“You totally blew off his lawyer?” Kevin asks incredulously on Thursday night. The three of us have gathered at Angela’s for pizza, because she’s been craving it almost every day since the baby news broke, and she says being in a bar or restaurant with everyone drinking around her feels like torture, not unlike electrocution or water boarding. Of course she’s being melodramatic, but I feel like it’s okay to indulge a pregnant woman. Even if she’s only very newly pregnant and can’t play that card with anyone but her closest confidantes.
“It was cathartic,” I say, as I take what I hope is a surreptitious sip of my Chianti. Staying out of bars in solidarity with Angela is one thing; she can forget about me abstaining altogether.
“So are you going to talk to the press?” Angela asks.
“I don’t think so, but I haven’t totally ruled it out.” The reporters who staked out my building mercifully disappeared after I gave them nothing but silence for two days, but I’ve received a couple of calls at work, from the producers of the major news shows, offering to pay me for an interview. The Town Crier has told them I’ll get back to them.
“Boss-zilla must hate that you’re the center of attention all of a sudden,” Kevin says.
“Fortunately, I’m in Carol’s very good graces these days.”
“How so? Did her precious Janice get into school?” Angela manages to pull her attention away from her third slice of pizza, which she’s been devouring like some starving orphan who’s never seen food besides gruel.
“Actually, yes, she’ll be going to Yale in the fall, but there’s so much more.” I fill them in on the job offer in Washington, and how I’m leaning towards accepting it. Truth be told, I know I’m going to take it, first thing tomorrow.
“So sad for me, but how fantastic for you!” Angela squeals. “And my sister’s already down there, so I’ll get to visit both of you for the price of one.”
Kevin, not surprisingly, sounds slightly less enthused. “It does sound like a big step up, but are you sure you want to become middle management? You’ll have way more interaction with Carol, even if it’s over the phone.”
“Maybe I’m a lunatic for being an optimist, but I think Carol and I understand each other a lot better than I thought we did. I have this Zen-like sense that it’s really going to be okay. Not that I don’t have a ton of stuff to do before January. Like finding an apartment, and figuring out the status of my place.”
“Whether you’re moving or not, you should get a lawyer. I bet you have a solid case that the apartment is yours. You didn’t do anything illegal, you just exhibited extraordinarily bad taste in men,” Kevin says.
I don’t want to escalate, so I laugh and stick my tongue out at him. Juvenile, I know, and not befitting someone who’s about to become management, but I do it anyway. It works. He rolls his eyes and laughs.
Angela has stopped to digest before reaching for a fourth slice. “Not so fast with the condemnation there, O’Connor. If the Oscar disaster hadn’t come to light when it did, Zoë might be tempted to turn down the best thing that’s ever happened to her professionally. So maybe everything happens for a reason.” She pats her non-existent belly as she says this, and turns to me. “The hot male attention was good for what was ailing you this fall, but it had to end unambiguously, not just fizzle or fade, for you to move on. So I think it’s all good, just like my news is all good.”
“What news is that?” I ask. She can’t possibly have anything that trumps the baby. Wait. She must mean the baby. Why did I have to say that?
“Claudio and I are moving in together. He came over last night and we had a long talk, and I really think he wants to give us a try. He’s going to come live here for a couple of months, and if things go well, we’ll start looking for a bigger place in time for the baby’s arrival. He says it’s his life, and if his parents are scandalized, that’s their problem, and anyway, they’ll come around when il bambino makes its entrance. He says he won’t even mind sharing the bed with Ernest and Algernon.”
“Wow. You’re going to do the domestic bliss thing and I won’t be here to witness this earth-moving event.” Angela’s beaming as I say this. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her look so content. It’s strange how fast things can be turned upside down. Mere weeks ago she was single-mindedly career obsessed.
“I know. Tragic, isn’t it? But I don’t care how driven and successful you become, I need you to swear to me, on a whole stack of Bibles, that you’ll come up and host my baby shower. I can’t bear the thought of one of Mom’s friends running with it. It would be so suburban. And there’s no way I’m allowing any dumb games or measuring of my girth. I want a classy, champagne cocktails type of affair.”
“Don’t lose sleep over that. I wouldn’t dream of letting anyone come near your stomach with a measuring tape. And if someone tries, you can always knock them out with one good swing of your favorite Fendi.”
Kevin says, “Alright, this is getting way too girlie, even for me, and I’m kind of used to you guys. Do you have any beer, or did you purge it when you got the big news?”
“There should be a couple hiding in the back of the fridge. By all means, take them off my hands. I don’t need Sam Adams calling me in the wee hours of the night.”
“Do you believe everything happens for a reason?” Kevin asks as we’re walking home. It’s an unusually warm and pleasant night for early December, so when he suggested saving six bucks and stretching our legs I was fine with that. Especially since Angela was ready for bed well before ten. She may be a happy, glowing pregnant lady, but she’s a sleepy one, too.
“I suppose. Believing that gives a certain sense of order to all the chaos.”
“Because I didn’t want to say anything tonight, and I’m not sure exactly why not. Maybe it’s because I don’t have an offer in hand yet, but now I feel like spilling my news.”
“Well?” We’re paused at an intersection three blocks from our building, waiting for the walk sign.
“I’m interviewing in Washington. I’ve got appointments next week for three Congressional chief of staff spots and another for communications director for the Democratic Senatorial Campaign Committee.”
“Wow. That’s great. And here you were, all worried you’d be banished to the northern reaches of the great State of New York to run a campaign for some creepy gun-toting county coroner.”
He grabs my arm and turns me to face him. It’s obvious he’s got something else on his mind. “I think your offer from Carol is a sign. Maybe we should move together, try to make a go of us.”
The light finally turns and gives me a legitimate reason to look away, because I’m really not sure whether he’s going to make me scream or cry.
“Not even a week ago, you were proposing to Angela,” I remind him, and yes, I mean to say it every bit as snidely as it comes out.
“Temporary insanity?” he asks, with the hopeful and ever-so-slightly goofy grin that’s won him his way with countless women in the past.
“It sure was insane,” I agree. “And we’re all entitled to a little bit of crazy from time to time, but it still didn’t feel so nice for me to hear that news.”
“I’m so sorry for any pain I caused you, Zoë. You have to believe me. The last thing I’d want to do is hurt you. But it was making me crazy, thinking that you’d never want me, and it feels like high time to stop sleeping around, and Angela needed someone. And while I’m apologizing, I might as well add that I feel awful about all the digs I’ve made at your career over the years. It would be totally wrong for me, but it suits you and that’s awesome. There are worse things than finding jobs for lawyers. In fact, it appears I wasted a good chunk of my time trying to fulfill the political aspirations of a liar, thief and pervert.” We’ve stopped at our building and I start fumbling in my bag for the keys. He puts his hand on mine and says, “Wait a second. Let me get this out.”
We step aside to let the elderly couple who live in the penthouse pass. Interesting. We’re
home from a night out at the same time as a pair of octogenarians, one of whom totes an oxygen tank.
Once the door shuts behind them, Kevin takes both my hands and says, “I love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone, and I’m pretty sure, based on your behavior at and after Angela’s birthday party, that you at least feel something for me. We’ve been friends for so long, and we’re so in tune to each other. We owe it to ourselves to give us a chance. What better way than a fresh start in a new city?”
“A fresh start sounds almost divine to me, and I’m really happy that you’re probably going to live there, too...”
Before I can devise how to phrase what I need to say, he kisses me. Despite my best intentions, I find myself kissing him back, and it feels right and comfortable and tremendously exciting, all at the same time. Even though he tastes not-so-faintly of winter lager. He pulls away for a moment, and looks at me as if trying to read my reaction before cupping my face in his hands and kissing me again. For a second, I let myself go and enjoy the moment. He somehow manages to extract his keys from his pocket and let us into the building. He leads me up the stairs, hand in hand, and I start to think, maybe this feels right because it is right.
It could be the insistent and utterly unromantic fluorescent lighting in our hallway, or perhaps it’s the little voice in my head shrilly shouting, “Brakes! Brakes!” Or perhaps I just reach somewhere within myself and find the resolve I had ten minutes ago on the sidewalk.
We’re standing in the hall, between our apartment doors, and he’s clearly waiting for an invitation into mine, because he’s put his own keys back in his pocket. He looks at me with slightly confused eyes and I think, he is so adorable. And smart and kind and loyal and an extraordinarily adept kisser, among many other great things.
But he’ll also be all those things in a month or two. And, the little voice in my head says matter-of-factly, he’ll still have all his not-so-wonderful points, like he’s a workaholic, and he’s moody, and his relationship track record isn’t anything to write home about. I tell her to shush and kiss Kevin again. He holds me close and I feel the bulge form in his pants.
I force myself to pull away.
Kevin looks at me lustily. “Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are?”
Something inside me melts, and aches to kiss him again and lead him to my bedroom for what would promise to be an amazing night. We could see where we go in the morning.
But I know if I do this now, I’m plunging head long into something that can only be forever or end very badly. I’m not a relationship genius, or anything close to it, but this I know for sure: If I start dating Kevin, we will either get married or suffer a horrible break up that will result in neither of us wanting to speak to the other ever again.
And maybe I’m up for that risk, but not today.
“This is so hard to say, because, right now, I want you so badly it hurts.” I’m thankful I only had one glass of wine. If I was drunk, I might be in bed with him already. “I’m not rejecting you, or saying never, but I need a little time, and not just to rebound from the Oscar nightmare, because I know that’s what you’re thinking. I need to learn to stand on my own, live independently, and see what that feels like. I’ve never done anything without a man holding my hand. This summer doesn’t count, because I did nothing but hide and wallow, and I’m not about to make that mistake again. I jumped into a whirlwind romance with Oscar when I wasn’t ready, because he fell into my lap and I was so excited to have what I thought was my first really mature relationship.” I shake my head and marvel at how clueless I was.
“It’s alright. Everyone makes a wrong turn now and then. You just have to keep moving forward.”
“You’re right, but I’ve also figured out that it’s very hazardous to hunt for a new relationship while still heartbroken over the old one.” I force a little laugh, hopeful this last remark will lighten the mood.
Kevin tries to smile, but his eyes still look sad. “You’re not really hunting. I’m here. You don’t have to sniff me out and stalk me like I’m some unwitting prey animal. God knows you do enough of that at work. You don’t need it in your love life.” When I don’t respond, he asks, “Seriously, what do you need to feel more comfortable?”
“I don’t think I need tons of time, but I do want to make the move by myself, find my own place and get my feet wet in a job I’m really excited about. Then we can see. I’m thrilled you’ll be coming down there, too, and you may think this sounds nuts, given everything I just said, but I have a good feeling about us. Just not right this minute.”
I hold my breath and wait for his response. Part of me braces for a minor tirade about my need to grow up, or seize the day, or whatever. Kevin surprises me, though. He takes a deep breath, exhales and says, “None of that makes me feel great right in this particular moment.” He glances below his navel and flashes me his most flirtatious smile. “But it’s the smartest thing I’ve ever heard you say. Take whatever time you need. I’ll be here. Or there. Or, you know what I mean.” He gives me a quick kiss on the lips before forcing himself to turn and go into his own apartment, by himself.
With the security chain fastened and my boots kicked off, I take a lingering look around the apartment I was so scared of losing when Brendan called off the wedding, and realize I don’t care at all that I’m not going to live here anymore. I pour myself a glass of wine, but before I even take a sip, I dial Carol’s voicemail. I know she’ll check it tonight and again very early in the morning. “Hi Carol, it’s Zoë. It’s not an emergency. I just wanted to let you know that I’m thrilled to take the job in D.C. Thank you again for giving me this opportunity, and I’m looking forward to discussing the details.”
When I hang up, I don’t even need to go look in the bathroom mirror, because I can feel myself smiling from ear to ear. And it feels extra wonderful, because this time, it’s not because of anything some guy has done for me. I’ve realized, perhaps slightly belatedly, with over three decades on the planet, that I have the power to make myself happy. I raise my glass and toast a new beginning.
The Hazards of Hunting While Heartbroken Page 32