Startled as the driver gunned the engine when the light turned green, Mia took a deep breath to gather herself and try to shake Schooner away before she entered Chanterelle. Here she was, in downtown Manhattan, meeting her boyfriend on Valentine’s Day at an amazing restaurant in a funky, cool neighborhood. She never could have even envisioned her life today back when she was with Schooner. But that damn street sign. Her therapist would say, “Clearly, one of your triggers, Mia. So, what are your coping strategies here?”
I’m going to eat a five course tasting menu, have some delicious wine, and Valentine’s Day sex with my boyfriend — that is how I’m going to cope, Mia screamed at her therapist in her head. But still, as she got out of the cab and stood on the sidewalk in front of Chanterelle, she needed to take a moment to breathe and to shake off Schooner’s ghost. But he wasn’t leaving and she wondered where he was, what he was doing, what he looked like now and if he was happy. Standing on the sidewalk in the cold night air she spoke to him in her head.
You haven’t been here in a while. A long while. You really show up at the craziest times. Yes, I know I saw that street sign. I’m never down in this neighborhood so I totally forgot about N. Moore Street. I’m sure it being Valentine’s Day doesn’t help. And that means two days ago was your birthday. I hope it was good. Ok, you have to go now. I can’t take you into this restaurant with me. Go back to whatever box it is that I keep you in.
Shaking her shoulders as if to physically disengage from his touch, she closed her eyes again just for a second, overwhelmed by the memory of how much she had loved this man. Have a great Valentine’s Day, Schooner. Keep forgiving, she told herself and reached for the door handle to Chanterelle.
Michael was already seated at the table, his smile immediate and contagious, catapulting her ghost from the physical plane. Ever the gentleman, Michael stood and kissed Mia, pulling out her chair for her.
“Have you been waiting long?”
He shook his head no. “You look beautiful tonight.”
“Thank you.” Mia smiled, “And no. Seth did not dress me.”
Mia perused the handwritten menu, “What to do. What to do. Am between the Venison Carpaccio and the Foie Gras appetizer.”
Michael smiled, “Me too. You get one and I’ll get one and we’ll share.”
Mia looked at Michael with a big smile. “You make everything so easy.” Taking her hand, he brought it to his lips. “You are so romantic tonight, Mr. Portman.”
“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” he raised his eyebrows at Mia.
The waiter came over for a drink order. “Cocktail first?” Michael asked.
Mia nodded, “Yes, I’ll have a French 75.”
“Make that two and if you can bring a bottle of Taittinger ‘Comte de Champagnes’ after our appetizers.”
The waiter appeared a few minutes later with their drinks.
She held up her glass to Michael, “Happy Valentine’s Day,” and they clinked glasses. Mia could immediately feel the alcohol slam her bloodstream and the jolt felt good. She knew she needed food and soon.
As they finished their appetizers, Michael nodded to the waiter and he appeared tableside, linen napkin draped over his arm to uncork the bottle of Taittinger’s. He popped the cork and handed it to Michael, who put it in his pocket. Filling the champagne flutes in front of Mia and Michael, he quickly receded from view.
Raising his glass to Mia, Michael smiled, “When I moved back to New York, I really felt adrift. I just didn’t know where I belonged. Was it London? Was it New York? I really felt disenfranchised and when Charles invited me to his New Year’s party, it was the last thing I wanted to do. There was so much hoopla and hype around Y2K and I just wasn’t feeling it. I walked into his brownstone that night and it was like stepping back in time, like I had entered the movie set of Casablanca. And you know what, I was Rick. I really was. This guy who seemingly was doing ok, but in reality was totally detached from the world around him and from his own feelings. And when you walked out into the garden I thought, what is she doing here? I’d seen you throughout the evening working the room.”
Mia nodded and laughed. She had been working the crowd hard that night and it was exhausting.
Michael continued, “You’d been at the center of everything all night and here you were and the look on your face said that you just wanted to escape, and I thought that maybe you wanted to escape from yourself.”
With those last words, Mia could feel the tears welling up in her eyes and she nodded.
“And this woman who had appeared so happy floating around all evening was really but a finely crafted facade. You were not happy and I could feel that as I watched you standing there with your eyes closed, and you looked as if you were pleading to the night for something, anything. And Mia, it broke my heart. And in that moment, I didn’t feel adrift any longer. All I wanted to do was see if there was something I could do to make it better for you. Make the happy person you were pretending to be a reality for you. Or at least I knew I wanted to try.”
Listening to Michael’s words, Mia was speechless. His vast capacity for loving and caring was overwhelming her.
“And I’m glad you’ve let me try, because the last year has been amazing. Every day, just knowing you’re here, that you are a part of my life, that you are my life, has been that anchor and I’m not adrift anymore.”
Mia realized the restaurant was quiet. Dead silence as Michael reached into his jacket pocket. For a moment she thought he was going to pull out the cork from the champagne bottle, but as the adrenaline blasted through her veins, she could feel her face grow hot and it was suddenly hard to breathe. It was as if she were wearing a tight, wool turtleneck on a ninety degree day. And the thought running through her head was, “The exit is behind me.”
There was a box in Michael’s hand and she never actually heard the words, “Will you marry me?” because she was so close to passing out that the sense of sound had already retreated. She could see the apprehensive look on everyone’s face in the restaurant. They were all staring. Waiting. Eager. Breathe, just breathe, Mia reminded herself. Oh God, I want to run, she thought. I don’t want this. Aren’t we happy the way we are? Why does everyone think this is what is needed to be happy?
The thought of embarrassing this sweet man in front of a restaurant full of people made the tears start to stream. She couldn’t humiliate him that way. The thought of hurting him, ever, was agonizing.
His smile had fully reached his eyes as he looked at her with so much love. Mia took a moment to just look into his eyes, calming herself with the anchor and tranquility residing deep within this special, special man. A moment in his eyes brought a true smile to her face and without saying a word, Michael slipped the ring onto Mia’s finger.
Cheers went up throughout Chanterelle. Mia’s hearing began to return as people began to congratulate them. The owners, David and Karen Waltuck, appeared tableside offering their best wishes and plates with a beautiful amuse bouche of prosciutto, foie gras and fig on brioche toast.
Michael pulled Mia to him and they kissed, the taste of champagne and salty tears mingling. And in that moment, the apprehension disappeared as he was saying, “I love you” into her mouth.
“Well, do you like the ring?” Michael was beaming.
Mia hadn’t even looked down at it yet and as she held out her left hand, the diamonds sparkled like a prism through her tears. “It’s beautiful. It’s really beautiful.” And it was. At the center sat a cushion cut diamond surrounded by small round diamonds in an antique platinum setting.
“Really? You like it?” Michael pushed her curls from her eyes.
Mia nodded. Reaching out, she put her hand on his cheek, brushing it with her thumb. “How long have you had this planned?”
“New Year’s Eve 2000,” his smile was contagious.
“No, seriously.”
Michael laid his face in Mia’s hand. “Seriously. New Year’s Eve 2000. I knew when you walked out into
the garden that I wanted to spend my life making you happy.”
Tears fell freely down Mia’s cheeks at those words. Michael Portman’s sweet love and affection did make her happy. She knew on New Year’s Eve 2000 that he was a special man, a very special man. And in the thirteen and a half months that had passed, Mia learned how very special he truly was.
Lifting his champagne glass in a toast to her, “Here’s looking at you, Kid.”
Mia smiled and hoped that her and Michael’s story would have a happier ending than Rick and Ilsa’s.
Chapter Thirty-nine
Mia was on the phone when Michael let himself into her apartment. She waved and smiled as he put down his briefcase and took off his overcoat, scarf and suit jacket.
He was loosening his tie as Mia said, “Ok, I’ll tell him. Love you too, Mom.”
Smiling at her as she hung up the phone, “So, what did Lois have to say? Has she picked out a date for us yet?” Michael was chuckling at the thought.
Mia stood there with a tense expression on her face.
“Did you tell her we got engaged?”
“No.” Mia closed her eyes.
“Wow. What’s going on? Why haven’t you told your parents yet?” Mia could see and feel the tension eclipse in Michael’s eyes.
Walking over to the couch and sitting down, Mia reached out a hand to Michael to come sit next to her.
“What’s going on, Mia.”
Looking down for a moment to collect her thoughts, Mia took a deep breath and slowly blew it out. “I am really happy with the way things have been between us — with the way things are. I love what we have, Michael. I do,” looking earnestly into his eyes, “but I don’t know that I want to be married.”
“Are you afraid? Overwhelmed? Tell me what you’re feeling.”
“I feel like I’m choking.”
Michael’s eyebrows knit together, “You feel that I’m smothering you?”
“No. And that’s kind of the whole point. I think what we have is perfect. I wouldn’t change a thing about it.” Seeing the hurt on his face as he was trying to understand her position was painful for Mia to watch. She was hurting him. And that was devastating and she knew in her gut that by the time this conversation was over, they would both be decimated. The train had left the station and there was no turning back now as it sped towards its wreckage.
“I thought we wanted the same things — to build a life together, a family. Did I dream this whole thing?”
“I do want a life together,” Mia nervously played with the fringes on a burgundy Scalamandré throw pillow. “Honestly, I’m not ready to think about a family and I don’t know how I’ll feel in the future. I like kids and I think that someday I might like to have a family, but I think I’d also be ok if I never had kids.”
Mia watched as Michael absorbed her words. He looked as if he’d been sucker punched. “So, are you telling me you don’t want to be engaged?” and before she could answer, “Or are you telling me that you don’t want to be engaged to me?”
Taking his hand in both of hers, “I don’t want to promise you what I don’t know if I’m capable of giving you.”
Shaking his head in disbelief, “Capable or just don’t want to?”
Mia looked down. She wished she had the answers to why just the thought of committing to this wonderful man, a man she loved and loved being with, caused her stomach to knot.
“Wow.” Michael ran a hand through his hair. He’d just been blown out of the water. “Well Mia, I know what I want. I want to be married. I want a family. I want to coach our kids’ sports teams. I want to take them on family vacations and make memories that we talk about for years. And I want to do that with you. But if you don’t want to do that with me, there is no point in either of us wasting each other’s time any longer.”
Disengaging his hand from Mia’s, he stood and walked out of the room. Mia sat there. Stunned. She had not been prepared for the course the conversation had taken. Both she and Michael had blindsided each other.
Coming back into the room with a packed duffle bag, Michael said, “I think I’ve got everything. If there’s anything I’ve forgotten, just toss it.” Picking up his suit jacket off the chair, he put it on.
“Michael,” she could feel the panic beginning to rise. The anchor was being reeled in.
“What, Mia?” His tone was a clipped blend of hurt and anger.
“I don’t want … ”
“What don’t you want? What do you want? Do you have any idea?” Anger springing from hurt was becoming the victorious emotion.
“I don’t want this to be it. I don’t want us to end.” She could no longer hold back the tears.
“Well, this is it.” Despite the anger in his words, she could see the pain in his eyes.
“Ok then,” and she slipped the ring off her finger. Walking to him, she took his hand, placing the ring in his palm and closing his fingers over it.
“This is yours.”
“Don’t be gallant. If I can’t keep up my end of the promise it doesn’t belong with me.”
Nodding, he turned and walked out of her apartment without another word.
Mia stood for a long time staring at the door. Hoping to hear a knock, wanting desperately for him to come back through that door with a solution. But there was no solution. What he wanted she couldn’t give him, and she knew that he was right to break it off and walk away. He needed to find someone who would give him everything he wanted. Everything he deserved. And she hated herself for not being the one.
Crawling into bed with her clothes on, Mia could not shake one thing that Michael had said to her. Was she not capable of successfully committing in a relationship or did she just not want to commit to him? And if it was the latter, what the hell was wrong with her?
Chapter Forty
Another shitty spring, Mia mused nightly, as she walked home from work at ungodly hours. The Trade Centers seemed to follow her like stalkers, always there, and she could not help but look at them and try to figure out if Michael’s light was still on. Was he burying himself in work the way she was? Or had he found someone really great who could love him back the way he deserved to be loved?
In the mornings, the stalkers were still there and as she walked to work, she couldn’t help but wonder if he was at his desk already wrapping up with the traders overseas or in the gym working out.
Telling Lois of their breakup had been painful and Mia felt as if she’d dealt her mother the ultimate disappointing blow and yes, she was the ultimate in disappointing daughters.
Even Seth had expressed disappointment, “BBC, White Bread treats you like a queen. This past year is the happiest I’ve ever seen you since the day we met. He gives you a big, gorgeous rock and you dump him. Your mother is right, you know. You’re going to be a Spinster BBC.”
Mia’s response, “Have I told you to go fuck yourself lately, Princess.”
“I would if I could and then you’d never see my chic ass at work.”
It had been over two months and there had been no contact between her and Michael. Charles had been in Spain for much of that time putting a security team together for a modeling agency out of Barcelona, which had limited most of their contact to emails. Although she missed him and their almost daily calls, Mia was glad that Charles was out of the country so that he didn’t feel like he was in the middle of something between two close friends. Had he been in town, Mia feared she would have been pumping him for info about Michael and that would have put a strain on their friendship.
It was a Tuesday morning and Mia was reviewing campaigns prior to the weekly Tuesday afternoon staff meeting when she heard Seth talking a little too loudly, “Yeah, well good luck with that.”
Mia looked up as Charles Sloan was entering her office. He closed the door behind him and came and sat down across from her.
Surprised, Mia greeted him. “Hey, you’re back. How are you? Were you in the neighborhood?”
Shaking his hea
d no, “You look like shit. I’m surprised Seth lets you get away with looking like that. When was the last time you ate or slept?”
“This morning and last night. And by the way, welcome home.” Mia wondered why the hostile vibe.
“Mia, I have not seen you look this shitty since,” he stopped to think, “years ago when that asshole drug dealer was living down the hall from you and you were going through a very messed up stage in your life.”
“Thanks, Charles. It’s great to see you too. Ok, so I’m sure you didn’t come here to tell me what an abomination I am.”
“I saw Michael last night, and with the exception that he is actually still combing his hair, he looked mighty similar to you. He’s dropped weight, dark circles under his eyes. He’s pretty fucking miserable, Mia.”
Sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest, “I’m sorry to hear that, Charles. I really am. I don’t like the thought of Michael hurting. I really don’t.”
“So, what’s the story Mia? You just don’t love him?”
“That’s not true. I do love him, Charles. I do.”
“Are you not in love with him?” Charles was in no nonsense mode and Mia was beginning to feel as if she was being cross-examined.
“I think if you’re going to marry someone you ought to be crazy in love with them.”
“And you weren’t crazy in love with Michael?”
Mia shook her head. “Not as crazy as I should have been.”
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