Yet, here it was, February of 1993 in Life II. And they were only beginning to talk about it. That meant his encouragement and interference had prolonged their marriage by four years. He nodded at that accomplishment, put the pen back to the page, and wrote further:
And more bad news. My friend, Garfield, is going to file for bankruptcy. Apparently the dude’s been gambling a lot, and lost all of his money. I’m pretty sure Garfield has an addiction. I’ve been thinking about ways to get him the help he needs. Garfield always came to my rescue, when I needed him. Still, it isn’t easy—
Max stopped. He thought of adding more, but he didn’t want to pour his whole heart out to Abby—not yet, anyway. His eyes crawled all over the walls, trying to think of what to say next. Then he sighed, and forced himself to finish off his letter to Abby.
Keep your letters coming, he wrote. I always enjoy them. Sorry I haven’t written for a while. Love—
Max stopped. He looked at the word on the page a moment, squirmed, shrugged, then crossed out the word Love, and quickly changed it to:
Sincerely,
Max.
He sealed the letter then, and took it out for the mailman. When Abby read it, Max was confident she’d understand the torture he felt in acknowledging that she’d gotten under his skin.
Which, of course, she had.
Chapter Thirty-Four
March 5, 1994 at 1:07 p.m.
By the time winter of the next year had rolled around, Max had struggled to push Abby out of his thoughts. For a year, his feelings about her had run hot and cold—some days he felt a mad, convulsive love for her, and others he felt the wildly unbearable hurt and pain of their last hellish years in Life I. When the last days of winter finally appeared, Max decided he needed a break from it. So he trekked off to Banff, Alberta, to escape the pressure cooker of playing second banana to whatever boyfriend Abby was currently seeing, and the bludgeoning stress of medical school.
He was enjoying the freedom of skiing, plopped with a steaming hot chocolate on a quad chairlift and blithely ignoring the chatter of the three women seated beside him, when one of them spoke up.
“Isn’t it a beautiful day?”
He turned to see the tanned face of a young woman. Her face was covered with a winter hat and red wool scarf, but he knew she was smiling at him.
“Pamela,” she sighed. “My name is Pamela.”
Max was taken aback. “Yeah—uh, I guess it is a beautiful day.”
“Good skiing weather.”
“Yup,” Max said, then clumsily added: “Good powder conditions today.”
“So where are you from?”
“Calgary.”
“Oh!” Pamela jumped a little and Max could feel the chairlift move in response, “I live right outside Calgary!”
The woman next to Pamela harrumphed. “We’re not from outside Calgary, Pamela. We live in Red Deer!”
“Danielle, you know I was talking about moving to Calgary,” Pamela said, and shrugged as her friend rolled her eyes. Pamela peered up from underneath her winter hat at Max again. “What kind of work do you do?”
“I’m in med school at the University of Calgary.”
Pamela’s eyes widened. “Impressive. I’m a fitness trainer.”
Max let his eyes dance over her. “You must be really fit then, to go skiing.”
“Thanks,” Pamela glowed. The chairlift arrived, and they were all now ready to disembark. “Well, it was nice meeting you. Maybe we’ll meet again at the bottom of the mountain.”
She shot him a coy smile. Then she waved, and pushed off.
Max stared at her with affection, watching the snow twinkle around her in the March sunshine. “Enjoy your run,” he said and waved.
Oh my god, was she hitting on me? Max wondered. As he watched Pamela disappear down the slope he gave her a speculative glance. He’d chatted with dozens of other strangers every time he went skiing, and thought nothing of it. He couldn’t help feeling though that this young woman he saw right now, sugared with snow, was somehow different.
An hour later, after several more runs and a short break in a café, he noticed Pamela at the bottom of the hill. She was frowning, looking out at the line-up for the main chairlift. She spotted Max and broke into a wide smile.
“Hey!” she said.
“Hi!” Max responded. His eyes were drawn to lack of anybody around her. “Where are your friends?”
“Taking a break. Wanna go skiing with me?”
Max gulped. “Sure,” he said. Grabbing his poles they both hopped on the chairlift.
“Ah,” Pamela said as she sat down close to him, almost snuggling up. “It’s nice skiing with a man for a change.” She eyed Max closely. “You never told me your name.”
“It’s Max.” Max cleared his throat, feeling her hand clasp on his leg suddenly, and feeling awkward. “So, uh…What’s your level? Beginning, intermediate, or expert?”
Pamela thought for a moment, and then chuckled. “Oh, in skiing, you mean!” she laughed. “I’m what you call an advanced beginner.”
“That makes sense.”
“What run do you want to do?”
Max thought hard. “That one.” He pointed.
“Okay,” Pamela agreed. They disembarked from the chairlift, and skied together. At the bottom of the hill, Pamela caught her breath and said, “I have to go and find my friends. But Max, can you do me a favor?”
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Give me your phone number.” She fumbled for a piece of paper and a pen in her jacket.
“Sure.”
As Max wrote it out, she said, “I think it’s only fair. Men take a girl’s phone number, but they never call. I’m not one to sit and wait for the phone to ring.”
Max handed his number over and flashed a smile. “So, will you call me?”
“We’ll see,” she said with her own impish grin. “Well, have fun out there,” she called out.
And in the blink of an eye, she was gone.
Chapter Thirty-Five
March 8, 1994 at 9:10 p.m.
Three days later she called. Max had been torturing himself every day since they first met, and had a strong urge to call Pamela himself. He sensed a new freshness in his life, a new bounce in his step, and fumbled comically when the phone rang, and he heard her soft voice on the other end.
“I wanted to know if you’d be interested in seeing the gym where I work,” she said. “I don’t know if you’re interested in weight training, but I’d love to see you. And I can show you around Red Deer. How does that sound?”
They made a plan for Saturday the 12th. For four more days, Max fell into a deep sleep all afternoon and night on the blankletless couch, and awoke sweaty each morning from dreams of her. His forehead and cheeks felt hot, and his breathing was fast and labored. He got up, grabbed a cold washcloth, and scrubbed his face.The bathroom was silent except for the beating of his own heart, which Max was sure would explode through his temples.
He dressed quickly and drove out to Red Deer. At eleven in the morning he pulled over near a snow bank on a main road. His mind was refreshed by the acres of snow. He reflected on how he had lived Life I, and how he’d never really been exposed to snow constantly around him, blowing in his face, flying in the wind, making a pleasant crunching sound beneath his boots, and shining light back into his eyes so intensely that he had to squint. That, he decided, was exactly in tune with why he chose to live Life II. Out with the old, in with the new. It wasn’t always easy to escape the past, that’s for sure, but Max was running full speed ahead as hard as he could. It exhausted him, but he figured the fatigue was temporary.
After locking his car, he headed toward the neon Total Fitness sign on the street’s biggest building.
At first he couldn’t see the fitness facilities, but was able to figure out that the club was below street level. He found the wide, well-lit stairs leading down to the gym. His heartbeat quickened as he realized he was coming c
loser and closer to his next step in Life II.
The gym was large and teeming with rows of machines, fitness equipment, and floor mats. It was a hive of activity, with the loud clinking of weights and the thumping of music that was probably chosen to energize the members. The smell of sweat hung heavy in the air.
Max’s eyes scanned the bodies working out. He’d nearly completed a three-quarters view of the gym before he spotted her.
She walked at a tangent away from him, between fitness machines. She was wearing a tight halter-top, emblazoned with the logo Total Fitness, exposing a well-toned midriff. Her thighs were wrapped snug in spandex shorts that ended halfway to her knees. Max lowered his line of vision to take in her breasts as they jiggled. His breath hitched in excitement and he was very glad he’d come.
Finally Max walked up behind her, and yelled out over the blasting music: “Pamela!”
She spun around and broke into a smile. “Max!” She gave him a quick hug, pressing her chest into his. “So glad you could come. Let me show you around.”
She took him on a quick tour—less than five minutes to show off all of the gleaming machines—and then said, “Go get changed.”
He joked at her, “Are you sure you can’t come in with me?”
She blushed and shooed him along. “Go get changed.”
After Max emerged wearing gym clothes, Pamela said, “Okay, first of all, some warm-up stretches.” She stretched out on her back on a mat and pulled her thighs up toward her chest. Max enjoyed the sight of watching her body move up and down and jiggle in front of him.
“Now you try it,” she said. That’s fair, Max thought. I get to watch her, she gets to watch me.
After a series of stretching exercises, Pamela led Max to the machines. “This is a leg curl machine. Good for strengthening your calf muscles.”
“I studied anatomy.” Max grinned.
“Oh that’s right, you’re a big shot medical student. When do you get to become a doctor?”
“Two more years.”
“Is it hard?”
“Very.”
She nodded. “I’ll set the weight for you.”
Next was the tricep extension machine. After working out for a few minutes, Max breathed out, with a twinkle in his eye. “Can I ask you something?”
“Sure. I’m a very open person.”
“Do guys here try to pick you up?”
“Yeah, sometimes,” she said with a shrug. “There are some guys who always try to sweet talk me, but to tell you the truth, I’m not interested in them.”
Max’s hopes rose quickly. He saw an expression of startlement cross Pamela’s face. Dude, she knows what you’re thinking! Max laughed nervously. She was quite obviously a girl accustomed to speaking with strange men, and reading the barometer of their intentions. But the look in her eyes was frighteningly serious—when she batted her eyes at Max, they sparkled like black diamonds.
An hour later, Max was sweating madly. “What do you do after a work-out?” he asked.
“Grab a huge slice of pizza, or a hamburger, with fries, and pig out.”
“It sure doesn’t show.”
Pamela pushed him away playfully. “You’re just saying that to be nice.”
“No, Pamela. Really. You’re in amazing shape.”
She put a finger to her lips. “Shoo. Now go take your shower.” She leaned beside him against the wall near the door to the men’s locker room.
Max could feel it. The moment. It had come. And now that it was here, he couldn’t resist. As sweaty as he was, he advanced closer to her. He could feel the heat of her, rising up from her damp halter-top. She gazed up at him, almost as if expecting his move. He then knew. She wants me.
Max tilted his head toward hers so that they almost touched. The intimacy of their bodies was almost as much of a thrill as was the anticipation of what might happen next. He slipped his hands into hers. She clapsed it. She didn’t resist.
“Come closer,” she whispered, arching her head up and closing her eyes.
With that command, Max released his inhibitions. He snaked his hand around to the small of her back and pulled her closer. He devoured her lips, hungry to feed the passion she stirred in him. She pulled herself closer against his chest, moaning with desire.
Finally, she held up one hand on his chest. “Stop it, Max. I can’t kiss around here.”
“Right, sorry,” Max said, fumbling to regain his balance, not to mention his sense of propriety.
“Go take a shower,” she whispered. “I’d love to be there with you.”
“Me, too,” Max mumbled. He quickly jerked back to reality. “Uh…Wait for me?”
Pamela laughed. “I work here.”
Max groaned as he went into the locker room. He had to cool off, literally and physically.
Emerging from the locker room in his street clothes, Max looked around for Pamela. She unexpectedly grabbed him from behind. “Come on, it’s my lunch time,” she murmured, and led him over to a small bar at the end of the gym. She grabbed a stool, sat on it, and pulled out another stool for Max.
Max pushed himself up onto the stool. The seats were quite high. Pamela frowned, and looked over Max’s shoulder around the gym. Max opened up the topic, “Now…About that kiss…”
Pamela beamed. “Delicious! I hope there’s more where that came from.”
Max slipped his hand across her back. He moved it up and massaged her neck. She gasped at his touch.
“Uh, Max, don’t get this wrong, but I’m a very open person. I’m going to ask you some questions because I like to get right to the point and not waste time.”
“Like taking my phone number.”
“Exactly! Now, what do you look for in a serious relationship?”
Max simply answered, “Love.”
“Good answer. Okay, number two, do you like children? Do you want to have them someday?”
“I love children. And yes, please.”
Pamela’s eyes sparkled. She gestured with her hands, as if to emphasize her thought process. “Do you really love having children around? Do you have any kids in your family or with your friends that you just pick up and give a hug?”
Max thought of Angela and Brandon. His eyes misted over, which hadn’t happened in a long time. He thought of Christmas mornings, and the kids diving under the Christmas tree to open their presents. He remembered a catcher’s mitt Brandon had unwrapped, his eyes in a fever, and Angela lugging around a gigantic boxfull of LEGOs. He felt a swelling in his heart as out rolled a gleaming 10-speed bicycle, which Max had assembled at midnight on Christmas Eve with the stealth of a master criminal.
The memories kept coming. And coming.
“Max?”
“Uh,” Max fumbled, trying to regain his composure. “Uh, yeah. I, uh, do have a lot of experience. With kids, I mean. I have—” He stopped. Max, don’t do it, don’t go there. For a moment he stared at Pamela, dumbly, replaying the last moments he’d spent with his children again and again in his mind. Don’t let yourself get out of control, Max. Stay here, in Life II. But thinking of his kids just sent a spike of pain deep into his head. Finally he composed himself, wrapped his arms around Pamela’s waist, and said, “I was thinking about kids I’ve met in the past. I’d let ‘em rollerblade around the house.”
“No way!” Pamela marveled.
“I’d also like to be rough and tumble with my children. Like doing gymnastics.”
“Gymnastics?”
“Yeah. The same way I used to hold Brandon up in the air with my palms while lying on my back. I’d stick my feet up in the air and he’d grab ‘em, and—”
“That’s great,” Pamela interrupted. “But who’s Brandon?”
Max caught himself. “Oh. Uh. Brandon. He’s one of my cousin’s kids.”
Pamela’s smile beamed with inner happiness. “You passed with flying colors. I like your honesty, Max. I always value a relationship where we have nothing to hide.”
Max wince
d to himself, moaned, slurped on his straw and drank more of his orange juice. He felt his brains were frying, from trying to hold in his memories from Life I. He could feel his heartbeat, running away with itself.
Trying not to look worried, he said apprehensively, “Okay. My turn.”
She sat tall. “Only fair.”
Max was lost in thought. Which should he ask her? He thought of his marriage to Abby again. A light switched on above his head. I’ve got it.
“Do you believe in love at first sight? Do you believe in fate?”
“Whoa,” Pamela pondered, “That’s deep.” She thought it over, cradling her drink, now with a few melting ice cubes at the bottom. “The first part’s easy, I definitely believe in love at first sight. As for fate… I never thought of it. But I believe that what’s happening is meant to happen. So I’d say yes.”
“Woohoo!” Max cheered.
Pamela glanced at the clock on the wall. “My lunch’s over now. I’ve got about two hours left on my shift here.” She paused, rubbing a finger lightly along his forearm. “You don’t have any plans for tonight, do you?”
“Uh…” Max let out a long, slow breath. The audible thump of his heart was driving him crazy. For a moment he wondered if they might both be crazy. Then a light shone in his eyes, and he answered, “Now I do.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
August 16, 1994 at 7:53 p.m.
They were married two months later, in May, shortly after Nelson Mandela was elected the first black President of South Africa. One day as Max was checking through his mail, he saw a letter from Garfield. He sighed.
Why was he writing? They hadn’t talked with each other in two years. Max meant to give him a call, but medical school consumed his time. However, Max had to admit to himself that Nathan’s “cone of silence” regarding anything to do with Garfield’s name had greatly dampened his enthusiasm for his one-time best friend. Plus, he was still in “Life I Aversion Mode,” and Garfield reminded him too much of his former life. Still, his heart ached as he recalled the good times he had with this whimsical buddy, who was still the only guy who could make Max laugh just by farting on purpose.
[2013] Life II Page 17