Page 48 of A Night to Remember

So instead I just place a palm on his broad chest and try not to think too much about the warm skin beneath his coat. The corners of his mouth turn up in response. But he doesn’t kiss me, because he knows the kids are watching.

23

Gabe

“Sure,itlookslike a normal discrimination complaint,” I’m telling Mark, “but I think the real reason that Mike Schuster wasn’t promoted to Compliance Officer is because David Carey, the Director of Human Resources, is still angry that Mike stole his girlfriend fifteen years ago while David was working at the Lake of the Ozarks Boy Scout Camp. Mike apparently stopped by the diner to see Christine every day after he was done lifeguarding at the swimming pool, and one thing led to another, if you know what I mean, Mark. The fact that neither David nor Mike ended up marrying Christine doesn’t appear to make a difference. How those two have worked together in the same office all this time, I don’t know.”

“Ha!Nowyou’re thinking like a small-town lawyer, Gabe,” Mark says, smacking me gleefully on the back. “Unfortunately for Mike, I don’t think girlfriend-stealer is a protected class. He’s stuck as an administrative assistant, unless he wants to go back to lifeguarding.”

I smile back. I’m enjoying my job at the courthouse more and more. And Mark is right: in a small town, nothing is ever straightforward. Personal relationships are tightly interconnected webs stretching back years, if not decades. They’re fascinating to untangle.

Mark doesn’t treat me like an ordinary paralegal, either. He acts almost like I’m a partner and is thrilled when I tell him I’ve been studying for the bar. He hints constantly and loudly about me taking over “the shop” someday, and I’m starting to wonder whether that might not be such a bad thing.

What would it be like if I stayed in Kentwood? If a certain Girl and I eventually married, bought a house together, and raised a family? Competition and fees for child care would be low, and so would home prices. I could easily support myself and the Girl until she started earning a living from her writing. Being a city attorney would be busy, for sure, but much less intense than being a corporate lawyer, and we’d have a network of friends and family to help us. We could go hiking in summer, sledding in winter (inhelmets,for God’s sake, unless I can petition the city to take out those fucking Frisbee golf baskets). I could listen to the Girl readThe Chronicles of Narniaaloud to two or three adorable little kids, warm and sleepy from their baths, while our shaggy dog lies at my feet.

If that’s whatshewants, of course. On the one hand, she won’t see me publicly. She’s vocally opposed to romance and commitment. She’s clearly hiding something. On the other, she’s affectionate and kind when wearetogether. She responds eagerly to the slightest touch. She’s like a very sweet mistress, and it’s driving me crazy. I want so much more.

Like an idiot, I start to tear up a little thinking how nice it would be to build a life with her, to hang Christmas lights and host birthday parties and squabble over how best to load the dishwasher, when I hear a familiar voice in the front office.

“I have those records you requested from the library, Mr. Pritchard.”

“Come in, come in, and please, it’s Mark! Thank you so much, these will be very helpful in the Gernsheimer case! Would you like anything? Coffee, tea?”

Allison laughs a pleasant little laugh and insists that she has to get right back to work.

“How’s that fella of yours treating you, then? I hear you two are engaged? Well, that’s wonderful, congratulations, he’s a lucky man, if I were a couple of decades younger and not, of course, happily married myself, well, I’d?—”

“I’ll tell Tom you said hi,” Allison cuts him off cheerfully. “And let me know if you need anything else!” I hear her walk out the door.

Impulsively, I chase after her. “She’staken, Gabe, it’s a crying shame, I know—” Mark calls as the door swings shut behind me.

I catch her just as she reaches her car, a bright yellow Volkswagen Beetle parked right across from the café.

“Oh hey, Gabe,” she says, turning to me with a smile. “Sorry I didn’t come say hi, it’s just that Mark will never let me out of there if I linger.”

“Yeah, I get that,” I reply, crossing my arms against the cold. “It seems like he was coming on kind of strong.”

She dismisses this with a wave of her hand. “He’s harmless,” she insists. “Is everything okay with you?”

“I was just wondering, well, you know, I’ve been seeing a lot of Kayla, and…” I’m not quite sure what I want to ask her.Does she like me? Is she seeing anyone else? Is this going anywhere? Where will we be in another eight years?

I don’t tell her that my former roommate Paul told me that Gretchen’s relationship with her boyfriend is on the rocks. I don’t tell her that Gretchen is coming back to town. Gretchen,who agreed to marry me, who I know wants children, who I have already squabbled with about the dishwasher.

I don’t want to get back together with Gretchen. But I also don’t want a mistress. I don’t want to spend my life pining for someone who will never love me.

Fortunately Allison seems to understand without me having to babble all this out loud. She sighs and nods her head slowly.

“The thing you have to understand about Kayla,” she begins, “is that she’s a bit of a black-and-white thinker when it comes to her future. Either she achieves what she wants in thewayshe wants, or she ends up being a waitress for the rest of her life.”

“I would never try to stop her from?—”

“I know,” Allison interrupts me. “But the other thing you have to understand,” and here she smiles encouragingly, “is that she’s a big softy. She’ll always put the people she loves first.”

“And does she love… who does she…” I trail off again.

“She plays her cards really close to her chest,” she says, squeezing my arm sympathetically. “Be patient with her, and I’m sure things will work out the way they’re supposed to.”

This is maddeningly vague, but I nod like I feel better and wave as she drives away.

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