According to Amy, Brigitte’s life wasn’t exciting, but she liked everything about it, and it worked well for her. She didn’t need or want excitement in her life, and looking far ahead to the future, she could see where it was going. Her life had direction and forward motion, even if not with great speed. Just like her studies for her Ph.D., and her book. That was enough for her. It was a journey. She was in no hurry to reach her destination or make any snap decisions. Despite her mother’s and Amy’s cynicism, concerns, and dire warnings, Brigitte wasn’t worried about it all.

“So whose life are you ruining today?” Amy asked her with an impish grin as she bounced into the doorway of Brigitte’s office.

“That’s a terrible thing to say!” Brigitte said, pretending to look stern. “On the contrary, I’m checking to make sure the applicants sent us all the right stuff.”

“Yeah, so you can turn them down. Poor kids, I still remember getting those awful letters. ‘Although we were very impressed by the work you’ve done during your senior year, we can’t figure out what the hell you were doing all through junior year. Were you drunk or on drugs or just lazy beyond belief? We wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors, but not at our school …’ Shit, I cried every time I got one of those letters, and so did my mother. She figured I’d wind up working at McDonald’s, not a bad job, but she wanted me to be a doctor. It took her years to forgive me for being ‘just’ a social worker.” Amy’s grades for junior year couldn’t have been that bad, Brigitte knew, since she had gone to Brown, and eventually got a master’s of science degree at Stanford before getting her social worker’s degree at the Columbia School of Social Work in New York.

They were all academic snobs at BU. In the academic world, where you got your degrees really mattered, just as how often you published did later. If Brigitte had been teaching at BU, she couldn’t have lingered over her book for the past seven years without publishing it sooner. There would have been a lot more pressure on her, which was why she was happier working in the admissions office. She didn’t have the competitive spirit you needed to survive as a professor. Amy taught an undergraduate psych class and ran the counseling office, and did both well. She left her kids at the campus day care center while she worked. And she had a profound love for young people generally, and her students. She set up the first suicide hotline at BU after losing too many students in her early years of counseling. It was a common occurrence at all universities, and an epidemic that worried them all. Brigitte didn’t like the implication that by turning down applicants to BU she was ruining their lives. She hated to think of it that way. As usual, Amy’s opinions went right to the heart of the matter, and were bluntly expressed. She didn’t mince words, whereas Brigitte was always more careful and more diplomatic about what she said, and how she said it. Amy used a more frontal and confrontational approach, with colleagues or friends.

“So what are you doing tonight?” Amy asked her pointedly, curling up in the chair on the other side of Brigitte’s desk.

“Tonight? Why? Is it something special?” Brigitte looked blank, and Amy rolled her eyes.

“It should be, if you’ve been dating a guy for six years. You’re hopeless. It’s Valentine’s Day, for chrissake! You know, hearts, flowers, candy, engagement rings, marriage proposals, great sex, soft music, candlelight. Aren’t you going out with Ted?” She looked disappointed for Brigitte. Despite her own failed relationships, Amy still loved the notion of romance, and although they were adorable together, she always felt that Brigitte and Ted had far too little of it. They were still like high school kids dating, not like people in their thirties planning their future. And Amy worried about her friend, fearing that the important things in life were sliding past her. Like commitment, marriage, and having kids.

“I think we both forgot,” Brigitte admitted sheepishly about Valentine’s Day. “Ted’s working on a paper, and I’ve been buried in applications. We only have six weeks left to process them. And I have two papers due for my class. Besides, it’s snowing, and a crappy night to go out.”

“So stay home and celebrate it in bed. Maybe he’ll propose to you tonight,” Amy said hopefully, and Brigitte laughed out loud.

“Yeah, right, with a paper due on Friday. He’ll probably call me later and we’ll figure out something. Chinese takeout or sushi. It’s not a big deal.”

“It should be,” Amy scolded her. “I don’t want you to be an old maid like me.”

“I’m not, and neither are you. We’re unmarried women. That’s a highly respected category these days. It’s considered a choice, not an affliction, and people who are older than we are still get married and have kids.”

“Yeah, Sarah in the Bible maybe. How old was she? Ninety-seven, I think, when she had a kid. Generally, these days, that’s considered a little beyond the usual statistics. I think it was then too. And she was married.” Amy looked meaningfully at her friend, and Brigitte laughed.

“You’re obsessed, for me anyway. You’re not running around crazily trying to get married. Why should I? Besides, Ted and I are perfectly happy the way we are. No one rushes to get married anymore. Why is it such a big deal?” Brigitte looked unconcerned.

“After six years, it would hardly be considered rushing. It would be more like normal. And in about ten minutes you’ll be forty-five or fifty, and it’ll be all over for you. Your eggs will be prehistoric, and he can write an archaeology paper about them.” She was being funny, but she meant it. “Maybe you should propose to him.”

“Don’t be silly. We have lots of time to think about all that. Besides, I want to finish my book first, and my Ph.D. I want to be a doctor when I get married.”

“Then hurry up. You two are the slowest people on the planet. You think you’re going to be young forever. Well, I’ve got bad news for you. Your body knows better. You need to at least think about getting married and having kids.”

“I will, in a few years. What are you doing tonight, by the way?” She knew Amy hadn’t even had a date since she got pregnant with her first child four years before. She was totally involved with them and had had almost no social life since. She was too busy working and having fun with her boys. She wanted Brigitte to experience that kind of fulfillment and happiness too. And Ted would make a great father, they both agreed. His students adored him. He was warm, kind, and smart, everything a woman could want in a man, which was why Brigitte loved him, and so did everyone else. He was a totally nice guy.

“I have a hot date with my sons,” Amy confessed. “We’re going to have pizza for dinner, and they’ll be sound asleep by seven o’clock, so I can watch TV and pass out by ten. Not exactly the perfect Valentine’s Day, but it works for me.” Amy smiled happily as she stood up. She had an appointment in her office with a student who’d been referred by his freshman adviser. He was a foreign student, away from home for the first time, and seriously depressed. Amy suspected she would be referring him to the student health office for meds from what the adviser had said. But Amy wanted to talk to the boy first. She saw kids like him all day and was diligent about her work, just as Brigitte was about hers.

“That sounds like a good plan,” Brigitte commented. “I’ll figure out something with Ted later, and remind him if he forgot. Maybe he just assumed we’d have dinner together.” He did that sometimes, they both did, what they shared was a relationship that worked without any need for definition. After six years, she assumed they would be together forever. They had no reason not to be. It didn’t need to be said or written in stone. They were both happy the way things were, no matter what Amy said, or Brigitte’s mother. This worked for them. Comfortable was the word that defined what they shared, even if Amy thought they needed more romance or passion. Brigitte didn’t, and neither did Ted. They were both laid-back people who had no need to make plans set in stone for the future, or spell everything out.

By sheer coincidence, Ted called her ten minutes after Amy left Brigitte’s office. He sounded harried and in a rush and slightly breathless, which was unusual for him. He was an easygoing guy who rarely got rattled.

“Are you okay?” Brigitte asked him, sounding worried. “Something wrong?”

“No, just a little crazy. There’s a lot going on here today. Can I see you for dinner?” When he said it that way, he meant at home. He wanted to stop by her place after work. Brigitte knew the shorthand of their conversations, and what Ted meant.

“Of course.” She smiled in response to his dinner suggestion. He had remembered. “Amy just reminded me that it’s Valentine’s Day. I had totally forgotten.”

“Oh shit, so did I. I’m sorry, Brig. Do you want to go out?”

“Whatever you want. I’m just as happy staying home, especially in this weather.” The snowfall had increased, and now there was a foot of snow on the ground. Driving wouldn’t be easy.

“There’s something I want to celebrate with you tonight. How about an early dinner at Luigi’s? You can stay at my place tonight if you want.” It was an offer he rarely made during the week, nor did she. They both liked getting an early start to their day in their own familiar settings. They usually only spent weekend nights together.

“What are we celebrating?” Brigitte asked, slightly mystified. She could hear the excitement in his voice, although he was trying to sound calmer than he felt, but she could sense that too.

“I’m not going to spoil the surprise. I want to say it in person. We’ll talk about it over dinner.”

“You got a promotion in the department?” She couldn’t stand the suspense, and he laughed in answer, and sounded like a man with a secret, or a plan. This was all very unlike him, and it made Brigitte a little nervous. What if Amy was right, and he was going to use Valentine’s Day to propose? Suddenly her heart and mind were racing, and she was scared.

“It’s much more important than that. Do you mind taking a cab? I’ll meet you at Luigi’s. I know that’s not a very romantic way to start Valentine’s Day, but I’m going to be stuck in the office till dinner.” He sounded apologetic.

“That’s fine. I’ll meet you there,” she said with a quaver in her voice.

“I love you, Brig,” he breathed into the phone before he hung up, and she looked stunned. He rarely said that, except in bed, and suddenly she wondered if Amy’s wishes for her were coming true. Thinking about it, she felt panicked. She wasn’t at all sure she was ready for a proposal. She was almost sure she wasn’t, but it sounded like a distinct possibility to her, and half an hour later she wandered down to Amy’s office with a worried look. She stood in the doorway and glared at her friend. Amy’s meeting with the homesick freshman had just ended, and she had referred him to see a psychiatrist for meds.

“I think you jinxed me,” Brigitte said with a look of angst as she walked into Amy’s office and sat down.

“About what?” Amy looked confused.

“Ted just called and invited me to dinner. He said he has a surprise, bigger than a promotion, and he sounded as nervous as I feel now. Omigod, I think he’s going to propose. I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Hallelujah, it’s about goddamn time! At least one of you is making some sense here. Listen, six years of practically living together is long enough. You two get along better than any of the married couples I know. This will be great!”

“We don’t live together,” Brigitte corrected her. “We spend weekends together.”

“And how long do you want to do that? Another six years maybe? Ten? If Ted is planning to propose, he has the right idea. Life is short. You can’t spend it in a holding pattern forever.”

“Why not? It works for us.”

“Maybe not. It sounds like he wants more, and he should. So should you.”

“I do. I just don’t know if I want it right now. Why rock the boat? ‘Don’t fix what ain’t broke,’ as the saying goes. Our arrangement is perfect as it is.”

“It’ll be more perfect if you make a real commitment to each other. You can build something, a life, a family. You can’t pretend to be students forever. That’s what too many people in the academic world do. We all delude ourselves that we’re kids too, and we’re not. One day you wake up and realize that you’re old, and life passed you by. Don’t let that happen to you. You both deserve better than that. It may sound scary to you now, but it’ll be great. Trust me. You need to take the next step.” Amy had always thought that Brigitte should do that with her work too. She thought Brigitte should be head of admissions, and could have been, but she didn’t want that. She was content to be number three—she said it gave her more time to work on her book and degree and do more research.