The First Time
"You really aren't even going to try one bite?"
Jill's voice is incredulous as she waves the pastry in front of his nose again. Roger sighs, exasperated.
"No. Do you have any idea how many grams of sugar are in that thing?"
Jill rolls her eyes.
"I do not. And I do not care. Irrelevant. The point is, these are the best cronuts in New York and we've been waiting in line for forty minutes-"
"Not my idea! I can think of quite a few better ways to spend a beautiful Saturday morning." He observes.
"We'll go to the bookstore next, I promise. But really! You are missing out on an incredible sensory experience and it makes me sad. We only live once! Sugar is a thing that exists, and you are not going to live forever no matter how much kale you consume! Life is short- why not just enjoy the ride a bit?"
"I can enjoy the ride without ingesting that heart attack waiting to happen." He shakes his head. "Croissants and doughnuts. Possibly the two least-healthy food items out there. How could anybody possibly think it's a good idea to combine them?
"Because it's delicious?" Defiantly, Jill raises the cronut to her lips and takes a substantial bite. Roger watches, mesmerized, as her eyes flutter closed in ecstasy and she gives a little moan, a sound of pure pleasure that he is more familiar with from other contexts. She chews, swallows, and opens her eyes with a contented smile.
"Absolutely worth the wait. What are you staring at?"
"You have icing on your lip."
She runs her thumb across her bottom lip, removing the dab of icing, and then returns her attention to the cronut, savoring another bite with an enjoyment so intense that he is beginning to wonder if maybe it would be better to forego the bookshop and return home instead. Where the bed is.
"Last chance before I finish this!" she informs him. "Live dangerously. Take a risk for once!"
"I take risks!" he objects, indignant. Just because he prefers clean eating and avoiding toxic substances doesn't mean he lives a life devoid of adventure. "I did quit my job for you. I think that more than qualifies."
"Yes, you did and I'm very glad." She squeezes his arm. "So compared to that, tasting a cronut that we've just waited forty minutes for should be no big deal. Otherwise you''ll never know if they're any good."
"I don't need to know if they're any good. They probably have at least a thousand empty calories apiece."
"Don't tell me you're not at least curious!"
He is. He is very much curious about what can be causing her to experience that kind of ecstasy and that is why, against his better judgement, he takes the last bite of cronut from her and places it warily into his mouth. Immediately he is overwhelmed by the sensation of flaky dough, rich cream, and sweet icing assailing his tastebuds. His eyelids close involuntarily. When they open, Jill is smirking at him.
"Delicious, right?
"Yes, "he admits unwillingly. "I will never eat one again. I prefer not to put that kind of poison into my body. But yes. That was amazing."
Jill sighs.
"Well, at least now you know what you're missing." She slides her hand into his, interlacing their fingers.
"Come on, let's go. There's a Jamba Juice on the way to the bookstore; I'll buy you a nice kale smoothie to make up for that ordeal."
"You know, we don't have to go to the bookstore. We could just head home. "He suggests hopefully. "I've got plenty of kale there."
"But you love the bookstore! Are you sure?" She looks up at him quizzically. He squeezes her hand, then leans down to kiss her. When he pulls away she is smiling.
"Home it is. "
The Second Time
"You know," she observes one night as they are getting ready for bed. "Just because you love Rocky doesn't mean you have to live in a meat freezer."
She shivers pointedly, wrapping her thick terry – cloth bathrobe tighter over her flannel pajamas.
He frowns, looking at the thermostat.
58 degrees. Like always.
"It's always this temperature. I've had it at 58 degrees since I moved in here. It saves money to keep it this low and it leads to better sleep. I can show you; there have been scientific studies- "
"It's also highly uncomfortable! I imagine there have also been scientific studies saying that it's difficult to relax in a place where one's teeth are chattering half the time."
He can't bear to think of her being uncomfortable in his apartment, not after all the time he'd spent longing for her to live there with him. With a sigh, he turns it up to 68.
He goes to the bathroom to brush his teeth. When he returns, he looks toward the bed and his mouth goes dry. Gone is the robe and pajamas. She is under the covers and has changed into a lacy peach camisole with spaghetti straps that leaves little to the imagination.
"You…changed" he observes unnecessarily, his voice suddenly hoarse.
She shrugs, smiling innocently. "I'm warm now." Closing her book, she places it on the nightstand and pats the pillow next to her. "It's late. Come to bed!"
He doesn't think he's ever obeyed an order so quickly or so willingly before.
The Third Time
"Why do you hate plants?" Roger asks, slightly hurt by Jill's request that he relocate his favorite.
She takes a breath and chooses her words carefully for maximum effect. "It's not that I hate plants. I like plants in the living room. I like plants in the kitchen. I don't like plants next to the bed. I feel like they're watching me while I sleep. I keep dreaming I'm in the jungle."
"Doesn't sound like a bad dream to me." Actually, it sounds very pleasant. He enjoys falling asleep surrounded by shrubbery.
"It's terrifying. Plus, I keep tripping on it when I get out of bed."
"Maybe we could just move it a few inches away and it wouldn't be such a problem. I've had that one there since I moved in here. It gives the illusion of space, you know. Tall plants draw the eye up."
Jill has begun to pace around the room. He knows that's never a good sign. "It's a bedroom. We use it for a very limited range of activities, including sleeping when our eyes are closed. I fail to see the need to draw the eyes up."
He has to admit, she has a point. Whenever they are in the bedroom together the ceiling is the last place his eyes are focused on.
"How about if we try putting it on my side of the bed?"
She shrugs.
"Suit yourself. As long as it's not looming over me."
The next morning he starts to climb out of bed and promptly trips over the plant, stubbing his toe and waking Jill with his swearing.
"Told you so," she mumbles, not bothering to open her eyes.
He moves the plant to the living room, where it thrives. Really, the bedroom feels much more spacious without it and if anything the ceiling feels higher.
The Fourth Time
"Calm down" she tells him gently.
Roger does not feel like calming down. On a calm scale of 1 to 10, Roger is at a negative 11.
"Look at this!" He holds up his Ipad. Jill sits next to him on the couch and takes it from him, carefully scrutinizing the Facebook profile. The young man in the picture scowls at the camera from his motorcycle with what looks like a cigarette in his right hand. Sunglasses hide his eyes and there is a large skull and crossbones tattooed on his bicep.
"I can certainly understand why you're upset. I can even understand why you felt the need to run a background check. But I don't think one speeding ticket two years ago is any reason for you to fly down there and try to stop Maggie from dating him."
"I refuse to have my daughter running around with that juvenile delinquent. I know juvenile delinquents. I've prosecuted them."
"And I've defended them. You can't always tell what a person will be like in a few years." She sighs. "Look, I know this is hard for you! But trust me. I was a teenage girl. If you try to keep her from seeing him it'll just make him more appealing. Plus, I know you and Renee have your differences but she cares about Maggie too and she'll keep tabs on them. And Maggie is a smart kid. She'll figure it out."
He groans. "OK. I hate to admit it but you're probably right. So what should I do?"
"Just listen. Let her know she can come to you if she's concerned about anything."
He does. A few weeks later Maggie tells him during their weekly FaceTime that she has decided she's too busy with her college search and schoolwork to do any more dating at present. Jill does not say "I told you so" - but then, she doesn't have to. Roger brings her flowers that night and when she asks what the occasion is he simply responds, "Thank you for being a former teenage girl. And for keeping me sane."
The Fifth Time
"I just don't understand why you haven't given notice yet! It's been three months! All of your things are here; you've changed your address officially, but you're still paying hundreds of dollars in rent for an apartment you don't use." Roger rarely raises his voice, but he is frustrated. Jill is huddled on the couch, refusing to make eye contact, and he doesn't quite know what to do.
"Don't worry about it. It's my business."
"But it's not just your business, Jill. I mean, obviously it's your decision – but it makes me feel as though you're not really committed to living here. Like you've got one foot out the door. I'm trying to understand, but it's not easy. It doesn't make any sense!"
She lets out a long shuddery breath. He looks over and sees a tear running down her cheek. All of his anger evaporates and immediately he joins her on the couch, smoothing back her hair and rubbing a comforting hand along her back.
"Jill…what is it? I'm sorry for yelling, but if you're going to be living here I need to understand why you feel the need to have another apartment."
She finally turns to face him, her eyes glimmering with tears. "It's because of Josie. That's where I was living the last time I saw her. That's where she used to come to visit me and that's where she'll think I am if she comes looking for me. I can't bear to think of her going there and finding out I've moved. I know I can't keep paying rent there forever, but I don't want to let it go."
He wraps her in his arms and she snuggles into his chest, leaning her head against his shoulder. He kisses the top of her head, wishing he had a way to take away the pain.
"Take all the time you need," he murmurs, pulling her closer.
The Sixth Time
"OK, I'm ready. Let's go!" Jill announces.
Roger, who has been ready to leave for the last ten minutes, looks at Jill in dismay.
"Where's your Yankees jacket? You always wear that jacket on Opening Day! It's good luck!"
"I don't always wear it. I didn't wear it two years ago and it was fine. It's the hat that's lucky." She adjusts the bill of her Yankees cap, an exact twin of his.
"But why take the chance?"
"Roger, it was seventy degrees today! It's too hot for it."
"It'll get colder once the sun goes down. You'll want it then."
She eyes him suspiciously.
"I have a sweater. I'll be fine. Come on, let's go. We're going to be late."
He is starting to panic. He had planned this all so carefully. The thought of her not wearing the Yankees jacket had never crossed his mind.
"I really think it's a bad idea to go without it."
"I'll risk it. Trust me, it's the hat that's lucky. The jacket is just a jacket. Let's go."
His mind goes into overdrive. They cannot leave the apartment without that jacket. Impulsively he grabs it from its hook by the door.
"If you're not going to wear it, mind if I do?"
He slides his arms into the sleeves. It is way too small for him, bunching at the shoulders and coming only halfway to his wrists. It looks ridiculous and Jill can't help laughing.
"All right! I don't understand why this is so important to you, but ok. I'll wear it."
Relieved, he takes it off and hands it to her. She shrugs off her cardigan and slides the jacket on instead.
"You may actually be right. It probably will get colder once the sun goes down." She slides her hands into the jacket's deep pockets. Her eyes go wide with shock when her fingers encounter the velvet box.
He has prepared for this moment. He has a whole speech worked out, complete with going down on one knee. He'd even bribed Tina with a box of Godiva chocolates to let him practice it on her. He and Jill have discussed it enough that he thinks it's likely she'll say yes, but still his heart is pounding wildly in his chest and when he sees her with the box in her hands all the words fly out of his head and all he can say is, "Will you?"
She bursts into tears and is in his arms in a second, whispering "yes" against his cheek. He slips the small diamond onto her finger and pulls her close, kissing her hungrily, and it is the bottom of the eighth by the time they make it to the game. The Yankees have been doing just fine without them and beat the Orioles resoundingly, 11 – 4. As they make their way out through the popcorn-scented air of Yankee Stadium Jill remarks thoughtfully, "Now you're going to have to ask me to marry you every Opening Day. Or it will be bad luck."
He takes her left hand in his, sliding his thumb over the ridges of the engagement ring.
"Gladly. As long as you promise to say yes."
"Every time, my love." She brings his hand to her lips and brushes a kiss across his knuckles. "Every time."