Deciding Tomorrow

by Ericson, Renee

  I take a moment to remember, to remind myself that I was kissing Brent not too long ago. It happened just this morning. Less than an hour ago, his lips were on mine. Last night, I was in his arms. I was there, in his bed. Like a dream I’ve been denying for years, our closeness remained despite the time apart. There is still an us.

  I left that just now. I still can’t believe I did.

  Without him next to me, it’s hard to believe everything that occurred in our short period of time together. The blur of my trip suddenly feels surreal with no evidence, only the memories in my mind.

  My coffee is empty, and the gate agent has begun boarding passengers. I enter the aircraft, find my assigned seat, and shove my handbag into the designated space at my feet. As more people continue to board, I buckle my safety belt and take out my phone to call Brent as promised.

  He answers on the first ring. “Hi, beautiful.”

  I miss him already. “Hi.”

  “Are you on the plane?”

  “Yeah.” I blink rapidly, affected by the sound of his voice. “Just boarded. Are you home?”

  “I just walked in the door. Is the plane full?”

  “Yes, they’re gate-checking people’s luggage.”

  “Are you scheduled to take off on time?”

  “We are. It takes off in about five minutes.”

  All his questions are so strange, and I have the fantastical thought that he might be on the plane with me.

  The flight attendant comes over the loud speaker.

  “Hang on.” I wait for the woman to finish making a standard announcement. “Sorry. Looks like they’re going to be closing the door soon. I can’t talk much longer.”

  “Okay. I’m glad you got on all right, and thanks for calling. Call me when you arrive. I’ll be at practice, but leave a message. I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”

  “Sounds good,” I answer automatically. I want to say so many things, but I’m unable to go down that emotional path, not wanting to surrender to the longing already building.

  “Can you do me a favor before you hang up?” he asks.

  “Sure.” I pray his head will pop into view over the seats ahead.

  It doesn’t.

  “Are you in your seat?”

  “Yes, of course I am,” I say, confused. “We’ll be taxiing soon.”

  “Can you reach your handbag?”

  “Yeah,” I reply, skeptical. “Why?”

  “Look inside the small zipper pocket.”

  I snatch the black bag off the ground and set it on my lap. Holding the phone with my shoulder, I open the latch to the main compartment, and then with shaky fingers, I pull open the zipper to the small interior pocket. A folded piece of paper sits within the small space.

  “What is it?” I ask, extracting it with my fingers. I deposit my purse back onto the floor and place the sheet of paper on my lap.

  “Miss,” a flight attendant says from the aisle. “We’re closing the door. We need you to end your call.”

  “Okay.”

  She stands stagnant, watching and waiting.

  “Brent, I have to go. I’ll call you when I get there.”

  “Read the note,” he says. “I miss you already.”

  “I miss you, too,” I choke.

  “Soon. Remember, soon.”

  “I remember.” I sigh. “Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  I shut down the phone and then slip it into the front pocket of my hoodie. We taxi from the gate, and without any hesitation, I open the note Brent was so adamant about me reading. The paper is actually a flyer for a local charity fundraiser sponsored by his team. I flip it over, finding Brent’s handwriting scrawled all over the once blank page.

  Ruby,

  You’re sleeping, and I’m awake. I tried so hard to fall asleep with you in my arms, but I couldn’t stop looking at you. You’re so peaceful in your sleep. Did you know that? It’s the only time you seem to hold still. You’ve always been going, running, moving, and I guess that hasn’t changed with time. Now, you’re the one resting, and I can’t seem to hold still, so I’m writing you this instead.

  There’s so much on my mind that I never said. We only had so little time together, and I wasn’t sure what was right or wrong to say during your stay. There’s so much between us that everything can’t be covered on such a short visit.

  First, I want to let you know that I miss you already. I’ve missed you for years, and I didn’t even know it. Now, you’re within my reach, and I’m missing you again. When you asked me to beg for you to stay, you have no idea how hard it was for me not to. Even now, I’m having thoughts about turning off your alarm and mine, so you would miss your flight, and I could blame it on fate, but that would be a lie. We only get so many chances with fate. I know we have ours right now, and I’m not going to mess that up. I want you to be happy and to get everything you’ve ever wanted. You work too hard not to get that. You deserve to have it all.

  Second, this—us—is going to be hard with me here in L.A. and you in Chicago, but I truly believe we can make it work. We’ve been through so much already that this will seem like nothing in comparison. But unlike all the other times when things got tough, I’m vowing to you right now that I will not fail you. When I said that I’m going to fight for us, I meant it.

  Third, I love you.

  Fourth, I should have said those words to you while you were here, but I didn’t. I wanted to. However, they are always on the tip of my tongue and always resting in my heart.

  Fifth, I will make it up to you. I will make it all up to you.

  Sixth, it’s clear to me now that my heart has been waiting for you these past years. And so have I. I will wait for however long it takes.

  Seventh, please take care of my heart. Take care of you.

  Eighth, did I mention, I love you?

  Caritas patiens est.

  Always,

  Brent

  The airplane takes off and climbs higher into the early morning sky. With every passing second, I’m further away from L.A., leaving my heart.

  Closing my lids, I fold up the paper, holding it tight in my hand.

  It happened. We happened.

  Patience.

  Caritas patiens est. Brent is right. Love is patient.

  I need to be patient.

  TEN

  Three days.

  Three of the longest days ever.

  That’s how much time has gone by since I left L.A. Somehow, it still feels like a dream.

  Brent and I talk daily, which helps, like he said it would. Every conversation reboots the idea that we’re real, but without seeing, touching, or holding him, it’s not the same, not even close. There are times when I’m not sure if my mind is playing tricks on me. I find myself confirming its reality by wearing his shirt. It had to be real because I wouldn’t have his garment otherwise.

  Since coming home, school has assisted in keeping me occupied. My last exam for the day is complete, and I’m making a special trip downtown. On the subway, heading toward the Loop, I text Brent…just because.

  Me: School’s out. On the L now. Going to meet Cody and Shauna for coffee. What are you doing?

  I stare at my phone and wait, hoping for and willing a quick reply. He should be done with practice for the day, but he did mention going to work out this afternoon. Feeling like an idiot and embarrassingly desperate, I go to slip my phone into my coat pocket, but then it buzzes in my hand.

  Brent: Just finished lunch with Paul and Johan. About to head to the gym. Good day?

  I don’t want to tell him that I miss him terribly. It won’t help my longing or the distance.

  Me: Yes. Great day. Exams went well. Saw my academic adviser today and set up my classes for next quarter. Should be able to graduate this spring—on schedule.

  Brent: That’s great. You deserve it.

  Me: Thanks.

  Brent: You discuss grad school?

  Me: A little.

  Brent: A
nd?

  Me: He said that I needed to apply, like, yesterday if I want to go in the fall.

  Brent: I support whatever you want to do.

  Me: I know.

  Brent: We will make it work. I told you.

  The problem is that before Brent came back into my life, I wasn’t too sure what I wanted to do, and now that he’s back, it feels like all I want to do is spend every minute with him—immediately. However, making life decisions shouldn’t be based on a guy…but Brent is not just a guy. He feels like my life even though we just started over. I have to keep reminding myself not to make irrational or impulsive decisions. We still have a lot to figure out.

  Me: Still not sure about grad school. My stop is coming up. I’ll chat with you later.

  Brent: K. Call me.

  I place my phone in my pocket and exit the train onto the underground concrete platform. The bustle of people is minimal this time of day as I ascend the stairs to the sidewalk. The sky is overcast, typical for a November afternoon in Chicago, and the air sharply hits my face aboveground.

  It’s only two blocks to the coffee shop where I agreed to meet Cody, my cousin, and Shauna, his wife. They drove down for the day to look at a rebuild job for a well-paying client. They both work for her father’s custom auto shop in Milwaukee, and apparently, they have been expanding their business since Cody came on board. His creativity and craftsmanship have been getting noticed more and more, putting his and the garage’s services in high demand.

  In the moderately busy coffee shop, my cousin and Shauna sit at a corner table with an empty chair waiting for me. Cody’s ice-blue eyes are intent on Shauna’s blue-gray ones. Their hands are joined as they talk in deep conversation. He really does love her. I never thought Cody could be capable of caring for someone the way he so obviously does for her, and now that they’re having a baby in a couple of months, he seems to be even more attentive.

  As I approach them, Shauna’s head tilts in my direction, shifting her long fire-red hair across her shoulders. She rises from her seat, and her growing belly comes into view.

  It’s getting so big. She’s officially reached beach-ball status.

  “Sit down,” I tell her, pulling out the chair intended for me. “You’re going to make your feet swell.”

  She throws her arms around my neck, her sleeve of tattoos peeking out from under her shirt, as she adjusts her hips, so her protruding stomach doesn’t get in the way of our embrace.

  “Oh, be quiet,” Shauna says, giving me a squeeze. “It’s good to see you.”

  I like Shauna a lot. Anyone who can get Cody to be cordial is okay in my book.

  “It’s good to see you, too,” I reply, removing my hat and coat.

  “Hey, cuz,” Cody says, standing and giving me an obligatory hug. “How are things?”

  “Good.”

  We all take a seat, and I reach for the latte they ordered for me.

  “Really good. Thanks for the coffee.”

  “No problem,” Shauna replies, picking up her tea.

  We continue making idle and friendly conversation about nothing of importance—work, school, the weather, the holidays, and the terrible parking in the city. In the back of my mind, I play with the idea of telling them about Brent and me, my trip to see him, and all that has happened between us, but I decide that I’m not ready to discuss it with them yet. It’s all so new, and I’m still getting used to the idea myself. Not to mention, I don’t have a lot of answers to questions that might come up.

  After about twenty minutes, Shauna gives Cody a knowing look, indicating that it’s time to talk about something of importance.

  “We haven’t told anyone,” Cody begins, “so you’ll be the first to know. We’ve decided on a name for the baby.”

  “Oh, that’s exciting,” I say. “Must be nice to have that sorted out.”

  “It is,” Shauna says, a secret playing across her lips.

  “And we thought you should be the first to know because we are hoping you would be her godmother,” Cody says, full of sincerity.

  “Me?” I ask, confused. “You want me?”

  “Yes, we do.” Shauna giggles. “Besides…we’re naming her after you.”

  I try to wrap my head around what they’re saying. Godmother and namesake? This isn’t a usual coffee catch-up.

  “Wow.” I sputter a few illegible words, measuring the happy expressions on both their faces. “I would be honored. Of course I’ll be her godmother.”

  “Thank you,” Shauna says, placing her hand on mine. “We appreciate it.”

  “Wait—did you say you’re naming her Ruby, too?”

  “Well, not in a literal sense,” Cody interjects. “We’ve decided to call her Scarlet, but it’s in your honor.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” I snap my view to Shauna. “What about your family? Won’t they be upset?”

  “Honey, I come from a family filled with boys. They’ll get over it if they have an issue. Besides, her middle name will be Harriet, after my grandmother, and we wanted her to be named after family. She’s our daughter, and we know she’ll benefit from being named after someone with a little bit of fire in her.”

  “And you think that’s me?”

  “Ha!” Cody barks. “Don’t be so modest. You’re a huge pain in the ass.”

  Shauna reaches over and pinches Cody’s arm.

  “Ow!” he yips, rubbing the spot.

  “Well, in that case,” I say, trying really hard not to laugh, “I hope your daughter does take after me.”

  He rubs his hand through his dark hair. “Jesus, I’m in trouble.”

  “You sure are,” Shauna teases him.

  Shauna and I laugh together at Cody’s obvious nerves over having a daughter to care for.

  We chat a little longer but not too much because they need to get on the road before it gets too late. It’s a two-hour drive back to their house, if they miss the traffic, which is the plan. Standing together, we bundle up in our coats, hats, and scarves, and we exit into the crisp afternoon.

  “So, we’ll see you in a few weeks,” Shauna says, giving me a final hug good-bye. “For Thanksgiving?”

  “Yep, I’ll be there.” I pull out of her arms and slide right into Cody’s. “See you soon.”

  “Feel free to call us if you need anything,” he says as a reminder before stepping back to Shauna’s side.

  “I will.”

  “Are you doing okay?” he questions, like he always does. “You need any money or anything?”

  “No, I’m good.”

  “Okay.” He nods his head, taking Shauna’s hand in his. “Don’t be a stranger.”

  “It was good to see you, Ruby,” Shauna says.

  She waves as Cody turns them around, heading toward the parking garage.

  “You, too,” I call back, departing in the opposite direction.

  I cross the street toward the subway entrance to get back on the train and continue my journey home. Before descending below ground, I check my phone for messages. There’s one.

  Brent: Forgot to tell you…I miss you. That’s all.

  I tuck my phone back into my pocket and walk down the unusually empty steps.

  With Cody and Shauna living up north, my Uncle Jas living many miles away in Indiana, my father in prison, and my scheduled life of work and school, a sense of vacancy has always been lurking in my life. In some ways, Brent filled that last weekend, but he’s not here.

  The loneliness hits harder than usual.

  I am just going through the motions.

  I miss him, too.

  ELEVEN

  “What about this one?” Mara asks, displaying a coal peacoat in front of her chest. “You like it?”

  “For who? You?” I shift the wool jackets on the clothing rack. “Don’t you have a black one just like that?”

  She sighs, annoyed, and hangs it back up. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  We continue to go through the latest styles, coordinated by co
lor, on a Sunday afternoon in a shop along Michigan Avenue. This outing with Mara is just what I needed.

  Almost two weeks—that’s how long it’s been since my trip to see Brent. Once tomorrow comes, it will be two weeks exactly. But who’s counting? I sure am, but I’m trying not to.

  The first week was hard, very hard. Leaving Brent in L.A. and coming back to Chicago felt like an out-of-body experience. I was just going through the motions even though my heart was screaming to run in the other direction. He was there, and I was here. That whole week, I secretly hoped that Brent’s team would lose the round in the play-offs, and I felt awful about being so selfish. However, they didn’t lose. They won, and they’re heading to the next round, playing Portland tonight. Brent’s team is the favored to make it to the finals. Regardless, he’s tied up until next weekend since the second leg won’t be played until then.

  Patience is key, but I suck at it, and there’s nothing to do other than wait. I’ve been focusing on distractions, concentrating on school and work. I’ve been getting back to reality and not the dreamlike pining world of a schoolgirl.

  Earlier in the week, I contacted Mara about hanging out today. It had been such a long time since we saw each other, and it was time to catch up with her again. Mara is one of my closest friends. We were roommates our freshman year, the same year I became pregnant and had a miscarriage. She also got to witness much of the aftermath—my deep depression and Brent’s departure. We still hang out when we can, which doesn’t seem to be often with both our schedules being so busy. She works crazy hours for an environmental agency downtown, and my calendar is always full with work and school. I haven’t seen her in almost a month. We’re pretty pathetic friends.