I’m unsure how to pursue this. My dream-inspired panic is fresh in my memory, and now he’s behaving so strangely. I want to argue. I want to fight this type of existence, to insist this isn’t how I’m going to live, dammit. I won’t be afraid in my own home.
But anxiety is still holding my shoulders tightly. With a sigh, I step back and manage a smile. “If we’re having dinner at Elaine’s, I want to shower first. We always stay late.”
He smiles in response, but it’s not as bright as usual. “Not too late. I know you need your rest.”
Stretching up on my tiptoes, I kiss his lips. “Thanks.” Then I head back to my bedroom to get ready. For the short-term, I’ll trust him and put this discussion on hold.
Thursday night always feels like the start of the weekend, even though Friday is still a workday. Elaine stands by the stove, a glass of white wine in her hand when we arrive. The room smells like tomato-ey deliciousness, and my friend is still dressed from school in a navy pencil skirt and a pink sweater-set. She’s also barefoot, and her light-blonde hair is pulled up in a messy bun.
“Come in!” She calls, giving the pot one last stir before dropping the wooden spoon and stepping over to hug me. “I hope you’re in the mood for Italian. Oh, Mel. You’re absolutely glowing!”
She squeezes my arms before smiling up at Derek. “You’re now officially my third favorite person on the planet.”
He laughs and leans down to kiss her cheek. Her head tilts toward him. “I guess third is better than thirtieth.”
“Well, I have to count Patrick first, Melissa second—”
“I’ve been replaced!”
She laughs, and just then Patrick emerges from the side room, his arms full of laundry. “Hey, guys.” The sunshine is back in his voice, and it’s very reassuring.
“She’s got you doing laundry now?” Shaking my head, I glance up at Derek.
“I’ve got a service that comes once a week.” He almost sounds apologetic, which makes me laugh more.
Patrick pauses to speak low in my ear. “Not all of us are as set as Mr. Alexander.”
“Wait!” Elaine stops him and pulls a dress out of the load. “This is dry clean only.”
“Sorry, babe, but it’s got a little stain on it.” He gives her a wink, and she shakes her head.
She doesn’t notice that when she pulls out the dress, a gold silk tie goes with it. It hits the floor, and I pick it up, noticing how horribly misshapen and nearly torn it is. “Oh, no!” Flipping it over, I see an Armani label.
Patrick reemerges from the laundry room. “What?”
“Your tie is ruined. What happened to it?”
“Oh!” Elaine charges back and snatches it out of my hand. Her cheeks are flaming red, and Patrick laughs loudly.
“Elaine, tell number two what happened to my best tie.” That devilish gleam is in his eye, and it takes me a second to catch up. “My kinky fiancée thought she’d play dominatrix, but I had to set her straight.”
“Patrick Knight!” My best friend’s voice is a loud command as she returns from dropping both items in their bedroom.
“There she goes again.”
Derek coughs a laugh, and my eyebrows fly up. “Well, okay then.” I’m trying not to laugh, too. “TMI, number one.”
“Good work.” Derek gives him a fist bump. I elbow my own fiancé sharply in the stomach. He grunts another laugh. “I mean… sorry about your tie?”
Elaine’s voice is high, and her back is turned while she stabs the wooden spoon in the pot repeatedly. “We can all just stop talking about it now!”
“I’m only teasing you, babe.” Patrick goes behind her and holds her waist before kissing her neck. “You know I love your little stunts.”
I cross to the cabinet and pull down another wine glass. “On that note, we should have drinks. Derek, wine?”
He nods, and I go to the fridge to pull out the bottle of pinot grigio Elaine’s having and a root beer. “You got my favorite.”
She glances over her shoulder past Patrick. “Yeah, I figured you were getting sick of ginger ale all the time.”