The weekend before Thanksgiving, Dom picks me up for a dinner date. It’s the first time we’ve gone out to a restaurant in Salem, and it feels like we’re officializing our relationship. Christening our hometown, so to speak.
Loki is sitting on the windowsill, watching us with a malicious expression while snapping his tail here and there. Holding the passenger door, I wiggle my finger at my cat. “Be good to Auntie Nora, and don’t you dare pee in my new boots.”
He huffs and gives me his back.
“They grow up so fast,” Dom sighs from inside the car.
I slide into the passenger seat and kiss him on the lips. He looks amazing. Freshly shaven and sporting a new haircut. There’s a duffel bag strewn in his back seat, which I recognize not to be the same one he takes to the gym every day.
“Are the Feds after you? Are we fleeing?” I arch an eyebrow.
“Yup. Axe-murdering operation gone wrong. It’s a whole mess.” He leans in to give me a deeper, more passionate kiss. It lasts for a while, so I’ve almost forgotten what we were talking about when he continues, “I got you a fake passport too. Run with me to Argentina? I hear their dulce de leche is crazy good.”
I smooth the collar of his shirt. “No, really. Where are you going?”
We are still parked in front of my dilapidated excuse for an apartment. Dom glances toward my front door, and I see that it is half-open. Weird. I remember locking it behind me.
“What’s going on?” I turn to him.
His face pinks. Uh-huh. I don’t like secrets. Don’t like them one bit.
“About our dinner plans . . .” He rubs at the back of his neck. “How would you feel if we extend the evening, to, say . . .”
“The night?” I help him out. A sleepover would be nice. Warranted, even. We’ve been dating for a long time now.
“More like the entire weekend.”
“You want to take me on a weekend?” I echo.
“Very much,” Dom admits with a shy smile. “Very, very much.”
My front door opens all the way, and Nora skips toward Dom’s car, holding my suitcase. She packed for me. I don’t know what’s more disturbing. The fact that she did that without telling me, or the idea that she and Dom have apparently been talking to each other. They’ve met a couple of times, when he arrived to pick me up for our dates, and hit it off really well. I hadn’t realized they’d exchanged numbers, though.
Nora swings the back door of Dom’s car open and stuffs my small suitcase into it. She shoves half her body into the car through my window and smacks my cheek with a loud kiss. “Here you go, kiddos. Enjoy the Cape!”
Dom is doing the international nope-nope-nope sign with his hand to his neck.
Nora slaps a hand over her mouth. “I just ruined your surprise, haven’t I?”
“In a spectacular fashion.” Dom hangs his head, shaking it. He is so adorable my breath catches.
“You perfect asshole!” I grab his cheeks and pull him to me, kissing him frantically. I’m overwhelmed by his consideration. “That’s so thoughtful.”
“Not bad for an axe murderer, huh?” He winks at me. This joke never gets old. I imagine us bantering about it two, three, four years from now. And that’s good. It means that I see Dom in my future.
“Not at all.” I grin.
“So if I’m ever in need of help to get rid of a body . . .” Dom trails off.
“I’m your girl. Just a phone call away. No questions asked.”
He leans to kiss me again before revving up the engine. I turn my head to the window and spear my roommate with a look. “You. Nice work. I didn’t suspect a thing.”
“Save your thank-yous for when you open your suitcase.” Nora laughs as she skips back to our apartment.
What’s in the suitcase? Now I’m curious.
Dom and I hit the road. He tells me he’s made a playlist for the drive. He hooks his USB into his stereo and plays Nickelback and Dave Matthews Band throwbacks. It’s not my jam, but I don’t tell him that, since he’s made such an effort to surprise me with this romantic weekend. Throughout the drive, our hands are rested on the center console, our fingers laced together. Sometimes he sings the lyrics to the songs. Sometimes we talk about his work or mine, or how awesome Nora is for going along with his plan. Apparently, he slid into her DMs on Instagram a week ago and asked for her help.
I’ve never been out on the Cape. I’ve never been anywhere. Actually, I hadn’t been anywhere. Dominic is changing that, quickly. This couple-retreat experience feels so mature. Especially when, two and a half hours later, he pulls up at a charming bed-and-breakfast. It’s a white Cape Cod colonial with black shingles and overflowing flowerpots. It is beautifully restored and offers an outdoor restaurant in a gazebo overlooking the ocean. I grab Dom’s hand and squeeze.