29 March 2006

Wednesday morning.

My stomach is roiling. I have my first solo client visit later this morning in West Chester, and I am seriously anxious. I’m going to a law firm to give a web demonstration to one of my firm’s top twenty clients.

Despite my inner turmoil, I am aware that I look every inch a calm, competent, professional woman. I am wearing my best Kasper pantsuit—a well-tailored black one with magenta pinstripes—a powder-pink silk shirt, and black hose and heels. Better still, my hair is behaving itself for once.

I’ve only been at my desk for about a half-hour when my email notification bell dings. I pull up my Inbox and see a message from David with a picture attached. Wonder what this could be.

hey kiddo, sup

i just wanted to ask for a favor and shoot up a prayer for me. i'm going on a job interview at a co. called XXXXXXX, so i hope you get this in time, because your prayers always work. P.S. have a nice day!


Clicking on the attachment, I grin when I see the photo pop up on my monitor. It shows an animated snow leopard cub pawing at a globe. When we were dating, my nickname for David was Tiger, and he called me Kitten. We were forever finding new ways to incorporate that symbolism into our everyday interactions. Old habits die hard.

I grab the phone at my desk and call him, excited, wanting to know more about the job. We begin chatting about the company and I ask him how he plans to get there.

“I’m gonna take the bus out there, and then ride my bike to the building,” he tells me.

“You’re what? No way,” I insist. “I know exactly where that place is. You’re gonna have at least a four-mile ride from the bus stop to the company, and it’s very hilly, and the roads are narrow and dangerous. Besides, you can’t show up to an interview on a bicycle…you’ll be sweating your ass off! Look, I’m going to be out in that area anyway for a client visit. Why don’t you call me when you get off the bus and I’ll pick you up and drive you over there?”

“Nah…no, thanks,” he counters. “Don’t go to that trouble for me.”

“It’s no trouble,” I assure him. “Really.”

“Well, if you’re sure it’s okay,” he replies, and I insist that it is. I wish him luck, hang up the phone, and head down to my SUV.

The client visit goes smoothly. Afterwards, I stop at a pizza parlor for a quick lunch. Everything is running on-schedule, but I still haven’t heard from David. As I unsuccessfully attempt to finish my slice of pizza, I contemplate our impending reunion. It has been three years since I have laid eyes on him. Three long years. A lot can change in three years. I wonder how he looks. I wonder what he’ll think about how I look. At least he picked a day when I’m dressed to the nines. Funny how the timing of these things works.

My phone rings just as I’m paying the bill.

“I’m here,” he announces.

“Okay,” I tell him. “I’m just leaving the pizza place now, and I’ll be there in about five minutes. I’ll meet you in the parking lot next to the unfinished furniture store. Look for the gold SUV.”

“SUV, huh?” That’s right…he’s never seen my new car. “Nice!”

I just about fly over to our meeting spot, noting in transit that my stomach has returned to doing flip-flops. His back is to me when I pull into the parking lot, his bike propped up against one of his long legs.

I tap the horn and he wheels around, surprised. I shift into Park, jump out of the driver’s seat, and walk around the back of the car to meet him. I smile. “It’s good to see you.”

He returns my grin and hugs me tightly. “Good to see you, too. Thanks for doing this. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Ahhh, it’s nothing. Here, let’s get your bike into the trunk.” I lift the door and together we hoist his bike into the back of the SUV, then climb into our respective seats.

I carefully pull back onto the road and head towards his destination. I can feel his gaze on me, assessing me, and I feel like I’m about to jump out of my skin. The immediacy of him right here next to me is almost too much to handle.

I try to play it cool. “So, how’s life?”

“It’s good…” he trails off. I glance down at his hands, which are resting on his knees, and notice that they are shaking uncontrollably. Suddenly, I feel much better.

“You’re shaking,” I point out. “Are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah. I…I can’t believe how nervous I am.”

I feign curiosity. “Nervous about your interview? You’ll do fine!”

“No…nervous about…this. I just can’t believe I’m here with you…it’s been a long time.”

I giggle. “Well, don’t feel too bad. Cause I’m nervous, too!” We smile at each other across the console. I grab his left hand and give it a squeeze. “But remember, it’s just me! Little old me! You know me! So don’t be nervous.”

“Jen’s pregnant,” he says, shifting the subject to his sister in New York.

“She is? Oh my God, that’s great!” In my jubilation, I let go of the steering wheel to clap my hands, and the SUV begins to drift onto the shoulder of the narrow road.

David grabs the wheel and corrects it. “Uh…keep your eye on the road, please,” he chuckles nervously, and in that moment, it’s like things are the way they’ve always been with us, like nothing has ever happened, like nothing has changed. He must feel it, too. The charged air between us is too strong, too insistent to be ignored.

I pull up to the building where his interview is being held. He reaches across the console and wraps his arms around me. “Thanks for doing this again…you didn’t have to.”

I close my eyes and return his embrace. “I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. We’re friends, David, remember? Friends do this kind of stuff for each other.”

He pulls back a bit and plants a firm, long kiss on the side of my head. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck. Call me and let me know how it went, okay?”

“Yep,” he replies over his shoulder as he jumps out of the seat. He opens the trunk of the SUV and manuevers his bicycle onto the asphalt parking lot, then closes the door and thumps twice on my rear window.

I drive away, watching him in my rearview as he approaches the entrance of the building.

This was it, I think to myself. After today, I’ll probably never see him again.