Nerd Girl

by Lee, Sue

  After dinner, I texted Anna to let her know I made it to London safely. Dexter had set up their spare bedroom for me in their newly-remodeled home. The rooms were small, but still decent-sized for London standards. I hadn’t slept much in the last forty-eight hours and due to the combination of jetlag, a full stomach, and pure emotional and physical exhaustion, I fell asleep almost immediately.

  Dexter and Jamie were true to their word—they kept me busy. It was almost ridiculous how focused they were on their mission. They were dead set on making sure I had no downtime. Someone was with me all the time, so I had no time to wallow. If Dexter had other obligations, then Jamie took over and vice versa. It was like I had a set of personal breakup bodyguards—saving me from my misery one tourist attraction at a time!

  Over the next several days, we walked all over the city. I was pretty sure this was why they were in such great shape; they walked everywhere. We went on the famous London Eye situated on the bank of the River Thames. We ate lunch at a vegetarian restaurant in Covent Garden, one of my favorite neighborhoods in the city. We went to the National Gallery Museum, where I got lost in the multitudes of art history. Dexter and Jamie even took me to a drag queen fashion show, followed by nightclub hopping at gay bars in Soho. I loved going out with them to the bars. Gay men knew how to dance and they had so much fun doing it. And I never had to wait in line for the bathroom.

  On Wednesday afternoon, a couple of days before I was scheduled to leave, I had the day to myself. Dexter had to work and Jamie had an appointment with a local magazine editor. Jamie occasionally freelanced and wrote articles for a men’s magazine. I planned to take a walk at Green Park and meet Dexter at the Ritz Carlton for lunch, which was located across the street from his office.

  Since I arrived in London, Dexter and Jamie had kept me so busy and preoccupied, that I had little downtime to think about Ryan and to start feeling sorry for myself. He was always in the back of my mind, though. Keeping me busy helped to numb the pain, but I was sorely reminded how temporary it was anytime I was alone. My whole heart, body, and soul ached for him. I had no magic solution that would make me feel better this time. Even escaping to the other side of the world wasn’t helping me much. Sitting on a bench alone in the park, I could no longer keep the pain in my heart at bay. My emotional dam broke and I finally let my tears fall.

  I didn’t know how long I had been sitting there when I heard my phone signal a text. It was Dexter.

  Dexter: I’m in the Ritz lobby. Where r u?

  Me: Sorry – on my way. I’m sitting on a bench in Green Park - I can see the hotel from here

  Dexter: Oh – I can see you from here :(

  Dexter: Don’t move - I’ll walk over

  I looked up and saw Dexter waving to me in the distance. He had just stepped out of the hotel lobby onto the sidewalk in front of the park entrance. As I watched him saunter over to me, I admired his casual, metrosexual look. Dexter always looked so fashionably hip and put together. Today he was wearing a contemporary gray suit with a white pinstriped shirt, black belt and matching black leather shoes. He had a messenger bag slung diagonally over his shoulder and torso. I felt underdressed in my jeans, gray hoodie jacket, and white t-shirt.

  I used the sleeve of my jacket to wipe away my remaining tears and sat back down on the bench, waiting for him to reach me.

  “Uh oh,” he said in a gentle, empathetic voice. “Rough morning?”

  I gave him a sad, pathetic smile. “You could say that.”

  Dexter sat down on the bench next to me, crossing his legs and wrapping one arm around me. “You know, the first week after a breakup is always the worst, don’t you think?”

  I nodded in agreement but didn’t offer up a reply.

  “The good news is that the week’s almost over. And if you make it through week one, then after that it’s just a matter of putting one foot in front of the other and finding a way to move forward to week three. You know as much as I do that each week the pain gets a little duller.”

  “In theory, I agree with you. Remember, I’m the queen of moving forward and getting over being dumped,” I said wryly. Trying to hold back the tears that still wanted to brim over, I felt my face contort. “It feels different this time.”

  “Why is that, sweet girl?” he asked gently.

  “Well, I think Ryan still loves me.” I inhaled a deep breath as I came to this realization. “I guess … In the past, I knew when a relationship had run its course. I’m too rational, so I usually let my mind take over my heart. When it was over, it was over; I had no problem accepting it.”

  Dexter met my gaze. His dark brown eyes were filled with so much compassion that they encouraged me to continue.

  “With Ryan, I really thought I was done. I thought this was it. He was the one I wanted to come home to everyday. I thought I finally found him, Dexter. It’s one thing to let someone go because you face the reality that the relationship has run its course. It’s a whole different thing, which is what makes this so hard to swallow, when you know that person is still in love with you, too.” I couldn’t help my bottom lip from quivering and a big teardrop fell from one of my eyes.

  “I’m so sorry, sweetie,” he said softly, reaching for my hand. “You know, I’m curious. What if Catherine got better a year from now and Ryan wants you back? Would you go back to him?”

  “No,” I said quickly. “I can’t really articulate exactly why; it just feels really wrong to do that.” I thought about it more, trying to understand my own feelings. “I don’t know, maybe I’m too proud. I guess it makes me feel like I’m an inconvenience, rather than someone who deserves to be loved regardless of the circumstances. You can’t choose when to love or stop loving someone.”

  My lips pressed into a bitter line. “You know, I’m pissed that he made this decision without me,” I continued. “I don’t know. Maybe he didn’t really have a choice. I’m pissed that I can’t even blame him, either.” I stood up and kicked a pebble away with my foot.

  Dexter, being the great friend that he was, sat there listening quietly, nodding and letting me vent.

  “You know, I used to wonder if that person was ever out there—’the one.’” I rolled my eyes at the notion and motioned a double quote with my fingers. “I used to wonder if someone like that really existed for me. I always thought how much it sucked that I hadn’t found him yet. Well, it’s worse knowing that he does exist, but due to unanticipated cosmic shitty circumstances, I can’t have him.”

  I was done venting. I sat back down and exhaled loudly. I leaned into him, laying my head on his shoulder.

  “Julia, I believe in karma, my dear. You are an amazing, beautiful, good person. People like you won’t go through life without someone who deserves your love. There’s a lucky bastard out there and he has no idea yet. I can tell you that he definitely would be happier knowing that you exist.”

  I could sense he was smiling, even though I wasn’t looking at him. I didn’t believe him, of course, but I knew he was just trying to make me feel better. “Well, the universe sure owes me,” I said, feeling entitled.

  Dexter stood up. “Are you hungry? Ready to go spend a hundred pounds on lunch?”

  “Only if you’re paying.” I elbowed him teasingly into his ribs.

  As we walked towards the edge of the park, Dexter changed the subject. “So what are you going to do about your job?”

  I shrugged, drying the remainder of my tears from my face. “I haven’t thought about it much this week. I’ve been a little preoccupied, in more ways than one.” I looked at him accusingly.

  He chuckled. “Walking is good for both your body and soul. Besides, you probably lost a pound or two, huh?”

  “There is this thing called the Tube, you know.” We had taken the Tube a handful of times, but if our destination was within a few miles walking distance, Jamie and Dexter always opted to hoof it.

  “Julia, I think you should quit MS,” he said, ignoring my comment on our transportati
on options. “Start with one contract and then start your own consulting company like you want to do. I think you would totally rock at it. What have you got to lose?”

  “Thousands of dollars in stock awards,” I said without hesitation.

  “Well, there is that. But seriously, why not?”

  “You really think so?” For some reason, only now did I really take the idea of leaving MS seriously. “Maybe I will,” I contemplated as we linked elbows and walked into the Ritz.

  I texted Anna when I landed at SeaTac, but I was still excited when I walked out onto the curb and saw her waiting for me. I noticed her right away, waving at me from further up the street. She popped open the trunk of her silver Saab and came around the back of the car to hug me.

  “How was the flight?” she asked cheerfully.

  “Relatively painless. First class has its benefits,” I replied appreciatively.

  Anna arched an eyebrow. She still thought I was crazy for paying $2400 on a spur of the moment ticket. I ignored her disapproval and proceeded to stuff my luggage into the trunk of her car.

  “How were Dexter and Jamie?” she asked when we were on the freeway.

  “They’re great,” I said. I looked out the window and furrowed my brow. Coming back to Seattle actually felt daunting. I could no longer avoid what I knew would be an uphill battle towards forgetting Ryan. My week in London was merely a temporary distraction. From the moment I stepped my foot back into Washington state, I realized I was only postponing and numbing the inevitable pain that came from the gaping hole in my chest.

  “That’s all you’re going to say?” Anna asked me curiously. “You just spent $2400 on a trip to London. Please tell me it was worth it.”

  I instantly felt guilty for not being more engaged in the conversation. “Sorry,” I said regretfully. “I was just thinking of something else.” I shook my head, telling myself to snap out of it and focus on the conversation. I revised my previous answer. “They were really great. They did their best to prevent me from wallowing in self-pity. They made sure to keep me busy, even when I didn’t want to be. Gay men really know how to have fun and do it in style,” I said, trying to sound a tad more cheerful.

  Anna actually laughed. It looked like I’d been forgiven. “So, was this diversion successful?” she asked, arching her eyebrow.

  I heard some reservation in her voice. She knew my habit of escapism whenever my spirit needed healing. Unfortunately, I’d made it such a habit, that it’s become quite predictable to everyone.

  I looked back out the window and sighed loudly. “I don’t think any diversion is going to help me this time. It was just time filler.”

  “But time filling is good, right? I mean, I think it was good for you to get some space, to wake up and breathe some different air for a few days, to go somewhere where you wouldn’t be reminded of him.” Apparently she didn’t want to say his name either. “It certainly didn’t hurt, did it?”

  “No, it didn’t hurt. I wish Dexter was single and heterosexual, though. He would be the love of my life.” I smiled, remembering our week together affectionately.

  Anna smiled with me. “Mom just about blew a gasket when I told her you were in London,” she said, somewhat peeved.

  I rolled my eyes, dreading what was sure to be a long lecture.

  “Why didn’t you call her and let her know you were going?”

  “I figured you would,” I whined, contorting my face into a guilty grimace. “I’m sorry. I totally owe you one.”

  “Just one?” Anna huffed out a breath that sounded almost like a snort. “You left me to do the dirty work!”

  “What did you tell her?” I asked anxiously.

  “I told her everything,” Anna said defiantly.

  I glared back at her with my mouth open. “You did not.”

  “If you didn’t want her to know, then you should’ve called her yourself and given her your version,” Anna argued.

  “My version would’ve been without all of the sordid details. It would’ve been something more generic like, we just weren’t compatible. Mom’s left me a couple of messages. I think she thinks I’m going to have a breakdown or something.”

  “Can you blame her?” Anna asked, defending Mom. “I mean, you did take off to another country without any warning.”

  I was starting to feel guilty now and Anna knew it. “She’s just worried about you, Julia, that’s all. You’re her daughter.”

  I blew some hair out of my face. “I know. I owe her an apology.” I looked at Anna and admitted guiltily, “I owe you one, too, Anna. I’m sorry for making you do all of my dirty work. You know I love you and appreciate you, right?” I gave her my best apologetic puppy dog look.

  She gave me a wry look, but couldn’t help smiling. “Well, you can apologize to Mom in about an hour.”

  I looked at her inquisitively, raising an eyebrow in question.

  “We’re meeting her at Habitude in Ballard,” she said with a grin. “I know you’re probably tired, but to help fight your jet lag, we’re going to have a girl’s afternoon at the spa. And Mom said she’s paying.” She briefly pulled both her hands from the steering wheel to motion a little clap with her fingertips.

  I loved my family.

  The spa featured beauty products for sale and a makeup and hair salon. It was a spur of moment decision, but I decided I wanted to get my hair cut after our facials and pedicures were completed. I needed something different. Both my mom and Anna looked at me and shrugged in agreement.

  The salon had set it up so that the three of us could sit next to each other for our pedicures. I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to stay awake through the uber-relaxing procedure, but I did. In fact, I enjoyed myself immensely. Sadly, I think (mostly due to me) the three of us hadn’t spent time together, just the three of us, in months. Mom caught us up on real estate market and how it was starting to shift back to a sellers’ market and Anna gave us the scoop on the new school year. She always had interesting stories to tell us about the kids in her classroom and some of their parents.

  Surprisingly, we didn’t talk much about my relationship foils. When we greeted Mom in the lobby of the spa, she had simply hugged me tight and told me she was glad I was home safe. During our pedicures, she inquired about Dexter and Jamie and some of the things I did on my trip, but I spoke very little about the real reason why I went to visit them in the first place.

  It was funny, but mothers seemed to have this uncanny way of giving their child a certain look and the child knew exactly what it meant, without her every having to say anything. I remembered when my mom found a little Ziploc bag of pot in my college backpack. She didn’t lecture me or freak out on me, she merely looked at me with such disappointment that I wanted to crawl into a little hole. That look said so much more than any words ever could have.

  The only thing my mom said today that alluded to what I had been going through this past week was to tell me that she was glad I had such good friends to lean on during difficult times. She held my hand and gave me a deep, knowing look that said that she wasn’t judging me, only that she loved me. I knew then that whatever pain I felt was hurting her, too. She just wanted to be with me and help bear the weight of the load. Upon recognizing her unspoken words, my eyes watered both out of my own heartache and my gratitude for her understanding.

  After our facials and pedicures, I was ready for my haircut. My mom and Anna sat down next to me to watch.

  “So, what would you like to do?” asked the hairstylist.

  I twisted my mouth in thought. “Cut it all off.” I heard a gasp behind me. “Like Anne Hathaway’s new short do.”

  “Julia, are you sure you want to do that?” Anna asked, looking a little freaked.

  I nodded. “Yes. I’m sure.” My lips were pressed in a thin line as I studied myself in the mirror. “I need to feel and see something different when I look in the mirror.”

  They looked a little nervous, but I could tell they were attributi
ng my need for a changed look, however drastic, to my emotional state.

  “A trip to London was pretty predictable. Why not cut off all your hair, too, if it’s going to make you feel better, right?” Anna shrugged and threw up her hands in resignation. “Fuck, why not?”

  Mom shot her a warning look, I suspected for her language, and patted me on the shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll look just lovely.”

  An hour later, I looked at myself in the mirror, touching the hair near my ears and styling it forward with my fingers. The ends were still a little wispy. Fortunately, it didn’t look too butch. In fact, it was quite feminine. It elongated my neck and my collarbone and shoulders looked sharper but more graceful. I stared at all my hair lying on the floor, still in awe of myself for having the nerve to do it.

  “Well, I never would’ve thought it, but short really works for you,” Anna said in appreciation. “I love it!”

  “Honey, it really does suit you,” Mom said. She smiled and then added, “Good decision.”

  “One step at a time …” I mumbled, whispering Dexter’s advice.

  On Monday morning, I quit MS. I was once so proud of working there. I had always felt like one of the coveted few that had this great opportunity working for one of the most iconic and sought after companies in the world. Leaving it felt like an end to my own personal era, to a part of my identity. The decision left me with very mixed emotions, both sad and liberating.

  It was time. It felt like the right thing to do. Everything I chose to do in my life needed to have a purpose. That’s just who I was. I wasn’t going to let what happened with Ryan defeat my spirit. One might think that quitting MS was evidence of defeat, but I chose to look at it very differently. Being forced to change my career direction was something that I didn’t have direct control over. Sure, it was a consequence of my voluntary actions, but I followed my heart, knowing all the risks. I’d gambled and lost.