Chapter 65 (1/16/17)

Eleanor didn't even have the good sense to disentangle herself from Ryan when I sat back down, and Ryan barely even seemed to notice me approach.  When I sat down clumsily, silently cursing the wine, he finally seemed to notice and leaned close to me and whispered, “You good?”

“Yes,” I murmured back, even though “good” was not the word I’d choose to describe myself at this moment.  One of the waitstaff came by with salads, and I asked for another glass of wine.  Ryan cocked an eyebrow at me and I met his eyes with an even stare.  Something uncertain flickered briefly across his face before he smiled and turned his attention to the salad in front of him.  Eleanor finally had to disengage herself from him so they both could eat.  

The dinner courses came out slowly, allowing me time to consume two more glasses of wine.  The food helped a little, but didn’t change the fact that I had put away more than an entire bottle of wine in less than three hours.  Eleanor kept things interesting by cheerfully asking me pointed questions about myself, which I forced myself to answer politely and enthusiastically, even when they made me feel stupid.  For example, "So Jenna, have you ever been married?" I could tell from Ryan’s constant concerned glances that he knew I wasn't happy, though he didn't even try to stop Eleanor.

The bride and groom had cut the cake before dinner (I hadn’t even noticed, I was too busy being irritated by Eleanor’s mere existence) and it was served immediately following dinner.  I managed to make the smart choice and pass on another glass of wine for now in favor of some coffee. 

After cake, Eleanor bounced off to say hello to someone else, but not before telling Ryan (with a wink) to save a dance for her.  Ryan had fended the statement off but she had smiled a smile that clearly stated she was used to getting what she wanted, then flitted away.  I turned to talk to Marissa (I had gotten a glance at her place card), not trusting myself to talk to Ryan without drunkenly saying something stupid.  After a minute, he touched my shoulder.  “Dance with me?” he asked, as the dance floor slowly started to fill up.

“Sure,” I replied, because it was better than sitting here and stewing.

I wobbled a little getting up, drawing another concerned glance from Ryan, which just served to irritate me further.  On the dance floor, he wrapped his arms firmly around me.  “What’s up?” he asked. 

“Nothing’s up,” I lied (poorly).  “I’m having a great time.”

“Look, I know Eleanor is a little…enthusiastic, but—“

“Enthusiastic,” I snorted.  I turned my head away from him, staring over his shoulder instead.

“Jenna,” Ryan said. 

“Ryan,” I responded petulantly.

“Wow, you’re really angry,” he said, sounding surprised.  “Will you at least tell me why?”

“You introduced me as your date—“ I spit the word out like it was burning my mouth, but then took a deep breath so I could get the rest of the words out more calmly. “So then she thought you were up for grabs.  She won’t keep her hands off you, and she's going out of her way to make me look like an idiot.  And you’re doing nothing to stop it.  And you didn’t even warn me about her.  You should have warned me that she'd be here.”

“I apologized for introducing you as my date,” he reminded me, sounding irritated.  “I didn’t do it on purpose, I promise.  I didn’t know she was coming, though I should have assumed and warned you.  I’m sorry for that.  And she doesn’t mean anything by it.  She’s just really friendly.  And I know she’s pretty intense and a lot to handle, but I think if you give her a chance—“

“You’ve always been soooo smart, Ryan,” I said, mocking Eleanor, my voice dripping with saccharine sarcasm.

“She’s been nothing but nice to you,” Ryan pointed out, quietly but angrily.  “I think you’re being a little ridiculous.”

“I don’t want to be ridiculous.  I want to be your girlfriend.”  The words tumbled out before I could stop them.  When Ryan heard “girlfriend” his feet stopped moving for a second.  Then he continued on, dancing as if we weren’t having a ridiculous argument on this stupid dance floor.

“Jenna,” he said again, but this time he sounded disappointed.

Now I stopped dancing.  I looked up at him, and suddenly felt the urge to cry.  “You don’t want that,” I said, reading the sad look on his face.  “You said you did, but you didn’t.  I took too long to get here, and now you don't want to be my boyfriend.”

“Jenna, shhh, let’s go outside,” he said.  No one had noticed us yet, but since we were on the dance floor not dancing, it was only a matter of time. 

“I don't want to go outside," I said, turning my eyes towards the floor.  My face was burning and I felt like a huge idiot--for a variety of reasons.  "I...don't want to talk to you right now."

I made it off the dance floor, past our table, and was just yards away from the bar when Ryan caught up to me.  “Please, Jenna, not here.  These are all my friends from my hometown.  My aunt and uncle are here, for godsakes.”

“So sorry to embarrass you,” I snapped, my eyes welling with tears.  “Though you didn't seem to care about embarrassing me.  You know what, I don’t want a drink after all.  I want to go home.  Or at least back to the hotel.”

“Okay,” Ryan said, looking relieved.  “Let’s go back to the hotel.”  I turned and went back to the table.  I grabbed my clutch from where I had stashed it under my chair and snatched Ryan’s jacket off the chair and strode back to him. 

“Here.”  I held his jacket out to him without even slowing down.  I didn’t care if he came or not.  Ryan grabbed it and shoved his arms through the sleeves as he hurried after me.   Three steps from the door, I heard Eleanor’s voice calling Ryan’s name. 

“You’re leaving already?” she asked, and for the first time all day she didn’t sound like a cheerleader on speed.

“Yeah, Jenna's not feeling well,” he replied. 
That's not inaccurate, I thought bitterly.  

“Oh, well that’s too bad,” she said.  “Look, where are you staying?  We were talking about an after party, and I'd love to see you out later.”

That was all I needed to hear.  I started walking again, slamming through the handicapped door next to the revolving door and stumbling out onto the sidewalk. 

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Chapter 64 (1/15/17)

The ceremony was long, with a full mass.  Ryan fidgeted even more than I did.  Most people found wedding ceremonies beautiful, and they were…if you knew the couple.  If you don’t, well, it’s just kind of boring.  But we made it through.  The reception was downtown, so after the ceremony we took the car back to our hotel, which was within walking distance of the reception venue. 

“Excellent planning, sir,” I said to Ryan as we rode the elevator up to our room.  I had decided to change into flats before the reception, realizing that after an evening of dancing the four-block walk back to the hotel would be torturous in heels.  “Do these look okay with my dress?” I asked, frowning at my reflection in the full-length mirror.

“You look incredible,” Ryan replied, becoming visible in the mirror as he stepped up behind me.  “So incredible that I was having a lot of impure thoughts in that church.”  He gently brushed my curls over one shoulder, trailing his fingers across the back of my neck, over my shoulder, and down my arm.  He made eye contact with me in the mirror as he dropped his mouth to my shoulder, softly kissing his way across it and up my neck.  “I think we’d better do something about that so I can behave myself at the reception.”

“We’ll be late for the cocktail hour,” I teased him.  But to be honest, after the awkward encounter with Eleanor before the ceremony, I found his desire for me a relief. 

“Fuck the cocktail hour,” he said, sliding one hand along the outside of my thigh, slipping it easily beneath my dress.  He pushed the skirt up until his fingers brushed the lacy edge of my thong.  “Fuck the reception too, while we’re at it.”

“The reception is the only reason to go to a wedding in the first place,” I pointed out.  I gasped as his fingers slipped inside my thong and brushed against me.  “On second thought, we’ll see what happens.”

Ryan chuckled and watched me in the mirror as he stroked me slowly and gently.  I moved my hips against his hand, trying to get him moving faster.  “You’re so sexy when you’re turned on,” he growled, his lips finding my neck again.  I moaned as he pushed two fingers inside me, working them until my legs got shaky. 

“No,” I groaned when he withdrew his fingers.

“Just wait,” he said, working my underwear down over my hips.  He pushed them down until they slid to the floor, and then I heard his zipper.  “Bend,” he said, gently pressing his hand between my shoulder blades.  I bent forward slightly, bracing myself against the mirror.  I gasped and pushed back against him as he entered me, pushing slowly into me from behind.  Ryan wrapped both arms around me, slipping one past the low-cut neckline of my dress and beneath my bra to cup my breast, rolling the nipple between his thumb and finger.  The other snaked around my hips, pressing his fingers against me as he thrust into me, slowly at first, but quickly picking up speed. 

After my first orgasm, Ryan had to use one arm to keep me on my feet, slamming hard into me over and over while I whimpered and moaned.  It didn’t take long for me to come again, and Ryan followed shortly after.  We both sunk to the floor in a heap, breathing hard.  I slumped against his chest, turning my head so my hair rested against his shoulder rather than my face.  I didn’t want to get makeup on his jacket.  “Fuck the cocktail hour,” I mumbled.  Ryan laughed.

We sat tangled together for just a couple minutes before I groaned and shifted away.  “We should go,” I said, shifting until my knees were under me and making my way to my feet.

I turned to offer a hand to Ryan and he raised an eyebrow while he took it and stood.  “You should get yourself together before we go,” he said, trying not to laugh.  I turned and looked in the mirror and immediately burst into laughter.  My hair was a mess, my eye makeup was slightly smeared, my dress was hitched up over one hip, and my thong was still around one ankle.

“Your shirt is wrinkled,” I retorted, tugging my underwear up and my dress down. “And your tie is crooked.”

“Easily fixed,” he said.  I had to tear my eyes away from him as he loosened his tie and then unbuttoned his shirt.  He tossed it on the bed and took the ironing board and iron out of the small closet.

“You iron?” I asked, carefully detangling my hair with my fingers and smoothing the curls. 

He chuckled.  “I do when I have to.  And unfortunately, I have to fairly often.” 

I fixed my makeup while he was ironing his shirt.  By the time I was slipping my flats back on, Ryan was tightening his tie.  I carefully straightened the slightly off-kilter knot and then smoothed my hands down his chest.  “Handsome again,” I said, smirking.

“Again?  You didn’t have any complaints 10 minutes ago.”

“Fair point,” I said, grinning.  I stood on my tiptoes and he leaned down and kissed me.  “You’re always handsome.”

“Aw, shucks,” he said, winking at me.  He pressed his lips to my forehead and said, “I’d better be, to be seen in public with a woman as beautiful as you are.”

We barely made it back out of the hotel room without a round two.  I was in much better spirits than I’d been an hour ago as we walked the four blocks to the reception venue hand in hand.  “Hey,” Ryan said before we walked inside. 

“Yeah?”
            “Thanks for coming with me.”

“Of course,” I said, grinning at him.  He kissed me once more, soft and quick.   Then, with his arm around my shoulders, we walked inside.

“Hi, I’m Jenna,” I said to the fifteenth new person that I had been introduced to since we walked in.  Ryan had been very popular in his hometown.  “It’s so nice to meet you.”

We had managed to catch the end of cocktail hour.  Appetizers were gone, unfortunately, but the glass of Pinot Grigio in my hand was fabulous.  Ryan was cheerfully greeting and introducing me to a variety of well-dressed men and women.  “You need another,” he said, looking at my nearly empty glass.  “Let me get it.”

“I’ll go too,” I said quickly.  I was overwhelmed by the sheer number of people that I didn’t know and I wasn’t ready to make small talk by myself.

“After you, then,” he said, stepping to the side and holding one hand out towards the bar.  He winked at me as I slipped past him, and followed closely with one hand on my lower back. 

“I’m already happy I changed into flats,” I said as we stood in line at the bar.  We hadn’t sat since we left the hotel. 

Ryan grinned and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at me.  “I’m glad too, otherwise we wouldn’t have had a reason to go up to the room.”

I laughed and stepped up to the bar as the person in front of us vacated a spot.  We ordered a drink and Ryan looped his arm around my waist and pulled me tightly against him, pressing his lips to the top of my head.  “Did I tell you that you look absolutely beautiful?” he asked softly.

“Only about 15 times,” I replied.

“Not enough, I need to tell you more,” he replied.  “I love that dress on you.”  He dropped his mouth towards my ear and whispered, “Especially with it pushed up past your hips.”

“Perv,” I said.  I blushed as the bartender returned with my wine and Ryan’s bourbon. 

“Ryan!  Jenna!  I’ve been looking all over for you two!”  I almost cringed at Eleanor’s voice behind us. 

“We just got here about 45 minutes ago,” Ryan said, turning and smiling at her. 

“Have you guys found your table yet?” Eleanor chirped, laying her hand on Ryan’s arm.  I stared at it.  She kept it there.

Ryan looked at me.  “We did, but what was the number?”

“Table 8,” I supplied, dragging my gaze from where Eleanor’s hand was still seemingly attached to Ryan’s arm.

Eleanor clapped and exclaimed, “That’s my table!” 

“Of course it is,” I muttered.  Eleanor looked at me, puzzled.  Ryan nudged my waist gently.  “I just mean that I thought I saw your name card there when we found it earlier.  That’s great,” I said, louder.  I forced a cheerful smile.

“Come on, they’re going to do the toasts and first dance soon.”  Eleanor slid her hand down Ryan’s arm to grab his free hand and pulled him towards the table.  I frowned unhappily at her back, wishing she’d get her hands off him.

“Well, come on,” Ryan said to me.  “They’re going to do the first dance soon.”  The sparkle in his eye told me he thought Eleanor was ridiculous, but it was little consolation.

The first dance happened about 10 minutes later.  I’d never been to a wedding where the first dance happened before dinner, but Eleanor informed us of all the good reasons to do it that way.  “You know, then you can send the photographer home sooner, and it’s cheaper.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t have thought of that,” Ryan said. 

“Me neither,” said a pretty blonde on the other side of Eleanor.  Her name was either Melissa or Marissa, it had been hard to tell in the noisy room.  I turned to chat with her a little so I didn't have to watch Eleanor eye-fucking Ryan any more.

“I’m going to find the restroom,” Ryan said in my ear after a few minutes.  “You’ll be okay for a sec?”

“Yes, of course,” I replied, nodding.  Ryan kissed my cheek and got up.  I watched him weave through the mass of people and disappear.

“Soooo,” Eleanor said, startling me.  I turned and found her in Ryan’s seat, her face alight as she looked at me.  “Ryan said you were his ‘date’ but you two certainly look a little closer than just dates.”

“Yeah, um, we’re seeing each other,” I said. 

“Oh, that’s great!” she said.  Her voice was enthusiastic but her expression was flat.  “For how long?”

I considered this.  I had no idea.  Should I count the months we had just been sleeping together?  Only from when we finally acknowledged that it was more than that?  “A few months or so,” I replied finally. 

She looked perplexed by the amount of time it had taken me to answer and my completely non-specific reply.  “So you’re not like…his girlfriend?” she asked, the confusion evident on her face.

I shifted uncomfortably.  “I mean, we’re not seeing other people, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Oh,” she said.  That had clearly not been what she was asking.  Or at least not what she wanted to hear.  “Well, great! Ryan is great.”

“He really is,” I said.  Finally, something we could agree on. 

“I really am what?” Ryan asked, appearing behind me and laying a hand on my shoulder.

“A man of impeccable timing,” I replied, looking up at him and smiling.  “You brought me another glass of wine!”  Eleanor moved reluctantly back to her seat and Ryan sat down, sliding a full glass of wine to me. 

“Yours was almost empty and I walked right past the bar.  It would have been remiss of me to not get you another.”

“Remiss!” Eleanor exclaimed, giggling and putting her hand on his arm again.  “You were always so smart.”

“Only as smart as absolutely necessary,” he said, taking a long drink of his bourbon and winking at her.  It wasn't quite so attractive when it was directed at other people.  “So, Nor, no man with you tonight?  I’m surprised.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she gasped with mock indignation.  She swatted his arm.  “My boyfriend is unfortunately dealing with an unexpected family matter this weekend.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Ryan said sincerely.  “I hope everything is okay.”

“Nothing bad,” she assured us, “or I wouldn’t be here, of course.  I’d be with him.”

I bet you would, I thought to myself.  I caught myself just before I rolled my eyes.

“Tell us about him,” I urged her, trying to distract her from flirting with Ryan.

“Oh, you know,” she replied dismissively.  “We live in Minneapolis.  He went to med school there; he’s a doctor.  But I want to hear more about what you’re doing now, Ry!”  She once again laid her hand on Ryan's arm, squeezing and smiling expectantly at him.  

I almost choked on my wine.  Ryan looked at me with concern as I sputtered and coughed into my napkin.  “Are you alright?” he asked me.

“Fine,” I said, when I had collected myself.  The look on his face said that he knew exactly why I had nearly choked. 

“Are you sure?  We could go out and get some air.”

“She just swallowed wrong Ryan, she said she’s fine,” Eleanor said cheerfully, gently shaking Ryan's arm to get his attention back.  “Anyway, he’s a doctor and he works a lot, but he’ll get some better hours soon, I hope.  So tell me what you’re doing for work.”

I restrained myself from asking his name, because I didn’t actually want to know if he’d gone to med school with Kevin, and if I maybe even knew him.  Instead I smiled, then excused myself to go to the bathroom.

Three glasses of wine on an empty stomach were not being kind to me, and I was again thankful I had changed my shoes.  I wondered when dinner was being served as I walked back to the table, but the thought flew from my brain when I got close enough to see Eleanor with her arm wrapped around Ryan’s arm, leaning into him and laughing.  Ryan wasn’t quite reciprocating her intimate body language but he certainly didn’t look uncomfortable either.  I took a deep breath and strode back to the table, forcing all traces of wobble out of my tipsy gait.

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Chapter 63 (1/12/17)

Not sure what's gotten into me!  Next post will be up Sunday evening :)

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I left early enough on Sunday to get home in time to grab dinner with Ryan before he got on a red eye flight to London for more than two weeks.  “So,” he said casually while we shared an appetizer, “I have this wedding to go to the weekend after I get back.”

“Oh?” I responded carefully, not sure where he was going to take this.

“Yeah.  It’s in Chicago.  I haven’t RSVPed yet because I wasn’t sure if I was going to be around, but I will be.  And I knew that before, but I still haven’t RSVPed because I wasn’t sure how many to put down.”

            I cocked an eyebrow at him.  “Are you asking me if I’d like to go with you?”

“Well, I don’t know.  That depends on if you’d like to go or if it would freak you out.  Would it freak you out?”

I laughed.  “I would love to go with you,” I told him.  “I love Chicago.  And I love weddings!  Well, that’s not true.  I love wedding receptions.”

“Before you agree,” he warned me, “you should know that it’s a friend from my hometown.  So pretty much everyone I knew growing up will be there.  Except Rachael, ironically enough.”

I hesitated.  I hadn’t considered that.  Ryan noticed my hesitation and quickly started to say that it was okay if I didn’t want to go, but I silenced him with a shake of my head.  “I want to go,” I said. 

Ryan grinned broadly.  “I have enough frequent flyer miles that we can fly.  It’s a terrible drive.  And I don’t know if you have the vacation time, but if you do and wanted to take a couple extra days there, we could stay Monday.  Or Monday and Tuesday.  It’s just such a great city.”

“That sounds fun,” I said.  “I’m not sure how much time I have, but I know I have at least a day.  Let me double check, but I’d love to stay until Monday or Tuesday.”

Ryan looked so excited that I thought about trying to talk to him about our status and making things officially official, but I didn’t want to risk changing the atmosphere on the fun time we were having.  And I also didn’t want to have that conversation a mere hour before he got on a plane.  Maybe when he got back.

The 16 days Ryan was gone went really fast.  I spent a lot of time rehearsing in my head how I would tell him I was ready to call him my boyfriend.  Erica, Kelly, Grace, and Rachael all thought I was crazy and overthinking it.  But I had taken such a long time getting to this point, I wanted the conversation to go flawlessly. 

But every time I tried to bring it up, something happened.  It was a comedy of errors.  My phone would ring.  His phone would ring.  We would get distracted.  And then we were on the way to the airport to fly to Chicago.  And in the airport or on the airplane wasn’t the right time either.  We got in late on Friday and pretty much fell directly into bed.  After the wedding, I thought to myself, as we drove from our hotel to the church for the ceremony.  Tonight.  Or tomorrow over brunch.  Yes, tomorrow over brunch.  That would be perfect!

“So,” Ryan said casually, flipping down the visor and checking his hair out in the mirror.  “How do you want me to introduce you?”

“What?” I asked, frowning. 

“Well, you won’t know anyone.  They won’t know you.  Polite society demands that I tell those people who you are, and vice versa.  So what do you want me to tell them?”

“Tell them I’m Jenna,” I said, giving him a weird look.  “Am I supposed to make up a code name or something?”

Ryan sighed.  “Of course I’ll tell them you’re Jenna.  But if I just say, ‘Hey Jacob, this is Jenna,’ we’re going to get a lot of, ‘Oh, are you two…?’”

“Are we…?” I asked, confused.  Then the realization hit me and I colored.  “Oh.  You mean they’ll want to know if I’m your girlfriend.”

“Yep,” Ryan said, nodding.  “So, in order to avoid any awkward conversations, I figured I’d ask you how you wanted me to introduce you.  As my friend?  My date?  My great aunt?  Who looks amazing for her age, by the way.”

I knew it was a joke, but I didn’t laugh.  Now I was wishing we had already had this conversation.  But now wasn’t the time either.  “Um, well, as your date, I guess?  Wait, they won’t think I’m hooker then, will they?  Maybe you should stick with friend?  But we’re not really friends, we’re…”

“I could introduce you as the woman I’m dating,” he offered.  His voice was calm but I could tell from him shifting in his seat and looking at his watch that he was frustrated.

“Sure, that’s probably most accurate,” I replied.  “Are you mad?”

“No,” he said. 

“Are you sure?” I asked, not believing him. 

“Jenna, I’m not mad.  It’s fine.  I’m just nervous, I haven’t seen a lot of these people in a long time.”

“I’m a little nervous too,” I admitted.  This was going to be a lot of people I didn’t know and needed to impress. 

Ryan turned and smiled at me.  I smiled back, and reached for his hand.  He squeezed gently before saying, “We should get in there.”

“Yes, we should,” I agreed. 

We didn’t even make it to the door of the church before we heard a loud, “Ryan?  Ryan Christianson?  Oh my god!  I didn’t know you were going to be here!”  Before I could even turn in the direction of the sound, a tiny, shockingly pretty redhead was engulfing Ryan in a hug.  Or, as engulfed as a tiny woman can do with a tall man.  “I haven’t seen you in years!”  She became suddenly aware of me.  “Oh, I’m so sorry, hi!  I’m Eleanor.  Ryan and I were high school sweethearts.”

“Well, that might be taking it a bit far, don’t you think, Nor?”

Eleanor giggled and rolled her eyes.  “No one calls me that anymore.  Well, actually, no one ever called me that but you.  Stop being rude and introduce me to this beautiful woman next to you!”

Ryan chuckled.  “This is Jenna, she’s my date,” he said.

I frowned and looked at him.  That’s not what we had decided on.  But he wasn’t looking at me.  “Hi Jenna, it’s so nice to meet you.  Ryan and I go way back, I could tell you all sorts of embarrassing stories about him.  Find me during the cocktail hour and I’d love to tell you as many as I can remember!  I have to run now.  I’ll connect with you both after the ceremony!”  She stood on her tiptoes and kissed Ryan’s cheek, flashed a perfect grin, and hurried into the church.

“Eleanor, huh?” I said.  “Your high school sweetheart?”

“It wasn’t like that,” he said, shaking his head. 

“No, no, don’t worry about me,” I said.  “I’m just your date, after all.”

“Jenna, I’m sorry.  I was surprised by her sudden arrival and messed up my words.”

“Right, of course,” I replied.  I took a breath, determined not to sulk.  “Well, shall we?”

He grinned and held out a hand to me.  “We shall.”

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Chapter 62 (1/11/17)

So, as it turns out, my goal to get a post up on New Beginning, New Adventures this week was lofty.  Buuuuttttt that's because all our conversation got me excited about this story again (strange how that works, huh?) and I got a bunch of writing done here!  I still have lots of work to do but I know where I want to go now and I have a rough idea of how to get there.  

Now, that doesn't mean I won't be posting on NBNA!  I'm pumped to write about Liv and Brody and the gang again.  I haven't quite decided if I'm going to finish up here first and then go over there to give them their due, or if I'll bounce back and forth.  I guess we'll see what happens!  I will tell you that I have plans this weekend that don't include writing, so it might be another week or two before you see a post either place, but I will be back and at it again soon!

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I spent the whole week dreading my trip to my parents’ for my grandma’s birthday.  By the time I pulled into my parents’ driveway on Friday evening, I had imagined every possible awkward and terrible scenario that could play out.  It was surprisingly calming, as the long drive had afforded me the opportunity to plan all the perfect responses to any awkward questions about my failed marriage or bratty Christmas outburst that might come up. 

“Hello?” I called as I let myself into my parents’ house.  I smelled something cooking but I didn’t see anyone.

“Kitchen!” my mom called back. 

“Are you…cooking?” I asked in mock surprise as I dropped my stuff and wandered towards the kitchen.

My mom laughed.  “Of course not,” she replied, and I could almost hear her eye roll before I rounded the corner and saw it.  “I’m opening a bottle of wine.  Want a glass?  Merlot.”

“I hate merlot,” I replied.

“You do?” she asked, looking puzzled. 

Now it was my turn to roll my eyes.  “I think we have this conversation every time I come home.  I’ve always hated merlot.  Do you have something sweeter?”

My mom shrugged and waved the hand with the wine opener towards the basement stairs.  “Feel free to go down and find whatever you want.  You know we’ll drink them.”

“Okay, I’m going to go put my stuff in my room and then I’ll go find something.”

While I was hauling my stuff to my old room and getting settled, I heard my dad come in.  When I went back to the kitchen, my dad was opening a bottle of wine.  “Went out and picked up a couple bottles of white for you.  We’re surprisingly low on white.  Here.”  He held out a glass to me, which I took. I took a sip and then put it down so I could hug both my parents.  My dad cracked open the oven and peeked inside.  “Dinner will be done shortly,” he announced, stirring something on the stove.

My mom wandered off while my dad finished up dinner.  I grabbed plates out of the cabinet and silverware from the drawer while I drank my wine and talked to my dad.  “So how’s the house?” he asked, pulling a pork loin out of the oven.

“It’s good,” I said.  “I’m finally getting things settled the way I want them.”

“You think that,” my dad said, chuckling.  “But you’ll soon realize that things are never quite the way you want them.  It’s one of the joys of home ownership.”

“Oh,” I replied, frowning.  “Great.”

“Hey, have I told you lately that I’m proud of you?” he asked, turning and leaning against the counter.

“Um, I don’t think so,” I said, smiling a little. 

“I am.  You’ve made some good life decisions lately.  I think getting out of that marriage was good for you.”

I laughed.  “Yeah, I think it was.”

“I’m starving, is dinner almost ready?” My mom reappeared in the kitchen, empty wine glass in hand.

“It’s ready,” my dad answered. 

He held out the bottle of merlot and my mom offered her glass.  When it was full, she came and sat next to me at the table.  “So…no company this weekend?” my mom asked casually.

“Were you expecting someone?” I asked, confused.

“Well, I just thought maybe you had a new man in your life…” she trailed off, looking at me expectantly.

“Oh,” I replied, and I felt my cheeks coloring.  “Yeah, I’m seeing someone.”

“Already?” she exclaimed.  “You’ve only been divorced for about 10 minutes!”
            I frowned.  “About 9 months, actually,” I said.  “And you asked like you were hoping I was!” I continued, indignantly.

“I did not,” she replied. 

“You did too!” I shot back.

“Your mother just wants to make sure you’re ready,” my dad said.  “Isn’t that right?”

My mom sniffed.  “Something like that,” she agreed. 

I sighed heavily.  I shouldn’t be surprised, but I was hoping that my mom could make it a couple days without being snarky about my love life.  “We’re just dating, Mom.  It’s not a big deal.”  I felt a stab of guilt as I said it.  Not a big deal?  Was that true?  Maybe.  But if it was, why did I feel guilty?

“That’s great,” my dad said.  He smoothly changed the subject, and I didn’t have to ponder too much longer.

My mom put me to work on Saturday, cleaning the house top to bottom.  I think I did more cleaning than she did.  At least until she sighed and came along behind me, re-cleaning everything I’d just cleaned.  “You’d think after living with me for 18 years you would have learned a thing or two about vacuuming,” my mom said, turning off the vacuum for the second time. 

“You would think,” I replied, turning so she didn’t see my rolling eyes. 

            I made my escape to the shower so I could get ready.  I finished my makeup just as the first guests for my grandmother’s birthday began to arrive.  “Jenna!”

            “Allie?” I asked, surprised.  I smirked.  “Is that really you?!  It’s…it’s been so long.  I don’t even recognize you.  You’re so….old!”

“And you’re such a bitch,” she retorted, drawing scolding from both of our mothers.  “It has been awhile though, hasn’t it?” 

I threw my arms around her, squealing.  “I didn’t know you were coming,” I said.

“You didn’t ask,” my mom pointed out.

“I didn’t know I needed to know,” I replied.  “But it doesn’t matter!  I’m so excited you’re here!”

Allie was 4 years older than me.  We had spent a lot of time together when we were little at our grandparents’ house, and with the way that splitting holidays with Kevin’s family and Allie’s trips back had coincided, we hadn’t seen each other in close to 6 years. 

Allie and I didn’t get much of a chance to chat until later when things were winding down.  We were in the kitchen, loading dishes into the dishwasher and finishing a bottle of wine when she leaned against the counter and said, “So I was really sorry to hear about your divorce.  It sucks, Jenna.”

I shook my head.  “Not really,” I told her.  “I’m really much better off now.  It sucked when it happened, and a lot of shitty things happened, but I’m a lot happier now.”

“Good!  Then I’m not sorry, and I’m happy for you!” she said, grinning at me.  Then her grin turned mischievous.  “So, any special men in your life now, then?”

I felt my cheeks turning pink.  “Yeah, actually,” I said, smiling.  “I mean, we’re just dating, but I really like him.”

“Just dating?  What’s that mean?” Allie asked.

“I don’t know.  I mean—“ I looked around to make sure no one else was in earshot, “We started out just sleeping together, because he travels a lot for work.  But we both got attached, I guess.  I fought it for awhile but finally realized that I had feelings too.  So we’re dating.”

She raised an eyebrow skeptically.  “So…you’re committed and he’s out sleeping around on his business trips?”
            “No!” I exclaimed immediately.  “We both agreed we’re not seeing other people.  I guess it’s just the label that is freaking me out a little bit.  It’s me, not him, that is dragging my feet on that.”

Allie cocked her head curiously.  “I’m not sure I get that,” she admitted.  “You ‘really like’ him, neither of you are seeing anyone else, you don’t want to see anyone else, I assume, but you don’t want to just call him your boyfriend?”

I frowned.  “Well…”  She had an excellent point.  An excellent point that I had no idea how to respond to.  I didn’t even have a logical argument (or an illogical one, for that matter) in my head.

“Jenna, you need to lock that shit up,” she said, shaking her head. 

“Lock what shit up?” Allie’s mom, my aunt Melissa, asked, coming into the kitchen.

“Her valuables,” Allie said, giving me a pointed look.  “You can’t just leave those laying around these days, you know?”

“Right,” Aunt Melissa said.  “You should get a good fireproof safe.  Put your important papers in there too so they’re safe and you always know where to find them.”

Allie smirked and I fought a laugh.  “Of course, Aunt Mel,” I replied.  “I need to invest in one for sure.”  We barely held our giggles in until aunt Melissa had left the kitchen.

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Author's note with a poll

Hi all, I owe you a big apology.  I'm so sorry I've been gone so long.  I also have a confession:  I am struggling with this story.  I just don't like writing it anymore.  I'm not sure how much of it is the story itself and how much is that I've been stressed, worn out, and really busy.  With that said, the end of this story will be coming sooner rather than later.  But I wouldn't dare disappear without ending it for you all.  You've been such loyal and kind readers and I want to finish up right!

But before I do that, I think I need a bit of a reset.  I haven't been happy with my last few posts.  They've been forced and subpar and I need to get back to enjoying what I'm writing.  So with that said, I'm thinking of doing a brief New Beginning, New Adventures reboot!  I'm thinking 3-4 fun posts checking in on Liv, Brody, Kinsley, Lauren, and the rest of the gang.

So, before I do that, I have a couple questions for you all!  Please answer in the comments :)
1.  Are you interested in reading a few new posts on New Beginning, New Adventures?
2.  If so, would you rather read posts from post-wedding, pre-baby, or post-baby?
3.  Any other requests?  I promise I will consider them all, but I can't promise to deliver on all of them!

I'm hoping to start working on these posts this weekend if I get some feedback on time period from you all, and maybe even getting one or two up this coming week!

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