Alina

 

Eloping. I can’t imagine a sweeter word. After Michal said what he said that night in the pool, I felt a great weight lift off of my chest. Soon, it will just be him and me, with no worries beyond what sort of life we want to start together. Sure, he'll have to slip away from his responsibilities to his father's business, but I'm certain that everything will work out for the best. He is still going out late and doing the awful work that he has to do, but now that there's an endpoint—a place on the horizon that's almost within reach—I feel that I can stomach the current situation for just a little while longer.

 

It's a Saturday morning, and Danica's in town for the weekend once again. She's been a frequent guest at the house, and I'm thinking that it's because she and I are hitting it off more than she's able to with anyone in the city. She frequently complains about the superficial, status-obsessed ways of the women in New York, and I think that she finds me a refreshing alternative to all of that. This is just my guess, but there's no doubt that we're becoming fast friends. Our weekend shopping trips are quickly becoming one of the highlights of the month, and I'm happy to have a good friend. Especially one who's so close to the man that I care so much for.

 

She picks me up around ten and we get right to the shopping. We go to the stores that I've liked from our previous trips, and after a quick lunch, we decide to treat ourselves to an afternoon at the spa.

 

"I have to admit," says Danica, a towel wrapped around her slim figure as we sit in the spa's steam room, her dark hair hanging loosely on her shoulders, "I'm surprised to see that Michal's taken such a liking to you."

 

"Oh?" I say in a playfully confrontation tone. "You think it's surprising that a man would be into me?"

 

Danica smiles and swipes her hand through the air. Her pretty face is sheened with sweat from the heat.

 

"You know that's not what I mean. He's just not one for serious relationships. As long as I've known him, he's always been more of a player than anything."

 

My stomach tightens. I know that what she's saying is true, but I don't like to hear about him with other girls, as silly as it is to feel this way.

 

"But," said Danica, realizing what she's saying. “That just means that he must really like you. I don't think I've ever seen him act like the way he acts with you."

 

I feel a little better. The gossip—that Michal and I want to run off and get married—is right on the tip of my tongue. I've wanted to shout it from the hills since the moment we decided upon it, but know that I shouldn't say a word until things are more certain, especially with Michal's ...work-related activities taking up so much of his time.

 

But, still, it takes all the restraint I have not to bring it up.

 

Danica and I spend the next few hours pampering ourselves, and by the time we're done, it's late afternoon. Stepping out into the parking lot, the air brisk and chill and the sun shining down, I feel like a new woman.

 

"All this relaxing is making me thirsty," says Danica. "What do you say to some wine?"

 

I smile and nod.

 

"Sounds perfect."

 

We hop in her car and drive to a wine bar downtown. Soon after, we're sitting on the patio overlooking the city, a bottle of rose in front of us. Taking a sip of the delicious wine, I think about how nice it is to finally have a friend who I can talk to. My life since my parents’ deaths has been one trouble after another, and now, finally, I feel like my life is something approaching normal—even if my boyfriend is a mobster.

 

Danica and I chat a little more. She tells me about New York gossip involving extremely rich people who I've never heard of but am interested in all the same. It's like hearing the recap of a reality show that I've never seen.

 

"Well," says Danica, pouring herself another glass of wine, "I think that about does it for what's going on with me. Surely you've got some gossip to talk about?"

 

I'm a couple of glasses of wine in and my desire to share my news about Michal has overwhelmed me. Taking a long, slow sip, I spill the beans, as the Americans say.

 

I tell her everything. I tell her that Michal has fallen hard for me, that he's doing extra work with his father in order to make our relationship work, and finished with telling her that Michal and I want to run off and get married.

 

Danica listens closely, as though making sure that she's heard every word clearly and precisely. Finally, when I'm done, she sits back and takes another sip of wine.

 

As soon as the last word has left my mouth, I feel like I've done something terribly, terribly wrong. After all, what's the point of eloping if you're just going to tell everyone about it?

 

But, to my relief, a big, broad smile crosses Danica's lips, followed by a happy shriek as her arms shoot out for a hug. We embrace, and all of my fears are put to rest.

 

"Oh my God," she says. “You have no idea how happy this makes me. I've been waiting for so long for Michal to finally settle down, and to hear it's with an awesome girl like you is even better."

 

"That makes me so glad to hear," I say, feeling much, much better. "I was worried you'd be upset or something."

 

"I mean, I'm a little mad that he's not doing the big wedding thing, but Michal's never been the type for that. But getting married and trying to get out of …the business—that’s all so great to hear."

 

"Do you think your father will be mad?" I ask.

 

Danica waves the comment away.

 

"He's a grown-up; he'll get over it. Men like him don't ever retire, anyway; they work until they drop."

 

"But what about the business?"

 

"Michal will get it when our father dies, and he can do whatever he wants with it. He can probably just sell it to the Irish; they'd be happy to buy out the competition."

 

I'm overjoyed. Danica orders a couple of glasses of champagne, and we make a toast.

 

"To your wonderful future," she says, raising her glass.

 

"Cheers."