Delayed

Chapter 8

Despite being exhausted Friday night, I slept restlessly and woke up early Saturday morning.  I decided to put the time to good use by packing up Dave's things.  There wasn't much.  It all fit into one of those paper grocery bags with handles.  Some gym shorts and a T-shirt, a Patagonia jacket, some cufflinks he hadn't needed since the last formal event we attended (probably Amy and Jack's wedding), a few coffee mugs, and several of those insulated cold cups.  Dave had this habit of leaving his house with a drink in hand.  Early in our relationship I'd given him a really nice thermal mug with a top. About a month later, he was still using it, but without the top.  Amazingly, he never showed up covered in coffee.  I used to tease that he must keep a secret stash of shirts everywhere.

I put the bag near my purse so I wouldn't forget it.  This just left the ring.  It was sitting on top of my dresser in the little shallow white bowl with a bird painted on it where I kept all the jewelry I wore on a regular basis.  The box was in the narrow top dresser drawer next to the bag I used for jewelry when traveling.  I opened the box and put the ring in.  I closed my eyes and saw Dave ask me to marry him, felt his lips on mine.  I could hear the glasses clinking as we celebrated with friends, feel the warmth of the cabin and the burn in my fingers as they thawed.  It all felt so very far away.  I slid the ring into my purse; putting it in the bag with the other things just didn't seem right.  Then I took a very hot shower and tried to remind myself why I wasn't just dropping these things off at Dave's apartment.  What  additional closure could I possibly need other than last night's evidence that he was moving on and I was moving out?

We both arrived at the restaurant five minutes early.  He was walking down the street one way as I was approaching from the other.  We both had paper grocery bags.  I felt heavy.  He looked like himself, except he wasn't particularly smiling.  Not really frowning either; apparently he was a master of the neutral face, something I could have lived without ever knowing.   

He held the door for me.

"Hey," I greeted.

"Hey," he returned.  Basically the same conversation we had last night.

The restaurant wasn't crowded yet, and we were seated right away.  I ordered soup and the salad bar, and he ordered a hamburger.  And then we sat there.  I suppose I should have had a plan for this.  I had this gut feeling I wanted to return his things in person, but why?  What was it I wanted to say?

"So you wanted to meet today?" he asked, not unkindly.

I nodded.  "I was just sitting here thinking I should have thought of what exactly it was I wanted to say."

He smiled a little and nodded.

I took a deep breath and reached into my purse for the ring.  "It just didn't feel right to just drop this off," I said, handing it to him, my hand shaking just a bit.

Our fingers brushed lightly as he took the box from me.  I wanted to grab his hand and hold on.  I wanted us just to be having a Saturday lunch here, like so many times before.  

"Thank you," he said politely, as he unfolded his jacket in the seat next to him and slid the box into the inner pocket.

His burger came, and I excused myself to make a salad from the famous bathtub salad bar.  I also poured myself a cup of steamy potato soup — my favorite of theirs, and appropriately comforting today.

"Ah, the potato soup.  Perfect day for it," Dave commented when I returned to the table.  I wasn't sure if he was referencing the gray weather or our lunch.

I nodded.  "It's my favorite."

"I know."

And there it was.  He knew.  He knew my favorite soup.  He knew I bit the corner of my lip when I was nervous.  He knew I always prefer red wine to white, even in the summer.  He knew when I'd had too much to drink.  He knew I worked too many hours.  He knew I was competitive at everything, even though I was trying to reform.  He knew I worried about my little sister who had just started college.  He knew I wasn't always crazy about my brother's wife.  He knew that I wanted to have kids, but not until I was 30 or 31.  He knew I still planned to work after I had them.  He knew I like the names Johanna and Terrance.  He knew.