him. He was warm, kind, and smart, everything a woman could want in a man, which was why Brigitte loved him, and so did everyone else. He was a totally nice guy.
“I have a hot date with my sons,” Amy confessed. “We’re going to have pizza for dinner, and they’ll be sound asleep by seven o’clock, so I can watch TV and pass out by ten. Not exactly the perfect Valentine’s Day, but it works for me.” Amy smiled happily as she stood up. She had an appointment in her office with a student who’d been referred by his freshman adviser. He was a foreign student, away from home for the first time, and seriously depressed. Amy suspected she would be referring him to the student health office for meds from what the adviser had said. But Amy wanted to talk to the boy first. She saw kids like him all day and was diligent about her work, just as Brigitte was about hers.
“That sounds like a good plan,” Brigitte commented. “I’ll figure out something with Ted later, and remind him if he forgot. Maybe he just assumed we’d have dinner together.” He did that sometimes, they both did, what they shared was a relationship that worked without any need for definition. After six years, she assumed they would be together forever. They had no reason not to be. It didn’t need to be said or written in stone. They were both happy the way things were, no matter what Amy said, or Brigitte’s mother. This worked for them.
By sheer coincidence, Ted called her ten minutes after Amy left Brigitte’s office. He sounded harried and in a rush and slightly breathless, which was unusual for him. He was an easygoing guy who rarely got rattled.
“Are you okay?” Brigitte asked him, sounding worried. “Something wrong?”
“No, just a little crazy. There’s a lot going on here today. Can I see you for dinner?” When he said it that way, he meant at home. He wanted to stop by her place after work. Brigitte knew the shorthand of their conversations, and what Ted meant.
“Of course.” She smiled in response to his dinner suggestion. He had remembered. “Amy just reminded me that it’s Valentine’s Day. I had totally forgotten.”
“Oh shit, so did I. I’m sorry, Brig. Do you want to go out?”
“Whatever you want. I’m just as happy staying home, especially in this weather.” The snowfall had increased, and now there was a foot of snow on the ground. Driving wouldn’t be easy.
“There’s something I want to celebrate with you tonight. How about an early dinner at Luigi’s? You can stay at my place tonight if you want.” It was an offer he rarely made during the week, nor did she. They both liked getting an early start to their day in their own familiar settings. They usually only spent weekend nights together.
“What are we celebrating?” Brigitte asked, slightly mystified. She could hear the excitement in his voice, although he was trying to sound calmer than he felt, but she could sense that too.
“I’m not going to spoil the surprise. I want to say it in person. We’ll talk about it over dinner.”
“You got a promotion in the department?” She couldn’t stand the suspense, and he laughed in answer, and sounded like a man with a secret, or a plan. This was all very unlike him, and it made Brigitte a little nervous. What if Amy was right, and he was going to use Valentine’s Day to propose? Suddenly her heart and mind were racing, and she was scared.
“It’s much more important than that. Do you mind taking a cab? I’ll meet you at Luigi’s. I know that’s not a very romantic way to start Valentine’s Day, but I’m going to be stuck in the office till dinner.” He sounded apologetic.
“That’s fine. I’ll meet you there,” she said with a quaver in her voice.
“I love you, Brig,” he breathed into the phone before he hung up, and she looked stunned. He rarely said that, except in bed, and suddenly she wondered if Amy’s wishes for her were coming true. Thinking about it, she felt panicked. She wasn’t at all sure she was ready for a proposal. She was almost sure she wasn’t, but it sounded like a distinct possibility to her, and half an hour later she wandered down to Amy’s office with a worried look. She stood in the doorway and glared at her friend. Amy’s meeting with the homesick freshman had just ended, and she had referred him to see a psychiatrist for meds.
“I think you jinxed me,” Brigitte said with a look of angst as she walked into Amy’s office and sat down.
“About what?” Amy looked confused.
“Ted just called and invited me to dinner. He said he has a surprise, bigger than a promotion, and he sounded as nervous as I feel now. Omigod, I think he’s going to propose. I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Hallelujah, it’s about goddamn time! At least one of you is making some sense here. Listen, six years of practically living together is long enough. You two get along better than any of the married couples I know. This will be great!”
“We don’t live together,” Brigitte corrected her. “We spend weekends together.”
“And how long do you want to do that? Another six years maybe? Ten? If Ted is planning to propose, he has the right idea. Life is short. You can’t spend it in a holding pattern forever.”
“Why not? It works for us.”
“Maybe not. It sounds like he wants more, and he should. So should you.”
“I do. I just don’t know if I want it right now. Why rock the boat? ‘Don’t fix what ain’t broke,’ as the saying goes. Our arrangement is perfect as it is.”
“It’ll be more perfect if you make a real commitment to each other. You can build something, a life, a family. You can’t pretend to be students forever. That’s what too many people in the academic world do. We all delude ourselves that we’re kids too, and we’re not. One day you wake up and realize that you’re old, and life passed you by. Don’t let that happen to you. You both deserve better than that. It may sound scary to you now, but it’ll be great. Trust me. You need to take the next step.” Amy had always thought that Brigitte should do that with her work too. She thought Brigitte should be head of admissions, and could have been, but she didn’t want that. She was content to be number three-she said it gave her more time to work on her book and degree and do more research.
Brigitte had never had a need to lead the pack. She was always content to be in an easy space, not the more stressful one of leader. She had never liked to take risks. Amy was sure it had to do with Brigitte’s childhood. She had said to Amy once that her father had been a risk-taker. He had gambled all their money in the stock market, lost everything, and committed suicide. Her mother had struggled for years afterward, and worked hard to keep them afloat. What Brigitte hated most in life was risk, of any kind. If she was comfortable, she wouldn’t budge. And Ted seemed to be content with that. But at some point, no matter how scary it was for her, Brigitte had to move forward. She couldn’t stay rooted to one spot forever. Without risk, there was no growth. Amy ardently hoped that Ted would propose to her friend that night, no matter how scared she was.
“Try not to worry about it,” Amy reassured her. “You love each other. It will be fine.”
“What if I marry him and he dies?” She was thinking of her father, and her eyes filled with tears as she looked at her friend.
Amy spoke to her gently and could see how frightened she was. “Sooner or later, if you stay together until you’re old, one of you is going to die. I don’t think you need to worry about that for a hell of a long time,” she said to reassure her, but her fears were deeper than that.
“I just think about it sometimes. I know what my mom went through when my dad died.” She had been eleven, and she remembered her mother crying all the time, and then going out to find a job to support them. She had been a book editor in a publishing house for years, and had retired only the year before. She had time now to do things she had wanted to do for years and had never had time for: see her friends, play bridge, exercise, take cooking lessons, play golf. For several years now, she had been working on a history of their family genealogy, which she found fascinating and Brigitte didn’t. But Brigitte never wanted to end up a widow, with a young child, like her mother. She’d rather stay single, just the way she was, forever.
Brigitte had dealt with her father’s suicide in therapy when she was younger. She had forgiven him, but she had never gotten over her fear of change and taking risks. And she was feeling badly shaken at the prospect of Ted’s possible proposal that night. So much so that she called her mother after work, before she went out to dinner, and her mother could hear the worry in her voice, and without explanation, Brigitte started talking about her father. It had been a long time since she’d done that, and her mother was puzzled. Brigitte didn’t explain why.
“Are you sorry you married him, Mom?” Brigitte had never asked her mother that before, although she had often wondered, and her mother sounded startled.
“Of course not. I had you.”
