“Happy birthday to you.”
***
LEAVING ON A JET PLANE
As the month of June progressed, it became harder and harder to be around Richard—and it was obvious he was making the time to be with me. He had a master plan that he thought included me, and he was happy about it. I had a plan that didn’t include him and I was absolutely miserable. And I’d make him miserable when I revealed it to him, too, because I knew I was blowing something that was just starting to get good. But I was committed. I’d made a terrible mistake, but I was stuck.
Time had just about run out when my high school graduation day arrived. Richard and Curtis came to the ceremony; both seemed proud of me. I think that was the first time in my life I felt like I had family who actually cared about me. Dressed in my cap and gown, I forced smiles for pictures, and then the three of us went out for a celebratory dinner. Just us guys.
It was great.
The Monday morning after graduation, I sat in the kitchen sipping coffee, waiting for Richard to stagger in from his shift at the hospital. I had already quit my two jobs and had my plane reservation. I had an appointment to arrive at Fort Gordon the next day. It was time to finally tell Richard.
He looked exhausted, and practically fell into one of the chairs at the kitchen table. “I can’t believe I only have one more week to go until I get to start living a normal life,” Richard said as Doris swooped in with the cup of cocoa she usually had waiting for him.
“Thanks,” Richard said gratefully. “Where’s Curtis?”
“Driving old man Alpert into the office.”
Richard took a sip of his cocoa and I turned to look at the witch at the sink. “Doris, Richard and I need to talk. Could you give us a few minutes?” I asked.
Old grumpy looked startled, but nodded and headed out of the kitchen and into the corridor, although I was sure she wouldn’t go far and would probably repeat everything she heard to Mrs. Alpert. At that point, I didn’t give a shit.
Richard frowned. “I don’t like the sound of this.”
“No, you’re not going to like it,” I said and swallowed. “First off, I want to say thank you. It wasn’t fair of our mother to ask, and you went above and beyond the call to look after me these last few years.”
“Hey, I was happy to do it,” he said, but we both knew that wasn’t true.
“The thing is … as much as I’d love to go to California with you, I can’t.”
“What do you mean?” he asked. Did I detect fear in his voice?
“I didn’t know about your plans until it was too late. You see, an army recruiter came to school—”
“Oh, God, Jeff—please don’t tell me you signed up.”
I nodded. “Right on my birthday.”
“But we have grandfather’s law firm behind us. We could have gotten you out of it.”
My eyes started to well, but I was determined not to cry. “If you’d told me what you had in mind….” A huge lump formed in my throat, and I couldn’t finish the sentence.
“Maybe we can still—”
I held up a hand to stop him. “No. I made a decision—and as wrong as it now seems, I have to live by it. Our mom may have been an alcoholic, but one thing she taught me was to live with integrity; even if I make bad decisions, I have to live with them.”
It was Richard’s turn to tear up. “This is not what I wanted for you. I wanted so much more.” He took a breath as a tear cascaded down his cheek.
“I didn’t know how to tell you, and so I figured I had to wait until almost the last minute.” I felt close to tears, but I sucked it up and swallowed them down.
“When are you leaving?”
“My flight takes off at eleven. I was hoping you might be able to drive me to the airport. If not, maybe your grandmother will let Curtis do it when he gets back. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to do anything she can to speed up my exit.”
“Of course I’ll drive you,” he said, ignoring my slur against his grandmother, his voice cracking. “I just wish things were different.”
“Yeah, me, too.”
Richard sipped his cocoa and I sipped the last of my coffee.
“Is there anything you need?” he asked at last, his moustache drooping.
“Remember when you first picked me up at the old apartment and I didn’t have a suitcase?”
He nodded.
“I still don’t.”
He shook his head sadly. “I can give you one. Do you need help packing?”
“I don’t have much to take.”
He let out a shaky breath, but didn’t say anything.
There didn’t seem to be a lot more to say.
I got up and took our empty cups over to the sink and rinsed them out, and then we went upstairs. It only took me ten minutes to pack.
#
Tired as he was, Richard drove home from the airport on autopilot. He kept playing and replaying the scene in the passenger lounge before Jeff got on the plane. They didn’t talk at all. Didn’t look at each other. When the flight was called, they’d stood.
“Thanks again for . . .” Jeff said and paused, “everything.” He held out his hand to shake Richard’s, but instead was grabbed in a fierce hug.
“I love you, kid,” Richard managed to croak in his ear.
Saddled with a carry-on bag, Jeff didn’t hug him back. When Richard let go, Jeff bolted for the Jetway. Yet at the last second, he turned back, nodded, and gave him a perfunctory wave. Then he was gone.
All of a sudden, Richard realized he was in front of the driveway and pulled in, but he couldn’t put the car away. Gordie stood on a ladder in the middle of the three-car garage, a screwdriver in hand, taking down the backboard for the basketball hoop.
Livid, Richard exited the car, slamming its door. “Hey, what are you doing?”
“Got orders to take this down and toss it in the trash.”
“Orders from whom?” Richard asked angrily.
“Mrs. A. Least, that’s what Doris said.”
And Richard didn’t doubt it for a minute. He swallowed several times. Never had he been so angry. He watched as another screw was removed, and then another. Then, without a word, he turned, got back into his car, started it, and backed out of the driveway. For a while he just drove, too upset to think coherently. Jeff had barely been gone an hour, but his grandmother had been determined to erase any sign that he’d lived under their roof for more than three years. All Richard could think of was how alone he now was. Very much alone, and he hated it.
It wasn’t long before he found himself back at the Buffalo International Airport and he realized what it was that had lured him back.
Stowing the car in the long-term parking lot, he headed for the nearest airline desk and waited his turn in line.
“May I help you, sir?” asked a pretty young woman in a blue uniform skirt and jacket, crisp white blouse, and a jaunty red scarf tied at her neck.
“I’d like to buy a ticket to Memphis.”
She consulted her computer screen. “You’re in luck. We’ve got a non-stop flight taking off in ninety minutes, but I’m afraid we only have first class seats available.”
“That’ll be fine,” Richard said and reached for his wallet.
#
Clear air turbulence made the flight uncomfortable for most of the passengers, but Richard barely noticed the plane jostling around the sky. He stared out the window, watching the ground passing below them and wondered what he’d say to Cathy when he showed up on her doorstep.
They’d talked on the phone a few times since she’d left nearly four months before. She was happy in her new job, liked her new apartment, was making friends at the hospital. Life was good.
Until that morning, he’d thought his life was good, too. He’d been full of plans for his new life, but now he wanted to abort that mission. He felt like he was foundering and that only Cathy could put him back on course. He should have realized it months before. He never should have let
her go.
As if she would have stayed.
He could find a job in Memphis. Maybe working in the same hospital as Cathy.
And hating it.
Memphis was a big city. Surely he could find some kind of job where he could use his medical degree but not be involved in direct patient care. He hadn’t admitted it to anyone, but after next week, he never wanted to go back to that kind of work. He liked the patients, but he didn’t like it when their outcomes weren’t good. When people didn’t follow orders; when they didn’t heal; when they died. A hands-off job would better suit him, and the hours would be far better, too. That’s why the job in Pasadena had been so attractive to him. Research. His favorite part of his journey to earn his MD had been the bookwork, learning it all; actually putting it into practice had never been all that attractive.
All of a sudden the ground seemed to be rushing toward the plane and it tapped the ground twice before touching down on the tarmac. He might miss the worst of rush hour by the time he rented a car and asked directions to get to Cathy’s apartment. If she wasn’t there, he was sure he’d be able to find the hospital and track her down. Because it suddenly occurred to him what he should say upon seeing her: Marry me. They could figure out the details later.
He should have brought flowers, he realized as he hurried up the stairs to the second floor apartment. He rounded the landing and paused. Apartment C was on the left. He stepped up to the door, took a deep breath, and knocked.
No answer. Cathy was probably at work. He could have called, but he hadn’t wanted to spoil the surprise.
He knocked again.
This time footsteps approached the door.
He was ready. This was it.
The door burst open and.…
“Can I help you?”
Richard started at the tall man before him sporting a five o’clock shadow, sweat-stained T-shirt, and boxers.
“I’m sorry. I must have the wrong apartment. I’m looking for Cathy Garner.”
“She’s working second shift at the hospital. Are you a friend of hers?”
“Yeah. Name’s Richard Alpert. We were friends in Buffalo.”
The guy smiled. “She speaks about you often. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to see you. Are you here on a business trip or something?”
“Something like that. Have you known Cathy long?”
“Met her on her first day at St. Jude’s. We started going out a week later.”
She hadn’t waited long to find someone else, while for months Richard had been pining for her.
The man offered his hand. “Dan Lawson. I’m a pediatric oncologist.” They shook on it. “Cathy said you were about to finish your residency.”
“Yeah. I’m days away from it as a matter of fact,” Richard said and forced a laugh.
“Did you come down for a job interview?” Dan asked.
“No, nothing like that. Family business. I just thought it might be nice to see Cathy and catch up on things.”
“She’s gets out at midnight—if there isn’t a crisis.”
Richard shook his head. “I’ve got a flight to catch back to Buffalo.”
“She’ll be sorry she missed you. Do you want me to give her a message?”
Richard let out a breath and forced a smile. “Just that I stopped by to say hello.”
“I’d be glad to,” Dan said.
Richard took a step back. “I’d better get going if I’m going to get to the airport in time for my flight. It was nice meeting you.”
“You, too.” Dan nodded and closed the apartment door.
Richard slowly descended the stairs, feeling like he’d just been kicked in the gut. He exited the building and headed for the rental car. What a stupid move it had been to jump on a plane and come down here. Stupider to think Cathy hadn’t moved on with her life.
He drove back to the airport in a daze.
There were no flights to Buffalo until the next day. Two hours later, he was on a flight to Cleveland. It didn’t get in until nearly midnight, and he decided he’d rent a car and drive back home—screw the drop-off charge.
The plane flew over the darkened landscape. The lights from towns and cities below seemed to twinkle magically, but he felt no enjoyment looking at them. Tomorrow Jeff would be inducted into the Army. Tomorrow Cathy would wake up in Dan Lawson’s arms. Tomorrow he’d be back at the hospital for one of his last shifts. The job in Pasadena beckoned but he was no longer eager to go.
He let out a breath as the fasten seat belt light came on and he stared at the lights of Cleveland below.
He concentrated on thoughts of the future, eager to put the shittiest day of his life behind him.
***
SLEEP’S DARK AND SILENT GATE
Never in my wildest imaginings did I think that one day I’d consult a shrink. Shrink? I’ve never even had a primary care physician, despite the fact my brother has an MD behind his name. But for the first time in my life, I wasn’t able to submerge my feelings. Feelings that were crushing me—threatening to kill me.
That said, I only managed to last two sessions before I knew she’d never be able to help me. She wanted to dig deep into my past, but I wasn’t about to go there. It wasn’t the past that was bothering me, although she disagreed.
Before I left her office that last time, she suggested I write down my experiences and that maybe it would help me since I couldn’t begin to talk about it. So, new notebook, new pen. Here goes.
I’ve never been particularly fond of the month of March, probably because my mother died during that month. Since then, I’ve always seen it as a bad-luck time of year. But then, I’d never really had any good luck. Somehow events I thought might bode well always seemed to sour. Like my marriage.
Shelley Malone worked for Midtown Travel in Manhattan. I had a job interview in Indianapolis and needed to make reservations for a plane trip, hotel, and car rental. Shelley’s voice had a funny kind of raspiness to it—what my mother had called a whiskey voice. I found it intriguing. Upon my return from the trip, I decided to check out Ms. Malone. As a trained investigator, I considered it a piece of cake. I staked out her office late one afternoon and followed her home. Did that make me a stalker? I didn’t think so, as I had no ulterior motive except to meet her in person. But then my social skills aren’t exactly top notch, so I needed to find out more about her to figure out if she might go for a guy like me. The next evening, I managed to bump into her as she left work for the day. I apologized profusely and introduced myself.
“The same Jeff Resnick who booked a flight with me last week?” she asked.
“Do you work for Midtown Travel?” I asked with feigned awe.
“Yes! Isn’t that a coincidence that we should meet in person?”
“In a city this big? It’s got to be kismet,” I said. “Are you doing anything this evening?”
She hesitated before answering. “You aren’t some kind of serial killer, are you?”
“No, ma’am, I’m certainly not. But if you’d like to call a friend to tell her where you’re going and with whom, I promise I won’t be offended.”
She smiled and didn’t make that call.
We had drinks at a quiet bar nearby and traded stories. Then she went her way and I went mine. But she gave me her number to call again. I waited two interminable days before I did. After our third date, Ms. Malone and I became intimately acquainted.
Six months later, we were married in a civil ceremony; me with my brown suit, and she in a low-cut pink sheath and a bouquet of ivory roses. Two friends from work stood up for us. We honeymooned in Vermont.
That first year together was the happiest time of my life. We cooked together, took weekend trips to the Jersey shore or the Green Mountains of Vermont, and made plans for the future. On the top of our to-do list was purchasing a house, and then filling it with a couple of kids—everything I’d never had growing up. I even had a chance to introduce my new bride to my brother and his significant other. The
y were in town on business, and Richard was eager to reconnect. It was only the third time I’d seen him since I’d left home fourteen years before.
Something odd happened when I met Brenda Stanley, and I’m not sure how to explain it, but it was when she gave me an introductory hug. I got this really weird feeling that I’d known her before, and yet I somehow knew we’d never met and, of course, her face was unfamiliar to me. I was a bit surprised that Richard was with a black woman, but then there was something about her that made me think he must be the luckiest guy on the planet to have her in his corner. And then I looked at Shelley and her bright smile made me think otherwise.
Oh, how I wish I could return to that day when the four of us seemed so happy. When Shelley and I were happy … because not long after, things began to sour.
I’d been sent to San Diego—a business trip that was supposed to last just two days. But two days morphed into two weeks and when I returned home, Shelley wasn’t there to greet me. At first I thought she might be having dinner with a friend, but when midnight rolled around and she still hadn’t returned home, I started to panic.
Shelley finally staggered home at dawn, as high as a kite and crashed before I could get a coherent explanation of where she’d been—or with whom—and what she’d been doing. I had a damn good idea what she’d been up to, but I had to go to work. When I returned that night, Shelley was Shelley again. She’d said she’d had dinner with friends and they’d smoked some weed and she’d lost track of time. She kissed me and promised it wouldn’t happen again … until it did two weeks later.
This time I’d been sent to Boston. I was only gone a day, but when I returned it was Act II and Shelley pulled another disappearing act, coming home wasted in the wee hours and missing another day of work.
“Who are you hanging with?” I asked, unable to keep the anger from my voice and afraid to hear the worst.
“Just a couple of girls from the office. They like to party. What’s wrong with that?”
“What’s wrong is you keep missing work. If you’re not careful, you could get fired.”
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