Riven

by Lissa Del

  “You should be,” she replies, deadly serious. “Are we still going to look at the warehouse this morning?”

  “Yeah. You don’t have to come with me, you know. You should work on your own thesis.”

  “I don’t feel like it.”

  “You’re running out of time, Jess.”

  “I’m hoping watching you work your magic will inspire me.”

  “Here’s hoping.” I yank my hair out of my sweater and tie it in a ponytail on top of my head. “Ready!” I say, flashing her a broad grin.

  I spend most of the morning on site, measuring and making notes on my final design. My project proposes tearing down most of the warehouse, but I would like to keep some of the framework and incorporate it into my design. It makes the project more difficult, but I’m hoping it will earn me extra credit for effort.

  “Done!” I announce with a flourish. Jess looks up from her phone for the first time in hours.

  “I’m glad I could inspire you this morning,” I add teasingly. “Who are you talking to anyway?”

  “No one.”

  “Jess?” For an awful moment I wonder if she’s still in contact with Jackson, despite her assurances that he’s a pig-dog who should be drawn and quartered.

  “No one!” she shows me her screen as proof.

  “Seriously? Candy Crush?” I shake my head and then stick out my finger and finish the level.

  “How do you do that?” Jess laments. “I’ve been stuck on that level for weeks!”

  “It’s a gift.”

  I’m at my desktop in the library when Leo tracks me down in the afternoon. The mere sight of him brightens my mood and he looks just as excited to see me. The few days we spent apart weren’t easy for either of us. Leo has a pile of books in his hands and he dumps them unceremoniously on the table beside me before pulling me up from my seat and giving me a lingering kiss. The library is empty for a change and he doesn’t bother keeping his voice down.

  “I missed that.”

  “So did I,” I say, feeling the familiar lazy swirl in the pit of my stomach that only he can incite. “What’s with all the books?”

  “I don’t know how you managed to get through first year,” he grumbles.

  “It can’t be harder than med school.”

  “Ah, but in my first year I studied the human anatomy.” He leans forward and trails a finger over my shoulder and into the hollow of my throat. “It was far more interesting.”

  My breath quickens but he doesn’t go any further. I look up at him to find he’s no longer focused on me. I follow the line of his sight and, to my dismay, I spot Noah standing at the end of the long table. He turns away almost immediately, but not before I catch the furious look on his face.

  Leo gives a small chuckle and takes a seat at the table.

  “I had better get started,” he says and opens his books. “Are you still okay with going to Ellen’s for dinner?” He had texted me this morning saying his sister wanted to meet me properly and of course I had said yes. She had seemed nice enough when I met her yesterday and I wanted the chance to get to know her.

  “Of course.”

  We work side by side for most of the afternoon. Every now and again I cast a discreet look at him. Despite his protests, he is utterly focused, his pen scrawling across the page. Every few minutes he consults another book, his golden hair flopping forward. From this angle his scar is more pronounced, the ridge in his hairline clearly visible.

  “I should’ve known you were a doctor,” I say, leaning forward and tapping his notebook. “You have awful handwriting.”

  “They teach us that in second year,” he grins. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m done for the day, I think.” I stretch my neck and rotate my shoulders, trying to ease the tension that has settled in after so many hours hunched over the keyboard. “You?”

  “Almost. Give me twenty minutes?” he slides his car-keys across the table.

  I log off and collect my bags, dropping a kiss on the top of his head as I pass.

  I dump my stuff on the back seat of the SUV and then lean up against it. It’s almost dark, but even so a few stars twinkle overhead, braving the twilight.

  “I see you and the first year are still getting along famously.” The sound of Noah’s voice ruins my moment of contentment. He is standing a few feet away, heading away from the main campus building. “Nice car, by the way.” He sneers at the Porsche with envious disgust.

  “Hey Noah. You on your way home?” My attempt at civility.

  “Actually, no,” he hesitates and then admits, almost sheepishly, “I have a date.”

  “How nice!”

  “No need to sound so relieved,” he says, but there is a pleasant teasing in his words.

  “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m happy for you. I’m glad you’re moving on.”

  “I am,” he nods as though the thought has only now occurred to him. “I’ll see you around, Sarah.”

  “See you.” I watch him walk away, a weight lifting from my chest. Things are definitely looking up.

  CHAPTER 27

  “Are you sure this is okay?” I ask Leo as we head uptown. We didn’t have time to go home and change and my jeans and sneakers combination is hardly smart. At least I have a pretty floral cardigan to pull over my vest.

  “It’s fine,” Leo doesn’t even look at me to see what I’m wearing. “Ellen’s very relaxed.”

  “What does she do again?” I know that one of his sisters is a physiotherapist, the other a teacher.

  “Physio.”

  “Ah. Trisha’s the teacher?”

  “Look at you, paying attention.”

  “I’m a quick study, Mr Russell.”

  “That you are, Ms Holt.”

  Ellen’s apartment block isn’t quite as upmarket as Leo’s but it’s close enough. There’s no doorman, at least, but as we enter the elevator and Leo presses the button for the top floor, I groan. Of course, she stays in the penthouse.

  “Is anyone in your family middle-income?”

  “Trisha’s a teacher,” he points out, and then, with a wicked grin, “but she married an attorney.”

  “Of course she did.”

  “Can I help it that success runs in my genes?” he teases.

  “Easy there, Steve Jobs – you haven’t even passed your first year exams yet.”

  Leo laughs and I try to remember everything he’s told me about Ellen. She’s the eldest of the siblings, a couple of years older than Leo. She’s not married, but she has a long-term partner named Bruce who has been trying to coerce her down the aisle for years. They don’t have any children.

  The elevator opens up onto a tiny landing with only one door. Leo raps hard on the polished wood. I barely have time to smooth my hair when the door is yanked open.

  “If you salt that rice one more time I’m going to cut off your balls and feed them to you!” Ellen is yelling over her shoulder. Without missing a beat she turns to face us wearing the same crooked grin as her brother. “Welcome!” she kisses Leo’s cheek and then gives me a polite smile, “Come in.” She sweeps us inside. The apartment is high-ceilinged and beautifully decorated, but it’s inviting and reassuringly untidy. Jackets draped over chairs, shoes discarded on the floor and unfinished cups of coffee create a colourful clutter that makes me feel instantly at home. Ellen is holding a glass half-filled with wine and, without asking, she leads us to the kitchen and pours me a glass of my own.

  A man who I presume must be Bruce is standing at the stove stirring the contents of a bubbling pot. He is of average height with a slight pot-belly and his hair is shaved in a manner that suggests he is hiding a bald spot. His sleepy yellow eyes, however, twinkle with humour and lust for life. As we enter, he discreetly pushes a salt cellar behind the coffee machine.

  “Leo!” he roars, seizing Leo in a bear hug and clapping his back enthusiastically. “Thank God you’re here. Your sister’s boring me to tears.”

  “I saw tha
t,” Ellen reproves, lifting one finger off her glass and wagging it in the direction of the salt cellar.

  “Leave him alone,” Leo says, “we both know you can’t cook.” He winks at her and then draws me forward proudly. “Bruce, this is Sarah.”

  “Welcome, Sarah!” Bruce hauls me into the same bear-hug he gave Leo but thankfully minus the back-clapping. It probably would have brought me to my knees.

  “Thank you both so much for inviting us.”

  “Don’t thank us yet. So far all we have is rice and lumpy gravy.”

  “And the rice is probably over-salted,” Ellen adds.

  “Ellen says you went to Monarch’s for lunch yesterday?” Bruce asks Leo and then they’re off, typical men discussing food, sports and politics.

  “Let’s leave these two to the cooking,” Ellen whispers and I follow her into the living-room. To my surprise she stops only long enough to snatch up a packet of cigarettes and then continues out onto the balcony. “Sorry, it’s my guilty pleasure,” she says, promptly lighting up. “Would you like one?” she offers me the packet and I shake my head. “I keep threatening to quit but Bruce says he couldn’t live with me if I did. I tried once before – it lasted a week and he told me if I ever do it again he’s packing his bags.”

  I smile. “How long have you and Bruce been together?”

  “Forever. We met in high school. I was actually dating his brother at the time.”

  “And how did his brother take it when you and Bruce hooked up?”

  Ellen pauses to flick her cigarette ash into the silver ashtray on the table.

  “I think he was relieved, to be honest. He was dreadfully unhappy, but a bit of a wimp. I don’t think he had the balls to break it off. Bruce did him a favour.”

  By the time we head back inside to refill our glasses, Bruce has managed to fry up some pork chops and boil a pot full of peas. We take our seats at the dining-room table, Leo and I sitting opposite Ellen and Bruce sitting at the head.

  “It’s just for show,” he tells me as he takes his place. “Ellen lets me look important when we have guests over.”

  “Enjoy it while it lasts,” Ellen quips, loading her plate.

  Watching them together it strikes me that I’ve never seen a couple so attuned to one another. I can’t help but think that if Tom and Jess ever got married, this is how their relationship would be. Ellen and Bruce’s constant sniping is delightful, a playful game for two people who are obviously very much in love. You can tell by the way they look at each other, the way they subconsciously lean toward one another, that they are as close as any two people could be. And yet, despite the relaxed atmosphere, I get the sense that there is something I am missing. As comfortable as Ellen and Bruce are with one another, and as hospitable as the couple may be, I get the sense that they are watching me, assessing me. It’s not something I can put my finger on, but I can’t shake the feeling that, beneath their friendly manner, Ellen and Bruce are not entirely comfortable with me being here.

  By my third glass of wine, however, I’ve convinced myself that I’m imagining things. Ellen is now smoking openly at the table and Leo and Bruce are trying to convince her that she should stop being stubborn and just marry Bruce already.

  “I don’t believe in marriage,” is her simple answer.

  “How can you not believe in marriage?” Bruce laments. “It’s the ultimate commitment.”

  “I’m utterly committed to you,” Ellen persists, “I don’t need a piece of paper to prove it. Besides, I don’t want to change my name.”

  “What do you think, Sarah?” Bruce appeals to me.

  “I think there’s nothing wrong with a woman keeping her name,” I reply, deliberately misunderstanding the question.

  “Would you keep yours?” Leo asks lazily. He’s had more than a few beers so I guess we’ll be calling a cab to get us home.

  “Um…” I hesitate, not sure how the conversation turned on me so quickly, “I haven’t really thought about it.”

  “I’m old school,” Leo muses, his blue eyes slightly unfocused. “If we got married I’d want you to take my name.” Ellen and Bruce have fallen silent and I give a nervous laugh while Leo taps the neck of his beer thoughtfully. “Would you take my name?” he asks again. I can’t tell if he’s teasing or not.

  “I’d have to give it some thought,” I say, trying to brazen it out.

  “You’re not marrying her.” Ellen’s voice has lost all trace of frivolity.

  Leo’s eyes slice to hers. “I didn’t say I was.”

  “You may as well have…”

  “Ellen,” Bruce issues a low warning.

  “No,” Ellen rounds on Bruce. “This is ridiculous!”

  My head spins in confusion, trying to figure out how everything went bad so quickly. Another part of me is spitting mad and I feel a rush of anger toward Ellen, who has been so lovely to my face, but obviously thinks I’m not worthy of her brother. I get to my feet stacking the empty plates. The clatter of porcelain on porcelain is too loud and I force myself to calm down.

  “I’ll just take these through to the kitchen,” I mumble, my eyes pricking with tears of embarrassment.

  “No, Sarah, you relax!” Bruce says, pushing his chair back. “I’ll take those through.”

  “Its fine, I’ve got it,” I insist. I’m already walking toward the kitchen. I hear the clink of glasses behind me and a moment later Bruce joins me at the sink. I switch on the tap, running water over the plates for want of something to do.

  “Do you wash by hand or are you loading the dishwasher?” I ask, trying to keep my voice natural.

  He opens the door of the dishwasher under the counter and starts taking the plates from me one by one.

  “She didn’t mean it like that, you know,” he murmurs. “Sarah,” his voice is kind and gentle as he straightens up and his fingers close over mine, switching the water off. I set aside the plate I’m holding and lift my eyes to his. “She didn’t,” he repeats. “Ellen likes you. You may not think so but…” he trails off, looking pained, as though the right words to express himself are just beyond his reach.

  “It was a stupid conversation,” I say. “I think Leo’s had a bit too much to drink. Maybe I should just get him home.”

  Bruce looks at me for a long moment and then he nods and steps aside, allowing me to pass.

  I leave him behind in the kitchen and head back to the dining-room. Leo’s in no state to drive and I stop in the hall to fetch my phone from my purse. I can hear the water running again in the kitchen – no doubt Bruce gets lumped with the washing-up as well as the cooking, I think spitefully. I dial the cab company, walking unenthusiastically back to the dining-room when I hear Leo’s voice. I freeze, hidden behind a single brick wall, my hand dropping to my side.

  “It’s none of your business,” Leo snaps.

  “Of course it’s my business,” Ellen replies, “it’s all of our business!”

  “It’s my life, my decision.”

  “Yes and I respect that, in case you’ve forgotten. I’ve supported you even when everyone else refused to. How long has it been since you spoke to Trisha, hmm? How many months since you cut her off? I’ve respected your wishes, Leo, but you can’t possibly think that this relationship…”

  “I love her, Ellen!” It is a desperate proclamation, one that both fills my heart with joy and terrifies me at the same time.

  “I have no doubt of that.” Ellen’s voice is laden with disappointment.

  “Then why are you being like this?”

  “You know why, Leo.”

  “Well, you’re just going to have to accept it. I love Sarah. And she loves me,” he adds proudly, as though that fact in itself is an accomplishment.

  “Does she?” Ellen asks wearily. “Does she really? Does she even know the truth?”

  I wait for his confirmation, secretly hoping he’ll put her in her place - that he’ll tell her I know all about his past – about him being a doctor and his decisio
n to change. Let her stew over that. Instead, Leo repeats himself.

  “I love her.”

  A long moment and then I hear Ellen’s small sigh. “The worst part is that I believe you. She’s a wonderful girl, brother, but she has no idea what she’s getting herself into. Either you tell her, Leo, or I will.”

  I wait in the hall while Leo says his goodbyes. Ellen and Bruce try to act normal, as though nothing has happened, but I can’t help stiffening as they hug me goodbye. Ellen’s eyes are shrewd and she gives me an almost sympathetic look but she doesn’t apologise for her outburst. Stuck up cow, I think.

  “I hope we see you again soon, Sarah,” Bruce says as I pull away from him. Over my dead body, I think to myself, but I manage to nod in response.

  I get Leo home and into bed, my heart heavy. I almost wish I’d never asked to meet his sister, because I’m pretty sure that nothing I could come up with on my own would be as awful as what happened in real life. Almost asleep, Leo pulls me up against him and I allow myself to be comforted by the warmth of his arms and the smell of him, the familiar smell of his aftershave and the faint apple of my shampoo. I wonder if he had been sober whether he would have called Ellen out on her threat to tell me the truth when he’d already done so. It hurts me that she would talk about me like that, but even worse is the fact that he tolerated it. My mind is a tumultuous sea of doubt and I stay up long after Leo’s soft snores rend the air.

  CHAPTER 28

  We drive down to Serenity on the last weekend in March. The spring quarter starts on Monday and, with the advanced placement selection only weeks away, my anxiety levels are through the roof. I worked through the break, as promised, so that I can enjoy our anniversary weekend, guilt-free, and as the warm breeze lifts my hair through the open passenger window, I feel myself relaxing for the first time in weeks.

  “I can’t believe we’ve been dating for six months,” I muse, watching the City give way to budding green.

  “Time flies when you’re having fun.” Leo squeezes my leg and I turn to peek at him, my head resting on my arm. I hadn’t mentioned the conversation I’d overheard at Ellen’s and, as much as it pains me, I’ve resigned myself to the fact that perhaps she and I just weren’t destined to get along.