“Well, people go to other countries for cheap plastic surgery all the time. Maybe I could do that.” I shake my head at her absurdity.
“I have another reason for bringing you lunch, other than to see you.” I figured. I cut my sandwich in half with the plastic knife and pick up a piece.
“I’m guessing this has to do with your parents and a certain dinner I agreed to go to,” I say before taking a bite.
“Yeah. Listen, you really don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. I can tell them you have the mumps or something.” I nearly snort into my sandwich.
“No, it’s fine,” I say after I’ve swallowed and taken a sip of Coke.
“I just didn’t want you to feel pressured if you really don’t want to go. I know family stuff is touchy for you.” Shit. I really don’t like her knowing my weaknesses. Especially that.
“Really, Saige. It’s fine. Just tell me where and when and what to wear and I’ll be at your place to pick you up.” She gives me a sly smile.
“Or maybe we could hang out at your place and I can get ready there and then we can come back to your place and I can show you how much it means to me that you’re willing to sit through a potentially awkward dinner with my parents.” I am completely on board with this plan.
“I think that can be arranged,” I say, rubbing my chin as if I’m thinking about it. I’ve started shaving again, but I know she misses the stubble.
“You’re the best,” she says, grinning at me.
The dominoes are set and it’s time to make them start falling.
Twenty-One
Saturday afternoon, I pick Saige up at her place. I can’t visit Lizzy this week, but I called her and let her know. She sounded sad, but she said it was fine. That she loved me anyway. Thank God someone did.
“Are you moving in with me?” I joke as Saige skips down the stairs with a garment bag over her arm and a huge bag full of who knows what.
“Hey, it takes a lot to get me ready to see my folks. My mother notices everything and if my makeup isn’t up to her standards, I’m going to get a lecture. My goal is to get out of there with only one, which is pushing it.”
She throws the stuff in the backseat and gets in the front, giving me a quick kiss.
“Your parents don’t approve of you?” I ask. I’m interested to hear her side of that story.
She snorts a little as I pull out onto the street.
“You could say that. I’m not exactly what they had in mind when they decided to have children. And then they only had me, so it’s not like they got one to be their golden child and another to screw things up.” I knew that as well.
“Why didn’t they have more?” Why am I asking this? It doesn’t matter. But I want to know more about her anyway. It’s like a compulsion I can’t stop.
“They tried. It didn’t work out.” She turns and looks out the window and I can tell there’s more to that story, but if she can respect my boundaries and not talk about my family, I can respect hers.
“Hmm,” I say, to let her know I’m listening. She turns on the radio and we pretend to fight over which station to choose. We’re still undecided when I pull up in front of the apartment and park.
“Wow. Swanky,” she says, looking out the window and up at the glossy building. It’s everything new and modern and chrome and steel and glass. Cold and unemotional. I got to pick this one and Cash absolutely hates it. He wanted a brownstone in a different part of the city, but we all vetoed that choice.
“Thanks. It works for what I need it for.” I get out and help her with her stuff. The bag she’s brought is much heavier than I thought it would be.
“Do you have bricks in here?” I joke as we walk up the steps and I swipe a card to get into the building. In addition to this place being cold and unemotional, it’s also high tech, which is another reason we picked it. You need a key card to get in and you need a key card to unlock your door and if you don’t have that, then a fingerprint.
“Brrr,” she says as the cold air blasts us. It’s always cold in here, which just adds to the whole persona of the building.
We head for the elevator and I take her up to the fourteenth floor.
“This isn’t what I expected,” she says, looking around as we step out of the elevator.
“What did you expect?” I say.
She shrugs.
“I don’t know. Something warmer. More homey. Maybe with a ratty couch you had from college or something. More of a bachelor pad than… this.” She motions down the black marbled hallway.
“Come on,” I say and we go to “my” door. I swipe my card and the door unlocks. I came here yesterday to make sure it was clean up to my standards and to put some food in the fridge and the pantry.
“Wow,” Saige says, coming in after me. “Yeah, this is definitely not what I thought of.” The best word to describe the place is sparse. Barely any furniture and what there is, is black and grey. No personal pictures and only a few photographs on the wall. I made sure to put up some Ansel Adams so there is a little bit of Sylas. The kitchen is all stainless steel and granite and the bedroom is also done in silver and black.
Saige walks across the living room to look out the enormous window that looks out over the city.
“Great view, though,” she says, speaking to me over her shoulder.
“That’s what sold me on the place. The view.” I’m not exactly talking about what’s outside the windows. She’s casual again, with just a pair of jeans, a loose top and her hair twisted into a knot on the very top of her head. Her face is free of makeup for now and her eyes are so unbelievably green they don’t look real.
“So is there anything I should know about?”
“Huh?” She’s been busy staring at the view and I’ve been busy staring at her.
“About going to your parents’ house. Is there anything I should know? I don’t want to commit a faux pas if I can help it, and I definitely don’t want to get lectured.”
She laughs and comes back over to me.
“You’ll be fine. Just be yourself. I’ve never seen you ruffled under any circumstances. My mother is usually so focused on telling me how much I’m disappointing her that she probably won’t even notice you. They were on their very best public behavior at the benefit.” I had the feeling. People are so much different when they are in their own homes and there isn’t an audience.
“Well, just let me know if I’m doing something wrong.”
“Will do,” she says, picking up her bags. “Bathroom?”
I point in the right direction and she marches off. I go to the bedroom and pull out my suit for the evening, along with my shirt, tie and undergarments. There’s a knock at the door as I’m pulling my shirt over my head. I’d shaved and showered before picking Saige up, so all I need to do is get dressed basically.
“Yeah?” Saige pokes her head in.
“What are you wearing?” I motion to the bed. She comes in and inspects the outfit.
“Okay. I just didn’t want to clash with you. I brought three dresses.”
“No wonder your bag is so heavy,” I say, shaking my head at her.
“Hey, it’s much more work being a girl. You have no idea.” My mother used to take such care with her makeup. It was mesmerizing to watch her slowly slick on her lipstick, making sure it was absolutely perfect.
“Can I see the choices? Since you’re allowed to see my outfit,” I say and she goes to get the candidates. She moves my suit over and sets each dress out beside it, like they’re a couple without people inside them.
The choices are a nude dress, a black one and a grey one with black panels on the sides.
“I usually wear black because it pisses my mom off. If she had it her way, I’d be dressed in any color but that.”
“Well, how about a compromise? The grey has black in it.” She nods.