Deciding Tomorrow

by Ericson, Renee

  “So, how’s Kenzie?” I ask, grabbing an overstuffed white down coat. “She still with that law firm?”

  “Yeah, but she’s thinking about going back to school. I don’t know though.”

  Kenzie and Mara have been a steady couple for a little over two years and have been living together for almost a year. I really like Kenzie and Mara together. Mara has always been a little crass—it’s part of her charm—but since getting together with Kenzie, she’s become mellow.

  “Back to school?” I put the puffy jacket back, deciding it’s not for me. “She doesn’t like her job?”

  “Paralegal work blows. I think she wants more.”

  “I can understand that.”

  Mara backs away from the rack. She makes a disgruntled face and then snaps her head in my direction, causing her bob of dark curls to swing. “I’m done here. Upstairs?”

  “Sure.”

  We walk to the center of the department store and take the escalator to the next floor filled with dresses and women’s suits. This isn’t Mara’s usual attire. She’s more of a black-pants-and-sweater kind of gal, so I’m surprised when she leads us to a rack filled with high-end dresses.

  “Looking for something in particular?” I ask.

  “Just a new dress,” she plays off, fiddling through the rows of material, “for Thanksgiving.”

  “Oh?”

  She drops her hands. “Kenzie’s whole family is coming for the holiday, and we’re hosting.”

  “The whole family, huh?”

  “Yes, her mom, dad, and her brother. It’s going to be a nightmare.”

  “It’s going to be fine.”

  “Can you come?” There’s obvious desperation in her voice.

  “To dinner?”

  “No, to the presidential debate. Yes, to the gobble fest. I need a partner in crime. I’ll feed you. You still like food, right?”

  “Food sounds tempting, but I can’t.”

  “What if I told you that Kenzie’s brother was super sexy and a junior partner with a brokerage firm? Would you be able to come then?”

  I select a red dress that complements her skin tone, flipping it in her direction. She crinkles her nose, so I put it back.

  “So, you’re trying to bribe me with food and a sexy man with a job?”

  “Yes,” she deadpans. “Is it working?”

  “Not really.” I think about Brent and contemplate if I should mention everything that has happened over the last few weeks, but I decide against it. That’s irrelevant since I really can’t join her. I have plans already. “I’m spending the holiday with Cody and his wife’s family up in Milwaukee.”

  “What about the sexy guy?” she asks cunningly, hoping it’s enough to change my mind.

  It might have worked a month ago but not now.

  “You could use one. It’s been a while since you’ve seen anyone. What was that last guy’s name?”

  “Connor?”

  “That’s it. What an asshole that prick was.” She tucks a stray curl behind her ear. “You really know how to pick them.”

  “Obviously not.” I regret the statement as soon as it crosses my lips.

  “Exactly. So, ditch Cody and come help me out while I hook you up with a real man.”

  “I can’t,” I tell her sternly.

  She sighs with exaggeration and then sticks her tongue out at me. “I really wish you could though.”

  “I would if I could. I hope you know that.”

  “Yeah, I do. It just blows.” She takes out a dark blue dress and holds it against her form.

  “I like that one. Looks good with your skin tone.”

  “Cool. I’ll try it on.” She throws it over her arm. “Maybe we can all go out on Friday, if you’re not working.”

  “Who?” I ask absently, eyeing a low-cut black dress with sheer trimming.

  “You, me, Kenzie…and Dylan.”

  “Dylan?”

  “Kenzie’s brother.”

  “I can’t,” I tell her quickly, shoving the hangers aside a little too forcefully.

  “Oh, are you working?”

  “No.” I bite my lip.

  I’m a little scared to tell her about Brent and me. They were decent friends before he left, but Mara was really upset with how everything went down.

  “Then, what is it?” she probes.

  “I’m…well, I’m seeing someone already.”

  “What? We had lunch, and we’ve been together all day. You haven’t said one word about seeing anyone. What the hell, Rubes?”

  I laugh. “I didn’t realize my love life was so worthy of conversation.” Yes, I’m trying to play it off.

  “Don’t pull the dumb card,” she chides. “You know I want to know.” She pulls a hat off a nearby stand, placing it over her head. “So, spill. Who is he? Give me all the deets.”

  Keeping my hands busy, I shift through the garments. I admit, “Somebody I’ve known for a while, but I haven’t seen him in a long time.”

  “Oh…cryptic.” She fingers the tendrils around her face, admiring the hat in a nearby mirror. “What’s his name?”

  “Brent,” I say casually, like it could be anyone. “You remember Brent, right?”

  Silence.

  Mara’s eyes shift back and forth as she absorbs my words—specifically, the name Brent. She sighs and tosses the hat back with the others. “Ha-ha, Rubes. I know you haven’t been overseas. So, who is it?”

  “Brent,” I offer again, amused that she doesn’t even believe me.

  “Stop with the bullshit.”

  “It’s not bullshit,” I say, insistent, grabbing a random dress to keep my hands busy.

  “Brent?” Her dark brown eyes widen. “Brent ‘The Sperminator’ Cromwell? Brent ‘I Love You, and We Will Be Together Forever, But Now I’m Running Away to Sweden’ Cromwell?”

  “Mara!”

  “Sorry, Rubes, but I’m a little in shock.” She snatches the black dress from my hand and hangs it back on the rack. “What the hell? You’re kidding, right?”

  “No, I’m not kidding.”

  “How? I thought he was doing the Europe thing, being Mr. Soccer.”

  “He was, but he’s not anymore.”

  “So, what? He’s back, and you’re all falling back into his arms just like that?”

  “No.” I wish it were like that. “Not just like that, and it’s complicated.”

  “I bet it fucking is.” She tucks a curl behind her ear, shifting her mouth back and forth. “Sorry, my mind is blown a bit here.”

  “Obviously.”

  “I don’t know what to say.” Leaning her elbow on the top of a round rack, Mara gives me her full, undivided attention. “Spill. Tell me everything—all the deets and no holding back.”

  Unbuttoning my jacket, I go through the details with Mara about all that’s occurred in the last month—Brent returning to the States and living in L.A., him coming into where I work, my trip out to California to see him about two weeks ago, how we talk every day, and how I’m okay with it for now. She nods her head while I tell it all, her curls bouncing, as she listens, not saying a word.

  “So, that’s it,” I conclude. “And we’re seeing each other.”

  “But he lives in California, and you’re here. The long-distance thing doesn’t make sense.” She raises her brows. “Wait—forget that. What am I talking about? I just don’t get it. Why are you even going down this road again with him?”

  I don’t know if she or anyone will ever understand this part. It’s hard to explain, but I try.

  “’Cause”—I blow a strand of hair away from my face—“I can’t stop thinking about him. Because ever since I saw him again, there’s no way I can even imagine anything without him.”

  “That sounds more like an obsession.”

  “Maybe it is.” I bite my lower lip. “But I’ve been living my life without him for years, and honestly, it hasn’t been that great. I don’t think you understand because you have no idea wh
at this feels like. What I feel with him, I just know.”

  “You know what?”

  “That I don’t want to be with anyone else,” I say as serious as possible, hoping she sees how much I mean the words. “That nothing feels right without him. You know that feeling you get in your gut when you just know something is right?”

  “Sounds more like you’re hungry.”

  “Yes, I’m hungry for Brent. Ha-ha. Joke’s over.”

  Mara pops her lips a few times and then pulls out another dress, a green one, from the rack before holding it up to me. “This color looks nice on you,” she says, avoiding the current topic.

  “Thanks.” I fold the garment over my arm. “I’ll try it on.”

  She picks up a dress and lays it over her form, inspecting herself in the mirror. “So, you’re okay though?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “I’m just worried about you.” Facing me, her expression full of concern. “I don’t want you to get hurt again, and it seems like a lot of work with him. The whole thing.”

  I shrug my shoulders. “Maybe it will be, but I don’t care. I just can’t…” I sigh as I’m at a loss for how to justify Brent and I to her. It’s impossible. There’s no way to explain that I don’t even see the issues. All I see is him.

  “I get it,” Mara says, turning her palms upward in a motion of surrender. “It’s what you want, and nothing will make you think otherwise.”

  “No, it really won’t.”

  She brushes my shoulder as she walks past me before stopping at the next rack over.

  “You know,” she says with the utmost sincerity, “if he fucks this up with you, I might just cut his balls off.”

  “Subtle, Mar,” I say in a snarky tone, “very subtle. I’m a big girl, and I’ll be fine. I don’t think you need to worry.”

  “I’ll sharpen my knives just in case.”

  TWELVE

  Three weeks, but who’s counting? Me.

  The longer we’re apart, the harder it is to remember what it feels like when we’re together. I keep thinking that it might be all in my head, that such a fantastical feeling couldn’t possibly be true. I hope that my tickling doubt is a lie.

  With my school schedule filled with assignments and exams, I haven’t been able to make another trip out to California. Brent has been busy, too. Almost every day has been crammed with practices in preparation for each upcoming match. I had no idea it was so intense.

  The sun is setting fast on this Sunday afternoon as I wait for Brent’s call, mindlessly biding my time by working on a paper. He has a game this evening, and it’s an important one, deciding whether or not his team will head to the Cup Finals. His team is favored to win, meaning it will likely be another week or two before I can see him again.

  Time ticks away while I anticipate hearing his voice again.

  Every.

  Minute.

  One.

  After.

  The.

  Next.

  He should be calling soon, very soon. I need to stop looking at the time.

  The phone finally rings, displaying an image of Brent. It’s his roster picture from the club website. When we were together last, it didn’t occur to me to take a picture, so I grabbed this one. I let it ring twice, trying to convince myself that I’m not desperate to hear his voice.

  “Hi,” I breathe.

  “Hey, gorgeous.”

  Every time he speaks to me, the tone of his voice splices straight to my veins.

  “Are you at the stadium?” I ask.

  “Yeah, we are breaking now for a little bit. How are you doing?”

  I close my schoolbook. “Not bad. Just working on a paper. How about you?”

  “Fine.” He laughs. “Are we done with the small talk?”

  “Sure. I can give it up anytime.”

  “Good, because I wanted to ask you something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Thursday’s Thanksgiving, and with the way we’re playing, I don’t think I’ll be able to go anywhere. I know you mentioned that you were planning on spending the holiday with Cody, but would you consider coming out to be with me?”

  I don’t know what to say. I’m overcome by the proposition. There are so many things to consider—the timing, Cody, cost, work, school.

  “If you’re worried about the flight, don’t,” he adds. “I’ll buy your ticket.”

  “It’s a lot of money,” I remark in protest.

  “I don’t care. I just want to see you again.”

  There’s nothing more I’d rather do than see him soon, but explaining to Cody my sudden change of plans would be interesting. Fuck it. He’ll find out eventually anyhow, and it’s not like Brent and I need to be a secret. It’s complicated, but it’s nothing to be ashamed of.

  “Yeah, I can make that happen,” I answer.

  “Really? I was going to head up to see my mom for the day, but she’s so busy with work, and I have a feeling she’ll be occupied with a client project.”

  “She’s going to work on Thanksgiving?”

  “Yeah.” There’s a tinge of disgust in his voice. “I guess the client requires it sometimes.”

  “Then, I’ll be there for sure.”

  He doesn’t say anything.

  “Brent?”

  “Ruby?”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yeah, I was just thinking it’ll be so good to see you again.” He sighs.

  I lock down my longing. Three weeks is a long time when noticing every hour without someone. It’s gone by so slowly.

  “I really miss you,” I tell him.

  “Hang in there. We’ll be together again very soon.”

  “It seems that way.”

  “It sure does. I’ve gotta get going and join the guys. I’ll call you tomorrow, and we’ll make arrangements for your flight.”

  “Sounds good. Good luck tonight.”

  “Thanks. Are you going to watch?”

  “Maybe just the updates online. I’m writing a paper tonight, too.”

  “Well, get it done,” he encourages. “Don’t worry about the game.”

  “That’s right. You worry about the game.”

  “Exactly.” I can visualize him smiling right now. “Okay, I really need to go now. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Don’t forget,” he says, like he does every time when we’re about to hang up.

  “I never could. Soon. I remember, soon.”

  “Very soon.” He sighs. “Bye.”

  “Bye.”

  Ending the call, I grin like a fool. Talking every day really does help, and to think we will be seeing each other in less than a week is just…wonderful. Cody will be pissed, but I will deal with him when I get back. I’ll call him tomorrow to let him know what’s going on and then give him a few days to cool off and get used to it. He has his own life to focus on, and I’m focusing on mine.

  Over the next few hours, I finish my paper, taking longer than I thought, but that’s due to the fact that I keep checking the score for Brent’s game. It’s almost eleven at night. His team is ahead by two points, and the end of the game is near. It’s highly likely that they will be heading to the finals as predicted.

  I have to get up early in the morning to take the train to class, so I change into the shirt I swiped from Brent’s closet. It’s my nightly reminder of him. I shut off my lights and tuck into bed. Through heavy lids, I check the score of the game on my phone. My eyes eventually close and don’t open again as I fall fast asleep.

  ~~~*~~~

  With weighted arms, I push the paddle through the murky water in the early morning light. The fog is thick above the dull lake, and like a sea of moist dust, it’s obstructing my view.

  “Just keep going,” a voice says from behind me.

  I look over my shoulder, finding no one there. The blanket of mist is too dense.

  “It will be fine,” he says again.

>   This time, I recognize the voice, and a calm comes over me.

  “Okay,” I reply to Brent.

  Turning back around, I plunge the paddle back into the water, pushing forward. I trust him, knowing he would never lead me into danger.

  The visibility is minimal for some time, but as the sun rises farther into the sky, the fog lifts, and a small island comes into view. Knowing where we are, I whip my head around, and I’m finally able to see Brent. It’s not the Brent from our teenage years who took me to this very place years before, but it’s the one who made love to me before saying good-bye not too long ago in California. It’s the Brent who has grown into the man beyond our days from this island and the place where we began as a couple.

  “We’re almost there,” he says, a content smile plastered across his face.

  “I know,” I excitedly say. Facing forward, I urge us to shore with his assistance.

  The sun is high in the sky, and the mist has completely dissipated. We exit the small sea craft and haul it up the small beach of our island. It’s just as I remember—vivid and lush with flowers and trees spanning the private space made just for us.

  Like déjà vu, Brent grasps my hand and pulls me into the wooded area that’s full of our secrets. They’ve been waiting and resting for our return.

  Here, a tree whispers inside my head. He kissed you here.

  And here, another says.

  Here, too, more of the trees utter as we weave toward the beach.

  As we pass every one of the tall oaks, my heart swells, feeling the passion from each one of those kisses, those caresses, and those tender touches. The memories of our young love beat against my soul.

  At the wooded edge and through a small meadow of spring flowers, Brent leads me to the narrow beach overlooking the glassy lake framed by trees on either side. A blanket appears where the water begins, and I find myself seated between Brent’s legs, his arms resting over my shoulders.