Things I'm Grateful For, Part I

I'm back and so is that third roll on my stomach. I ate pecan pie for breakfast every morning for a week and as a snack after my mid-morning nap. Not having to work is the greatest.

It's fortunate I'm such a good eater, because I needed my sustenance to deal with the drama-rama of the last week. Let's re-hash. It's going to be in two parts, because I'm not good at keeping things short and sweet.

Ashely asked me if she could come out to my house for Thanksgiving a while back—ever since she broke up with Tom, her family has been even icier than usual. "They didn't even like him," Ashley said. "They're just mad that I caused a to-do. WASPS don't cause to-dos."

"You should have been raised Catholic," I said. "It's all we do."

"Josie, you've been to church like three times your whole life."

"Maybe it's just me and my Mom then."

Then I got a call from Nina at work, the morning after she disappeared with Nick. "Brad and I broke up," she sniffed.

I sighed. I was not going to be swayed by Santa Claus tears! "Nina, I'm not trying to be insensitive but what the hell were you thinking last night. I don't want"—I lowered my voice to a whisper in case Frank had Superman strength hearing—"Nick getting wrapped up in whatever is going on between you and Brad."

"I know," Nina wailed. "I was just so mad at him for making me feel so, so...dispensable, and Nick made me feel the opposite of that. Also he looks like a young Benjamin Bratt, so..."

I glanced over my shoulder to make sure Frank's door was still shut. "Did you guys hook up?"

"No," Nina said. "I swear, we just talked. I told him about Brad. He gave me a guy's perspective."

"Which was....?"

"If Brad really wanted to be with me, he would find a way to be with me. Stay here or ask me to move with him."

"Nina, you've only been together, what? Eight months?"

"Ten."

"Still," I said, "under a year. He doesn't want to turn down a great job but he's also not ready for you to move for him yet. But that doesn't mean he won't be."

"I can take a hint, Josie."

"So what did you do? Break up with him?"

"He didn't even fight me on it. He said he understood." There was a pause and all I heard was cars honking. "It was like he was waiting for me to do it."

I felt stung for Nina. "Well," I said lamely, "there will be others."

"That's what I want to talk to you about."

I waited to hear what she was going to say next, even though I already knew.

"I like Nick, and I think he likes me."

"You've spent three hours with the kid."

"There's something there, Josie. I don't want things to get weird between us but I can't ignore this connection I have with him."

"What do you want? My blessing? You're an adult. Do what you want."

"That sounded sincere."

"I can't really talk about this right now," I said. "I'm at work."

"Okay," Nina said. "I'll let you go." She sounded so sad. I'm not used to seeing Nina like this.

I realized something. "Weren't you supposed to go to Brad's for Thanksgiving?"

"Oh," Nina said. "Yeah. That isn't happening, obviously."

"So are you going home?" Nina's parents moved to North Carolina a few years ago.

"Nah," she said, "ticket's too expensive at the last minute."

I couldn't bare the thought of Nina spending Thanksgiving alone, even if I was a little bit annoyed with her. "Do you want to come out to New Jersey with Ashley?"

"Are you sure?" Nina asked. "I don't want to impose."

"You're not imposing," I said. "My Mom loves you."

"I'd really like that," Nina said. I could tell she was smiling.

Right before I rushed out of work on Tuesday to catch the 5:50 to Summit, Frank called me into his office. "I just wanted to thank you for hosting Nick the other day."

I waved my hand. "It was nothing. I hope he had a good time."

"I'd say he did," Frank said, "he's been walking around with the goofiest damn grin ever since that night. So whatever you did," Frank coughed over the next two words.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

Frank coughed again, then barely audible, I heard him mumble, "Thank you."

Well, spank my ass and call me Shirley, I never thought I'd see the day Frank expressed gratitude to me for anything. Apparently Nina must be a really engaging talker. Rightttt.

I listened to M.IA.'s Bad Girls on repeat the entire train ride out to Summit. I'd lost of piece of my swagger with Ian, and I needed to reclaim it before I saw him again. I didn't know how the night would go—I assumed we'd go out to dinner, maybe grab a drink. It's not like we could really hook up or anything since we were both shacking up with our parents. I wish I could say I was relieved logistics took that option off the table, but I wasn't. I was disappointed. I like Ian way more than I want to like him. It's something about knowing that he thought about me all these years, and that we met again as two different people but underneath the gloss of our new jobs and social lives, we both know exactly who the other is at their core. It's a kind of intimacy that usually takes years to develop, but we have it instantaneously.

I spotted Ian behind the wheel of his Mom's Jeep, and waved. He hopped out of the car and jogged towards me, even though I was only a few steps away, to take my one lone duffel bag off my hands.

"Hey." He smiled at me, just a little bit shy, and my stomach hiccuped.

I followed Ian to the car. He held my door open and waited for me to climb in before he shut it securely behind me.

"So what are we doing?" I asked, once he was behind the wheel.

"I got us a reservation at the most exclusive restaurant in New Jersey."

"Ninety Acres?" I asked, excitedly. Ninety Acres is this farm to table restaurant owned by none other than Richard Branson, so you know that ish is legit. It's supposed to be phenom.

Ian turned the car on and reached across me to aim the vent at me. His arm brushed my thigh and he said, "Better."

'Better' turned out to be Benihana, which I love so hard but haven't been to since I was seventeen or eighteen. Ian and I used to go there after our swim meets and refuel with Hibachi Steak.

"This is exactly what I didn't know I wanted," I said, as Ian nosed the car into a parking spot.

Two hours later, we exited the restaurant, stuffed and smelling like stir fry. "I'm so full," Ian moaned.

"Is it bad that I'm not?"

"Maybe you need a beer then." Ian unlocked the car and held my door open for me.

"I could get a beer," I said.

We decided to go to The Stirling Hotel. It's dark and cozy, the perfect place to tuck into a beer on a cold night. The bar was packed, but Ian snagged me a stool. I sat backwards, my beer between my hands, Ian so close that his pelvis pushed up against my knees.

"Nights like this make me never want to go back to LA," Ian said.

"Do you think you'll ever move back here?"

"I want to." Ian hooked his hand around the back of his neck and looked down at me. "Because there are a lot of things I miss about this place."

I looked down at my lap, commanding myself to be cool and not to blush. I failed spectacularly. Ian stretched one arm forward, balancing against the bar and leaning over me, so close our cheeks almost touched. "Can we get the check?" he asked the bartender.

Ian slipped his hand into mine as we walked back through the parking lot. "What are you doing tomorrow night?"

"Some of my friends are coming in and we're going to help my Mom clean and cook and all that good stuff." I glanced at him. "When do you fly back?"

"Friday morning," Ian said. "I guess this was our one chance to see each other."

"But it was good," I said. "I'm really...happy."

Ian slowed to a stop, pulling me up against him. "I know nothing can happen, with us, right now. But I'm not going to be in LA forever. One day, we'll be in the same city...." he trailed off.

"I could see that," I said. We just looked at each other, our breath coming out in white puffs, the temperature just cold enough that it no longer slipped through the air, invisible.

Ian leaned in and I did too. We didn't even kiss at first, just rested our foreheads against each other. When we did, it was one of those slow, lazy kisses you can only have with someone you really know. Ian curled his fingers in my hair, the gesture somehow both possessive but sweet.

Our breath swirled in between us like smoke when we pulled away. Ian laughed, shakily. "Can I sneak into your house later or something?"

I laughed too, then realized he was serious. "Yeah," I said, "okay."

I swear my parents had the basement finished just so they never had to run the risk of opening my bedroom door and finding a boy in my bed. My mom has always been very sex positive and put me on birth control when I got my first boyfriend at sixteen. "For your cramps," she said. My cramps weren't anything Motrin couldn't take care of.

I always had friends and guys over in high school, and we'd always 'watch TV' in the basement. My parents must have known we were up to no good, but I think they figured I was going to do normal, stupid teenager things regardless, and they'd rather have me do them in their own house.

The basement has its own entrance, so I told Ian to park around the corner from my house and wait there until I could let him in. Yeah, I probably could have just brought him through the house, told my parents we were going to watch TV downstairs over their amused expressions, but there's nothing illicit about that, and illicit is a real panty-dropper. (Plus, I needed to quickly run upstairs and shave my armpits. I forgot to that morning and they were bordering on Julia Roberts at the Notting Hill premiere. Look it up if you dare.)

Once I'd taken care of business, I rushed down the stairs to the basement. I could see Ian's silhouette, hovering through the glass panel of the door. I unlocked it and inched it open.

"We have to be quiet," I whispered. "My parents are right upstairs in the living room."

One side of Ian's mouth lifted in a cocky half smile. "That may be a problem."

He scooped me up and shut the door behind him. I let out a surprised yelp/laugh, and Ian covered my mouth. "I thought you said we had to be quiet," he whispered, his breath hot in my ear.

He carried me to the arm of the couch and set me down on it. I'd changed into boxers and a t-shirt upstairs, and Ian slipped his fingers inside my shorts and pushed my underwear aside. He held them there while he pushed inside of me, covering my mouth with his so that neither of us made a sound. His fingers moved on top of me, and I couldn't help but moan quietly. "Don't," Ian warned. "Because I swear to fucking God if your parents come down here and we have to stop...." He held on to the back of my head, continuing the kiss, without finishing his sentence.

When we were done, I leaned against Ian's chest, trying to catch my breath. "When did you say you're moving back here?" I laughed.

Ian kissed the top of my head. "Soon."

After a while, we straightened up and I walked Ian to the door. "This is better than I imagined this would be," Ian said. He gave me a kiss goodbye. "I mean it."

I practically floated up the stairs to my bedroom. I turned off the lights, climbed under the covers, and slipped into sleep within minutes. The only thing better than a food coma is an orgasm coma.



**Part II on Thursday!