Page 50 of If My Wishes Came True
“How convenient! And judging by the hearts in your eyes, I’m guessing you want this to be more than casual?” Sam says, recalling our conversation at Tati Marie’s birthday party, when I’d told her I wasn’t looking for a serious relationship.
I answer with a vigorous nod.
“Well if it’s going so well, why is he only giving you butterflies, and not orgasms?” Sam asks with a furrowed brow.
“We can always count on Sam to cut to the chase,” Vanessa teases.
Sam crosses her arms. “I don’t get why people are so uptight when it comes to talking about sex. I mean, everyone does it, right? With the right person, it’s a natural, healthy, beautiful thing. Now tell us, Jenna—why aren’t you getting laid?”
“Do we have a waiter yet?” I ask, fanning my face. “I could use a glass of wine for this conversation.”
“We ordered a bottle of red before you got here. Should be coming any minute now,” Vanessa assures me.
“Thank god,” I say on a deep exhale. Then I turn back to Sam. “I’m sure Charlie and I will have sex soon enough…but for now, we’re taking it slow.”
“I’ve never understood that concept,” Sam says with a pensive gaze.
“That’s because you don’t want a long-term relationship,” Vanessa chimes in.
“Yup. I defy gender norms, much to the dismay of my mom,” Sam says, rolling her eyes.
“Is she still calling you an old maid?” Vanessa asks with a sympathetic frown.
Sam chuckles. “That’s my grandma—and the term she likes to throw around is ‘spinster.’ But every time the Lebanese side of my family gets together, my mom ends up crying on her sisters’ shoulders, wondering where she went wrong with me. Who knew that getting a PhD and a faculty position at an elite university could be so disappointing? If she found out I’m having casual sex with a twenty-three-year-old barista with a penis piercing, I bet she’d spontaneously combust.”
“Well, I will always have a soft spot for your mom,” Vanessa says at the tail end of a chuckle. “Remember that time she showed up at your apartment in Manhattan, without telling you she’d booked a flight?”
“You mean ambushed me?” Sam raises an eyebrow.
“And since we were hanging out, she invited me to go with you guys to that Middle Eastern grocery store? She was so sweet. She bought me tabbouleh, and pita bread, and, like, four tubs of hummus. That’s when I fell in love with her,” Vanessa jokes. “Food is the key to my heart.”
Sam laughs. “She’s a lovely woman, don’t get me wrong. And I know she means well. She just wants me to be happy—but she can’t understand that my definition of happiness is different than hers.”
“And includes penis piercings,” I chime in.
“Precisely.”
We’re all laughing when the waiter arrives with our bottle of wine. As he’s pouring, Vanessa’s phone rings. But when she looks at the name on the screen, her smile fades.
“Is everything okay?” I ask.
Vanessa sighs, bringing her forehead to her palm. Her eyes are glistening. “That was Nico. He’s been calling me.”
“Oh no.” I scoot my chair closer to Vanessa, so I can put my arm around her. “Do you know what he wants?”
She shakes her head. “I haven’t picked up, and he isn’t leaving messages. I feel awful not calling him back, but we agreed not to talk for a while, and I think that’s for the best.”
A tear rolls down her cheek.
My heart aches for her. She broke up with Nico to find the love of her life, but she hasn’t gone on a single date, four months later. She must be wracked with guilt. Either that, or she regrets leaving him. Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world for them to talk.
“You’re not over him, V,” Sam says, as though reading my mind. “I think it’s pretty clear. I mean, I tried setting you up with that hot psychology grad student I met on campus, but you wouldn’t even consider it. What if you met up with Nico for coffee, or something? Because if he’s calling you, my guess is, he’s not over you either.”
Vanessa sighs. “Nico doesn’t live in Chicago anymore. When we broke up, I told him I’d move out of our apartment and live with my sister, but he insisted I stay. He said he’d figuresomething out. A few days later, he made arrangements to pick up his things and said he’d decided to go back to New York.”
“So what?” Sam says. “One of you will move again. No big deal. Just call him.”
Vanessa wipes her eyes and forces a smile. “No, I’m just having a rough week, that’s all. Work’s been crazy, and I’m exhausted. I’ll be okay. I know I will. It’s just taking a little longer than I expected.”
