by Sarah Price
He kissed me in the back room of my grandmother’s house as I was teaching him to say the word cool. It was unforgettable. The kind of kiss you would expect your first to be like: magical and dizzying. From there, we started a love affair that only teenagers can have-frenzied and earth shattering. I returned the following summer one year older and in love. We were inseparable and Jack became my standard-the standard for all other love affairs in my life. However, just like all things summer at that age, I promised to write and he promised to wait for me until I returned the following July. We both broke our promises and I went back home with the memory of that kiss to compare all other kisses to.
I didn’t tell Michael about Jack. I don’t know why. I felt like that was something that belonged only to me, something that I shared with that boy who spoke in broken English and whose kiss took my breath away. I did tell Michael about everything else in my life. I told him about my grandparents, my parents, and my love of Spanish culture. I told him about my brother who just got married and my best friend, Abby, who was in Italy finding herself. Michael listened attentively and spoke only after I finished.
Michael: “Did anyone ever tell you your eyes dance when you speak?”
Tia: “Actually, Kelly used to say that to me all the time.”
Michael: “Kelly?”
Tia: “Abby’s dad. He died a few years back.”
Michael: “Well, he’s right. It’s like your eyes are on fire or something. Do they do that a lot?”
Tia: “Only when I get excited.”
Michael: “Oh really?”
Tia: “Not quite what you’re thinking. When it’s something I really care about.”
Michael: “And traveling excites you?”
Tia: “Yeah, I guess it does.”
Michael: “Well, if you decide you need company on that trip of yours to everywhere, I’m available. I’m good with directions and can carry heavy luggage so I might useful.”
Tia: “Maybe. . .Let’s see what happens.”
Michael: “Oh, I already know what’s going to happen. You’re the girl I’m going to marry.”
After that, my relationship with Michael turned serious. It was only a few days later, coming home from a night of barhopping with friends, that he kissed me. It was a sweet and gentle kiss. It reminded me so much of my kiss with Jack yet it was so different in many ways. My kiss with Jack was intense and innocent. I was young and vulnerable with an unrealistic view of love. My kiss with Michael was mature and confident. I was older, more experienced and no longer blinded by the fairytales. I guess, by then, I had kissed my fair share of ugly frogs that never turned into handsome princes.
Two weeks after that kiss, we made love for the first time in my dorm room while my roommate was away visiting her parents over a weekend. It wasn’t as romantic as the kiss but it was just as special for me since it was the first time I had ever been with a man. That same night, Michael told me he loved me.
Before long, we began planning a future together, filled with hopes, dreams and talk of traveling to everywhere on the map, something I was hoping to do with Abby and now wanted to share with Michael. I never told Michael about my plans to meet Abby at the Eiffel Tower after I graduated college. It didn’t seem important at the time. It also didn’t seem very real. I still had plenty of time before I graduated to tell Michael about those plans. So, instead, we talked about marriage but agreed it wouldn’t happen until we both finished graduate school. It was no secret that Michael wanted to become an attorney, just like his father and his grandfather. Going to law school was his top priority, something that was expected of him. I knew that we would continue dating until he finished and passed the bar and I finished medical school. So I certainly wasn’t expecting Michael, on the day of his college graduation, to get down on one knee and propose to me.
Michael: “I love you so much and I want you to be my wife.”
Tia: “Michael, what are you doing? I thought we were going to wait?”
Michael: “I’m so sure of this, Tia. I want to marry you. It’s just happening sooner than later. Say yes.”
Tia takes the last sip of her wine, closing her eyes to enjoy the sweet taste as it runs down her throat. Almost immediately, she feels a slight tingle in her toes and a warm feeling spreads throughout her body, which lets her know that she is dangerously close to her limit. Normally, Tia would rein herself in before she crossed the line between “buzzed” and “drunk” but at that moment, she doesn’t care. She is feeling the most relaxed that she has been in months and Tia wants to enjoy the feeling for as long as she can. Still, a million and one questions run through her mind and all are Abby.
“I wonder how Abby is doing. Why did she wait so long to tell me how sick she was?”
But that is so like Abby, Tia thinks, to be more concerned about others than herself. Tia remembers well Abby’s reaction when she told her she was getting married.
Tia and Abby
Abby: “You’re what?”
Tia: “I’m engaged to be married.”
Abby: “You’re kidding, right?”
Tia: “No, why would I do that. I’m going to be a missus, Mrs. Gables, to be exact, not to be confused with Clark Gable or Anne of Green Gables.”
Abby: “How soon?”
Tia: “You are not laughing.
Abby: “How soon, Tia?”
Tia: In about two months.”
Abby: “What’s the rush? You’re not pregnant, are you?”
Tia: “No, God no! It’s just that Michael is starting law school in the fall and his father has got a job lined up for him at his old firm as a law clerk. So we thought it would be best to get married as soon as possible and settle in before things get crazy for him with school and work.”
Abby: “What about you?”
Tia: “I’m putting medical school on hold for now until Michael finishes his first year. Besides, I’ll be so busy planning a wedding and setting up house that I wouldn’t be any good with hitting the books.”
Abby: “And our plans, the Eiffel Tower, two girls in Europe?”
Tia: “It can still happen, just not this summer. We can plan it for next summer. It will still be just two girls in Europe, except one of us will be wearing a wedding band.”
Abby: “Well, there goes getting drunk and picking up random guys at bars.”
Tia: “We can still get drunk and you can still pick up the guys. I will just be there to make sure you don’t get into any trouble. It can still be fun.”
Abby: “I guess.”
Tia: “I know what you’re thinking but I really thought this through. I know what I’m doing.”
Abby: “As long as you’re happy about this.”
Tia: “I am, really, I am.”
The sound of the captain’s voice once again on the loudspeaker brings Tia back to reality.
We will be arriving in Madrid, Spain in just ten minutes. The local time is 7:10 am and the current temperature is 75 degrees, reaching a high of 86 degrees, with sunny skies throughout the rest of the day. Please remember to take any luggage you may have stowed in your overhead compartment and please check to make sure you do not leave any items behind as you disembark. Please wait until the plane is at a complete stop before removing your seatbelt and moving around the cabin. For those of you with a connecting flight, make sure to check the departure boards for your gate and time. I want to thank you for flying Iberia and I hope to see you again very soon. Bienvenido a Espana.
She can’t help but think, “We are almost there. It won’t be long before I get to see you again.”
Tia is so nervous and anxious to see Abby, looking forward to it and yet dreading it all at the same time. In fact, she is not so sure how she is going to react. Already, the long flight has given Tia time to think about things she has worked very hard to forget or at least, learn to live with-happy and painful memories of her time with Michael. Thinking about Michael triggers so many feelings inside of her and many of her memories
having to do with him are linked irrevocably to Abby. Her postcards played such an important role in Tia’s marriage, even right from the beginning.
Tia and Abby
It was two weeks before my wedding, when I had received Abby’s postcard in the mail: a postcard of the Seine River in Paris, France. Abby had moved from Rome to Paris shortly after I had announced my engagement. She had made friends with a high-fashion photographer in a Ralph Lauren show she was working at in Milan. They had gotten along so well that the photographer offered Abby a job at his assistant in Paris and she jumped at the chance. When I had heard the news, I admit I felt a pang of jealousy. We had always talked about going to Paris and here she was actually going without me. I tried to convince myself that my feelings were foolish, especially with all of the excitement surrounding my upcoming wedding and I kept so busy with the planning that I didn’t have time to think about it much. The postcard Abby sent was of the river and the dozen of charming houseboats lined on either side of it painted in different shades of color. For a moment, I imagined living in one of them with Michael and how wonderful that would be.
Tia,
Just arrived in Paris. In fact, I am writing to you while sitting on a bench along the Seine. Although I was never a coffee drinker, I am having an espresso hoping that I will somehow change into an authentic Parisian instead of an American tourist desperately trying to fit in. I don’t think it is working as well as I planned but I have not lost faith. I have plenty of time to make the transformation and I intend to stay here until I do. I wish you were here. The river is so beautiful, shimmering and reflecting the lights of the city. You can definitely feel the energy. I know it is a cliché but I’ll say it anyway-love is in the air. You and Michael should seriously think about spending your honeymoon here. There is something about this place that spells magic. What a way to start your new life together. Think about it.
Abby
I had never considered Paris for my honeymoon until Abby’s postcard but it seemed like the perfect beginning to my new life. When I talked to Michael about it, it was clear he had other plans.
Michael: “Tia, honey, that sounds wonderful, but I thought we could go to Hawaii.”
Tia: “But Hawaii, Michael? Everyone goes to Hawaii on their honeymoon but how many people can actually say they’ve been to the City of Lights?”
Michael: You’ll love Hawaii, the beaches, the sunsets, the luaus. It’s going to be great. You’ll see.
I didn’t know then what I know now. The problems between Michael and me began at that moment, the moment I chose Hawaii over Paris. It was the first of many compromises I made throughout my marriage.
Chapter Five
Tia and Abby
I was married on a Saturday afternoon in late June. It was a small affair, only a handful of our closest friends and family attended. Michael and I were married at the Holy Trinity chapel at NYU. Abby flew in from France to stand besides me as my maid of honor. Even though she disagreed with my decision, she never questioned it after our talk and instead, was enthusiast and supportive that day, allowing me to shine for once. She even agreed to wear the understated pale green cocktail dress I had picked out for her. Of course, she dressed it up with sparkly high heel platform shoes that screamed, “notice me” but I wouldn’t expect anything different from Abby.
After the ceremony, Michael and I joined our guests for an intimate lunch at our favorite Italian bistro by Washington Square Park. There was really no time to plan a big wedding as Michael was starting at the law firm as soon as we returned from our Hawaiian honeymoon. There was also no money for a catering hall, DJ, favors and all of the other essentials of a big affair. I wasn’t working and Michael was not going to make much money working as a law clerk. But looking back at it all now, we were so happy, the happiest we had been in our marriage.
At the reception, Abby and I sneaked a bottle of champagne out to the balcony of the restaurant and toasted to the start of my marriage and our “girls only” trip to Europe. We talked about possibilities and with Abby, I always believed in the impossible, in my dreams.
Abby: “Well, Mrs. Gables.”
Tia: ”Yes?”
Abby; “I’m sorry, I still can’t get used to that.”
Tia: “Just call me Tia or as you like to call me-pain in the neck. Better yet, Michael’s better half-whichever one you prefer.”
Abby: “Definitely my pain in the neck and his better half.”
Tia: “Ha, ha. Very funny.”
Abby: “Seriously, he is lucky to have you.”
Tia: “I am lucky to have him.”
Abby: “True, but I think he got the better deal.”
Tia: “You have to say that because you’re my best friend.”
Abby: “Best friend and travel buddy or have you forgotten? You, me, Paris?”
Tia: “I haven’t forgotten.”
Abby: “Just checking.”
Tia: “You are too much but then again, it’s who you are and I wouldn’t change it.”
Abby: “Mrs. Gables?
Tia: “Yes?”
Abby: “Never thought you would be the type to take on your husband’s last name.”
Tia: “I didn’t think so either. Who knew I could be this old fashioned.”
Abby: “You have singlehandedly set the woman’s movement back, you know. Your parents are probably thrilled.”
Tia: “They are happy to see me settled. Where they come from, at my age, I am considered an old maid. The family was starting to talk.”
Abby: “Then I am sure they have a mouthful to say about me.”
Tia: “You are quite the scandal.”
Abby: “Glad to be a source of entertainment.”
Tia: “Better than the tabloids.”
Abby: “Tia Gables…I have to admit the name suits you.”
Tia: “I see that look and I know what you’re thinking.”
Abby: “You do, huh? I didn’t know you were a mind reader now.”
Tia: “You are afraid that I will lose myself in all of this and forget about my plans.”
Abby: “Really, Dr. Gables? Please go on, this is very insightful. Do I need to lay down on a couch for this?”
Tia: “I am being serious. I won’t change. I still have my goals and I will become a doctor, just a little later than planned.”
Abby: “I never said that you’d change.”
Tia: “But you’re thinking it. You forget that I know you only too well.”
Abby: “That I can’t argue with.”
Tia: “But I promise, no changing. I am still Tia.”
Abby: “A toast then. To Dr. Tia Gables.”
Tia: “To my maid of honor, pain in my neck and best friend.”
Abby: “To Paris next summer.”
Tia: “Now that is something I can drink to.”
We raised our glasses, clinked them together and giggled like two schoolgirls gossiping about the cutest boy in school. In this case, the cutest boy was Michael and I was the geeky girl turned Cinderella who landed her prince.
Tia and Michael
After the honeymoon, Michael and I moved into a tiny studio apartment on the Upper East Side of Manhattan so that he was within walking distance from Columbia Law School. We had very little furniture and I can remember the first few weeks after we moved in. The bed that we ordered from a local furniture store had yet to arrive so we slept on the floor in sleeping bags. One night I surprised Michael, who had come home late again from his job and evening classes, with an indoor picnic. I laid out a checkered blanket on the floor of our empty bedroom. I served cheese and crackers, along with bread and a chilled bottle of white wine. We talked and laughed the whole night long and then fell so easily into the kissing, touching, and intimacy that is part of the everyday fabric of newlywed couples, giddy with the thought of spending a lifetime together and what that would bring with it-children and growing old, confident in the fact that we would be there for each other and support one another in
anything and everything.
Why we couldn’t make each other happy was beyond me. We were so good for so long and then it seemed to all at once fall apart. Was it overnight or did it happen slowly over time? When did it stop? Did we see it coming but closed our eyes to it, too proud to accept our failure? Part of me believes it was our competitive spirit that kept us together for so long-no one wanted to admit to the other one that we were losing this game of marriage. No one wanted to give up first. It works well in poker, not so much with relationships.
“Excuse me, Miss, please move your seatback into the upright position. We are getting ready to land.”
Tia opens her eyes to find the flight attendant leaning over the woman sitting next to her with the child. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“We are getting ready to land. If you could move your seat upright?”
“Oh sure,” Tia says, reaching for the small button on the armrest. She moves the back of her seat up with the force of her body. She was so lost in her thoughts of Michael that she didn’t notice where she was, still on the plane, still so far away from Abby.
She glances out the window and takes in the approaching landscape. The hills, the vineyards, the red tiled houses. How long has it been, she asks herself. The kaleidoscope of memories returns with vivid images of her youth including the smell of wonderful cooking and the sounds of music under twinkling lights that hung under low-hanging tree branches in the backyard of a large stone inn.
“Such a long flight. I need to get there. Oh, Abby, why did you wait until now to tell me about all this? Why?”
The plane lands in Madrid and Tia takes the connecting flight to Santiago de Compostela in Galicia. She sighs. Another two hours of sitting on a plane anxiously waiting to land at her final destination. No, she realizes. It’s more like another two hours of worrying about Abby. She wishes she could say that the time will go by quickly but she knows it won’t. Too many questions float through her mind, too many memories haunt her. But soon enough, Tia is waiting for her luggage in the carousel of the Santiago de Compostela airport.