Coffee in Common

by Dee Mann

  Rob was frantic. He couldn't find her anywhere. After leaving the florist with four dozen roses, the most he could carry, he rushed over to the Ritz only to discover she called in. Then he tried her cell phone, but she didn't answer, so he went to her apartment. She wasn't there, either. He started calling friends and family.

  Nobody's seen her. Or maybe she just asked everyone to tell me that. No. I can't believe that. I know her. She'd never ask someone to lie for her. She'd just tell me to my face to fuck off.

  On a whim, he headed to his apartment, hoping she might either be there or have left a note or a message on his machine, but again, no Lisa. He tried restaurants and coffee shops, everywhere she might hang out. Finally, he ran out of ideas.

  His arms were aching from carrying the roses as he crossed Tremont Street and found a bench on the Common where he could put them down, rest, and think.

  What a jerk I was. Paul was right. What kind of man would walk out like that?

  He glanced at his watch and muttered, "Lunchtime. Where would she…"

  And it hit him. He gathered up the roses had headed for the Public Gardens.

  As he approached her favorite bench from the rear, he could only see the right side of her face, but even at a distance he could see it was puffy from crying. His heart sank into his stomach.

  What can I do? What can I say to make this right?

  He stood watching her for a few minutes, desperate for inspiration. He thought about saying a prayer, and the thought gave him an idea.

  He extracted one rose and lay the rest down on the grass. Then he quietly moved up behind her, knelt, and began to pray out loud.

  "In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."

  He saw her stiffen at the sound of his voice, but she didn't turn around and, thankfully, didn't get up and walk away.

  "Dear Lord, please help me. I did a very stupid thing this morning, perhaps the stupidest thing any man's ever done. And I don't know if I can make it right on my own.

  "I think I really hurt the most wonderful woman you ever created, Lord. I did something I shouldn't have done, and then reacted so badly when I didn't get the response I expected.

  "I know there's no excuse, Lord. I know I'm stupid and weak. But Lord, I love this woman more than my own life. Please help me find the words to take away her pain, to make her smile again, to make her happy again. Please help me find the words to let her know how sorry I am. Please help me find a way for her to love me again. And if the only way you can make her love me again is to take my life, then do it now because I'd rather die knowing she loves me than live in a world without her.

  "But if the only way she can be happy is to never see me again, then please give me the strength to accept it. All I want, all I ever wanted was to make her happy. And now I've acted the fool and hurt her again.

  "I know I don't deserve your help, Lord, but…"

  "Enough already." Lisa turned enough to catch his eye. "Come over here and sit."

  Rob bowed his head and said softly, genuinely, "Thank you, Lord. However this works out, thank you." As he sat down next to her, he offered her the rose.

  "Only one?"

  "The rest are back there." He hooked his thumb over his shoulder.

  At her raised eyebrows, he said, "Wait," ran to retrieve the other roses, and hurried back to present them to her.

  "Oh, Robbie," she said with a mixture of tenderness and regret. "They're beautiful. Thank you."

  He sat down again, afraid to speak, but more afraid not to. "I'm so sorry."

  "Why did you leave? Why did you leave me there like that?"

  This is it. Whatever I say next will determine whether I live the rest of my life with this girl or spend it regretting my stupidity. There's no magic words. All I can do is be honest and hope it's enough.

  He looked into her eyes. "I was scared and hurt and confused and overwhelmed and I didn't know what else to do."

  "Scared?"

  "Scared you were telling me you didn't want me anymore. Scared you were being kind and that the six months thing was a way to let me down easy.

  "When I woke you up, when I jumped out of bed, I honestly believed you'd be happy I asked you, that you'd say yes, and you'd be crying tears of joy, not anguish or sadness or, or whatever they were. I thought you'd want to marry me. And when you didn't, I…" He let out a long sigh. "I felt like a fool, a loser. Suddenly, the dream I was having turned into a nightmare. You didn't want me and all I could think to do was run away from it, run away from the pain and humiliation. I couldn't face you anymore."

  "Then why are you here?"

  "Because someone who wasn't blinded by feeling sorry for himself pointed out that what you actually said did not necessarily lead to the conclusions I'd drawn. And then I realized I'd broken the promise we made a few weeks ago, the promise to talk things out. The first test, the first time I'm faced with a problem and I fail miserably. I'm so ashamed…and so sorry."

  Rob dropped his gaze to the bricks in front of them. He couldn't face her, couldn't bear to take the chance of seeing the wrong answer in her eyes when he asked, "Were you just trying to give yourself time to break it off?"

  "Oh Robbie." He heard tenderness in her voice. "I've handled it all so badly. It's me who should be sorry."

  She put her hand on his shoulder and asked him to look at her. "Robbie, I was trying to give myself time, but not to break up with you." She saw relief flood his eyes. "I was so unprepared for you to propose to me. It never occurred to…I mean, I hoped one day you'd ask, but I never thought it would be so soon. And you'd just woken me and I wasn't thinking straight and…" She took a deep breath. "Robbie, I love you. But there's something I have to tell you, something I should have…would have told you about if I had any idea you were thinking of proposing, something that only four other people in the world know.

  "I would have told you someday, after…well, that doesn't matter now. You deserve to know, and you may not feel the same about me afterward, but no matter what, I need you to promise me you will never tell this to anyone. Not Paul, not my parents, not your priest, no one. Will you promise?"

  "Promise? Lisa, what…? Yes, I promise. But, what did you do? Were you in jail? Did you kill someone?"

  Lisa closed her eyes. It was she, now, who did not want to chance seeing the wrong thing in Rob's eyes as she confessed, "I'm married."

  1:15 PM

  Priya was not an especially heavy sleeper and was awakened by the motion of the bed as Maggie sat on the edge.

  "Hi." She rubbed her still-heavy eyelids, then ran her fingers through her hair. "What time is…oh Maggie…you've been crying. What's wrong?"

  "I was going to leave, but when I opened the bag I almost gagged. I'm so embarrassed about last night. I had no right to burden you with all that stuff." She shook her head. "I can imagine what you must think of me, but please, promise you won't tell the other girls. I…I really enjoy the dinners each week and I couldn't stand for all the girls to know about…you know."

  Priya swung her legs off the mattress and put her arm around the woman's shoulder. "No one will ever know anything unless you tell them. Is that why you were crying? You were worried my mouth is as big as my boobs?"

  That drew a faint smile to the sad, puffy face. "No. I…" She let the thought trail off.

  "What?"

  "Nothing. I'll be okay. All I need…"

  "Bullshit!" Priya spat it out with such force she could feel Maggie's shoulders twitch. She removed her arm and turned so she was facing the sad woman. "Unless you're prepared to open that bag and put on those clothes, or leave here wearing that nightgown, you had better start talking." Her voice softened. "Please, Maggie, talk to me. Whatever it is, please let me help."

  Maggie didn't answer, but neither did she move. After a minute of silence, Priya started bumping her with her hip as she chided playfully, "Come on, you know you want to. And I'm really pretty experienced for a virgin."

  That
drew a second smile, but it quickly faded. Sensing she needed to think, Priya sat quietly with her, hip to hip, until finally Maggie asked, "Do you have any coffee?"

  "I've never told anyone what I told you last night." Maggie shifted slightly on the kitchen chair, then added a teaspoon of sugar to her cup and stirred slowly, thoughtfully.

  "Then I'm truly honored."

  Her eyes shot up, expecting to see mocking or amusement, but instead found only sincerity and respect.

  "I was crying before because when I woke up and realized what I said and what you now knew, well, it scared me. It made me see myself through your eyes and…and I hate what I see."

  Tears threatened to spill down her pale cheeks.

  "I'm so tired of being sad and lonely like…like some shadow of a woman who uses sex to hide from life." She caught Priya's surprised expression. "You thought I didn't know what I was doing?" Priya nodded. "I do. I realized a long time ago and I've hated myself for it for years, but I don't know how to stop."

  "Maggie, you just stop."

  "You don't understand. It's an addiction, like a drug. Maybe worse. Something inside me is so frightened of being hurt again the way Billy hurt me that no matter what I do, no matter who I'm with, I can't open my heart. So I open my legs and it makes me feel good for a while, even though I know I'll feel bad again later on.

  "Maybe I could have changed things ten years ago, but now?" She shook her head. "And even if I could change, who'd want me? Who'd want someone who's slept with hundreds of men?" The tears overflowed. "What decent guy would fall in love with a slut like me?"

  Priya let her weep for a bit before she said gently, "You're right, Maggie. No decent guy wants a slut. But don't you see? You have the power to change who you are. The moment you decide to change, and accept the change in your head and in your heart, you'll become a new person. Then, no one can call you a slut. No one can call you anything but who you'll be – a bright, desirable woman.

  Priya's confidence was answered by a simple, "I can't."

  "You're right again. If you believe you can't, you'll never change. But with a different attitude, you certainly can. People kick drug habits all the time. Did you know that it's harder to quit smoking than to give up heroin? Yet people do it every day. Somehow, they find the strength to do it."

  "Sure, and lots of people go back to it."

  "And lots of people don't. You're a smart, personable, funny, beautiful woman, Maggie, and…

  The doorbell cut her off.

  "Who the heck is that?" She went to the front window. A delivery van from a local florist was double parked. She walked over to the intercom, pressed the button and said, "Hello?"

  "Hi. I have a delivery for P. Kumar."

  Priya met the girl at the door, not the least self-conscious about the ratty bathrobe she had on.

  "They're beautiful," Maggie said as Priya placed on the table the huge vase full of Orange Asiatic Lilies, Belladonna Delphinium, Blue Iris, Orange and Yellow Germinis, Burgundy Matsumoto Asters, and Leather Leaf. "Who are they from?"

  "We'll find out in a second." She opened the envelope and removed the card. "Oh." The card dropped to the table.

  Maggie reached for it.

  Dear Priya,

  I heard you called in today. I hope you're feeling well.

  Whatever you think I've done, please give me the opportunity to explain or make it right.

  Please call me. 617-555-3274

  Brian

  "Whoever Brian is, he must really like you. He spent a bundle on these."

  "Brian's nobody."

  She told her the whole story.

  "Ouch. That sucks. But I can see why he keeps trying. To a guy like that, a virgin your age with your, umm, gifts, would be one fucking huge trophy to brag about. I wonder how much effort he'll put in before he gives up."

  Priya shrugged. "Who knows and who cares. But speaking of effort, let me ask you something. When you're at dinner with the girls, or with other friends, and you're all smiling and joking about screwing this guy or bragging about how many guys you've had, like you were doing last night, is that easy for you to do?"

  "I don't understand."

  "Is it easy to pretend you're not miserable? Is it easy to pretend you don't hate who you are? Is it easy to make everyone believe you love being promiscuous?"

  Maggie dabbed at her eyes with her napkin as she thought about it for a few seconds. "No. No it's not. I mean, it's easy to joke around and all, but even as I'm doing it a part of me wants to scream, wants to tell them all the truth. Holding that in is the hard part."

  "I'll bet it is. Think of how disciplined you must be to do that. Now consider this – what if you put all that effort into changing what you hate instead of hiding it."

  "Priya, I've tried, I really have. More than once. But it's too hard. I can't bear being by myself. It's too lonely. Once, I went a whole month, but most of the times it only took a week or two."

  "And who did you have to talk to those times? Family? A girlfriend?"

  Maggie shook her head. "Nobody."

  "And you're surprised you failed? Would you try to pick up a sofa and move it by yourself?"

  Again her head shook.

  "Of course not. It would be too difficult. So why in the world did you imagine you could change your whole life without any help from anyone?"

  "It's really not the same thing."

  "Yes, it is. Both are things for which anyone would need help.

  "Maggie, please look at me." She waited until her new friend met her eyes. "Maggie, I don't know much about sex addiction, but I do know that overcoming any addiction is very hard without someone to support you, someone to help you be strong when you feel weak. So I swear to you right now, that if you're willing to make the effort, I will learn all there is to know about it. Actually, we'll both learn about it together. And I promise you I will be there for you any time you need me."

  "But why would you do that. You really don't even know me. Why would you want to make that kind of commitment to someone you've only just met?"

  "Because I like you. Because you're someone I'd like to have for a friend. Because you need someone, and I can't bear the thought of someone I like living in such pain and misery. And because it'll be incredibly good Karma, and I really need the points."

  When Maggie didn't answer for a full minute, Priya rose and dumped the old filter and grounds, rinsed the pot, set it all up again and flipped the switch. Then she sat back down, folded her hands on the table, and waited.

  She could tell Maggie was thinking. Probably weighing the chances Priya was on the level.

  How hard it must be for someone who's lived with such hurt for so long to trust someone.

  As she waited, she said a silent prayer, asking the gods to deliver her friend from anguish and help her start a new life.

  Neither spoke as the coffee dripped. When it was done, Maggie rose, filled both their cups, and returned the pot to its place. Then she leaned against the counter and watched from behind as Priya toyed with her teaspoon.

  Had Priya been able to see Maggie, she'd have noticed a calm come over her a moment before she picked up the cups and walked back to her chair. She stopped next to Priya long enough to set down her cup and touch her shoulder. Then she returned to her seat, smiled, and said, "Well, if you really need the points…"

  MONDAY, MAY 24

  7:50 PM

  "Mmmmmmm. That was nice. May I take off my jacket now?"

  Paul laughed. "Hey, I haven't seen you since this morning. And besides, I would think you'd like it that I can't wait to kiss you when you come home."

  Come home?

  Jillian still couldn't decide if Paul was aware of saying things like that, things that meant so much and gave such insight into his thoughts and feelings for her.

  Come home implies he thinks of his apartment as my home, too. Of course, he said the same thing last week when he got to my place after work. Evidently he thinks wherever we are toge
ther is home.

  The thought sent a wave of warmth through her.

  He'd been especially attentive over the weekend. Since she wouldn't let him help with her problem, he decided to make their time together special to let her know he would support her any way he could.

  She mentally flogged herself again for allowing even a tiny part of her heart to want Aiden. She saw him again Saturday afternoon, but not Sunday or today.

  Maybe he realized I'm with Paul now and went away again. Forever.

  Her head hoped so but her heart was conflicted. It still wanted closure, wanted to hurt him and hold him at the same time. She realized she was dividing her attention again and felt guilty as she watched Paul walk back into the kitchen. Something smelled great. "What's cooking?"

  "A curry recipe I stole from a friend in California. How about opening that bottle of wine? I just remembered something." He turned the flame under the curry to low, walked out of the kitchen, through the living room, into his bedroom.

  As the cork came free, he reappeared holding a small package wrapped in aluminum foil, shaped suspiciously like a CD case. "This is for you. Sorry about the wrapping. It was either that, or a piece of old newspaper."

  "What is it?"

  "A little gift. Open it and find out."

  She tore the foil off and saw it was indeed a homemade CD. She flipped it over to read the handwritten song titles. "This looks familiar."

  "It's a copy of the one Gary had playing for us in the limo on our first date. We both seemed to like it so much, I called him over the weekend and asked if he could burn a copy. Then I burned another for me so we can have one here and at your place, too."

  "Paul, that's so sweet. Thank you." She leaned over and gave him a kiss more suited for dessert than a simple thanks.

  "Delicious. I'm definitely giving you gifts more often." He stirred the curry, then held out a spoon for her to taste.

  "Oh wow! That's fantastic!"

  Paul grinned, pleased at the praise. "So how was your day?"