A Life That Fits

by Heather Wardell

  Folks, we're going to have to take more time off. Too many people are still sick, and there's no point rehearsing the few who aren't. We need everyone there. So we'll get back together on Friday and do the walk-through of the first act we were planning for Monday. Seven o'clock. If you're still too sick by then, let me know. If I haven't died by then.

  Take it easy,

  David

  If only the book had been more enthralling. I went back to the couch and my blankets, then dissolved into tears that hurt my throat and made it even harder to breathe.

  I couldn't help crying, though. I'd sickened everyone. We couldn't change the show dates, since the theater was booked for months, and this week off would do us so much damage. Nobody had mentioned being sick or unusually tired at Tuesday's rehearsal, but I'd already been exhausted and the sore throat had appeared the next morning. I was the Typhoid Mary of the musical theater.

  I was the cause of this whole mess.

  Chapter Thirty

  I took Monday off work, then made myself go in Tuesday, convinced I could handle it. I only made it until lunch time before I was too worn out to continue, but I did take home a stack of work over Loren's objections.

  Sitting in my pajamas on the couch with Harrison snoring beside me felt so much better than being dressed and at work, and I actually got quite a bit of work done between naps. I worked from home on Wednesday and Thursday, then again felt like I could handle the office on Friday.

  I was right this time; though I was still weak I didn't feel any worse as the day went on. I even had enough energy to have lunch with Wendy, which worked out well since she was headed back to New York for the weekend and wanted to chat about how to deal with the client, and to grab a quick coffee with Loren in the afternoon. I'd missed him. We worked so well together, bouncing ideas off each other and coming up with even better ideas in the process, and besides I just enjoyed his company.

  Nobody was enjoying anyone's company when I got to the musical theater rehearsal hall that night after bellydance class. Instead of the usual bustle of chat, people sat in small isolated groups and looked grumpy. The friendly atmosphere I'd experienced at my dance class, and the way everyone commiserated with me on having been sick and gently teased Nadia for her 'bellydancing virus', only made the tension and lack of camaraderie at musical theater more obvious.

  The situation didn't improve when David began rehearsal, either. He looked exhausted but was at least able to talk, then to yell when people were in the wrong place or messed up their dance steps.

  "We couldn't practice," a girl finally snapped back at him. "We've been sick."

  The guy playing the monkey King Louie snapped at her in turn. "You didn't know your steps before anyhow. Most of you guys didn't. Everyone's blaming some stupid little cold for being useless, but I don't think it's got anything to do with it. Admit you're slacking already."

  Anyone who'd had that cold wouldn't have dismissed it as a stupid little one, and the people who'd succumbed were outraged. I sat, biting my lip to keep from crying, as people I'd grown to care about fought all around me.

  David eventually managed to stop them, but his words didn't exactly soothe the savage beasts. "Shut up already, all of you. We have no time for this. None. We're a week behind, and this bickering isn't helping. Let's go. From the top."

  We did, but the people who'd been sick were still so low-energy that they kept dropping out of the dance routines and the others were frustrated by what must have felt like a waste of their time, and the whole mess was absolutely agonizing.

  When rehearsal was finally over, David sat us all down, ignoring the sighs from those who wanted to get home and go back to bed. "We need to pull together. If you don't know your notes or your steps, learn them right now. If you're tired, get your rest, and if you were lucky enough not to get sick maybe you could find a little sympathy for the others. We can't keep going like this. We're all in this together, so let's act like it."

  We filed out without speaking, but the way the healthy ones and the sick ones eyed each other made it clear we weren't exactly in it together despite his words.

  I went home, so tired I couldn't think and so upset about the way the group was crumbling because of me that I just wanted to crawl into bed and cry myself to sleep. If I hadn't reversed my life, hadn't taken on the musical theater challenge, they'd be fine right now. My reversal had ruined everything for them.

  I was so exhausted and worried that when I reached my building and saw Alex on the front steps I barely even jumped.

  "Where have you been?"

  "Rehearsal."

  He blinked. "For what?"

  "I'm playing clarinet with a musical theater group."

  He raised his eyebrows. "Really. What show are they doing?"

  I was about to answer, but my poor tired brain finally realized that Alex shouldn't be there. "Go away. I don't want to see you."

  He obviously didn't believe me, since he moved down the steps and put his hands on my shoulders. "I'm so sorry for everything. I was an idiot. I've missed you so much. Have you missed me?"

  "No."

  He ran a hand over my hair, as he'd always done, as I loved him doing, and the familiar comfort of it after the awful week I'd had made tears well up. I shut my eyes, not wanting him to see, but he drew me a little closer and murmured, "I'm so sorry. I love you."

  I squeezed my eyes tighter shut and didn't answer. I had no idea what to say. I had loved him so much, for so long. Was it possible that I didn't any more? I'd begun to move on, but could there really be no sparks left?

  He kissed my forehead, then moved across to my temple and down onto my cheek, talking between kisses. "I'm so sorry. I screwed up. I wanted to come back and I didn't know how. I love you."

  I wanted to push him away and laugh in his face, but I also wanted him to hold me tight and comfort me, and I was too weak to push.

  His kisses moved closer to my mouth, and though I didn't turn into him I couldn't make myself turn away either, and he gave me a soft sweet kiss.

  Funny how after so many years of just him his kiss could now feel unfamiliar, but it did. No doubt he'd learned a few things from Kelly and his other women.

  Anger gave me a fleeting instant of strength, and I used it to push him back. "How could I ever trust you? You were with all those other women, you cheated on me... how do I know it won't happen again?"

  He held my gaze, his eyes calm and steady, and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small black box then flipping it open. "Marry me."

  The diamond sparkled in the streetlight's dim glow, and I stared at it as if the appropriate response might be engraved on it. Then I raised my eyes to his, to his confident face, and said, "That doesn't answer my question."

  His confidence flickered, and I felt another flash of anger. How could he possibly think-- I put that question aside for later, though, because he was saying, his voice full of hurt and confusion, "But I'm sorry. And I love you. I'll do anything to convince you, so what do I need to do?"

  My stomach twisted, no doubt due to how little I'd been eating. I took a deep breath and willed it to relax. "I don't know. But you haven't done anything yet. I am nowhere near ready to marry you. I never thought I'd see you again, and I'm not sure I ever wanted to. We've got a long way to go before we could get engaged."

  He put the ring box away and pulled me close. "I'm sorry. But I do want to marry you."

  "You never wanted to before," I said, trying not to let myself relax too much in his embrace. The unfamiliarity was fading and all the years of drawing comfort from his arms around me were taking over, and I didn't know yet if I wanted that to happen. "You didn't even talk to me after you left. You left me all alone."

  "I thought that would be easier on you. Cutting the ties completely. I've been an idiot. But I love you. Will you let me show you?"

  I saw a single flash of aquamarine eyes behind my closed eyelids, then nothing but blackness as I gave in. Alex was just too much
a part of me. His smell, his touch on my hair, even the roughness of his denim jacket against my cheek... every atom of my body knew him and wanted him back, and my poor tired heart and soul couldn't resist any more. "Okay," I said on a sigh.

  He pulled me closer, then took my face in both hands and kissed me again. I let him, keeping the memory of the last man who'd held me and kissed me trapped safely behind locked doors in my mind, and felt my body gradually warming to him.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Alex walked back into the apartment, ahead of me, as if he'd never been away, but froze a few steps into the foyer. "What's that?"

  I looked past him. "Who, not what." I picked up the cat and cuddled him close. "He's Harrison. I've had him, oh, nearly two months now." My furry orange line, whose presence was supposed to prevent exactly what I'd just let happen. I squeezed the cat tighter, trying to get my head around everything.

  "I never wanted a pet."

  Alex's tone was neutral, but I looked up and took a breath to say, "He's staying." Before I could, he added, "He's cute, though." Brushing his fingers over Harrison's head, he said, "Soft, too. He's housetrained, right?"

  I nodded, feeling a strange mix of pride and confusion and disappointment, then said, "I should feed him and clean his box."

  I took my time doing those chores, needing a moment to collect myself. Alex was back. I'd let Alex come back. He'd wanted to, and I'd let him so I must have wanted him back. So why did I feel dead inside?

  When I'd finished with the cat care, I found Alex standing in the living room studying the purply-blue living room paint. I started to say something, although I didn't know what, but he said, "It's pretty. Like you," and pulled me onto the couch with him where to my surprise he started kissing and touching me and telling me how much he wanted me.

  Sex would probably bond us together again, and his caresses did feel good, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I toyed with pretending I had my period, since he never wanted to have sex then, but instead said, "No, I'm not ready for that."

  He pulled back, looking hurt and surprised, but before I could try to explain he said, "That's okay, I understand. You need time to get used to all this."

  I wasn't sure I'd live long enough for that to happen.

  I didn't even feel ready to sleep in the same bed with him so I set up the couch for him as if there was no other option and he didn't question it.

  We spent Saturday watching television and playing with Harrison and not talking about anything that mattered, just like we'd never been apart. It felt familiar and comfortable at times, but then I'd realize how weird it all was and my stomach would tighten again. I couldn't eat much, even though I did feel hungry, but I did my best to choke down the dinner he insisted on making for me. I'd wanted to reverse my life, and I had, but now it was upside down and twisted around. It would straighten out, though, once I got used to having Alex back. I hoped.

  At the end of the day Alex didn't ask me to let him sleep with me, but when I again prepared the couch for him he looked sadly at me before I went into the bedroom that used to be ours and closed the door firmly behind me.

  I escaped the strangeness of having what I'd thought for months I wanted by going to orchestra rehearsal on Sunday but came back just as upset as Friday, since the situation there had somehow managed to become even more tense. Alex hugged me to comfort me, then tried again to get me into bed, and after again refusing I said, "I'm not going to be ready in a day or two, you know. You cheated on me and dumped me. You think I've just forgotten that?"

  He picked up a crochet hook from the coffee table and began toying with it. "Of course not. I don't know how else to make it up to you, though."

  "So you want to sleep with me to say you're sorry."

  "Sounds stupid when you say it that way."

  I took my hook from his hands before he made me crazy with his fiddling. "I just don't understand. And I need to."

  "I screwed up. I don't know what else to say."

  I wanted to suggest, "I'll never do it again," but didn't want to know whether he'd make that promise without hesitation so I simply said, "I need time. Don't push me."

  He nodded and said, "Tell me about this yarn stuff. What are you up to?"

  Happy he cared about my new hobby, I told him how I'd found it and how much I enjoyed it but before long realized he was yawning. I stopped mid-sentence, annoyed.

  "Sorry, it's not you. The couch is awfully lumpy."

  Since I'd fallen asleep out there a few times myself, I knew he was right, and that night I let him sleep in the bed with me. When I woke in the middle of the night to find myself wrapped in his arms his warmth and familiarity felt good and also made me feel sick. What was I doing? Was this really what I wanted? I fell back to sleep before I could decide, and in the morning Alex was on his own side of the bed with his back to me and I didn't know whether to feel relieved or annoyed.

  All in all, I spent the weekend feeling like a tightrope walker in a heavy wind, and going to work on Monday was actually a relief. I knew where I stood there.

  Of course, Loren was also there, and I didn't know whether I should be telling him I'd taken Alex back or whether it didn't matter since we'd simply shared one brief wild moment that would never happen again. Well, it couldn't happen again now, naturally, but since neither of us had made a move in the weeks since we'd kissed we obviously weren't meant to be together.

  On the way to work I decided not to tell him, or anyone. I hadn't told my new group about Alex, hadn't even mentioned his name or how long we'd been together to anyone but Loren, so why bother announcing we'd gotten back together?

  That plan went out the window, though, when I headed to the photocopier at nine and saw Wendy, clearly fighting back tears, being comforted by Loren and Jay.

  "Are you okay?"

  She looked at me and sniffled. "Yeah. Got dumped, that's all."

  I gave her an awkward hug, our first hug ever. "I'm sorry."

  She rubbed her eyes. "Right before I leave for New York Friday night, he calls me, at the airport no less, and sounds totally normal until suddenly he says he's going back to his ex. I spent half the flight raging and the other half bawling. I think they nearly had airport security meet me in New York, I probably looked insane." She dissolved into tears again.

  The others said all the right things, about how he was an idiot and should never have let her go, but I couldn't speak, my head too full of a few key words. Back to his ex. Friday night. Idiot.

  When Wendy had calmed a bit, I said, "I'm sorry Henry did that to you," knowing full well Henry wasn't her ex's name. I couldn't bring myself to ask her flat-out.

  "Thanks, but his name's Alex. Henry's my brother-in-law."

  As I struggled to breathe Loren turned to face me. Our eyes met and the shock and pain in his tore at my heart. I'd named my ex when Loren and I had spent the day together, and no doubt he could recognize my reaction now. Oh, God. I'd never have wanted him to find out like this.

  But I had another coworker to think of before I could worry about Loren.

  "Wendy?" I said, tearing my eyes from Loren. "I need to talk to you. Alone."

  My voice felt strange and sounded stranger to me, and clearly to her too because she stared at me before saying, "Right now?"

  I nodded, and she thanked the others for their support then led me into the nearby conference room. I could feel Loren's eyes on me but I couldn't look at him.

  Wendy closed the door behind us and dropped into a chair. "What's up?"

  I didn't know how to say it.

  She leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. "You look worse than I feel. What's going on?"

  Clinging to one last strand of hope, I said, "Is Alex's last name Lockton?"

  She blinked. "Yeah. How'd you know that?"

  Because I have descended into hell on earth. "Wendy, I'm so sorry. I'm the ex he went back to."

  Her forehead furrowed as if this new information was making everything in her head
change positions. I knew how she felt. I waited, until she said, "He and I didn't talk about our past relationships. He said he wanted a clean slate. But Friday he said you two were together for fourteen years."

  I nodded.

  "You never said anything. Not details, anyhow. I knew you had a breakup but nothing more."

  "I didn't want to talk about it. I figured it was in the past, and besides part of the problem at my previous job was them thinking I was too messed up. I didn't think telling you guys would do anyone any good."

  She nodded vaguely.

  "I had no idea he would ever come back to me, and I had no idea he was with you. If I'd known..."

  I trailed off. If I had known, what? Would I have refused him? I didn't want to think I'd have taken him fresh from my friend's arms, but I'd also been convinced I'd never take him at all.

  "I didn't tell you his name?"

  I shook my head. "If you had, I'd have wondered. You mentioned your boyfriend, but not his name. We never really discussed guys, remember?"

  She nodded again. "I told him about you, though. About my new friend at work, and I'm sure I said your name now that I think about it. I wonder if he figured out it was you."

  Me too. She'd been worried about me on Friday. Had she told him on the phone that her new coworker, new friend, was sick and exhausted, and then he'd dumped her and come to find me when I'd be unable to resist him?

  When I couldn't handle the silence any more, I said, "I'm so sorry. Can you forgive me?"

  She stared straight ahead. "For what? I don't see how you did anything wrong. I'm just totally shocked. That he left me, that you're his ex, that I was wrong about you and--well, never mind that one. Everything feels weird. But I don't think you did anything to need forgiveness."

  Then why wouldn't she look at me? "You don't have to answer this, but do you really like Alex?"