“H-hello?” I choked, racing into the bedroom. The boys were just waking up. No Amelia.
“It’s me,” Elisabeth said with a tired voice.
“Hi. Uh, how are you?”
“The kids okay?”
“Fine,” I said, running back into the kitchen. Amelia wasn’t there either. I glanced at the lock on the front door, and it was bolted. I looked at the windows in the living room, and they were still locked. She had to be here somewhere.
“They sleep okay?”
“Yes.” I ran to the bathroom, but the lights were off and it was empty. I wanted to collapse, but amazing myself, I kept the chipper ring in my voice. “So, how are you?”
“I need you to keep the kids a little longer, if you could.”
I stopped in my hallway. “Longer? How much longer?” “I don’t know. Things are bad here, though.”
“How bad?”
“Bad.”
I closed my eyes. I had so much work to do on my play. How was I going to work with three kids here?
“Elisabeth, it’s just that—”
“Henry has left. He packed a suitcase last night.”
My eyes flew open. Amelia. Where was she? I checked the coat closet. “I’m sorry, Elisabeth.”
“I just need to sort through some things, okay? I can’t do that with the kids. They’re going to ask where their dad is, and I need to just . . . I just need some time.”
I sighed. Should I break it to her now or later that I’d lost her daughter? “Okay, sure. Whatever you need.”
“Thank you!” Elisabeth said.
I leaned against the wall. This was going to be great.
Just great.
“I’ll call you later,” she said, “to check on how everything is going. Oh, and Leah?”
“Yeah?”
“Just FYI, Amelia has a tendency to hide under beds, so if you think you’ve lost her, look under there.”
I laughed as if that were the most absurd thought imaginable. “Okay. I’ll talk to you later.” I hung up the phone and rushed to the bedroom, dropping to my knees like a soldier at boot camp. I lifted up the covers and there, peering back at me, were two big brown eyes. I rolled to my back and tried to catch my breath. When I looked up, another set of brown eyes hung over the top of my bed, looking at me. It was Cedric, and he simply declared, “I’m hungry.”
After futile attempts to feed them oatmeal, biscuits, and eggs, I finally gave them each a Snickers bar and was done with it. I turned on cartoons and ate cold pizza, chewing through the tough crust like it represented every problem I had in life.
Today was Friday. Tomorrow I would have lunch with Edward. I couldn’t believe I was even thinking it, but I was. I was thinking of breaking up with him. The thought had never entered my mind once in the past two years. We never fought. I was never unhappy. He was never unhappy. Life was predictably good.
And then something happened, and I still couldn’t identify exactly what it was. But I could definitely blame flaming pancakes.
In all honesty, though, I couldn’t imagine saying the words. How could I sit there and explain to him that I needed more flaming pancakes in our relationship when he was agreeing to have lunch on a Saturday?
My thoughts were interrupted by Danny bellowing from the living room, “I’m bored!”
I had not one clue what to do. I loved children. The concept of children. I supported children being born, and I never stared at one throwing a fit at the supermarket. My parents never let me babysit when I was growing up, because Mother feared I’d gossip about family secrets.
I honestly didn’t know what to do with them. And I hadn’t been one for praying about trivial problems in my life. My theory was that if I had time to pray about trivial problems, I wasn’t doing enough to help God. Though that philosophy appealed to me, it somehow didn’t seem healthy. I hadn’t taken the time to find out for sure.
And I didn’t have time now, either, because there was a knock at my door. The kids jumped up, yelling, “Mommy!” and Danny opened the door before I could get there. The “mommy” chant stopped, and their jaws hung open. I didn’t do much better with my jaw.
There, standing in my doorway, was Cinco. Holding two huge sacks of toys.
“Hey guys,” he said, looking down at the kids. “Leah asked me to pick up a few things for you.” He walked in and set the sacks in the middle of the living room. The kids scrambled to their knees. I laughed out of sheer astonishment and gratitude.
“I can’t . . . I can’t even speak!” I said.
“It sounded like you were caught off guard last night. I thought these might come in handy.”
“You went to the toy store?”
“Nope. Grocery store. Those sacks are filled with all those toys they have on the cereal aisle. Don’t you remember begging your mother for those stupid two-dollar toys? She’d never let you have ’em, and yeah, they’re stupid toys, but we always want what we can’t have.”
I glanced over at the kids, who were holding up Slinkys, plastic baby dolls, cars, toy guns, and more.
“You have literally just saved my life. How can I ever repay you?”
“Coffee would be nice.”
“For you and me both,” I said. He followed me into the kitchen. I switched on the coffeepot and then turned to face him. I couldn’t stop smiling at him, and he couldn’t stop smiling at me.
This went on for the next hour.
Chapter 20
[She gasps.]
It was Saturday morning and I wanted to cry. Not just whimper. And a simple weeping would understate the problem. I wanted to cry that kind of cry that comes from deep in the throat and makes you sound like the girl from The Exorcist.
The Slinky had ended up tangled in Amelia’s hair. The car lost three out of its four wheels. The baby doll lost its head, which made Amelia freak out and the boys die with laughter. And all the other toys were now being used for things toys aren’t supposed to be used for.
Yesterday I’d agreed to another day. I didn’t know why. I was going absolutely bonkers as it was. But Elisabeth had sounded so desperate. In the midst of it all, Edward had called. “Let’s meet at Billy’s.”
“Billy’s? I’ve never heard of it before.”
“It’s at Twelfth and Darcy.”
I was trying to keep the kids hushed so I wouldn’t have to explain myself. There was no time for protest. Billy’s it was.
I managed to trick the kids into distraction by claiming they couldn’t touch a bowl of junk I had on the kitchen counter. Danny insisted he would be careful, and pretty soon all the kids were curious about the bowl. I took advantage of the situation and decided to give them a speech about trust. Before I knew it, they were on the floor digging through the bowl of odds and ends that I would have never thought could come in so handy. The junk gave me an hour of peace.
So I took the hour to write. J. R.’s words continued to torment me, and I decided once and for all I would write in a conflict scene. A big conflict scene. How corny was it to believe that my plays had some strange prophetic power. I’d been writing my own demise by believing in that nonsense. Did I really think I could write a play without conflict? Sure, it was a little daunting since the play was more personal than my other plays, but once and for all I decided it was time I got over this ridiculous omen and wrote a good old-fashioned conflict scene.
That precious hour passed and I had built up to the conflict. The kids were getting restless, but luckily it was almost time to go drop them off with Elisabeth and meet Edward.
Elisabeth had called and agreed to make the exchange at Sixteenth and Darcy, since it was about halfway between our residences. While trying to get the kids ready and make sure that Amelia didn’t have an “accident” (Danny had explained one to me in vivid detail), my mind continued to ricochet between thoughts of Edward and thoughts of Cinco. I tried to think as logically as I could through every implication. For instance, how exactly would I bring home to my s
enator father a man that had to be introduced by a Spanish numeral? Then again, how exactly could I go on for the rest of my life in such a predictable state? My mind bounced from one question to the next, and I zoned out long enough for the kids to “redo” my hair in a way that would’ve guaranteed me a makeover on any morning show.
When it was time to leave, I wiped their dirty mouths and hands, put on a little makeup, and then managed to get them to the subway station. The ride took fifteen minutes, and those kids took every second they had to cause some kind of strife. They fiddled and bickered and rubbed everyone the wrong way. I had people give me the evil eye, as if they were my own children and I’d done them a horrible disservice by being their mother.
Finally we got off the T and walked two blocks to Sixteenth and Darcy. I bought the kids each a large sucker and waited near the convenience store for Elisabeth, hoping I wouldn’t accidentally run into Edward. He wasn’t fond of Elisabeth, and I knew that if he found out I had kept her kids for two days because of her indiscretions, I wouldn’t hear the end of it.
As I leaned against the building, waiting, I watched their three tiny faces become stickier and stickier. Did they have any idea why they’d been passed off to Auntie Leah for two days? Did they understand their lives would never be the same? That Daddy was probably never going to come home and live with them again? It broke my heart, and I had to hold back the tears.
This made me think about Edward and his predictability. Was it that bad? Sure, life was destined to be one long and boring schedule, but at least I knew he would be there. Didn’t I?
Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling I got from Cinco, the buzz that caused me to stop thinking straight.
“Hey.”
I looked up, and Elisabeth was stepping on the curb. She hugged me, and when she stepped back, I couldn’t believe it. She looked like she’d aged ten years. I swore I could even see gray hairs. She glanced at the kids. “They okay?”
“Yeah.” I smiled. “They were a delight.”
“Good.”
“How are you? And Henry?”
She shook her head, tears blocking words. Finally she managed, “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s going to happen.” She stared at the ground. “How could I have done this? How could I have been so stupid?”
I took her hand. “It’s going to be okay.”
She wiped away her tears and then looked at me. “Thanks for doing this for me. You’re the best friend I could ever have.” She embraced me, then said, “I shouldn’t keep you waiting. You’re meeting Edward, right?”
I nodded, and before I knew it, I was confessing, “I think I might break up with him.”
“What?”
“I know, it sounds crazy. Maybe it is crazy! I don’t know.”
“I can’t even imagine that, Leah. You really might break up with him?”
“I’m not happy. I don’t think. Maybe I am happy and don’t know it.” I covered my face with my hands and took a breath. “I don’t even know what I’m going to say when I step into Billy’s.”
“Billy’s?”
“The restaurant.”
“I know the place. Are you sure you’re meeting there?”
“Yeah . . . why?”
“Oh . . . um, no reason.”
“What?”
She shrugged. “It just doesn’t seem like the kind of place Edward frequents.”
“What kind of place is it?”
She patted me on the shoulder. “I’ll let you be surprised. Now, let me get these kids out of your hair.”
“Do you want some help?”
“No. I parked just around the corner. You go and enjoy . . . Billy’s.”
The air became thicker and greasier the closer I got to Billy’s. The neighborhood indicated I wasn’t here for the fine dining. I was so bewildered I could hardly think about what I would say to Edward. He was going a little overboard on the spontaneity, wasn’t he? As I stared up at the big glowing sign that announced Billy’s as a “diner,” along with the smaller sign below it that announced they were having a double onion rings special, I couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe Edward had lost his mind. And come to think of it, I hadn’t ever seen Edward eat a hamburger. He wasn’t fond of eating things that didn’t require utensils.
I opened the wooden door, which creaked and led me into darkness for a few steps until I rounded the corner. At least there was someone there to help me to my seat. “I’m meeting someone,” I told the hostess as she grabbed a laminated menu from beneath her stand.
“Edward is waiting for you over here,” she said, motioning to her left. I looked and there Edward sat, waving at me. I walked over, and the hostess put the menu in front of me and asked me if I wanted a Coke. Edward, to my astonishment, was having a Coke. I had never seen him drink Coke.
“Sure,” I said. My hands were trembling underneath the table, but I tried to act as calm as I could. “Hi.”
“Hi.”
“This is . . . quite a place.”
He looked around. “Yeah. A different kind of atmosphere, right?”
I nodded. “How did you hear about it?”
“I asked around. Wasn’t sure what a good place for lunch would be.”
“Ah.”
He held up the menu and looked it over. “Hope you like hamburgers.”
“Actually, I do,” I said. “And onion rings.”
“Really?”
“It’s the Southerner in me.”
“I thought Southerners liked fried chicken and fried okra.”
“That too. Maybe we can save that for next weekend.”
He went back to reading his menu. I tried to look over mine, but I didn’t have an appetite. I had no idea how I would . . . how I could . . . broach the subject. After the waitress came and took our orders—hamburgers for both of us—I decided I had to at least get my feet wet.
“Edward,” I began, “I want you to know how much I appreciate your trying to be spontaneous.” And then I noticed Edward’s hands were shaking. They were folded on the table in front of him, but they were shaking like he was on a caffeine high. It sidetracked me, because I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why he was shaking so badly. Was it because he’d ordered a hamburger? Was this what spontaneity did to him?
I started to say something, but before any words could actually come out, Edward said, “Leah, I need to say something.”
I couldn’t stop looking at his hands. “What?”
He sighed, and now we were both looking at his hands. “I’m sorry, give me a second.” He wiped his mouth. What was happening?
“What is it, Edward?”
He finally met my gaze. “Look . . . I can’t keep dating you.”
Now my entire insides were shaking. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You . . . you can’t . . . keep . . .” My eyes blinked at an absurd rate. I took a breath. “Is this because I want you to be more spontaneous?” I asked, my voice rising. “This is about spontaneity?”
“Sort of,” he said with a shrug. I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen him so flippant as when he said that. He seemed distracted, like there was something more important than breaking my heart. But . . . was he breaking my heart? Wasn’t there, deep inside me, a little bit of relief? I tried to search at the same time I tried to decode the man in front of me.
He looked at me. “Leah, I brought you here because I didn’t want to do this at one of our usual places.”
I fell back into my chair, stunned. He didn’t want to do this at one of our usual places? Like have to spend a lot of money on dinner just to break up with me? I felt my eyebrows crashing down with force. Even with a lot of sleep, this was probably more than I could take, but after the two nights I’d had, this was close to unbearable. “This is unbelievable,” I breathed. “Why . . . why didn’t you want to do this at one of our usual places?” It was the only question I could think to ask. I couldn’t imagine there was even a reasonable answer.
“You wante
d me to be spontaneous,” he said.
I slapped my hand to my forehead. It was throbbing like I’d been hit with an ax handle. I didn’t know what to say. I wanted to cry. I wanted to laugh. Instead, my entire body went numb. But when I looked up at Edward, to my confusion, he was smiling.
And then I saw him reach into his pocket. He pulled out a tiny black box. It was like I was watching someone else’s life. He opened the black box and there, sitting in the middle of it, was the most beautiful diamond ring I’d ever seen. I gasped and threw my hands to cover my mouth.
“How’s that for spontaneous?” he asked. And then I watched as he stood up and took my hand in his. We were both shaking so badly it was hard to hold on. I felt tears rolling down my face as I looked up at him. “I can’t go on dating you, Leah. It’s time that we secure our future together. It’s the right time.” He smiled and said, “Will you join me in this new journey of our life by entering into wedlock with me?”
“I . . . I . . . ?” I stared at the ring. Was that Edward’s way of asking me to marry him? I assumed he wasn’t down on one knee because of the filthy floor beneath us. I glanced around. The entire diner had hushed. And for the first time in my life I felt like I might pass out.
I looked at Edward, who was patiently waiting. I wasn’t sure if a full minute had passed or only ten seconds. I’d lost all sense of reality. Edward squeezed my hand as a reminder that he’d just asked me a very important question, which prompted me to do the only thing I could.
“Yes,” I squeaked.
Edward nodded approvingly and slid the ring onto my finger. He pulled me to my feet. And he kissed me. Then he hugged me. Then he said, “Look out there.” He pointed through a window at the side of the restaurant to a horse-drawn carriage. “That’s for us. Come on!”
He pulled me through the restaurant and through the front door. “But . . . but what about . . .” I was pitching my thumb backward. What about the hamburgers? And why was I thinking of hamburgers at this moment?
He laughed and whispered, “That was all part of the ruse. We’re going by horse-drawn carriage to a real restaurant.”
My Life as a Doormat (in Three Acts) Page 19