Time passed and when my birthday arrived, my parents forced me out to dinner. It actually turned out to be a surprise birthday dinner at a buffet restaurant out in Somerset. I nearly cried when the girls awaiting my arrival screamed “surprise” as I approached the rear dining area. There were six jumping girls in total. These were my friends from high school and some from church, including Karen. It was great being reminded that I had friends. It brought a smokescreen of normal. Stenton, my best friend, and Angela may never return, but at least some sense of normalcy had, in terms of my friends.
We talked, joked and laughed at the table. My parents sat with us throughout the meal, smiling and participating whenever necessary. I noticed no one brought up Stenton. I didn’t know how to feel about that. On the one hand, I didn’t want the mention of what was painful in my life, but on the other, I didn’t want to erase the memory of the love of my life. I was still dealing with a broken heart. Midway through laughing at one of Karen’s new-mommy jokes, I decided to bury any thoughts of Stenton for the rest of the night. I needed the break in the agony I felt from my failure.
After spending almost three hours at the restaurant, causing a commotion, we decided to call it quits. I didn’t want the temporary relief of elation to end, but I also knew my parents were kind enough to drive me out and I didn’t want to belabor their patience. I kissed the girls goodnight and thanked them for the hundredth time, then gathered my small collection of gift bags they also surprised me with and made my way out to my parents’ car.
On the drive back home, my mom called from the passenger seat, “You must be tired, baby.”
“No,” I sighed. “Not really.”
I was suddenly feeling bored. And lonely. Being with the girls for a few short hours reminded me of what it was like to get out without a heavy laden heart. For a bunch of twenty-one and twenty-two year olds the night was still young. Had my parents not been there, we could have carried on well into the night. I started to wonder what they were getting into now. I knew the girls weren’t en route to their beds as I was. Then my mind idly wandered over to thoughts of Stenton. I wondered what he was doing at the moment. I wasn’t hopeful enough to allow myself to believe he was thinking of me. I thought of that man every day for long spurts of the day. It was hard not to when I had a piece of him growing inside me, reminding me of his mark on my body. I’m sure he didn’t think of me. He had no reminders.
“Well,” my mother hummed. “Get all the rest you can now. You’re gonna miss these days when you have all the freedom in the world to relax.”
“Mmmmhmmm,” I acknowledged her, noncommittally as I scrolled my timeline on Facebook.
Minutes later, we were turning onto my street and my Dad muffled, “Who is that in front of the house?”
I didn’t look up from my phone with that question. I’d assumed it was my parents, just chatting between themselves.
“Is that—?” my mom asked abruptly.
“Yep,” my father murmured moments later as we neared our home.
It wasn’t until we pulled into the driveway that I did peek up. I saw the car first. It was a bright yellow Ferrari. Then I saw the tall, lean figure standing just above it. As I caught on to his lanky frame, his eyes rose from his phone and locked with mine while the car was still in motion. I swear my heart leaped as if it were in fear. I guess I wasn’t used to those jitter-causing sort of feelings for a man. I didn’t know how respond to his magnificent, all-consuming countenance. His stark presence alone spoke volumes of who the man was behind the athlete.
It took a while for me to gain control of my shaky limbs and open the door. My parents were out of the car before I could even pull the handle. As I steadied myself on my feet, I saw Stenton approach and greet my father respectfully with a manly shake. My father was all pinched brows and pouted lips, appearing short and stubby next to Stent. My mother clutched her hands at her pelvis, wearing a wide smile while she waited her turn to be greeted. I noticed his embrace with her was long and was met with him closing his eyes.