Ella shook her head, dread washing over her like smoke slipping under the door. “No.”
“I did.”
“Well, please make a copy of the copy.”
“Oh, I didn’t make a copy after all. I decided it looked too much like one of my designs.”
“Huh?” A buzzing began in Ella’s ears and then moved further, deeper into her skull. It was the same sensation she’d had right before she ran out of the house with the box of baseball cards. If she didn’t leave right this second she would do something just as irreversible. As unforgivable. As irrevocable.
“Are you okay?” Margo asked, pursing her too-red lips.
“Do you mind looking on your desk?”
“I know it’s not there.”
Ella turned away, walking slowly to the exit. The store as unfamiliar as if she’d walked through it for the first time: the white wooden-planked walls with photos of cakes and flowers. Mirrors, lots of mirrors because brides liked to look at themselves. There were pink linen benches and round oak tables full of wedding paraphernalia (garters, bridesmaid T-shirts, cake toppers)—these things were blurring in Ella’s sight. The buzzing in her ears grew louder until she burst out the front door and sat on a bench with her hands over her ears. She was such a fool. She gave away her drawing. She gave away her heart. All to people who didn’t give a damn about the value of what she offered. The tears wanted to come; she felt them threatening like small pins stuck into the back of her throat.
No more.
She stood up. She would not give away one more piece of herself to undeserving people. Speaking of undeserving, what did Amber want so badly?
She dialed Amber’s number.
“Hey!” Amber’s happy voice filled the air. Ella pulled the phone away.
“What’s up?” Ella asked.
“Well, I think it’s what you want to tell me,” Amber said.
“Huh?”
“You acted so sad and broken up about Sims, but I heard that you were with some guy the other night at Sunset. That you were…”
“Drunk,” Ella filled in the blank.
“Yes,” Amber said. “So tell me, who was the guy? Our favorite cabbie, Billy, said he was cute. That he seemed really into you.”
“As if he could tell from inside the car at night?” Ella said. “Please.”
“Well, I also heard it from a couple of people who were on the roof that night.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep. So … spill the beans, my friend. What is going on?”
“Nothing really. It was a writer in town gathering information. I drank too much. End of story. Nothing interesting here, Amber. Sorry to disappoint you.”
“Well, Sims asked me questions. He heard about it, too. And he said it sounds like the same guy he saw you with at the Patio.”
Ella could practically hear the exclamation point on the end of Amber’s sentence. “His name is Hunter Adderman and he had a million questions about the town and the history and all that.”
“Questions he couldn’t go to the historical society for?”
“I asked the same thing. He said he went there.”
“Well, Sims wants to know if you have some new guy.”
“Sims? What does he care?” The buzzing in Ella’s ears stopped then and a hope rose, or something close to hope. Anticipation?
“Well, he must care because he asked me about him.”
“Well, you can tell him that what’s good for the goose is good for the gander. Or whatever, because that was dumb.”
Amber laughed and for a minute it felt like they were friends again. Why was Amber calling about Hunter now? That had happened days ago. But if Sims had just heard about it …
“Wait,” Ella said. “I thought they were still in Napa.”
“They got home yesterday.”
Ella calculated. God, she’d missed him by only hours. Had she cleaned the house well enough so he wouldn’t notice she’d been there, eating Chinese food? Kissing a man? Sleeping there until her ankle felt better? He must have noticed she took some clothes and dishes.
“Listen, I have to go.” Ella looked back toward Swept Away. Her heart still beat erratically with Margo’s lie. Of course Margo had the drawing. This, for the first time in a long time, was something that mattered more to Ella than Sims.
“Don’t hang up,” Amber said.
“I need to work,” Ella said. “I’ll call you later.”
“You’re still mad at me.”
“No. I’m not.” Ella paused as she watched Margo exit the front of the store. This was the time Margo went to get her afternoon coffee: double shot of espresso.
“Please don’t be mad,” Amber begged again.
“Gotta go, Amber. I promise I’ll call you later.” Ella hung up and bolted back to the store.
The tiny wedding bell tinkled as she entered the store and ran straight back to Margo’s office. Ella yanked on the doorknob but it was locked. She looked frantically around and found Nadine, the assistant. She hollered. “Nadine, where’s the key?”
Nadine walked to Ella and held it out. “What do you need?”
“I left my paycheck in there.”
“Well, she’ll be back in a second. She’s just…”
“Getting her coffee. I know. But I’m running to the bank now.”
Nadine unlocked the office and then looked to Ella. “Are you sure?”
“What a weird question.” Ella smiled at Nadine and entered the office under Nadine’s watchful eye. She glanced around Margo’s workspace, also done in all white and beige. God, did the woman ever get tired of white? If Ella ever married again, she’d get married in red, or maybe black.
“Where is it?” Nadine asked.
“I thought I left it right here on the desk.” Ella leafed through a pile of invoices. Think quick. Where would she put sketches?
A scrap of paper poked out of a file folder labeled TO DO. There was the water stain on the lower right corner. Silently she thanked herself for the clumsy spill at the café. With a quick move, she grabbed the paper from the file and stuck it into her back pocket. “Got it,” she said, and turned to smile at Nadine, although her lips shook with the effort.
“Oh, good.”
Nadine locked the door to the office and Ella returned to Sole Mates, slowly, slowly.…
It must be a good design if Margo wanted it, lied about it. Ella reached for her phone and before she knew what she’d done, she dialed Hunter’s number. By the second ring, she’d hung up. What was she thinking? If she ever called him or talked to him again, she was going to have to tell him the truth. All it would take is one quick Google search to find out she was a liar. Maybe he’d already found out, which was why she hadn’t heard a word from him since he left two days ago.
She wanted to tell someone about the design. Not Amber. Not Sims. Not her dad, who was on a trip.
Ella smiled as she thought of Mimi. Yes. Just knock on the door and tell her that she stole back the sketch from her boss, that she’d stood up for herself in a way that she’d never done before.
* * *
Small shuffles and a “shush” to the dog came from behind the door. Mimi’s left eye and her nose appeared from the crack of the door. The chain, latched from the inside, ran across the space. “Oh, Ella, what a lovely surprise.” She shut the door and there was the sound of chain dropping before the door flung open.
“Hi, Mimi.” Embarrassment overcame Ella. In her impetuous need to tell someone about her petty crime she hadn’t weighed the situation, she hadn’t really thought it all through. The thrill of it was already gone.
“I’m so glad you stopped by. Come in. Come in.” Mimi opened the door wide and brushed her hand into the room. “Oh, dear, are you here to complain about Bruiser’s bark getting worse? I’m getting all excited about your visit and you might just be here to…”
“No. I’m here to say hello. Check in. Take you up on your offer. You know”—she leaned closer to
Mimi—“the bourbon and pound cake.”
“I was hoping so.” Mimi shuffled to the kitchen. She never fully lifted her feet off the ground and her slippers were worn thin. Her white hair stuck out on the right side, flattened and then puffy as if she’d slept on it and not moved at all. Maybe she got halfway through doing her hair and forgot to finish.
Ella dropped her purse on the kitchen table. “What can I do to help?” she asked.
“Not a thing. Just sit right there in the big chair and let me serve you. I bet you’ve been on your feet all day.”
Ella obeyed, and dropped into the chair. She flipped off her shoes and wiggled her toes. Her ankle looked better and she twisted it to stretch. Last night, she’d painted her toes a seashell pink and today already they were chipped and ragged. But what else was there to do? Watch E! TV and see the “reality” that was not reality at all?
Mimi sang in the kitchen, a song about stars and heavens.
“Sinatra,” Ella called out.
“My favorite,” Mimi said.
Bruiser rested on a doggie bed so large that it looked like a hand-me-down from a taller brother to a smaller one. Ella felt she needed to whisper so she wouldn’t wake Bruiser.
Mimi shuffled to Ella, her feet almost murmuring, and put a piece of cake on the side table. The plate was the same as last time, bone-thin china with a smattering of pink roses in a woven pattern around the edges. “I’m afraid to eat off that gorgeous plate,” Ella said as Mimi placed a small silver fork next to it.
“Always use the good stuff,” Mimi said. “Why else have it?”
“Life by Mimi,” Ella said.
“If only I’d ever taken my own advice.” Mimi’s laughter was deep, as if she’d earned it through her years. She returned to the kitchen and then brought back a small antique glass with a pale pink hue to it, a splash of bourbon resting on the bottom.
“Thanks,” Ella said, and took it from Mimi’s hands. “More Mimi life rules for me, please?” Ella smiled and lifted her shoulders in a pleading expression.
“How about this?” Mimi shuffled toward her seat. “After watching you be someone new with Hunter. Here’s one: Be the person you want to be.”
“I’m trying; I really am.”
“And this isn’t my rule, because I really don’t have any rules, but please try to remember that we teach people how to treat us. We really do.”
“God, I’m a terrible teacher then,” Ella said.
Mimi laughed. “Begin again. Always begin again.” She sat across from Ella and lifted her own glass. “Well, here’s to the end of another day. A good one, I hope.”
Ella lifted her glass and took a sip. Warmth spread across her chest and she remembered standing on the rooftop bar with Hunter, slugging back his drink and listening to the story about his invitation to a dead man. She remembered how for a second she almost touched him. “Yes,” she said to Mimi. “Here’s to a good finish to a good day.”
Ella took a bite of the pound cake and groaned out loud. “What is in this? This is the best cake I’ve ever tasted. It’s better than Amber’s cookies.”
Mimi laughed. “Oh, yes. I’ve heard of Amber’s cookies.”
“You have? She’s my best friend.”
“Really?”
“Well, not really. Not right now. She was, though.”
“What happened?”
“The girlfriend, the one sleeping with my husband, that one.”
“Your best friend? God, I’m getting you more bourbon.”
“No. Not Amber. Her sister, Betsy, a girl I’ve known for years. The younger sister who grew up and out and then slept with my husband.”
“Oh—so, this part I didn’t know. Your husband’s affair is with your best friend’s sister.”
“Yes.”
“Please run away with that gorgeous Hunter. Please.”
Ella tried to smile, but it was useless. “He’s already gone, Mimi. He’s back home to his life and his work. I was a quick intermission, and—”
“You could never be an intermission.”
“Anyway, this cake is amazing. Secret ingredient?”
“I’ll never tell.” Mimi winked.
“You don’t have to tell me. As long as I can eat it, I don’t have to make it.” Ella took another bite. “So, I have a little story to tell you.”
“Please do.” Mimi settled back into her chair and took another sip of her bourbon, so Ella did the same.
Her tongue loosened, her breath deeper and warmer. “I stole something.”
“Stole?”
“Took it back.”
“I’m confused,” Mimi said.
“You see, a few days ago my boss, Margo, saw one of my wedding dress design sketches, and she told me she wanted to make a copy of it and then she’d give me back my original. But when I asked for the original back today, she said she gave it to me, that she’d put it into my paycheck envelope, but she hadn’t. Then”—Ella leaned forward, placed her hands on her knees in urgency—“and get this, she said she never made a copy because it was so much like one she’d already designed.”
“Oh, she’s evil,” Mimi said with a little hiss behind her words.
Some internal cue brought Bruiser back into the world, and he went off and started barking, still in his sleep almost, only one eye open and a whimpering noise in the back of his throat, and then he was off to sleep again.
Ella exhaled in relief. “Anyway, when she went for her coffee, I had Nadine open the office and I stole it out of a file.”
“Good,” Mimi said with authority. “Very good. Not that I have any right to be, but I am proud of you.”
“Thank you,” Ella said. “So am I. And further, it seems Sims is now jealous. He is asking about the guy who was with me the other night when he saw me. Maybe he’s having … second thoughts.”
“Do you want him back?” Mimi asked. “Really?”
Ella answered so quickly that she surprised herself. “Of course I do. He’s my husband.” Then she paused. “And I love him.”
“Yes. Love.” Mimi looked off toward the window like the word was etched in the grime on the glass.
“Love,” Ella repeated.
“It’s one of those things we put in the gap.” Mimi stood and shuffled over to Bruiser, leaned down, and scratched between his ears. “A gap filler.”
“What?” A soft warm haze settled over Ella: the cake, the bourbon, the stolen sketch. “Love is a gap filler.”
“The hole inside. You know, that place we talked about before—the hole in the soul. The place we are always trying to fill.”
“I don’t know what you mean. I just miss my husband. I miss Sims. It’s like he has his very own empty space inside me. His. Like it belongs to him.” Ella had that feeling again, the helium inside her skull, the heaviness of tears behind her face.
“Well, it’s not just his space. It’s yours. You just put him in there.”
“I didn’t put him anywhere.”
“Listen, Ella, I don’t know a lot, but I know this, everything changes and you can’t stop it. There is nothing, not one thing in the world, you can do to stop turning another day older every day. But there is a bonus, and it’s this: I’ve learned to live with my gap. I wouldn’t trade all those years of looking prettier for what I know how to do now.”
“The gap?”
“The hole. You know. The thing no one talks about. The missing piece inside. The spot inside you’re always trying to fill. It has its purpose. It makes us search for love, for meaning, for something larger than ourselves. But the emptiness also makes us stuff silly things inside.”
Mimi waved her hand through the air. “I know it sounds nutty. I bet a smarter person could explain it better. A psychology book perhaps. I just call it a gap. Every time you try to put something in there, it just falls out the other open side. You can’t keep anything. Nothing stays. It’s all temporary. And when you realize that”—she took a breath as if she had been running while t
alking—“it’s all just a little bit better. You can enjoy everything in a different way.”
“Stop with this, Mimi. Seriously. I didn’t put Sims anywhere. I fell in love with him. I do love him. It’s not an empty space. Or a gap. Or anything of the sort. Stop. Don’t you believe in love at all? Falling in love?” Ella’s frustration, the pent-up bird inside her chest, fluttered.
“Of course I do. I’m sorry, dear. I’m not trying to be flippant.”
“Well, you don’t know him or me really. I shouldn’t have even told you so much. I don’t know why I did.” Ella dropped her face into her hands. “He’s not a gap filler.” Tears filled her eyes and she looked up. “He’s my husband.”
“Well, it’s not something to be taken biblically or anything. It’s just my idea of how we work and how I can be happy and still have this gaping hole inside. It’s always been there. It always will be.”
“Really? Always? That’s ridiculous.”
“Yes. Always. It’s an ache where you want more and more. Nothing is ever enough.”
“Oh.” Ella wanted to stay mad, but something in what Mimi said made sense. She couldn’t find truth’s edges, the shape of it all yet.
“Well, I’m not trying to fill some hole with Sims. I just miss him terribly. Or the Sims that he used to be. That’s all.”
“I know.” Mimi stared off. “Love is always the exception.”
Ella smiled now. “Maybe it’s just an idea anyway. That’s what Hunter said, too. A theory. An idea. Not much more.”
“No,” Mimi said. “It’s real. A real thing that changes everything.”
Ella leaned back in her chair and looked up at the water stain on Mimi’s ceiling. It looked like a butterfly. “I bet that’s from my sink,” she said. “It won’t stop dripping. I’ve called the landlord at least ten times.”
Mimi looked up now also. “Oh, I didn’t even see that. Funny.”
“What?”
“It looks like a butterfly.”
This hit Ella with such relevance, how they both saw the same thing in a stupid water stain. She was awash with the feeling she labeled love and she went to Mimi. She bent over the small woman in the slipper chair and hugged her so hard that Mimi laughed and said, “Ow. You’re gonna crush these old bones.”
The Idea of Love Page 15