Page 2 of Suddenly Dating
Melissa slapped his hand from her.
“You don’t even like this apartment. We’re downtown, and you want uptown. When I get a couple of contracts under my belt, we’ll get a bigger, better apartment on the upper west side, just like you want.”
“Nope. Not me,” she said, swaying again. “Because I’m done, Harry!”
She lurched away from him. She almost made it to the bedroom door before she rolled off a heel and onto her ankle, and crashed into the door frame. With a wail that should have brought a SWAT team, she managed to catapult herself through the door and slam it shut.
Harry took his hair out of its queue and dragged his fingers through it. She was just drunk. She didn’t mean what she’d said—she wasn’t really done with him. They’d been together eighteen months now, they were committed. And Harry loved Melissa.
He wished he could make her understand what it was like to have a dream of something, how it drove you, ate at you, made you get up every morning and do something about it. But she didn’t get it. She’d fallen into public relations work by chance, and she’d be happy to give it up if something better came along.
In contrast, Harry had always known he wanted to be an engineer. He’d been interested in building things since he was a boy. After graduating with his pricey engineering degree, he’d landed a job at the prestigious Michaelson’s, a huge firm out of Pittsburgh with offices in New York and Chicago. For several years he’d worked designing bridges for big road projects. He loved the design work, but Harry learned he was not cut out for office work. He wanted to build the bridges he designed. He wanted to get his hands dirty and pour the concrete himself.
A year ago, he’d saved enough money and made enough contacts to go out on his own. At first, he got lucky. He won two subcontracting bids for small bridges with a larger road construction firm. Those two contracts had been a blast. He was like a kid with a big erector set; he loved that rough-and-tumble world of big construction. He loved seeing supports poured and beams seated and the bridge going up, piece by piece.
The best part about it was that Harry had done precisely what he’d set out to do when he told his parents he was going to Cornell for an engineering degree. “I want to build bridges and roads,” he’d said. His mother had been horrified. “You’re too smart and too talented to waste time with labor,” she’d said. But Harry was certain of what he’d wanted, and he’d gone after it.
After two successful jobs, Harry’s third bid had nearly ended him with unforeseen cost overruns before he could even get started. Both his mother and Melissa had immediately jumped on board theI-told-you-sotrain. “Isn’t it time to give up this foolish idea, Harry?” they’d said. “Hasn’t this taught you anything, Harry?” they’d asked.
The only thing it taught him was to be careful of the teams he hired and to build in a better contingency. His family and his girlfriend could say whatever they liked, but Harry was single-minded about it. He knew what he wanted and he was willing to work his ass off to get it.
He just had to figure out how to get Melissa to see what he saw in their future and to believe in it, too.
Harry turned back to the bistro table. He picked up the plates, walked into the kitchen, and started cleaning up.
Melissa wasn’t better in the morning.
Harry had slept badly on the couch and was up at dawn combing through a stack of invoices. The work required to get his firm off the ground was equally grueling on the job site and in paperwork. Someday, he’d have people to do this crap for him. At least that’s what he kept telling himself.
He was eating his second bowl of cereal when the door of the bedroom creaked open. Melissa emerged with a very large suitcase. She was wearing yoga pants, running shoes, and a soft jacket. Her hair was in a tight ponytail at the top of her head, and dark circles shadowed her eyes.
Harry slowly lowered his spoon back into his bowl and looked at the suitcase. “What’s going on?”
“God, don’t shout,” she said, pressing her hand to her forehead, and jerked her enormous suitcase through the door.
Harry felt a tic of panic in his chest and slowly stood, staring in disbelief at her suitcase. “Lissa? What’s going on?”
She sighed. She stopped trying to move the suitcase, and covered her face with her hands for a moment. And when she dropped them, he could see tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry, Harry. I really am,” she said softly.
He strode across the room, but she shook her head and folded her arms across herself. “I don’t... this is not what I want. You know it’s not. I thought when we moved in with each other that we were building toward a future. That we’d get married and have a family—”
“We were. Weare.”
“You are. But I feel completely left out. I hardly see you. You’re working so much that we never see our friends any more. And you’re losing money and selling the apartment. It just feels like things changed and I didn’t get a vote.”
“That’s not true, Lissa. I was up front with you about what my goals were when we first met. I told you I wasn’t fulfilled at my old job. I told you I wasn’t a desk guy and I was starting my own company.”
“I didn’t know that meant that I’d never see you or that we’d be struggling financially. I know what you’re going to say—to give it time. Well, I’ve given it a year, Harry, and it feels like you’re clinging to this idea, and you don’t see that it’s not working, and in the meantime, I’m supposed to wait it out.”
“Be patient, Lissa. Have a little faith. This is just a rough patch. Can’t you hold out a little longer? I’m this close,” he said, holding up his thumb and forefinger an inch apart.
She sighed sadly. “So close that you are selling the apartment. And then what? What will you sell after that?”
When he thought of the future, he didn’t think of selling something else. He thought of the bigger, better apartment he would buy for her. Harry was confident that by investing a little he was going to get the break he needed. “Look,” he said, moving cautiously forward. “I’ve had some great contracts with bigger firms. But there’s no gain without some risk, baby. Iwillget bigger jobs. But in order to do that, I have to have equipment and manpower.”
“You keep talking about this crane,” she said. “Where is it even going to go? Where are we going to live?”
He took another step forward. “What about your place?” he suggested.
