The Five Stages of Falling in Love

“You have managed to invade my privacy, insult my taste in wine and call me a recluse in the span of three minutes. I’m honestly impressed.”

 

 

He started opening and closing drawers, looking for the cork screw. I pulled it out of the right drawer and handed it to him.

 

“I don’t think you’re a recluse,” he told me with his concentration fixed on the bottle of wine. “I think you’re busy. And I think I have better taste in wine.”

 

“Both of those things are true,” I finally conceded. I slid onto the bar stool and tried not to be charmed by his smug grin.

 

He handed me a half-filled glass and watched my face as I took my first sip. Then he poured his own.

 

“How was your day?” he asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

 

His words floated over my skin, warm and smooth. I felt my heart swell with friendly affection for this man that barely knew me, but cared enough to ask about my day-my day that was filled with kids and mess and craziness.

 

“Actually, pretty good.” I tucked some hair behind my ear and took another sip of wine. “I enjoyed my trip to the grocery store. Thanks again for calling Emma.”

 

“My pleasure.” His gaze stayed focused on my face. “My day was good too, thanks for asking.”

 

I shook my head at him. “Put any bad guys in jail?”

 

His warm chuckle filled the room with an easy grace. “Not today. Let’s see, I had a mediation, a couple contracts and one last will and testament. I told you, no Law and Order for me. It’s all paperwork.”

 

“You’re really pretty boring, aren’t you?” I dropped my chin into my hand. “No wonder you have such a hard time getting dates.”

 

His eyes narrowed playfully. “I don’t have a hard time getting dates.”

 

“Oh, just keeping them?”

 

“I’m going to take my wine back.”

 

I gulped a big swallow and then grinned at him. “Let’s hear the gory details, Ben. Where’s Mrs. Tyler? Emma said you were perfectly normal. You didn’t make any disgusting mouth noises or try to get out of paying the check. How is it that you’re still single?”

 

He swirled his wine and stared at it contemplatively. “There’s not a big mystery here, if that’s what you’re looking for. I’ve had girlfriends off and on over the years, but no one that I really felt a deep connection to. To be fair though, I have been pretty focused on my career lately and before that, school. It wasn’t until recently that the idea of finding someone to settle down with entered my mind.”

 

“Oh.” Well, that was a normal enough answer. “You’re a workaholic then?” I teased.

 

“My dad’s a workaholic,” Ben explained without any hint of humor. “I’ve spent a large amount of my life chasing his high expectations.”

 

“Oh,” I repeated. This was the real reason he didn’t like working for his dad. “You don’t seem to still struggle with that?”

 

“A year ago, he had a pretty severe heart attack. It really shook him up, helped him realign some of his priorities. It also helped me realize how short life can be. I spent the majority of my life chasing after this impossible goal he had set for me. He was a mostly miserable man, always focused on work and building his practice. And he wanted me to be the same and to dedicate my life to the same pursuits. Then he had the heart attack. I walked into his hospital room, saw him lying on the bed, attached to machines and monitors, barely breathing on his own and I realized I didn’t want that to be me. I saw an empty shell of a man that had nothing to show for his life’s work. At least nothing that mattered. He had a son that couldn’t stand the sight of him and a wife that barely tolerated his existence. No friends, no co-workers that cared enough to show up. He was alone. I decided then that I wouldn’t spend every minute of my life pursuing things that would never care about me too, that would never love me back.”

 

It seemed that every time Ben spoke, I admired him even more. “How is he today?”

 

“He’s better,” Ben answered softly. “His health is better, and I think he realized a lot of the same things I did. We’ve been working on our relationship. It’s not perfect. And it hasn’t been easy for him to change. But, slowly… we’re getting there slowly. It’s not the lost cause I once thought it was.”

 

“And your mom?”

 

“She’s great. You would love her actually. She’s full of life, very funny, pretty much the opposite of my dad. They’re working on things too. I think they’ve lived together being miserable for so long, they’re not sure how to go forward. But they’re trying. That’s part of the reason I can learn to respect him now. I couldn’t stand the way he neglected her… ignored her. He washed-out this effervescent woman until she became a shadow at his side. I just… I couldn’t tolerate that.”

 

“But things are better now?” It seemed he needed to be reminded. I could see how hard it was for him to accept this change and I didn’t blame him. His dad sounded like a piece of work.

 

“Things are better,” he agreed. He took a deep breath and leveled me with another intense gaze. “Alright, your turn.”

 

“My turn for what?”

 

“Serious questioning. You got down to the bottom of me, now I want to hear about you.”

 

I fortified myself with another gulp of wine. He was right. It was only fair, even if I didn’t want to go into details. If I really wanted a friendship with Ben, I owed him this.

 

He started with a relatively easy question though. “I worked on a will today and it got me to thinking, are you okay in this house? Will I be getting a new neighbor any time soon?”

 

“Wow, starting with financials. How classy of you.”

 

He made a growly sound and demanded, “Answer the question, Liz. I like having you as a neighbor. I’m going to be pretty distraught if I come home one day and see a for sale sign in your yard.”

 

My heart jumped in my chest. “I’m sure you’ll survive.”

 

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