“Yes,” she drawled.
“Hey babe, Larry called me last night with Brenda’s news that you were fired. What the hell!”
She went back to the window seat. “I know. I can’t believe it myself. But honestly, it’s all good. I know that sounds like a bunch of crap, but it’s really fine. There were some things that bugged me about that place. Now I’m free to find something else.”
“Well, I’m here for you, babe. If you need anything, let me know.”
“Thanks, Arvin. I really appreciate it. How’s everything going for you?” she asked.
“Good. I need a vacay, but who doesn’t? Let’s talk soon, okay?”
“Let’s,” she said. “Good bye, Arvin,”
“Bye babe,” he said, and hung up.
Brenda would be at work at nine and Terry would call her then. When they’d spoke yesterday, Brenda was beside herself, but Terry didn’t tell her why she’d been fired. Brenda had probably heard it from Paul, and when she’d tried calling later, Terry didn’t answer the phone. Grateful that Brenda hadn’t said anything about the whys to Arvin, she‘d make sure to thank her for her discretion, unless Arvin knew and was just being a gentleman for a change.
Getting her laptop, she’d sit in the window seat to job hunt.
***
Chapter 9
Pacing the floor, by nine Tuesday night Terry knew there was a problem, that he’d gotten a flat, or even had an accident. It was different then when Arvin stood her up because she didn’t love Arvin. Alex had texted her at six, he was on his way to the apartment to get the rest of his belongings. They’d had a full day of jury selection and he was getting a late start.
Give me an hour, he wrote; I’ll be home to you by seven thirty, eight at the latest. I love you and miss you.
When he didn’t arrive by eight-thirty, she texted him, hoping everything was okay, but he didn’t answer. That could mean he was in transit. There wasn’t really any place to stop along the way where he could answer a text message, no shoulder to turn off from the road.
Shutting the light off in the living room, she’d sit at the window seat and wait. Finally, at ten after nine, the lights of a car swept over the driveway. He was home. Springing up, she forced herself to wait upstairs. Straining to hear, first the sound of the key in the door downstairs and then his footsteps on the stairs reassured her. She opened the door, ready to hug him hello, but stopped herself because he didn’t look approachable. Trying not to be too concerned by Alex’s grim appearance, it frightened her all over again.
Standing aside to let him through, she noticed right away the difference in him; he didn’t greet her with a kiss.
“I’m sorry,” he said, glancing at her, then looking away.
“I was worried,” she said.
Going into the living room, he unbuttoned his top coat and threw it over the back of his chair. “I’ll hang it up for you.”
“I’m not staying, Terry.”
“You’re not?” she asked, her voice small, trembling.
He sat in his chair, his head down, running his fingers through his hair.
“What is it?” Terry asked, standing in the doorway. “You’re scaring me, Alex.”
“Sit down,” he said. “Can you flick a light on first?”
She reached over and turned the side table light on. “What happened?”
Shaking his head, she could see he was struggling with having to tell her something, and the fear in her heart grew, along with her gorge. “What is it?”
“Jennifer is pregnant,” he said.
“Your wife?”
“Yes. It must have happened when I got home. That one time. That’s all it took,” he said.
In her head, Terry counted from August. It was December 4th. She was four months pregnant. Alex, the man she loved, the man who’d just moved into her apartment two days ago, the man who’d she lost her job for, was telling her his wife was pregnant, and that he wasn’t staying.
“Are you going back to her?” Terry asked, barely able to say the words.
“Yes,” he said. “When I got to my apartment tonight, she was there.”
“Why’d she wait so long to tell you?” Terry asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. “I think she was having doubts about having it at first.”
He got up and went to the window seat. The light was on so he couldn’t see much more than his reflection in the window.
“I’m so sorry,” he said.
Terry was numb. “Please get out,” she said. “Give me my key and leave.”
“I need to get my clothes,” he said, handing her the key and reaching for his coat. “I’ll get my other things later, but my clothes I need for work.”
“Hurry. Before I do something I’ll regret.”
Shutting the light off, she closed the door of the living room so she couldn’t hear him, and turned the TV on for background noise. A housewife show was on, someone telling another cast member off, unattractive, drunk, pathetic. Terry felt like that housewife, ruining her life over a night of drunken sex. Not even thinking of how hurt she was, the things that bothered her that moment were the superficial things; the neighbors knowing that after less than four days, the relationship was over.
Her father. Oh my God. The poor man knew she was living with someone who would leave her after four days.
The salvation of having been fired; not having to face the people at work, her pride taking a beating, the mortification of him returning to his wife. She’d loved working with them, Brenda was her best friend. Brenda would learn from the other party that the relationship was over. No longer able to say his name, she’d find another way to refer to him but only if it was absolutely necessary.
He tapped on the door.
“Leave!” she cried, frightened he’d come in to say goodbye.
She vowed to never talk to him again, never wanted to see his face, hear his name spoken. The thought of him made her ill.
Hearing a motor passing on the driveway, she got up and went to the window in time to see him turning right out of her driveway, returning to town.
Terry ran downstairs with the key to lock the door. In the morning, she’d write Benny and Earle a note, telling them he’d left and to please not mention his name. It was that bad, that humiliating.
Back up in her apartment, she’d spend the night packing up his belongings, wishing she’d had a fireplace so she could burn it all, his important papers, discharge papers from the army, and license to practice law. Imagining Alex asking for his things, she’d have to admit to him she’d destroyed them.
By dawn, every indication he’d ever been there was gone. The boxes could stay on the porch; she sent a text that simply said your belongings are on the porch. Quickly blocking his number after she sent the message, she never wanted to see his number on her phone. If someone stole his things, oh well.
She doubted he had her landline number, thank God, or she’d have to have that disconnected. In the bathroom, his toothbrush, the towel he used, even the pillow he laid on, all trashed. She changed the sheets again, throwing the sheets he’d touched in the trash. The leather chair and bookcases were another problem, Terry was afraid of gouging the walls or she’d throw them down the stairs.
Sitting on her window seat, the sun was coming up in the east. The snow that had fallen the morning before had melted, but it was icy out, she could see everything glistening with frost.
That life she’d loved so much had almost been ruined by…had almost been ruined. She still loved her apartment, just vowed to never allow another man in again. One, nearly catastrophic mistake almost destroyed it. All she really lost was her well being and her job. Her pride she’d regain. But her well being, she didn’t think that was going to come back easily. How was it possible that she could lose so much in such a short time? Amazing.
As tired as she was, she just wanted a cup of coffee while she sat in the window. Then, she could get into bed alone, and sleep for a
week.
***
Chapter 10
December 5th
Slowly, slowly, feelings returned for Terry. Harry visited her early Wednesday after Earle called him, upset when Terry slipped the note under his door about no longer having a live-in boyfriend. After being up all night packing Alex’s things, and removing every trace of him except the furniture they’d bought together, she’d gotten three hours of sleep when her phone beeped.
Your old father is climbing two flights of stairs, he texted. Answer your door.
“Dad, I haven’t brushed my teeth yet,” she said, holding the door for him.
“I can wait,” he said, holding up a box from Eagle’s Bakery. “I’ll make coffee.”
So her father rescued her, not letting her stay in bed, forcing her to have a little pastry for breakfast.
“I forgot how nice this place is,” he said looking around. “I’m very surprised.”
“I’m glad you like it. I’m sorry I let that other person in,” she said. “I’ll never do it again. It’s almost tainted. Not completely, but almost.”
“Give yourself a month to recover. On Sex in the City, Charlotte says it takes a full week for every day you were with someone. So you were with you know who four days, give yourself a month.”
“Dad, that’s not scientific,” she said, laughing. “Oh my God, I can’t believe I laughed! Thank you so much.”
“I’ll come every morning for coffee and laughter,” he said.
“Since when do you watch Sex in the City?” she asked.
“Since I got Netflix,” he said. “I love that show.”
“Dad, I think you might be loosening up,” Terry said, sipping coffee.
The buzzer on the front door rang out.
“Oh no,” she said, terrified. “I can’t imagine who that might be unless…”
“You’ll never know unless you answer it,” Harry said.
Reluctantly, she got up and went to the intercom to look at the security camera. “It’s my former boss,” she said incredulous.
Pressing the button to talk, she didn’t try to hide her annoyance. “Vince, what are you doing here?”
“Please let me come up, Terry. I need to talk to you,” he said.
“My daughter!” Harry said, shaking his fist in the air in triumph. “They can’t live without you downtown.”
“I don’t think that’s it, Dad,” she said, leaving to unlock the door.
Remembering she was wearing the same grubby tights she’d cleaned house in all night, no bra and a ratty long sleeved tee. Terry smirked at her reflection in Earle’s french doors. Flipping the lock, she stood aside to let him in.
“Oh, I guess you’re…?” he asked startled, looking at her clothes, then her breasts, quickly looking away.
“What Vince? I don’t have a dress code at home. If it’s any of your business, I’m cleaning,” she said, pointing up the stairs. “After you.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t come here to be critical or to piss you off.”
“I know,” she said. “You can’t help yourself. Go.”
She followed him up. “My father is here, just for your information. Be careful about insulting me in front of him. The man is a mother tiger.”
“I’d never insult you. When have I ever insulted you? I think you’re fabulous and you know it.”
They reached her apartment.
“I’ll take your coat,” she said, hanging it on the wall hooks in the hallway.
“Do you want coffee? My dad brought pastry from one of those German bakeries in the northeast.”
“Yes, and yes,” he said.
Pouring him coffee and offering him the box of pastries from which to choose, she thought that it couldn’t be weirder than having her father and her former boss in the apartment at the same time.
“My father might be a tad hostile,” she whispered.
“Rightly so,” Vince said.
“We’re in here,” she said, pointing to the front of the house.
“Wow, this is really nice,” he said, looking around.
“Vince, this is my dad, Harry Kovac,” Terry said.
Placing his coffee mug on the table, he offered Harry his hand to shake.
“Thank you for your service, Sir,” Vince said. “Terry’s told us about it.”
“You’re welcome,” Harry said. “Is it safe for me to stay and hear what you have to say to my daughter after the piss poor way you treated her?”
“Yes sir,” Vince said. “Terry, I came to apologize to you and to offer you your job back. Actually, to reiterate the partnership.”
“Why?” she asked. “I was just looking forward to finding an office where I can wear pants.”
“I’ll change the dress code if you’ll come back. You’ll be a partner so you can change it.”
“I don’t know what to think. I’m thinking you’re here because you’ve heard that the relationship I thought I had is no longer. Is that correct?”
“That’s correct,” he said.
“I’m not sure I would be comfortable working with certain parties,” she admitted.
“You’ll never have to unless it’s an emergency. Being a partner, you’d have the pick of the cases. And as you know, having a certain hostility is sometimes helpful during a difficult trial. It helps to keep you on your toes.”
“Yes, well in small doses. I’m not sure my health could take a steady dose of adrenaline. Please, sit down,” she said, pointing to the leather winged-back chair.
They drank coffee, Vince eating the pastry unabashedly, getting crumbs all over his suit, and making small talk comfortably in the apartment of his long time employee.
“Well, what do you think?” he asked finally.
“I’ll consider it. I need to see something in writing,” she said. “And I’ll take the rest of the week off to think about it.”
“Certainly,” Vince said. “Anything else?”
He followed her into the hallway to get his coat.
“I expect you to keep this confidential. I don’t want other parties privy to my work situation, if you get my drift.”
“I won’t say a word. Paul knows. I came here at his urging. I was actually afraid of you,” he said, wide eyed.
“Get over yourself, Vince. What have I ever done to make you afraid? I’ve never been anything but respectful and kind to you, no matter how unreasonable you’ve been.”
“You’re a formidable debater,” he said. “I didn’t know how angry you’d be.”
“I’m too tired to be angry,” she said, opening the door. “I’ll walk you down.”
“So, you’ll call me and let me know about Monday?”
“Yes, of course. I’ll make up my mind by Friday at noon,” she said.
“Goodbye, Terry,” he said, holding his hand out to shake.
Grinning, she shook it back. “Goodbye, Vince,” she replied. “And by the way, I completely understand the no fraternization clause now.”
“I’m sorry, Terry.”
Back up in her living room, she sat across from her father with another pastry on her lap. “Dad, what do you think?”
“Play hardball,” he said. “You have three days of possibilities. Rest, relax, meditate.”
“Wait, Harry Kovac is telling me to meditate? Dad, what’s going on with you?”
“There’s a spiritual guru on Netflix, too,” he said, giggling, a charming side to her father that she’d rarely seen before.
“Mom was very spiritual,” she said, feeling wistful. “I think she’d approve of the new Harry Kovac.”
“I have her rosary beads in a little place I’m fixing up as an altar. I know, I know, aging hippie, new age of Aquarius, hocus pocus, dominocus.”
“Dad!” she cried, laughing. “I’m not making fun. I’m laughing at you making fun of yourself.”
“Hey, it brings me comfort. I’ll never get over losing your mother, so I might as well do what I can to try to conn
ect with her spirit until I die.”
“Is that what you’re doing?” Terry asked, being gentle with her old dad.
“I’m pretty sure it is. I’ve never had any use for psychic crap before. I’m sorry I didn’t support her more.”
“Dad, you were so supportive! You took us to church every Sunday even though you’re Jewish. You went out of your way to facilitate all the religious holidays. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t even bother with Christmas.”
“Now see, Terry,” Harry said. “I think that’s a big mistake.”
“Why?” she asked, astonished. “I’d think you’d be relieved.”
“Our traditions were started by your mother’s parents,” he said. “I promised her I’d keep doing them in case you ever had a child. It’s important for the kid to have the family history. Or something like that.”
“Dad, at the rate I’m going, I’m never going to have a child, so you can stop whatever it is she asked you to do.”
“Terry, don’t get bitter because you ran into a schmuck, okay?”
“I won’t. I’m not getting bitter. It just happened last night,” she said, thinking, Now I can be part of the office baby shower celebration for his kid. “I’m dreading having to interact with him at the holiday parties coming up.”
“You’re a partner,” Harry said. “You’ll be exempt from that sort of horseshit.”
“Ha! Dad, you’re a character,” Terry said, bending over to kiss him. “I’m getting more coffee. Do you want some?”
“Nope, no more for me. I think I’ll head home now, try to beat the lunch hour traffic. Do you want to shop tomorrow?”
“I’d love to, even though there’s no one to shop for,” she said.
“You’re worth cooking for,” he said. “And Earle and Benny are still raving about your Polish dinner.”
“Oh! Do you want to be my date at Mrs. Dell’s graduation party this weekend?”
“Sure,” Harry said. “I’ll enjoy that. Although the last time I ate at her house I went to the ER thinking it was a heart attack and it was just indigestion.”
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