Different Part Deux

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Of course it is. We’re saying the exact same thing, just in different ways.”

Sabrina scowled. “No. I’m saying we’re two different people, and you’re saying we’re just too different. It’s not the same.”

James laughed out loud, not because he thought it was funny, this Friday afternoon exchange with his girlfriend on a city sidewalk, but because it’s what he did when exasperated; he laughed. It was an annoying tick that got him in trouble on a few occasions, like this one. 

Botoxed brows straining to pinch, Sabrina let out an exasperated cry, “You’re laughing! You think this is funny?!” 

Shaking his head, James denied any intentional humor. “No, no. Sorry. You know, it’s just what I do when I get, you know, frustrated.”

With a foot stomp and snort, Sabrina stopped short. “That doesn’t make it OK. And nice knowing that right now I’m so frustrating to you I trigger inappropriate responses.”

Reaching out, James tried to touch her shoulder. “Please, Brie, it’s not you; it’s me.”

Sabrina backed away from James, forcing passersby to walk a wider path around them. Lashes fluttering, hands in prayer pose, Sabrina mimicked James’s voice, “Oh, gullible Brie, it’s me! I’m the poo, not you! I want a girl whose cookie-cutter, just like my mutter!”

It was James's turn to scowl; the sharp crimp of his face an elbow to Sabrina’s heart. Peddling back, she stepped forward. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that-”

“And that’s what I’m talking about.” James stood his ground, arms crossed. “I would never say anything like that. So, see? We’re too different. I’m the mature guy, and you’re the mean girl.” 

With a quick costume change, Sabrina went from apologetic to dramatically appalled.

“What?! Wow! So, one act of sarcasm and suddenly I’m Regina George, but you get a hall pass because you can’t handle your responses? Now that’s funny! Or is it frustrating? I’m so confused!” Giggling, Sabrina covered her mouth, snickers growing intentionally louder. It was a stupid and childish response, Sabrina knew, but knowing and doing are two different things. Much like two different people who are now apparently too different to be together long-term. Grrr. Sabrina loved James almost as much as she hated his overthinking. 

James was not taking the bait, so Sabrina dropped her fake laugh, holding his stare. Their bodies were close enough to feel the heat of mutual irritation and attraction. The heart-pounding thrill reminded Sabrina of when she was once face-to-face with a zoo tiger. The laminated glass sandwiched between them was the only thing that allowed her heart to beat wild with excitement and not freeze up with fear. James wasn’t the tiger; he was the safety glass. Single life in the city was the real beast, and Sabrina was pretty content with her view of the jungle from a guarded distance. But that didn’t mean she was willing to trade age for a golden cage. 

Restrained by Sabrina’s gaze, James yearned to squirm. The growing bustle of pedestrian traffic brought a rush of anxiety, sweat beading along his brow, breaths growing noticeably deeper along with the need for space to take them. James tried not to show panic, it embarrassed him, but Sabrina recognized the cues. Feeling confined in the growing crowd herself, she grabbed James’s hand and led him to the nearest, least-packed bar, which took a few blocks to find. Pulling him inside, she slid into an empty booth where they sat across from eachother. 

“James, what is with you?!” 

Chin down, hands together, fingers folded, James sighed. “Why do we need to talk about it? You know. I just can’t get passed this crazy fear of us not becoming my parents.”

Sitting back with a hard huff, Sabrina couldn’t hide her annoyance. “Oh. My. God.” 

The subject of their future had come up multiple times in the past few months. But it was after their most recent visit to his parent’s Connecticut home that James became especially fixated. Rather than talk about it directly, James had taken to wringing his hands and pacing the galley kitchen of his and Sabrina’s tiny apartment, shrinking smaller to make room for his woes. 

James shrugged his shoulders and sat back. The black of his jacket blended with the booth’s leather making his head appear to float. If Sabrina weren’t so distracted by the ridiculousness of James right now, she’d laugh, for real. He didn’t notice her momentary ponder, focused only on turning his thoughts into words Sabrina might understand. “I’m just being honest, Brie. If we’re just two different people, like you say, you could accept my aging the same way I accept all your anti-aging. You want to look ten years younger; I want to think thirty years older. My parents are the perfect couple because they like all the same things, and that’s what I want for us. What if we’re not more the same by the time we get to their age? What then?”

Face in hands, Sabrina groaned loudly. The approaching server turned around, deciding to break protocol and start with the smiling couple who came in just after Sabrina and James. 

Exhaling loudly, Sabrina sat straight and stiffly, gripping the seat's edge. 

“James, we’ve been over this how many times? Even your mom’s noticing. She doesn’t want a duplicate of herself, she wants grandchildren, and if you don’t start acting your age, that’s never gonna happen.” Sabrina leaned forward and whispered, “Have you not noticed how big your bald spot is? The stress of wanting to be like your parents is making you bald, Jammy! Bald!” 

Gesturing widely, Sabrina asked, “Is it really worth your hair and our relationship?! You realize your future dating pool has shrunk by at least seventy-five percent, so you might want to consider that in your possible scenarios. Not to mention you don’t even own a house yet.”

James questioned all of it, running a hand over his thinning hair out of habit, not vanity. “How is a candid conversation the same as breaking up? And what’s wrong with balding? And who needs a house in the city?” 

Waving the server over, Sabrina agreed with James’s third point, leading into hers. “Exactly! Because the goal of city living in our thirties is not to be like our suburban parents in their sixties, right? I’m not ready for matching leisurewear, low-sodium ham, and full Saturdays hosing out the recycling containers.” 

Softening her tone, Sabrina reached for James. A genuine smile tugged at the corners of his eyes; crow's feet offered a partial map of the summers he spent on Long Island Sound beaches. James willingly took Sabrina’s soft hand as she continued, “We’re only thirty, for Christ’s sake. You’re my jam; I want a future with you, James, but not if it means I can’t act my age today.” 

Their server, Katie, noticeably relieved to see the turn of conversation, took their order; a gin martini, Manhattan with an extra cherry and house truffle fries. As Katie walked away, Sabrina told James about her therapy referral from his mom. Sabrina’s show of repose at the table’s mood shift wasn’t written as plainly on her face as on Katie’s, but James saw it and was glad. He didn’t want to lose Brie, who he jokingly said brought out his cheesy side. She was right; his worry and fret would only bring regrets. James was ready to listen to her.

“This guy’s more life coach type, but he treated your mom’s friend’s cousin’s son and came highly recommended. Apparently, demand for his services went up after he found commercial success treating first-time homeowners. Now that fewer people can afford that status, he branched out to include pre-first-time homeowners or, as he calls them, age-accelerants. He’s all about addressing the mind climate crisis that’s making us all go mad. He calls the pressures of today the polluting petrol fueling outdated thinking. And, no, botox isn’t part of his new aging appropriately campaign if that makes you feel any better.” 

James chuckled and showed surrender. “Ok, you win, Brie. I’ll call him.”

With an air kiss, Sabrina promised, “Don’t worry, Jammy. We’ll be old and dressed in matching clothes before you know it. So how ‘bout tomorrow we return all the couch pillows and use the money toward something fun while we’re actually still young?”