by Robin Brande
He seemed amused, but Eliza glanced back inside the house just the same. She could see Teina already setting up her supplies.
“I guess I should deal with this,” Eliza said.
“I guess you should,” he answered.
“Are we public, or are we not?” she asked.
“What do you want?”
“I’m...not sure.”
“Well, you think about it while I drive you home and save you from heat stroke.”
She still didn’t have an answer for him by the time he dropped her off.
“Will I see you tonight?”
“Uh-huh.” She said it without conviction.
“Are you worried?”
“Yes.”
“About what?” he asked. He shifted the car into park, and let the air conditioning continue to blast.
“I’m afraid she’s going to say something to someone.”
“And then it will be in the papers and on TV and everyone will know we’re lovers—is that the problem?” David asked.
Lovers. It sounded so...
“It wouldn’t be in the papers, would it?” How Frank Sawyer would love to have that scoop.
“Eliza, I was joking. I doubt anyone would care.”
“What about your family?” Eliza countered. “Sue, your mother—”
“Sue likes you.”
“Your mother doesn’t.”
“I’m not sure that’s true,” David said, “and I don’t care anyway. My mother isn’t making love to you.”
“What about...Ted?”
“Were you lovers?”
“No.”
“Then what are you worried about?”
It kept coming back to that: What are you worried about?
“Eliza, do you want to be with me or not?”
“Yes! Of course I do—David, you don’t even have to ask me that.”
“Good. And I want to be with you. So who cares what anyone thinks? We can do whatever we want. I only care what you think.”
He kissed her, and she returned the kiss. Knowing that a part of her cringed at the thought of anyone seeing.
What is your problem?
“Then I’ll see you tonight. I’ll cook. And Eliza?”
“Yes?”
“This time, why don’t you spend the night?”
* * *
“You had a visitor,” Hildy said.
Eliza froze. Her first and only thought was that it had been Ted. Although why would he bother? They hadn’t spoken in weeks—not since the lake.
“A visitor?” Eliza repeated, feeling a cold dread. “Who?”
“That little girl up the street—the Jackson girl.”
“Oh. Katie.” Eliza could feel the breath relax again in her lungs. “What did she want?”
“To invite you to some girls’ event—she’ll tell you all about. She said come down and see her when you’re free.”
Hildy studied Eliza’s face. “Something happen?”
Eliza sank into the chair across the table from her mother-in-law. “Psychoanalysis, please.”
“Shoot,” Hildy answered.
Eliza described everything that had just happened, from meeting the cleaning woman to her conversation with David in the car.
“Easy,” Hildy said. “Guilt.”
“About Jamey?”
“About a lot of things,” Hildy answered. “Jamey, Teddy, that Livia woman—”
“I don’t care about her.”
“Would you feel bad if she really loved Davey, and you stole him away from her?”
“Well...yes. I suppose. But I don’t think it was like that. She fooled around on him, remember?”
“Oh, so I was right!” Hildy cackled. “He told you that? Davey?”
“Mm, not exactly. But I think you might be right.”
“Of course I’m right,” Hildy said, “and I’m right about this. You’re a nice girl, Lizzy. You don’t like to hurt people’s feelings. You want everybody to be happy before you can be happy yourself.”
Eliza took a few grapes out of the bowl between them and sat back to consider Hildy’s theory. Did she feel guilty about Ted? She was pretty sure she didn’t feel bad about Livia—that was too extreme. But Ted? Maybe. He had tried awfully hard, over several months, and all it took was one morning for his brother to get her into bed.
One morning and a heroic, life-saving effort. And a display of patience that made Eliza want to rip the clothes right off him.
“And there’s Jamey,” Hildy reminded her. “Think that’s part of it?”
“Probably.”
Hildy reached across the kitchen table and patted her daughter-in-law’s ringless hand. If she’d noticed the change, she hadn’t mentioned it.
“It’ll pass,” Hildy said. “You just have to get used to someone new. Does he make you happy?”
“Yes.”
“Then let him make you happy,” Hildy said. “Take your foot off the brake. Jamey’s dead two years. I promise he doesn’t mind. He wants you to live your life.”
Before Eliza could argue, Hildy went on. “Hate to tell you, honey, but if the situation was reversed, Jamey would have found somebody else by now—I know he would. You know it, too. And you know what? I would have told him, ‘Good for you—Lizzy would have wanted that.’ And I wouldn’t be wrong, would I?”
“No,” Eliza answered quietly.
“So...problem solved?”
“I don’t know,” Eliza answered. “I have to think about it. You’re probably right—about all of it. I just have to...feel it.”
* * *
After lunch, Eliza walked down the street to visit the Jacksons. Katie answered the door.
“Guess what?”
“What?” Eliza asked.
“We’re going climbing tomorrow!”
“Climbing? What kind of climbing?”
Carolyn Jackson appeared at the door. “The girls voted to take climbing lessons this summer at the gym. Their first class is tomorrow night. We thought you might like to come.”
“Um...that’s really sweet of you...”
“Mom says you used to be a climber,” Katie said.
“I was. But I don’t do that anymore.”
“But you could still show us how,” Katie said.
“I’m sure they have instructors who can do that—”
“The girls were hoping...” Carolyn turned to her daughter. “Katie, why don’t you go get the brochure? You can show Eliza. That might give her a better idea.”
Katie took off up the stairs, while meanwhile Carolyn Jackson lowered her voice.
“It’s a self-esteem thing,” she said. “Girls’ Club is really big on finding women in the community that girls can model themselves after. We’ve had other women speakers come in all year—a firefighter, a products engineer—I’ll tell you the whole list later, it’s pretty impressive. So when I was telling Katie last night that you used to climb...”
“It was a long time ago,” Eliza said. “I really...don’t want to do that anymore.”
“You wouldn’t have to do any of the climbing,” Carolyn said. “Just be there for the girls to look at.” She laughed. “Honestly, I think that’s the most important part—the girls just stare at these women the whole time they’re talking, and don’t seem to hear a word they say. They’re looking at their clothes, their hair, their teeth—one of Katie’s classmates is obsessed with people’s teeth—”
“Here,” Katie said, handing Eliza the brochure. She pointed to the picture on front. “Look at that—doesn’t that look cool?”
“It does.” The photo showed gray concrete walls studded with colorful handholds and footholds.
“Have you ever climbed someplace like that?” Katie asked.
“Sure,” Eliza said. “Lots of times.”
“Is it hard?”
“Sometimes. Some of the routes are really hard. You have to stretch or let go and throw yourself upward to catch the next hold.”
Katie looked up at her mother, obviously nervous.
“But those are the advanced routes,” Eliza hurried to say. “You can work up to them. In the beginning you’ll learn all about the knots, and how to make sure you’re safe, and how to belay someone else—that’s holding on to their rope from down below so you can stop them if they start to fall...”
“Oh,” Katie said, looking less enthusiastic by the moment.
Eliza put her arm around the girl. “I’m making it sound harder than it is. It’s fun—you’ll have a great time. See,” she said to Carolyn, “this is why I shouldn’t come.”
“No, you have to come!” Katie said. “You’d be so great!”
“I…I think I’m going to pass,” Eliza said. “But you can tell me all about it. I really want to hear.”
“Are you sure?” Carolyn asked. “It’s just for about an hour.”
“Please?” Katie tried again.
“I’ll...think about it, okay?”
“It’s tomorrow at six,” Carolyn said. “You can keep the brochure—directions are on the back.”
“Okay. I’ll let you know.” Eliza started to turn away, when Carolyn stopped her.
“I’ll walk with you,” she said.
“It’s a hundred and eighty degrees out.”
“Just for a minute,” Carolyn said.
The two of them strolled down the driveway onto the sidewalk. The trees along the lane offered some shade, Eliza noticed, but not enough. She stuck her hat back on, even though it made her head sweat.
“So who was he?” Carolyn asked. “The man in the car last week?”
Eliza sighed. “I should have known that was coming. What took you so long?”
“I’ve been working split shifts,” Carolyn said. “This is my first chance to bug you. So. Is it anyone I know? Or are you going to say it’s none of my business, in which case I’ll be crushed?”
It’s none of your business.
Eliza made a decision, then and there.
“David Walsh.”
“Really?” Carolyn said. “I didn’t recognize his car. I guess I’ve never seen him in the neighborhood. He must take Florence Street to get out onto Highbridge.”
Eliza waited an extra moment. “That’s all you’re going to say?”
“Why? He’s a really nice guy,” Carolyn said. “Will and I went to school with him. He had that terrible stutter, poor guy. Kids made it really miserable for him. I don’t think he has it anymore though, does he?”
“No, he got rid of it,” Eliza said, relief spreading through her body. What had she expected Carolyn to say? “No! That’s scandalous!”
But Eliza knew suddenly what her problem had been—why she’d been so shy about telling people. It wasn’t because she felt guilty. She’d have to let Hildy know her theory had been wrong—
“So how did Ted take it?” Carolyn asked.
“What? Oh, I don’t think he knows.”
“Well, that’s going to be a good one,” Carolyn said with a laugh. “Love to be a fly on the wall there.”
“What do you mean?” Eliza asked.
“Those two have been at each other’s throats since they were kids. They compete for everything. Teddy was one of the ones who made school so hard for David. He had to be the most popular, have the most friends—”
“Who, Ted?”
“Of course Ted,” Carolyn said. “David hardly talked to anyone. I’m not even sure if he had any friends, to be honest. He started working for their dad when he was pretty young, and just sort of disappeared from the whole school social scene. Next thing I knew he was running the business, no surprise.” Carolyn shook her head. “It probably killed him when Teddy just showed up and their dad gave him a piece of it. It was all David’s show, but now here’s Teddy again.”
Eliza stood in the heat, dripping sweat, transfixed by the story. They were standing in front of Hildy’s house by now, but she couldn’t tear herself away to go inside.
“So you think they’re still like that?” Eliza asked. “Because I’ve been around them both, and they don’t seem to hate each other that much. Not that they particularly like each other—”
“Well, we’re all older now, aren’t we?” Carolyn said. “Although I’m thirty-five, just like David, and sometimes at family dinners my older brother and I act like we’re still seven and ten. He just has to push the right buttons.”
“So you think it’s going to be a problem that I dated both of them?”
Carolyn laughed. “What do you think?”
* * *
Eliza set up the fan directly in front of her bed and sat there for the next few hours, thinking.
She wasn’t ready to tell Hildy any of it. She still wasn’t sure she understood.
As the time grew closer to evening, Eliza wondered what she was going to do. What she was going to say. Whether she should say anything at all.
Not to Hildy, but to David.
Eliza packed a bag full of overnight essentials. She added a sleep outfit, then took it out again. That was part of her epiphany when she was talking to Carolyn: the why of why she felt so insecure telling anyone about her and David. Eventually she pared down what she was bringing to what could fit in her larger purse.
“I may not be back until morning,” Eliza told her mother-in-law. “Are you going to be okay here by yourself?”
“Daisy and I will get by,” Hildy answered. “You have fun.”
Eliza hesitated before going down the stairs. “Do you think David and Ted hate each other?”
“Hate? That’s a strong word,” Hildy said. “You saw them at that Easter dinner, same as I did. They didn’t act like they hated each other. Not lovey-dovey, but decent.”
Eliza nodded. “See you in the morning. Call me if you need anything.”
Hildy smiled. “All I need is for you to have fun.”
* * *
She could have called David for a ride, or asked Hildy to drive her there. But Eliza wanted the walk. Even in the awful, stifling heat, her mind seemed to do its best thinking when her body was doing something monotonous like walking.
By the time she reached David’s, she’d made a decision.
And as soon as she saw him there in the kitchen, leaning over steaming pots on the stove, then turning when he heard her come in, and smiling in a way she couldn’t imagine as anything but warm and kind and genuine, she changed her mind again.
“Hi.” She molded her body against his and gave him the kind of kiss she’d given him that morning, and the morning before, and the mornings and nights before that. Just nine days together, and she felt as easy and comfortable with him as she had after years with Jamey. Effortless. Natural. Right.
Which was part of the problem, she’d come to realize that afternoon—part of the reason why she felt so shy about letting the world know.
It was too easy. Too fast. Too right.
It was like the feeling she had sometimes when she was rappelling. Standing on the edge of a cliff, feet braced against the rock, her body supported by a harness around her waist and thighs.
There was always that moment when she didn’t want to lean back, didn’t want to kick off, to feel her body falling through the air. She had to believe in the rope and the anchor, trust that they would hold her, but there was always that space of time in freefall when she couldn’t actually be sure.
And as Jamey had proven, she was right not to believe.
But sometimes, if the day was just right, and the air felt pure, and Eliza knew she was strong and ready, she could kick off and actually enjoy it. Close her eyes and take pleasure in the fall. Savor those few seconds of weightlessness before the rope tensed and her feet touched rock again.
It felt like that with David. Like the freefall on a perfect day. And that, Eliza realized, was why she’d been fighting it.
It was all too easy: Too easy to forget Jamey. Too easy to fall for someone else. After two years of grieving, it was as though it had all been wiped away
in a single day. Eliza felt happy again. Alive. In lo—
Eliza stopped herself. She needed to be more careful than that.
“Can that wait?” she asked.
David turned off all the burners. “If not, we’ll order pizza.”
25
He was still dressed in his work clothes, the khaki pants and white button-down, a slight scent of sweat on his shirt that Eliza didn’t mind. He smelled different from Jamey. He tasted different.
Eliza knew that sex wasn’t love. She knew there was a difference between the heart and the body. A person could feel excited by someone, hungry for them, but that was just the animal side of being human. It allowed cave people to start populating the earth.
She unbuttoned and unzipped and stripped David down to his skin. Every time he tried to remove her clothes, she told him to wait. She wanted to see him first, to really look at him in the light, touch him when it was only him, and not let him distract her with his mouth and hands.
He was hard already, and she liked that. Just the thought of what she might do was enough for him.
“Come here,” she said. She took him by the hand and led him toward the exercise room. They’d been in there once before, after the initial tour, and she’d liked the way they used the equipment.
She led him to one of the weight benches and told him to lie down. His legs draped on either side, bracing him against the floor.
Eliza straddled the bench, sitting close to him, not touching.
She’d left the light on. Not something she normally did with Jamey, although they’d made love plenty of times in the open air, in daylight, in a tent or in the grass, on the bank of some natural pool where they’d dipped at the end of a long day to wash off the dirt and sweat.
Eliza didn’t mind the light, but she’d always preferred the dark. She was a virgin when Jamey met her, and she worried those first few months whether she was doing it right, whether the expression on her face looked right, whether Jamey wished she had more experience. In the dark, she could let go a little more, let her body simply respond. Even years later, if they’d begun with the lights on, Jamey would sometimes get up and turn them off again.