A Song in the Daylight (2009)

by Paullina Simons

  Paling, Larissa stepped slightly away from the wrought-iron fence and turned in the direction of the voice.

  It was Kate, Doug’s wife.

  Doug Grant, Jared’s co-worker, accountant, office manager, second financial officer, friend, and there was his wife, on a New York City street, smiling at Larissa, just as it was falling dark and 7:10 and Kai would be upon them any minute.

  “Hi, Kate, what a surprise! What are you doing here?” said Larissa shrilly, stepping forward to kiss her hello.

  “My law firm is on 23rd and Tenth. I walk this way every night to catch the subway.” Kate smiled. “The surprise is to see you here.”

  “Oh, I’m—I just got my hair done.”

  “I was going to say it looks smashing.”

  “Thanks. So how are the kids?” Larissa desperately tried not to fidget.

  “Good, everybody is good.” Kate looked Larissa over. “All of you is looking pretty smashing tonight,” the woman said. “I’m impressed. You dress like this to get your hair done?”

  Larissa laughed loudly. “You’re funny. So how’s Douglas?”

  “He’s great.” Kate rolled her eyes.

  “And the new car? You enjoying it?” Larissa willed herself not to turn to the busy street to scan the crowds of faces. Maybe he would be a few minutes delayed and Kate would leave soon. Maybe, maybe, maybe…

  “The new car is all the rage. It was supposed to be for me, except I never see it. Doug takes it everywhere, like a purse.”

  Larissa fake laughed again. “You must put your foot down. I didn’t even know you worked in the city, Kate.”

  “Of course you did. You just forgot. Legal secretary. Been with the same firm fifteen years. Any minute now I’m going to get a gold watch.”

  “Hey, better than a golden handshake. And who takes care of the kiddies while you’re away?”

  “Oh, we have a lady from Nepal. She’s our third one. We like the Nepalese. The language skills aren’t great, but they’re wonderful with babies.”

  Larissa tried hard not to glance down the street, not to look for him, not to look like she was about to have a heart attack, fall down. She stepped closer to the fence, to grasp one of the wrought-iron poles in her cold white hand.

  “Are you taking the train back?” asked Kate.

  “I am, yes.”

  “Great. You want to walk to Penn? It’s not too cold out. We can bundle up, burn off a little lunch, ride home together.”

  “Um, yes, that would be wonderful…I meant I’m taking the train later. I’d love to walk with you, but the thing is, I’m meeting a friend for dinner.”

  “Oh.” Buttoning up her big down coat, Kate smiled at Larissa’s black shiny boots. “Well, listen, the four of us must go out to dinner and spend all evening arguing about the various merits of our respective Jag models.”

  “Yes, let’s,” said Larissa. “There’s supposed to be a great Italian place in Madison.”

  “Madison? A little far, but okay. Doug will be happy to drive, no doubt.” They kissed, they hugged, and Kate was about to walk away from Larissa when she said, “Kai? Kai Passani?”

  Oh my God. She knew him! Of course. He sold Doug and Kate their Jaguar. What a nightmare.

  Larissa was forced on a darkened street to endure watching Kai shake Kate’s hand, express surprise at seeing her, and answer her exclamations.

  “Yes, nice to see you, too. Oh, you’re welcome for the car. My pleasure. Thank you for the Cristal. Much appreciated. Yes, of course; I put it to very good use. What? Oh, just meeting up with a couple of friends. And how are you enjoying your new vehicle, Mrs. Grant?”

  Kate spent three minutes telling Kai how much her husband was enjoying her new vehicle, and all the while Kai expressed vocal amusement while Larissa stood nearby and pretended she didn’t know either of them, didn’t speak English, was like the lady from Nepal, just standing on the corner, waiting for the truck to run her over or take her back to the old country.

  “I’m sorry, how rude of me. Kai, do you remember Larissa Stark? You sold her a convertible!” Kate was ebullient. “She’s the reason we came to see you. The way she raves about that vehicle.”

  “Well, she’s right to. It is a fine car indeed,” Kai said, slightly tilting his head to Larissa. “Nice to see you again, Mrs. Stark.”

  “Yes, you too,” said Larissa, barely moving her numb lips.

  The three of them stood for a long moment, and Kai said, “Well, ladies, have a wonderful evening. Enjoy your cars.” He bowed his head to Kate and walked past Larissa, who clenched her mouth in mute acknowledgment of his passing her by, but didn’t otherwise allow herself even a blink at his leather jacket, at his jeans, at the profound look of condemnation and distress in his eyes as he walked by her, not six inches away from her on a busy street, turned his body toward her instead of away from her to pass, and said, “Excuse me,” in a bark too cold and clipped for a stranger, while Larissa stood motionless, speechless, but when she turned her head to wave goodbye to Kate, she caught the woman watching them, and there was an odd glint in Kate’s frowning puzzled expression, imperceptible if only it weren’t so tangible, like a darkening realization of something untoward and electric right in front of her tired eyes.

  Larissa did the only thing left to her. She had to deny Kai. She had to deny him with all her heart.

  “Kate, wait!” Hurrying, Larissa caught up with her. “Can you hang on a sec?”

  “I’m going to miss my train,” Kate said coolly.

  “Yeah, just a sec. I don’t know why, but my friend is not showing up. She’s a half-hour late. And she’s not answering her cell. I wonder if she got held up or something. Hang on, okay, I’m going to check my messages.”

  Silently, Kate waited. Larissa checked her fake messages on her real phone. “Can you believe it,” she said, tutting. “I’ve been standing here like a fool for thirty minutes, and she’d called at six to say she couldn’t make it. Damn. You mind if I walk with you? Maybe we can take that train back home together after all.”

  That seemed to deflate the balloon of suspicion inside Kate Grant, because she smiled and relaxed, looking noticeably relieved. They started walking toward Seventh Avenue without giving Kai another backward glance. And Larissa, falling inside, horrified for him, for herself, for her own fucked-up, slowly unraveling life, could only imagine what Kai must have been thinking as he stood on the street watching her walk away.

  They caught the 8:02. It was thirty-three excruciating minutes to Maplewood, forty-five to Summit. They sat by the window across from each other and chatted, and when fifteen minutes had passed, Kate tittered nervously. “You want to know how silly I am? You know when we were standing there, and we ran into our car salesman…”

  “Yeah?”

  “I don’t know, it’s almost funny now, oh, it’s so dumb, but for a second, as he walked past you, I saw him look at you like he knew you.”

  “Who?”

  “The Jag salesman.”

  “Well, he does know me,” said Larissa. “He sold me the car.”

  “No, I know. But there was something else in how close he walked by you. I mean he looked at you like he knew you.”

  “On a crowded rush-hour city street?”

  “Exactly! But you didn’t move away, you see. You didn’t even step away.” Kate giggled. “I think I’ve watched too many Days of our Lives in my youth. For a minute there, I could’ve sworn you were meeting him for dinner, the way he walked by you, staring so intensely into your face. And you wouldn’t even lift your eyes to him. Watching it from the outside, it was really quite a stunning moment. Glowing with possibilities.”

  Larissa giggled herself. “Kate, that’s quite an imagination you’ve got there. You should be a writer.”

  “Really? Funny you should say that. I have been dabbling a bit…”

  “Have you? Why don’t you tell me about it.”

  Kate beamed, and was off non-stop for the next ten minutes unt
il Maplewood when Larissa kissed her goodbye.

  She couldn’t get a signal on the train, but as soon as she was at her car in Summit, she called Kai. He didn’t pick up. She left a message. “I’m so, so sorry,” she said. “Please forgive me.”

  She texted him.

  There was no answer.

  She sat in her car with her head on the wheel. Two more trains came.

  Then she drove home. Drove slow like the mob were waiting for her, having accused her of breaking the law of omerta, about to dip her feet in liquid cement and after it had hardened, throw her into the Passaic River.

  “Emily! Have you practiced your cello?” she barked as soon as she came inside and found the children in the den playing video games and watching TV.

  “Um, no.”

  Larissa slapped off the TV. “You know the rules. You don’t sit down until all the work is done. Go practice. I knew you were going to take advantage of your dad. Go!”

  “I was watching Michelangelo for you!” Emily yelled. “I was babysitting! How am I supposed to practice when I’m playing trucks with him?”

  “Always with your excuses!” Larissa yelled. “How do I manage to cook dinner and clean the kitchen, and help you with your homework and Asher with his while I’m playing trucks with Michelangelo? Go, I said. I don’t want to hear anything but sounds of cello for the next thirty minutes!”

  Emily stomped off. Asher sat at the computer desk quiet as a mouse. Michelangelo came and hugged Larissa around the leg. This was all before she took off her coat. Jared silently watched her from the entrance to the kitchen.

  “Well, hello to you, too,” he said.

  “Hello. But you know she is supposed to practice her cello.”

  “I don’t know what she did and didn’t do before I got home.”

  “You have no right to be that oblivious. She’s got her winter concert next week.” She stormed past him.

  “Well, maybe you shouldn’t be gallivanting around New York when your children need you,” Jared said, following her into the kitchen. “I don’t know what’s going on. I barely remembered to bring home pizza. Good thing Em called to remind me.”

  But Larissa had stopped listening. “Asher! How many times do I have to tell you—after you’re done with your homework put your damn books away.”

  “I just got done.”

  “So put them away! Don’t wait for me to yell at you. Just do it!”

  “I put my books away, Mommy,” said Michelangelo.

  “Well, you’re a good boy,” she said. “But I did notice that you didn’t put your trucks away after you were done playing with them. You know the rules. Done with something? Put it away.” She grabbed on to the side of the counter to steady herself.

  “I wasn’t done playing with them,” the boy said.

  “Well, I suggest you get to it. It’s bath in five minutes.”

  “I’ll give him a bath,” said Jared staring at her coldly. “You get yourself sorted out.”

  But there was no sorting herself out.

  Kai told her. It’s not that she didn’t listen. It’s that there was nothing she could do then, or now. In one minute, the life she was living, the entire house was going to come crashing down on her head if she didn’t find a way to get herself together.

  Funny thing about righteous anger, righteous frustration at the impossibility of the way things are, of wanting to change them and being unable to, of wanting to scream her love from the rooftops and being unable to, of wanting to be free, and being unable to be. Of wanting and wanting and wanting, and being constantly thwarted, of being desperately afraid, the vigilance of every day taking the toll on her nerve endings. She stood in her kitchen being blackened in ways she did not expect. She felt her vision go blank, her legs go slack. What’s happening? Am I fainting?

  And the next thing she knew she was down on the kitchen floor, opening her eyes and Jared kneeling over her.

  He helped her up, got her to the bar stool, got her some water. “What’s the matter? You’re not well? I knew it as soon as you came in. You looked terrible. You must be getting sick.”

  “Looked terrible?” Larissa held her head, which was hurting, but not as much as her sore heart was hurting. “Do you not see me? Do you not see my hair, my boots, my sweater? Do you not see my hair? Looked terrible? What are you talking about?”

  “Come on, you know what I mean. I can’t see past you falling faint on the floor, okay? To me that’s not a woman who’s feeling well.”

  “I may not feel well,” she said through gritted teeth. “But to you that’s how I look, too?”

  He began to speak to defend himself, but Larissa cut him off. Cut him off or tuned him out. She was so tired of living like this. She thought she could do it, juggle it all; after all, that’s what mothers did. They multi-tasked to the max, no one could juggle life as well as a mother, and yet the balls seemed to be at her feet at the moment, except for the lead ones in her gutted stomach. She thought she could do the kids, and keep the house, and cook and shop, and prepare Saint Joan, and open Godot, and go out with reasonable people, get her nails done and her hair, buy clothes for her growing family, entertain in her beautiful home, schedule activities for the weekend, little trips out, big vacations, do all this but keep the core of her life, the love of her life, preserved on Albright Circle like a dragonfly in amber, pristine, unbroken, untouched by misfortune. Kai said he was okay with it, and she was relieved, because she wanted him to be okay with it. They had so few options. It was the status quo or it was nothing.

  But something had broken inside her. To leave Kai in the middle of the street, having deliberately gotten him out there, having had him pass three inches away from her breast, to set him up just to reject him, to betray him, it screamed injustice to her so loudly that she could not endure another second of Jared’s solicitous face. Now he was solicitous! She had treated Kai poorly. And when you treat people you adore poorly what’s left? What does your life mean when you can’t even be good to the ones you can’t live without?

  What if he got fed up? What if he said, I’ve had enough.

  Frankly, that’s the only reaction Larissa expected from a young man left on a street corner by his dreadful married lover. He knew he would never come first. Not second. Not even a distant third. On street corners, he couldn’t even place. He was not a qualifier.

  How long could Kai put up with this? She didn’t think much past tonight.

  “Excuse me,” she said faintly to Jared, moving past. “I’m not feeling well. Suddenly I feel as awful as I look.” Larissa didn’t know what to do. Not only had she no answers, she was out of questions. But this is what she knew. If tomorrow when she came to grovel to Kai, he said to her, I cannot do this anymore, she would be finished. There was no more life for her except with him. Whatever was going to happen, one thing that could not happen was she could not lose him. That she knew. That was the one true thing. Everything else was on the negotiating table.

  She went upstairs, into Emily’s room, sat down heavily on her bed, asked her about her day, her science quiz, her book project and listened to her play Dvorak’s Humoresque. She went into Asher’s room, told him to turn down the stereo and go have a shower before bed, walked past the bathroom where Jared was giving Michelangelo a bath, thought of coming in because she loved seeing her little boy all soapy wet and happily playing, but just then remembered that she left her purse downstairs, and in it the cell phone, and what if Jared looked through her purse concerned about his wife’s peculiar behavior, and found the phone? As she trudged back downstairs, to throw out yet another pre-paid cell phone, she miserably thought I wouldn’t care if he found it. I want him to find it, I want to have it out, I want something to change. I’m with Bo on this one. I can’t do this anymore.

  When she took out the cell phone, there was nothing from Kai.

  She went outside, by the bushes in her back yard, and called him. He picked up this time.

  “I’m so sorry,
” she said. She started to cry.

  “Calm down,” said Kai. His voice was cold. “Are you home?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t do this. Get yourself together. Don’t…it’s fine. I’m a big boy. I can take it. Just calm down.”

  “Oh, Kai.”

  “Hang up, go tend to your family.”

  “Kai…”

  “Larissa, stop. Remember, no man knows what he is going to do until he is faced with it. Now I’m faced with it. But if you don’t get yourself together, are you sure you’re ready to find out tonight if Jared is merely a sitting and wailing Jonny or perhaps something else?”

  Larissa fell mute. They hung up.

  She dropped the phone deep inside the Hefty bag in the outside trash, cleaned up her face and went back inside. Jared was in the kitchen. “What were you doing out there?” he asked.

  “Throwing crap out,” snapped Larissa. “I’m not happy with you, Jared.”

  “What did I do? Did I not play my cello?”

  “Go ahead, make fun of me raising my kids,” said Larissa. “Jared, every single day you get to come home late if you need to, early if you want to, you get to go out with clients to dinner, you never have to worry about a thing. I ask for one evening every six weeks to go do my fucking hair in the city, and you give me shit over it.”

  “I didn’t give you shit.”

  “Oh, no?” She mimicked him. “Why don’t you just do it during the day, why don’t you do it with Kim?”

  “Well, why don’t you?”

  “Because I don’t want to! Because I want one evening every month where I go to the city and have my hair done by a guy who got written up in Allure, and then have a little dinner, and maybe go to a movie, or go to Barnes and Noble. Why is that so hard to accept? Why do I always have to fit my life into a little snippet of time you allot me? Jared, I’m scheduled up the ass, I live and die by the clock.”