23
Imogen
“So, I have to tell you about this thing I did.”
Nicole and I sit shoulder to shoulder on her couch in Boston, two weeks after I first did the most reckless thing I’ve ever done in my life.
My best friend shoves an Oreo in her mouth, and little pieces of chocolate dust spit from her mouth as she speaks. “What’s that?”
I fan the floating crumbs away from my face. “Nice, very ladylike. Will you pause this for a second?”
We’re on the third movie of the Twilight saga, a guilty pleasure binge we’ve been partaking in since I got here yesterday. I’d had this trip planned for four months, before I even knew that Theo Walsh existed, but I wouldn’t say there wasn’t part of me that was disappointed I wasn’t on Nantucket right now.
With Nic in Boston and my home in Chatham, basically running a division of the family business, I was admittedly lonely. I didn’t have many friends and spent twelve- to fourteen-hour days at the office, so I looked forward to the long weekend trips I made down here to spend with her. Plus, her life in the city seemed so glamorous. Nicole was so free to live exactly how she wanted.
Maybe that’s why I’d abandoned my conservative, reined-in ways two weeks ago.
Nicole does as I ask, and then turns to me. “You’re not thinking about getting a boob job or something, are you? Because you really don’t need one.”
“What?” I shake my head, trying to clear out her crazy question. “No, what? Why would you think that? My mother would never allow my grandmother’s pearls to hang above plastic décolletage.”
She shrugs and goes for another cookie.
“No, I have to tell you … that I slept with a stranger two weeks ago.”
Her jaw stops moving, mid-cookie consumption. “Um, what?”
The words spill out, and I’m unable to stop them. “I was at this benefit, and there was a guy working the step and repeat. He was so handsome, but just not my type. A beard, dark hair, intense eyes. When he took my hand to help me down off the little stage where photos were being taken … I don’t know. I just got this rush. It was so unlike anything I’d ever felt, and my head went crazy. We ended up having sex in a coat closet that night. My parents were a room away … as were hundreds of other people. It was crazy, Nicole, I don’t know what came over me.”
I think my best friend may have stopped breathing. Her jaw is almost on the floor, and she’s staring at me like I just spontaneously grew another nose.
“You fucked a server in a coat closet?” Her voice is all disbelief.
“Um … I mean he wasn’t a server, but yes.”
“OH. MY. GOD. Oh my God, she’s finally cracked. All of that good girl polish and shine has fractured and fallen away, and she’s a real girl.”
My hands shove her shoulders. “Stop it.”
“Wow. I kind of can’t believe this, but sex isn’t something you lie about. Hell, this is the only time you’ve had a one-night stand! Shit, I’m so proud. How was it?”
I shift uncomfortably. “That’s the thing, it wasn’t a one-night stand. I’ve been … seeing him. A lot, actually. We’ve spent practically every day together over the past two weeks. He lives on Nantucket, works construction. Is so far out of the norm of who I date or even associate with. I think I really like him, Nicole.”
She is comatose with shock. “He’s the one.”
“What?” My heart palpitates.
“The guy you’re going to spend forever with. Coat closet guy is it.”
“Nic, come on, don’t be silly. We’re having a good time, but he isn’t exactly Weston material.”
“Oh, fuck all of that. I hate when you go all Weston on me.”
“Language!” I scold her.
“And fuck your language rules, too. Seriously though, this guy is the one you’re going to marry. If you couldn’t control yourself enough to not screw him in a coat closet within the first hours of meeting him, then he is the one who finally brought Imogen to her good girl knees.”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“Mark my words. This is the man you’re going to spend the rest of your life with. Because if he can unlock the conservative cuffs your family has had around your wrists since the day you were born, then he’ll be able to show you the world. Imogen, this guy is the one.”
Almost six years ago, I needed to vent to my best friend about the guy I’d just had a passionate tryst with. And now, I needed her again.
Nicole picks up the phone on the third ring. “Hey, chica!”
I cut right to the point, the sound of the plane engine drowning out my self-doubt. “So, I have to tell you about this thing I did.”
There is exactly one second of silence before an ear-splitting shriek has me pulling the phone away from my head. “YOU HAD SEX WITH THEO!”
Well, at least she remembered our conversation from the past as well.
After a couple of “yays” I decide to interrupt her. “Calm down, crazy. I need a vent session and if you could please not wake your sleeping baby, that would be great.”
“How do you know Odie is sleeping?” Nicole quips.
“Because it’s seven p.m. and my goddaughter is an angel, of course she’s asleep.”
A chuckle from the other end of the line. “Fine, you’re right. On both counts; she’s an angel and asleep.”
“Thank you.” I stick it to her that I proved my point.
“Anyways, back to what really matters … you knocked boots with your husband! Or ex-husband? Or baby-daddy, that too, let’s not forget.”
I rubbed my bump. “I don’t think anyone could forget that.”
“Well, maybe your baby daddy, because he didn’t know. What did he say when he found out? And how was the pregnant sex? Like scratching a really good itch, right?”
I chew on my lip. “Um … he may or may not still be in the dark about the baby.”
More silence. And then lecturing. “Immy, are you for real? The man stuck his dick in you, and he does not know that his flesh and blood is growing just a little farther up the canal?”
Guilt seizes my stomach. “I know, I know … it’s really bad. But it was all so quick, and I left my shirt on. Nicole, what have I done?”
“Exactly what I wanted you to do. It was all part of my evil plan. Barbecue to banging … I should make a cookbook with that title. It would probably sell out.”
I rolled my eyes to myself but had to laugh at her ridiculousness. “Be serious, please. What did I do? I had such a good grip on things. Theo and I were amicable, my family was accepting me back into the fold, we were getting somewhere in the divorce and job process. Now, I’ve bungled it all.”
Nicole makes a psh sound. “Imogen, you can lie to your family, and Theo, and maybe even yourself. But don’t lie to me. You didn’t have a good grip because you had no grip at all. Take away all of the rest of it, the baby, the job, everything … and you’re still in love with your husband. So that’s the first thing that you claim to have solved except it’s not solved at all. Second, you are pregnant with his baby and haven’t told a soul except me, so you didn’t have a good grip on that situation. Third, it’s been months since you told your parents that you wanted to separate from Theo, and there has still been no discussion about the terms of your promotion. Stop denying what is actually going on.”
Leave it to Nicole to be my best, if not hardest, mirror.
The stewardess asks if I want a drink, and I shake my head no.
“Where are you?” Nicole asks, having heard her ask me.
“On my family’s plane, headed for Vail.”
“You’re running away. Come on, Im.” Nicole sounds disappointed.
I sigh. “I needed this, Nic. I had to clear my head. I can’t think at home. The Cape has too many memories, too many ghosts and real-life nightmares that I have to get past to see things clearly.”
I can almost hear her thinking on the other end of the phone.
“Fine, take the week to think. And think hard. Don’t talk to anyone, especially not your family. But I’m going to say this one more thing, and you better think about this one the hardest.”
My heart heaves, because I know what she’s going to say. “What’s that?”
“Imogen, this guy is the one.”