Too Far

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Too Far Page 6

by Jason Starr


  At my office, Claire and Brian were away, and Andrew was busy on the phone. I downloaded the Discreet Hookups app to my phone and went to my messages. I wasn’t actually going on to chat with FUGITIVE_RED again; I just wanted to see if her profile was still there. Well, this was what I told myself anyway.

  Her profile hadn’t been removed, but she wasn’t online. After I browsed her photos – the same ones I’d seen and knew so well – I did some work. I didn’t have any more showings scheduled for today, but I had a lot of phone calls to make, and I wanted to contact the seller of the 77th Street apartment to make sure I could schedule another showing for Megan. Throughout the day, I kept returning to FUGITIVE_RED’s page, to see if she was online. She wasn’t. I was becoming increasingly convinced I’d been played.

  I went out and grabbed a slice of pepperoni pizza for lunch. I ate it NYC style – fast, standing up. Staring at a mirror above the counter, I noticed I had dark circles under my eyes and the ‘lines’ in my forehead looked like what they actually were – wrinkles. My sideburns were too long and my eyebrows were noticeably unruly. I definitely needed to do a little grooming. Then I took another bite of pizza. I imagined all the fat going right to my stomach and love handles, and spit the mushed-up food into a napkin.

  As I headed back to my office, I decided it was time to start taking better care of myself. No more pizza or deli sandwiches or Chinese takeout – I was going to eat more salad and fruit and home-cooked meals and start taking a bagged lunch to work. And I’d hit the gym more often, too. I was paying eighty-six bucks a month for a membership at New York Sports Club, but I couldn’t remember the last time I’d worked out. A month ago? Two months ago? I had to stick to it, lose ten or fifteen pounds. I had to start dressing better too, paying more attention to my appearance. I’d always dressed simple, casual, but what had happened to my ‘look,’ my sense of personal style? When I was a musician, I used to wear trendy T-shirts, funky necklaces, bracelets, and had both ears pierced. Now, as a middle-aged real estate agent on the Upper East Side, I was in clothes from H&M and the earring holes had closed up. What the hell had happened to me?

  Claire was at her desk, talking to a young couple, potential buyers, and Brian and Andrew were out of the office. When Claire and the couple left, I had the office to myself.

  FUGITIVE_RED still wasn’t active. I decided I’d send her a message, figuring if it was a fake page after all, the worst thing that could happen was that I wouldn’t get a response. Then I saw the green dot appear on FUGITIVE_RED’s profile.

  I bought another hundred dollars of credits on my Visa card, then sent:

  NYCRockGod2: Hey!

  FUGITIVE_RED: hi

  It was hard to judge another person’s mood online, but the lack of caps and no exclamation point made me feel like she wasn’t enthused. Was she upset that I’d logged off last night? If so, she’d responded immediately, so how angry could she be?

  NYCRockGod2: I’m really sorry about last night. My apartment got crowded

  Figured ‘crowded’ was a more polite way to say: ‘my wife had walked in.’

  After a long pause, she sent:

  FUGITIVE_RED: ha no worries Totally get that!

  FUGITIVE_RED: I was pretty nervous too Guess that’s why you took down your pic huh?

  NYCRockGod2: Yeah

  Like last night, I’d felt an oddly strong connection to this woman I‘d never met, whose name I didn’t know. Was it just because of my situation, because I was in an unhappy marriage? Or did we have a real connection?

  FUGITIVE_RED: Makes sense You don’t want your wife to catch you online! I totally get that :)

  NYCRockGod2 : I told you I haven’t done this before and now you know I was telling the truth right? :)

  FUGITIVE_RED: I appreciate your honesty

  Paranoia hit.

  NYCRockGod2: are you home now?

  FUGITIVE_RED: Yes

  I pictured her sitting on a deck, overlooking an idyllic backyard covered with colorful fall leaves.

  NYCRockGod2: It’s a beautiful day but I heard it’s going to get cold this weekend

  Ugh, what was I doing, writing to her about the weather? Could I sound any more banal?

  FUGITIVE_RED: yeah im looking forward to the winter I hope we get a lot of snow this year where r u?

  NYCRockGod2: my office

  Leaving it vague. Figured, let her imagine me sitting at a big mahogany desk with a panoramic city view.

  FUGITIVE_RED: Nice! What sort of work do you do?

  I paused, wondering if I should reveal a personal detail. Then I thought, What I did for a living wasn’t really personal, was it?

  NYCRockGod2: I’m a high end real estate agent

  Okay, yeah, I was trying to pump myself up a little, stoke her fantasies, make her think she was chatting with some big shot mogul.

  FUGITIVE_RED: Wow very cool!

  Cool wasn’t a word I’d ever use to describe my job.

  Then I thought, Why am I sugarcoating it? Like I always preached in my AA speeches – be transparent.

  NYCRockGod2: Actually I’m full of shit Im just a basic real estate agent and wish I was doing something else with my life

  FUGITIVE_RED: ha you’re funny! :) But it’s sad that you want to do something else I mean if you want to do something else why not just do it?

  She made it sound so simple.

  NYCRockGod2: Thank you for saying that. I totally agree!!!

  FUGITIVE_RED: You said u play guitar right? Why did you quit?

  Angry, I typed:

  NYCRockGod2: My wife wasn’t exactly supportive

  About to click send, I hesitated. Maybe bashing Maria didn’t make me look good?

  Eh whatever, I thought, and I sent it.

  FUGITIVE_RED: WOW

  NYCRockGod2: Sorry! I didn’t mean to bash her like that I know I’m responsible for my own decisions, including marrying her

  FUGITIVE_RED: I’m with you! I feel like my husband stifles me too That’s why I’m dying to escape!!!

  We continued chatting. She asked where my office was; I wrote her that I lived and worked on the Upper East Side. Then she told me about the big house she lived in in White Plains. I didn’t handle property in that area, but it sounded sprawling, and I figured it had to be worth around 1.7 mill. I wondered if the money was hers or her husband’s.

  Then we discussed college for a while – my time at Oneonta, hers at Oregon State – she grew up in the Pacific Northwest. She didn’t go on to explain why or when she had moved east; again, I didn’t feel it was the right time to ask.

  I got so caught up in our chat I was amazed when I realized that over an hour had gone by. It was also amazing how titillating it felt just to chat with her. Our conversation wasn’t at all raunchy; her words didn’t excite me, the mystery did – wondering what she was thinking and feeling. Was she into me? Was she fantasizing about me? The unknown was arousing, the questions more exciting than the answers. She’d awakened a flirty, fun side of my personality that had been dormant for years.

  Claire and Brian had returned to the office.

  NYCRockGod2: I should really get back to work :(

  FUGITIVE_RED: K, no worries

  NYCRockGod2: Can’t wait to chat with you again sometime!

  FUGITIVE_RED: That would be great! BTW I’m Sophie :)

  I hesitated. On the one hand, our names were the simplest, most basic information about ourselves – if we’d met in person we would’ve introduced ourselves immediately – yet in the world of online extramarital dating revealing our names felt like a huge deal, as if it would somehow signify a whole new level of intimacy.

  NYCRockGod2: Jack :)

  I felt like I’d jumped off a cliff, but I didn’t care. I wanted to keep falling.

  FUGITIVE_RED: Nice to meet you, Jack
:)

  I hated ending the session but Claire was looking over from her desk, as if wondering what I was doing online that had me so entranced, and I didn’t want her to get suspicious. I wrote to Sophie that I’d love to chat again later if she was around. I added that I’d try to be online around eleven tonight and she responded that she’d try to be free then too.

  I tried to distract myself with work – emailing, texting, making my daily follow-up calls to potential buyers. It was hard to not think about Sophie, though. How had some kind words from a total stranger had such a pronounced effect on me so quickly? Had I been more lonely and starving for attention than I’d realized? I noticed a major change in my whole attitude. Normally, when I was talking to clients, I was curt and professional and didn’t have a lot of excitement in my tone. But today I had a lot more energy and I sounded much more positive and confident, and I could tell it was having an effect. A couple of people who might’ve blown me off normally arranged for times to go out to look at apartments.

  I guess there was something to the power of positive thinking because a few minutes later Megan Conaway called and made an offer on the 77th Street apartment. Although the offer was 15,000 dollars below the asking price, I knew the sellers hadn’t gotten any offers and were eager to make a deal. I immediately called the sellers and, sure enough, they accepted the offer. I called Megan back with the news, and she was thrilled, and so was I at my first sale in months. I didn’t know if chatting with Sophie, and the surge of optimism and excitement this had given me, had anything to do with getting the sale, but it felt like it had.

  Claire and Brian congratulated me. Andrew Wolf had been working in his office, but when he heard the commotion he came out and asked what was going on.

  ‘Jack got a sale,’ Claire said.

  ‘Which apartment?’ Andrew asked.

  ‘One-bedroom on 77th,’ I said.

  ‘Nice,’ he said. Then added, ‘Well, let’s get a few more like that, and you’ll be back in business.’

  Andrew was a nice guy – he was a good father, had two beautiful daughters – but he could also be a big time jerk. A few more like that? Making me feel like I was, what, auditioning for my own job?

  ‘I’ll do my best,’ I said, smiling.

  At two thirty, I happily left my office and headed toward Jonah’s school for afternoon pickup.

  It had warmed to about sixty degrees and the sun was shining brightly. I took out my cell to call Sophie and tell her about the good news. Then I remembered that I didn’t have her phone number; I’d never even heard her voice. She was a virtual stranger, but, oddly, I already felt so close to her.

  I picked up Jonah after school and took him to his karate class. Afterward, remembering my vow to eat healthier, we stopped at Fairway on 86th and picked up vegetables, brown rice, and a couple of pounds of Alaska salmon. I’d been eating way too much meat and cheese and fried food lately. I wanted to start over, get all the junk out of my body that felt like it had been building up inside me for years.

  When we arrived at the apartment, surprisingly, Maria was there too, in the bedroom, changing out of her work clothes. It was only four thirtyish and she usually didn’t get home until past six.

  Ordinarily, I would have been excited to tell her about the possible sale I’d made, but she was still giving me the silent treatment, and I knew that making up before she decided she wanted to make up was practically impossible.

  As Maria talked to Jonah about his day and helped him with his math homework in his room, I started cooking dinner. When I was sautéing the salmon, the apartment got smoky and the smoke alarm went off.

  ‘Shit,’ I said.

  I stood on a chair under the alarm and waved a dish towel for maybe ten seconds until the alarm shut off.

  Maria, who’d come out of the bedroom, muttered something.

  ‘Did you just call me a jerk?’ I asked.

  ‘No,’ she said.

  I knew what I’d heard.

  ‘Because it sounded like that’s what you said,’ I said.

  ‘Well, you’re good at making things up,’ she said as she went into the bathroom.

  Jonah, nearby, had overheard this.

  I was furious. Again she was starting with this crap, right in front of Jonah? I didn’t want to live like this anymore.

  Jonah and I had dinner alone.

  ‘Where’s Mommy?’

  ‘Resting,’ I said.

  ‘Oh,’ he said.

  Maria and I avoided each other for most of the evening. I thought about going to an AA meeting, but I wasn’t in the mood. When Maria finally went to sleep, I logged on to Discreet Hookups.

  Like the other times, I felt a rush, but this was more intense. I didn’t just want to get online; I needed to get online.

  I went right to Sophie’s page, felt the disappointment when I saw the message: FUGITIVE_RED is offline.

  Paranoid thoughts crept in: What if she had disabled her account? What if I never heard from her again?

  As my thoughts continued to spiral, I imagined how devastated I’d feel if I never chatted with her again. Of course I knew, rationally, that all of this was ridiculous – I was acting like some heartbroken high school kid about a woman I’d never met – but I couldn’t deny how I felt.

  It seemed ridiculous to just sit at the dining room table, staring at the laptop, hoping for her green dot to appear. I tried to distract myself by reading Facebook posts and scrolling through Instagram, but I couldn’t let more than a minute go by without switching back to the Discreet Hookups page to see if she was there.

  At 11:15, she still wasn’t there. I was cursing to myself, shaking my head, wondering what I could have written to scare her off. Had the mention of my son freaked her out? Yeah, probably.

  Then at 11:31 the notification appeared: FUGITIVE_RED is online.

  I actually said, ‘Yay,’ but, thankfully, not too loud.

  NYCRockGod2: Hey!

  I felt relaxed and free, like a huge burden had been lifted.

  FUGITIVE_RED: Hey!!

  Two exclamation points – that had to mean something.

  FUGITIVE_RED: How was your day?

  When was the last time Maria had asked me how my day was?

  NYCRockGod2: Awesome. I sold an apartment.

  FUGITIVE_RED: That’s so amazing!! Yay! I’m so happy 4 U!!

  Her enthusiasm felt great.

  I gave her more details about the sale and she seemed genuinely happy for me. It felt good to smile again. It also felt nice to communicate with someone who wasn’t calling me an ‘idiot.’

  Then I asked her how her day was.

  FUGITIVE_RED: Not as good. I don’t want to upset you I’m very emotional right now 

  NYCRockGod2: You don’t have to apologize for emotion.

  Could I sound more like an alcoholic?

  FUGITIVE_RED: Sometimes he hits me I’ve put up with it for nine fucking years. I don’t know why I don’t just leave, run away. I’ve tried, but I can’t. I just can’t get away.

  NYCRockGod2: You can’t blame yourself. Sometimes it’s not easy to get out of a bad situation.

  Platitudes, I know, but at AA meetings I was used to counseling people in domestic abuse situations. Also, it had always been much easier for me to help solve other people’s problems than to work on my own.

  FUGITIVE_RED: When I was single I didn’t understand why unhappily married people stayed together I thought if you aren’t happy why not just get a divorce? But then when you get married you find out how much more complicated it is

  NYCRockGod2: Yeah I totally get that!

  FUGITIVE_RED: Do you like Van Gogh?

  I loved Van Gogh. Could this woman be any more perfect?

  NYCRockGod2: Yesssss!!!

  FUGITIVE_RED: Same. :)

  NYC
RockGod2: He’s my favorite artist! I mean I know that it sounds like a total cliché because everybody likes Van Gogh, but his art really speaks to me

  Ugh, I wished I’d reworded that – I sounded like some pretentious fuck – but I’d already clicked send.

  FUGITIVE_RED: That’s why I chose my name FUGITIVE RED :) There was an article a few weeks ago in the NYT magazine They say the reds in his paintings have faded

  I’d read that article too.

  NYCRockGod2: Right fugitive reds!!!

  FUGITIVE_RED: They were bright and vibrant for a short time then faded

  NYCRockGod2: I read that article too Yes!

  FUGITIVE_RED: To me that’s what love is

  NYCRockGod2: You think love fades?

  FUGITIVE_RED: Yes People meet for a short time have great connection and maybe that’s all there is

  NYCRockGod2: Interesting maybe I agree!

  FUGITIVE_RED: Can I ask you a personal question?

  NYCRockGod2: K

  FUGITIVE_RED: Are you in love with your wife?

  I paused, considering how to word my response. Then I sent:

  NYCRockGod2: No

  FUGITIVE_RED: I’m sorry That sounds rough :(

  NYCRockGod2: It is what it is

  I was tearing up a little, like I sometimes did on the podium at AA.

  FUGITIVE_RED: So now you have all my baggage? If you want to run now’s your chance.

  I never ran from baggage, even baggage I should’ve run from. Call it my fatal flaw.

  NYCRockGod2: I’m not going anyway

  NYCRockGod2: Anywhere I mean :)

  FUGITIVE_RED: :)

  FUGITIVE_RED: I wish I could see u right now I want to look into your eyes

  NYCRockGod2: Me too

  I was hoping she wouldn’t ask to Skype. That seemed too risky.

  FUGITIVE_RED: We seem so right for each other

  NYCRockGod2: I know! we have everything in common

 

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