JENNIE
The following broadcast was originally aired on local San Francisco NBC affiliate KNTV . . .
"Hey there, it's Haein coming to you live from Levi's Stadium, where the 49ers are taking on the Seattle Seahawks, their toughest rivals in the NFC West. We'll be with you play-by-play as these two powerhouse teams hash it out on the gridiron. But before the teams take to the field, there's another rivalry playing out, one equally as fiercely competitive as anything inside the stadium. I'm talking, of course, about tailgating. Wieners or bratwurst? Hots or brats? We're going to let these fans put it all on the line, and in the bun, as we taste test the best in tailgating cuisine.
"Now here we have Marcus O'Reilly, a native of the Bay Area, and a staunch hot dog supporter. He says there's nothing like a good hot dog at a football game, isn't that right, Marcus?"
"Oh, it sure is, Haein. A hot dog will take out a bratwurst any day of the week."
"Those are fighting words, Marcus. And I'll be taking a big bite out of that wiener in just a moment. Now over here we've got Angus Wheelwright, bratwurst enthusiast and, I understand, an amateur kickboxing champion, is that right?"
"You're right about that, Haein. And I'm here to say that my bratwurst can kick a hot dog's butt anywhere, anytime. Bring it, hot dog boy!"
"Whoa, whoa, fellas, let's keep the trash talking on the field, huh? We're just here to enjoy some delicious sausages before the big game and . . . Sorry, what's that? I apologize, gentlemen, I'm getting some breaking news over my headphone about . . . a baby and a . . . delivery . . . van? Some kind of labor . . . dispute? Shouldn't we be going back to the studio for this story? Wait a minute—who's in labor? Rosé—wait, my Rosé? I'm on my way, I'm on my way! John! Gimme the van keys! Gimme the keys so I can—"
Audio is dropped at this point as the shot widens to include two confused sausage enthusiasts, three confused news crew guys, and an entire legion of tailgating fans eager to be on television, all watching as the KNTV satellite van careens away toward the on-ramp, driven by a panicked sportscaster. The last shot we can see before the feed is lost is the newscaster yelling out of the window at drivers to "Pull over, this is a baby emergency" and to "Get out of the way, for God's sake" and "I'm having a baby! Waahooooooo!"
"Are you watching that again?"
"I can't stop. I literally can't stop. It's too fantastic."
"It is pretty great. How many hits is it up to now?" Lisa asked.
"Hmm, looks like . . . Jesus Christ, it's over thirty thousand views!" I refreshed the page and watched it climb again.
Haein finding out on air that Rosé had gone into labor had turned into YouTube gold in literally hours. It was posted within minutes of its airing here in the Bay Area, and it was all anyone in town was talking about. Rosé had texted Jisoo and me, so we were already en route to the hospital when the on-air incident happened.
Unable to reach Haein, Rosé had contacted his producer, who unwisely began speaking into his ear during his broadcast. Unable to multitask at the best of times, Haein usually received very little feedback during his live segments, as he had trouble concentrating when the "little man in the booth" became the "little man in my ear." But knowing she was in labor, they took a chance and told him.
And the world can now see what happened. His hijacking the affiliate van during the hot dog-versus-bratwurst debate had become comedy gold. Luckily, he was so beloved by viewers that the station had been flooded with emails and calls wishing Haein and Rosé luck in their special delivery.
In the meantime, I was in the hospital waiting room with Lisa, Jisoo, and Jaehyun. And I couldn't stop watching the clip.
"He's, like, a legitimate Internet star now," I gushed, refreshing the page once more. "And we're at thirty-five thousand views. This is crazy!"
"How many of those came from us?" Jaehyun asked, watching it on his phone.
"At least a hundred," Jisoo answered, watching it on her iPad.
Lisa sat down next to me, then stood up and walked over toward the nurses' station, scanned the hallway where our friends were, and then came to sit back down.
"Relax, babe, we'll know something when we're supposed to know something," I told her.
"I know, I know," Lisa said, then looked toward the nurses' station again. "How early was she?"
"Only a week, everything's fine," I answered, reaching for her hand and holding it on my lap.
"Oh I know, I know," he said again, squeezing my hand. "I'm gonna go get some coffee, want anything?"
"I'm good, babe, go ahead. Take Jaehyun."
She nodded, squeezed my hand once more, then he and Jaehyun headed for the cafeteria. Jisoo came and sat down in front of me and leaned against my legs.
"Play with my hair," she commanded, pulling out her ponytail and shaking it out. I ran my fingers through it, separating it for braids. She loved to have her hair braided. "Lisa seems worried."
"I think anytime anyone is in the hospital she gets a little jittery. I don't even think she's aware of it," I replied, keeping my eyes on the door where they'd just left. "She'll be fine as soon as we know how Mama's doing."
"It's so crazy. I mean, this morning, Rosé was just Rosé. By tonight? She'll be someone's mother."
"She might already be."
"Shit, you're right," Jisoo said, crossing her legs and sitting up straighter. "I always figured I'd be the first with the kiddos."
"So did we." I chuckled, flipping her hair under and over my fingers, weaving it into a plait.
"We're trying, did I tell you that?"
"Shit no! When did that start?"
"Pretty much right after the honeymoon, I stopped taking the pill. We thought we'd wait at first, but we talked about it and we both want a family right away. So we figured, what the hell. Let's do it." She turned back to look at me over her shoulder. "And believe me, we're doing it."
"Atta girl," I said, tugging on her new pigtails.
"I didn't want to say anything until after she had the baby, you know. I didn't want any thunder stealing."
"I don't think you can steal thunder when you don't technically have thunder yet."
"True," she replied, then turned around as the boys came back in.
"Any news yet?" Jaehyun asked, carrying a tray of coffees. "We grabbed extra, just in case you changed your mind."
"Nothing yet," Jisoo answered, springing from the floor to snatch up a coffee. "Come on, let's go look at the babies behind the glass." She led him by the hand as he handed off the tray to Lisa.
"How're you doing?" I asked her as she handed me a coffee and sat in the chair next to mine.
"Me? I'm fine, why?" she replied. I looked pointedly at her leg, which was bouncing up and down nervously. "Eh, a little edgy I guess."
"I know." I sighed and leaned my head on her shoulder. We sat in silence for a bit, as silent as a hospital waiting room can ever be.
"I hate hospitals," she said, and I nodded my head against her. "I just hate them. Even good news, like this is obviously going to be, I hate being in them."
"I can imagine," I whispered, and looped my arm through her. She didn't say anything else. And she didn't have to. I sat next to her, and kept my head on her shoulder. A few minutes later, Jisoo and Jaehyun came back in. And a few minutes after that, Haein came walking around the corner from the nurse's station, wearing scrubs and a pie-eating grin.
"You guys want to come meet my daughter?"
Mary Jane: 6.2 pounds, 19 inches long. Tiny and pink, with ten perfect fingers and ten perfect toes. And one giant voice. We didn't stay long, since by then both sets of grandparents were swarming. But we stayed long enough to see both Rosé and the baby. Each of us got to take a turn holding her; each got to take a turn hugging Haein, who was Mr. Waterworks. There were many dudes said, many backslaps and half hugs exchanged. And when the four of us finally left the new parents, we were exhausted. Not as exhausted as Rosé, but tired nonetheless.
We said good night, or good morning actually, to Jaehyun and Jisoo, and headed back across the bridge to Sausalito. The sky was just beginning to lighten, just a barely lighter gray than the rest of the sky. Lisa was pretty quiet, although she'd been so happy at the hospital. She'd held Mary Jane as long as they would let her. She was so gentle and sweet, nervous, sure, but willing to try it. Did my eyes fill a bit? Oh my goodness, yes. Lisa? Holding a baby girl? It was like a bomb of cute went off inside me. Still, she was quiet now. Thoughtful.
I pushed the door open first, bracing myself for a rush toward my ankles. First came Norah, our sweet little calico. Always the first to greet, she trotted over and promptly laid on top of my feet, rolling back and forth in delight that her people were home. Only a few seconds later, in strolled Ella, long and lean and beautiful. She headed straight for Lisa, as ever. She was a one-woman cat for sure. She tolerated me, but she adored Lisa. Thumping down the stairs one at a time came Dinah, meowing and chirping at the top of her lungs, seeming to say "Hello hello, where have you been? Hello hello, why did you leave? Hello hello, why would anyone ever leave here?"
"Hi, sweet girls, how've you been? Did you miss us?" I cooed, scooping up both Norah and Dinah, while Ella languished in Lisa's arms like she was born to be placed there. And on the landing, just around the corner, sat Luca. Calmly licking his paws and staring at us all with bland disinterest.
When Luca ran away last year, we had been devastated. He was lost for weeks, and while we had kept up the search, over time I had to admit that the chances of him ever returning were growing slimmer by the day. Until one night when he surprised us both by just waltzing into the backyard and back into our lives. And he wasn't traveling alone. No sir, my boy had been busy squiring half the town. He'd brought home not one girlfriend, but three. And as ridiculous at it seemed at the time, adopting three more cats into our household had proved to be a wonderful idea. Now Luca had his harem, and we had three more personalities to keep us entertained. And entertained we were, on the daily.
"Are you hungry? I can make you something," I offered as we all headed into the kitchen. Luca in tow now as well, winding his way through my ankles in greeting.
"I don't think so," Lisa replied, looking out the bay window, still holding Ella.
"Okay, I'm going to go run through the shower real quick then before bed."
"Okay, babe," she said, and before I went upstairs I went to her.
"Love you," I whispered, planting a kiss on her neck.
"Love you," she replied.
I left her standing by the window, thinking her thoughts, whatever they might be. In the time I'd been with Lisa, I'd learned that sometimes she just went inside herself a little, needed a moment or two alone when something was particularly emotional. Like today had been. She'd talk when she was ready.
I dragged myself up the stairs, straightening a painting as I went. Living in Northern California, we might not feel every earthquake tremor, but I was constantly straightening frames. As I walked into our bedroom, I sighed as I always did at the sight of it. Soft area rugs laid over gorgeous deep-toned wood floors, puddles of linen hanging from the rods over the windows that looked out over the bay and, in the distance, San Francisco. I kicked off my shoes, stripped off my clothes, and headed into the bathroom, where I flipped on the steam shower and let the glass begin to cloud. I yawned as I dragged a brush through my hair, trying to get most of the snarls out before getting it wet. I might have to take a personal day today, stay in bed. I was beat. I could hear Lisa walking up the stairs, and I called out to her.
"I'm getting in, babe, if you want to join me. You know, for conservation's sake only. No ulterior motive at all." I laughed silently to myself as I heard her steps quicken, and I slipped in before she got to the bathroom. I stood under the spray, eyes closed, letting the warm water sweep down over my tired muscles. I heard her enter the room, heard the sound of her shoes kicking off, heard the sound of her belt buckle jingling, heard the slide of denim moving down down down and then hitting the floor. I heard the shower door creak open on the other side of the steam and I smiled underneath the spray, raising my hands to my hair and arching backward in a very specific way. I was tired, sure. But I was never too tired for her hands and her mouth and her everything else she had to offer. So I arched. And waited. And arched some more. And still, waited. I peeked out from underneath the water, and she stood there. Her eyes poured over my skin, her mouth set . . . and tense.
"Babe?" I asked, leaning forward to wrap my hands around the back of her neck, just as her hands slipped around my waist, fingers digging into my skin. "You okay?"
Water poured down over both of us, wetting her skin, sliding against mine as the steam created a little puffy cloud of our very own. The shower disappeared, the world disappeared, and in the middle of that world it was just me and my Lisa. Her lips parted, one stream of water trickling down, wetting her lips and making them irresistible to mine. But before I could bring my mouth to her, she spoke.
"Marry me."
A statement. Not a question. It came again.
"Marry. Me." Her eyes burned into mine.
I breathed in, my ears ringing. My pulse sped up, my heart raced, I was trying to remember exactly what breathing meant. I was wet, and I was gasping.
"I want you. I want that, what they had today. I want it all, and I want it with you. I want you, want you to be my wife. I've got a ring, I'll give it to you right now if you'll say yes." With every word, her hands tightened on my hips, desperate, crazy, longing. "I had this all planned out, so much smoother and romantic and everything you deserve. But my head's been spinning since yesterday, when I saw my best friend steal a van to go meet his new family. And all I want, all I've ever wanted, is exactly that. Exactly you. And when I walked up those stairs, and heard the shower go on, and knew you were in here all naked and wet and waiting for me, I knew I couldn't wait another day, another hour, another minute, without asking you to be my wife. So. Marry. Me."
She knelt. Christ on a crutch, she knelt on the shower floor, where she had knelt countless times before . . . ahem . . . took my hand, and repeated those words again. Finally, with a question mark at the end.
"Marry me?"
And in that moment, I realized all the worrying, all the hand wringing and wonder ponder, all the thoughts about who says what's right for a couple, and when is it too soon, and when is it the right time, and if it ain't broke don't blah blah blah. Fuck all that noise. It wasn't about what was right for other couples, it was about what was right for us. Lisa and me. Because when Banger kneels down and asks you to be her wife, it's not really something you need to think too long on.
Funny thing about getting proposed to in a shower. You can't tell which is water and which is tears.
I said yes, and then she kissed me. I said yes, and then she touched me. I said yes, and then she slipped inside me. I said yes, yes, yes, and then she loved me.
Sometime later, she carried me to our bed, took a ring from her bedside table, and slid it onto the fourth finger of my left hand. It was shiny and sparkly and perfect and beautiful and looked amazing when I was clutching her backside as she pressed into me again.
"I can't believe . . . you asked me . . . to marry you . . ." I panted as she thrust hard.
"Believe it, babe," she murmured, rolling us both so that I was perched on top of her.
"I can't believe . . . how lucky . . . I am . . ." I panted once more, getting into my rhythm.
"Wrong." She sat up underneath me, driving deeper into my body. "I'm the lucky one." I gasped, she groaned, and my hips went wild.
"I can't believe . . . you're going to be . . . Lisa . . . Kim . . ."
Yeah, I got rolled over for that one.
I made my fiancé scrambled eggs for breakfast. Can you believe that? Not the scrambled eggs part, although they were pretty unbelievable. Old Barefoot Contessa trick. Beat the eggs with a few tablespoons of cream, then gently pour into a buttered pan, stirring lightly over low heat. Perfect eggs, every time. À la Ina. À la sparkly ring. À la 2.5 carat cushion cut on a platinum band. I couldn't stop looking at it. I added some kosher salt to the eggs. I marveled at my ring in front of the salt box, noting how nice it looked next to the Morton's girl. I added a twist or two of freshly ground cracked pepper. I gazed at how my ring caught the light and made tiny rainbows on the countertop.
I opened every single cabinet and every single drawer in that kitchen, just to see how my ring looked against each panel. This was normal behavior, I mean, right?
"I can't stop looking at my ring," I confided to Lisa as I set a plate in front of her along with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. The juice was freshly squeezed because I wanted to see how my ring looked while my hands were . . . turning on the juicer.
"I can't stop looking at it either," she admitted, pulling me onto her lap for a hug.
"That's sweet, babe."
"Of course, I'm usually looking at your tits, so this ring stuff is kind of cutting into that time."
"That's weird, babe."
"Have you told anyone yet?"
"Hasn't really been time. I've been too busy fucking my fiancé since it happened."
"That's literally the sexiest thing you've ever said to me."
"Really? How about the time I told you to lick my sweet—"
The great thing about scrambled eggs is they're so easy to make again when the first batch gets too cold to eat.
Moments later, as we lay on the kitchen table, we heard the sound of a plate crashing to the floor.
"You owe me for that plate," I said.
"You owe me for that orgasm."
There was another crash. "Oops. Sorry about that," I said, not at all sorry.
"When I broke your plate it was accidental, in a fit of passion. Pushing plates off the table on purpose isn't going to get you anywhere, Jennie."
"I doubt that, Lisa. Look how fantastic this ring looks on my hand while it's holding your cock."
"Jesus Christ, woman."
Moments later . . .
"I heard you on the phone with Jillian earlier. You really didn't tell her?"
"No, I told her I was taking a personal day but I didn't say why."
"Why are you taking a personal day?"
"To fuck your brains out underneath our kitchen table."
"I see."
"You have a problem with this?"
"It's the best use of a personal day I can think of."
"Agreed. Now, let's get to it."
"Are you going to be this bossy when we're married?"
"You have no idea, Lisa. You have no idea."
Hours later . . .
"I'm seriously hungry."
"Me too. Can you control yourself?"
"Me? You're the one that was pushing plates off the table on purpose."
"Don't start that again. Let's grab something on the way to the hospital."
"Are you having a heart attack? I know that last round was pretty intense. Thanks for being so bendy, by the way."
"You're welcome, and no on the heart attack business. I told Rosé I'd stop by today, see how she and the little one are doing."
"So we have to put on clothes now, I suppose."
"If you want to make it past security, it's a safe bet. Come on, I want to call my mom and tell her the good news."
"What about your dad?"
"You get to call him, and explain why you didn't talk to him first before asking me to be your lawfully wedded wifey."
"Shit. I mean, yay."
Lisa and I called my parents, who were ecstatic. My mom immediately shifted into wedding mode, asking me all kinds of questions about when and where and had I thought about colors and did I want my cousin Bernice to be a bridesmaid and made me tell her every detail about when she asked me to marry her. I left out the detail about us being naked at the time; that part was for me and me alone. I knew girls who'd been asked in a horse-drawn carriage, on the beach, at the top of the Eiffel Tower, even on the BART. But no one I knew had a naked engagement moment. Oh sure, afterward I assumed most were naked. But during the actual moment? I wanted to keep that to myself.
We got dressed, finally, piled into the car, and headed back into the city after stopping for cheeseburgers and milkshakes. Did I show my ring to every person working the drive-thru that day? You bet your sweet bippy I did. Here's me and my ring biting into a burger; here's me and my ring drinking a milkshake. I even had Lisa re-create the moment by sliding an onion ring down my finger. For someone who'd originally questioned the entire idea of getting married and whether it was necessary, I was sure turned around by a sparkly something.
When we got to the hospital, I turned the ring around, facing the diamond into the palm of my hand. I didn't want Rosé to see it right away. I knew what Jisoo was saying about the thunder stealing. I knew she'd be happy for me, but this was still very much about little Mary Jane, and I wanted to make sure we saw her first.
We knocked, and Rosé gave us the go-ahead to come in. Sitting up in her bed, makeup flawless and hair shining, she was eating take-out fried chicken while Haein sprawled on the couch, holding Mary Jane close to his chest.
"Hi!" Rosé called out, pausing from her chicken frenzy for only a moment to say hello. "Sorry, I'm starving and this hospital food was just not cutting it. I just pushed a baby out of my coochie, and all they want to give me is Jell-O? Fuck that, I needed something real."
Every thought I'd had about Rosé softening into motherhood went right out the window. Thank goodness.
Mary Jane let out the tiniest gurgle and coo, and four pairs of eyes locked on the bundle in Haein's arms. Rosé beamed. Okay, she'd softened a bit.
"How're you feeling, Mama?" I asked, crossing over to her and smoothing her hair back. "You look fantastic."
"I do, I really do. You should have seen me this morning though, I looked dreadful. Now I know why the Kardashians have the glam squad stop by after every birth; otherwise you look half dead in every picture with your newborn."
"You look gorgeous," Haein insisted. "Before or after any glam squad."
Rosé beamed again. Lisa had sat down next to Haein on the couch, and was examining the pink bundle.
"Dude, you can totally hold her, just ask." Haein puffed out his chest, causing the bundle to rise up and out.
"I guess I could, just for a minute," Lisa replied, stealing a quick look at me. I grinned back, grateful to get another chance to watch Lisa holding a baby. Hello, ovaries, I wondered when you were going to sit up straight.
Rosé and I watched the two guys transfer Mary Jane between them with all the precision of a tactical nuke team disarming a warhead. It took all I could not to giggle out loud, but it was incredibly sweet. "So how are you feeling? Like, for real how are you feeling?" I asked Rosé, once the transfer was complete.
"Like I just pushed a baby out of my coochie," she groaned, biting back into her chicken. "It hurt like a motherfucker. But totally worth it. Have you seen how freaking cute she is?"
"Pretty freaking cute I'd say," I replied. "You up for some more good news?"
"Always," she said through a mouthful. I turned the ring around. She screeched, showing me her chicken and waking her child.
"Sé! What the hell?" Haein cried out as he and Lisa both looked at each other and then at Mary Jane when she started crying.
"Let me see that ring!" Rosé yelled.
"Why is she crying?" Lisa asked, panicked.
"Her mother scared her half to death!" Haein yelled, also frantic.
"Everyone calm down," I soothed, trying to move over toward the couch, but unable to do so because Rosé had a vicelike grip on my hand. I expected her to pull a jeweler's loupe out of her nightgown.
"How do we make her stop?"
"Just walk her, Lisa!"
"I don't know how to stand up with her!"
"Is this two-point-five karats?"
"Call the nurse, she won't stop crying!"
"Babies cry, Haein."
"Someone help us!"
"Go get my baby from the Keystone Cops, would you?"
"Oh, for pity's sake," I said, snatching my hand away and crossing to the couch. "Hey, little miss, it's okay," I soothed, plucking Mary Jane neatly from Lisa's arms and cuddling her close. "Shh, shh, it's okay. No more screaming, I promise. Everyone your parents know just happens to be crazy, okay? Shh, shh . . ." I brought her to Rosé, who began to lower the front of her gown.
"Oh, I, uh . . . I should step out, I, uh . . ." Lisa said, getting up from the couch.
"They're just boobs, Lisa," Rosé scolded, reaching up for Mary Jane and bringing her to her breast. It was surprising just how natural it all was. Here we all were, four best friends, one of whom had her tits out. And this was just how it was now. Except for Lisa's eyeballs, which were currently staring everywhere but where the action was.
Haein came over to stand by the bed, and he finally saw what Rosé had been screaming about.
"Hey, what's that on your finger there?" he asked, looking down at my ring.
"What does it look like?" I teased, holding it up for him to see. He looked back and forth between me, the ring, and finally Lisa.
"Dude?"
"Dude."
"Dude!" Haein exclaimed, and picked Lisa up off the couch in a giant bear hug. Which he was still doing when Jisoo and Jaehyun peeked around the corner like a totem pole.
"We came to see Mary Jane and bring presents—what the hell is going on?" Jisoo asked, staring at this weird tableau.
"Ask the bride," Rosé said, nodding toward me.
Turns out they frown on screeching in the maternity ward. We were asked, very politely, to leave.
Once more, I found myself in a hospital waiting room with Jisoo, Jaehyun, and Lisa, although this time it was a very different subject from the night before.
"I can't believe you're engaged! This is so perfect. I was just beginning to feel my wedding planning blues. I had nothing new to plan! Now I can get started on yours! First things first, have you set a date? Do you know the venue? Evening? Afternoon? Black tie? White tie? I—"
"Slow your roll there, peanut," I cautioned, holding up my hands in the international sigh for stop it, stop it now. "We have literally nothing planned, this whole thing isn't even a day old. We haven't planned a thing, and likely won't just yet," I said, taking a deep breath. "Seriously. Settle."
"Settle. I'll give you settle," Jisoo said under her breath, shaking her head. "Okay, but, can I just ask one tiny thing?"
"One."
"What do you think your colors are going to be?" she burst forth, excitement coming off of her in waves.
"Oh boy. I'm going to send you to my mother's, and you two can plan yourselves into oblivion together," I said, laughing when I saw how excited that made her.
"Best idea ever! Oh, Jennie, this is going to be so much fun! I'll call her tonight, see what she's thinking. Oh, there's so much to do, I—"
"Jisoo. Sweetie. I was kidding. Just slow down, okay? Let me be engaged for a minute without all this wedding stuff, okay?"
Her face collapsed, but she shut it. For his part, Jaehyun merely said dude a few times, Lisa said dude a few times, and they clapped each other on the back. Damn them . . .
By the time we got home that night, I had thirteen emails from my mother riddled with suggestions about venues all over Northern California, and seventeen emails from Jisoo with links to dresses, shoes, bridesmaids' dresses, and cake vendors. I looked up from the desk in the kitchen where I was going through all of these when Lisa came up behind me to rub my shoulders.
"That one's pretty," she said, pointing to a dress on the screen.
"I can't believe these two, Jisoo and my mother. They're already starting," I said, shaking my head in disbelief.
"What, taking over?" she asked, chuckling and digging in with her thumbs and making my head roll back with a groan. I gazed up at her.
"Totally. It's going to be a shitshow."
"How can a wedding be a shitshow?"
"I'd let you read these emails, but I think I'm incapable of moving my head right now. Do you know how cute you are when you're upside down?" I murmured, groaning once more as her hands moved down along my arms, hooking around my elbows and bringing them up to rest on her shoulders.
"I like you upside down," she murmured right back, leaning down to dust my forehead with the tiniest of kisses.
"How does my ring look upside down?" I teased, holding my hand out in front of me to gaze at it once more.
"Sexy." Kiss. "Impossibly sexy." Kiss. Kiss. "Ludicrously sexy." Kiss. Grope. Grope.
"Ludicrously sexy?" I asked, my eyes fluttering shut as her fingertips danced inside the edge of my bra.
"It's a word."
"So is howfastcanyoubenotsodressed?"
"That's . . . let's see . . . one, two, three—"
"You're counting?"
"—four, five—"
"Lisa?"
"Hmm?"
"You should stop the counting and go back to touching."
"Oh. Babe. I'm getting back to it."
And she really just was. Her hands were sure, specific, practiced on my body. We'd been together long enough to know what each other liked, and what each other loved. The night before was full of love and passion. Tonight? Would be full of frantic, frenzied, crazy stupid, straight-up fucking.
Her hands went from sure and specific to wild and wanton in an instant, pulling me out of the chair suddenly and spinning me suddenly, tugging at my shirt hard enough that the buttons popped. She pressed me into the wall, my face turned slightly, cheek into the herringbone wallpaper I'd agonized over, but never examined this close up. "Oh," was all I managed to get out as her mouth closed around the tendon on the right side of my neck, nipping and tugging as she snapped my pants open and guided them roughly down my thighs.
"Off. Take them off. Take everything off," she said, her voice guttural in my ear, her hands placed on my body, one at my throat and one on my hip. This is why I'd never get tired of Lisa. She could go from loving to crazed in an instant, always able to surprise me, keep things interesting. "Off," she reminded me, pulling me out of my head and back into the present. Where I could feel her, hard and insistent, pressing against my backside.
I slipped my jeans down, pushing my panties along with them. I must have been going too slowly, because she suddenly yanked them the rest of the way down, pushing me harder against the wall. I loved sweet and slow Banger, but I loved Banger Banger the best!
With one hand in the center of my back and the other twisted into my hair, she pressed me against the wall, down and out, angling my hips back toward her. I heard her belt unbuckle, then the unzipping, and then I could feel her ready. Always ready. The hand on my back now slipped down to my hips, anchoring me as she shoved my legs farther apart. I gasped as I felt her, exactly where I needed her to be.
"Tell me you want this, you want me," she breathed, heavy in my ear.
"Jesus Christ, Lisa, of course I do," I panted as her hand left my hip and traveled to my breast, twisting and turning, pinching sharply and making me gasp once more.
"Tell me you want this," she said again, accenting her words with a final tug, making me arch into her even more, my hips searching for her.
"Yes, Lisa! I want this, I want you," I cried out, frantic now for the feel of her inside me. "I always want you."
With one hand still tangled in my hair, keeping me against the wall, her other hand now dipped below, finding me slick and hot and ready for her by her words alone. She groaned at the feel of me on her fingers, and then let out the sexiest groan as she sank inside, inch by perfect inch. I reached back with my hands, trying to bring her closer, to get her further inside, but she placed my hands back on the wall, pulling my hips out farther.
"Look at you—Jesus, just look at you," she moaned, pulling out almost all the way and then slamming inside almost instantly, bowing my back and making me gasp. "So hot like this, you're so sexy . . ."
"When you're fucking me?" I asked, blinking innocently over my shoulder. Which she then bit down on . . . hard. Then she pulled out. Which I barely had time to process, because the next thing I knew she was on the floor between my legs, with her back to the wall, pulling me against her mouth. Hard.
Here's the thing about my fiancé. She loves to take a taste.
Her mouth was furious as her tongue licked and lapped at me. One hand was firm against my backside, holding me against her beautiful face as I rocked my hips into her. The other hand held me open to her, keeping me open as the room began to blur and the colors began to run . . .
"Don't stop, don't you dare stop," I chanted as she circled her tongue against me, her lips and her mouth covering me, sucking and biting and licking and kissing and loving and . . .
I exploded. She stayed until I exploded again. And then once more for good measure. And when I was boneless and unable to stand, she pulled me down onto the floor, lifted my legs onto her shoulders, and absolutely wrecked me for any other man.
It's very possible that I passed out on the kitchen floor. Because when I woke moments or hours later, I was covered by a pea green and orange afghan, and Lisa was standing at the kitchen island eating a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios. Naked.
The week after Lisa and I got engaged went by in a blur. I worked, she worked, we told everyone we knew our exciting news and our phones filled with congratulatory emoticons and best wishes. Jillian even had the outgoing message on the overnight answering service at the office changed to announce my engagement. At the end of the message of course, after our address and operating hours were given.
I'd always spoken to my mother often, usually two to three times a week typically. Now she called me every day, multiple times. As early as 7 a.m. and once as late as eleven thirty, when I just had to turn on Jimmy Fallon to see an outfit that Drew Barrymore was wearing and wouldn't it make for a pretty bridesmaid dress? Jisoo was unrelenting as well. In her typical bulldog sensibilities, she'd brought every single bridal magazine that was currently in print to my office Monday afternoon, along with her back issues of Martha Stewart Weddings, starting around 2002. Took her two hand trucks and three rides in the elevator to bring them all up, but by god she did it.
I was beginning work on a redesign for an existing client of mine over in Dolores Heights, and the time I was supposed to be working on her kitchen remodel I found myself running interference on a Skype call between my mother and Jisoo debating the hotly contested topic of full or partial veils and why a forehead such as mine was able to pull off a more ornate lace fall. I didn't have a clue what any of these things meant, but it was exciting and fun and overwhelming and wonderful all that the same time.
By Friday night I was exhausted, and over take-out Thai food eaten on our living room couch, I told Lisa that I absolutely refused to let the planning of our wedding overtake the actual moment that we were celebrating. Our marriage. With a curry-scented kiss on my forehead, Lisa shook her head at my naïveté and simply smiled.
Famous last curry.