The Great Unknown

****This is a work of fiction*****

I walked out of my kitchen holding two mugs of hot chocolate, the good kind with the tiny marshmellows, and spotted Caleb on the couch staring out the window. I studied his features: olive complexion, strong jaw line, wavy dark hair just shy of needing another trim, glasses perched up on his square nose, hazel eyes, and that large muscular frame from years of working in construction. Hard to believe he had no clue just how good looking he was despite the constant glares he got from women everywhere he went. A late bloomer his friends called him, didn't grow into himself until he was almost twenty years old and now ten years later still identified more with who he was then who he is.

He looked over at me as his face broke into a boyish grin, "Mmmmm, hot chocolate always makes me feel like a little kid. Thank you."

I plopped down across from him on the opposite end of the couch. A girl with a constant fat complex felt so tiny next to this big hulking man; after all I'm only 5'2''. "It really feels like winter now. Christmas decorations are up, I have to pre-heat my car each morning, and I sleep in layers of clothing."

"Lila you should come spend the holidays with my family. We do this thing every year with a Secret Santa exchange, a huge feast my mom and aunts make, playing board games by the fireplace, and then we wrap things up with some classic holiday movies until everyone passes out. No one should be alone on Christmas, not even a stubborn brat like you." He playfully hits my leg.

"Stubborn brat?"

He shrugs, "Yeah, well you still won't go out with me."


How can I explain this? Caleb is amazing in pretty much every possible way. We met about three months ago at a bowling event I found on this internet social site. It was my lame attempt to make some more local friends and revamp my social life. Now there are two sides to Lila: social butterfly or social retard. The trick is I never know which side will come out until I'm knee deep in the actual situation. Well that day I was the social retard. Of course I was one of the first to arrive and after I signed in I just sat there awkwardly awaiting others.

Caleb was the second to arrive. It was easy to spot that he was a first timer as well with the deer in headlights look as if he had never seen the inside of a bowling alley before. He signed in and the tween behind the desk pointed to me, "She's part of that group too." He chose a chair a few seats away from me. After a couple of minutes, with a slight stutter and avoiding eye contact he asked me, "Do you bowl?"

Um, why the hell would I be here if I didn't? Now Lila this is to make new friends, best to tame the inner sarcastic bitch for now. I turned towards him, "Yes, but not well. I specialize in guttering. Do you think they'll give us bumpers? It really helps my self esteem." He laughed, then introduced himself. Ladies and gentleman a friendship was born.


Obviously we facebooked eachother cause that's what all the kids do these days. Facebook led to texting and texting led to phone calls and phone calls led to some face to face hangouts. We started our own two person book club, friday night movie get-to-gethers either in the theatre if something good we both wanted to see was out or at my house for a DVD (I'll explain why we couldn't do it at his place later on), and then there were the game nights his friends hosted bi-weekly that I became a part of. He had the same close group of friends since childhood, an eclectic group that all still lived locally. That bowling thing we met at was his attempt to branch out.

We had so much in common. One key thing was how close we were to our families especially our parents. His family lived about twenty minutes from him while mine was in another part of the country; hence the Christmas invite. We could talk for hours about nothing in particular until our voices got sore or it was too late on a work night. Something tragic we had in common was that we had both had had our hearts broken. His was a first love in his early twenties, mine was a marriage gone wrong. And then there were the little things: animal lovers, sarcastic dry sense of humor, taste in movies, neat/clean freaks, believed cheese is the ultimate food and enhances all other foods, and very physically affectionate with our friends and family.

He was smart, trustworthy, easy to talk to, loyal, caring, and there was the house thing. Caleb never wanted to hang out at his house which seemed kind of eery to me. After about two months of hanging out he told me he had a surprise for me. He texted me an address to meet him at after work on an idle Tuesday. As I pulled up to this beautiful old colonial I wondered if this was how those dumb white girls got killed in those horror movies. I was big chested, but was most definitely NOT a virgin so it could really go either way.

Caleb came out the front door with that boyish grin and waved me inside. This was his house, not a home as he explained because it had no personal touches. There was no furniture unless you count a mattress on the floor in the living room and a small desk for his laptop. It was beautiful though, completely renovated as far as I could tell. Original wood floors rebuffed, brand new appliances in the kitchen, thermal double paned windows, new siding, zoned-central heating system, upgraded insulation, original columns, crowned molding...but no furniture. When I teased him about this he explained he was waiting for his future wife to help him turn the house into a home. Please locate a mop to clean up the puddle I turned into after he told me that.

He was essentially everything I could want in a man. If I was to be completely honest here, I know you expect nothing less from me, I was falling in love with him. And I know this is going to sound like a lame break-up line, but it was me and not him.


Okay, back to the present. Hot guy on my couch. "Caleb, you know I think you're wonderful..."

"But?"

"But I don't want to ruin what we have."

There was more to it than that, but I wasn't willing to tell him that. Over the course of our friendship I had opened up to him bit by bit at the pace of an injured slug about my past, some not all obviously, and this was new to me. My usual MO was to jump right in, leap first and look later. And that was what always got me into trouble. The complete truth that I'm willing to tell you and not him is that I was afraid; afraid of the unknown. What if he eventualy found out about some ugly bit about me and no longer want to be with me? What if I let go and give this thing a chance, but he falls out of love with me like my ex-husband did? What if we have no sexual chemistry and then things become really awkward?


But what if being with him becomes the greatest experience of my life?