“Are you sure?” I asked Diane. She’d kindly offered to take me shopping and I was trailing behind her like a lost puppy.
“Yes, absolutely! We will find the perfect outfit for you here,” she reassured me, tucking one arm through mine and pulling me into the shop.
There were tables piled high with cheap t-shirts, tatty jeans, micro skirts, clunky shoes, and flashy accessories that all screamed “made in a sweat shop where English is not spoken.” I started with the t-shirts. Sequined butterflies? Anime characters? Pastel unicorns? None of it really seemed right. Then I saw it. There was a tall stack of shirts with Jack’s face printed on the front and the words “Future Mrs. Jack Garcia” forming a heart around it. Yes. That was perfect. I grinned, picturing his expression when he saw it.
Diane came over to me holding up two pairs of jeans. Both were faded and ripped, but one was slightly darker than the other. “I don’t know, Diane, they look like they might disintegrate in the bag on the way home.”
“They don’t have to last you a lifetime, Eve. Just one night. Or most of one night, if you’re lucky.”
“Diane!” I swatted her arm in outrage. “I’m not looking for a hook-up. I don’t do that kind of thing. I just want to go and have fun.”
“Trust me, honey, when he sees you in this outfit, you will have fun.” She leaned towards me and raised her eyebrows expressively. I rolled my eyes in reply as she guided me over to the tables with hair doo-dads, scrunchies, jewelry guaranteed to turn your skin green, and makeup that most likely was banned in several countries. Diane helped me to pick out a makeup kit that looked like Sephora had a love child with a glitter ball and we topped off the look with a sequin-encrusted cross-body bag and a pair of stacked, squishy tennis shoes.
After I’d paid for it all and we’d stowed our parcels in her car, I took Diane to lunch. We had passed a taco truck that smelled incredible and the tacos did not disappoint. We sat at a small table, devouring our tacos and sharing chips and salsa and guacamole.
Eagerly Diane leaned across the table and asked, “So, have you seen him since you got the invite?”
Slowly, nibbling on a chip, I confessed, “No. But I think he’s super busy with rehearsals.”
Diane’s face fell. She really wanted this to be a huge romantic thing.
“He has texted me, though” Her face perked right back up. “He told me that he doesn’t have much time, but he texts me a funny gif every morning and then he texts me to say good night at bedtime.”
Diane fluttered her eyelashes and held her hand to her chest. “Oh, he is so sweet he’s making my pancreas hurt.”
“You know that’s not where your pancreas is,” I pointed out.
“I know that! I just meant metaphorically. He really is thoughtful and funny and…sweet.”
Yes, yes, and yes. Jack was all of those things and more. That’s why I was going to his concert. And why I was so excited to see him. And why I was uneasy about how I felt about him.
I gave my head a brisk shake. I was not going to dwell on negatives. I was just going to enjoy the heck out of this concert!
Diane dropped me off at my apartment and I toted my haul in and laid it all on my bed. My grandmother would be appalled by these clothes. That thought made me smile. She was always so carefully dressed in her beloved Chanel, Dior and Givenchy. She would be aghast that I’d paid actual money for these pre-rags. I carefully stowed them in the closet in my guest room. I didn’t want them to contaminate my lovely clothes. Who knows, with all those synthetic fibers, they might spontaneously combust and ignite my closet.
The next week I had an ongoing fizzy hum in my brain, silently counting down the days till the concert. I knew I wouldn’t see Jack till then, but I felt kind of like a junkie, strung out between my am and pm texts, jonesing for a hit. So, it was with a jolt of surprise that I saw a text from him on Wednesday, just as I was getting home from work.
Jack:“Hey”
Eve:“Hey yourself”
Jack:“I haven’t had dinner yet. Have you?”
Eve:“Nope. Just got home”
Jack:“I just happened to be nowhere near your place and thought maybe I could swing by with some food. Do you like Thai?”
Eve:“Nowhere near my place? How convenient. And, yes, I adore Thai food.”
Three dots appeared, disappeared, then reappeared. And then another ping.
Jack:“Could you come let me in, please?”
I left my front door open and went down the hallway, past the front desk, and opened the outside door for Jack. His face lit up when he saw me and though his arms were loaded with take-out bags, he leaned in to kiss my cheek. I flushed and moved to take one of the bags from him.
“Nope, I got this, Eve. Which way?”
I motioned towards the hallway leading to the back of the building. Jack looked wide-eyed at the vaulted ceiling overhead, the curving staircase with the carved wooden banister that led to the second floor, and the inlaid tile of the entry way. His eyes got even bigger when I ushered him into my apartment. I’d gotten used to the dramatically high ceilings, the rich furnishings, and the tall windows that overlooked the Hudson River. It was a gorgeous apartment, and I’d been very lucky to get it.
