so desperately, blindly in love with him that she’d let go of her goals and dreams and give herself up, the way her own mother had.
Sylvie had the entire meal catered, and Gary, who’d never tasted gefilte fish before, ate an entire piece and even asked for seconds. When it was time to clear the table he’d practically leapt to his feet and started clearing and scraping and packing the leftovers in Tupperware. “He seems like a fine young man,” Diana’s father had said, before slipping into his office to take a phone call from the head of the Rules Committee. Diana’s mother, typically, had watched Richard go and said nothing to her oldest daughter except “If you’re happy, I’m happy.”
The next afternoon, a gorgeous, soft April day, Gary had walked with her to the Columbia campus, where she’d been invited to a young alumni luncheon during the school’s spring break. She was just about to kiss him goodbye and go through the gates on Broadway when she caught sight of a familiar figure across the street—Hal, holding hands with a leggy blonde. Diana felt her heart speed up. She knew Hal so well, his every gesture and expression, and she could tell, from his body language, that he was trying to decide whether to greet her or just keep walking. Her first impulse was to grab Gary’s arm and hustle him onto campus, to pretend she hadn’t seen her old boyfriend who’d dumped her so cruelly, but by the time she’d reached for Gary, Hal had crossed the street, calling, “Hey, Diana!”
Awkward introductions were exchanged while the two couples stood on the sidewalk between a hot dog cart and the ivied brick wall separating the campus from the street. “This is Maeve,” Hal said. Diana took her in—the boot-cut jeans, the tight button-down shirt, the expensive eyeglasses and ironic sneakers. Undergrad, she guessed, a theory confirmed when Maeve told them she was waiting to hear from grad schools for next fall. Diana looked at Hal, in his khaki shorts and alt-rock-band T-shirt and running shoes, and thought, He probably can’t get a woman with an actual job to go out with him . Then her bravado faded and her heart crumpled as she wondered whether he’d courted this Maeve with the same lines that had worked on her, whether he’d lain in wait on the library steps and said the words Ironic juxtaposition .
Maeve laced her fingers with Hal’s. Diana took Gary’s arm, knowing how good, how solid and grown-up he looked in his khakis and button-down; how, unlike Hal, he had put away childish things. He was a man, she thought; a man, not a boy … and on the heels of this happy realization came another one: I can make this work . True, maybe the chemistry between them wasn’t great, but what was chemistry compared to compatibility and maturity and two grown-ups who wanted the same things? She could marry him, she thought, and stick to her timetable: a wedding by twenty-three, a baby the year after that.
“You look good,” Hal said to Diana, his voice low.
“You, too.” With her mind made up and the matter settled, she could afford to be generous. “How’s stand-up?”
Stand-up, it emerged, wasn’t good. Hal tried to sound optimistic, speaking vaguely of some opportunities on the horizon, a regular gig at an open mike night and a spec script he was writing, but Diana quickly forced him to admit that he was still earning a living as a paralegal, still living with five roommates in a two-bedroom apartment in a sketchy neighborhood in Harlem … and, of course, still dating college girls.
“Nice to see you,” she said, offering Hal her hand, explaining that her attendance was expected at the young alumni luncheon. Then she slipped her fingers through Gary’s and, beaming, kissed him. His lips were still too thin, his mouth entirely too wet … but none of that mattered. Her mind was made up. Diana would bring all of her will to bear on the subject of Gary and their marriage (that Gary might not want
Sylvie had the entire meal catered, and Gary, who’d never tasted gefilte fish before, ate an entire piece and even asked for seconds. When it was time to clear the table he’d practically leapt to his feet and started clearing and scraping and packing the leftovers in Tupperware. “He seems like a fine young man,” Diana’s father had said, before slipping into his office to take a phone call from the head of the Rules Committee. Diana’s mother, typically, had watched Richard go and said nothing to her oldest daughter except “If you’re happy, I’m happy.”
The next afternoon, a gorgeous, soft April day, Gary had walked with her to the Columbia campus, where she’d been invited to a young alumni luncheon during the school’s spring break. She was just about to kiss him goodbye and go through the gates on Broadway when she caught sight of a familiar figure across the street—Hal, holding hands with a leggy blonde. Diana felt her heart speed up. She knew Hal so well, his every gesture and expression, and she could tell, from his body language, that he was trying to decide whether to greet her or just keep walking. Her first impulse was to grab Gary’s arm and hustle him onto campus, to pretend she hadn’t seen her old boyfriend who’d dumped her so cruelly, but by the time she’d reached for Gary, Hal had crossed the street, calling, “Hey, Diana!”
Awkward introductions were exchanged while the two couples stood on the sidewalk between a hot dog cart and the ivied brick wall separating the campus from the street. “This is Maeve,” Hal said. Diana took her in—the boot-cut jeans, the tight button-down shirt, the expensive eyeglasses and ironic sneakers. Undergrad, she guessed, a theory confirmed when Maeve told them she was waiting to hear from grad schools for next fall. Diana looked at Hal, in his khaki shorts and alt-rock-band T-shirt and running shoes, and thought, He probably can’t get a woman with an actual job to go out with him . Then her bravado faded and her heart crumpled as she wondered whether he’d courted this Maeve with the same lines that had worked on her, whether he’d lain in wait on the library steps and said the words Ironic juxtaposition .
Maeve laced her fingers with Hal’s. Diana took Gary’s arm, knowing how good, how solid and grown-up he looked in his khakis and button-down; how, unlike Hal, he had put away childish things. He was a man, she thought; a man, not a boy … and on the heels of this happy realization came another one: I can make this work . True, maybe the chemistry between them wasn’t great, but what was chemistry compared to compatibility and maturity and two grown-ups who wanted the same things? She could marry him, she thought, and stick to her timetable: a wedding by twenty-three, a baby the year after that.
“You look good,” Hal said to Diana, his voice low.
“You, too.” With her mind made up and the matter settled, she could afford to be generous. “How’s stand-up?”
Stand-up, it emerged, wasn’t good. Hal tried to sound optimistic, speaking vaguely of some opportunities on the horizon, a regular gig at an open mike night and a spec script he was writing, but Diana quickly forced him to admit that he was still earning a living as a paralegal, still living with five roommates in a two-bedroom apartment in a sketchy neighborhood in Harlem … and, of course, still dating college girls.
“Nice to see you,” she said, offering Hal her hand, explaining that her attendance was expected at the young alumni luncheon. Then she slipped her fingers through Gary’s and, beaming, kissed him. His lips were still too thin, his mouth entirely too wet … but none of that mattered. Her mind was made up. Diana would bring all of her will to bear on the subject of Gary and their marriage (that Gary might not want
Similar Books
