I pushed my plate away, picked up my wineglass, and adjusted my position on the couch so I had one leg crossed beneath me and faced Alicia rather than the TV.
“Are you okay?” I finally asked gently. They were the first words spoken by either of us since I’d entered Alicia’s space.
She lifted one shoulder, then sipped her wine.
“Gisele told me what happened. I’m so sorry, Alicia.” I reached to touch her arm, but she flinched away from me, which felt a bit like a stab to my heart. I tried a different tack. “Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve been worried about you.” I made sure to keep any accusation out of my voice, to be as supportive and nonjudgmental as I could. I studied her, took in her gray sweats and oversized burgundy sweatshirt that looked like it might have been older than me. The cuffs were frayed, as was the neckline, and it hung off one shoulder in a way that I would’ve found devastatingly sexy in any other circumstances. She wore no makeup, and she was beautiful despite the obvious pain in her eyes.
Alicia was silent for so long, I became fairly certain she wasn’t going to answer. But then she did. “It’s not really something I talk about. To anyone.” Her voice was hoarse, and it occurred to me that she might not have spoken to anybody in days. She sipped her wine, not looking at me.
“Maybe it would help. To talk about it.”
She shrugged.
“Well, I’m right here if you want to.” I sank farther into the cushions as I watched her face.
She gave one nod and went back to her wine.
“More pizza?” I asked after a while. I didn’t wait for an answer, just took her plate and mine and went back into the kitchen. Once there, I braced my hands on the edge of the counter and let my head drop between my shoulders as I blew out a breath. I had no idea how to proceed here. I was totally winging it, and as somebody who plans out her life, winging it was so far from comfortable for me, it was laughable. But all I wanted was to be there for Alicia. If she wanted to talk, I was here. If she wanted silence, I could do that. I reminded myself that the most important thing was to simply be there. I swallowed down my emotion and dished out more pizza.
Back in the living room, I reclaimed my seat and set the plates on the coffee table. I’d brought the wine as well and set the bottle down. Long moments of silence went by, and I let my eyes roam the room, again surprised by how barren it looked.
“How long have you lived here?” I asked, before I could analyze whether I should.
“Fifteen months, I think.” Alicia was looking out the French doors.
“Oh,” I said, trying to hide my surprise and doing a terrible job of it. I swallowed, a sudden lightbulb going off in my brain. “This is where your whole live-in-the-moment attitude comes from, isn’t it?”
She turned to me and, again, I felt her anger, her frustration with the situation, with me, with life in general. “Nothing is permanent, Lacey. Nothing. Planning for the future is stupid and naïve. Anything can be taken at any time.”
“Of course it can,” I said, keeping my voice level. “That’s what life is. For everybody.” I waited for her to unload on me, but she just got sadder, which I didn’t think was possible.
“It’s worse for some of us than for others.”
I nodded quickly. “It is. That’s true. That’s also life.”
Alicia took a beat, glanced at me and then away. “Life can be horrible.”
“It can.”
“And so unfair.”
“Yes.”
“It can break your heart. Into a million little pieces so you’re sure you won’t ever be able to recover.” Her eyes filled with tears, which made mine follow suit.
“I know,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
She looked at me again, and there was so much in her face then. In her eyes. Sorrow, need, pain, confusion. “Would you just hold me?” she asked, and her voice was so small that I almost didn’t hear her at all.
“Oh, my God, of course I will. Of course I will. Come here.” I opened my arms and she moved closer. I leaned back a bit so we could both stretch our legs out. She was on the inside of the couch, tucked snugly between my body and the back. She positioned her head just under my chin, tossed a leg over mine, and draped an arm across my midsection. I wrapped my arms around her, held her as close as I could, pressed my lips to her forehead. We lay that way for a long time—or at least it felt like a long time. Maybe it wasn’t. I squeezed her shoulder with my hand and that’s when I felt the very subtle trembling. I held her tighter and the trembling got stronger. I pressed my mouth, my nose into her hair and shifted us a bit so I had a better grip and she let out a little whimper.
“It’s okay, Alicia. I’m right here.” I dug my fingers into her hair. “I’m right here. Let it out. It’s okay. Just let it go.”
And then her breath hitched, and she didn’t try to hide it any more. The first sob came out of her like it was ripped from her lungs against her will, like she’d been trying to hold it in and simply couldn’t any longer. She closed her fingers around my shirt, squeezing a handful in her fist, and turned her face into my chest. My eyes filled, and I felt my own tears well up and spill over, but I did my best to stay quiet. This was her moment, her anguish, and I didn’t want to steal any of it from her. It tore me to shreds to see her in such pain. To feel her in such pain.
She cried against my neck, and I held her to me and allowed her to do so.
For as long as she needed to.
Forever, if she needed to.
“I’ve got you,” I told her with all the tenderness I had in my heart. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
I said things like that for what felt like the remainder of the evening. Alicia cried like she’d been holding it all in for years. Maybe she had. There was nothing I could do but hold her and tell her it was all right, that I was here, that I would hold her as long as she wanted me to, that I had her.
“I love you,” I heard myself whisper at one point. If she heard me, she had no reaction, and I decided that was probably for the best. It wasn’t really the right time to be spilling my own stuff to her, so I didn’t say it again. But holding her while she cried, wanting to do nothing more than be there for her, be whatever she needed at whatever time, that’s exactly what I felt. I loved this woman. I loved her.
I had no idea what time we drifted off. Or what time I drifted off. I knew when Alicia did, as I felt her body slacken, her breathing even out. I lay there in the dark living room, uneaten pizza on the coffee table and a woman with a broken heart in my arms, and there was no place else I would rather have been.
It seems kind of weird and crazy to say it was perfect, but in that very moment, somehow it was.
* * *
While I wasn’t at all uncomfortable the next morning, it was very apparent that Alicia was. I think she tried to climb off me without waking me up, but when that proved impossible and I opened my eyes and greeted her, she couldn’t look at me.
“Hey,” she said, her eyes puffy from a night of sobbing. “I, um, have an appointment this morning, so I need to get in the shower.”
I nodded, surprised she was going in at all after yesterday. “Okay. I can get out of your way.” She gave one nod back to me, then headed up the stairs.
I took the plates into the kitchen, found the wine’s cork and plugged it, did my best to clean up without going through her cabinets to find things like plastic wrap. I put the plates and the wineglasses in the dishwasher, then heard the shower turn on above me.
For long moments, I stood in the kitchen, leaning back against the counter, trying to decide if I had a good reason to hang. There really wasn’t one at this point. Alicia was embarrassed. It was obvious. Coming to the conclusion that I didn’t want to exacerbate that feeling for her, I decided I’d just go, give her some space and some time, and then maybe pop in to her office later to see how she was doing.
That seemed like a good plan.
I went back into the living room, folded the afghan
, fluffed the pillows, and took a last look around. It really was a very beautiful room with tons of potential…potential that Alicia didn’t tap into even a little bit. It looked like she’d moved in last week.
Nothing’s permanent, Lacey. Nothing.
Her words echoed in my head.
Anything can be taken at any time.
I was suddenly hit with a wave of sadness so heavy it doubled me over. I stood with my hands on my knees like I’d just sprinted the hundred-yard dash. The depth of Alicia’s sadness had also colored her outlook on life—which I wasn’t really surprised by, but still. I shook my head in sorrow for this woman I cared way too much about, as I gathered my things and closed her front door behind me.
* * *
I took my time at home, brewed myself some coffee, stood in the kitchen taking small sips as I replayed the previous night in my head. I’d never seen anybody in that much pain before, and it had obviously affected me. I was sure it was all amplified by my feelings for Alicia, but wow. Her pain and sorrow were practically tangible. It almost felt like I could’ve reached into the air above where we lay on the couch and grabbed it in my hand, turned it and examined it from different angles. It was that big, that strong, that solid.
It wasn’t lost on me that we had mirror families, that despite Scott being older than me and Ryan being younger than Alicia, we had similar home lives. Two siblings, two parents who loved us. I still had all of mine and Alicia had none of hers. It was heartbreakingly unfair, and for a quick moment, I felt guilty.
I showered and dressed and gathered my things. It occurred to me on my way out the door that having my entire morning focused on Alicia made me almost forget that Leo wasn’t there. Almost. I threw a scoop of his food into a Ziploc baggie and stuck that in my bag, though I was pretty sure Mary was filling him full of anything and everything. He probably had a donut for breakfast.
Alicia’s car was nowhere to be seen, but then I remembered she hadn’t said she had to go to work in those exact words. She’d said she had a meeting, which could very easily have been off-site. I chose to go with that and headed upstairs.
The boxes were gone. Mary was at her desk, typing away on her keyboard, Leo sitting at her feet. When he came running to me, my spirits lifted. Seriously, is there anything better than a dog who’s ecstatic to see you? I scooped him up, and Leo wiggled happily in my arms.
“Were you good for Aunt Mary? Hmm?”
“Of course he was,” Mary said. “He was a perfect little angel, as always.”
“He ate his dinner with no problem?” It wasn’t uncommon for Mary to take Leo home on occasion or dog-sit him for me, so I’d given her a bag of his kibble to keep at her house.
“No problem at all. He loves my beef stew.”
I shook my head in mock disapproval, but my grin gave me away. I loved that Mary loved my dog as much as I did. And her beef stew was the best I’d ever had in my life, so I couldn’t really blame Leo.
“Thanks so much for taking him.”
“Any time at all. He’s good company.” Mary’s gaze grew serious. “Everything okay?”
I nodded. I wasn’t about to share Alicia’s personal tragedy with anyone, nor did I want to dredge up the unpleasantness with Brandon that had happened yesterday. Instead, I smiled at Mary. “Totally okay.” Leo and I headed into my office.
Try as I might, I could not manage to keep myself from glancing out the window at the parking lot below every five minutes to see if a baby blue BMW convertible had magically appeared. She’s fine, I told myself. It’s a rough time for her. Just relax. But I had an alarmingly hard time heeding the advice from my own brain. Which is always a bit worrisome.
Lunchtime came and went, but I wasn’t hungry. I forced myself to eat a granola bar I found in my desk drawer, but thinking about anything more made me slightly nauseous. As I sat there staring at my computer screen, but not actually seeing anything on it, I was suddenly hit with the realization that Scott and Gisele had gone out the night before. I stood up, deciding to go find out how it went.
I left Leo with Mary and headed down the hall. It wasn’t until I got to the cheery red door of Just Wright that I stopped and remembered that Brandon was probably there. I decided I’d just take the high road. I gave a quick rap on the door frame, then headed into the office and took quick steps in the direction of Gisele’s desk, seeing Brandon out of the corner of my eye.
“Hey, Brandon,” I said as I passed him. He didn’t respond, but I was okay with that. It wasn’t really an olive branch—more like a twig—but I’d keep at it.
Gisele sat looking what I could only describe as “dreamily” out the window to her right, chin propped in a hand. Her top today was sunshine yellow, and I was once again envious of how amazing she looked in bright colors. She looked up just as I approached.
“Hey,” she said, and her tone told me she was happy to see me. Or maybe just happy in general. “How are you?”
“I’m fine,” I said, taking a seat in the orange plastic chair at the end of her desk. “But the important question is, how are you? How did it go last night?” I raised my eyebrows expectantly.
Her smile grew, crinkling the skin at the corners of her eyes. “It went great. I had a terrific time. He’s so nice.”
I squinted at her. “He is? Are we talking about the same guy? Scott Chamberlain? The one who used to give me noogies and tried to convince me our parents found me in a ditch and only took me home because they felt sorry for me? That guy? That guy’s nice?”
“Well, I can’t speak for the noogies or your apparent adoption, but he was wonderful to me. I had so much fun. We’re going out again tonight.”
“Another date? Already?”
“It is Friday, Lacey.”
“Good point. Wow. That’s great.” She was floating, and it was a sight that made me happy for her. I made a mental note to give Scott a serious talking-to because I really liked Gisele, and despite the discussion he and I’d already had, I wanted to reiterate a few things.
“Tell me more about him,” Gisele asked, again propping her chin in her hand and settling in like a child waiting for story time.
I chuckled at the image. “Like what?”
“Tell me something most people wouldn’t know.”
I pursed my lips and stared off into space as I thought. “Okay. He’s terrified of mice. Like, freaks out when he sees one, complete with girly squeals of terror.”
Gisele laughed. “Mice? I mean, I don’t enjoy mice, but—”
“Terrified.”
“Noted. What else?”
“He’s a pretty excellent cook.”
“No.”
“Oh, yes. Ask him to make you his chicken parmesan some time. He’s famous for it.”
“Seriously?”
“I kid you not. Whenever I do him a favor, that’s what I want as payment: a big pan of his chicken parm.”
“I am so filing that away.”
This was kind of fun, I realized.
Once our quiet laughter died down, Gisele’s expression grew serious. She lowered her voice and asked, “Did you go last night?”
I nodded and picked up a stray paper clip from her desk. “I did.”
“And?”
I gazed out the window as I toyed with the clip. “It was…tough.” A quick glance at Brandon told me he didn’t seem to be paying any attention to us, thankfully, so I went on. “She was…in a pretty bad place.” I didn’t go into detail. I didn’t want to betray any perceived confidence there might have been around the time I spent there, and I also assumed Gisele had a pretty good handle on what I’d been walking into without me giving her a play-by-play, having known Alicia for much longer than I had. But I gave her an expression that I hoped projected what it had been like. “I actually stayed overnight.”
“You did?” Gisele’s eyes widened. “Really?”
“Well.” I shook my head and lifted one shoulder. “Not in any capacity other than friend.” My brain tosse
d me a flashback of Alicia, broken and sobbing in my arms. “I just…held her. We fell asleep on her couch.”
Gisele was quiet for a long moment before she finally spoke. “That’s kind of big,” she said, covering my hand with hers so I’d make eye contact. When I did, she nodded. “She doesn’t often let anybody get that close.”
“Oh,” I said. “I was just trying to help her.”
“Sounds like you did.”
“I don’t know. She was…different this morning. Back to her walled-off self.”
Gisele sat back with a nod. “Yeah, that’s not surprising. That girl’s a tough one to crack. But it sounds like you made some progress.”
“Maybe.” I set the now-straight paper clip back on the desk, feeling a small spark of hope at Gisele’s words. I stood. “Okay, gotta get back to work. I hope you have a blast tonight.”
“I’ve got a good feeling.”
I pointed at her. “Remember. Chicken parm.”
“Got it.”
As I crossed the office, I was stopped in my tracks when Alicia came through the door. For a moment, we each stood still, seeing each other, but also glancing away, as if too much eye contact was forbidden or something.
“Hey,” I said quietly, painfully aware that Brandon was only a few yards behind me.
“Hi,” Alicia said. She set down the bag she was carrying, as well as her purse. Just put them right on the floor inside the doorway. “Can I talk to you for a minute?” Her voice was quiet and her eyes darted around.
“Sure,” I said, waiting as an odd sense of dread seeped into my blood like ice water.
“Out here?” She backed into the hall as she waved for me to follow.
“Sure,” I said again, and trailed her out into the hallway and a couple feet down the wall, keeping my eyes on her elegant charcoal gray suit and matching heels rather than looking at her face. Something told me I wouldn’t like what was in her eyes, so the four-year-old in me decided if I simply didn’t look, whatever bad thing it was didn’t exist.
Right Here, Right Now Page 20