Okay. What to do? What to do? I should tell Andrew I’m going away for the weekend without him. He’s not going to be thrilled that I’ll be seeing the Caines. While I think of a way of informing him, I search my closet and realize I need a new dress for the birthday celebration.

Lying in bed, I glance at the George Nelson clock I bought a few weeks ago on eBay. A clock that Andrew thought was a waste of money. It’s almost 12:45 p.m. and this might be a good time to call him. Although my stomach is growling, the call to Andrew takes precedence.

I dial his office number hesitantly, knowing he doesn’t like to get personal calls in the office. I can count the number of times on one hand I have ever called him there. I don’t even know the number by memory. Since I plan to leave tomorrow, I don’t want to wait until tonight to have this conversation.

After the fifth ring, he finally answers. “Andrew Nielsen speaking.”

“Hi, Andrew.”

“Lina?” There’s no mistaking the surprise in his voice. “Is everything all right?”

“Yes, I’m sorry to bother you,” I answer with a hint of embarrassment.

“You’re never a bother. I’m just surprised to hear from you. I can’t remember the last time you called me at work. To what do I owe this honor?” I can hear him munching on a granola bar.

“Julian Caine just called and invited us to Marcel’s 65^th birthday party this weekend. I know I haven’t been in touch with him for years but I would really love to go.”

Andrew continues to munch. “Julian Caine?”

“Yes, Julian.”

“This weekend?”

“Yes, this weekend in San Francisco.”

“Come on; you haven’t seen or talked to him for more than a decade. He left you high and dry years ago. And didn’t you just send the old man a gift?”

“I know … and by the way, that was a bit insensitive of you … but I want to go … I miss them and really want to be there.”

“Insensitive of me? I’m not the one who never returned your calls.” Before I can retort, Andrew continues. “Why? Why do you want to be around them, especially Julian, after all these years?”

“Andrew, you know how close we used to be. Julian was the closest thing I had to a brother. It’s difficult to explain, but I just want to go. I know you have a lot on your plate. I can go with Julian tomorrow on their jet so I don’t have to pay for airline tickets. I don’t even need to get a hotel room.” My fiancé loves free things.

“I don’t want to see you hurt again. It took you years to forget Julian. Remember?” I do remember the years of crying. I remember the feeling of abandonment. I remember my grandfather being upset that I had lost another family. I remember that when my grandfather died, all I wanted was to have my childhood friend with me. I remember it all. “Lina, did you think this through?”

I continue to stare at the photo of me with Julian. “No, of course not. I just received the invitation a few minutes ago. I don’t need to think it through. I want to go. I just do.”

“I don’t want you to go by yourself, but I have to work this weekend. I don’t want you to go.”

“Andrew.” My tone is more forced than usual.

“I know I can’t tell you what to do.” He sighs before asking, “Do you think you’ll be fine without me there?” This is the Andrew I love. The man who, although has been preoccupied with work, still wants to be there for me.

I wait a good second before responding. “I do. I think so.”

“I still don’t want you to go but if you think you can handle it.” He stops as he mumbles something to someone. In a concerned tone, he admits, “Even if I didn’t have to work, I wouldn’t have the stomach to go. I could never forgive Julian for hurting you. Lina, I’m sorry, but I have to go teach my next class. I’ll see you this evening. ”

“I’m sorry for interrupting you at work. Love you, Andrew.”

“It’s always nice to hear your voice. I love you, too,” he murmurs before ending our call.

I turn on some disco music and head for the shower. It’s the only time I can listen to music at home without headphones. Andrew hates popular music. I join Donna Summer when she belts out, “Heaven Knows.”

Warm water runs along my body and I am thrilled to be going to Marcel’s celebration. I think about some of the folks I might run into. The Caines are a small clan, and I can only think of a handful of relatives who would be invited. Relatives were distant, and I can only remember a few who had visited him in the past. I wonder if Julian’s cousin, Alistair, will be there. Then I recall the wedding announcement Marcel had sent me twelve years ago, and I am curious to see what his second wife is like.

The Caines were known for throwing extravagant parties at both their Park Avenue apartment and Westport home, but Julian had mentioned that the celebration would be intimate.

After putting on my usual attire of a wrap jersey dress with Havaianas flip-flops, I grab my car keys and pull out of the driveway. Please don’t let me get into an accident. The car is another subject of a heated argument between Andrew and me. He was adamant I purchase a Subaru because it was safe and economical. Everyone at the university drove one. We argued for several days before I bought a Volvo S60 with my own money. It was rated as one of the safest cars for new drivers. He couldn’t argue after I told him I didn’t touch our joint checking account.

I should just Lyft it, but I need to fulfill my weekly quota. Driving through the side streets like an eighty-year-old woman, Neiman Marcus beckons me. Time to buy a beautiful dress.

* * *

I am on a mission, pounding the aisles of Neiman Marcus with a purpose. Knowing the Caines, the celebration would call for a cocktail dress rather than a full-on evening gown. I try on several dresses before finally deciding on a racerback beaded dress by Mandalay. It’s jade charmeuse with exquisite beadwork that my fingers trace over with excitement. The front deep V neckline and its racerback reveal a bit of skin. Internally debating because of the hefty price tag, I decide to purchase it. Andrew would have my head on a platter if he were the one paying for it. He would never buy this dress for me. I laugh to myself when I’m reminded how frugal my fiancé is.

While waiting in line to pay, I hear, “Lina, Lina? Lina Nielsen?”

Ugh.

It’s hard to ignore that high-pitch, irritating voice that belongs to one of Andrew’s female colleagues. This particular woman is newly divorced and is infatuated with my fiancé.

I take a deep breath and feel the need to hide the dress. Turning around, I purse my lips. “Hi, Janice. It’s actually Lina James. Nielsen is Andrew’s last name. I’m surprised to see you here.”

“Oh, I thought you were lucky in having that handsome man’s name. I’m shopping for my daughter’s bat mitzvah. You and Andrew are coming, right?”

“I … Yes, I believe so.” Andrew hasn’t mentioned anything about a bat mitzvah. Maybe he hasn’t had the heart to tell her we’re not attending. For one, he hates parties. Two, he hates buying gifts. Three, he’s mentioned on more than one occasion that Janice makes him uncomfortable.

“Wow.” Janice points at the racerback dress I am holding. “Are you purchasing that?” Touching the dress, she doesn’t hesitate to look at the price tag and shakes her head. “Pricey. Andrew is not only handsome but generous.”

Yes, Andrew is very handsome. Generous? Not. At. All.

Slightly uncomfortable with this woman questioning my purchase, I glance at my father’s vintage watch. “Oh, I can’t believe the time. I’m running late.”

“Oh, okay. I was hoping we could grab something to eat at Mariposa. We didn’t get a chance to chat after Andrew’s brilliant lecture. I wanted to know if he’s okay.”

“Why wouldn’t he be?” I ask.

“He seems to always be in a hurry every time I run into him,” she says, absolutely clueless that Andrew doesn’t encourage their work relationship.

“He’s fine. He’s just busy with the extra classes. I … I really must be going to my next appointment.”

She moves forward, her hands leaving her side as if she’s getting ready to give me a hug. Do not hug me. I step back. “Uh, good luck with finding the right outfit.”

I only hug people I care about.

I pay for my new dress. Hanging out with Janice would be like getting a root canal. Although she means well … actually no, she just wants to know more about my fiancé. Damn, I have to forgo getting the Jimmy Choo shoes that I had been thinking about for weeks. I have an old pair of nude Louboutins that will work with this.

I can’t leave the store fast enough, concerned that I’ll run into someone else. Andrew has so many female colleagues and students infatuated with him. One of his endearing qualities is that he’s absolutely clueless about them.

I drive west on Santa Monica Boulevard singing along to Bruno Mars’ “That’s What I Like” before asking Siri to call Roger. I love technology! Too bad she can’t drive this car for me.

“Hey, handsome. Are you at Shutters right now?”

“No, I’ve just left a meeting. I’m on my way back to the hotel. What’s up, sweetheart?”

“Let’s meet up for happy hour. I’m leaving for San Fran tomorrow.”

“San Fran? What? Without me?” I can hear him lighting a cigarette. He’s smoking again and that Southern accent of his is going to be stronger than ever.

“It’s a last-minute thing. My Uncle Marcel is celebrating his birthday this weekend.”

“Uncle Marcel? Sweetheart, you don’t have an uncle.” Yup, the Southern twang is back.

“Long story. I’ll tell you when I see you. I’m on Wilshire right now and will be there in about twenty minutes.”

“Since it’s almost four, let’s just meet at Coast. That way, you can be relaxed for your date night.”

“No, that was last night,” I say with no enthusiasm.

“Rock your world, did he?” His laughter is boisterous and then a dry, hacking cough begins.

“Roger, please, you really need to stop smoking. That hack of yours is getting worse,” I scold before offering, “And about Andrew, not quite. But he did try.” I don’t want to continue the conversation about what did not happen last night, so I tell him that I’ll see him shortly. No one wants to hear about an unfulfilled orgasm that was quickly followed by an emotional disappointment.