by SJ Cavaletti
But relationships do not operate independently of the rest of the world. They are contained in it, much like a ship upon an ocean. The contents of the boat are constant, but waves and storms can easily shift them around. It seemed as though Carlos and I already had groundswell to face: I would most certainly be viewed as a gold digger among some of his peers. My sister would view him as she did our Father. How would our friends mingle? I’d probably end up ditching mine. Would I continue to work? Get a different job and then lose the freedom to be available at his whim?
These thoughts reeled as I gazed at the San Francisco skyline. Look at Marin, Ana. Peaceful, Marin. In the hills I saw things differently. In Carlos’ arms I felt like myself; safe in being that person and connected to another human being in a way that was very honest. Every relationship must have its challenges? Surely? Maybe our ship would shift in the surf but with so much in common personality wise, surely we could hold on tight?
Alcatraz to the East. It made me consider other nuances. What was stopping me from making love to this man I adored? It didn’t feel we were suppressing anything. It was strangely natural not to have sex… was it him not making a move or was it me? Why could I not just cross the line? I once had a fuck buddy so I certainly wasn’t prude. Maybe doing so would be the thing that would make me realize where the relationship stood? Maybe I did have a Daddy complex and just wanted a father figure?
Conclusions and answers did not seem to be coming. Only questions and more questions. Maybe that was because I did not possess all the data. It was time to call Carlos. So, I walked on along the bridge and decided to hike until I found a quiet spot in the hills. My feet ached in my unsupportive Chelsea boots. I’d definitely need to get a cab home or figure out a bus. Walking therapy had its side effects.
When I finally settled onto a patch of grass it was nearly lunchtime. My tummy rumbled and I felt less than prepared to have a conversation with Carlos but it needed to happen. Life was so off track. I knew that my mind could not handle being on this crooked path. It felt like total chaos. It was so hard to believe that people live like this, prevaricating over whether or not to commit for years. I wasn’t built like that.
I pulled out my cell from my handbag and there were loads of texts as usual from my lovely man. He missed me, couldn’t wait to go on holiday… wondered what I was up to. I dialed his number and he picked up before it even rang.
“That is so strange,” he said, “I was just about to call you.”
“Great minds think alike,” I said.
“Indeed they do,” he replied, “So now that I have you, I had rather hoped you would buzz Abby today. I have a week available in a couple weeks time and she could book us a trip to South Africa. There’s a place a friend of mine recommended… I’ve never been either so it will be new for both of us…”
I stopped him, “Carlos… I don’t know how to say this but I actually think that I need to concentrate on work for a few weeks. I’ve skipped so much and, well, let’s just say I don’t get paid vacation.”
I began the conversation with practicalities. I’d been told all men understand practicalities. He paused for quite some time and then said what I had dreaded for the last several months.
“Ana, do you not want to go? Because if it’s a matter of money you know all you need to do is ask.”
Like a knife in the gut… All I needed to do was ask? What, like for pocket money? An allowance?
“I would NEVER ask you for money, Carlos,” I said firmly.
I was pretty sure that he felt the tension I accidentally created with my defensiveness. But I couldn’t have been certain. What a mistake it was not to have been brave enough to speak to him in person.
“I know you aren’t asking for money, mi amor,” he softened me, “But I only have certain times when I can leave my work. Your job has quite a bit of flexibility if I understand it correctly? It seems to me that if I subsidize any losses we can still have a great time without it hurting you. In fact, I had only started to wonder today if perhaps things have been hard on you financially lately.”
“Yes it has,” I said, feeling grateful he uttered the words instead of me.
“That makes me sad because it means that it’s all been a little less fun for you than it has been for me,” he said.
God he was always on point.
“Don’t be sad,” I said, “I love being with you. But I do feel like we could use a talk in person. I suppose I just need to clear some things up before we go on anymore honeymoons.”
I forced a little laugh to help lighten the mood.
“Well, ok, where are you now?” he asked.
“Funny enough I’m in the Marin Headlands. I’ve been walking for hours.”
He laughed, “You are full of surprises my dear.”
“So what’s your schedule like?
“Let’s meet at my city apartment in an hour-ish. Do you want a ride home? I’ll arrange a car for you?”
I was grateful and told him where I was. I knew Abby could get a car here faster than I ever could and I was right. I literally hung up the phone, took one last look at the view and had a sigh before Abby’s text message came through.
It read: CAB ON THE WAY. ASSUMING YOU ARE ON CONZELMAN ROAD. TEXT ME IF YOU AREN’T. CAR SHOULD BE THERE ANY MINUTE.
Carlos had told me that Abby had been in the Navy before working for him. Apparently she wanted to be a Navy Seal and had been an amazing athlete in high school so she went out for the SEAL Physical Screening Test. She passed all portions, right on average marks and with the rest of the recruits. But when it came to the run, she was ten seconds too slow. When I enquired what that portion of the test entailed, Carlos told me that she had to run one and a half miles in boots and pants in less than 11 minutes. She did it in 11:10 and could never seem to break 11 minutes no matter how hard she had tried.
That was a seriously impressive pace but not good enough. Apparently most of the SEALs could do it in around 10 minutes. Abby joined the regular Navy and did her service. She never got to go into combat which is what she had wanted to do so she left when her term was up, disappointed and looking for a job.
Abby’s husband had worked at Carlos’ company and had told his manager Abby was looking for a job- that she was ex-military, highly intelligent, organized and discreet. It was the last detail that made Carlos interview her for his personal assistant, which if you are about to scoff, was a position that came with a six figure compensation package.
Carlos had told me the interview left him feeling on the fence. He had thought Abby had all the skills he needed but perhaps lacked social skills. She clinched the job when on a whim he had decided to ask her what her favorite quote was and she came out with this:
“Do not pray for easy lives. Pray for stronger men. Do not pray for tasks equal to your powers. Pray for powers equal to your tasks. Then the doing of your work shall be no miracle. But you shall be a miracle.”
I loved that quote and had never heard it before. I looked around the internet the day after Carlos had quoted it and it was by a preacher named Philip Brooks. He was best known for writing the lyrics for O Little Town of Bethlehem. An interesting man worth a Wikipedia read.
I thought about those words that had won Abby her job. I wondered if she still felt she needed such powerful words behind her. Although she was on call 24/7 it seemed a pretty easy and cushy job that did not require a great deal of strength or power. Did she feel she had sold out? She had wanted to serve her entire nation and now she served one man’s will? One thing is certain, a person choosing that quote as a favorite was hoping to do magnificent and challenging things in life.
Like Carlos, I warmed to Abby because of this quote. So rare are people who are unafraid of hard work and determination. The true grit of these words made me feel like a wet noodle next to her. I texted Abby back that I would wait on Conzelman Road. The roads were few in the Headlands and I was certain that Abby would have described the way I looked to whatever dr
iver would be fetching me. Sure enough, twenty minutes later a car pulled up and surprisingly, a familiar face appeared behind the rolled down window and the man’s voice said, “Ana?”
It was John, halitosis man.
I climbed into the passenger seat. It felt inappropriate to get in the back when I sort of knew this guy.
“Hey, funny seeing you here,” I said.
“Yeah… you, too. How do you know Abby?” He asked.
“Oh, I don’t,” I said, “I know her boss.”
He threw his head back as if to say “ah ha.” Then said no more.
He stared ahead of him, seeming to attempt silence.
“How do you know Abby,” I asked.
“I don’t know her that well actually. But I play soccer with her husband on weekends. He recommended me to Abby’s boss as part of a reserve fleet. Basically I’m on a retainer and keep my cell on for Abby day and night. I think there must be a few of us who do this because I don’t really get called that often.”
“Have you ever driven her boss before?” I asked.
“No, never. Just other random people. Like you… random, eh?”
“Yeah… random.”
We sat in another few moments of silence.
“So, how do you know this Carlos guy?” He asked. “I was told not to speak to the passengers but I figure if someone chooses the front seat they’re looking for a chat.”
How do I answer that question?
“I’m his girlfriend,” was the thing that came out.
“Ooooooooooh,” he said, “You bagged yourself a good one then. And of course, he’s done well, too…” he said with a wink.
John was a nice guy. I could see that he was a good person. He had a happy demeanor and felt like an optimist.
“Yes. He’s pretty wonderful… So what kind of jobs do you do through him? Or for him rather? I mean, what kind of clientele do you usually have in the back?”
John scrunched up his face. “I signed a contract saying I wouldn’t really talk about that stuff. Like a non disclosure agreement type of thing.”
“Oh come on,” I said with curiosity gnawing at me, “I’m part of the gang anyway. Anything Carlos knows I pretty much know, too.”
He looked at me seriously now. John clearly was not the kind of person who was comfortable saying ‘no’ to people.
“I’m not trying to be rude or anything Ana but I promised Abby and also my friends are kind of involved. I just can’t talk shop.”
What could possibly be so secretive?
I changed the subject as it wasn’t my intention to make him uncomfortable. We spoke about his salsa dancing and I told him how Angelo really enjoyed running into him. This easily ate up the time and we pulled up in front of Carlos’ apartment in what felt like the blink of an eye.
“Well, thanks for rescuing me, John. My feet couldn’t take anymore walking today.”
“No problem, of course,” he said with a smile and turned off the engine.
“Oh, you don’t have to wait for me,” I said, “If that’s why you’re turning off the car?”
“No, no. I have another pick up here soon” he replied, “Not sure exactly when they’ll come out.”
I said goodbye and got out of the car. I walked toward the front door and nearly fell through it as someone opened it simultaneously. It was Angel.
Shock. Shock and more shock. What on earth was she doing here? Had she been hanging out with Carlos?! My gut felt as though someone had punched me. I was thunderstruck. I said nothing as the wind had been knocked out of me. That didn’t stop her from talking. As she walked out the door she looked at me with a turned head and simply said, “Your turn.”
Your turn?!?!
Then she flitted across the pavement and grabbed the back car door of John’s Mercedes. I watched her get in. John seemed to say hello but no other words were exchanged. John looked out his window and waved me goodbye and threw me a peace sign.
No motherfucking peace laid within me. War was raging instead.
Just Because You Can
I walked to the elevator trying to calm down but noticed that I had started to sweat under my arms. I was not a big sweater, I didn’t even wear deodorant most days, and only really did so when my nerves were on edge. My body spoke volumes. As the small room lifted through the shaft, so too did my temperature rise like the pressurized mercury in a thermometer.
The elevator doors opened and Carlos waited in the door jam of his apartment. He smiled as he always did and opened his arms. He went in for a little kiss but I avoided him and put my head on his chest, giving him a superficial hug. He backed away, completely alarmed by the coolness of my body which had taken on a feeling of rigor mortis. We both walked into the flat and I saw Simon sitting on the sofa in the lounge. This offered only a slight relief. Clearly Angel had been here with him but it didn’t mean she hadn’t also been with Carlos. I distrusted the girl so deeply that images of threesomes danced in my head.
Hastily, Simon said hello and kissed me on the cheek then said he was just leaving. He looked a bit dejected and gave Carlos a handshake leaving us to it.
Carlos rushed to the sofa and patted it, “Sit. Sit,” he said.
I lowered myself onto the couch and he took my hand. It took all of my self-control not to pull it away. I did not like the look of this situation. I did not belong here. Something eerie was happening. It was as if I had hiked deep into the woods, enjoying nature and following beautiful butterflies and now the forest had grown dark and scary and cast ominous shadows all around me. All I wanted to do was go home.
“I saw An…Paloma downstairs,” I said, nearly using her stage name by accident.
“Yes, Simon asked if he could meet her here,” he said.
“Why here?”
He could see that I was unnerved even though I did my best to hide it. But Carlos was a man who did not rise for the sake of it so he simply answered my question.
“Simon’s kids have chicken pox. He wanted to see Paloma and it wasn’t right to have her at his. Now having said that, she actually just broke it off with him, I think. Or maybe it was the other way around. Very strange situation.”
“Oh really… what do you mean?” I asked.
“Well, we discussed the upcoming trip to Africa. And… well I was going to ask you… Simon wanted to come and thought he’d invite Paloma. But she not only said no, it was like, well, sad but true I’m pretty sure now that she was only with him for a bit of extra cash. Basically he offered to pay for her and give her money for her time off work and she just kept making excuses why that wouldn’t work.”
My agitation was replaced by hesitation. But I braved the situation with the perfect segue.
“Well, that’s awkward. We might be coming across some of the same themes today,” I said.
He pulled his hands back off mine.
“Oh?” he asked.
“Well, not the same thing. Well some of it. I can’t go to Africa with you, Carlos.”
He looked dejected, confused and curious at the same time.
I continued, “I just, ugh, I hate this part because you’ve just seen this go down and I am NOT the same as Paloma. But, first I really need to get my life in order financially. The truth is I’m really behind on my bills and I need to focus.”
He opened his mouth to speak but I stopped him.
“Don’t offer me money, my love,” I said, “I can’t take it. I’m just too proud. I can’t be a kept woman. And it’s really making me start to worry about … about… this. And how it’s going to work. ”
Carlos took a deep breath and sighed it out. He waited for me to say more. There was no use in him protesting without understanding exactly what he was fighting against.
“Carlos,” I said, “I think it’s really complicated and maybe I’m overthinking things but one thing is for sure. I don’t want to be a dancer forever. And when the day comes that I want to do something else… then what? How will I just drop life any o
ld time you need me to?”
His quiet contemplation made me uncomfortable. But he soon broke his silence.
“Ana, I will support anything you want to do in life. I’m a patient man. If we can only see each other when you can take vacation then we’ll just have to do a lot of forward planning. You tell me when you can fit me in,” he smiled.
It all sounded like the perfect answer. But for some reason I still wanted to object.
“We’ll never be equal, Carlos. You’ll always be flying me around the world and paying for everything. Like some sugar daddy…”
He burst out laughing. Loud, bellowing laughter. Why he chuckled was beyond me but his effervescent body sent waves of reassuring vibrations into my body. It lifted my frown into a half smile.
“Why are you laughing?” I asked, “At me?”
“Oh love… no. I don’t exactly know why I’m laughing. I guess…I half expected someone to say I was your sugar daddy but not YOU.”
The thing about Carlos was that he had a captivating happiness within. Suddenly, the mood lightened and I knew that anything that had been going on with Angel would not have descended into darkness through this man. I smiled gently at him and my body grew soft and pliable once again. But I needed to keep on point and so I tried my very best.
“I suppose it is funny, you hearing it from me. But I assure you I’m not the only one thinking it.”
“That upsets you,” he said.
“Yes, yes it does. And it had really got me thinking. How will we ever be equals in this relationship?” I asked.
He leaned over and pulled me close into his chest. It was like lying on a duck down duvet with a memory foam mattress underneath. Soft, supportive and it seemed to know exactly what my body liked. We embraced for a while, not speaking, and I had a moment to listen to his heart beating in his chest. It thumped deliberately and sounded very powerful; I could almost hear the blood pump out of its arteries. When he broke the hold he held me on either side of my body, on my arms and looked at me carefully in the eyes as he spoke.