Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Next Year I'll be Perfect
Filled with harsh reality, humor, and romance, Next Year I’ll Be Perfect explores what true happiness and success is all about.
The drive back to my house was not the silent trip to the restaurant we’d experienced a few hours earlier with each of us sitting rigidly in our own space. During the return trip, we wrestled with the demands placed on adult children in the modern family structure, all the while my hand was held gently in Morgan’s, rested on the side of the passenger seat.
Even I had to admit that this date was kicking ass.
My euphoria lasted approximately another twelve seconds before we were parked in front of the diner and I was back in panic mode. It had been a very long time since I’d been on a first date with a man – and much longer still with a man I really liked. I was no longer clear about the direction the rest of the evening should take.
Namely, should I invite Morgan up to my apartment? What would that mean? What would he think it meant? I considered every exponential possibility of asking the man beside me upstairs, and as I did so, I also watched the hopeful light in Morgan’s eyes dim.
Had I missed my window of opportunity?
Did Morgan assume I didn’t want to continue our date in a more intimate setting, while the truth was that it was exactly what I wanted? I dithered around in my head trying to figure out what Morgan would read into such an invitation and whether it was too early to go there.
I was twenty-nine years old and no blushing virgin. Remembering David’s words from earlier in the evening, I decided to be the strong, independent, decisive woman Morgan had originally pursued.
“So, Morgan,” I leaned in and asked. “Are you interested in a relationship?”
He leaned back, startled and made a gurgling sound in his throat that could have been interpreted as, “Huh?
“Are you interested in a relationship?” I repeated. “With me. Do you want me to be your girlfriend?”
I saw and felt Morgan go from mildly disappointed at not receiving an invitation upstairs, to a man in the throes of blind panic. I put my hand lightly on his shoulder and his entire body went rigid at my touch.
And not in the good way.
David’s advice was abruptly pushed out of my head and instead I heard Livvie’s voice screaming, “Abort! Abort! Abort!”
Next Year I’ll be Perfect is Laura Kilmartin’s first novel. She previously published four essays in Write for the Fight: A Collection of Seasonal Essays. All author royalties from that collection have been donated to breast cancer charities.
Laura is an attorney who lives and works in her native Southern Maine. A pop culture savant, she loves to read, write, travel and collect DVDs of cancelled TV shows in her spare time. Please visit Laura’s blog at http://laurakilmartin.com or follow her (@LauraCKilmartin) on Twitter.
Buy the Book!
Amazon paperback http://www.amazon.com/Next-Year-Ill-Be-Perfect/dp/1935961721/ref=tmm_pap_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1349039443&sr=1-1
Amazon kindle http://www.amazon.com/Next-Year-Ill-Perfect-ebook/dp/B009H695TA/ref=tmm_kin_title_0?ie=UTF8&qid=1349039443&sr=1-1
Barnes and Noble http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/next-year-ill-be-perfect-laura-kilmartin/1113018760?ean=9781935961727