Jumbo shrimp and Premium vodka

It was the first day of college when Brian and I made a silent agreement to always be there for each other. That was the day we met, and 10 years later we are still keeping that promise.

I was terrified as I said goodbye to my parents and began my life at Boston University. I held back tears as I unpacked my stacks of clothing and books and wrapped my head around the reality that I was no longer living at home. I would now be immersed in a new world, one with a 24-hour a day social life. When would I close the door and find some privacy and reprieve from other people? How would I study with the constant noise and hoots and hollers that were already beginning to grade on me? Why was everybody else so joyful when I felt so unsettled?

We had our first dorm meeting at 5:00 that evening. Everybody started heading over early, excited to meet their other dormmates. My roommate left with the girls across the hall. I should have gone with them, but I felt paralyzed, not ready to venture into the crowded common room. Instead, I sorted through my school supplies, thinking about the classes I would begin in just two days. After all, that’s why I was here.

 I heard a light knock on the door. It was open, and I turned to see who was there.

“Hey, I was just heading to the dorm meeting. I think everyone is already there, but I noticed you’re still in your room.”

I looked at guy standing awkwardly in my doorway, unruly brown curls, horn rimmed glasses, deep blue eyes and a sympathetic smile. “I’m not sure I want to go,” I admitted to this stranger.

“Yeah, I know how you feel,” he said. “Hey, I’m Brian.”

“Kate,” I said. “So, you’re purposely going late?”

“Hell yeah, I thought about skipping it altogether, but I think we’re supposed to be there to hear all the dorm rules.”

“I just saw a group of guys hanging toilet paper streamers up and down the hallways. I’m don’t think we’re dealing with a group of rule followers.”

Brian gave a hearty laugh.  “We’ve got a rowdy crowd here on the third floor of  Danielsen Hall” 

“And it’s only the first day.” I shook my head in mock disdain, but I felt my shoulders relax.

He held out a hand. “Should we go? Maybe it won’t be so bad if we walk in late together.”

My cheeks blushed at the idea of touching his hand, but I nodded, put down my notebooks and we walked side by side down the hall to the dorm meeting and my first day of college. 

Brian has been by my side ever since.

***

10 years later

The phone rang and I knew it was Brian trying to call me for the third time that morning. We were having an opening at the art gallery tonight and it was crunch time. We still had to finish writing the descriptions we would display with each painting.  

Brian taught high school English, so I had no idea how he was finding the time to call at 10:43 AM, but I knew why he was trying to reach me.  He had asked me to be his plus one at a wedding next month for his ex-girlfriend. I told him he shouldn’t go, that we should spend the day hanging out, eating  junk food and forgetting the way she left him after four years of dating. He had devoted most of his post-college life to Marjorie. They had been talking about moving in together, until the day she broke his heart.

She had the nerve to leave him for the real estate agent they hired to help them find an apartment together, who she was now marrying less than a year later. It didn’t get any cringier than that and I had no idea why he wanted to put himself through this torture. He didn’t owe her anything, but after spending so many years with Marjorie, he felt he needed to watch her marry Hal.

“Brian,” I said, picking up the phone even though I didn’t have time to talk.

“Okay, I know I’ve been driving you crazy with this wedding business,” he said, continuing a conversation we had started last night.

“Aren’t you in the middle of teaching class?” I asked.

“They’re taking a test right now,” he said. “Listen, I know you think we shouldn’t go, but this will be the last thing I ever do for Marjorie.”

“I don’t know, Brian…”

“We can bring a really cheap gift and then order cocktails with premium booze and fill up on jumbo shrimp at the cocktail hour. It’ll be fun.”

“Hal can certainly afford the good stuff, with the high commission he makes renting apartments in this market,” I said, considering his offer. “Promise me we’ll eat all the jumbo shrimp? Oh, and can I purposely spill my drink on one of her bridesmaids?”

“Absolutely,  I’ll even bump into your arm so I can take the blame.”

“Okay, let’s do it, but only if you promise to stop calling me so I can finish getting ready for tonight’s opening.”

“Thank you, I owe you for this,” Brian said. “And I’ll be there tonight. Maybe I’ll even buy a piece of artwork to help boost your sales.”

“Um, you can’t afford this artist on a teacher’s salary,” I teased him. “I can’t afford it on a gallery manager’s salary either.”

“Good point, but I’ll be there anyway. See you at 8:00.”

‘Bye Brian, see you then.”

I loved my best friend, even if he was willing to watch his ex- get married. Maybe I even loved him because he was willing to watch his ex- get married.

After 10 years of friendship, we’d been through lots of relationship ups and downs together. I dated Jake for most of sophomore year, but we drifted apart over the summer. Brian spent an entire semester obsessed with this girl Lynn, who told him she was gay. He already had a female best friend. He wasn’t looking for another one. 

He met Marjorie a year after graduation, and it seemed like she was the one. Shortly after that, I met David. He moved to Salt Lake City a year later and asked me to come with him, but I didn’t want to leave Boston or my family. Also, I couldn’t imagine leaving Brian. We talked every day and saw each other at least once a week. Our friendship was the most solid and consistent thing in my life, even if he drove me crazy sometimes -- like right now. He deserved someone so much better than Marjorie.

***

“Are you sure this dress looks okay?” I asked Brian.

I borrowed it from a friend at work, not willing to spend money on this wedding. It was a clingy, burgundy gown with sequins modestly dotting the arms and hemline. I was pretty pleased that I fit into a size eight -- even if it was just barely. But when Brian showed up in his perfectly tailored suit, my second-hand dress felt inadequate.

“Are you kidding me, it looks fantastic,” he said. 

“Where did you get that suit? You didn’t buy it for tonight, did you?”

“No, I wore it to my sister Jessie’s wedding. Remember, last year.  You were in Europe and couldn’t be my plus one”

“Marjorie was your plus one. I was just going to tag along. And I told you 1,000 time, I’m sorry I had to go to Lisbon to be wined and dined at a fancy art gallery.”

“I accept your apology,” he said with a playful grin. “Anyway, I’m glad I kept this overpriced suit. It’s exactly what I needed for tonight.”

“It’s definitely swanky,” I said. “Are you sure this dress is equally stylish?”

Brian gave me a bemused look. “I told you, it’s perfect. You’re beautiful, Kate, inside and out. Why don’t you see that?” 

Plenty of guys had complimented me over the years, but nobody ever made me feel special the way Brian did. I guess that’s what best friends are for. “I do, I just like to hear you say it.”

He laughed. “Well then, I’ll keep saying it until you…” He trailed off, fumbling with his watch. “You ready to head out soon? We don’t want to be late.”

“Why not, didn’t we meet in the first place because we were both running late?”  I pick up my tiny sequined purse. “Remember, for the dorm meeting… that first day”

Brian puts his hands on my bare arms. “Yes, Kate, of course I remember. Now take a breath and stop overthinking this. Forget about Marjorie and Hal. We always have a good time when we’re together and that’s all that matters. right?”

“Right,” I said, the lump in my throat making the word come out as a squeak.

***

Brian sat stoically through the ceremony, his arm wrapped gently around my shoulders. He didn’t agonize over things, he just disappeared inside himself when he was stressed.

Once we walked into the cocktail hour, he was back to his usual happy self. “Okay, I see the pigs in blankets. Where you do you think they’re hiding the jumbo shrimp,” he asked, scanning the large buffet table.

“I’m not sure, but let’s get some Stoli martinis and then sniff them out.”

“I think Grey Goose is more expensive but either sounds like a plan.” Brian took my hand to pull me through the crowd. I didn’t want him to let go.

Ten minutes later, premium drinks in hand and our plates filled with shrimp, we were sitting at a corner table people watching. “I’m going to burst out of this dress if I eat all of these,” I said, biting off a piece of one of the largest shrimps I’d ever seen.

“That would certainly distract from tonight’s festivities,” Brian said, and I could tell from his playful voice that he was already tipsy. These were some strong martinis.

“Well, Marjorie is falling out of her wedding dress, so why can’t I?”

“You can absolutely do what you want. You’re an invited guest,” Brian said, taking a large gulp of his drink.

“A plus-one, so not invited, but I get your point.”

“I invited you.” He nodded as if this was the final word on the subject. “A guy is allowed to bring his best friend to a wedding to support him.”

“Do you need support?” 

“Maybe, but mostly I just like your company.” 

“Okay, then.” I liked the sound of that.

“Brian, Kate. Thank you so much for coming!” Marjorie sauntered over in her puffy sleeved wedding gown, giving the bodice a less-than-discreet tug upward, covering her boobs before she leaned over and wrapped each of us in a hug. I made a mental note that when it was my turn to wear a wedding dress, I wanted my boobs fully covered, although admittedly, I didn’t have as much to cover up as Marjorie.

“Thank you so much for having us. It was a beautiful ceremony,” I gushed, noticing how quickly the premium vodka has gone to my head. 

“Marjorie, I’m so glad I could be here tonight to witness this. You look so happy,” Brian said, somehow maintaining his composure. 

“I really am!” Marjorie gushed, but then her face turned a red that starkly contrasted with her ivory dress. “I mean, you and I were great together. It’s just that I never felt like I was your…”

She glanced over and me and then back at Brian. “Well anyway, I glad you could both be here. I really am.”

“Me too,” Brian said. “Everything happens for a reason, and Hal was your reason.”

“Thanks,” she said, “I appreciate that. Well, enjoy the evening.”

She eyed the large platter of shrimp that probably cost as much as her dress. “I’d better go say hi to other guests.”

With that she and her boobs and her new husband bounced off.

“Wow, that was weird,” I said, double dipping my shrimp tail into the cocktail sauce. “What do you think she meant when she said she never felt like she was your – and then just trailed off.

“You know, I’ve always blame her for leaving me, but I think I held back when we were together. You know? I didn’t give our relationship 100%”

“Wow, that’s not like you. Why would you say that?” 

“Because when she left, even though I was upset, a big part of me felt relieved. And being here tonight, I feel that same relief. Is that crazy?”

“No, not if she wasn’t the one.” I bit my lip before asking him, “How come you never told me that before?”

“Because I’m just admitting it to myself now.”

“Well, I guess time gives you perspective on things – and weddings do too.”

Brian nodded. “Hal is kind of a dope, but she’s happy, right? That’s how it’s supposed to be.”

“Yeah, I guess it all worked out for the best.”

“Yeah, maybe it did.” Brian picked up two shrimp, handed me one, and we toasted.

To Marjorie and Hal, and to finding closure on the past. 

***

Brian and I agreed it was time to switch to cokes as we walked to our assigned table in the main event room. We were seated at Table 13, which made us both laugh. After introducing ourselves to those around us, a mix of work friends and second cousins, it was clear this was the place where Marjorie and Hal put all their ‘overflow’ guests. But it was a nice group, and we chatted easily as we waited for our filet mignon, grilled salmon or chicken croquettes to arrive. We made our choices on the RSVP card, and of course Brian and I both chose the filet mignon. 

After dinner, the DJ really started pumping up the music, and Table 13 was all excited to get out on the dance floor. “Shall we,” Brian asked, putting out his hand.

I nodded, that lump returning to the back of my throat as I wrapped my hand in his and we made our way across the crowded dance floor. 

We bounced and twirled around to our favorite party songs, shouting the words along with everyone else, but then the lights were dimmed and the music slowed down. Brian looked at me through the darkness, his eyes shining.

“We should probably sit down now,” I said. We did just about everything together, but not slow dance. That was one place we drew the line.

“Why?” Brian asked, pulling me close. “Why can’t I dance with you like this.”

‘Like this’ meant his body moving closer to mine, his hands finding my waist. We’d hugged 1,000 times, and he had kissed me on the cheek, the head and the shoulders, but this felt different. And not bad different. “I guess that’s what a plus one signs up for.”

He laughed and I felt his breath on my ear. Then he moved his lips even closer and whispered, “I’m having fun with you tonight.”

“Me too, “ I said. Despite the total awkwardness of this evening, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed so much. As I thought back, all my best times were with Brian, even when I was seeing someone else.

“Why have we never dated each other,” he asked, his voice soft and gooey and maybe a bit influenced by the two martinis he had downed earlier. But doesn’t alcohol just make you speak more honestly?

“Because we’re best friends, and I think we’ve both been afraid to lose that.” I said, feeling him move closer to me. Too close and yet not nearly close enough.

“I might be willing to take that risk, I mean, if you are.” He could still have been tipsy, but his words were as clear and decisive as anything I’d ever heard him say.

“Yeah, I might be too,” I said, filling in what little space there was between us. After 10 years of sharing highs and lows, of helping each other figure out what we needed in life, maybe we were finally able to see what had been in front of us all along.

I rested my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes, feeling like much more than a plus one as we swayed together to the music.