This Was Not the Plan

by Cristina Alger

  “That wasn’t a metaphor.”

  “What?”

  “You said you didn’t want to get all metaphorical on me.”

  She frowns at me. “What are you talking about?”

  “Forget it. Are you done? Have you said what you wanted to say?”

  “Yes,” she says, nodding her head solemnly.

  “Okay. Thanks, Zadie. I appreciate it. I’ll take it under advisement.”

  “You will?” she says, surprised.

  “Yes.” I nod firmly. Zadie’s words, however jumbled and grammatically incorrect, resonate with me. Something about this job feels wrong. Maybe it’s just the speed at which I accepted the position. Maybe it’s the fact that I have to start so soon. Or maybe it’s the fact that, deep down, I know I’m rushing back into a life that I’m not entirely sure I want anymore. Whatever it is, I need to figure it out, and fast.

  “Oh, Charlie, that’s great. I’m so relieved. It’s just something I’ve been thinking, you know, since you told us you took the job and I didn’t know if I should say anything or just bite my tongue, but you know me and—”

  “Can we change the subject now, please?”

  “First, can I say just one more thing?”

  “Sure,” I say with a sigh. “Why not.”

  She pauses before continuing, her voice low. “It’s not your fault that she got on that plane, Charlie. You know that, right? You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t do anything to cause it.”

  “Yeah,” I say, staring at the carpet. “I know.”

  Zadie puts a hand to my cheek. “Say it like you mean it,” she says, her voice soft.

  “I know,” I repeat. “But thanks for saying it.”

  Zadie nods, her eyes welling with tears. She glances away, composing herself.

  When she looks up at me, she gives me a watery smile.

  “So,” she says, sniffing a little, “tell me about this Elise.”

  I shrug. “She’s nice. Going through a divorce. Her boy, Lucas, is sweet. Shy but sweet.”

  “Is she pretty?”

  “Zadie.”

  “Well, is she?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe. I haven’t really noticed.”

  She giggles. “I’m just joking around, Charlie. Seriously, I think it’s great they’re staying over. It will be terrific for Caleb. His first sleepover!”

  “His first sleepover,” I say, feeling suddenly teary myself. If someone had told me six months ago that Caleb would be having a sleepover with a friend—an actual friend, not Fiona or Mr. Beep—I wouldn’t have believed it. “First sleepover” is not, I realize, the kind of milestone they talk about in parenting books. But to me it feels like something. “He’s growing up.”

  “Maybe we all are,” Zadie says. “Or at least, we’re trying our best.”

  • • •

  “Welcome!” Zadie cries upon opening the front door, and wraps Elise up in a hug that normal people reserve for old friends and close cousins. “I’m so happy you guys are here! I’m Zadie, by the way. Charlie’s sister.”

  Elise smiles gratefully. “Hi,” she says. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m Elise. Sweetheart, say hello to Ms. Goldwyn.”

  Zadie waves her off. “Call me Zadie. Don’t let the house fool you. We’re as casual as they come.”

  “Hi, Zadie,” Lucas says shyly, leaning against his mother’s leg.

  “Thank you so much for having us over.” Elise steps into the house and closes her eyes. “Ahhhh,” she says. “Oh, air-conditioning. Delicious.”

  Zadie turns back to me. She’s gorgeous, she mouths. I can’t help but smile. Elise does look particularly beautiful this evening. She’s wearing tight white jeans and a sleeveless top that showcases her toned, tan arms. Her hair cascades down her back in gentle waves, the overhead light picking up the threads of silver that run through it. Her legs are a mile long in heels. For once, she’s wearing jewelry—bold turquoise earrings that draw out the blue in her eyes—and her full lips and high cheekbones seem flush with color.

  She dressed up, I think to myself, giddy. I feel slightly less ridiculous for having tried on three different button-down shirts in the fifteen minutes before she arrived.

  “Hi, there.” I turn; standing behind me is Madison. I take a deep, calming breath. It hadn’t occurred to me that she’d be at dinner tonight. And what is she wearing? Her dress is so short, it looks like she forgot to put on pants. I spin back around, nervously assessing Elise’s reaction.

  “This is, uh—” I stutter, wondering exactly how to introduce her. My dad’s girlfriend’s daughter? My former ex-fling?

  “Madison.” Madison smiles smoothly and extends a hand to Elise. “Charlie’s dad, Jeff, is engaged to my mom, Shelley.”

  “Oh!” Elise says, visibly relieved. “That’s so sweet!”

  “Isn’t it?” I mutter through gritted teeth.

  “Hi, ’Lise,” Caleb rounds the corner, looking spiffy. He’s sporting a lilac-colored polo shirt, khaki pants, and his favorite pair of teal-and-lilac-striped socks with no shoes. “There’s cocktails on the porch.”

  Elise bursts out laughing. “Well, thank you, sir.”

  “I’ll take your bags upstairs.” I reach for the duffel in Elise’s hand just as she’s bending over to help Lucas with his backpack. For a second our noses are so close that I can almost feel the flutter of her eyelashes. She smiles at me, her lips parting, her tongue darting inside her mouth. We’re close enough to kiss.

  “Let me,” Zadie says, breaking the moment. She snatches the bags. “You guys go grab a drink. I’ll see you in a few.”

  “Hi there, honey,” Dad calls, waving to Elise through the porch doors. “Come out here and meet my gal, Shelley.”

  “Thank you for having us, Jeff.”

  “The more the merrier. Can I interest you in an oyster? The lobsters are almost ready.”

  “Welcome to the Goldwyn house,” I say, ushering her over to the bar. “Where there is a shellfish for every occasion.”

  Elise knocks her shoulder into mine. “Even first dates?”

  Even though I know she’s joking, my stomach fills with butterflies. In the past two and half years, women have flirted with me. A few have asked me out; one or two even threw themselves at me. It always felt awkward, wrong, or just plain uncomfortable. Elise isn’t throwing herself at me, of course. I actually don’t think she’s even flirting. But there’s a suggestion of something, a question mark, in the arch of her eyebrow and the way her arm brushes against mine, and to my surprise it’s not in the least bit unpleasant. In fact, it feels pretty nice. Suddenly I’ve forgotten about all my work stress. I’ve forgotten about Todd. I’ve even forgotten how awkward it is that Elise is standing next to Madison. I’m grinning from ear to ear, and in that moment, the world feels flush with possibility.

  • • •

  “Daddy, no more pie,” Caleb moans, rubbing his hands against his distended belly. He slumps back against me, letting his head loll onto my shoulder, like a little drunkard. “Tooooo much pie.”

  Lucas, too, looks wasted. He’s still upright, but just barely. His eyes are glazed over. Very slowly, he raises his pie-laden fork to his mouth, then lets it fall back on the plate, untouched.

  “I think these guys are toast,” Elise says, smiling at me. “Bed?”

  “Yup.”

  “Need help?” Zadie offers.

  “No, no.” I shake my head. “Thanks, but I got it.”

  “Okay. Good night, you guys.”

  “We’ll be back in a few,” I say quickly, and Elise nods in agreement.

  Wordlessly, the two of us trudge up to the second floor, our boys in our arms. I move slowly, deliberately, feeling out each stair with my foot in the semi-dark. I can sense Elise behind me. I want to turn and look at her, but I know I shouldn’t. Both boys are asleep. It’s best not to wake them.

  At the end of the hall, I gesture her inside the room the boys have chosen to sleep in. It has two twin be
ds and a window seat overlooking the ocean. We tuck them in without waking them up to brush their teeth. Zadie suggested they don their pajamas before dinner; in retrospect, a great idea. Tonight there will be no reading of books, no bath, no ritualistic turning on of the night-lights and pulling down of the shades. Tonight Caleb will not beg me to check his closet for monsters or attempt to discuss the possibility of a tornado hitting at midnight. Tonight there was only fun.

  “Mmm-buh.” Caleb sighs when I place a kiss on his forehead. His breathing is labored, his limbs limp.

  “Buddy, do you want me to put out the animals?” I whisper.

  “No,” he whispers back, still half-asleep. “Iz okay. I have Lucas.” With that, he curls up into the fetal position and starts to snore.

  Elise and I sign at one another from the shadows, confirming that both boys are asleep. Together we tiptoe to the door. Out in the hall, we high-five.

  “That was weirdly easy,” she says, her voice low. “I was worried he’d have trouble falling asleep in a strange house.”

  “How about you?” I ask, moving closer to her. Without meaning to, I reach up and stroke her cheek. Amazingly, she doesn’t stop me. In fact, she steps closer, turning her face up to mine. “How will you sleep in this strange house?”

  “I don’t know.” Her voice falls to a whisper. “This is all new to me.”

  “Me too,” I start to say, but then she is kissing me, and my words get lost in her mouth. The wetness of her lips is so startling that I flinch a little, pulling away in the process.

  “I’m sorry,” she says, stunned. Her eyelids flicker, registering the hurt. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “No, don’t say sorry, I—” I lean into her again, trying to restart, but the moment has slipped out of my fingers. She turns away, and my kiss lands squarely on her cheek.

  “Oh my God,” I say, feeling desperate, “I want to kiss you so badly. You just caught me a little off guard is all. I just wasn’t expecting it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to kiss you. Because I do. Very badly.”

  “Yes, you said that,” she says with a small laugh. “Charlie, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. Too much wine, I think. Can we just forget this whole thing happened?”

  “No, Elise, please. I don’t want to forget it.”

  She looks up at me then, her blue eyes locking with mine. Her hand cups my face. “I like you very much,” she says, her voice filled with earnestness. “But I don’t think either of us is quite ready for anything to happen. Romantically, I mean. I know I’m not.” She laughs again, embarrassed. “I’m not even properly divorced. The way things are going with J. P., I may never be. Anyway, I made a mistake. Can you just forgive me so we can be friends? I really want us to be friends, Charlie. It’s so important to me.”

  “Of course we can be friends,” I say, because it seems like the only thing I can say. I have to squeeze my eyes shut for a second in order to drown out the chorus of voices in my head shouting, NO! Kiss her, you idiot! Kiss her right now!

  “Good,” she says, and nods. Her hand drops away from my face. “Thank you. You really are a terrific guy.”

  “Can I see you again?” I blurt out. I reach for her forearm. “I mean, like, not on the playground. Can we do something just the two of us?”

  She bites her lip. “Like a date?”

  “It doesn’t have to be a date. It can be just like two friends grabbing dinner together. Or lunch. Whatever makes you feel most comfortable. I just want to spend time with you.”

  “I want to spend time with you, too,” she says softly.

  “When?”

  “Well, for one thing, I’ll see you tomorrow morning. Since we’re sleeping over and all.”

  “Terrific. We can take the boys to the beach in the morning.”

  She smiles then, but it’s a faraway smile, not the intimate, eyes-locked kind of smile she was giving me just moments ago. I’m losing her, I think. I’ve lost her.

  “That sounds nice,” she says.

  “You can stay here as long as you like.”

  “I wish I could. I think we probably have to head back into the city. Anyway, I don’t want to impose on your family any more than I already have.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. We love having you here. You just saw my dad making out with his fiancée, for God’s sake. You’re part of the family.”

  She throws her head back and laughs. It’s a genuine laugh, giving me a flicker of hope that we can move past tonight and at least go back to where we were before. “Your family is awesome,” she says.

  “That’s one word for them.”

  She gives me a playful swat. “They’re the best! Your dad and Shelley are so sweet together. Ugh, it just melted my heart. And Zadie is wonderful. After ten minutes I felt like we were old friends.” She pauses, like she’s debating whether or not to tell me something.

  “What?” I say, narrowing my eyebrows at her. “Uh-oh, what did Zadie say?”

  “She invited me to her wedding.” Elise grimaces. “I sound like a stalker now, right? Like a stalker who tries to kiss someone and then weirdly crashes their sister’s wedding?”

  “No!” I say, a little too loudly. Reflexively we both turn towards the boys’ bedroom door. “No,” I say, lowering my voice. “Not at all. I would love for you to be there.”

  “You sure?” she says, hesitant. “You don’t think it would be weird if I came? Because I totally don’t have to. I don’t even know why I brought it up. I’m sorry. I just told her yes because it was so sweet of her to invite me. And I don’t have friends in New York. I mean, I’ve got you and Tom but, like, no girlfriends. And your sister—”

  I clamp my hand firmly across her mouth. Then I lean in, my forehead pressed firmly to hers. Her eyes go wide with surprise, but she doesn’t move away. In fact, she takes my free hand in hers, interlacing our fingers together in one swift move.

  “Elise,” I say firmly. “Will you please come to my sister’s wedding? I would love it if you would say yes.”

  “Yes,” she says, her voice muffled. “I would love to.”

  I release her. We smile at one another. I try not to think about the fact that she’s still holding my hand. Like sixth graders, we turn and walk hand in hand down the hallway, saying nothing. The door to my room—the room I was sharing with Caleb until tonight—is at the other end of the hall. A mere fifteen yards away.

  Just get her there, a voice in my head insists. Just get her to your bedroom. Then you can kiss her and everything will be okay.

  She stops short in front of the room that contains her overnight bag.

  “I think this is me,” she says, sounding unsure.

  “Okay,” I say, unwilling to let go of her hand.

  “Hey, Charlie? Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For everything.”

  She stands up on the tips of her toes and places a kiss on my cheek.

  “Good night,” she whispers in my ear.

  “Good night, Elise. See you in the morning.”

  She smiles at me, and then closes the door behind her.

  Morning After

  “Good morning, sunshine,” Zadie sings out when I stumble into the kitchen. “I thought you were never going to wake up.”

  I run a hand through my sleep-ruffled hair and grunt in response. Truth is, I’ve been awake for hours. I’ve just been staring at the ceiling, trying and failing to summon the courage to go downstairs and face Elise.

  “Coffee?” Zadie holds up the pot. “You look like you could use some.”

  “Coffee would be great. Where is everybody?”

  “Dad and Shelley went to town to get her ring sized. Buck’s out back doing something to the hydrangea. And your girlfriend took the boys to the beach.”

  I shoot her a look.

  “What?” Zadie says.

  “She’s not my girlfriend.”

  “Your friend that’s a girl.”

  “She’s thirty-fi
ve years old.”

  “Whatever, Charlie.” Zadie scowls. “Elise. She’s awesome, by the way. Did you know she volunteers with Amnesty International? I had such a great time with her last night.”

  At least one of us did, I think darkly.

  “I hope you don’t mind, I invited her to the wedding.”

  “Yeah, she mentioned that. Is there anyone you haven’t invited to your wedding?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Moose said you invited him. You guys doing a spread in Town & Country, too?”

  Zadie’s face clouds over. “For your information,” she says, “the wedding is just going to be a big cocktail party. No dinner or anything. We did it that way to save money, and we figured as long as we’re not feeding people, the more the merrier. Buck’s doing all the flowers. I’m baking the cake. I’m wearing a dress that I own already. We didn’t even send out invitations—just called people or e-mailed them. So, no, definitely no magazine spread.”

  I bury my nose in my coffee mug, embarrassed. Zadie and Buck are many things, but pretentious is not one of them. In fact, it’s pretty sweet that she thought to include my friends. I shouldn’t be giving Zadie a hard time just because I’m upset about Elise.

  “I thought you’d appreciate the fact that I included your friends,” she says, reading my mind. “I mean, you know I love Moose. And Elise is terrific. But I invited them for you, Charlie. We want you to feel comfortable.”

  I nod. “I know. That’s nice of you.”

  “Anyway, I figured you’d probably screw things up with Elise somehow, so at least this way you’re guaranteed to see her again.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “What are sisters for?”

  • • •

  Unlike yesterday, which was perfect, today is unpleasantly hot and humid. The sand is littered with beachgoers in various states of undress. Some lie like stuck pigs on towels, while others hide beneath umbrellas. The energetic few are dipping their toes in the ocean. I step over a set of Kadima paddles, an abandoned sand castle, a volleyball net. Already I can feel my shirt sticking damply to my back. By noon, I think grouchily, these idiots will have fled the beach in favor of air-conditioning.