Animate Me

“Okay, I’ll try them on for you, Brooke.”

When I tentatively step out of the dressing room I can tell by their expressions that they’re pleased. I’m not sure about the fancy looking shirt with colorful stripes and this freaky print with weird little shapes lining the collar and cuffs.

“Why are there amoebas on this fabric?” I ask, showing her the cuffs. “It looks like something under a microscope.”

“Those are paisleys.” She laughs. “You weren’t joking about not being into fashion.”

“You can say that again,” I say to Brooke. At least she looks pleased…actually, really pleased. Her expression makes me think she’d like to join me in the dressing room for some fun. Well?” I ask holding out my arms. “Is this what you had in mind?”

Ransom lifts his hand and makes a motion. “Turn,” he says. As I pivot and am halfway around, he stops me and lifts up the bottom of my shirt. “Perfect fit,” he concludes.

I’m guessing my butt looks great.

“Yes,” Brooke agrees with a heavy sigh. “You look so handsome, Nathan. None of the girls will be able to resist you tonight.”

Great, the girls won’t be able to resist me. What about you Brooke?

My nerves are completely frayed. I have no idea what’s really going on.

“Okay, we’re done.” I say to Ransom. “I’ll take them.”

He nods briskly as I head back to the dressing room. I don’t even care at this point what this will cost me, I just need to get out of here and away from Fred’s shrine to fashion. If Brooke keeps admiring me I’m going to pull her into the dressing room so we can make out, and send all the over-priced jeans hanging around us tumbling to the floor.

Luckily Brooke’s shopping seems less traumatic for her than my experience. She refuses to let me see what she tries on, so her personal shopper, Noelle, sends me to the gift boutique where they have an eclectic selection of art and design books to occupy me. But as I notice her enter the gift shop to find me, it’s evident that she wasn’t in the dressing room too long before she picked something out. Nothing better than a decisive woman, I think to myself.

“Can I buy you lunch?” She asks coming up alongside me as I flip through a book about deviant art.

I turn and smile at her, relieved that the earlier heaviness has lifted. I put the book back on the shelf and linking her arm through mine, she pulls me to the café in the next area. We set our bags alongside the table, open the menus, and get situated. As soon as we’re settled, I turn towards her.

“Can I hold your hand?” I say.

She smiles softly at me, and I feel her hand graze my thigh under the table until it finds mine. Her fingers curl into my hand and I gently rub my thumb across her soft skin. I feel instantly calmer, happier.

The waiter comes up and I’m grateful to be able to order a burger, even if it is infused with pesto. Brooke orders one of those girly salads and despite the distraction, doesn’t let go of my grasp. I study her face and the way her lips turn up when I gently squeeze her hand.

“Brooke, can I ask you something?”

She nods at me, wide eyed.

“Is it really important to you how I dress?” I point at the bag with my purchases. “‘Cause no matter what I wear, it’s still me inside. You know I don’t care about clothes and stuff like that.”

She looks surprised by my declaration. “I’m not trying to change you, if that’s what you think,” she replies. “You just never seem to understand how attractive you are. I thought maybe wearing something special tonight would make you feel good. You were so confident at the Emmys in your tux.”

“Screw the clothes. What makes me feel good is when you look at me the way you did that night, and just now when I stepped out of the dressing room.”

She tips her head, considering what I’ve said and a look of worry shadows her expression. “I should be more careful. It’s just hard for me to hide my attraction to you.”

“But I liked the way you looked at me, it made me feel wanted…it felt good,” I argue.

“But I was going to start controlling myself. Until I get my situation straightened out, my attraction to you and our physical relationship just confuses everything.” She gently eases her hand out of mine and places it on the table, then fiddles nervously with the silverware.

I feel frustration fire up in me. I know this is Arnold’s influence. “But I don’t want you to stop being with me.”

She looks down nervously and takes a sip of water as I persist with my point.

“Remember when our friendship got off track and you wanted to stop touching me before? I couldn’t stand not seeing and being close to you and you missed me too…didn’t you?”

She nods solemnly.

“Well, that just didn’t work, and it won’t now either,” I insist.

I can’t resist asking the obvious. The timing of her new reticence about us immediately followed her getaway trip. “Is all of this because of Arnold? Did he say something to you while you were in Santa Barbara?”

“Yes,” she admits, her expression getting very dark.

“And…”

“Nathan, listen to me. I’m trying to work some things out and you can’t be in the middle of it. But meanwhile you need to stay as far away from Arnauld as possible. Promise me.”

“I wish you’d tell me everything and let me help you. I’m not afraid of him.”

“Well, you should be.”

“What’s he holding over you Brooke because frankly I don’t understand why you’re with him at all? What aren’t you telling me? Did you even want to go to Santa Barbara?”

“No, and I should’ve refused. We ended up arguing most of the time.”

“So it wasn’t romantic?”

“Hardly,” she huffs.

“You know Nathan, the honest truth is that since we’ve met, all I’ve done is distract you and pull you into my mess with Arnauld. Here things were moving along with you and Dani and suddenly I’m the one you’re spending time with, opening up sexually with. I’m comfortable for you, an older woman involved with another guy, showing you the ropes. But I’m not the type of girl you really want, the kind of girl who’d be good for you.”

I’m stuck on the idea that she thinks she’s just a distraction. I look at her bewildered.

“And as this progresses, I’m doing things without thinking of the ramifications for both of us. Ever since we made love, all I can do is think about when we will do it again. I swear, I wanted to follow you into that dressing room earlier. For goodness sake, I was thinking about you the entire time I was in Santa Barbara.”

I can’t even feel the thrill of her declaration because of the question lingering in my mind. “Did you tell Arnold that we slept together?”

“No, I just couldn’t. Honestly, the way things were going, I was afraid to.”

I look down, twisting the napkin in my lap. Everything is so simple to me; I love Brooke and she should be with me. But as everyone in my life points out, I need to not pressure her, because for Brooke, this is very complicated.

“Arnauld has also accused me of losing my edge at work. I really need to get my shit together.”

She looks stressed and it makes my heart heavy. I want to hold her and make it all go away, but I fear it will only make things worse.

“Can I ask you one thing, Brooke?” I say.

She nods, her eyes sad.

“Why are you so sure you’re not the right kind of girl for me? You’ve got to understand how much I care about you.”

“Because I know you Nathan, you want a girl, one special girl to split that little foil packet of Pop Tarts with. You want a nice, sweet girl who will always be by your side—a solid relationship like your parents have…a marriage and kids, who hopefully like cartoons more than soccer.”

“Am I that transparent?” I ask.

“You’re wonderfully transparent and so sincere. It’s one of the things I love most about you.” She smiles tenderly. “But you have to know, I’ve never been that kind of girl. I’ve never had a good relationship, and I’m not sure I’d even know how. Also, I’m so into my career I’d probably make a terrible mother, and besides, I’m selfish.”