housewarming

Friday. My girlfriend, A, hosts a party at her fabulous apartment. I invite some old friends from the city. I meet one of A's former coworkers. He is tall. White. Brown hair, brown eyes. A long nose. A sheepish, surprised smile. A lawyer, clerking for a judge. A clerk.

Towards the end of the night, Clerk is on his way out, and I chat him up. Eventually he asks me about my weekend plans, and whether I want to meet up. I give him my phone number. A, the hostess, stops and says, I love it when my two of my favorite people…get along. We’re going out tomorrow night, she announces. Are you up for it?

Sure, Clerk says. We’ll do it up right.

He leaves. I smile. One eyebrow is arched.

The next morning at brunch, I ask A, What’s the deal with _____? Her eyes narrow. He’s quite the charmer. He’s a great friend, but with women…

Saturday night, I see the Soccer Player (see previous entry).

Sunday. A double date. How quaint.

I meet A, who is on a date with my friend F, and Clerk, at a boisterous Mediterranean restaurant on a trendy street.

We eat. Smooth, creamy hummus. Long, salty sardines. Warm, grilled pita. Rich, sweet cheeses. We drink. A bottle of dry, lovely red wine. And then a second. And then a third.

The boys pay, though A and I are Career Women and they are essentially unemployed. It is cute.

We go next door. We drink a bottle of sangria. And mojitos. And caiprinhas. And smoke a lemon-flavored hookah. I lean towards Clerk. He leans towards me. There is no pretense of romance.

A and F stagger out. We stay. Mango hookah. More cocktails. The lights go up. We squint. We leave.

The snow is delicate and white and cold. It is beautiful. We hook arms and look up in wonder. He looks up at the falling snow and says, I like DC, and for a moment, I let myself feel.

His new apartment is only blocks away. He is still moving in, so plastic sheets are stretched over the new hardwood floors. A ladder stands in front of a window. Suitcases and paint cans line the walls. The 15-foot walls have just been painted an off-white shade, but his bedroom walls remain a pale, odd, lime green.

We laugh. I walk toward him. We kiss. And kiss. And kiss. We move into the lime green room. We take off our shirts.

We lie down on his air mattress.

Air mattress.

Air mattress.

It holds up surprisingly well.

In the morning, I can't sleep. He feels my eyes on his face. We talk. Where we have traveled. Where we would travel. About grad school. We talk about his job, which he likes...except that he has to work on MLK.

He says, Thanks for a great first night in my apartment. My friends aren't going to be able to top this as a housewarming gift. I laugh. I put on my panties and stand up to drink water. I flip my hair. I know he is watching me. I realize I don't want to go.

I zip up my tall boots. I leave. Talk to you later. Have a good day. Quick kiss.

I saunter out. I walk a few blocks in the bright cold sun. Slowly, my smile fades.