by Carr, Suzie
“I am not incapable. Don’t ever tell me I’m incapable.”
“You were a traveling masseuse with no clients before I met you. I helped you.”
“Helped me.” I winced. “There you go again, jumping in headfirst to the rescue.”
“You needed help. I helped.”
“I will never need someone. Never. I am self-reliant. I don’t need saving,” I said.
“Everyone needs someone at some point,” Nadia said. “The fact that you think you’re so perfect as-is will only hold you back further in life. I feel bad for you. I really do.”
“You go around trying to save everyone like you’re the perfect host to some model life we should all strive to live. It’s you who needs to be saved from your enormous ego.”
She backed up as if I’d just slapped her. She ran off, past the pigeons, past the docks, past the toddlers tossing bread, past the park bench we sat on just a few weeks earlier, past it all.
Chapter Eighteen
Nadia
I drove back to Connecticut replaying our fight. I’m the one who needs to be saved?
And, how could she worry that I viewed her as my “little fuck buddy”?
Ruby had seduced me.
How fucked up. Ruby couldn’t even admit that she needed help. She worked so hard to keep up the façade of being this free spirit. When the end of the day came, however, did she not realize she needed money to put shelter over her head, food in her stomach, and gas in her car? I saved her from having to sacrifice any of those things. What was wrong with that?
I helped my sister, Jessica, Shawna, and Ruby because I liked to help them. Everyone liked to be needed. Didn’t they? This had nothing to do with an inflated ego.
Broken? Me?
I punched my steering wheel. Fuck that.
I would request a transfer immediately.
I didn’t need this crap in my life. I would stay focused on the woman who needed me.
A transfer would sever the tie between us. Ruby didn’t need me? Fine. I’d like to see how far she would get without my help.
I punched the steering wheel again. Why did I have to flip out the way I did? I could’ve kept quiet and let her vent. Now, she’d certainly never take my calls.
In thirty short minutes, I had screwed up my whole life. Now I’d lose touch with Shawna. Our friendship would fizzle. I’d no longer be able to monitor people at the lounge. She’d be forced to deal with idiots on her own.
And what about Ruby’s grampa? Would he still create pottery? He loved molding clay. He loved painting his finished piece. Would that all go away for him now? Would Ruby and Shawna bring him back there? Or would he be forced back into his routine of Sunday breakfast and stale conversation with the old ladies at the senior center?
No more Ruby. No more flirty phone calls. No more surprise cards delivered to me in the middle of the day. A lump formed in my throat. How would I ever enjoy a work day without looking down from my office and seeing her beautiful, long hair flapping around her toned shoulders as she leaned over strangers and massaged them? Would I ever be able to eat an apple again without reminiscing about our Sweet Tree? What if my neck knotted up again? Could I have another masseuse touch me without the stab of heartbreak interfering with recovery?
Fuck no.
I punched the wheel even harder.
No way.
Impossible.
I couldn’t.
My heart hurt. It ached, like someone had jumped on it and flattened it, emptying it of all its oxygen, its life.
I missed her already.
The sobs piled up in the back of my throat and unleashed. I bawled for miles, singing sad songs and reminiscing over our shared memories. She loved me. Of course she couldn’t stand to hang around pining for our time together while I catered to my marriage on the side. Ruby deserved greater than that. She deserved a full time lover who would commit to her and help her to see that needing each other was healthy. I thought of the pilot. They could fly around the skies enjoying the lightness of air and unlimited escapes to lands beyond the reach of Interstate ninety-five. She deserved this freedom, not the confines of being a mistress. I loved her. Wasn’t I supposed to want her happiness above my own? Was it supposed to hurt like this?
Ruby would never admit to needing me. How could I ever be with someone who feared my support? What kind of relationship would that be?
It wouldn’t be one.
I sped up, wanting to outrun the past and get started on the future. Maybe if I put enough miles between us, I’d get over her quicker.
I called Jessica about one hundred and thirty miles north of our home. “I’m on my way home. I should get there in two hours if traffic cooperates.”
“I’ve got some good news.”
“What’s that?”
“I got a great job.”
My heart should’ve twirled at this news. Life already took a better turn. “Doing what?”
“Dancing again.”
“Dancing?” Dancing meant temptation. Dancing meant busy schedules. Dancing meant booze. “How did that come about?”
“I answered a job in the paper and the guy at first said no way, he doesn’t hire people with a criminal record. So, I told him I’d show him my abilities by working one day for free. He agreed. I impressed him I guess. Of course, I was the only sober dancer on the stage.”
My new Jessica, Mrs. Industrious. Mrs. Clean and Sober. “How will you deal with the pressures?”
“I’m a changed woman. I’ll rely on the goodness of God to help me through.”
“You don’t have to rush into getting a job.”
“I need to work. I’m driving myself nuts hanging around here all day.”
“Is dancing the answer?”
She chuckled. “Hey, Butterfly?”
“Yes, sweetheart.”
“Just hurry up and get home. I can’t wait to give you a big hug.”
* *
When I got home, I unlocked the front door and Jessica was lounging on the couch watching television. She hopped right up from the couch and ran over to me. Before I could even drop my luggage, she took it from me and walked it into the living room. “Come on. Let me order us a pizza. We’ll nibble on it and hang out together.”
“Like old times?” My words dripped with hope.
“Just like old times. Sans the beer.”
I hugged her and she smelled like a cigarette. “Have you been smoking?”
She pulled away. “I’m sorry. It was just one cigarette.”
I braced her at arms’ length. “Really? Smoking?”
She lowered her eyes like a child. “I know I shouldn’t. I picked up the habit in prison and with all the stress of trying to get back to normal living, it helps.”
“I don’t want you to be a smoker. Promise me you’ll quit.”
She looked up at me. “I promise. I’ve just got a couple more in the pack, and I promise never to buy another one.”
“Why not just toss them now?”
She tilted her head. “I’d rather not. It’s a mental thing. You know like starting a workout mid-week wouldn’t work as well as starting on a Monday.”
“Okay.” I dropped my hands from her. I was too tired to argue. I’d deal with it later. “I’m just going to go refresh before we eat.”
I climbed the stairs and inhaled deeply, reassuring myself that everything would fall back into place as it was before. I would see to it.
In the month that followed, I focused on my marriage, working harder than ever to build Jessica back up to her prime position. The dancing gig lasted all of two days. She quit when her fellow dancers pressured her to drink with them. She refused and came home smelling of cigarettes again. “Yes, I’ve been smoking. I’m stressed.” She stormed up the stairs. “Is it too much to ask that I just want to work?” She slammed our bedroom door.
By the second week, her stress exploded when Sasha told her that Keith would not be able to hire her to work in the ho
tel. “That was my last resort.” She lit a cigarette on the patio, pacing feverishly back and forth, shaking. “She actually told me Keith didn’t want to hire an ex-con. She actually called me an ex-con.” She drew long and hard on her cigarette. “If family can’t give me a break, who will?” Smoke streamed from her nostrils.
“Just calm down.” I stared at the tip of her dangling cigarette. I had no idea how to make her quit. “I’ll have a talk with her.”
“I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking I’m weak and pathetic because I traded one bad habit for another. I need you to ease up on me here.”
I tossed my hands in the air. “I didn’t say anything.”
“No, but you’ve got that stern look about you.”
I needed to soften her. I needed her to listen to me. I couldn’t help her in this frazzled state. “I’m not your enemy,” I whispered.
She flung her head back. “I know.” She clung to herself. I’d never seen her so distraught, not even when she had entered prison. I needed to prove I was on her side. As much as I dreaded it, I picked up her pack from the table and lit one for myself. I inhaled deeply. “See,” I said, coughing. “I’m right by your side. If this is what you need to get you through, then we’ll smoke.” I inhaled again. The smoke stung my eyes. “We’ll get through this together.”
“I love you so much,” she said, pulling me into her arms.
“I love you, too.”
We clung to each other dragging on our cigarettes like a couple of rough and tough women. First build the trust. Then, remold and redefine. Blend to mend.
As the days passed, I lifted her mood by spoiling her with things like digital montages of our vacation photos and new pillows for the bed. She responded with brighter smiles and a fresh perspective on her situation. “Maybe it’s time I do something totally different with my life.”
“This is a great opportunity for you to break away from what you’ve always done.”
Within three weeks, Jessica got a job landscaping. She came home happy and smiling, humming tunes while preparing chicken and fish dinners. “I can see myself opening up my own landscaping company one day. It’s seriously so simple. Most of the clients already told me they’d hire me in a heartbeat.” She breaded chicken cutlets, and a smile danced on her face.
* *
A week later, I trekked up to the Rhode Island office to check on things. I sneaked in the back door so I wouldn’t have to walk past Ruby’s massage oasis.
Shawna tended the bar, wiping up remnants of someone’s lunch. “It’s about freaking time.”
“I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to call you back.” I sat down. “I’ve been busy.”
She arched her eye. “Did corporate tell you?”
“Tell me what?”
“Ruby quit.”
My body numbed. “No one told me.”
“Yup, she’s not even massaging anymore. She’s walking dogs.”
I poured salt from the shaker in front of me and twirled my finger around in it. “She’s so freaking stubborn.”
“Why are you making a mess of my bar?”
I stopped twirling, surprised at her authority. “I’m sorry.”
Shawna braced against the bar, easing her command over my salt pile. “Are you doing okay?”
“I’m fine.” I lifted my face to meet her eye. “I miss her. But, I want her to be happy.”
“She’s dating that pilot woman. She’s actually very sweet. But she’s no you.”
The truth jerked at my heart. “Well, I’m glad to see she’s getting on with her life.” I swallowed the bitter lie. “How about you? Are things going okay here for you? Any problems that I should know about?”
“I fired someone.” A proud twinkle danced in her eye.
“What happened?”
“He couldn’t handle me. He said my lipstick disturbed him. So, I told him his face disturbed me and kicked him out.”
I laughed. I could just see the scene playing out with Shawna standing tall, challenging the guy to give her more attitude and he backing down and running away. “Good for you.” I swirled my salt some more. “Have you seen her grampa?”
“That’s another reason I was trying to call you. He’s having some trouble with his eyes. He’s got that macular degenerative disease and it’s serving him up some trouble. I feel bad for him. So, I’ve been reading to him almost every day.” She wiped away my salt. “He’s always asking about pretty Nadia.”
“That man brings a smile to my face. He’s a true spirit, isn’t he?”
She nodded. “I’m heading over there after my lunch shift if you want to go.”
“Will Ruby be there?”
“Not today. She can only get there a few days a week with her dog walking schedule.”
“She’s on a schedule?”
“Our girl is on a schedule.” She laughed. “Imagine that?”
* *
A few hours later, Shawna and I walked into his apartment. He slurped Jell-O while watching Days of Our Lives. He looked up at me and smiled. “There’s my pretty girl.” He lifted his Jell-O cup. “Hey, want some?”
“No.” I sat down on the couch. “You enjoy it.”
He smiled and continued to slurp. He looked like a child swishing the Jell-O around his cup. “So Ruby tells me you got a big promotion. Is that why you haven’t been around?”
I nodded, admiring Ruby’s compassion. “It’s been a little hectic, yes, sir.”
“Where’s Ruby? She didn’t come with you?”
“She’s out walking dogs,” Shawna said.
He nodded. “Oh yes. That’s right.” His wrinkles looked deeper since the last time I saw him. His face drooped more. “She’s wild just like her mother was. You know,” he leaned in and whispered. “You can’t cage those two. They’re like those feral cats that used to wander around my barn. They just want to roam on their terms.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“That’s why they sparkle with such beauty.” He winked.
I reached out and placed my hand over his wrist ready to change the tone. “How’s life treating you?”
He craned his head. “My eyes are giving me a bit of some trouble. I can barely read the large print anymore.”
“Do you want me to read to you?”
“No.” He straightened his lips. “I just want to talk. Do you want to hear some fascinating stories?”
I scooted in closer. “You bet.”
We spent an hour with him listening to stories about his days working the farm and how the great flood of thirty-eight nearly swept away his whole town. He enlightened us about how lucky we had it these days now that we could enjoy indoor plumbing and electricity and town water. He circled around some of his childhood memories with a laugh, and then he plowed through some facts about immigrating to America from Canada. He explained how tough of a time he had learning to speak English. As he finished telling us about a joke he played on some neighborhood punks who used to make fun of him for talking with a French Canadian accent, he started to nod off. We took the cue and stood. I leaned down and kissed his cheek and whispered, “Next time I’ll bring a book.”
Shawna and I walked out of his home saddened. “Does the guy ever get to leave his apartment?” I asked.
“Every Sunday. We’ve been taking him out to that Rafters place. He turns into a light bulb there. He just brightens to life. Ruby does too. It’s like all the burdens of life just drop off onto the front stoop and allow those two to enjoy quality time together.”
I envied Shawna. How badly I wanted to spend my weekends tumbling down the rolling hills, building massive bonfires and cooking bacon and pancakes on the old-fashioned stove instead of waking to boring bowls of Cheerios and the morning news. “Do you like it there?”
“I do.” She blushed.
“Why are you blushing?”
She fanned herself, reddening even more. “I’m not blushing.”
“Doesn’t have anyth
ing to do with Eloise, does it?” I nudged her.
Her face broke out into blotches. “Oh stop.” She brushed my comment away with a flick of her wrist.
I latched onto her. “Tell me more.”
She licked her lips, twisted her mouth, and blinked heavily.
“I’ve got a lot of time, if you have something to tell me.” I squeezed her arm in mine.
She stopped, drew a deep breath, and exhaled. “How about if we just go to the pottery shop and make a mug or something?”
I released her arm. “Last one to the car buys the coffee.”
I sped off leaving her in my dust.
* *
We sat molding clay. She formed a ridiculous mug. “Do you like it?”
“Keep working it.” We pinched and tucked and smoothed our clay as she dodged questions about Eloise.
“Come on. Tell me something.”
“She’s much younger than I am.”
“Like how much?”
“Thirteen years younger.”
I laughed. “So does she adore you as much as you adore her?”
“Not in the least bit.” She lifted up her mug.
“That is getting worse by the minute,” I laughed. Shawna arched her eye in agreement.
“Does she know you adore her?”
“I turn into a silly, giggly fool whenever she enters the room. I get worse each visit.”
“So you’ve got no game?”
“None.”
“Have you tried to let her know you’re interested?”
She shook her head. “I won’t. I couldn’t. I mean how would I start such a conversation with someone?”
“Don’t use words.” I smiled.
She flushed. “You have no idea what it’s like for me.”
“You don’t give people enough credit. Everyone is not out to get you.”
“Boss, there are some sick bastards out there,” she said.
“I hardly doubt Eloise is one of them.”
“She’s sweet. She’s shy. She can’t even look me in the eye.”
“Invite her out for a walk by the river. Just let nature take its course.”
“I’m not going to take her out by the river and start putting the moves on her. She’d freak out.”