Between Friends

Chapter 25

The morning of my birthday, I wake up in a state of panic. How did this happen? How did I suddenly reach the quarter century club? I can’t believe how another week has flown by and all I have done is work, work, work, work, work spreading myself thin from open house to open house and client to client, to distract me from my pathetic life.

I brew myself a fresh pot of coffee and sit at my kitchen table letting the soft morning light beam through my patio doors. I fumble through my piles of client contracts, thinking about Jessica and how I have never celebrated my birthday without her. I stare at my phone and hope the longer I glare at it, the more likely it will ring with her on the other end of the line. When my phone does ring, I snatch it up in my fingers optimistic this blocked call may be Jessica. But it isn’t, it’s Blake Donahue, Ben’s rival realtor. He is calling to let me know his clients have accepted Mrs. van den Berg’s counter offer. I thank Blake for the call, and smile from ear to ear. This is the best birthday present ever! I successfully closed the deal on Mrs. van den Berg’s million-dollar listing! I did it!

I call Mrs. van den Berg to give her the good news, but she doesn’t answer. I leave her a message and make myself some breakfast. I am cramming my mouth full of eggs when I get another call, but this time from Clint. He tells me he has heard the good news, and invites me to his office for some champagne to celebrate. I tell him I will stop by (even though it is a Saturday and my birthday), to which he replies he looks forward to it.

By the time I shower, blow dry my hair, and answer a string of birthday calls; I have talked with my mother, then father, then grandmother, and finally my crazy cousin Tiffany, all wanting to wish me a happy birthday. When I pull my phone away from my ear, it is half past noon.

I scurry around my front hall closet, searching for my black boyfriend blazer, to professionalize my dark wash skinny jeans and plain white tank top. I am ten minutes late for my meeting with Clint, and can already see him foaming at the mouth from my tardiness. Just as I am barreling out the door, my phone vibrate with a text message from Michelle:

Happy Birthday Girlie!

So I promptly text her back:

Thanks!

Michelle responds right away:

Remember we’re going out for a drink tonight you old bag. It isn’t everyday you hit the big 2-5!

I cringe at her old bag reference, then text back:

Sounds good. Call me later.

I roll my eyes thinking the last thing I need tonight, is to go out and potentially see either Ben or Jessica. Not that I think either of them would actually attend, knowing I was going to go out for a couple of drinks on my birthday, but I don’t put it past Michelle at all to pull a fast one.

Suddenly I get another text, but this time from Eric:

Happy Birthday Megs! See you tonight?

That’s weird. I haven’t heard from anyone besides Michelle for the past two weeks, and now I am getting simultaneous text messages from everybody? I know it’s my birthday and the perfect excuse to contact someone, but really?

So I text Eric back:

Thanks Eric. Yeah let’s hook up later.

Then my phone starts ringing, and I see its Clint. Oh shit!

“Hello?” I say, sounding as calm as possible.

“Megan? Where the hell are you? We’ve been waiting for you for the past twenty minutes!” Clint shouts into the phone. I can only imagine how red his face is right now, since it always turns a million different shades of crimson when he is on the verge of losing it.

“I’m on my way Clint. Sorry, I was held up. It’s my birthday and – “

“I don’t want to hear a sob story Megan!” Clint yells into the phone, and then whispers, “Mrs. van den Berg is here. Now hurry up.” and clicks off from our conversation.

When I push through Clint’s office door, the first thing I see is my boss in a three piece suit, and Mrs. van den Berg sitting on the sofa in his office. They both stand up to greet me. I quickly wipe away the stray stands of hair still plastered on my face from the whirling winds outside. Mrs. van den Berg’s silver hair is pulled back neatly in a bun, and her blue eye shadow is very prominent on her eyelids. She is wearing a tweed pantsuit with piles of gold jewelry draping from her neck, wrists and fingers. She pulls me in for a tight hug, giving me a clear view of Clint standing behind her with a furrowed brow and face of contorted disappointment.

“I’m so sorry I am late.” I gently pull away from Mrs. van den Berg, “Today is my birthday. I was stuck on the phone with a bunch of different family members. You know how it is when it comes to family.” I chuckle, watching Mrs. van den Berg smile in agreement.

“Well we’re so glad you could make it dear.” She says and motions me to sit down beside her.

Clint clears his throat and slides down onto a armchair, “Well Megan, I suppose this is a formal congratulations for the impeccable job you did on Mrs. van den Berg’s listing -”

“We already opened the champagne dear” Mrs. van den Berg interrupts, passing me a bubbling glass of pink champagne.

“Thanks” I reply and take a sip, then add, “I tried calling you earlier.”

“I know dear, I got the message. I called Clint right away. I wanted to see you in person.” Mrs. van den Berg says with a smile.

I am so confused. This is not how I normally deal with clients. But then again, this isn’t just an everyday listing or an everyday client. Well for me anyway. Ben on the other hand, has million-dollar listings all the time, but I don’t recall him having lavish follow up meetings with champagne…

“You know, I normally wouldn’t ask someone to pop in the office on a Saturday just for some celebratory champagne.” Clint apprehensively looks from me to Mrs. van den Berg. I choke a bit on my drink and wonder where this is going, “But, because of the great work you did, Mrs. van den Berg asked I set up a meeting with you as soon as possible to discuss your future representation on a few other properties she has and is ready to sell.”

I just sit there frozen, utterly speechless.

“Well dear? What do you say? I just adored how hard working you were, and you were able to negotiate above and beyond what I expected for my property. How about we try to sell a few more? I just don’t have the energy like I used to, to manage all this real estate.” Mrs. van den Berg gives me a wink.

“I would love to” I squeal and thank her a million times over. I am happy to see Clint’s grumpy and wrinkled face change to sheer joy.

“Megan” Mrs. van den Berg says and gently places her hand on mine “When Ben Romano turned down representing my listing, I thought he was crazy. He insisted you were the woman for the job and spoke so highly of you. I am so glad I listened to him dear, you are great at what you do.”

I hesitate, and then say with outright confusion, “Ben turned down your listing and referred me to you?”

“Yes dear” Mrs. van den Berg smiles completely oblivious as to why my fingers are trembling beneath hers.

“Did you know about this Clint?” I ask, feeling a surplus of unidentified emotions welling up inside of me. I blink away the tears forming in the corners of my eyes.

“No I didn’t” Clint says looking more puzzled than I feel.

I am stunned. I cannot believe Ben would pass up on a property like that, and he did it for me. I must have heard Mrs. van den Berg all wrong. I feel like I am in the Twilight Zone. This can’t possibly be what is happening right now. Am I getting Punked? I quickly scan Clint’s office, waiting for Ashton Kutcher to pop out of Clint’s closet, where I know he keeps his jacket, booze and secret stash of condoms. But nothing happens.

Then distracting us all, my cell phone starts ringing. I pull it out of my jacket, even more shocked to see Jessica’s number flash on my screen. I must be dreaming. First Ben passing off a multi-million dollar listing on to me, now this…

“I’m sorry” I say with a tremble in my voice, “I have to take this.”

“No problem dear” Mrs. van den Berg says, “I have to be going anyway. I have left my signed contracts of representation with Clint on the three other properties. We’ll get in touch tomorrow.”

“Thank you Mrs. van den Berg” I say and slide out of Clint’s office and bolt it to my cubicle.

When I answer my cell phone, I cautiously place it up to my ear only to mutter a quiet hello. I hear Jessica respond with a guarded greeting. I am shocked to discover my mouth has turned against me and I am at a loss of words.

“Megan, are you there?” Jessica says with concern.

“Are you going to yell at me?” I ask, feeling my body vibrate with angst.

“No” Jessica says with a laugh, “I got your email.”

“Oh” I say still feeling unsure of how to deal with Jessica. It isn’t like her to forgive, and hand in hand with forgiveness, someone somewhere is giving an apology (which is also highly unlikely from Jessica).

“Look Megan, I know you never meant to hurt me…but you did. I have never ever lied to you about anything.” She sighs into the phone, and I can tell she is still genuinely disappointed.

“I didn’t lie to you on purpose,” I say in defense, “I am really sorry, but I was horrified that morning when I woke up with Ben in my bed. I had no idea what was going on and-“

“I know Megan.” Jessica says and cuts me off, “Don’t think this phone call means I am not still mad at you, your little secret ruined my wedding you know.”

“I know” I sigh, feeling like the world’s worst friend.

“But – I refuse to miss out on my best friends twenty-fifth birthday. What kind of friend would I be if I wasn’t there for her when she became one year closer to a senior citizen?”

“Are you forgiving me?” I say with a strained laugh.

“Don’t be cute!” Jessica shouts with a chuckle, “Now, we are going out tonight, no ifs ands or buts. I already talked to everyone and we have reservations for nine at JBar.”

“Oh” I say with a hint of uncertainty to my voice.

Jessica must read my mind, because she says, “Don’t worry, Ben won’t be there.”

Once I get home, I finally get a call from Emily, and a text from Matthew and Stephanie. They all wish me a happy birthday, and say they are excited to see me tonight. Emily asks me what I am going to wear, which I respond I’m not sure yet. I hang up with her and rifle through my closet in search of a proper twenty-fifth birthday outfit, but nothing sparks my interest. My closet looks like a dull businesswoman fantasy. It’s full of pantsuits, A-line skirts and blouses. Nothing I own seems to have any sex appeal or allure. Both things I decide I need, as a freshly aged and apparently single woman. I rip out about fifteen playfully and flirty dresses and blast a streamline of Rihanna’s greatest hits. I drink red wine and give myself my own personal fashion show.

Unfortunately, I decide nothing is exciting enough, or fits me quite right. I glance at the clock, and notice it is only six o’clock. I still have plenty of time to whip down to Macy’s and find something appropriate to wear for tonight.

I deserve it.

I pound back the last droplets of my wine, and dance over to my door and pull on my blazer. I click off my iPod, ending the dance party for one, and hear complete silence. As I slide on my shoes, a knock on my door startles me to the point of a high-pitched shriek. Who on earth could that be? The only two people have the access code to get into my building without me buzzing them up are my mother and Jessica.

I pull open the door, and my chest practically seizes when I see him.