Chapter 17: Reasons to Celebrate
It was around three months into the new year when Broderick received word his new car was being prepped for delivery. He couldn’t have been more excited. And, honestly, it was sweet watching him talk so animatedly about his new toy. A grown man with an impressive career going straight into “little boy mode” when he spoke about its awesome features- like the groundbreaking ecotechnology- was adorable.
During one such conversation, Broderick mentioned he’d need to do something with his current car once the new one arrived. That was his way of graciously offering the older vehicle to me. He said he didn’t want me to feel cooped up in the house when there was such a convenient solution for freedom. Then he leveraged the car’s long list of safety features to counter my fear-based arguments that stemmed from the accident years earlier. Even through wounded pride, I knew he was trying to look out for me while I found my footing post Nate. That’s the only reason I ultimately gave in to his heartfelt gesture. He finalized his already generous gift by stating he’d continue covering the cost of insurance so I could put all money earned from my online projects toward the new life I was trying to build. I’d always loved Broderick, but somehow he kept finding ways to deepen our connection by simply being him. That’s not to say I didn’t feel indebted for all he’d done for me; I just hoped the day would come when I could repay him.
Aside from the recent gift that had been so kindly thrust upon me, and my slow and steady personal evolution, the new year had been filled with warm familiarity. Broderick and I often enjoyed watching movies, dining out, going for jogs over the bridge, and getting smoothies or the occasional indulgence together.
Broderick had been working long hours on a time-sensitive project, so we’d recently fallen into a period of grabbing takeout and lounging in front of the TV when he got home in the evening. We enjoyed everything from old, classic films to ridiculous sitcoms and gritty action movies. Romantic comedies were the only genre that was off-limits.
On one particular night, I picked a kickboxing movie for us to watch since they’d become a recent favorite of mine. As with most of them, the plot centered around a man in prime physical condition training rigorously for the fight of his life. I’d been invested in the main character’s journey throughout the film, but quickly lost interest during a love scene at the end. It was so uncomfortable to watch that my mind took it upon itself to wander off screen and bury itself in thoughts of Alex.
When the movie ended, I hugged a couch pillow tightly and turned toward Broderick. Then I hesitantly inquired, “Can I ask you something? Something personal?” I could feel the muscles in my face tighten as I filled with trepidation for putting him on the spot, but I needed to ask.
Equally tense, he said with a half-smile, “You can ask…”
“I know you haven’t been in a relationship since you and Kim broke off the engagement. But I was wondering… how long did it take you to move on. Like, with sex?”
With genuine curiosity in his voice, “Why do you ask?”
As I picked at the piping on the edge of the pillow, I found it difficult to look up at him. It seemed far easier to talk about such things as teenagers for some reason. “I’m just wondering when I might be able to move on. You know?”
He shifted his weight and dug his back into the plush couch before replying, “You can’t compare. We ended different relationships for different reasons.”
I shook my head knowing he was right, but still felt frustrated that I didn’t have some sort of scale to compare my progress to. I just wanted to know how much longer it would be until I felt comfortable moving on.
“I figured you and Alex already covered that, though,” he finished with a lifted brow and jerkish smirk.
Like so many times before, I threw the pillow I was holding at him. Then I stood up to refresh my water and quipped, “If only!”
By the end of the following week, Broderick had taken delivery of his new car and handed over his old keys to me. It was an exciting day for each of us. We went out for dinner to celebrate but ended up discussing upcoming events more than anything else.
The following weekend was going to be Gary and Cortney’s thirty-fifth wedding anniversary; a party swanky enough to entice friends and colleagues to fly in from Portland. They planned on taking full advantage of their new lifestyle by hosting a formal brunch at their luxurious waterside home. Broderick said he’d been struggling to come up with any great gift ideas and asked for my help. I had none to offer right off the cuff, but said I’d give it consideration while shopping for some appropriate attire, as his new black suit and my sequined dress seemed highly out of sync with the occasion.
Broderick also noted that Gary would be out of the office for a couple of weeks for his second honeymoon, shifting responsibilities while away. He proposed we take our own vacation after Gary returned to help Broderick reset after a demanding year of relocating and setting up the new office.
Almost immediately into brainstorming that idea, we landed on a group trip to The Hamptons. We’d never been there before but thought it would make for a playful getaway. It was also an excuse to revisit our youth. The gulf coast offers velvety sand and picturesque views, but the northeastern shoreline has an indescribable, yet palpable, ‘something’ that’s unparalleled. It had been years since either of us tasted that; we were long overdue.
Broderick threw out a few names of friends he’d like to invite, and I tossed out a couple, as well. It was slim pickings since most of our mutual friends were encumbered by a spouse or children, but we were still able to put together a dream team we thought would enjoy spending a week together. The quick and short list included his Portland pals, of course, and six of our single friends that we’d stayed in touch with since high school. After we divvied up invite responsibilities, Broderick suggested he take the lead on travel arrangements so I could focus on “all things anniversary.”
I happily agreed to procure a gift and suitable attire for the anniversary party. I also suggested I boost our beach wardrobes while out shopping. Broderick placed one of his credit cards on the table and said he’d like to add my name to his account to make such errands easier on me.
“How much longer d’you plan on using my … services?” I asked before laughing at my own joke.
“As long as you can tolerate me,” he replied with a quirky smile reminiscent of those he’d flash across the lab table in tenth grade chemistry when he wasn’t quite sure he knew what he was doing.
The following morning, I drove to the mall in what was considered my car. It was an eerie feeling. Remnants of the accident that had totaled its predecessor had been superimposed on my new ride; a sensation that would take some getting used to.
I moseyed along the mall’s main thoroughfare scanning every window display for potential gifts or, at least, ideas. All I kept thinking was, What on Earth could I get a couple who already had love and life figured out far beyond what I could conceive?? It was going to be a feat of creativity or sheer luck. I suspected our brunch attire might be the same, as mid-day formal was new to me. Thankfully, Broderick had become easier to shop for since learning his measurements, and being 6’1” with a 32-inch waist enabled him to pull off pretty much any style. Adding to his beach wardrobe was expected to be a breeze.
I thumbed through far too many clothing racks that afternoon before I’d assembled a few poolside outfits each for Broderick and me. His mainly consisted of patterned shorts and casual T’s, plus an awesome pair of swim trunks made from recycled bottles. I knew he’d love those. As for me, I picked up an assortment of swimsuits, shorts, tank tops, and flowy sundresses to cover all the bases. Our more formal attire needed to wait, however. I’d had enough for one day and wasn’t about to tackle the other end of the clothing spectrum in the same day.
My sense of accomplishment was tempered by the fact that I still needed to come up with an impressive anniversary gift but was no closer to narrowing my search. Still on the hunt, I peered into every store window on my way back to the car for inspiration. That’s when I spotted a tiny shop tucked in a corner that specialized in engraving. I approached for closer inspection. There was a crystal vase on display with a chunky, engraved metal plate that I couldn’t help but fixate on. It made me wonder… What if instead of getting a unique item, I got one that was more personal?
I shuffled my way over to the nearest sitting area and plopped into one of the chairs. I fought the weight of the large bags I’d been carrying to retrieve my phone from my purse. I headed straight to Tiffany’s website. I found a few beautiful pieces right out of the gate but continued to search for a couple minutes. I found several elegant vases, stylish bowls and trays, and a silver picture frame; any of which could serve as lovely gifts. Personalizing one with a thoughtful message or their wedding date for that ‘special touch’ felt like the way to go. I was so relieved! I added a few of the items to my online cart right then and there so I could share them with Broderick after work. We’d just need to select something available nearby since time was of the essence.
With my confidence lifted, I found myself looking forward to returning the following day to pick out some enchanting outfits for the party. I enjoyed a deep, accomplished breath while steadying myself on two feet. My newfound optimism about what spring was ushering in was evidenced by my strutting the rest of the way to my car.