The Pull of Yesterday

by Gabriella West

  So I would have one more time in the beautiful kitchen, after all.

  She had poured me a glass of sherry. “It seems civilized, you know.”

  Anything would have done at that moment. We sat down at the long table together.

  “I got fired today,” I said in a conversational tone.

  “Oh shit! Do you want me to tell Aaron?”

  “Sure,” I answered. “It won’t surprise him. He knew I was on thin ice at the Museum.”

  “So many endings,” she said thoughtfully.

  I nodded, sipping. “This is good.”

  I assumed she hadn’t given me wine because she didn’t want to get me drunk. Wise woman, I thought.

  Her eyes were bright. She was pretty, but in a kind of odd, elfin way.

  “How’s your painting going?” I asked, clearing my throat.

  “Not bad,” she answered. “I’m channeling a lot of rage from my latest breakup. I have the worst luck with women.”

  “And men?” I asked, as she poured me another glass.

  “It’s difficult for me to even get to the point of having a relationship with one. I had a lot of boyfriends when I was younger.”

  “Ah,” I said. “Well, there are some good ones out there. Not to sound smug. Which I know it does.”

  “Are you thinking of yourself?” she said, smiling.

  “No. My boyfriend Matt.”

  “I like that you can say ‘boyfriend’ so easily,” she said. “When I first met you, you still seemed like a straight boy. A bit uptight.”

  I sighed, thinking of when we had last met. “It’s him, you know. The guy I was with that other time we met. That was Matt.”

  “Yes, Aaron told me.”

  We drank slowly. She’s going to drink you under the table, a little voice inside my head observed.

  I didn’t care. I just wanted to get rid of the memory of Mike and Wendy’s faces. Talk about smug, I thought. And what had they done with Vic? They must have told him not to answer my text, keep me guessing and worried.

  “I’m sorry about your dad,” Tessa said finally. She looked as if she didn’t really want to discuss it.

  I didn’t either. “That’s OK. We weren’t close,” I told her. No point in telling her about Harold Weinstein, although I would like to tell Aaron one day.

  “It’s hardest for your mother, I guess.” She looked like she was flinching, trying to repress a bad memory. “I was fifteen when my father died.”

  She was slightly older than me, then.

  “I will be thirty this year,” she said rather formally. “Time to stop... wasting time, I suppose.”

  “You’ve achieved a lot, I would have thought,” I murmured.

  “Would you like a beer?” she said suddenly.

  “No, Tessa, I can’t. I’ll get trashed.”

  She gave a dry chuckle. “That’s very good of you. But you don’t have to work later.”

  “I don’t want Matt to see me like that. He might not be as open-minded as you and Aaron are.” I flushed slightly. “How is Aaron? I hope he’s not taking pills...”

  Tessa stared at me. “You really are a good guy. I’m amazed that you’re asking that. He’s fine. He loves his new therapist. I’ve actually never seen him so cheerful. He’s not angry, most of the time, and he doesn’t seem miserable. He’s given up all hope of a relationship, he says.”

  I grimaced.

  “I hope he finds someone,” I muttered.

  But I couldn’t imagine it.

  Tessa shrugged in an expressive way.

  “But he loves me living here. So if he ever does find someone, he says he’ll see that person outside the house. He says he wants to be more independent, or less codependent, or something.”

  “Uh-huh,” I said. It made sense, but I found it odd that Aaron would be perky and happy. Unless he had told her to tell me that. But she seemed utterly sincere.

  “Do you still smoke, Dave?” she asked.

  “Of course. Oh, do you want one?” I fished around in my pocket for my pack.

  I lit one for her, watching her hair flop forward slightly as she bent forward. I lit one for myself.

  “It sounds like you’re staying on. Do you think you’ll be happy here?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said, breathing out. “It’s different from LA. OK, then, will you split a beer with me?”

  I nodded. I had started to see that this was going somewhere. I glanced at the shiny pans on the walls. Would I ever be here again?

  “I hope you will come back here,” she said as if reading my mind. “I hope you and Aaron can be friends.”

  “If it’s up to me...” I said. “I hope so.”

  “He says it’s impossible to say which of you dumped the other, but he still feels bitter. That’s normal, right?”

  “Right,” I echoed, taking a swig of the beer she had poured me. God, it tasted good. Yes, “bitter” sounded more like the Aaron I remembered.

  She sipped from the can, which I was amused to see. A little saucer served as our ashtray.

  “I don’t smoke often,” she clarified. “It feels good sometimes.”

  I was feeling nice and loose now. “Tessa, is there something you want to ask me?”

  “Oh,” she said, getting up and going to the counter, avoiding my eyes. “Aaron wanted me to give you this.” She dropped a disc in front of me.

  It was the Leonard Cohen I’m Your Man CD.

  I blushed. Ironic.

  “I thought this was yours,” I said, picking it up and handling it gently.

  “No.” Tessa sat down again. “We all loved this CD, though. My mother too, when she was alive.”

  “Thanks.” I was touched. I tucked it in my pocket.

  I didn’t get up and I still had the feeling there was something she wanted to ask me. There was something so charming about being with her, her light energy. I found her easy to be with, certainly, I reflected. Fun. Interesting. She had some of Aaron’s qualities but she hadn’t been as badly wounded as a kid. She was tougher. She should be able to find a relationship up here, I thought.

  “I guess there is something,” Tessa said quietly, swallowing the last of the beer in the can. “I’m a bit embarrassed. It seems odd, I know.”

  I shrugged. “I have no idea what it could be.”

  “Well, I like you.” She looked at me directly. “I’ve talked this over with Aaron, too.”

  I waited.

  “I’m...I’m hoping to get pregnant while I’m up here. In the next few months, say. My biological clock, you know. I just wondered, would you have any interest in helping me?”

  “Oh. Providing sperm, you mean?” My ears had gone red. “Uh...”

  “Well, yes, except that I wanted to do it the old-fashioned way.” She tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “And I don’t want to go to a sperm bank. Yuck!”

  I was stunned. I stubbed out my cigarette.

  “I, you know, I probably would have asked you anyway. I got such a nice vibe off you the last time I met you. And if you were still with Aaron, you’d probably have been more willing to do it.” She sounded wistful.

  My mouth opened and closed.

  “I’ve just come from a funeral!” I blurted out.

  “Well, I didn’t mean now.” She smiled, and her eyes brightened a little. “No, I’d give you time to think about it. Also, you’re in a new relationship and you’re in love. This is horrible timing, I know.”

  “You’re suggesting that I sleep with you?” This was where I was supposed to run screaming, I thought to myself.

  “To help me get pregnant, yes. Then you’ll always know the kid because you’ll be part of the family.”

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. The whole day had had the quality of a dream. It was like my new life was being mapped out for me. The woman on the plane yesterday would give me my new job. Mike and Wendy had given me enough to tide me over. Now Tessa wanted me to knock her up.

  “I�
�d have to ask Matt,” I said. My voice had taken on a stern quality. “The likelihood that he’d be in favor of it seems... slim.”

  Tessa gave me a measured look. “Oh, does he not want you to sleep with women?”

  My face reddened again. “It’s not impossible, but I hate to dump this on him.”

  “He loves you,” she said, shrugging.

  “And I love him. And it seems wrong to sleep with my ex’s sister. Tessa, it’s something that I couldn’t be super-casual about.”

  “I know.” Tessa’s voice was gentle. “I wouldn’t be casual about it either.”

  “I know it happens out there. I’ve heard about it. But there’s something, I don’t know... wrong about it for me. Or risky.”

  She nodded. Suddenly her whole body relaxed, as if she had done her best and she had failed, and now she could just let go.

  “Well,” she said, spreading her hands, a gesture I recognized from Aaron. “That’s understandable. Could I ask you again in three months?”

  In May, I thought. She would ask me again in May.

  Suddenly I heard the front door open. I looked at her in astonishment.

  “Is he gone?” Aaron called out.

  I had turned pale, and when he entered the kitchen, he went pale too.

  “Oh, sorry!” Tessa seemed amused. “I was supposed to text Aaron when you left. He didn’t hear from me—did you get worried?”

  “Yeah, I came home to check,” Aaron said to her tersely. “I didn’t think you’d be drinking with him!”

  “Have a drink,” she said to him. Her eyes were merry. Looking from one to the other, with him standing in front of me, I saw how different to him she was. Her pretty, light energy was soothing, addicting. I could see the darkness in him now, though he would be polite, I was sure. I stood up, leaning against the table slightly. I knew I should leave.

  “Let’s all have a drink,” Tessa repeated. “Let’s part as friends.”

  I hated hearing that line, and a jab of pain went through me. Aaron stared at me for a moment.

  “I brought the key back,” I said hoarsely. “You won’t see me again here. Unless, some day, you want to.”

  Aaron turned away from me, and then he turned back.

  “We don’t play by the rules here, have you figured that out yet? I’ll always want to see you, Dave. It’s just not good for me for the moment.”

  “Yes, sure,” I babbled, scared by his intensity.

  “I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never had a proper breakup.”

  “Well, I hugged Janine, I remember, the day I left. But it’s probably not the same.”

  “Are you as desperate to get away from me as you were from her?” Aaron’s lip curled slightly.

  “Boys, boys!” Tessa said. Thank God she was there.

  “No,” I answered, my voice trembling. “It’s over, but I’ll always love you.”

  Tessa poured him a drink. He took it and tossed it down.

  “I shouldn’t have come back. But I actually did want to see you. I’m sorry,” he said with difficulty.

  Tessa gave me a sympathetic smile. “I’ll be upstairs,” she said. I watched her slim figure drift away.

  “Aaron, I don’t want to fight.”

  “No.” He was subdued now. He wandered toward me.

  “Just hug me, then.”

  I braced myself, closing my eyes. He was in my arms. I felt him tremble slightly against me. We were both crying suddenly.

  “Aaron, I’m so fucking sorry,” I whispered. He held me tighter, his arms pressing against my back.

  “I know. I know you’re sorry.”

  I swept my hand across his hair. He sighed against me. We were standing against the table, a position we had been in many times.

  “I know we can’t be together again. But all the same.” He was forcing the words out. “Could you kiss me?”

  I couldn’t not kiss him, so I did. The alcohol had loosened me up. The kiss was good. It went on too long. I pulled away.

  “I got fired today,” I said, looking down.

  “What will you do?” His eyes were sad.

  “It’ll be all right. Look.” I pulled out Erica’s business card and showed it to him. “I met her on the plane yesterday. I’ll probably work there.”

  “Nice,” he said, starting to laugh helplessly. “OK, we’ve laughed, we’ve cried, what else is there?”

  I could read his mind, and as usual, I wasn’t sure of my own mind and heart.

  “You don’t want to do this,” I said.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “But Tessa’s upstairs...”

  I walked out into the hallway and looked upstairs. Loud music was coming from Tessa’s studio. The door was shut.

  “You owe me one,” Aaron said in the hallway.

  “No, I don’t,” I whispered.

  “It would bond us,” Aaron murmured. “Then I wouldn’t be bitter.”

  “Well, there’s that...” I was teasing him, but I was also mulling it over in my head, deciding. I thought of Matt. I couldn’t do it.

  “Please, Aaron, don’t ask me.”

  “Then just come upstairs and lie down with me,” he murmured. “I just need a bit more time.”

  ***

  We lay beside each other on his bed, fully clothed.

  “Thank you,” he said. “For hanging out.”

  I was amazed that we were able to be platonic now. Something had truly changed. I was calm, staring at the ceiling. “Well, I wanted to leave things on good terms with you.”

  “Yeah, things are better now.” He nestled against me. “Much better.”

  “This Tessa thing... What she suggested...”

  “Mm,” he just said. “It’s OK, do whatever you want.”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  “It’s something that might take you a while to wrap your mind around.”

  There seemed no answer to that.

  “Goodbye is going to be hard,” I said. We had rested a bit more.

  “You can just go,” he murmured. “Leave me here. I’d rather not come down with you.”

  He didn’t want to watch me walk down the path, get into my car... I understood.

  “Will you be OK, Aaron?” I asked, sitting up.

  “I think so.” He had taken off his glasses and he regarded me, head resting on his arms.

  “How is therapy?”

  “Oh,” he said with a little laugh. “It’s a big help. I have a crush on Marc. It will be strange to tell him about this.”

  “Why, you think he’ll be jealous?” I put my hand briefly on his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

  “It’ll be awkward, since he told me I shouldn’t see you alone again. Maybe I’ll get a lecture.”

  “Bad boys usually do.”

  He laughed. “You’ve changed. I suppose this is what you’re like when you’re happy.”

  I kissed him gently on the lips. “I feel different.”

  “I’m glad.” Aaron’s voice was faint, but he was smiling.

  Tessa’s music had stopped now, and I felt strange about the possibility of her seeing me leave his room, but what could I do?

  I was standing by his bed. “I’ll always love you. I’ll always love this place.”

  He chuckled. “We’ll always love you too, Dave.”

  I glanced at my watch. I would get home to Matt about four o’ clock, not too horribly late. I felt like I could be calm when I saw him. He knew that Tessa was going to be there, and would probably not even ask about Aaron. On the other hand, I felt he could handle the truth.

  “My real father is a Jewish lawyer. My mother told me,” I said suddenly.

  He whistled. “That’s wild. Awesome. Are you going to look him up?”

  I would have said no, but the check was on my mind. Perhaps I could use the money to find Harold Weinstein, then fly out and meet him. All things seemed possible, suddenly.

  “I don’t know yet.”

 
I stood there looking at him and he looked back at me. Glancing at his wall, I noticed a big bare patch where the Nirvana poster had been.

  “What the heck? It’s gone!”

  “Yeah,” Aaron said. “Tessa said she’ll give me a painting to hang there instead.”

  I smiled. “Great idea.”

  “We’ll try out this friendship thing,” Aaron said lazily. “I’ll probably still hit on you every now and then. I can’t help it. I don’t do boundaries well.”

  I nodded. “I can’t hold it against you. I can always say no, right? Practice saying no?”

  He grinned. “You’re doing great.”

  I was at his bedroom door now. “Any last words?”

  “Keep in touch. Be happy,” Aaron said. “You can... you can say hi to Matt for me.”

  My mouth opened and shut.

  “I will.”

  Oh God, how to end this? There was something in me that wanted to stay. I hadn’t expected it, this pull.

  “Oh, Aaron,” I said.

  “Dave, go,” he told me. “It’s for the best. It’s what you want. I’ll see you on Facebook.”

  I leaned my head against his door. “You were... you were kind not to unfriend me.”

  “How could I unfriend you?” Aaron asked. “I don’t have many friends, and I actually feel like you’re rather a good one.”

  “I’ll see you.”

  “For sure.”

  So that was how I left it, Aaron dismissing me, affection in his voice. I tiptoed down the stairs, through the dim hallway, and out the front door of Elsie Street, which I closed but could not lock behind me.

  My loaded-up car waited at the curb. Matt waited at the houseboat, our floating home.

  I knew it, but stood on the street a while, reflecting. I wondered if, or when, I would be back. I wondered about Tessa, how long she would stay, whether she would find a male lover in the next month or two and then we would laugh about this day, the day that she had propositioned me and I had turned both of them down. She had certainly made herself scarce, I thought. Had I offended her?

  Fog was rolling in. I shivered, watching the Sutro Tower pulse in the distance, glowing red. I thought of the lighthouse on the coast in Martha’s Vineyard, which had seemed like a beacon shining privately for me when I stared out the window that evening, its steady beam illuminating the stormy waves.

  I lit a cigarette. It was time to go.