by TB Markinson
Legging after Annie, I found her on a bench not too far away. I dropped onto the wooden seat next to her.
“I’m sorry I spit on you.” Her voice was tiny.
“A first, I have to admit.”
“I…” She studied her folded hands in her lap. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
I put an arm over her shoulder. “Tell me how I can help.”
She rested her head on my chest. “You’re the last person who can, apparently. That’s hard for me to accept.”
I squeezed her closer. “I hate this.”
“Me too.”
“I never meant—”
She reached up, putting her fingers on my lips. “Don’t say anything, please. I may not be able to stop the impulse to spit or hit you.” She laughed, sort of.
I nodded.
“Can you just sit here with me for a bit?” she asked.
It was a sleepy Sunday morning and not too many were out. “Anything you need.”
She put a hand on my thigh. “And not say things like that, please.”
I sighed, wanting to ask how we’d gotten to this point? Her busting into my home? Screaming in the car? My wanting to hold her in my arms but not being able to without sending the wrong message? Never did I think Annie and I would be in this situation. And, it was Annie who was suffering the most.
“I want to tell you something, but I need you to sit here. Don’t look at me. Don’t speak. Just listen.”
I sensed her eyes on me. Another C line train trundled past us.
I nodded.
“Thank you.” Annie sucked in a mouthful of air, slowly releasing it. Sucking in and releasing several tinier breaths and wiggling her arms about. This was the routine she used to psyche me out when we went bowling. I’d always loved her showmanship. The camaraderie. The fun. Now, I was scared.
“I think I’ve always been in love with you. Ever since elementary school. Of course, I didn’t know it then, but looking back, I’m sure of it. Not that I ever pursued you. Or even wanted you to know. Not until this summer.”
She stopped, and I wondered if that was all she had to get off her chest. It took effort not to turn my head to study her profile. Her dainty nose. The splattering of freckles on her cheeks.
“I don’t even know how I realized it. Or why. Do you remember the day at Fenway when that woman picked you up right in front of me?”
I bobbed my head, still staring straight ahead.
“I wanted to smash her in the head with my beer. Never before had I felt that way. I tried to convince myself I wanted to because I thought the person rude. Not to mention not good enough for you.” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her wave her hand. “I knew you didn’t think anything of her besides a good time. And if I’m honest, I think that’s all the girl wanted. Also, I knew deep down you weren’t lying about needing material for your story. This knowledge rattled around in my head. What was the big deal? I was never the type to get in a friend’s way if there was a chance to score.” She laughed. “And goodness knows, you’ve helped me hook up with women before we complicated things…” She paused, her shoulders lifting up and down with each intake and exhale of breath. “Do you remember the time we did the Maverick and Goose routine on karaoke night?” Her voice was shaky. “Both of us went home with someone that night.” She sighed, placing her hand on my thigh once again.
For several moments, we sat side by side, breathing in sync, not speaking.
“But that day at Fenway, I couldn’t get it out of my head. And then Roger invited me to Sunday dinner. I’d convinced myself you put him up to it. Sunday dinner, to you, is holy. I used to think it was a waste to spend that much time with your family. Again, I’ve figured out I was jealous that you’re so close to yours. My dad lives in Ireland. My mom is in New York with a new husband and his young kids. La-di-da.” She emphasized the words with the universal so what hand gesture.
I wasn’t positive, but I was fairly sure she swiped tears off her cheek. Although I was breaking her rules, I squeezed her hand, which still rested on my leg. She squeezed back.
“I really wanted to be a part of your life. Not just because I’m lonely. I really do love you.” Her voice quivered.
I closed my eyes, unwilling to show how the emotion in her words and tone touched me.
Annie knew me better than most. “Look at me, please.”
Slowly, I cranked my neck, facing her. Opening my eyes, I saw tears streaming down her cheeks.
I swallowed.
She nodded as if everything now made sense. “I know I’m not the one for you. That’s the problem with couples. One is usually more in love than the other. I’d convinced myself that my love would be enough for us. You’re my Cori, I thought. There was no way you would be able to hurt me. It’s not in your DNA. I can’t get that night from high school out of my head. When the boyfriend of the girl I’d slept with took a swing at me with a half full beer can. You stepped in front of me and took the hit right in the face. Jesus, I thought you’d lose an eye.” She sniffled. “You’ve always protected me. I want to still matter to you.”
“You do,” I said, my chin trembling.
“Not like I used to. I didn’t count on you meeting the one for you the very summer I realized my feelings for you.” She looked upward into the immense blue sky, not a cloud in sight. “It’s a sick joke, really. Me falling in love with my best friend. The one I thought would never really fall in love.” Her head snapped back, and she studied me. “But you did. And fast. A part of me hopes this person rips your heart out.”
I blinked away a tear.
Annie looked away. “Not really, but it would be nice if you got hurt a little.” She held up her index finger and thumb about two inches apart, smiling. “To know what I’m going through right now.”
“You never know. It could happen.”
Annie blinked rapidly as if she forgot I had a voice of my own. “Do you think you can arrange it?”
I laughed. “I’ll do my best. I—”
She put a finger to her lips, shaking her head. “Enough has been said.”
An Asian woman on the street corner opposite us started what I think was a warm-up routine before exercising. She moved her legs and arms as if she was playing charades and the word she had to act out was train.
Annie laughed quietly. “If I’m not careful, I’ll turn out like her. A loon.”
“There are some interesting characters in this city. That’s for sure.”
“Can you take me home? I need to be alone for now.”
“Are you sure?”
She simply nodded. “I have to do it this way.”
I sniffled, my nose burning. Rising from the bench, I offered my hand. Annie accepted, and I pulled her into my embrace. She buried her face in my shirt.
“If you ever need anything today, tomorrow, or thirty years from now, don’t hesitate to let me know,” I said, cradling the back of her head. “I mean it. I don’t want to lose our friendship, and you’ll always be important to me.”
“Deep down I know that.” She sniffled. “You too.” Annie pulled away. “I hope she’s worth it.”
Chapter Twelve
The car ride to her apartment was deathly quiet, fitting because it did feel like something had died. A lifelong friendship.
After Annie closed the door to her apartment building, I sat in the car, unsure where to go. Home seemed too lonely. Mom wasn’t the touchy-feely type. Dad was a great listener, but talking about Annie, including the sex bit, didn’t appeal.
Kat?
I laughed. I’d already unburdened before about Annie. It didn’t seem right to go back to share the final Annie chapter in the saga. Not to the woman Annie hated, although Annie hadn’t met Kat. I wondered if she did, would she see why I was…?
I drove to Barb’s.
When I appeared in the kitchen, she said, “I thought dinner was at your mom’s this week.”
I didn’t speak.
“What happened?”
“Annie.” I stopped to control my lip tremors. “She’s in love with me.”
Barb’s smile wasn’t sarcastic, and given the situation, I was relieved she didn’t laugh in my face. Mom would have.
Barb opened her arms. “Come here.”
I had to bend to put my head on her shoulder.
“I think this conversation calls for tea. I’ll put the kettle on. Go outside on the deck. Some sunshine is just what you need.”
I complied.
Inside the kitchen, Roger’s muffled voice drifted through the open patio door, but I sensed Barb banished him from coming outside to say hello, knowing I’d want privacy. More than likely, he had a tennis date. Soon enough, Barb was outside with tea mugs, and I heard Roger fire up his Bentley in the garage.
“Your uncle,” she said, rolling her eyes while taking a seat in the wicker chair across from me.
I sipped the tea with fresh mint leaves floating at the top.
Barb eyed me over the rim of her cup. “I take it the conversation with Annie wasn’t easy.”
I played with the back of my flip-flop dangling from my foot. “It was awful. Why didn’t you warn me?”
She waved my accusation away. “Sometimes you need to learn the hard way. Both of you.”
I squirmed on the cushion. “She didn’t deserve that… this.” I waved a pathetic hand in the air.
Barb licked her lips, pursed them, and then said, “A broken heart is never fun. But, when you play with fire…” Her voice trailed off, and I wondered if her thoughts had turned to her marriage difficulties. After a few seconds, she leaned forward. “I know you’re still in school and adolescence seems to stretch out much longer these days, but don’t you think it’s time you grow up some?”
Taken aback by her bluntness, I started to speak but closed my trap before I complained like a child.
“Don’t make the mistake so many others do,” she said.
I was certain she was referring to Roger, who wasn’t known for his fidelity. He adored Barb, but being faithful? No.
“No matter what type of arrangement you thought you had with Annie, there was no guarantee no one would develop feelings. Humans are anything but rational, and when you mix in sex and the heart, someone is bound to get burned.” She kept her eyes on mine. “I sincerely hope you’ve learned your lesson.”
“No more casual sex, you mean?”
“If that’s how you interpret it.”
“How do you?”
She shook her head. “I’m not involved, so it doesn’t matter what I think. If you want my advice, though, I’d say tread cautiously when it comes to sex and relationships, especially when it involves friendships you’d like to keep.”
I scrunched down in my seat, my knees poking up awkwardly, and leaned my head against the back of the wicker couch. “I feel rotten.”
“Good. If you didn’t, I’d really worry about you.”
Closing my eyes, I saw Annie’s tear-streaked face.
“Is Annie the only reason why you’re feeling conflicted?”
I watched a puffy white cloud slip by. “No.”
“Go on.”
“I met someone.”
“Ah,” was all she said.
I looked at her. “I’d think you’d like her. She’s an artist.”
Barb laughed. “Another delicate soul.”
I smiled. “Yes… and no. She’s like no one I’ve met.”
“Have you two…?” She leveled her gaze on mine.
“No. I’m not ready for that, and I think she feels the same.” I didn’t bother trying to explain Kat’s art therapy. How I’d never felt closer to someone without actually making love.
Barb blinked several times. “Maybe this Annie business has changed you.”
“You make me sound like Boston’s worst lesbian playa.”
“Pishposh.” She sipped her tea. “Boston’s a big city, but people do talk, and word travels quickly in certain circles. Remember that.” Her knowing eyes conveyed much sadness.
I yanked on my earlobe. “I know.”
Roger’s infidelity wasn’t well known, but not everyone was polite enough to stay out of things that didn’t involve them.
I blew out a mouthful of air. “I’d like to show you some of Kat’s work.”
“Did she ask you to?”
I smiled, understanding she had my best interest at heart. “Nope. This is all my own doing. She’s not like that.”
Barb set her mug down on the arm of the wicker chair. It listed to the side slightly, but she seemed confident it wouldn’t topple over. “Just be careful. Roger can only ship off so many of your exes.”
I laughed. “You’re almost as terrible as Mom.”
“Please, she would have pulled out the dolls by now, asking you questions that’d make you blush all the way to your toes. How’d you leave things with Annie?”
“She wants a clean break. I got the feeling she intended to leave town.”
“Where? The Ireland office isn’t set up yet.”
“Don’t know. Maybe her mom’s in New York.”
“I’ll give her a call. Running only accomplishes putting distance between the two of you, and maybe that’s not what she needs right now.”
I sat up. “What do you mean?”
“All these years, you two have been friends. Losing a possible girlfriend and bff at the same time would break a lot of people. You two are more alike than you probably know. You have your family to help you. And your artist. Who does Annie have?”
I sat up. “Are you saying I should go to her?”
“No!” Her face softened. “She needs her space.” Barb rose. “Let me call her. See if she also needs an older and wiser woman to talk to. Go over to your mom’s.”
“Are you punishing me?” I laughed.
“If I was punishing you, you’d know for sure. You aren’t too old for me to put you over my knee.” She waggled a finger in my face.
“Pul-lease. No one in this family has ever hit me.”
“Want to change that?” Her eyes contained a hint of what? Anger? Disappointment? Frustration about her marriage?
“Nope.” I dug mom’s car keys out of my shorts pocket. “I need to return the car anyway.”
“Good girl. And please, I wasn’t kidding. Roger can’t ship another to Ireland to help you out.”
“Does that mean Sheila is out of luck?”
“The bartender?” The crescendo of her voice was worth it.
“She’s wicked smart and finishing law school in June. Roger would be a fool not to snatch her up before his competition does.” I snapped my fingers to emphasize the point.
She rolled her eyes. “Return your mom’s car, and try not to break anyone’s heart in the process. They’re not mended easily.”
During dinner, my phone vibrated. I casually read the text without Barb and Mom noticing.
I was unable to curb a smile, though, causing both to arch their eyebrows.
Kat’s text read: I know this is family day, but if you have the time, can you stop by on your way home?
I responded: Always have time for you.
Her happy face emoji had elicited a smile, which I assumed could be spotted many yards away given the crinkling around my eyes, which the sisters were now appraising.
“Oh, Cori,” Barb said in an attempt to wrest my attention from the phone in my hand. “Don’t forget you’re helping me this Saturday in the studio. You and Roger are hanging some pieces for this month’s show.”
I poured ice water from the glass pitcher on the table. Tapping the side of my head, I said, “Got it written down.”
Mom looked askance at Barb. “I’ll remind her. She’s been rather forgetful lately.”
“I have not!”
Even Roger smiled over my unnecessary protestation.
I groaned. “Any chance I can borrow your car again tonight?”
Mom stabbed her fork a little too forcefully at me. “You aren’t acting like the daughter I raised. Just because a woman beckons doesn’t mean you should run to her. What happened to the girl who never stayed the night?”
I still didn’t, but I didn’t say that.
“Now, Nell. Let her be.” Barb’s fingers were curled around her knife and fork. “She’s happy.”
“Happy I can live with, but pussy whipped…” Mom flipped hair away from her face.
“Mother!” I bellowed with conviction.
“Not sure about that. Rumor has it, Cori hasn’t scored yet.” Barb divulging this tasty morsel at the dinner table irked me.
Mom put a hand to her eyes. “This is much worse than I thought.”
Barb raised her wineglass. “I’m not so sure. It’ll take a special woman to tame Cori.”
“I haven’t been tamed,” I said through gritted teeth.
“When do we get to meet this one?” Mom peeked through her cracked fingers.
“Never if you keep this up.”
“You mentioned she’s an artist. Bring her on Saturday. Goodness knows I could use all the help I can get. This is going to be one of my biggest shows yet, and I’m having a private gathering at the gallery this Thursday.”
Dad perked up in his seat. “I can help with setting up the show.”
Barb’s face paled some. Dad was handier with a calculator than with a hammer and nails. “Fantastic!” she faked an enthusiastic smile.
Mom stifled a snicker, and I had a feeling Barb pressed her foot on top of my mother’s under the table to keep her from being overly snarky to Dad.
Roger winked at me. “Tell me about Sheila. Why should I hire her?”
“Two words.” I made a victory sign. “Wicked smart.”
“And?” he asked in a teasing voice.
“What else do you need to know?”
“Just curious, with this new girl in the picture, if you’re clearing house, or Boston, rather.” He drained a third of his wine.
“Et tu, Roger.” I placed a palm over my heart.
He met Barb’s eyes. “Oh, she’s got it bad.” Roger clapped a hand on my arm. “It’ll be fun to see you chase a woman for once.”