Just as she thought: He never listened to her. “I've told you a few times, because my South African dad always told me the tale about how the little elephant got a long trunk. I have been fascinated by them ever since.” She could see he wasn't listening again. He was looking for the parking ticket. He tutted and put her bag down as he searched every pocket.
“You haven't bothered to clean out the car then?” she said moments later as she squeezed her long legs between empty Coke cans and pizza boxes. Surely if you were going to collect the woman you loved from the airport after she'd been away for a year, you would make a bit of an effort.
The Fiat screeched to life, and Nathan reversed out of the parking lot, almost hitting the car next to them. “So how was it really? I mean you told me you enjoyed it, but can someone really enjoy a year in Moscow? It's full of commies for a start.”
Nicki looked at all the dead flies on the windshield and considered her answer. “I did enjoy it. And it's not full of commies. It was the chance of a lifetime. A lot of people applied for that exchange place to Moscow State University. I was the lucky one who got it, so I decided to make the best of it.”
She pulled down the sun visor and looked at herself in the vanity mirror. Nathan had been right. Her makeup had withstood the grueling flight. Her lips were still bright red, and her eyes bore no smudges. She'd gotten a new hairdo in Moscow; she was sure Nathan hadn't noticed. She liked it. Natasha, the lovely girl who'd cut it, was fascinated by black people's hair. She'd never had a black woman in her chair before. She’d said it had looked wiry, but she’d quickly changed her mind when she touched it. Now Nicki wore it long and thrown to one side in sweeping curls.
“Jesus, asshole,” Nathan shouted as he almost ran into a taxi that had stopped to turn left.
“Nathe,” Nicki murmured, knowing she was going to hate herself, “I want to talk to you.” She looked across at him. He was tall and dark and had a strong-looking face, the kind women trusted. He would soon find some else, someone more suitable. Someone who didn't mind dirty cars and a boyfriend who didn’t listen. “Nathe, thanks for giving me a lift home. It's really nice of you.”
“Nice? Did you think after a year that I wouldn't come and collect my girlfriend from the airport?”
They'd been together for four years, ever since Nicki had started her courses in journalism at NYU. It had been the first time she'd been away from her parents, and she'd been nervous. She’d been brought up in a small town in Alabama, and at the time New York had seemed so intimidating. Now she had to admit that when she'd met Nathan, she had clung to him for her own sake. Not because she loved him, but because he was a New Yorker and made her feel at ease with the Big Apple. Now she was going to have to pay for stringing him along all this time. Why had she just let it drift?
“Well, it is nice of you.” Come on, girl, out with it, she told herself, trying to find the right words. “Nathe, I don't want to be with you anymore. I want to be your friend, but I don't want a sexual relationship with you anymore.”
“What?” he said as he swerved around another taxi.
“You never listen to a word I say,” she shouted in frustration.
“Sorry. What were you saying?”
She took a deep breath and began again. “Nathe, you're sweet, but I want to finish our relationship.”
“What?” She was fearful he hadn't heard her again, but he had. “What the hell are you talking about, finish?”
“I want to be friends with you, but not your girlfriend anymore. I thought a lot about it while I was in Moscow, and we're not compatible. You could find someone much better suited to you. You're only twenty-four, and you've got a great job at the Times. You're bound to find Mrs. Right.”
“Nicki,” he exclaimed. She closed her eyes, sure he was going to run into the car in front of them. “No, Nicki, you've got it wrong. I don't want anybody else. I want you. Jesus, I love you.”
It was the first time he'd said that, and it made it all the more difficult. “You think you love me, Nathe, but really you only have time for one person: yourself.”
“Will you stop talking BS? You're my girl, and that's it.” He looked at her. She looked hotter than ever with her new hair. She had also lost weight, not that she’d needed to. Now she was slender, and it made her look taller than the five eight she always claimed she was. All he wanted to do was get her back to her apartment and go to bed with her. He longed to feel her long legs around him and her soft lips on his. He'd often masturbated to a picture of her when she was away. Not a picture of her in some pornographic pose, but a simple picture of her face, smiling into the camera he'd taken with them on a trip to the beach.
“No, Nathe. I've made up my mind. Please respect that.”