The Time of Our Life

Tuesday came around too quickly.  I was so excited to spend the evening, after practice, with Zach.  After work on Sunday, he had picked me up, and I let him hang on to my car, since I didn’t need it again until later in the week, and he could just come back and get me after practice.  I was going to drive him to the airport Wednesday.  He showed up to the courts while we were finishing practicing.  When I got done, I walked over to him, to the teasing and giggles of my teammates.  He grinned when he saw me and said, “Man, Aleah, if you walked around in your tennis outfits all the time, it would possibly tempt me to transfer and finish school up here!”

“And if you just let me rub your abs ALL the time, I would entertain the thought of spending time with you if you moved up here.”

“Well, I’m glad to see we’re on the same page, just lusting after each other’s bodies.”  He nudged me playfully with his shoulder, then grabbed my hand with one hand, and my tennis bag in the other and escorted me out to my car.  He said, “I've arranged a special surprise for you.”  I raised my eyebrows and looked at him curiously, but he kept a very blank expression and opened my door for me.  He drove to my apartment and told me I needed to get ready as quickly as possible, and to wear something nice, but not too nice.  “Jeans?” I asked.  He shook his head no, and said a dress, but not over the top.  “Oh,” he added, “also wear heels, but comfortable ones.”

I showered as quickly as I could, while he waited in the living room.  I put on a cap sleeve dress with a black lace overlay top and cream pleated skirt and my favorite pair of black Michael Kors pumps.  I figured that I would be okay for whatever he had up his sleeve in 4” heels.  I combed my wet hair straight back and put it into a high bun, and made my eye make-up smoky, but simple.  I had dug out the diamond drop earrings he had gotten me for my last birthday that we were together, the day before, and put those on, too.  I quickly walked out to the living room, and realize he had changed clothes while I showered.  He had on charcoal gray dress pants, black dress shoes, a black dress shirt and a lavender tie.  He looked gorgeous.  I looked down at myself and smiled, realizing that we slightly matched.  We used to accidentally do that in high school all the time, and people would make fun of us.  “Appropriate?” I asked. 

“Stunning.” He responded.  He glanced down at my shoes and said, “If you’re on your feet for a little bit tonight, will they hurt in those?”

“No,” I said firmly.  Honestly, they might, but I wasn’t going to admit that for the sake of the outfit.  Pain is beauty, so they say.  Or something like that.

He walked me down to my car and opened the door for me.  I slid in and watched him walk around the front and get in the other side.  I knew that tonight would be the last time I would see him, in probably a long time.  Since college had started, and we broke up, we had managed not to run into each other because I usually stayed on campus throughout the summer taking a college course, working, and helping run tennis camps, and he had stayed in Arizona this past summer at an internship.  My mother had informed me of this.  She loved talking to me about him, since she had this undying hope that we would one day get married, and her and my dad’s best friends’ son would marry their daughter.  I frowned, imagining having to say goodbye to him tomorrow morning.  As we were driving we talked about his time with his family the day before, and classes for the rest of the week.  He then asked me the question I was hoping he wouldn’t.

“What’s going on with you and Derek?  I mean, I noticed your Facebook status says single…”  I cringed.  He laughed.  I knew he thought the Facebook comment was funny, because we used to always joke about how couples weren’t really couples until they were “Facebook official.”  And then I sighed.  He looked over at me, but then turned his attention back to the road.

“After you and I broke up, I met Derek that spring.  We started dating pretty quickly.  And were off and on, since.  He’s 3 years older than me, and thinks he’s ready to get married.  He dated a girl before me for a really long time and she cheated on him.  He didn’t trust me, because of that.  He accused me of cheating on him all the time, and never believed me when I said I was somewhere.”  I paused, thinking.  “I think that change is hard for me.  And being single, isn’t easy for me.  I mean, I was with you for a long time, you know?  Of course you know.  But, Derek really is a good guy, and he treated me well usually.  I guess, there’s nothing really wrong with him, he just isn’t the right guy for me.  I could be content with him, but I want more than content.  Things would be good, but I want better than good.”

Zach didn’t say anything, which made me nervous.  And when I get nervous, I talk more.  “And he’s from a different background than we are.  Not in a bad way, but like, when I would take him to a charity event with my parents and me, he wouldn’t talk to anyone.  And when he did, it was always sarcastically, like he thought they thought they were better than him.  I knew he always felt uncomfortable.  And afterwards he would make fun of various things.  And not like we used to, like a lady’s ridiculous hair, or if the speaker said words funny, but things like how it disgusted him that people would pay so much just to go to a dinner.  Or once, one of the charities was for overseas orphanages, and someone stopped to talk to us and said, ‘Isn’t this wonderful, how much money we’ve raised?’, and Derek retorted, ‘There aren’t any orphans in America?’  I mean, come on.  I understand what he was saying, but isn’t it enough that they were helping people, in general?  Did it really matter where?”  Embarrassing.  I was rambling.  I paused again, and then continued a little more hesitantly.  “Plus, I don’t think I ever really got over you.”

I then looked out the window and realized we weren’t in the city anymore, and we were on 80, the highway, headed towards Omaha.  “Zach, where are we going?”  I knew he was flying out of Omaha in the morning, but I was expecting to get up early and drive him there. 

“Just be patient, grasshoppa.”  I rolled my eyes and smiled.  Zach still wasn’t saying anything about what I said, so I decided to just sit and wait it out.  We got into Omaha and I was watching the buildings go by.  Finally, Zach parked, and I looked around.  I had no idea where we were.  I didn’t come to Omaha nearly as often as I had gone to Lincoln, growing up, but I still came here enough that I usually recognized where we were.  But I was lost.  He came over and opened my door, and put his arm around my shoulders, trying to keep me close and help shield me from the cold as much as possible.  We walked briskly to a building, and he started guiding me towards a door.  I read the sign and it said, “Omaha Ballroom.”

“Zach!  You remembered!”  I smiled so widely.  I had always talked about wanting to take ballroom dance classes, but had never gotten around it.  I knew basic slow dancing and such, but I had always been so busy with my numerous tennis lessons, that whenever a ballroom class was going on, I always had other commitments.  I saw the sign: Tuesdays are Foxtrot, Waltz, and Tango.  Ohmygoodness! I was so pumped.  I started hopping around and pulling Zach quicker to where we sign up.  He laughed.

“Aleah, the class starts in 2 minutes, we really need to hurry!”  He said this as he started dragging his feet slowly, giving me a hard time, and making me impatient.  "And stop hopping, you're going to break your ankle in those things!"  He smiled at me and then pulled out a $20 and handed it over.  We walked into the room and I looked around in excitement.  “It’s only a 45 minute class, but I knew you would love it, regardless.  We have dinner reservations after.”  I looked at him happily.  Where I was always sporadic and kind of a free spirit and unbridled, he was organized, and meticulous, and had things planned out to the minutest of details.  I knew that when we had stayed in the hotel the other night, without previously planning it, that was a big deal for him.  Not world altering or anything like that, but not his norm.  For me?  He could have asked me to go to Maine for lobster tails that night and I would have said yes.  Not just for the excitement though, but for him, too.  He was always the calm after my storm.

Dance class went by smoothly, with no issues, but way too quickly.  We tangoed back out to the car and were on our way to the restaurant.  When he pulled to drop me off at the door, I was so excited.  I had heard of The Drover, but hadn’t been there, yet.  We had glasses of wine and ordered.  Steak is by far, my favorite food ever, so I was so looking forward to that precious meat entering my body.  And I know that sounds dirty.  But that’s how I feel about my food.  Let me just say, the food was divine.  I can’t even begin to express just how content I was.  Dinner flowed by, and we talked so easily.  It wasn’t lost on me, though, that he had never responded to my comments about Derek, or him.  I really wanted to bring it up, but it just never seemed like the right time.   It is no secret to Zach that I’m confrontational, so I knew he wouldn’t be surprised if I did ask about it, but we were having such a great time, if he didn’t feel the same way, or something worse, I didn’t want to ruin the night.  After dinner, we drove to a hotel close to the airport, but very nice.  He smiled at me sneakily and said, “I got the suite.  You packed a swimsuit, right?”

“Zach!  I didn’t know we were coming to Omaha.  I didn’t pack anything.”  I don’t even have a toothbrush, I thought to myself, miserably. 

“I spoke with Sarah the night of my dad’s party, while you were showering.  She packed a bag for you, and had left it at your apartment.  I grabbed it tonight while you were getting ready, and put it in the trunk.”

I looked at him amazed.  “You really do think of every little detail, don’t you?”  Then it dawned on me, “You had this planned since then?”

He smiled at me and dropped me off at the door.  I waited for him in the lobby, and he walked up carrying my bag, and pulling his suitcase.  We went to the front desk and he asked for the reservation in his name.  We went to the room.  I looked around, impressed.  I’ve done my fair share of traveling with my parents, and we’ve stayed in many 5 star hotels, but even though they have money, they never get the nicest rooms.  Not gross ones, by any means, but never suites.  They were never the type to just give Tom and I whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted.  We took a few vacations that were amazing, and we stayed in beautiful places, but never just a normal night at a great hotel, in a beautiful room.  I saw there was an over-sized Jacuzzi tub in the room.  Zach walked up behind me and wrapped his arms around me.  “Want to get in?”  He started the water and added some bath oils he brought along.  I went and dug through my bag. 

“Hey, I think Sarah forgot my bathing suit.”

“No, she didn’t.”  I turned and looked at him, smirking at me.

“Of course,” I muttered.  I decided to make a show out of it, then.  He had walked over to the table and chairs and was loosening his tie.  I undid my dress and took it off as sexily as I could.  Which, I’m not good at the whole “sexy” thing.  I got stuck, while trying to pull it off over my head and had to ask Zach for help.  He laughed, and once he got me unstuck, he lightly punched him in the arm and walked back over to my bag.  He was unbuttoning his shirt.  I unhooked my bra and took it off, throwing it at him.  He still had his shirt on at this point, but unbuttoned, and stuck his hands in his pockets, tilted his head sideways, and just watched me.  The room was cold, so my nipples were hard.  I had a nude colored, lacy thong on and I turned away from him, to walk towards the tub, and slowly pulled it down, stopping to look back at him, letting it fall all the way down to my heels, which I still had on.  I stepped out of it (which that worked perfectly, thankfully, I couldn’t have imagined tripping over my undies; embarrassing), and cat-walked to the tub, which was still running, but almost full by this time.  I leaned over and put both hands on the edge of the tub.  I had left the door open to the bathroom, and turned to see him still watching me.  I felt the water and it was skin-melting hot.  Just the way I like it.  I daintily took off my shoes, and turned to look at Zach again, but he was out of my sight.  I shrugged and got into the tub and sat in one of the “seats,” sinking up to my chin into the water.  I closed my eyes.  What an amazing evening.  I heard his feet walking towards me, and opened my eyes to see him holding two glasses of champagne.  He handed me one, and then I eyed his beautiful body as he lowered himself into the water.  He sat the opposite way of me, and grabbed one of my feet under water, and started rubbing it.  We sat there in silence, drinking, and just basking in each other’s company.  But then it just slipped out accidentally.  Word vomit.

“Zach, are you single?”