by SJ Cavaletti
“I don’t… I literally can’t process this.”
Only I could. I knew about these research grants. But I’d never been big enough to try for one. I always felt too young and inexperienced.
“Believe it, Lizzie. The grant is for two years. Working with Librata Labs. On your mouth strip technology. YOUR idea. YOUR invention.”
“I can’t…”
“You can.”
I scratched my head with both sets of fingers. My mouth hung open. I was speechless. El had listened to me, processed my idea, spent what was probably hours on a grant application, pretending to be me, to give me the opportunity of a lifetime.
“Babe, you got to get out of here.” He continued. “I’ll miss our morning commute and all, but you can’t spend your life tightening nuts and bolts with a brain like yours. You were meant to invent. To change the world. The strips are a hell of a good idea. Cheap. Accessible. If they work for this, the technology could be applied to other things. Early diagnosis saves lives.”
I got up and moved around to the other side of the table where he sat. I put myself on El’s lap. Hell, I didn’t care about PDA. I was out of this place, anyway.
I pressed my lips into his and pushed into him with my deepest gratitude. His warm pout pressed back and all his life energy charged through my veins.
My dream man.
He put his hands on my waist and my core tightened with a shiver, the one that involuntarily ran through me every time his hands touched me. I moved my mouth over his, opening my lips slightly but stopping myself before this all took off with fifty other people around. I took his bottom lip in my mouth, then let it go.
“You’re literally the best thing since sliced bread, Elias Papatonis. No. Since germ theory.”
I kissed him lightly. “No. Better. Since antibiotics.”
I kissed his nose. “Or maybe since x-rays.”
“Stop. You’re embarrassing me. I’m not that good.”
One more kiss. “You’re better.”
“I’d like to be as good as what’s coming. One day I’ll be using your name like a noun.”
“Pass me the Jones? I like the sound of that.”
“Sir.” El pretended to talk to a patient. “I’ll need to give you a Jones test. But don’t worry, the Jones treatment is available and has a one hundred percent cure rate.”
I laughed and, as if my joy cast a spell on the moment, time stood still. El’s eyes. Those deep brown pools of melted chocolate pulled me in. I wanted to bottle this. Remember this story verbatim. So I could tell our kids the exact story about when I decided I wanted to spend the rest of my life with their dad.
“What are you thinking?” El asked.
“Just thinking about how much I love you. And how lucky I am that you love me, too. It doesn’t always happen that way.”
“Well, if you liked that, there’s more.”
“More?”
He rubbed my leg and looked down. “I was thinking about celebrating. This is a big win. And also I want to spend some time with you before we don’t work together anymore.”
He looked up. “How about a long weekend in Sedona? I have a couple of friends going. We could maybe spend the weekend with them? Hiking? Spa? ATVs… that sort of thing?”
“Did you even need to ask?”
“No. But equally I know better than to tell you what to do.”
“Send me the dates.”
“I will.”
“And El?”
“Mmm?”
“You tell me what to do all the time. You’re just so damn good, I always think it’s my idea.”
9
Elias
Present Day
Reno
“Man. You going to tell us what’s going on?” Drake asked when swapping places with Maeve for the passenger seat in the motorhome.
We were on the road to Uyu from Reno, the sparse but somehow scenic desert landscape all around us.
“What? What do you mean?” I asked, knowing what he meant.
Even though hours ago I had been desperate to talk to Drake about the Liz situation, now that the chance was upon me, I found it hard to find words. A segue. It felt selfish to focus on me and my problem when these guys were so excited to get back to Uyu and let their hair down for a week. They wanted to decompress, not bring drama to the stage.
Also, it was their one-year anniversary. On this day a year ago, Drake saw Maeve at Magpie. I knew they were excited to get back to their special spot and just have fun. I didn’t want to burden them by starting off the vacation with a downer.
But Drake knew me well. And he was a great friend, so he didn’t ease up. “Well, first, when we saw you at the motorhome place, I said you looked like hell and you said you didn’t sleep. But then, you insisted on driving the caravan. Which we both know only I ever drive us to Uyu. So that’s the second thing. Now, you haven’t said more than yes or no to Maeve…”
“That’s not true,” I said, staring at the road, “Anyway, it’s called listening.”
I couldn’t see Drake, but it felt like he crossed his arms.
“AND,” he added, “two people have cut you off, then drove slowly in front of you and you didn’t even get mad once.”
I wanted to give one of those automatic, little white lies to Drake and say that I’d been working on my road rage since I last saw him. But honestly? That I never even noticed said cars told me I was in la-la land because I hadn’t been working on anything. My road rage still ran deep.
This Liz thing turned me into a zombie. Time to snap out of it.
“So, fine, yeah, I have something on my mind.”
I could feel Maeve shuffle up into the nearest seat behind me.
“Finally,” Drake said. “Just get it off your chest, dude. You don’t want to carry that crap around at Uyu. Or at all. You know I got your back.”
I scratched the back of my head, then my forehead. Suddenly, I felt itchy everywhere.
“So last night I got an email from Liz.”
Maeve’s voice floated into my ear. “That’s your ex-fiancée?”
“Yeah. That’s right.”
“She does usually write a few times a year, you said. So what’s so different this time?” Drake knew there must be much more. He knew Liz and I were friendly.
“Yeah, we sort of keep in touch. But this time she wrote to tell me she’s going to be at Uyu. Like today. Like this Uyu.”
“Holy shit, dude.”
“Yeah. Holy shit is right. Shit, that don’t stink. It’s got to be holy.”
Drake tried to interpret my comment. “So you’re happy to see her then? I’m guessing that’s what you mean by that extremely weird and literal take on shit.”
“Yeah. Course I want to see her. But don’t, too. If you know what I mean.”
Maeve piped up. “I don’t mean to pry, El. You don’t have to tell me everything but I don’t really know this story.”
“I don’t know that much either,” Drake said, reminding me that every time he asked more about Liz in the past, I’d changed the subject.
We had about an hour left to Uyu. Then at least thirty minutes lining up behind cars. I might have piqued too soon. Because there was no way I could tell these guys the whole story. I’d barely admitted the truth to myself. Somehow, this little bugger never escaped Pandora’s box.
Guilt grabbed my throat like a vice. I tried to swallow, but it was like I was force fed a shot put. Our story? Liz and I? It was nothing short of an absolute tragedy. But it wasn’t the nature of my friendship with Drake to keep things from him. Drake had confided his life’s story in me, or at least I had thought he did. I tried a few times to tell Drake about my past, but me not telling him this whole thing? I was sparing him.
And Liz. I didn’t want them to form an opinion of her based on my account of us. So I broke it down in simple terms.
“So, it is a pretty long story, but the abridged version is that,” I took a deep breath and tried to c
alm a wobble that threatened my vocal cords, “Basically we were together for, like, two years. Yeah, two and half years.”
No. It was thirty-one months and five days. I counted once during a bout of insomnia. Which was only last night.
“Anyway, she left me not long after we moved from Florida to Seattle.”
“So she broke up with you?” Maeve asked.
“Yeah.”
“Why?”
“Yeah. Why?” Drake asked then turned to Maeve. “Even I don’t know this.”
“She said she wanted to live in Florida again,” I said, “And I had just started a job in Seattle. My first real placement after becoming a senior doctor. And, basically she just didn’t like living there.”
A subtle pause. Long enough to make me squirm.
“She didn’t like being far from her family.” I justified.
I lied.
“Wait. But you guys were going to get married?” Maeve asked.
“Hang on, man. The El I know would move mountains for love. Why didn’t you just find a job in Florida?”
“It sounds like you’re blaming me,” I said impulsively, almost as if someone else said it for me.
“No! Shit no, dude. Just. You know. This doesn’t feel like the whole story. I’ve known you what? Five, six years? You’re Mister ‘don’t miss out on love’ guy. I’m just wondering why you let yourself miss out.”
Crap. Drake knew me too well. He continued, “I’m not trying to make you relive this all, El. Just seems like you need to talk about it. Maybe get some of it off your chest before you see her again for the first time in eons.”
Drake was right. I decided on the plane ride that I wouldn’t squander the opportunity to talk to Liz when I saw her. I mean, really, really talk to her. At some point over this week, I was going to find some closure. I needed it. I wanted it from deep in the pit of my heart, stomach, or wherever my soul lived. It would help if I had a little practice.
I tried a yoga breath out so I didn’t get light-headed, but I felt dizzy anyway as my blood pressure rose. Anxiety was a vicious devil. Beelzebub himself.
I told them some of it. But not all of it. I just couldn’t do it. It felt like I was telling someone else’s secret instead of my own.
10
Elias
Six Years Ago
Sedona
* * *
Everything cooperated. Like the universe moved in perfect synchronicity. Everything had been flowing like that since the moment I first met Liz, and this trip had been no different.
Every second with Liz was a holiday. She entertained and made the check-in person at the airport counter laugh. We had drinks at the sky bar, a shot of sambuca, which was now the tradition to start off all our getaways. Holding hands on the flight, her head on my shoulder, I touched her thigh and slid it up higher and higher until I called her bluff, and she picked up my hand and whispered, “Stop it.” Even though she said it for other people’s benefit, not her own.
My Mom always told me when I met the One, I’d know. She was totally right. She always said, “If you have to ask, it’s not.” Not one single question arose with Liz. Not one.
Liz and I arrived in Sedona and it seemed like it took much more than three months to get to this point. In between me telling her about the grant and booking the vacation, I also took on the stressful and daunting task of ring shopping.
The pressure of picking out a piece of jewelry that the love of your life will wear every day for the rest of her life was a special kind of nerves. I wasn’t one to sweat unless I hit the gym, but when I realized there was this whole new verbiage I had to learn? I thought my biggest challenge would be figuring out her ring size. I was wrong. It was so complicated. There were the four C’s, and five different diamond types and like, twelve different shapes and countless ways of positioning these shapes on several kinds of precious metals. To top off the stress of selection, Liz wore little jewelry, so it wasn’t as if I had a starting point.
The only people who knew I was going to propose were Mom and Dad. I wasn’t old-fashioned in any other way than this. I wanted to know they liked her as much as I did. I hadn’t expected them to be anything but thrilled and thrilled they were. Their knowing also gave me a chance to get some advice for ring shopping.
My Dad had said, “Cartier or Tiffany’s and you can’t go wrong.”
My Mom had added, while jumping around like she had to pee, “Liz seems no nonsense. And kind of sporty. Baguettes along the band for simple shine, maybe? But if she’s not a gems kind of girl, always go for a round cut. It’s classic. Impossible not to love and never goes out of style. And like your Dad says. Tiffany’s or Cartier. The box alone will be exciting.”
I left the house with a manly pat of the back from my Dad. One he’d never given me before. And my Mom had tears in her eyes. Even if they hadn’t told me a million times over how excited they were for me, their bodies said everything I needed to know. They approved.
I had three months to plan and set into motion what I thought of as the best engagement for us. Liz and I loved the outdoors. Making our way up hills, running races, we even tried a hand at triathlon. Hiking in Sedona felt like the right place to pop the question. She wouldn’t have preferred Paris.
Though I had told Liz we were joining Tom and Enrique, two old friends of mine, the truth was it was me who had invited them. I wanted witnesses. Celebrants. People to help us remember this turning point in our relationship.
Tom and Enrique flew in to Arizona from San Francisco.
I had known Enrique since high school, and he had met Tom during his first year of college after leaving North Carolina. Enrique had been one of my best friends since elementary school. We’d been through a lot together. When his brother refused to be his best man in his wedding to Tom, I stepped up to the plate like I wasn’t second choice. And now, he’d be my best man. I just had to get this woman to say yes.
Tom, Enrique and Liz got along like a house on fire because everyone loved Liz. I once thought there was something magical about her but I now knew yes, she was magnetic, but it wasn’t just that. She made other people feel special. The way she looked straight into your eyes when you spoke. The way she’d touch your arm at just the right moment. The way she asked questions to keep you speaking until the purge was over. And no one was too big or too small to receive this gift of her attention.
Normally, the hospital rumor mill would speak negatively about any couple dating. Especially a young woman coming in and “snatching” up a doctor on her first day. But Liz had allies everywhere. For once, Drama General seemed okay with a hospital romance. Or maybe I just didn’t notice because, with Liz, I felt immune. She floated above everything. Negativity just didn’t touch her.
Sedona was a dreamland of beautiful scenery that felt as if it belonged to another planet. That day we took a hike out, lots of photos and the best part about being with another couple was I didn’t feel bad about touching Liz all day long. Throwing her up against rock formations and stealing kisses. But as the carefree day shifted, and we headed back to our hotel, I could hear the little signature blue box like it had a wire to my ear and it kept telling me not to fuck up.
Tonight was the night and so far everything had gone perfectly. Hiking all day in the red rocks, we finished with everyone getting a treatment in the spa hotel where we stayed. Enrique and Tom both got facials, Liz, a massage and I got reflexology because even though I knew it wasn’t scientifically proven, it always put me to sleep in a way massage didn’t do. And my nerves totally frazzled with jitters. I needed that hour of sleep.
I was freaking out. Not that I didn’t think proposing was the right thing. It was the rightest thing I’d ever planned to do. And not that I thought she’d say no. But when you want something to be perfect so badly?
Stage fright.
I had some lines rehearsed. Tom and Enrique knew but kept poker faces now that we all sat down to dinner at the spa restaurant. They were all relax
ed and though my body cooperated during my reflexology session; I found myself dry-mouthed and with little to say at dinner.
We all considered our menus. I looked at Tom and Enrique and even though I knew they must be thinking about the proposal as much as I was, they pretended to be fascinated by the menu. I glanced at Liz. She genuinely was. Fascinated by the menu.
Because everything fascinated Liz. It wasn’t easy to say what I loved best about Liz. The quality of her being was infinite. But one thing that stood out was her curiosity, her enthusiasm for life. Her ability to notice the small things.
An all-black ladybug on the hedge.
Or the way one tulip was slightly less red than another.
It was this that made her so alive. Her being present forced us all to be present. If you were with Liz, you were seizing the day.
She furrowed her brow, looking at the menu, deciding which dish would be her carpe diem. But I knew she’d want them all. At least one bite of each. She hated choosing.
“Should we,” I said, “Just get one of each thing on the menu? Try everything? We can all share?”
“That’s lush,” Liz said, then counted the mains with her finger, mouthing the numbers as she went, “Nine… ten… eleven. Eleven dishes? Can we eat all that?”
I smiled at her. “You can do like you do with truffles. Just a bite of each.”
“Still, that’s crazy.”
“Don’t tell me you don’t want to.”
She rolled her eyes and bobbled her head. “Of course I want to. You know me.”
Enrique and Tom both wanted lobster. I knew them well. They couldn’t care less about most of the dishes on the menu as they were pescatarians. But they knew it was Liz’s day. So they waited for her to respond.
“You know. If there was someone to give all the extras to, that would work. But I just couldn’t send all that uneaten food to the garbage. Much as I want to try literally everything on here.”
Her eyes moved back down to the menu. Heart of gold. There are starving people out there. Who was she to waste?