Elena Undone

by Nicole Conn

  “Look Barry,” Elena said, “I know how much you want this—but do you think we’re trying too hard? Maybe…after Sar…you know…maybe this is just not meant to be.”

  He raised his voice ever so slightly. “Maybe we should pray together—really pray to God about bringing us our baby—”

  Elena pushed him away, her eyes angry as she looked into him, trying to understand what he was doing. Had he not heard a word of what she had just said? And then she felt it. Sensed Millie’s presence, glimpsed her watching them from the open door of the sanctuary, and she got it. How dare he perform at her expense. She pushed him aside and walked from the church, got into the car and drove away.

  *

  “Rarely do we get the opportunity to witness the art in love...but that is what we all desire...not just to be loved, but to be loved in that all-encompassing, Heathcliff on-the-moors one-true-love, soul mate way... And rarely are we prepared for it when it happens to come by.”

  Tyler Montague, stylish and striking in a dapper white suit, organza cravat, and several bejeweled accessories (the assumption could easily be made that he was gay), spoke with absolute conviction into his flip camera, performing with panache his sermon of love. He considered a moment, then turned his camera back on.

  “Perhaps you’ve been trying to inject meaning into your life, endlessly jamming your day planner full. Some of you are downright fortunate, and already understand what I’m telling you—perhaps you are one of those rare and fortunate few who find it very early in life. For others of you, your life might be at its most grim.” He wagged a finger. “Fear not. It will come. Soul mates find one another. And, while many kinds of soul mates exist, what we’re all really looking for is the Twin Flame. The ultimate love connection—”

  As if to confirm random and unlikely, Lily, a handsome, Armani-clad executive, entered Tyler’s studio cum Soulemetry store at that moment. Even though she looked completely out of place when she walked in, she owned the room, and strolled very deliberately to Tyler, took his head in her hands and planted a deeply soulful kiss upon his mouth.

  “Babe…I’m about to snap up that Internet company that’s been cut off at its knees.” Lily spoke with pride and relish. “Wish me luck.”

  “If they only knew what a pussycat you really are.” Tyler gazed at his wife with adoration. She nuzzled him endearingly, softly, then quickly put her game face back on—and went off to win.

  Tyler returned to his editing bay where he was narrating another of his many soul mate stories for his weekly Soulemetry webisode when Elena walked in.

  “He’s all yours.” Lily patted Elena’s arm as she walked out.

  Tyler jumped up dramatically. “Gorgeous! Wait till you hear this story—” but stopped as soon as he saw Elena’s forlorn expression.

  “Or maybe not. Let’s go, kitten. You need a drink.”

  Elena loved seeing Tyler’s face. He wasn’t only handsome, his face was endlessly pleasant with his square jaw, always perfect close-cropped hair, and his blue-gray eyes that radiated love, warmth and humor, and were constantly twinkling as if he had a joke he’d just recalled. No matter what was going on in her life at the moment, when she was with her dearest friend in the world she felt a loosening of all the barriers, as if all the roles she played in her life, wife, mother, pastor’s right-hand, church administrator—fell away, and she could simply be Elena.

  Tyler led Elena to his favorite part of his courtyard garden, what he referred to as his sanctuary—for his beloved religion— Soulemetry, which he had founded ten years ago.

  “Soulemetry,” Tyler had informed both her and Barry all those many years ago, “is a philosophy—a religion, if you will—based on the premise that there is a soul mate for everyone out there and it is my calling to help people find theirs. What’s more important than love, Elena?” he had asked her back then. “True love.”

  She had met Tyler right after she and Barry had started dating, fifteen years ago now. Tyler had also attended the Royal Academy on scholarship. He was extremely well known on campus, and had a universal reputation for excellence in academics and likeability. Everyone seemed to know him, and all who knew him loved him, or so it seemed to Elena. She had been thrilled to be cast in a supporting role in a contemporary play Tyler was directing. Within days she, along with everyone else, found Tyler to be a genius. He was easily the most talented student in their circles, a brilliant actor, phenomenal singer and the best director any of them had worked with. He had the fire, passion and desire to make it big.

  So it was almost devastating, to both Elena and Barry, when they met up with him several years later in Los Angeles after having relocated from New York to discover that Tyler had decided to give it all up.

  Tyler had moved west two years before Elena and Barry. Within months he had figured out a way onto the inside track of the LA entertainment machine, and had once again established himself seemingly overnight with a noteworthy amount of success in very little time.

  It was clear to Elena that Barry couldn’t help but begrudge Tyler his success, even though he tried to act as graciously as he could manage about Tyler’s good fortune. Barry’s career amounted to little more than one unrequited audition after another, while Elena worked part time and took care of Nash, hoping Barry would get a paying role. Scrimping and saving from the beginning, Elena Barning, Elearned the fine art of budgeting their household and living expenses within the constraints of very little. She took her joy in Nash and tried to stay as positive as she could with Barry about his career. Even after Tyler gave Barry all his contacts, Barry couldn’t seem to hit his stride. Tyler was just the opposite. It was effortless for him. Roles, offers— everything an entertainer aspired to simply fell in his lap.

  So when Tyler sat them down over one long dinner and several bottles of wine to explain that he had had an “epiphany” and that this “entertainment stuff simply didn’t fulfill him,” that it didn’t speak to him in any way, and that he could no longer make his life’s work be about all this “utterly ridiculous, overwrought, take-one’s-self-with-waay-too-much-seriousness BS…” they couldn’t help but be stunned.

  “But what will you do?” Elena had asked.

  “Yeah,” Barry added, although Elena had noticed a marked sharpness to his tone. “How in the hell you going to put food on the table, Ty?”

  “Soulemetry.” Tyler had answered simply but with complete conviction. “The religion of love.”

  They were both taken aback.

  Within weeks, Tyler had begun the practice of his Soulemetry religion in the basement of his house and ten years later he had a client list that rivaled any studio head’s Rolodex along with the most beautifully crafted and serene setting for his Soul-Blim-In-Nation Store; the interior of which was covered in every conceivable soul mate artifact from ancient runes and intricately carved statues to emblems Tyler had created. The exterior was every bit as idyllic, filled with roses—the rose being “the flower of love”—of every breed, strain and variety, along with marble pillars, ornately tiled trellises and billowy fabrics, all artfully chosen to create a sense of harmony, peace and serenity, for Tyler was fond of reminding everyone, “It was only when the heart stilled itself that it could prepare to allow love in.”

  It was equally striking that Tyler, whom everyone believed to be gay, came back from Paris—the city of love—on one of his many “love treks” with the extremely tough and fully unexpected love of his life: Lily Aubergine. The tall, slender, endlessly elegant Lily was of French descent but with a very American if not heavily arched north Maine accent. She was as cold as Tyler was warm, as competitive as Tyler was generous. While Tyler’s eyes beamed warmth, hers seared with an intensity born of the need to win.

  Equally baffling for both Elena and Barry was that Lily did not want children. Tyler’s only other obsession in life was to have a child. Since Nash’s birth it had been the one other constant that Tyler had spoken about, until Lily informed them all at Nash’s t
wo-year birthday celebration that she planned to consider Nash the son she’d never have. It had been well after all the other guests had left, Nash had been tucked into bed, and the four of them were finishing champagne that Lily informed Tyler, as if presenting a board report: “I have no intention of ever ruining my figure with childbearing. Besides I have no time for squalling infants. I deal with them all day long at the office.”

  color="black">Barry and Elena left that night terrified Lily would “claw out his heart,” as Barry put it, but whatever was in their union, it brought out the best of them both. Sure she was as tough as a street boxer when negotiating contracts, but whenever she was around Tyler she softened to the point that she appeared to be an altogether different person. And Lily brought out of Tyler an insanely “unquenchable love” as he described it—“My need to be with Lily supersedes anything I’ve ever known. Go figure.”

  Elena never could fully believe in Tyler’s Soulemetry. As Barry put it, it was a bit too “out there love-child hippy dippy.” And had it been anyone but her dearest friend, she probably would have thought it was just so much hooey. But she found herself always mystified by the transformation in her when she sat within Tyler’s sanctuary. Her feeling of exaltation probably rivaled what most people would refer to as a religious experience, and she certainly felt more spiritual in the Soulemetry Gardens than she did in Barry’s church.

  That always held almost too much irony for her, but she had long since given up trying to figure out what precisely it was, or why it was. Perhaps she would never understand it. But like Tyler, she accepted these warm and very inviting feelings as a gift and accepted Tyler and his trappings at face value. It was utterly mystifying to her that the two most important men in her life were both preachers of a kind, but at such opposite ends of the holy spectrum.

  “Beautiful woman,” Tyler said, taking her hand, “I am so sorry.”

  She glanced up at him, trying not to cry.

  “I know how painful this is for you.”

  “Tyler, you know—I just feel like…I feel like...” Elena blew her nose. “I’ve got to be doing something wrong—”

  “Now stop that!” Tyler shook his head, furious. “This isn’t your fault.”

  He stopped, breathed in deeply, exhaled. “I think I may have said this a time or two before—but, maybe—just maybe—it’s a sign.”

  Elena smiled ruefully. “Well, that is the reason we’ve decided to pursue adopting. But don’t worry, Tyler. We’ll keep trying.”

  He looked at her, smiled wistfully, then shook his head. “Please, don’t think you have to.”

  “But, of course we will. Just...you know, just in case,” she said, her tone resigned, “whatever it takes.”

  “Well, you know, my love, I’m always at your disposal.” Tyler smiled sweetly, then leaned in to give her a gentle hug. When they parted she could see he was getting emotional. “Look, I want what’s best for you, my exquisite angel.”

  “Thank you.”

  They sat in silence for a moment, both reflecting on their own wishes for the future, until Tyler snapped, Iyler sn them both out of it.

  “I know better than anyone, yes?” He looked deeply into her eyes. “Everything you’ve been through...My Lord, between your unforgiving parents and Barry’s crusades du jour—”

  Elena shot Tyler a sharp look. He put up his hands— “Okay— won’t go there.

  “I swear to God, though, Elena, it’s a testament to your strength—or complete insanity! Either way—”

  “Tyler, please. Besides, Nash needs—”

  “Nash is fifteen, he’s going to be fine. Barry’s got what he’s always needed out of the church—utter adulation. So what I want to know is: what’s in it for you?”

  He winked at her. Elena smiled.

  “Come on...give me your hand.” She resisted at first, but he gently took one of Elena’s hands, held it for a long moment. He closed his eyes, began to tune in, but before he had completely connected with his “committee” as he referred to his communing spirits, he stated, “I’ve told you a thousand times if I’ve told you once, he is NOT your Twin Flame with his silly little congregation—”

  Tyler stopped quite suddenly. Eyes still closed, he traced a finger over her palm, then bolted upright. “Well, I’ll be...this adoption thing may be the ticket...someone’s definitely coming into your life.” He shook his head again in wonderment, opened his eyes and pegged her own. “In a big way.”

  Elena nabbed her hand back and responded wryly, “Yes. A...a baby! Oh, Tyler, I love that you do all this—you know that I do...but I’m just not sure I—”

  “Oh, but there’s no denying what I see here. Your destiny is going to happen whether you like it or not, sugar plum. Even you, Elena the Intractable, are no match for your own fate.”

  *

  Elena had walked through the park for some time, finally releasing all the pent up emotion, all the anger at Millie, Barry—all of it. It had done her a world of good to see Tyler. It always did. But after she had left him, the last thing she wanted to do was go back to the house. She didn’t want to see Barry. Nor did she care to go back to the church, even if she had a pile of paperwork waiting for her there. She was sick of it. Sick of it all.

  She really needed to tell Barry she needed to be done with it. She hated the desperate machination of the fertility cycles, having to have sex when she was ovulating, racing against her clock, hoping that Barry’s low sperm count would somehow be overcome by taking drugs, shots. And then there was Tyler. As he said, this had to be what was best for her. And every time she had her period she felt overcome with grief. It was simply too much to endure after…after everything they had been through. After already losing so much. She couldn’t bear to think about it another moment. She couldn’t put hersew bt put lf through this any longer.

  Now she simply breathed in the beauty of the park. How she loved this place. Thank God she had found it several years ago and had been coming here ever since. It was the only place she could hear her own mind think, feel what she was feeling without having to confront a need, a question, a must-have, a constant picking at her for everything. Why couldn’t they all grow up and simply take care of themselves—at least a few moments a day?

  *

  She sat, took a deep breath, and allowed her breathing to calm. A beautiful sunset was on its way. A peach tint laced the edges of indigo blue. Another day finally passing, gave Peyton goose bumps. It was so beautiful. So healing and peaceful.

  She glanced down at her palm, and looked again, for the hundredth time at the item her mother had handed her the night she passed away. She still didn’t understand what it was supposed to mean.

  Staring back at her was an extraordinarily ornate ring in a setting of gold with a large light blue sapphire glistening in the setting sun. She had never seen it, had never heard her mother even speak about it. She knew every single item of her mother’s jewelry because Carolyn loved to talk about the value in things and had taught Peyton that lesson early in life—“My dear, the only manner in which to judge anything successfully is to apply some sort of value to it.” Having value was an essential for Peyton’s mother, and try as Peyton might to resist this equation, it had been imprinted in her mind.

  Suddenly she realized she wasn’t alone in this section of the park. She could barely make out the russet color of the sweater, but someone was sitting at her other favorite bench.

  *

  Did she hear something? What was it? Elena didn’t know why, but felt compelled to turn. It almost frightened her at first, but then she realized it was a person sitting on her other favorite bench. A woman in a dark coat was sitting there. She wondered what had brought her here to this park, this very moment. If it was another lone person come here to escape her life.

  Peyton could barely make out the features of the woman. Ethnic, somehow. Middle Eastern? Indian? Whatever nationality, Peyton could read pain, frustration, a perturbation with the world. Where ha
d she seen her…something familiar. Could the woman see that Peyton was looking at her? Peyton realized she had been studying her for some time.

  As if answering, the woman’s head moved slightly in acknowledgment.

  Elena looked into the woman’s eyes as much as she was able to in the quickly growing dusk.

  Their gaze held for an awkwardly long moment. Elena felt somehow as if time had stopped. Peyton herself felt as if she were on a different level of consciousness. Shook her head and thought she really needed to get more rh ao get mest.

  Did she even know she was looking at her, Elena wondered.

  Peyton wasn’t sure the woman was looking at her or beyond her, but she suddenly felt very uncomfortable. She got up and prepared to leave. She began to walk the opposite direction, but for some reason she had to look back at that woman again. Something about her.

  Peyton turned. The last of the sun flared into her eyes.

  Elena stood up and watched the woman turn her direction, but she put her hand up to her eyes and Elena could not make out anything else in her face.

  Peyton shielded her eyes. Apparently the woman had already gone.

  Peyton turned and walked away.

  Elena watched the woman’s retreating figure until she could no longer see her.

  “We spent our entire lives working in the same company.”

  Edith, a spry eighty-five-year-old, sits next to her husband, Milton, eighty-nine. “Passing one another every day for thirty-seven years. Never said a word to each other. He’d just nod and smile. Always so pleasant...”

  “Then I had a heart attack.” Milton’s hand shakes as he takes Edith’s in his. “Thought, I don’t have much more time to let things pass me by. I’m not going to waste another minute.”

  “When he came back to work he walks right up to me and says ‘I’m not willing to waste another minute. I’m no Fred Astaire, but I’d like to take you dancing.’”