All had gone well until he had proposed we move in together. I should have said no, but I had not done so because part of me could not resist the challenge of seeing if I could pull it off.
And more importantly, another part of me had been afraid of losing him if I had refused to move in with him.
The first month we moved in together had been a disaster. Then, just when I had been sure the bubble was prepared to burst, the tension eased.
I had to force myself to postpone my changes longer, which would allow me to run when Nickolas was away on overnight business trips or working late.
Of course, I can not take all the credit for saving the relationship I shared with him. Hell, I had been pushing it if I took half of it.
Even after I moved in with him, Nickolas was as patient as he had been when we were dating. Sometimes when I did something that would lift most human eyebrows, Nickolas would brush it off with a joke.
When I was devastated by the stress of fitting in, he will take me to a show or for a dinner, he will try to get my mind off my difficulties, and he will let me know he was there if I wanted to talk to someone, and he would understand if I did not want to talk to anyone.
At first, I believed it was too good to be true. Every day I come home from work, I will pause outside the apartment door, and clasp myself to open it and find him gone, but he did not leave.
A few weeks ago he had begun talking of finding us a bigger place when my lease was up, even implying that a condo might be a wise investment. A condo? Wow! That was almost semi-permanent, was it not?
A week later, I was still in shock but it was a nice sort of shock. It was mid-afternoon. The neighbors were gone.
Elizabeth's husband, Ken had left early to take their youngest to their workplace. Nickolas's other sister, Leah lived in the U.K, and because of the distance, she had to settle for a Mother's Day phone call.
She phoned after lunch and spoke to everyone including me, like all of Nicholas's family. She regarded me as if I were a sister-in-law instead of her brother's girlfriend of the moment.
They were all so peaceful and friendly, so ready to welcome me into the family, but I had a hard time believing they were not just being polite. It was feasible they did like me but, having had bad luck with families, I was so unwilling to believe it, I wanted to, but could not.
As we were washing the dishes, the telephone rang. Anne answered it in the living room. A few moments later, she came down and got me. It was Nickolas.
"I am so sorry honey," he said when I answered him on the phone. "Is Mom mad at me?"
"I don't think so," I responded.
"Good. I promised to take her to dinner another time to make up for it." "So are you coming over?" I asked him.
He sighed. "I am not going to make it baby. Elizabeth will give you a ride home." He said.
"Oh! that is not necessary, I can take a cab or the...."
"It is too late," he said. "I already told Mom to ask Elizabeth. They will not let you out of that house without an escort at this late hour now." He paused. "I did not mean to abandon you. Are you ok?"
"Yeah! Very well. Everyone is great, as always."
"Good. I will be home by seven. Do not bother to make anything. I will pick up the Caribbean".
"Caribbean? But you hate the Caribbean." I snapped.
"I am doing penance, so see you at seven then. Love you." He hung up before I could even start an argument.
"You should have seen the dresses," Elizabeth was saying as she drove me to my apartment. "God! It was awful, just like bags with armholes on them. Designers must figure by the time women need a mother-of-the-bride dress, they do not care exactly what they look like.
I found this one beautiful navy number, possibly meant for the father of the bride's new young wife, but the middle was so tight. I thought about crash dieting to be able to fit in, but I will not do it.
It is a matter of principle. I have had three kids, I gained this belly."
"There has got to be nice stuff out there," I said. "Have you gone to check out the non-bridal shops?"
"That is my next step, and I was going to ask if you had come with me. Ample of my friends think bags with armholes are tremendous, but they are middle age camouflage.
Then there are my daughters, who will not look at anything that does not show off their belly rings. Would you mind going with me? I will throw in a free lunch, A nice three-martini lunch."
I chuckled.
"After three martinis, do you still believe any dress will look good?" Elizabeth smirked.
"But that is my plan exactly. So is that a yes?" I asked.
"Sure it is," Elizabeth replied.
"Great, I will have to give you a call and we will set it up." I grinned.
As she drove into the roundabout in front of my apartment, she stopped. I immediately opened the door to go, and then recalled my manners.
"Please would you like to come up for a coffee?" I was sure she had offered some polite refusal, but rather she said, "Sure.
Another hour of truce before reentering the trenches. Including a chance to give my little brother a proper hell for throwing you to the sharks today."
I chuckled and directed her to park in the visitor parking space.