by West, Lara
Sunday mornings normally consist of long sleep-ins, coffee and yoga.
But my ringing cellphone has other ideas.
I reach out feebly toward the bedside table, fumbling a few times before I finally have it in my hands. I hold the phone up, squinting in tiredness to see who it is before I answer, only to have it slip from my grasp.
“Damnit!” I curse as the hard plastic falls straight onto my nose and rings out.
When I finally get another hold on it, I freeze when I see the missed call.
Dylan.
My first instinct is to call him back.
My second instinct is to ignore the first and so I go with that. I won’t give him the satisfaction of thinking I care.
Although I try to stay as far away from the bookstore on Sundays as possible, I decide I need the distraction. Dylan has tried to call another four times since this morning.
But I am still in two minds about answering.
The subway ride is strangely calming though. The shifting of the carriage is a comfort against the backdrop of my melancholic thoughts.
When I finally hop off and head up into the open air, the sun hovers over Manhattan in a cloudless sky.
I cannot feel the cold or see the beginnings of snow that I know are blanketed around the place. It is as if winter has decided to take the day off.
Winter must be a guy.
Lucky jerk.
When I walk into the bookstore, Tom and Emma get quite a surprise when I catch them kissing behind the counter.
Just perfect.
The distraction is already working like a charm…not.
“Sorry Ella. No one was around. We just got carried away,” Tom says panicking.
“Regardless of whether the store is empty or not I do not want to see you guys doing that out here. If Mel and I didn’t already have a bet going on whether or not you guys were actually going to get together then this would have been an instant dismissal.”
Both sets of cute eyes look to me.
They are just innocent kids and I came down on them like a mean bitch. That’s not who I am.
“Storeroom only. Got it?” I tell them firmly, but then I give them a cheeky smile.
“Got it, Ella. It won’t happen again,” Emma says meekly, looking mortified. “It’s the end of my shift now. I better get going.”
As she goes to grab her backpack I gesture for Tom to follow. “Go ahead Tom. I’ll lock up.”
“Are you sure? It’s only midday?”
“It’s okay. I won’t dock you. You kids just get out of here.” I smile faintly, remembering what it was like to be young and carefree.
Then, like fate is once again showing me that it has a sense of humor, I hear the bell jingle on the door and turn to see Dylan walking in.
“Oh no. Not another step buddy.”
“Ella I…”
“I really don’t want to hear what you have to say, Dylan,” I sneer, showing him the way back to the door.
“But I want to explain.”
“And I said I’m not interested. Just go okay?”
“No, not until you hear me out.”
I decide to take it one step further. I cannot speak to him right now.
“If you don’t leave, I’ll call the cops.”
Dylan looks at me coldly, offended. “That’s a bit dramatic isn’t it? Surely you wouldn’t do that.”
I hesitate when I see a trace of hurt in his eyes.
But my stubbornness is all-consuming.
“If that’s what it will take to make you leave then I’ll do it,” I yell.
Dylan stands there helpless for a minute, begging with his eyes.
I feel myself slowly unraveling, coming around to the idea that perhaps I am not being fair. He looks so haggard.
But not in a way that it has spoiled his looks. He is still the most handsome man I have ever met, just more ruggedly so with his simple grey slacks, sweater and runners.
He seems different from the confident Dylan McCormack I was with on Friday night, more vulnerable and exposed.
In a moment of pity I decide to ask if everything is all right, but he catches sight of Tom and Emma standing by the storeroom and leaves before I get the chance.
“I’ll talk to you when you’re willing to be reasonable,” he says without turning back.
I watch him briskly disappear down the sidewalk, head lowered and shoulders hunched against the wind, consumed again swiftly by the throbbing city.
Chapter Thirteen
“Happy Tuesday!” Mel exclaims, bouncing into the store.
I look up briefly and fake a smile, returning to the piles of newly shipped novels on the floor. Romance stories…just what I need.
“Guess who got some last night?” Mel continues jovially.
“On a Monday night? Where did you meet the guy? The subway?”
“Ha cute, but no. Goodbye dating apps, hello one night stand app!”
“What?”
“You haven’t heard about the new dating app, the one where you don’t actually go on a date? It’s ALL about the hook up.”
“They have an app for that now? Seriously? The other dating apps were bad enough.”
“Well not everyone is as lucky or as beautiful as you, Ella. You had Dylan and Cole chasing after you, two of the best-looking guys in Manhattan. And don’t you dare roll those eyes at me! You know I’m right.”
“Whatever.”
“Anyway, the app is called JustOneNightStands and his name was Jake. You ought to have seen his abs!”
“I’ll take your word for it,” I laugh, shaking my head.
“And on the topic of killer abs, have you heard from ‘Mr. Manhattan’ since you blew a gasket on his ass on Sunday?”
“No. Like I told you yesterday, when I also didn’t hear from him, I’ll let you know if I do.”
“Okay, okay. But I still think you should have just let him explain.”
“Mel! Can we not do this right now? It’s bad enough I have to spend the day up to my ears in romance novels.”
“Man, take a chill pill!” Mel huffs.
As I watch her walk off a part of me knows that she is right.
I should have let Dylan explain.
But the other part of me, the 18-year-old insecure and fragile part, always triumphs.
Who needs a bad boy for a boyfriend anyway, remember?
****
It is sunset and the sidewalk is full of people making their way back home from work.
It should be me out there, but the thought of going back to my lackluster apartment is depressing. Mel left an hour ago, another hookup on JustOneNightStands.
It is a shame we did not end up going to the ballet.
It would have at least opened up Mel’s eyes to a classier type of man. Cole’s friends are all businessmen and socialites. Cole, I wonder if…no.
Be real, Ella.
You know there was no spark.
Not like with Dylan...damn!
Just when I think I have banished him from my mind he pops back in again. How many more years will it take to get over this guy now?
Twenty?
When I finally head out the door to lock up, the chilly air seeps onto my face and neck, making me shiver under my coat. I usually love winter in New York: the snow, the ice-skating rink, the fashion and the satisfaction of a hot cup of cocoa as rain pitter-patters outside.
But today is different and somber.
I blame “he-who-must-not-be-named”.
“Ella.”
I scream and drop my keys, swinging around to glare at Dylan.
“Oh my gosh,” I say, trying to catch my breath. “You scared me. Are you stalking me now?”
“What? No. I just want to talk.” He bends down and picks up the keys, holding them securely in one glove.
“Look, I thought I made things pretty clear yesterday. I am not interested in talking.”
“But that is completely unreasonable. I haven’t do
ne anything wrong. If you would just let me tell you what happened.”
“Excuse me? I woke up and you were gone! I didn’t hear from you all day. How do you think that made me feel? I don’t care what the reason was. You could have left a note or sent a text.”
“There wasn’t any time for that.”
“There’s always time,” I snap, snatching the keys off him. “Just leave me alone.” I begin to walk away but Dylan grabs me, spinning me back around.
“You don’t know what I’ve been through.”
“Don’t touch me,” I shout. “You don’t know what I’ve been through either. You don’t care how I feel or how my life is really going. You haven’t even asked how my Mom has been doing all these years. She was practically a mother to you, better than your real Mom ever was.”
He stares at me with an open mouth.
It is a harsh comment but I am too fired up from the initial jolt to stop.
“All you have ever been interested in is getting girls into bed,” I continue my rant, “This is just like high school all over again. Only this time I have turned into one of those suckers who went back for more.”
“That’s not true. I care more for you than I did for any of those girls. I haven’t felt this way about anyone before…and I already know how your Mom is.”
“What?”
How could he possibly know?
“You’re lying. As if you have talked to my Mom.”
I pretend not to notice the people gawking at us as they walk past. Just another lovers tiff they are probably thinking.
Pitiful.
“I know because I…I see your Mom almost everyday,” Dylan says softly.
I look at him closely, a staunch crease set in his forehead.
“What are you talking about?” I ask more calmly.
“Your Mom is here in New York. She’s been nursing my dying father.”
Chapter Fourteen
I blink, trying to comprehend what Dylan has said.
“Wait. What?”
My Mom is in New York?
Tony is dying?”
“I know it’s a lot to take in. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” Dylan says, taking my hand. “I was going to tell you that morning after you woke up. But then the hospital called because Dad had gone into cardiac arrest and I had to go. He’s all right now but…”
“Stop. This is crazy. If what you’re saying about Tony is true, then I’m sorry. But my Mom would have told me if she was here in New York.”
I pull away from him, edging back slowly.
“Your Mom wanted to tell you. I think she just thought it might upset you.”
“Upset me? No ‘this whole thing’ has upset me. I… I have to go.”
“Ella, wait. Please,” I hear Dylan cry out but I am already sprinting away.
I do not stop until I reach the underground.
Until the doors to the subway close and I am on my way back to Brooklyn.
My Mom cannot be in New York.
She hates Tony.
I hate Tony.
They got divorced before I even finished my first year of college and she has not mentioned him since.
Dylan has to be lying.
This cannot be happening right now.
I storm into my apartment and take a shot from the bottle of Tequila sitting in the pantry.
“Gross,” I say gagging, but it has done the trick.
I am ready.
Mom picks up on the first ring. “Ella? Honey?”
“Are you in New York?” I ask pointblank.
“Oh dear, is Dylan with you?”
“So it’s true?”
“Look, why don’t we meet up somewhere and talk about it?”
“No, I want to talk about it now. Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were here? And about Tony?”
Mom pauses on the other end of the line.
“I wanted to tell you darling. I really did. But then I remembered how much you don’t like Tony. I didn’t want you to be upset with me about it.”
“Mom the man is dying. I’m not soulless, give me some credit.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice breaking. “Dylan said he wanted to be the one to tell you. He was really looking forward to seeing you again, Ella. So is Tony. They’ve both changed so much.
I take a few deep breaths before continuing on. “How is Tony?”
“You know Tony. He may have softened somewhat but he’s still as stubborn as a mule when he has to be. He’s determined to beat this damn disease.”
“Wow. Who would’ve thought Tony’s stubbornness would actually turn out to be a good thing,” I joke.
Mom chuckles and sniffs a few times, probably drying her eyes.
“And how are you coping Mom? I take it you and Tony are back together then?”
“No, that shipped sailed a long time ago. We were madly in love once but we’re just good friends now.”
“I’m glad Tony has you to help him through this,” I say genuinely.
“That’s nice of you to say darling. I hoped you would understand. Now, how is Dylan? We haven’t seen him for a couple of days.”
“To be honest I’m not sure, Mom. We had a huge fight just then at the bookstore. I didn’t believe him about you being here in New York. I just ran off. Everything is a complete mess.”
“No it’s not. Just go and find him. He’ll understand. He was prepared for what you might say.”
“I don’t know Mom. I was pretty harsh on him. He might not want to speak to me again.”
“He will. And when you do find him, please tell him that Tony has been asking for him.”
“Thanks Mom. I will.”
“I love you, honey.”
“I love you too Mom.”
I quickly hang up the phone and compose myself.
I will try Dylan’s apartment first and if he is not there I will ring Mom back and ask what hospital Tony is in.
Maybe I can catch Dylan on his next visit?
But as I rush to the door and fling it wide open in panic, I do not see the figure already standing there.
I crash head first into Dylan, both of us falling in a heap with a thud.
“Dylan! I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you,” I shriek, swiftly rolling off him. He gets up effortlessly, bending down to pull me up too like I am only feathers and air.
“It’s ok, Ella. Are you hurt?”
“No,” I sob, flinging my arms around him.
Dylan holds me quietly, hugging me tightly.
“This is much better,” he says, nuzzling my neck. “I like this.”
I laugh into his chest and breathe in the cologne.
“I’m forgiven then?” he asks, tilting my face up to meet the curve of his unfaultable smile.
“There’s nothing to forgive, “ I whisper sincerely, gazing into his eyes. “I’m the one who needs to be forgiven. I just spoke to my Mom. I’ve acted like such a…”
Dylan silences me with his lips, warm and soft against my own.
“I forgive you,” he says, finally coming up for air. “Now lets go inside. I want to tell you everything.”
“And I want to know everything, but can we go to your apartment? I don’t think I can bear another minute in mine.”
“Sure,” he laughs.
“I just need to grab a warmer coat. I’ll be one minute,” I say, kissing his cheek.
“I’ll hail a cab.” Dylan smirks and heads for the staircase. “Oh and bring a few days change of clothes. I don’t want to let you out of my sight for a very long time.”
Chapter Fifteen
I am back at the window, looking out at the majestic Manhattan skyline.
“You really are transfixed aren’t you?” Dylan asks behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist.
“It’s just too beautiful,” I say. “You’re so lucky to have an apartment like this. I could stay here forever.”
“Then why don’t you?”
“What?”
“You heard me.” He releases his arms and ushers me over to one of the lounges. “But we need to talk about things first.”
“Of course,” I say, sitting down.
“Remember when I told you that you were a big part of helping me get through prison? Well that’s only half the reason why I have persisted with you.”
“Okay. Go on.”
“The other reason is because of dad. When he was diagnosed with Stage Three colon cancer a year ago, there was only a 53% chance the chemotherapy would kill it. That half-assed percentage really put a lot of things in perspective.”
Dylan wavers, glancing down briefly before locking his eyes back on mine.
“Colon cancer? That’s cancer of the large intestine right?”
“Yeah, it’s not nice. Unfortunately when the doctors found it, it was already in the C stage, which it means it had grown beyond the muscular layer of the bowel wall to the lymph nodes. It’s complicated to explain but so far he’s been responding to the treatment well.”
“Gosh. Poor Tony. He must be terrified.”
“A little, but you know my father, he’s always been headstrong. But getting back to what I was saying before, Ella. The truth is, I don’t know if I would have had the guts to walk into your bookstore a couple of weeks ago if dad hadn’t gotten sick.”
I stare at him, a little puzzled by what he means. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
“What I’m trying to say is that before that moment, before that day when I thought I might lose my Dad, I didn’t know what was important. I had a vague idea of what I wanted. But I had no plans to actually act on it. But then when that moment came it all suddenly made sense. Do you know what I decided to do in the end?”
“To get a stellar job at Preston & Smith and a swanky new apartment?” I joke.
Dylan laughs but I can tell he wants me to be serious.
“No, something even more important than that.”
I want to say that he decided he wanted me, but I want to hear him say it first.
I want to hear the meaning in his voice.
I want to hear the words that I have romanticized about him saying for ten years.