The Second Wave

by Jean Copeland

  “Do you really need to ask?”

  “Because of the party? Look, I know it was awkward but—”

  “It’s more than that, Leslie.”

  “Is it Vic? Do you really like him?”

  “Leslie, I love you, I desire you.”

  “Then why are you going out with him?”

  “For one thing, you said I should so people, like Bill in particular, won’t get suspicious. Remember?”

  “Are you going to sleep with him?”

  “I just met him. Why would I sleep with him? And so what if I did? You sleep with Bill.”

  “I have to,” Leslie shrieked in protest.

  “Let’s get one thing straight, Leslie. This is a free country. No one has to do anything.”

  “I just can’t stop having sex with my husband, not unless I want to end my marriage.”

  “So you’ll be free to be with me, the one you supposedly truly love? No, of course you wouldn’t want to do that.”

  “I wish it was as simple as you think it is.”

  “What exactly do you think is so simple for me? Missing you desperately? Being in love with someone I’ll never have, someone who has sex with someone else? Yeah, it’s a real piece of cake.”

  “You knew I was married when we started this.”

  “And you knew I’m single, so I’ll screw anyone I want without running it by you first.”

  Leslie shrank like an abandoned puppy. “Why are you acting like this?”

  “It’s over, Leslie. We made a mistake. We never should have let it get this far.”

  “That’s obvious, Alice, but it did get this far, and now I don’t know how to get out of it without completely falling apart.”

  Alice sighed, barely holding her own broken pieces together. “We can’t see each other anymore, not even as friends.”

  Leslie’s eyes filled with tears as the doorbell chimed.

  “That’s him,” Alice said. “You have to go.” She extended her hands to assess how badly they were shaking.

  “Can’t we talk about this before you make any drastic decisions? Call me tomorrow,” Leslie said. “Promise you’ll call me tomorrow.”

  “Les, you’ve wanted to end this, too. Why are you fighting it now? Because it’s me breaking it off, not you?”

  “No, Alice. I know we can’t go on like this, but we owe it to each other to talk this out calmly, not when you’re about to go out on a date.”

  “What’s the point? Unless you’re going to leave Bill, there’s nothing else to say. Now you have to go.”

  “Alice, please,” Leslie said, blocking her passage to the door.

  The doorbell rang again.

  Startled by Leslie’s vehemence, Alice acquiesced. “Okay, I’ll call you. Now pull yourself together. I can’t keep him waiting any longer.”

  When Alice opened the door, Vic presented her with a bouquet of flowers and an innocent smile. “Hey, Leslie,” he said when she moved around Alice toward the door.

  “Hi, Vic,” she said quietly. “Have a great time.”

  “Thanks.” He watched her walk away and then looked at Alice. “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important.”

  “No, no, just girl talk. Thanks for the flowers. Pour yourself a drink while I put them in a vase.”

  She indicated the cocktail cart so he wouldn’t follow her into the kitchen. She let the running water overflow the vase as tears streamed down her cheeks. How was she supposed to enjoy a fancy dinner with Vic when she felt like leaning over and barfing her guts out in the sink? She watched the small, dead rose leaves circle the drain as she tried to force Leslie from her mind.

  “Can I give you a hand in there?” Vic asked from the living room.

  “No, thanks. Be right out.” She rubbed the black tear streaks from her cheeks with a dishtowel.

  As they walked to the door, he placed his hand lightly on her back and led her out the door like a gentleman.

  “I think this is going to be a groovy night,” he said.

  *

  The next morning Alice had waked wondering if the night before had been the kind of dream you have after a particularly wild acid trip. After getting drunk at the Japanese restaurant and cackling several times and then napping through the symphony, she hadn’t expected to hear from Vic again. She’d considered sending a thank-you note to the waiter who kept bringing her sake, thus saving her the unpleasantness of the “I don’t think this is going anywhere” conversation when Vic requested a second date.

  Her hangover had abated in time for a Saturday evening out with her cousin Phyllis, a fortune Phyllis might not have found so fortunate. Alice pouted as she dragged the same long French fry through a blob of ketchup in her plate.

  “Would you please stop moping?” Phyllis said, dropping her grilled cheese onto her plate. “I want to feel sorry for you, but it’s hard to when someone jumps into a raging inferno and is surprised when their ass catches fire.”

  “I don’t expect sympathy,” Alice said. “I’m well acquainted with the error of my ways. But you don’t have to berate me for feeling sad. I can’t help it. Haven’t you ever been in love before?”

  “Yes, I’ve been in love. Frankly, it was more trouble than it was worth. But in your case there are mitigating circumstances.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I mean you didn’t know you’re a lesbian, so how could you have possibly predicted that you and Leslie were on a collision course toward an illicit, tawdry affair?”

  “Exactly,” Alice repeated excitedly and then dropped her greasy fry onto her plate. “Wait a darn minute there. It wasn’t tawdry. It was beautiful, poetic, tragic. And let’s not jump the gun with the lesbian thing. I’m dating a handsome plumber named Vic,” she lied.

  Phyllis shook her head. “There’s another fire you’ve set for yourself.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why are you dating him?”

  “He’s nice and very handsome.”

  “Sounds like an ideal diversion.”

  “Maybe that’s just what I need right now. I miss Leslie so much. These past few weeks have been torture. I reach for the phone at least three times a day.”

  “I’m proud of you for showing such remarkable restraint. It’ll get easier in time. In the meantime, do you think it’s wise to string this poor man along?”

  “You know, dear cousin, it would be nice if, once in a while, instead of being the voice of reason, you’d support me in my quest to do the wrong thing that will eventually end badly for everyone involved.”

  Phyllis smiled. “I can’t do that, dear cousin. Besides, you seem to do well enough in that department without my support.”

  Alice pushed her plate away and sat back in the booth.

  “Here’s a radical idea,” Phyllis said. “Why don’t you find another woman? A single one.”

  “I don’t want another woman. I want Leslie.”

  “Okay, fine.” Phyllis blotted the corners of her mouth with her napkin. “You let me know how that works out for you.” She signaled for the waitress.

  Alice considered the suggestion. Another woman was out of the question. Another woman could never measure up to Leslie—her smile, her high-pitched laugh that tickled everyone around her, those lips, that buttery smooth skin. She’d destroy another woman with comparisons. She could be with Vic. She knew how to be with men, even if she could never love one the way she loved Leslie.

  “Vic is a nice guy.” Alice handed Phyllis cash for the bill and wondered if she hadn’t written him off a little too soon.

  “Yes, so you’ve said.”

  “I think I can make it work with him,” Alice said, nodding. “It’s certainly worth a try.”

  “I have a strange feeling dinners with you are going to start being painful for me.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Alice, I’m seriously beginning to worry you’re losing your grasp on reality. Deal with your feelings for Leslie befo
re you dive into something else, especially with a man. I think you need to admit to yourself that that train’s left the station for good.”

  “Phyllis, please stop trying to make me a homosexual. Can’t you see I have enough on my plate here? Trying to forget Leslie is already more than I can handle.”

  Phyllis rolled her eyes. “Okay, I promise to stop making you a homosexual if you promise to start including your brain when making important decisions.”

  “I think I’ve proved I’m quite capable of that these past few weeks. Do you know how easy it would be for me to call Leslie and concoct an excuse to get together with her?”

  “That reminds me of a quote. Proust, I think it was, said, ‘So few are the easy victories as the ultimate failures.’”

  Alice smirked at her. “Save your brainy literary quotes for someone who needs them. I’ve got everything under control.”

  They left the bistro and began walking up Chapel Street.

  “See, that’s where you lose me, Al. You’ve got nothing under control, and if I may extend my inferno metaphor, sleeping with a married woman is playing with fire. How much longer do you think she can get away with it before he catches on?”

  “We’re very careful,” was Alice’s mousy reply.

  “That’s reassuring,” Phyllis drawled. “After he comes home, finds you in bed with his wife, and shoots you in the head, I’ll be sure to put ‘they were very careful’ on your headstone.”

  “We don’t do anything at her house. We don’t do anything at all anymore. I’ve ended the affair.”

  “Ah, yes, hence the tragic mood. Well, you ought to really enjoy this play tonight.”

  “What are we seeing?”

  They stopped on the sidewalk near the Yale Repertory Theatre, and Phyllis pointed to the marquee.

  “Othello,” Alice said. “Marvelous.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  As Alice walked down the hall of the rehab center toward Leslie’s room, her heart fluttered with the same raw anticipation it used to on her way to pick her up on crochet night. She switched the mixed bouquet of flowers from one hand to the other, shaking her nerves out through her free fingers as she rounded the corner. Rebecca and Leslie were sitting at a small table having coffee and crumb cake as Jake navigated a Star Wars spaceship around the room.

  “Hey, kids,” Alice said, peeking into the room. Something was different as she walked in.

  “Hi, Alice.” Rebecca jumped up and hugged her. “Mom, aren’t you going to say hi to Alice?”

  With the support of the chair’s arms, Leslie lifted herself, gripped the rolling walker by the table, and shuffled toward Alice. “Hey, Betty.”

  The wheelchair was gone. Alice’s eyes watered as she gently wrapped her arms around Leslie. “When did this happen?”

  “Yesterday,” Leslie said. “I couldn’t wait to show you.”

  Alice glanced at Rebecca, who eyed her knowingly.

  “I’m so happy for you,” Alice said. “Perfect timing, too. Cynthia and Kathy want a reunion of the old crochet klatch, and we can’t have it without you.”

  “I’ll be thrilled to join you,” Leslie said and headed back to her chair.

  “Mom, Jake and I have to get going. Billy’s coming tomorrow after work, but call me if you need anything.”

  “Thanks, baby,” Leslie said, cupping Rebecca’s face when she bent to kiss her.

  “Gram, wanna see what this can do?” Jake flew his spacecraft over to her.

  “Let me see, Jakie.” Leslie put her arms around his waist as he dazzled her with its flashing lights and screeches.

  “Come here for a second?” Rebecca whispered, and they stepped outside the room.

  “What’s up?” Alice asked, eyeing Leslie from the hall.

  “I know you’ve said there was nothing more than friendship between you and Mom, but all I know is I haven’t seen her this pumped about anything since Jake was born.”

  “Well, sure, she’s pumped. She’s walking again after she thought she was paralyzed.”

  “Alice, that’s not why.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re suggesting.”

  Rebecca studied her for a moment. “All right. I’ll humor you if you really want me to, but the chemistry between you and my mother is so obvious. It’s like when she woke from her coma, she was reborn, and I know it wasn’t from some white-light experience.”

  Alice admired the pastel floral wallpaper to hide the blush of a schoolgirl learning her crush liked her back.

  “Alice,” Rebecca said gently. “What do you still have to hide?”

  “I don’t have anything to hide, honey, really,” Alice said. “My wife died a year ago, and I’m here as a friend to support your mother as she recovers. That’s what she needs to focus on right now.”

  Rebecca smiled with understanding. “I’m sorry, Alice. My romantic imagination seems to have ridden off the rails. I didn’t mean to disrespect your grieving process.”

  “You didn’t,” Alice said. “I was an active participant in every phase of my grief, believe me. This visit to Connecticut has been a welcome respite, just what the doctor ordered.”

  “It’s nice that you could both be there for each other again. I hope when you go home, you’ll stay in touch.”

  “I won’t make the same mistake twice.”

  “Anyway, I should be focusing on my own disaster of a marriage instead of pressuring you about dating my mother.”

  “How are things going with Sage?”

  “She’s coming back home, and we’re going to give couples’ therapy a try.”

  “That’s a positive step. I’m rooting for you.”

  Rebecca hugged Alice. “Thanks.” She stuck her head in the room. “Come on, Jake. Let’s get going.”

  Alice walked back into the room and sat at the table with Leslie. “You want to put on some sensible shoes and take a walk outside?”

  “No, thank you,” Leslie said. “I was outside earlier with Rebecca and Jake, and I’m kind of wiped out from today’s therapy.”

  “Would you like me to go and let you get some rest?”

  “You just got here.” Leslie’s mouth drooped like a kid whose recess had just been cancelled. “I’ve been hoping you’d come by.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t make it yesterday. I figured I’d give you a break. Or give your family a chance to visit with you.”

  “They have plenty of time to visit me. But please don’t feel obligated to come, Alice.” Suddenly, a mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. “Just because I gush over how much I enjoy your visits.”

  “I enjoy them, too, more than you know.”

  Their eyes locked for an uncomfortable moment, conveying more than they had since Leslie regained consciousness.

  “Will you still want to visit when I get out of here? I mean until you go home.”

  The phrase go home was a tricky one. This week Alice had felt more at home in Leslie’s presence than she had in the entire year since Maureen passed.

  “I can’t wait till you walk out of here, and yes, I’ll come to see you.” Alice looked over her shoulder out into the hall. “Say, does Bill come around?”

  “He showed up at the hospital a couple of times, but after he knew I wasn’t going to die he hasn’t bothered.”

  “Does that disappoint you?”

  “Not at all. We’re friendly, but we’ve had our own lives for a long time.”

  “It seems strange to be with you and not have the specter of your husband hanging over us. I think for me, it’s still there.”

  “I’m sorry it was so difficult back then, Alice. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to apologize adequately for what you went through.”

  “You have nothing to apologize for. We were both adults. I can’t fault you for doing what you believed was best for you and your kids.”

  “It was such a confusing time.”

  “I’ll say. It sure changed me.”

  Leslie clutch
ed the bouquet of flowers, burying her nose in it as she gazed out the window.

  “Did you ever date another woman after me?”

  “I thought about it.” Leslie turned back to the table. “But it took me so long to get over you that…I don’t know. By the time I did, I was so used to being on my own that I never bothered pursuing it.”

  “I’m sorry, too.” Alice closed her eyes and for a moment stopped battling her heart against the rush of abandon it wanted to feel. “Over the years I sometimes wished we’d never met just so you wouldn’t have had to endure such a painful struggle.”

  Leslie smiled. “Do you want to know something strange?”

  “I’d love to,” Alice said with a flirtatious lilt.

  “Of all the things I’ve wished for in the last thirty years, that was never one of them.”

  “How could that be? What we had almost destroyed us both.”

  “And it reshaped me into the kind of woman we talked about and admired in our feminist meetings, the woman I never felt I was capable of being.”

  “I keep thinking about that time we met for lunch in Boston when you told me you were going to divorce Bill. I didn’t believe you’d go through with it.”

  “You were with Maureen then.”

  “I can’t help but wonder what would’ve transpired if I had believed you. If only you’d called me a year earlier…”

  “Alice, if I didn’t have kids, I never would’ve let you go in the first place. God, I was so in love with you. But I’d made a commitment to keep my family stable until my children were on their own. I raised two caring, reasonably well-adjusted human beings who love and respect me unconditionally. I don’t bother with regrets.”

  Alice smiled with pride. “You’ve come a long way, Bella.”

  Leslie squeezed Alice’s hand and stifled a yawn. “Sometime you’ll have to tell me about Maureen.”

  “I’d like that,” Alice said, standing. “But right now I’m going to let you get comfortable and relax. You look exhausted.”

  “Don’t go,” Leslie said, surprising them both with her eagerness. “I mean if you have somewhere to go, of course, but if not, it’s still early.”

  Alice sat down again. “It is nice not having to rush off by a certain time.”