Nobody understood that better than me. “All the time,” I agreed.
Her shoulders rose with a deep inhale. “But it turned out, that was what I needed. Dad had given up on me early. Manning didn’t. He talked to me, not at me. He listened and cared about what I was thinking. At camp, he treated me so well, I let myself believe he was falling for me, too. Then that last night at campfire, when you snuck off with him—”
“You did?” Corbin pursed his lips at me and sat back. “Fuck.”
I did my best to look contrite, knowing Corbin wouldn’t like hearing something so out of character for me.
“It was like . . .” Tiffany continued. “Like I was starting to really like him and once again, you were getting everything.”
“So you married him,” I said.
“It’s probably easier for you to believe I didn’t love him,” she said quietly, “but I did. He was the only person who saw me, who treated me with any respect, even in my own family.”
“That’s not true,” I said. “I looked up to you, Tiffany. I tried to step in with Dad when I could. I feel like I lost a sister the day of your wedding.”
Crickets filled the next few moments of silence. Even the party inside seemed to quiet as Tiffany and I avoided each other’s gaze. “Then I guess that means I lost a sister, too,” she said.
Having Corbin there was less comforting than it normally would’ve been—and a whole lot embarrassing. When it came to Manning, he and I never went there, but I guess now he knew enough.
Finally, Tiffany got up. “I should get home. I have to work in the morning and it’s a long drive back.”
“You can stay here,” I offered.
“It’s fine. Congrats again on all this stuff.” She sounded tired. “I’ll be watching the show. It’s actually really good.”
There wasn’t anything I could say to take back what I’d done. I didn’t exactly want to jump to forgiveness, either. Tiffany had made mistakes, too. If she’d reacted maturely to anything, ever, we wouldn’t be in this situation. That didn’t mean I wanted her out of my life, though. She’d intentionally hurt me, but I wasn’t lacking in compassion like she thought. I understood her actions were less out of malice than fear. “You should come by the set some time.”
“I . . . would seriously love that,” she said.
I knew she would. Tiffany lived for that kind of stuff, and I was pretty sure the possibility of that was a small part of why she’d come tonight. It didn’t matter why, though. I was glad she’d made the effort.
As she picked up her bag, I stood. I went to hug her, but she wasn’t expecting it, and we did a back-and-forth maneuver while Corbin chuckled. I hugged her more tightly than I meant to.
“I still need time and distance,” she said, “but I . . . you haven’t, like, lost me. Not forever.”
I swallowed. Maybe I hadn’t been fair just now. Maybe Tiffany really had come to see me—and not just on TV. “Same here.”
Once she’d returned inside and Corbin and I were alone, I said, “I’m sorry you had to hear all that.”
He just shrugged, leaning on his knees as he laced his fingers together. “Yeah.”
“But I feel like she’s gotten more empathetic. Maybe it was going through the miscarriage. Or I guess I just haven’t seen her in a while, and we’ve both matured.”
He nodded at the ground. “Yeah.”
A moth fluttered around the overhead light. I was rambling. Corbin and I had talked about most things under the sun, but we rarely discussed love. Anything to do with Manning, or Corbin’s feelings for me, we pretended didn’t exist. The longer we sat that way, though, the harder it became to ignore the ebb of Corbin’s normally sunny disposition. “Is something wrong?” I asked.
He looked through the sliding glass door at Sean, who was checking out Tiffany’s ass as she walked away. “That guy, Lake? Really? In his crusty leather jacket, not understanding half of what’s going on around him?”
“It’s nothing,” I said. “Easy. Sean and I—we’re just having fun.”
It took a little bit for him to respond, but for Corbin I had time. I waited until eventually, his blue eyes found their way to mine. I started to smile but stopped, sensing this wasn’t a happy moment. “Why not me?” he asked.
I flinched, surprised only that he’d asked, not by the question itself. Even though I’d wondered the same thing many times, I only had one answer—the truth—and I wasn’t sure Corbin wanted to hear it. “Corbin . . .”
“That guy’s a loser. So are most of the guys you date. Why didn’t you ever give me a shot?”
Corbin and I had been on countless dinner dates and attended myriad events and parties together. We’d kissed, we’d fooled around, we’d slept in each other’s arms. He’d asked me out and he’d tried for more, but that was a long time ago. We’d become so much more since then. He knew it would never work between us. “You know why,” I said.
“Manning.” He stuck his tongue in his cheek and got a look like the ones Manning used to get over Corbin. “I never understood it. What was Tiffany talking about, sneaking out at camp? You were so, I don’t know, gullible back then. I knew you had a crush on him, but if I’d realized he was taking advantage of you—”
“Nothing happened while I was under eighteen,” I said. “New York was the first time.”
“After he was married to Tiffany.” He opened his hands, shaking his head. “Explain it to me, Lake. What do you see in him?”
I’d been wrong just now. It wasn’t jealousy I was seeing like I’d thought. Corbin just didn’t trust Manning, and I couldn’t fault him that. “I can’t put it into words,” I said.
He opened an arm toward the door. “So that guy in there, hitting on your sister—he’s the next best thing?”
“Not at all. He’s just nothing. We have a good time, he makes me laugh, and he leaves me alone.”
“I don’t get it. I really don’t. You could have anyone.”
Anyone? I wanted to say. Don’t you know I don’t want anyone? I want Manning. I pushed the thoughts away and scooted my chair closer to Corbin’s. “You asked why it wasn’t you?” I said. “Of course I thought about you and me a lot, especially after September eleventh.”
“Yeah,” he said. I didn’t need to explain what I meant—he’d lost not just colleagues but friends in the terrorist attacks, and it was an unspoken truth that it’d changed many of us.
But because I always wanted Corbin to know how much I cared about him, I did explain, even though I’d told him the story many times. “I remember every detail of that morning,” I said, taking Corbin’s hand. “I was seeing that guy Brandon from Chicago, and we’d been out late, so we were still sleeping when we got the call.”
“Your mom.”
I hesitated. I didn’t want to keep anything from Corbin anymore now that we’d started talking honestly about this area of our lives. “Actually no. I never told you, but someone else called first.”
“Who?” He glanced at my face, and then said, “Oh.”
Brandon had answered the phone, and a man on the other end of the line had asked for me. I’d picked up with a cheery “hello?”—none the wiser about what’d happened downtown.
“Lake,” was Manning’s response. Simple. One word. But my name from his mouth—it’d always had a certain kind of power over me.
“What’s wrong?” I’d asked him.
“I just needed to hear . . .” He’d paused and said, “You should call home.”
I’d held the receiver long after he’d gotten off the line, but the moment I’d hung up, the line had rung again. That time it was my mom and she’d been hysterical, ordering me to turn on the TV.
“For a split second,” I said to Corbin, “I couldn’t remember where you were.” My eyes filled up, and I blinked the tears away. “Panic completely wiped my brain. I started screaming for Val, and she ran into the bedroom. She hadn’t heard yet so when I asked her where you were, she thought I was g
oing crazy. ‘He left for San Francisco three days ago, you loon,’ she’d said. ‘You took him out to breakfast before the flight.’ When I told Val, she completely lost it, Corbin. I basically had to stop falling apart because she was freaking out so bad. She was inconsolable.”
Corbin rubbed his face. He’d heard this story, but not all of it.
I told him the part I’d been keeping to myself. “After the fear and panic and grief I felt that morning, I thought, maybe I do love Corbin. Maybe he’s the one.”
He sat back. “But?”
“I did love you. And I was attracted to you. That was never the issue. You know the truth deep down—you would’ve always been second best, Corbin. Always. The only person I love more than you is Manning. My feelings for him are immoveable—I know it in my gut. Nobody will ever replace him.”
He searched my eyes with his endless blue ones. They were rarely sad like now, and I couldn’t help noticing how beautiful they were despite that. Or maybe because of it. “Back then, I would’ve been fine with second best.”
“I love you too much to do that to you. You need a girl who looks at you, and . . . you’re her world, Corbin.” Her universe, her sky, her stars. Her Ursa Major. “She wasn’t me.”
He scrubbed his hands through his golden hair. “Yeah. I guess now you’re going to tell me you did me a favor rejecting me all those times.”
I couldn’t help laughing a little. “I’ll save that piece of wisdom for when you meet ‘the one.’”
“And what about you?” he asked.
I smiled sadly. “I already met him.”
“Your sister’s been divorced for like, over three years or something.” He picked up his cup from the table. “Have you seen him?”
I lifted my hair off my neck, warm under the patio light. “No,” I said, mustering as much nonchalance as I could. “It’s dumb. I thought, back then, you know, that Manning was . . . that we were . . .” Destined. I couldn’t even get through the sentence without my throat thickening. What was wrong with me? It’d been years and years of heartbreak and bad timing. How many times did the universe have to tell us this wasn’t right? “And I don’t know anymore. I don’t know if he and I were ever . . .”
“Ah, fuck,” Corbin said, wrinkling his eyebrows. I must’ve looked about to burst into tears, because he started to fidget. “This might be out of my league. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
I inhaled back the urge, shaking my head. “You didn’t.”
“It’s not dumb, Lake.” He put his ankle over his knee, resting his drink on his sneaker. “But would you take some advice from a reformed love-sick puppy?”
I failed to suppress a smile. “Sure.”
“Move on. I know it sounds obvious, but if you’re still pining for him years later, you’re not going to magically get over it. No matter how much you accomplish, a small part of you is holding back, don’t you think?”
I thought of what Corbin had said earlier this year about losing some of my fire after graduation. It was only now becoming clear to me that instead of accessing my pain over Manning as my professor had coached me to do, I’d buried it, and that’d hurt my ability to tune into my emotions. Maybe reality TV really was the best I could do, because Manning hadn’t just taken part of me with him when he’d left New York—he’d changed my DNA. He’d changed the dynamic of the city for me. His destruction had seeped into my career, my home, my heart, and even my innocence he’d been so hell-bent on preserving. I’d had to take the morning-after pill the same day he’d left. Flushing myself of him was a distinct kind of heartache I’d never forget.
“It’s like you’re waiting for him until you can be happy,” Corbin said. “But what’re you waiting for? It’s been years. Get closure if you need to, but then move yourself on.”
Move on. My hope for Manning and me had been holding strong for a decade, through the worst of it. What about his hope? Had he ever had it? If he hadn’t come for me by now, then maybe not. “I don’t think I wanted to get over him,” I said. “I really thought one day . . .”
“I know the feeling. It’s like—how could it not happen? But for most of us, it doesn’t.” He sipped his drink, then wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “I don’t believe he’s the only person who can make you happy. You can fall in love with someone else if you’re willing to try.”
Corbin was right—my love for Manning wasn’t dumb, but since the day I’d met him, it’d been getting in the way of everything else. It was time to give up and move myself on. I hated to cry in front of Corbin because he was so protective, but I never thought I’d have to admit I’d been wrong about Manning. I never thought I’d lose hope.
“I guess this is why you and I don’t talk about girl stuff.” Corbin reached out to thumb away some tears. “Hey, Val,” he yelled, beckoning for her through the kitchen window.
Val had held me through too many nights of crying over Manning, so for her sake, I pulled myself together. When she poked her head out a minute later, I practiced moving on, like Corbin had told me, and forced a smile with all my might. “We miss you,” I said.
She came onto the patio with a bottle of wine and some stacked plastic Solo cups. “I’m not going to toast you again,” she said to me. “I know you wanted to strangle me for it.”
“Completely true,” I teased.
“I thought I was helping you out when I recommended you for this project,” she said, separating the cups. “It seemed like a good opportunity. Was I wrong?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I have a lot of thinking to do about . . .” I glanced at Corbin. “Everything.”
Val nodded and filled up three drinks, placing one in front of each of us. When she took the chair Tiffany had vacated, I crossed my feet in her lap.
We sat that way, just the three of us, talking until the party died down.
Every once in a while, I’d catch myself looking up. The moon was full, but I wondered how long until I’d take in the night sky and feel anything other than empty.
23
Manning
2004
“Inquiring minds want to know,” I heard from behind me as I approached the end of aisle nine. “What does a mysterious man like Manning Sutter put in his shopping basket?”
I didn’t need to turn to see whose mind was inquiring. “A poor attempt at dinner,” I responded.
Martina Klausen was the town’s blonde beauty, recently divorced and swimming in money. Because of her straightforward German sensibility and appreciation for a good, strong piece of furniture, I’d indulged her flirting in the beginning. She was the only woman I knew here who didn’t beat around the bush too much or need her hand held, and for that reason, she made for a decent distraction from my thoughts.
She caught up with me, craning her neck to inspect the contents of my basket. “Meat, potatoes . . . and lots of beer. Could you be any more of a man? Are you going home to watch the fight or what?”
“I might be if I had a TV.”
“But how do you keep entertained in the evenings?” She winked, pushing her cart alongside me. “How about I come make you dinner?”
With my basket in one hand, I took a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of my shirt and shook one free. I slid it out with my lips. “Not tonight,” I muttered.
“You need vegetables. I can make ’em just right so they don’t even taste healthy.”
I stuck the cigarette behind my ear until I could light it on the drive home. That simple gesture reminded me of Lake, how I used to wait to smoke until she was out of breathing distance. That wasn’t anything new. Lots reminded me of Lake, especially around Big Bear. Some days, all I felt was the sting of loss and of those memories.
Tiffany and I had gotten divorced almost four years ago and even though Charles had offered to keep me on at Ainsley-Bushner, I’d left my job and moved to Big Bear as soon as I was able. It’d been the last place I’d felt at peace. Up here, there was tons of space for a workshop, and when I shut
down the house at night, I could see the stars, every one of them, just miles and miles of endless universe and me.
I fell back to Earth when I recognized Pearl Jam on the grocery store’s loudspeakers. The song wasn’t “Black,” which made me think of Lake every time, but the opening line of “Last Kiss” reminded me of her nonetheless. Was there no escaping her?
Grumbling to myself, I got in line at the cashier while Martina followed, talking about the benefits of cutting out carbs, the latest fad. I likely would’ve missed the glossy tabloid covers if I hadn’t been trying to avoid Martina, but as soon as my eyes hit Us Weekly, I felt like I’d been sucker punched. In the lower left-hand corner, the picture was small, but there was no mistaking it—Lake, smiling at something in the distance with a man’s arm around her shoulders. A circle with a question mark blocked his face, but I knew the answer. It was Corbin. The headline underneath just rubbed salt in the wound.
Who will win Lake’s heart? Our predictions on pg. 28
I’d followed Lake’s career enough to know she was on a hit reality show. I hadn’t seen it. Once the commercials had started to air, and it became clear Corbin would be a regular in Lake’s love life, I’d gotten rid of my TV. It was hard enough that so much in this town reminded me of her, but now there she was, beaming at me in checkout lane three. Like old times, my neck and chest heated with Corbin’s possessive embrace on her. What did Corbin have to do with this anyway? He was a big shot in New York last I’d heard, and had no business in Hollywood.
Martina touched my elbow. “Manning?”
I startled. “What?”
“Are you okay?” she asked as the cashier snapped her gum at me.
I unpacked my groceries onto the conveyor belt, glancing at the rag. At Lake. Her smile leapt off the page. She looked happy and that was the thing that both soothed and killed me. She was in a better place like I’d wanted. Maybe all along, she could’ve been happy with Corbin.
Something in the Way: A Forbidden Love Saga: The Complete Collection Page 79