Six perfect months later…
“Do you think Dan is acting weird?”
We’re in the bathroom at my new favorite restaurant, this cozy little microbrewery on the bank of a gorgeous river that Jeremiah chose for tonight. We’ve been doing double date nights with him and Becks for about three months now, meeting for dinner every other Saturday and rotating who gets to choose the restaurant.
It’s been great for all of us; Jeremiah and Becky have a regular date night, which keeps the romance alive—and Dan and I, who are still in the honeymoon phase of our relationship, get to go out with another couple that we both love.
Not to mention, have the same taste in dining establishments.
And I say Jeremiah picked a winner with this one.
Standing side by side and reapplying my lipstick in the mirror, I stop for a moment to gather my thoughts as Becky, who shrugs, uses this break to snatch my lipstick, applying it to her own lips.
She is such a pain in my ass.
Nevertheless, she’s my best friend and there’s been something on my mind all night. I can’t shake it off, and I can’t hold it in any longer.
“Becks, do you? Think he’s being weird, I mean…”
She hesitates. “Do I think Dan is acting weird? I always think Dan acts weird, so I’m probably not the right person to ask.” She says this around the tube of burgundy currant then blots with a paper towel, giving her red lips a smack.
“What do you mean he’s weird? He’s not weird,” I say indignantly, snatching my lipstick back.
“He’s totally weird,” she says, snatching the lipstick back again. Sheesh, how much does she plan on slathering onto her pout?
“How so?”
“Well, for starters, how many times do I have to tell him his jokes aren’t funny?” She stares at her reflection and fluffs her hair. She’s gained a lot of confidence in the last few months after hashing everything out with Jeremiah. Confidence really does look good on her.
“Dan is hilarious!” I argue with a scowl.
“Since when? You never used to think his jokes were funny.”
“Well, that’s before I really got to know him. Before I fell in love with him.” I pause, knowing this makes me sound totally biased. But really, Dan is sweet, romantic, funny, sexy—and ridiculous.
“Before you got tickled with his love pickle?”
“Tickled with his love pickle? That is so gross,” I say with a laugh. “Never ever use that line again. Ever.”
“What?” Becky rolls her eyes. “Witty names for penises is something only you can do?”
“No, but that one is horrible. It’s going to give me nightmares.” I try to steer the conversation so it’s back on track, a nervous pit forming in my stomach. “Can you be serious for a second?”
This sobers her up and she touches my arm. “Yes, I’m sorry.”
I blow out a puff of air. “Something feels off tonight, Becky. He’s been really fidgety.” I lean against the hard granite countertop and—freaking A, why is the entire goddamn counter wet? Dammit! Groaning, I begin grabbing paper towels from the dispenser and blotting my dark denim jeans dry. “Something is wrong. I can feel it.”
A thought enters my mind. “Becky, you don’t think…”
No.
No way.
Becky gives me a sidelong glance, not following my incomplete sentences. “What?”
“You don’t think he’s going to break up with me, do you?”
My best friend scoffs. “What! No! No. But I know you said his company was going through a rough patch with the shift in the economy, so maybe that’s it? What exactly is he doing that doesn’t feel right?”
I tilt my head, giving this some serious thought. “Well, when I went to hug him tonight, he got all stiff and backed away.” I take it as a bad sign when Becky grimaces, but I continue. “Then I noticed he keeps checking his phone. Why does he keep checking his phone? Maybe he’s seeing someone else?”
My best friend takes the cap off the lipstick and comes at me with the tube. “Hold still. You missed this corner. There.” Standing back, she nods, satisfied. “I didn’t notice him doing that, but you know him better than I do. I mean… have you been using your Suck-it List?”
The Suck-it List.
I moan into my hands. “Yes, Mom, we’ve been using my list.”
So the thing is, after we made the list for Becky, she decided as a punishment that I needed one, too. It was an ambush during one of our weekly coffee dates. She even drove me to the same sex shop I’d made her walk around in, which was still decorated for the holidays, by the way.
She made me sit there while she wrote out a list of ways to keep the spice in my relationship with Dan.
It. Was. Horrible.
Karma, as they say, is a bitch.
“Well, if you’re using the list, you shouldn’t be having issues. I mean, I know Jeremiah says we didn’t need it, but we never would have had that talk without it. Or explored that part of our relationship. The list works.” Becky looks me up and down, frowning. “Smile! It’s date night! Now let’s get back out there and order dessert before my mother-in-law starts texting me for our ETA.”
“….and then she got stuck because her bib overalls caught the branch of the tree!” Becky cackles, sipping from her wine glass.
I roll my eyes and scowl. “He knows, Rebecca. You told this story the last time we went out.” I only call her Rebecca when I’m incredibly annoyed with her.
“I did?”
“You did,” Dan concurs. “But it never gets old. I can totally picture Nina getting stranded on campus because her pants were too baggy during a fraternity prank.”
He’s called me Nina since our first date, says it’s a constant reminder of how we met and connected online, and he wouldn’t trade our story for anything. Sure, he still uses the name Janine while we’re working, but he loves calling me Nina. And the way he whispers it in the dark… still gives me a chill.
I love him so much, more than I’ve ever loved anyone, if you don’t count my parents and, of course, Becky.
No. Maybe even more than them.
As I shake my head with mirth, Jeremiah shoots me a wink, and the waiter comes and sets four dessert plates on the table. The crème brûlée I ordered is browned to perfection, and I pick up my spoon, anxious to crack the top with a gentle tap.
Yum!
“Wait!” Dan’s voice interrupts just as I’m about to shovel the smooth, creamy morsel into my gaping mouth. “Don’t!”
He’s being really dramatic and I roll my eyes. Becky is right; Dan is weird.
“What? I want it. Why can’t I eat it?” Why is my food intake always being monitored? Vegas buffets, potato salad at company picnics, dessert at my new favorite restaurant. Sheesh! Let a girl stuff her face if she wants to.
In a snit, I drop my spoon and cross my arms. “Dan, wha—”
A tinkling metal circle bounces off my spoon and rolls across the table, leaving a thin trail of vanilla crème. I watch it with wide eyes then look up.
Everyone is staring at me.
Jeremiah winks. I make a mental note to have a chat with Becky about that, but for now…
Becky’s mouth falls open.
Dan stands, and then falls to his knees in front of me, grappling for the ring that Becky has miraculously already sprayed with anti-bac and polished with her napkin.
He holds it between his thumb and forefinger, poising it in front of me.
“Janine. Nina. I know we haven’t known each other long, but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life. Lindsey loves you. I love you.” Dan pauses and we both glance over to the other side of the table.
“Jeremiah,” I hear Becky whisper-hiss. “Get my phone out of my purse so I can use the camera.” She nudges him with her elbow. “My phone. In the side pocket by Sophie’s—here, hand me the purse. I’ll do it.”
Dan and I smile wide, and he continues. “I would never have this go any other way. I wanted Becky here to share it with you.”
Becky sniffles loudly and clicks away on her iPhone camera, capturing the moment for the Facebook page she finally has. “I know how much the two of you mean to each other, and I’ve come to love her like the sister I never wanted.”
“Hey!” Becky starts, but Jeremiah shushes her.
“Nina, you’re beautiful, sarcastic, and inappropriate at times. But so am I. I love working with you, I want to start a family with you. I’m not getting any younger, and Lindsey has been asking for a brother or a sister. So what do you say? Marry us. Make a family with us.”
His proposal is simple and so him. So us. What we have is easy and amazing, and while it might not be perfect, it’s perfectly… us.
Becky is crying at this point, wiping her tears against the folds of Jeremiah’s crisp blue dress shirt, her racking sobs growing louder by the second.
My smile only grows wider.
I love her.
I love Dan.
I say yes.
The End.
Or is it?