Page 65 of A Lot to Unpack
What was supposed to be a funny joke has actually sounded like me bragging about shagging a bunch of English blokes, and not quite as many Frenchmen, when I have in fact slept with zero Frenchmen, so even two Englishmen would make that statement true.
Thankfully he gets the joke.
‘It must be so difficult for women to put their trust in men after they’ve been lied to – multiple times,’ he says, shaking his head.
‘I mean, what else can you do but hope the next fella isn’t a shit like the last one?’ I reply. ‘The only other option would have been to simply give up.’
I don’t mention my other bad dates, mostly because they’ll make me look like I’ve been stalking him (which, I guess I have, I just didn’t know it at the time), but while I might not like men who get too serious too quickly, or who bleed on me while they’re trying to take off my clothes, it’s always going to be the ones with ill intentions who leave me feeling the most deflated.
‘Wow, okay, so the bar for tonight is super low,’ he confirms.
‘It really is,’ I tell him.
‘Then I think we might be on to a winner,’ he replies. ‘Here we are.’
Now that we’re here, and I’m paying attention, it’s obvious where we are. Well, we’ve been walking and talking, and unpacking the emotional baggage I had intended to leave in my room, but we’re here now, at Rockefeller Center, staring at the Christmas tree.
And not just any Christmas tree, is it? It’stheChristmas tree in New York. The one from the movies, the one you see on the screen, but can’t even begin to imagine how it looks in real life.
It’s beautiful. It’s tall, twinkling, standing proud. I can’t resist snapping photos.
‘Wow,’ I say in a breathy voice.
‘Beautiful, right?’ Jordan replies. ‘I thought you might like it.’
‘I love it,’ I say. ‘I feel like I’m in a movie – and I’m the main character.’
‘Happy to take a supporting role then,’ he jokes. ‘Both off and on the ice.’
‘The ice?’ I repeat back to him.
‘Yeah, here at the rink,’ he replies. ‘Apparently you have to skate here, it’s iconic, but I’ve never got round to it. I thought we could have a go together?’
I hesitate.
‘Ice skating?’
‘Well, I don’t think they’ll let you in with a skateboard,’ he jokes. ‘What do you say?’
‘I should warn you,’ I start, getting flashbacks to my time in Nova Scotia, ‘I’ve only tried it once, and it went terribly. The guy I was with, by the end of it, he had a nosebleed, was covered in bruises, and I must have checked the news for weeks, to make sure no one had been found under suspicious circumstances with internal injuries.’
Jordan laughs. Well, I was joking about that last bit.
‘Sounds kind of fun,’ Jordan says as we head towards the rink. ‘I don’t know what I’m doing either. I’ll bet I’m terrible too. We can be terrible together.’
‘You seem like the kind of guy who would be good at everything,’ I point out. ‘And I don’t want you to get hurt.’
‘I don’t hurt easy,’ he tells me, taking me by the hand.
It sends a shockwave through my body.
He might not hurt easily – the problem is, I do, and not just on the ice.
The thing is, I’m having such a great time with him, being in his orbit, so I would probably do anything he suggested. So, once again, I find myself lacing up my skates and hoping I manage to stay upright.
We head out and, to my surprise, I’m steadier than I remember. I’m not saying I’m graceful, or at all impressive to look at, but I’m definitely less likely to cause blunt-force trauma than last time, so maybe I did pick up a thing or two.
Jordan skates alongside me, looking a little wobbly too. It makes me feel less dorky, that he isn’t a professional either.
