by Paul Cwalina
“Maybe...October is nice, too,” she said while still looking out the window.
“True. The colors in October would be really nice.”
She barely let me finish my thought when she said, “Do you remember when we first started going out together?”
“You mean how we met?”
“No, just those early days...the first year or so.”
“Sure. Seems so long ago, doesn’t it?” I asked trying to keep the conversation alive.
“In many ways, yes,” she said seeming to want to say more.
Well, at least she’s finally talking.
“Remember the three things we always used to say we wanted more than anything?” she asked.
I chuckled. “Of course: money, world domination and the perfect beer.”
“Yeah,” she said softly, then she leaned her head against the window, looking out and running her finger aimlessly along the glass. “Sometimes I think I just want the money and the beer.”
I tried to keep the mood light. “Well, we’ve certainly put our time into searching for that beer.” She didn’t respond. “And we are well on our way with the first two.”
Again, Sarah didn’t respond and kept staring out the window.
She was obviously stressed, so I tried to comfort her. I put my hand on her leg and said, “Oh, baby, it’s going to be OK. It’s stressful now, I know. It always is when you are building something. We’re on our way, though.”
She offered a small reluctant smile, but it was just to humor me. She was out of it for some reason. She was in a mood and I knew her too well to try to shake her out of it. We reverted back to silence for the rest of the ride.
I brought the car to a stop at the Agency for the Aging building. She grabbed her purse and her canvas bag of cleaning and small construction tools and opened the door.
“I vote for May,” I said.
“What?”
“I think we should do it in May.”
“The wedding?” she asked, as if we had never even spoken about it.
I chuckled. “Um, yeah. What else would I be talking about?”
“Yeah, I suppose. Sorry. Let’s talk about it later.”
“Okay. I’ll pick you up at five and take you to the Fisk Building.”
“No, that’s OK. Why drive all the way out here? Gwen will take me and give me a ride home afterwards.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, she lives only a block away from my place, anyway.”
“OK.” I leaned across the passenger seat. “Love you. See you later.”
She leaned into the car. She quickly kissed my lips then shut the door before I could wish her a good day. That girl has too much on her mind.
Chapter Four
I was in three counties in three days, pressing the flesh and whipping up the party faithful. I had delivered my speech so many times by now that I was doing it completely from memory. Local mayors were eager to ask me questions about how we were turning around our city and looking for advice on everything from negotiating with unions to balancing budgets. I was quickly building credibility in the party.
Yvonne did a great job of promoting me and greasing the skids with the party infrastructure. I was warmly received everywhere I went. I don’t know if she had built such loyalty among the party’s leaders across the state, or if they lost their affection for Spencer as she had. I didn’t know and I didn’t care. I just needed them on my side and I needed their money. Whether they loved me or hated Spencer was of little concern to me. The voting machines didn’t care, either.
After the last luncheon of the week, I was eager to get back on the road home. I shook hands quickly and gave my cell number to those who wanted me to stay behind and chat. I kindly encouraged them to call me with any questions and thanked them for their support. Part of me felt bad, but I just wanted to get home, and Greg and I had a seventy mile drive ahead of us.
About ten minutes into the ride, I turned the radio down a bit. “Man, this pace is wearing me out,” I said, breaking the ‘guy silence’.
“Come on, man. You’re only in your thirties. This should be no problem for you,” Greg said, without taking his eyes off the road.
“I don’t mean physically. I’m fine in that sense,” I answered back. “No, just mentally, man. My head is swimming.” I turned to look out the window. The trees, guard rail and pavement rushed by in a blur. “I’m mentally exhausted between running the city and all this under-the-radar campaigning.”
“It’s only going to get more intense once the campaign starts in earnest,” he warned.
“Yeah, I know. We’re going to have to talk about shifting some of my responsibilities to you,” I said. “You can push some down the chain if you need to, but things are going to fall through the cracks if I try to maintain my current level of responsibilities.”
“I have no problem with that. Maybe we should talk about that next week.”
“Yeah, let’s do that. The sooner the better,” I said and exhaled heavily. “How are you doing? You OK?”
“Me? I’m fine. I’m stoked about this upcoming campaign. It’s going to be a blast,” he said, enthusiastically.
“You really like this stuff, don’t you?” I chuckled.
“Love it. Can’t get enough.”
Greg was happy being the kingmaker and not the king. That brings anonymity and less pressure, but the price you pay is turning over control of your life and livelihood to someone else. You have to ride someone else’s success or failure. I couldn’t live with that kind of lack of control. I don’t want my future dependent on someone else.
“How’s Heather doing? She getting excited about the wedding?” I asked, trying to get away from thinking about my responsibilities and the campaign.
“Too excited. That’s all she thinks about, man.”
“Yeah, I don’t know what it is about women and weddings...they’re like crack addicts when it comes to that stuff,” I said, then added, “But we’re not going to change them, so just grin and bear it.”
Greg shook his head, “Yeah, I suppose not. By the way, how’s Sarah doing? When are you guys going to nail your wedding date down?”
“I have no idea. We’re both living at a 100 miles-per-hour. We can barely coordinate dinner much less a wedding,” I said, frustrated.
“That’s gotta be bothering her. Isn’t she pushing you on it?”
Before I could respond, Sarah called.
“Speak of the devil,” I said before answering the phone. It was a brief conversation. Sarah just wanted to make sure I stopped by her place when I got back into town.
Even though the phone call was brief, I lost my spot in the conversation with Greg. I scrambled to remember what we were talking about, but couldn’t. Greg saved me by asking, “Hey, have you made arrangements for the bachelor party yet?”
“I haven’t. I’m sorry, man. I will. I promise,” I replied.
“That’s OK. I just want to be sure you know I want it low key. No strippers. No party girls,” he said sternly. “Just dinner, drinks and cigars, ok?”
“No problem. The last thing we need is a public relations nightmare over a party,” I said calming his nerves, I’m sure. “How about we get the Camelot room at the Good Knight bar? That should be big enough, right?”
“Perfect. Make that happen,” he said cheerfully and satisfied.
I put a reminder in my phone to call the Good Knight the next day. The rest of the trip was spent mostly in ‘guy silence’. Greg pulled into the city hall parking lot and dropped me off by the door. I told him to take the rest of the day off and he gratefully accepted my offer.
It was a long day and I still had to get to Sarah’s. After checking in at city hall, I returned a few calls and reviewed my calendar with Diane. I told her I was checking out early and headed home. I finally got to Sarah’s place at 6:30pm and walked into her apartment. We’d gotten way past the knocking-on-doors and ringing-of-doorbells. We were practically ma
rried in every way but the formality of the ceremony.
I called for her but I guess she didn’t hear me. I looked around a bit, but didn’t see her. As I glanced around, I noticed her place seemed cleaner and more organized than usual.
“I’ll be right there,” she called from the bedroom.
“OK…can I grab a beer?”
“I don’t have any,” she quickly shouted back.
I went back to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. There was a six-pack right on the top shelf. She must be losing it. I grabbed a bottle, twisted off the cap, tossed it onto the counter and made my way to the living room. I sunk into the sofa and looked briefly at a couple of the pictures she had on the end table. There was one of her and her friends from a weekend in Vegas and another of her somewhere with a snake wrapped around her shoulders. She was much calmer around that snake than I would have been.
Then I stared at her aquarium for a couple minutes with the hope that it would relax me after a day that was a little more intense than the others. It was good to be back home and I looked forward to relaxing over the next few days.
She emerged from the bedroom. I stood up to greet her.
“Hey there, babycakes…” I said cheerfully.
She responded by offering a cold ‘hi’. She didn’t look into my eyes as I leaned in for the ‘hello’ kiss and she offered me her cheek instead of lips. She was clearly nervous or upset about something. This couldn’t be good.
What did I do? More accurately, what did I do this time?
“How was your day?” she asked in a way that suggested she really wasn’t interested in an answer.
“Stressful, but I’m fine. Yours? Something seems wrong. Did something happen?”
“Ok, I guess….no, nothing happened. Sit down.”
I did and she sat next to me, but on the edge of the couch cushion and turned towards me. She seemed to look everywhere around the room except at me.
“You’re making me nervous. What’s wrong?” I asked.
Finally, she looked at me “We need to talk.”
I recognized the tone of that phrase. Something big is coming.
She grabbed my hand with her right hand, but kept her left closed in a fist. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to tell you this, so don’t be mad if it’s blunt.”
Holy guacamole…she’s pregnant. She’s worried about telling me because of how it will look to the public.
“This is hard,” she said softly.
I don’t care about public perception. I’ve wanted to be a father for a number of years, now. We’re in our mid-thirties, already. It’s time. It’s okay, Baby…you can tell me. Just spit it out.
I smiled and said, “It’s okay…you can tell me.”
“We’ve been together a long time, haven’t we?”
“Yes…and that’s going to be a permanent thing pretty soon. I promise.”
That’s when I noticed she wasn’t wearing her engagement ring. She smiled a nervous smile, then it quickly disappeared. “Yeah…but things really haven’t been that good between us, though, for a while now. You must know that,” she said.
“Well, I’ve been busy, I know, but…”
She interrupted. “Come on, you know it’s more than that. We don’t seem to be on the same page anymore.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“Come on…come on, don’t pretend that everything is OK. You know it’s not. We want different things.”
“I know things aren’t perfect. I’m not saying that everything is ok, but we can figure it out. I love you, baby.”
“I know you think you do.”
“What do you mean, ‘I think I do’? That’s bull. I love you with all of my heart and soul.”
“Ok, ok…I won’t try to tell you how you feel. But I know how I feel…”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t be upset….”
“It’s a little late for that. What are you trying to say, here? Are you breaking up with me?”
She couldn’t hold back anymore. I guess that question broke the dam. She put her hands to her face and began crying hard. Through the tears, she said, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”
“Baby, we can work this out. You don’t have to do this.” I put my left arm around her shoulders.
She shook her head and kept crying.
“We can get through this. I’ll do whatever you need me to do to fix this. Baby, I don’t want to lose you. We’re going to get through this.”
“No…no, we aren’t. There’s nothing to get through. There’s nothing here, anymore,” she said. Then she opened my hand and opened her fist to reveal the ring. She put the ring in my hand. “Here. I don’t want to keep this.”
I grabbed the ring and said, “Put that back on, baby. That’s yours.” I tried to force it back into her hand. “Stop doing this,” I insisted.
She pulled her hand away. “No. Come on, don’t do that. Don’t make this harder than it already is. It’s over between us,” she said, trying to be strong and stop herself from crying. That seemed to provide the ‘blunt’ she warned me about.
She seemed to manufacture an inner strength that she promised she would have for this and stood up. “There’s no need to drag this out. It’s been coming for a long time.”
I stood up with her. “What are you talking about ‘long time’?”
“You have some things here. I put them in a box. It’s in the closet next to the door.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because it needs to be done. And deep down, you know that, too.”
“No, I don’t know that,” I said, raising my voice a bit.
“You should go.” She gave me a hug and told me she was sorry, again. I didn’t respond.
I stood there stunned, like I didn’t understand what was happening. Is this real?
“It’s time to go,” she said, taking me by the arm and pulling me gently toward the door. She opened the closet door. “There’s your box.” I bent down and lifted the box. I wanted to say something to her but couldn’t think of a single thing to say. She opened the door to let me out.
One last time she said she was really sorry, then she shut the door, leaving me alone in the hallway. My mind was racing. My body felt numb and my stomach was trembling. I stood there just staring at her door. I walked to the elevator and pushed the button. I was in a complete daze.
I exited the building and went straight to my car. I threw the box onto the passenger seat, got in and sat there. This isn’t happening. What is going on here? I felt anxious. I need to do something, but what? After a minute or two of staring out the window, I put the key in the ignition, turned it on and backed out of my spot. I made a left out of the apartment building parking lot and started going nowhere in particular. I had no idea where to go. I kept playing the last few minutes in my head, thinking of what I could have said to her to change her mind.
I kept driving, thinking what I did so wrong that she would throw away what we had --- all that time and all those plans. Did I say something wrong? Did I do something wrong? What didn’t I do that I should have done? After a few more aimless turns, I decided that this wasn’t over and turned the car around at a convenience market. I headed right back to Sarah’s apartment.