We watched as the waiter worked through his crowd of customers. Robin suddenly said, “How about I give you and your friend a lift to the airport tomorrow?”
“I couldn’t ask you to get up at four in the morning. We have to be there by six.”
“I want to.”
I kissed her lightly on the lips. “You’re a saint, you know that?”
She ran a sliver of tongue over her lips, gazing at me with faint lust in her eyes. “I just want every moment possible with you before you go, that’s all,” she said before getting up out of her seat. “Complete self-interest on my part.”
While Robin went off to settle the bill, Debs scurried over to my chair and gave me a tight hug, whispering in my ear, “She’s a keeper.”
“We’ll see,” I smiled. “And you try not to run your mascara when you say goodbye to Kirk either.”
“I’ll manage,” she said. “Come on. We’re going to be fine. It’s not like we’re saying goodbye to Robin and Kirk forever. Let’s be strong.”
When Robin and Kirk rejoined us, Debs herded us into a group hug. If the four of us looked like the love struck fools we were, so be it. Robin and I bid Debs and her beau adieu and said a quick goodbye to the others before taking our leave for our last night together. I knew I would not sleep and suspected Robin wouldn’t either. The tension between us was palpable.
“Debs looks happier than I’ve seen her in such a long time,” I said idly as we walked back to our room to pack.
“Kirk seems like a nice enough bloke. I hope it works out for them,” Robin said.
We spent the rest of the walk in silence, each of us preoccupied. Sorrow threatened to take hold of me. When would I see her again?
In our room, I was blindly placing items into my suitcase, trying to focus on what I’d wear in the morning when her arms encircled me in a warm hug.
“Thank you for a wonderful week.”
I turned toward her, wrapped my arms around her waist, and tightened our embrace.
“You’re most welcome.” I was sure my heart was breaking, and I threw my focus back into packing in order to avoid becoming a humiliating, sobbing mess.
Robin helped me finish. She even managed to fit in all the souvenirs I had bought.
“Shall I place a wakeup call?” she asked me after we were done.
“You can, but I doubt I’ll need one.”
“Me either.”
“I’ll miss you.” The lump in my throat remained insistent.
“I’ll miss you more,” she replied. “But first, I want to make love to you, and I don’t want us to think about being apart.”
I let her help me undress and watched as she cast her clothes aside, knowing I’d never tire of seeing the way she looked back at me.
Initial sweet caresses grew more urgent and forceful. Our bodies fell together into a steady rhythm, resulting in two very sated souls—souls from opposite sides of the pond. Robin twisted a lock of my hair around her finger as she stared into my eyes. “I still can’t believe you have to leave tomorrow.”
I turned away, unable to bear it. It was official: I would never again leave her without spilling an ocean of tears.
The silence as we rolled our suitcases to the elevators was like a heavy raincloud about to burst.
“I’ll always remember this con as the best one ever,” I said. My voice broke, and I swallowed back hard to keep from crying.
“Yeah?” A hint of a self-satisfied grin spread over Robin’s face. “Why’s that?”
“It’s where I met you,” I said simply.
Seconds before the doors opened, we kissed inside the elevator, as if it were our last, CCTV be damned.
My lips tingled long after I had checked out and settled my rental car bill. As we waited in silence for the valet to bring up Robin’s car, I fought the urge to grab her hand and pull her into another embrace. Already I regretted her taking us to the airport. I was really hoping I didn’t blubber all the way there, with Debs as witness.
Silent tears slid down Debs’s cheeks as she met us at the curb. At least one of us tried to keep a stiff upper lip. I knew if I climbed into the backseat to comfort my friend, Debs and I would keen all the way to Bristol, so I sat in the passenger seat next to Robin. A couple of times on the drive Robin squeezed my knee, as if to reassure me, or maybe herself, that I was okay. The silence that grew as we got closer to the airport became excruciating, but then to break it would be certain doom too, because once I started crying, I wouldn’t stop. It was the longest two hours I could remember.
As soon as we were in the building, Debs choked out, “I’ll leave you to your goodbyes. Thank you, Robin. Don’t be a stranger. I hope we see you again soon.”
Debs and Robin exchanged hugs. “See you in there,” she told me and left for the check-in desk.
Robin must have noticed the tears burning behind my eyes and my wobbling lip, because she abruptly announced, “It’s no bloody use pretending you’re brave, you have to believe it first. Come here.”
She locked me in a loving embrace as I soaked her shirt with my waterfall of tears.
“Hey, hey,” she said, “this is not good-bye forever you know. We’ll figure something out. You have my number now. Text when you board, when you land, and when you get home, all right?”
“Okay.” I managed a smile between wiping away my tears with my hand and planting one long kiss on her lips, but then I forced myself to turn away and not look back. No matter what I wished could happen, it wasn’t like I was going back to the UK anytime soon. We could make optimistic, wishful promises all we liked, but the awful truth that I would never tell Robin was that I wasn’t expecting a long-distance relationship to last. Even as the taste of her kiss still lingered on my lips, I started a new file for the symbolic cabinet in my brain, labeling it Fond Memories Across the Pond. I deposited there every detail about Robin and me, then closed the folder and shut the cabinet door.
I did genuinely think it was shutting forever.
CHAPTER 15
For the first few months after we’d parted, our e-mails dripped with longing and sexual innuendos, interspersed with talk about what a good team we had been at the swan rescue and all the silly, joking notes we had shared at the conference. She had taken to greeting me with “Hello, Jam” sometimes when her face would first appear on our Skype calls.
But I found we covered most subjects except for the direction our relationship was headed. The intensity began to fade, and the relationship began to fall into a comfortable pattern of texts, e-mails, and IM chats. I didn’t even have her home phone number, just her cell! Some days I felt like all we had were static memories and e-mails. Maybe it was time to move on.
But compared to Robin, nobody interested me in the least. I toiled my butt off at work to fill the emptiness and to ignore the uncertainty gnawing at my gut, and it was like the aftermath of my breakup with Faith all over again. Aside from being up for another promotion and a handsome raise, I didn’t have much to show for my private life. If Robin and I missed a day of contact when real life or the time difference got in the way, I’d conjure up every worst case scenario of Robin hooking up with some hot Brit while I maintained total celibacy. I couldn’t justify my jealousy when Robin never professed to be mine or vice versa, but that didn’t stop me from feeling that way. Some days, I found myself reminded of the long times I spent apart from Faith, supposedly while she was on business trips but actually off leading a double life with her husband. The comparisons only compounded my loneliness, my fear of commitment, and my mistrust, along with worry that I was misreading Robin’s intentions as I had done with Faith’s.
Debs was getting as fed up with my moping as I was, but she had plans to spend Thanksgiving with Kirk’s family in California, a lot more promising than what I had with Rob
in.
She stood at the end of my desk, peering at me until I finally looked up. “Janalyn, you obviously have to make the first move—take things to the next level. Go to England for Thanksgiving, for God’s sakes.”
“What? And miss turkey with all the trimmings? They don’t even celebrate Thanksgiving. Besides, my mother would never forgive me.” Of course I wanted to see Robin. I wanted to spend every moment with her, but it’s not like she had extended an invitation.
“Well, then, why not spend Thanksgiving and Chanukah with the family and think about spending Christmas and New Year’s in England? What is Robin doing for the holidays? Don’t you two discuss anything?” Debs’s voice rose high enough to startle nearby birds right out of the trees.
“We talk every day. Well, most days. Actually, today when I logged in, she hadn’t written, which is strange. She usually mails before she leaves for work, unless she’s traveling.”
“Can’t you call her?”
“No, I can’t call her. It costs a fortune, and besides, she could be in a meeting. The last thing she needs is for her cell phone to go off there.”
“Janalyn, that’s an excuse, and you know it.” I grimaced, but didn’t refute it. She shrugged. “Oh well. I have to get back to my desk, which is piled higher than the Empire State.”
I sat at my desk in a total trance. Why hadn’t we talked on the phone in all this time? We instant messaged if we were both free and at home and awake at the same time, but we never actually picked up a phone. We tried Skype a few times, but gave up when the connection never worked properly. Either she was too cheap to try a different broadband connection, or she didn’t want to Skype with me.
No. I couldn’t keep doing this. If I dwelled on all my doubts, I’d never get anything accomplished at work. I slammed that hypothetical drawer full of memories shut and attacked the unattended file on my desk instead.
It was nearly eleven at night when I finally finished and walked through the front door to my place. By then, I had worked myself into a frenzy. The whole way home, I wrote and rewrote in my head what I’d say to Robin, in an endless loop until I was so nauseous I thought I’d throw up. All I needed was the nerve to let her know how I really felt and accept the consequences if it all turned to shit. I kicked off my shoes, dropped my keys in their designated dish, and headed straight for the computer, ignoring hunger and thirst. I’d made up my mind. I was going to write her an e-mail explaining that while I really enjoyed our banter and would always cherish the fond memories, blah, blah, blah, I couldn’t keep hanging on indefinitely and was ready to move on. It wasn’t fair to either of us to waste the best years of our lives.
I pressed the icon for my e-mail, my fingers literally trembling. I had over one hundred fifty mails, mostly junk, because I didn’t dare check personal e-mails at work with all the surveillance going on there.
I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath until I exhaled after seeing Good News in the subject header with Robin’s e-mail address next to it. Was I really planning to break up with her tonight? Really? Her e-mail with the optimistic heading was the last thing I’d expected.
Hiya Jan,
Good news! I’ve decided to attend the next CDC meeting in North Carolina at the end of the month, and I hoped you could meet me there. I’ve attached my itinerary. Have a look and let me know what you think. You won’t have to pay for the hotel or rental car. Miss you, Robin x
PS I think Scott Spencer Enterprises should strongly consider sending their own delegate (hint, hint). Don’t you?
She was coming to the States! Robin was coming to this side of the pond! Before checking out my calendar, I opened her flight info and searched cheap airfares. I could not wait for tomorrow to ask my boss for the time off. Better yet, I had to work out how best to plant the seed in Marcus’s brain that we were missing a golden opportunity to expand our world health initiative even further by showing our face at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention meeting. How ideal that would be if he decided to send me. I called Debs at once to get her input on how I could pull this off. I had every body part crossed that I’d not only be in Robin’s arms next month—I could not stand the wait—but that I’d also be the new company delegate convening with the CDC.
But first, and in complete Janalyn style, I replied to Robin’s e-mail, telling her of my elation at her news. It would be six months, eight days and fifteen hours from our last kiss when she arrived.
I AM SO THERE!!! Miss you too, Jan x
Then I rang Debs.
The next day at work, I lasted four whole minutes after Marcus arrived before lightly tapping on his door.
“What’s the big deal, Jacobs?” Marcus said.
“There’s a meeting next month that will move Scott Spencer forward in the direction we want. The CDC is holding their annual conference in North Carolina this year; it should not be missed. And I should be the one to go.” I held my breath.
Marcus’s eyes went distant in thought.
“Sure,” he said with what sounded like pleased surprise in his voice “Submit a proposal and I’ll consider it.”
All at once I let out a silent whoop. He hadn’t dismissed me! There was hope. Either way, I was going to North Carolina, even if I had to use up all my vacation time. I could have hugged the air out of him with gratitude. Debs took one look at me as I practically skipped my way back to my desk and flashed me two thumbs up.
North Carolina here I come!
I texted Debs so as not to speak in front of our coworkers within earshot. I didn’t want to invite competition.
But I mustn’t get ahead of myself. He said I should submit a proposal. Whooo freaking whooo.
You’ve got this! Let me know if you need any help.
Thanks.
It took heroic strength to concentrate long enough until lunch when I could fire up my iPad at a nearby Starbucks and write up a quick proposal. With what I had written, I was sure I couldn’t lose. God only knows where this confidence came from, but Robin was already rubbing off on me. I couldn’t wait until Marcus gave the go-ahead, although I knew I should. I texted Robin the good news. She acted as excited as I felt.
Drumming my fingers on the desk after I had imbibed more caffeine than my already jittery nerves could take, I waited and wondered and probably drove Debs up a wall when I wouldn’t stop shaking my right leg, causing both our cubicles to vibrate. When I thought I’d explode if I didn’t do something, Marcus’s secretary called me into his office. I bolted up, smoothed out my skirt, and walked in like I owned the space where I stood. At least that’s what I silently assured myself in order to still my otherwise shaking limbs. It wasn’t the end of the world either way, but with all my being, I wanted this. I didn’t mind going there on vacation, but it would be like being a trophy wife to watch Robin work. I liked to think our relationship would start and remain on equal footing. I never wanted to be in the position of putting my partner’s needs completely ahead of my own, leaving nothing left of me to fall back on in case things went sour.
“Come in, Jacobs and close the door.”
I did and waited a beat. “Sit,” he said.
“I’ve read your proposal and on short notice. I was impressed, but it was your work in Europe that threw the ball in your court. Can you be ready in a month?”
“Yes, sir!”
“Good, I’ll have Cynthia put you on the registration and all that.”
I didn’t dare tell Marcus that I didn’t need a hotel room. But I would book a flight today. The day was full of surprises, and it was all good.
That evening when I got home, I dropped everything and headed straight for my desktop. I usually turned it off if I was going to be away for more than an hour or so, but that morning, in my haste to speak to my boss, I’d simply forgotten. Now I was glad I only had to jiggle the
mouse and voila! There it was: she was still signed onto Facebook. I glanced at the right hand corner of my computer screen—seven fifteen meant quarter past midnight on her side of the pond. She had stayed up past her bedtime.
Hi there! My boss said yes. And get this: I’m going to work too.
Brilliant! Book a flight and send me the details.
Her instant response made my heart race.
I already have.
I then shot her the flight confirmation details in an e-mail.
Got it, thanks. I’m pleased. I’ll reserve us a double room, yeah?
Perfect.
Sorry, but must sign off for now, early day tomorrow. Great news though. I’m really happy. Sweet dreams, mate. x.
Me too. Can’t wait. Sleep tight. x.
There was a lot to prepare, but I zipped through my PowerPoint preps, designed and ordered leaflets, and wrote two lectures. I only needed one, but it never hurt to have a backup just in case they asked at the spur of the moment.
“You don’t even need an airplane,” Debs said to me one day when she brought our usual dose of coffee to my cubicle. “You’re already flying way above the clouds.”
“How cliché,” I replied, but I continued glowing like the lighthouse at Robert Moses State Park.
More than one colleague asked me if I’d changed my hairstyle or started working out at the gym, because I looked and felt better than I had in months. Eventually, I realized I had to tone down my enthusiasm, lest I tempt fate. I also feared the six-month gap might make Robin and me shy with each other. It was not like we were strangers after the last conference, and we had continued to be in touch with each other ever since. But still, I was a ruminator from birth and often got lost in needless overthinking, so maybe that’s all it was. I’ve often thought I should take up yoga or needlepoint or something to channel my tendency toward out-of-control fretting into something more constructive.
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