Erik with a K

She swore she was going in circles, but then again, that wasn’t exactly possible on an interstate headed due west. Still, she thought she’d have hit the exit for Highway 50 by now to drop her in to Lake Tahoe.

“This is so damn stupid. Why are you even going to this thing, Lillian?” She didn’t talk to herself often. That was usually reserved for moments just like this one: when she could not fathom the situation she put herself in.

“Lillian, what did I say about staying out past curfew with that boy?”

Or “you’re on thin ice, Lillian. Check that attitude before I ground you for the weekend.”

Lily could hear her mother now, despite her being a thousand miles away in her Portland condo. She mimicked her mother out loud. “Oh, Lillian, honey. Please don’t be so desperate as to actually go.”

A wave of guilt flashed over for mocking her mother behind her back, but her anger returned just as fast. Linda wasn’t to blame, but Lily couldn’t help holding a grudge over her mother’s three failed engagements during her adolescent years. Okay, maybe she did blame her mother a little.

At least, that was easier than confessing her actual insanity for attending her ex-fiancé’s wedding. She was only two flopped fiancé’s behind her mother now. Her shoulders clenched remembering her best friend’s words last week.

“Oh Lord. Is it possible that we could actually turn in to our parents?”

Lily had rolled her eyes at that and threw back her third shot of tequila that night. It’s much easier for Addison. What’s so wrong with turning in to her parents? They’re still married, and she knows her father. For Lily, Dad was synonymous with “unknown sperm contribution” and Mom meant a 45 year-old woman who hit on 25 year-olds at the bar. Essentially, dysfunction.

    “Is it completely, totally, one hundred-percent irrational for me to go to his wedding?”

    “Lily, I’ll ask again. What good can come of attending Eric’s wedding? It has never, in the history of the world, been a good idea for an ex to show up at the wedding. An ex-fiancé, no less. Trust me. You don’t ever want to be the other woman.”

    “I’m not, he’s not cheating on her with me.”

    “Well you still love him. That makes you a woman similarly affiliated to the groom. Don’t give me those eyes,” she pointed at Lily before chalking up her pool stick. Lily had frowned.

    “I do not love him.”

“Then what do you want to achieve by going?”

Lily sat up straighter, which was harder with the tequila twisting her vision. “The high road. I’m rising above.”

“You can rise above by not going and never talking to him again.” Lily huffed, and Addison slouched in resignation. “I’m not telling you what to do.”

“Really? It feels like you are,” Lily snapped, crossing her arms and wobbling on her barstool.

Addison pinched Lily playfully. “You’re my best friend. I’m just trying to protect you.”

“Well, don’t worry about me,” she slurred, standing up and stumbling to the pool table. “I am absolutely fine. So Eric’s getting married, so what? He broke off our engagement two years ago. It’s fine. I’m gonna go, look hot, drink a lot, and try my best to not be spiteful when I wish them a happily, never, after.”

“Happily ever after,” Addison laughed.

Lily scrunched her eyebrows at Addison. “That’s what I said.”

Addison bopped her on the nose and lined the cue and 8-ball up to win the game. “If I drain this, the 8-ball is magic and you can ask it any question you want.” The idea appealed to a drunk Lily, who cheered when Addison made it despite the fact that she had just lost. Addison removed the 8-ball and handed it to Lily.

“Shake it, and ask.”

“Magic 8-ball,” Lily addressed the porcelain ball. “Is it a terrible idea to go to Eric’s wedding?” She shook it vigorously, but in her clumsily stupor, tossed it over her shoulder. It hit the bar counter, and rolled over the other side. The line of fresh glasses must have been there, because a loud clamor and the sound of breaking glass followed suit.

“Oops,” Lily hiccupped.

She never did get that magic answer.

As she searched intently for any freeway directions that indicated Lake Tahoe, she wondered if that had been her sign after all. “If that was my sign, I would have known it. I wouldn’t have come.”

Addison had scoffed at her when she said that same line yesterday. “Please, Lily! You wouldn’t listen to a sign telling you not to go if it slapped you on the wrist.”

“That’s not—” Addison tried to prove her point by slapping Lily on the wrist. She yanked her hand away to finished backing her duffel bag. “Ha, ha.”

“You’re driving from Salt Lake to Tahoe. You don’t think that’s a little far?”

It sure as hell felt far now, seven hours in to the eight hour journey.

The exit had to be near. Her phone had died and as luck would have it, her car charger was burnt out. The old-fashioned way of relying on overpass signs was her only option now.

Man, seven hours, she thought. Had it already been seven hours drumming with regret? Consumed by self-conscious feels of her pathetic life? Out of habit, Lily replayed the break-up with Eric back in her mind.

“I’m not ready,” he had started almost two years ago.

Lily was finishing applying her lipstick in the mirror. They were set to meet his parents for dinner and discuss some of the final details for the wedding, which was three weeks out. She knew Eric was sitting on the bed, but she didn’t look at his reflection in the mirror as she wiped a misplaced smudge of deep red.

“No worries,” she responded nonchalantly as she ran a hand through her hair. Eric’s parents could be a bit uptight, and she was compelled to ‘dress to impress’ since they came from money. The judgmental type of money, that frowned upon plebeians. “Take your time, I’m not in a rush.”

“You can’t ever go wrong with a little black dress.” Linda’s mantra, engrained in Lily since her first middle school dance. It was perhaps the sole piece of motherly advice that hadn’t ever steered her wrong. Not in middle school, and not tonight. She looked classy, she felt confident.

“That’s not what I meant,” Eric mumbled. She caught his eye in the mirror. His tie was loose around his neck. His sandy brown hair had been slicked over to the side, and the ends were curling up behind his ear. It was uncharacteristically a tad out of place, though – like he had scratched the back of his head a few times.

Lily spun back in to the room, her red heels clicking as she strided to him. “Oh, Eric. No need to fuss.” She took her tie gently in her hands and began to tie it, smiling down at him. Not often disheveled, Lily found it rather endearing to see him like this every now and then. It reminded her that he was human and didn’t have it together all the time, despite his mostly-sane family.

He surprised her by grabbing her hands before she finished tying it. “I can’t do this.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Stop that, let me help.”

But he didn’t budge. He wasn’t even looking at her. “Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

“Than what needs to be?” Her stomach fluttered at his stoic silence. She dropped her hands.

“You’re not listening.” He snapped, confusing her even more. What wasn’t she listening to? “I said, I’m not ready.” Patiently, she watched and waited for his elaboration. He was irked, and pained, but at what?

“Okay,” she started, wary. “Like I said, I can wait for—”

    “I’m not ready to get married.”

    “Oh.” She started to pace. “Do you want to postpone it until the holidays? Is it because the golf course fell through last week? Eric, we can find another weekend to get married if this is about the golf course.” Lily was wracking her brain to rationalize what he could mean. Was it something they could fix? A simple venue freak-out? A normal level of doubt?

    He snapped again, as if the answer were totally obvious and she should be understanding by now. “No, Lily, it’s because I’m only twenty-three and I’m worried about settling down for the rest of my life too soon.

Settling. He thought he was settling. It might not be verbatim what he said, but she could read between the lines and figure it out. “Settling. Oh. Great. So after four years together, you’ve been settling. Right. And you thought the right time to tell me was now. Eight months in to an engagement, three weeks from our wedding. Right.”

The rest that followed was a bunch of horse shit that she didn’t like to relieve in explicit detail. Him assuring her that he didn’t feel he was ‘settling’ with her, and that she was the greatest woman he had ever known, and he loved her so much, and maybe he’d be ready someday. Yadda, yadda, yadda. It all goes to shit when he’s engaged to a younger, blonder woman seven months after the split.

Ever since then, Lily had be torturing herself to find some type of sign or red flag that he wasn’t happy, or wasn’t The One.

“It’s too raw for you to see the bad,” Addison had pointed out. She didn’t particularly like Eric all too much, but Lily didn’t know if that was because of the break-up, or if the break-up freed her true feelings about him. Neither way made Lily feel any better. Addison’s efforts to rationalize with Lily fell flat, and often ended with Lily throwing back too many tequila shots.

The alone time on this exceptionally long drive certainly gave her space to think without the scrutiny of Linda and her best friend.

“Where is that damned exit?”

Lily knew she was going the complete wrong way at this point. She was just in Reno, and now she was in the middle of nowhere. The compass on her car indicated she was moving north. When did that happen?

“Oh no,” she cringed. “South. I need to be going south. I know at least that much. Damn it.”

As soon as a turnout came in to view, she swerved in to it and put the car in park. If Eric was here, he would be laughing at her and making her feel better for getting them lost for the umpteenth time. Linda would be losing her patience, assuming she had any to lose. Addison would pull off at the next bar to have a drink.

Addison’s way seemed like the best option.

But she couldn’t move. Lily just sat, parked, and glazed as a donut.

“This isn’t worth the god-forsaken trouble, is it?” She asked aloud. Then she sat, parked, and still as a window. “Just scream. Scream. Lose your mind. Scream, scream, scream.” Eric had said that to her during their fight as they broke up. Like he was mad at her for talking about it rationally, for not throwing her hair dryer at him. It was a struggle to comprehend this sudden severance.

Lily didn’t scream then, and she didn’t scream now. She opened her middle console, where she had kept a small velvet bag…

           ***

           “Addison?” Lily shouted through her cellphone, which had finally been charged.

“Lily? Thank the Lord. I’ve been trying to reach you, where the hell have you been?”

“Sorry. Phone died. Charger broke. I got lost.”

“Are you okay?” It didn’t skate past Lily that her best friend’s voice was drenched in concern. Rightfully so. Lily blew it off. Her first tequila shot of the night broke down her sensitivity barrier.

“I gave up on going to the wedding. Mainly because I was going to be late. And if there’s anything worse than showing up at your ex-fiancé’s wedding, it’s show up at your ex-fiancé’s wedding late.”

“That’s the most rational thing you’ve said in two years.” Lily chuckled, but she still felt a bit like shit. “Where are you, then?”

“Turns out I was only a few miles outside of Reno when I abandoned hope. So I found a hotel here that doubles as a casino, and reserved their biggest suite for tonight.”

“Okay,” Addison spoke cautiously.

“Don’t say it like that. I needed a place to stay, because when my phone turned back on, the hotel in South Lake Tahoe called to say that there had been an issue with my reservation and there wasn’t a spot for me to stay after the wedding anyways.”

“Jesus Christ,” Addison mumbled. Lily just laughed. “How are you even paying for this place?”

“Oh, that’s easy. I sold my engagement ring from Eric at a pawn shop.”

“You did not.”

It was true, she had. Her cancelled reservation. The roads twisting and changing directions to steer Lily away from Tahoe. The low tire pressure light that came on when she entered Reno for the second time, likely indicating a flat tire.

She wasn’t meant to go to this thing. It was stupid, anyways.

***

The next morning, Lily nearly clawed her eyes out with the intrusion of the morning sun. Among the list of things she learned: casinos will bring you free drinks as long as you play their little games.

Sitting up, she was grateful to be alone in a massively large suite. A trip to the bathroom to empty the contents of her stomach just made her all the more grateful. Her phone was plugged in charging on the counter, and she yanked it off to call Addison.

Surprisingly, she had several voicemails, missed calls, and texts. Many from Addison, but there was one from Eric. Eric. Her stomach plummeted all the way down to the tips of her toes. Had she called her ex on his wedding day?

If there was anything worse than being late to your ex’s wedding, it was calling your ex on their wedding day. While drunk. Great…Okay.

She ignored the missed call from Eric, since it was on the very of activating her gag reflex, and swiped across Addison’s name. When her best friend answered, she had to stifle her dry heave.

“Worst night of my life,” she croaked. “Damn, my throat’s drier than sun-fried shit. Tastes worse, too.”

“Lillian. Dear, sweet Lillian. Fill me in.”

“Well, I succeeded in my mission.”

“Which was…?”

“Drink to forget. I cannot remember a single thing that happened last night. I woke up to three missed calls. Two from you, one from Eric.”

“Holy shit, your ex called you on his wedding day?! Jesus, I’m glad you didn’t go. It’s best case scenario to be the other woman from afar.”

Lily smacked her forehead and slumped her back against the toilet bowl, thanking the skies above that this place was so nice and not a 1-star hotel dingy floor and crusty porcelain throne. “That’s just it. I’m sure that I called him. I mean, I don’t remember calling Eric, but I must have if he called me.”

Addison urged her to check her call history to see the damage, a task that Lily was dreading. The bile rose in her throat as she anticipated the scrolling list of Eric’s name. There was one outgoing call to Eric, and two incoming. They weren’t longer than 10 seconds each, but she did have a voicemail from him, too, that was thirty seconds, from this morning.

“Oh God. I have a voicemail from this morning.”

“Holy shit.”

“Shit. Why would Eric have called me this morning?” Lily’s stomach twisted, and to make matters worse, her hotel room door closed. She hadn’t even heard it open.

“I called in case you noticed I was missing. I went out for coffee and bagels,” a male voice called out.

“Who is that?” Addison squeaked through the phone. Lily was paralyzed, crouched on the bathroom floor. She dropped the phone from her ear.

She didn’t think that was Eric’s voice…was it?

A man appeared in the doorway. A young, attractive man. He was holding a to-go bag, and didn’t seem phased to see her on the floor. When she jumped in alarm, he did too.

“I didn’t know if you’d remember. Sorry I scared you. For starters, nothing happened between us, I promise. If it jogs your memory, I’m Erik. You kept calling me ‘Eric-with-a-K’ last night. You said, ‘that’s just different enough!’”

“Erik with a K…” Lily trailed.

He laughed again, with sympathy and also embarrassment. “Sorry. I should leave you alone. You just kept saying that you missed the signs last night. I don’t even know you, but, um, I was kind of worried.” Erik scratched the back of his neck.

“Eric with a K,” Lily repeated out loud, chuckling.

Here she was, with another cute guy named Erik – a name she had sworn off for life. Maybe she really was going in circles.

“I’ll just leave the coffee and bagels, and go.” She hadn’t even noticed the brown bag in his hand.

“Stay. It’s fine. You went through the trouble.” When he hesitated, she rolled her eyes. “Really, it is. Thank you.”

They sat at the table in a bit of awkwardness. She was trying not to analyze him. He was different from Eric with a C. Not only in appearance – taller, stronger, darker – he had a humbleness about him, a soft confidence, even in this uncomfortable moment.

Could a simple K make all the difference in the world?

It sounded postively delusional. But when Erik unwrapped the bagels, and handed over her favorite – poppyseed – she thought that maybe. Just maybe…it wasn't.