quickly.
Once I’ve closed my shop, formerly known as my garage, I head into the house for a shower and a good night’s sleep. I’m just about to hop in the shower when my phone signals a text message from my brother.
Wyatt: I heard Mom’s latest fix up was a bust.
Wyatt: Literally.
Me: Haha. You’re a comedian now?
Wyatt: Don’t be a baby
Me: When will she stop? You never dealt with this
Wyatt: Nah, by the time I was your age I was knee deep in regret and debt. She gave me a pass
Me: Yeah well, this bites. I don’t know what her rush is
Wyatt: You’re her “baby boy” she wants to see you taken care of.
Me: Yeah well, she may be waiting a while. I don’t see it happening anytime soon.
Wyatt: That’s when it happens little bro. When you least expect it.
Me: Whatever. I need to shower
Wyatt: Raquel said she needs to talk to you about a project. I told her to back off.
Me: It’s fine. We’ll talk. Not til after this wedding.
Wyatt: Sounds good. Take care, bro. Talk later.
Just thinking of the wedding has my anxiety up. I hate dressing up, and now Piper’s decided the groomsmen need to give a speech or some shit at the rehearsal. I still don’t understand what we’re rehearsing. We greet people, we seat them, we walk down the aisle, we get drunk. Seems simple to me. But tomorrow night we’ll be gathering at Ben’s parents’ for a rehearsal and then Owen and I get to give a speech. Fabulous. Thankfully I’m good at improv and can usually get the crowd laughing. Keep them laughing, keep it simple, and whatever I do, talk about how pretty Piper is and what a dumbass Ben is, and I’ve got it in the bag.
I laugh to myself as I quickly shower off my day and my work in the shop. The sawdust from my shop swirls around the drain as I rinse off the soap and hang my head, allowing the water to pound on my neck. It’s times like this I wish I had a woman to cuddle up to. To talk about my day and what’s happening tomorrow. To ease the stress of giving a speech. Some nights, the single life sucks.
Okay, most nights the single life sucks. If someone came along and caught my attention I wouldn’t turn down the opportunity, but I’m not sure how I’d meet a woman these days. All my friends are happily in relationships, and my work keeps me busy. Unless there’s some sort of divine intervention, I don’t see how I’m going to ever meet someone.
Owen is a shit. He just brought the house down with his speech. His heartfelt and emotional words, clearly Minnie helped him write the speech regardless of what he said, made my “Ben, you’re a lucky bastard and better not screw this up” speech sound like child’s play. I’ll kick his ass later.
The evening has been fun and low key just like Ben and Piper. If you had told me a year ago we’d be sitting here at their rehearsal dinner with Ben’s ex-girlfriend as the wedding coordinator, I’d have told you to share what you’re smoking because that’s some good shit. Not that Ben and, excuse me, “Biper” as Ashton is requiring us to call them, being together is a surprise. The reality is, there is no person better for the other than Ben and Piper are for each other. They make being together seem, well . . . seamless. If I’m lucky enough to have even ten percent of what they have, I’ll be a lucky guy.
One day.
I walk to the makeshift bar and grab a cold beer before turning to observe my friends. Ben, Jameson, Owen, and I have been best friends most of our lives. The years after Ben moved away for college we didn’t talk as much, but it never meant they weren’t still my brothers. When he moved back last year, we picked up where we left off in high school. I’ve watched each of us change over the years, but the one thing that has remained the same is our bond. Today, watching each of them with the women who have chosen to put up with their crap, makes me happy for them. I tease, because I can. They’re all good guys, the best, and they’re damn lucky to have found love with three women who challenge and support them endlessly.
It’s a great choice. For them. It’s not where I am in life. While they all make it seem easy and natural, I don’t understand how anyone has the time it takes to have a relationship on top of everything else they have going on.
From what I’ve observed over the years, relationships take a lot of work and patience. I’m a patient guy, but I think I’d prefer a relationship I didn’t have to work on. I’d like a relationship that is natural and easy. Until the relationship gods create that version, I’m not interested in anything remotely close to commitment.