by J. Cafesin
Face growled, low and menacing. It felt as if my heart stopped until I saw my dog still curled on the blanket I'd laid on the floor, twitching and growling in sleep, caught up in a dream.
"Face! Knock it off." I released the breath I'd been holding as the dog looked up at me, bewildered, then curled back into herself and closed her eyes.
I considered smoking another joint to put me to sleep but thought better of it. I'd be out of weed before the New Year. I'd promised myself I'd quit using then, nix it from my story. When I got back from Colorado I'd put another ad in the paper. It was a numbers game, after all. And to improve my odds of finding someone to be with that I respected, I was going to have to become someone I could respect. Drug-free, excuse-free, come the New Year I'd find more work, get the money together to move out of L.A. and up to the Bay, regardless of my mother's berating protestations I'd be abandoning the family moving away. Maybe starting anew would put me on the path to finally finding my knight, though somewhere deep inside my intuition insisted my perspective wasn't yet quite right— still looking for someone to save me.
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Chapter 12
In the light of day the glass doors offered a spectacular view of the 14,000 ft craggy rim of the snow-capped Rockies. The magnificent granite mountains sloped down to the tiny hamlet of Breckenridge in the small valley below.
While waiting for the water to boil and admiring the grandeur of the view I noticed the three pronged head of the television cord on the hardwood floor and plugged it in. The kettle whistled in the kitchen. I made myself a cup of tea, then took the warm mug back into the living room, sat on the couch, picked up the remote and clicked on the TV.
Angelic voices swelled and a large church choir dressed in white robes belted out a hymn. It was a commercial for Midnight Mass at the Crystal Cathedral. I clicked through the 35 channels of cable and came upon It's A Wonderful Life, one of my all-time favorites. George was walking Mary home, promising her the moon. It seemed the only desirable men left were in the movies. Maybe that's the only place they'd ever been. I sipped my tea and tried to shed that reality, let the movie sweep me in. And it did, for the most part, relating to George's anguish when he wanted to end it all, and felt his torment when he was nobody, when he didn't exist.
I looked around the empty house. I really was invisible.
My camera case was on the pine table in front of me. I pulled a joint and smoked it and continued to watch TV after the movie ended, until I was high enough to hear my creative muse yelling at me to get off the damn couch and do something. I got my Nikon, called Face, and we went for a hike in the patchwork snow.
It was thirty degrees outside, a hot spell for winter up there. I was comfortably warm in a hooded sweatshirt and jeans, hiking boots and my leather jacket. The air was crisp and thin at two miles up. Face bound after squirrels and into piles of snow. Every few minutes she'd come looking for me, rocket ears straight up, big almond eyes shining with delight, tongue hanging out over bright white canines. I took a few shots of her for fun, then came to a clearing and focused on the panorama of mountains across the valley.
It was close to noon, the angle of the sun making the peeks look painted against a sheet of saturated blue. I'd been doing serious photography since my college days, long enough to know I'd never capture the depth of field in the massive granite slabs, or the mammoth slope of the mountain with the sunlight stripping shadows and flattening the scene. I took a couple shots anyway, then changed from wide angle to a telephoto lens and focused on the flora's colorful arrays peeking through the white patches of snow.
A couple hours later I was back in the isolated cabin with Face, the darkness descending outside and in. A white Trimline phone sat on the counter that divided the small kitchen from the living room.
Pick up the phone and call Lee. Beg forgiveness, promise to consider more than just friendship and invite him up to be with me. I flashed on scene after scene in my head, imagined exploring Estes Park and Telluride together, places I'd never venture alone in the Rockies in the mid-winter. I pictured laughing around a table in a cozy bistro with Chris and Rick, or making some elaborate meal with them and inviting a few of their friends. Intimate, joyous, sharing, caring, like a Hallmark Holiday Special.
The sun was set but the sky was still lit in blues and purples. I dreaded the evening of being the odd one out— an obligation and distraction from the one and only romance Chris had ever had, that I was aware of anyway. I sighed heavily, then got a joint from my camera case and lit it as I sat on the couch and clicked on the TV. And after a while the urgent need to call Lee left me.
I met up with Chris and Rick at Tiffany's a couple hours later. Almost a repeat of the previous evening except with just the two of them. We stayed in the bar for an hour, then Rick suggested we migrate into the hotel restaurant for dinner. With no legitimate excuse to beg off, I agreed.
Chris encapsulated the history of our friendship to Rick throughout dinner as if she'd never spoken of me to him before. In the small booth, over our tomato bisque in the dim diner, she explained in detail the flat we shared in Athens and the summer college program we attended there. She described learning Tavli together from the old man, and jokingly chided Rick for refusing to learn to play. She told him of our travels through most of Europe together and turned to me often with, "Do you remember..."
For the most part I did, though I wasn't all that interested in reminiscing. The restaurant was casual, the soup delicious, their company pleasant enough, but every time they snuggled against each other or exchanged a private joke I had to look away. I never dreamt Chris would end up with someone before me. By her own admission, she was a wallflower, and even she assumed she'd always be single. Watching her across the table sitting next to Rick, she seemed like a different person than the one I'd known the last thirteen years. No longer angry, she seemed content, even pretty. Her wiry hair seemed softer with the fine strands escaping the braid. Her head was still rather small to her body but her eyes seemed larger, and brighter.
I was consumed with jealousy again. Like most every other friend and family member, Chris sat across from me with her new beau's arm wrapped around her shoulders, poised to live happily ever after. Only I was still alone. Loser. Old maid. Nothing, to no one. And a flash of panic I'd always be single made me flush with heat. Sweat dripped from my forehead down the sides of my face.
I excused myself and went to the bathroom, filled the sink with cold water then stuck my face in and held it there. The parade of men I'd met the past few years flashed by. Most wore a bullshit bravado though they were balding, with soft bellies and mediocre careers, and satisfied watching TV all night after being served dinner. The very few with any promise, the smart, successful, active, attractive guys who sparked my interest initially, turned out to be mainly narcissists, more interested in how I reflected them, than in me. And then I flashed on Lee, and wondered where he fit in the pantheon. It didn't really matter. He, too, was now a memory.
My lungs burned and I straightened, gasping in air, looked in the mirror and flipped myself off. After a moment's hesitation I got some paper towels, dried off my face and then looked back in the mirror. My hair was a mess. My eyes seemed dark, and sad. I looked serious, somber, verging on morose. It was no wonder I was never any good at winning friends and influencing people. My parents were right, of course. Coveted women were sparkly and light, but I wasn't, never had been. "I hate you!" I practically yelled at myself, then splashed water from the sink onto the mirror. It dripped over my reflection, streaking down the mirror like tears.
A beleaguered mother pushing a stroller with a wailing infant entered the bathroom and compelled me to leave. She put her baby on the plastic pull down changing table as I wiped my eyes and face on my shirtsleeve and went out to the short hallway. And as irritating as that screeching child was, I still envied that mom for possessing the life I still sought.
I saw Rick and Chris kissing as I approached the booth. Eyes close
d, they were lost in each other and didn't see me. I turned around and walked back towards the bathrooms, then paced the narrow hallway. I wanted to be anywhere but there. Chris had invited me out of habit this year, like a mercy fuck. My fading buzz was all that kept me from cracking up. My breathing was shallow and fast. My heart raced, reverberated in my throat. It felt as if I was becoming transparent, like it did in the laundromat a few days earlier, like if I disappeared no one would notice, or if they did, they wouldn't really care. I stared at the payphone on the wall, my brain searching for someone, anyone who might miss me, then picked up the receiver, punched in my calling card number and called my answering machine praying for someone who did, even if only my mother. It picked up on the first ring indicating I had a message. I fumbled in my jacket pocket for the small tone box then pressed the button to the receiver to cue the message.
"Hi. It's me. Lee." He paused. I gasped. "I miss you. I miss playing racquetball with you. And backgammon, and sharing great talks over meals. I miss our weekend adventures, and exploring new restaurants together. I miss your insights, and perceptions. I miss our connection." He sighed. "I've been thinking about it, about what you said. And I've come to the conclusion you're right. I'm probably not ready for the relationship you want right now. Clearly, I have some things to work out first. I hope we can stay friends and maybe even help each other get some of our shit together." He paused again. "Or maybe you'd prefer just racquetball and helping each other stay in shape. Either way, I'd love to see ya. Call me if you want to play some ball, or if you just want to talk." He paused for so long I thought he hung up, and I waited for the beep at the end of the message but it didn't come. "Hope to hear from ya." Then beep.
I stood there with the phone to my ear wanting more. My heart pounded hard and echoed in my chest. Lee was back! He had gallantly returned, once again rescuing me from the abyss.
Watch out! echoed from somewhere deep inside.
Fuck off, my childish rejoinder to the voice of reason.
"If you'd like to make a call, please hang up," said a woman's recorded voice, reminding me to hang up, and breathe.
I tried to come up with an excuse to exit the scene for a private setting to call Lee back on my way to rejoin Chris and Rick. They smiled at me with my return, but I knew it didn't really matter to either of them that I was there. But instead of envious, I suddenly felt glad for her, glad she'd finally found somebody.
On the way back to the cabin, and even while dialing Lee's number I rehearsed what to say. I'd let him know how glad I was to hear from him, how much our friendship meant to me, how much I too enjoyed our time together. I'd confess how much I missed him, how badly I wanted to be with him, assure him I too felt our connection—
The fourth ring his recorder came on, and deflated me. "This is Lee. Leave a message." Beep.
"Hi. It's me, Rachel. Got your message." My mind went blank. "Glad to hear from you. I'm calling from Colorado, a tiny town way up in the Rockies in the middle of nowhere. I'm staying with my friend, Chris, well, not exactly with her." I glanced around the empty house. "It's cold up here. Lonely followed me up this year. I wish you were here." I felt stupid I'd said it and wished I could take it back. "Oh well. Hope you're having fun in the warm L.A. sun. Love to talk." I gave him the number at the cabin, suddenly stuck for what else to say then added, "Well, take care. Hope we talk soon." I hung up, and waited. When he still hadn't returned my call by 1:00a.m. I went to bed, but it took an hour on that to fall asleep with my mind cycling over his message and my response, trying to figure out what I said wrong to chase him away again.
---
I was in the kitchen making tea and watching the morning news when the phone rang.
"Hi, it's me." Lee.
"Hi." I smiled.
"I'm glad you called back." He paused. "I wasn't sure you would. I'm glad you did."
"Me too."
"I miss you."
"Me too."
He gave a short laugh. "How's Colorado?"
"Cold." I sipped my tea and stared out the glass doors at the clouds pouring over the rim of the Rockies, intermittently blocking the sun. "And lonely." It just slipped out, but then, I didn't have to wear a face with Lee.
"I'm sorry. For me too. It's damn lonely here without you. I didn't realize you were leaving so soon. I thought you were going up there for Christmas."
"I was. But after our last night together I didn't feel like staying in L.A."
"Sorry about that. I really do want to stay friends, Ray. I hope we can still play racquetball, even do dinners, hang out and play Tavli when you get back here. Are you staying up there through New Year's?"
"That was the plan. I'll be with Chris at her parents in Delta through Christmas. They throw a holiday party for the entire town from Christmas day to a few days before New Years. We're down there through the weekend, then coming back up here for a small New Years eve party.” I flashed back to last New Year's eve at Frankie's party watching everyone around me embrace at midnight, and then imagined a replay this year with Chris and Rick kissing while I'm standing there. I really had to get out of here before New Year's. “What are you doing for the holidays?”
"I'm thinking of going up to my sister's after Christmas, ring in the New Year with her and Arlene.” He paused, and I thought I heard him take a hit off a joint. I scoffed silently, but with humor at my friend's 'indulgence,' getting high first thing in the morning. “How about you change your plans and meet me in Oregon, hang out with us for New Year's?"
He'd read my mind again, his casual offer saving me from another New Year's essentially alone. I couldn't wipe the coquettish smile off my face to save my life.
"If you leave there by the 30th, you can make it to Oregon by the 31st and we can ring in the New Year together."
Yes, almost escaped my lips, but but the better part of me interceded. "Look Lee, I'd love to join you and your family in Oregon to ring in the New Year. But I meant what I said last Friday night. I'm quitting weed at the beginning of the new year for good. Forever. I'm gonna practice living healthy, model restraint— discipline not addiction, and finding a man who does the same. As much as I love being with you, spending time together, I don't want to hurt you down the line. I don't see a future for us beyond friendship."
He sighed audibly. "Look, Ray. I know what you said the other night is right. I don't like it, but I know it's right. I have some shit to work out before I get seriously involved with anyone. I just got divorced. And I'm not ready to make another life commitment."
"I am, though...just not with you." I wasn't trying to hurt him, but his response seemed a non sequitur to my assertion.
"I know." His protracted silence seemed to suck the air from the room through the wire. And it hurt me knowing I'd just hurt him.
“I'm sorry.”
“I know. But I get it. And I'd rather be a part of your life than not. I don't want to lose you, Rachel. You show me a path to who I want to be. I don't want to blow off our friendship."
"Me neither." But trepidation lingered, still wondering if he was really hearing me.
"Meet me at my sister's for New Year's. You can stay sleep in the solarium like she suggested. I'll take the couch in the living room." I heard him exhaled, pictured him blowing out a controlled thin stream of smoke, his punk grin lingering. "Come! It'll be fun. I promise. Meet me up there. I'm calling Colleen and telling her you're coming. The girls will be thrilled."
I pulled a joint and sparked it as I sat on the couch with my tea. We discussed places to see in Oregon while I watched the TV. I didn't care if Lee heard me getting high, especially since he was. I wore no facade with good friends, since they accepted me with my frailties, as I did them. Other then emotional support, in all likelihood their indiscretions, addictions or otherwise, would never directly impact me, or the family I hoped to create.
The morning news was on most every station, from local to CNN, several showing clips of Rodney King getting beaten then stills
of his battered mug shots, and exaggerated reports of the “significant increase in drive-by shootings.” And I was glad to be far from L.A., away from the insanity there, nestled in the Rockies and chatting with Lee, a million miles from Lonely.
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Chapter 13
I spent Friday writing the short story of the genie and the gang bangers. I gave the tale a happy ending, which was unusual for me, usually focused on the dark. But the moral of the story, as all fairy tales need one, was that the choices we make lead to the life we live, and that a happy ending really is in our control.
In the evening I met up with Chris and Rick and a few of their workmates at Tiffany's. I relaxed into the casual exchange while they downed gins and beers. After their cronies took off, I joined Chris and Rick at Rick's flat. Rick went directly to bed. A hotel maintenance worker, he was on-call at 4:00 the next morning. Chris and I played Tavli late into the night, since, as an accountant she had weekends off and the holiday week to come. I didn't mention leaving before New Year's, but, truth was she most likely didn't care if I took off. I didn't tell her about going to Oregon for New Year's because I wasn't sure if I was yet, since staying in Colorado may be a better choice then getting back involved with Lee.
As excited as I was to see him, be with him, I felt apprehensive. While Lee provide me the ground I'd been missing with his attention alone, he wasn't exactly the greatest influence. After vacation, back in L.A., I'd have to limit our time together to racquetball, cycling the strand, productive activities that were cheap, or free. It was time to stop accumulating debt I couldn't reciprocate right now, and never, really, in the way I knew he wanted. Come the New Year I was done with weed, gorging on extravagant meals, unwittingly leading Lee on by accepting his invitations. It was time for me to make it on my own, and become who I wanted to be with. And that wasn't Lee, knowing he'd continue using, compulsively consuming, and modeling the addict I knew I had to abandon to actualize the life I still hoped for.