by Portia Moore
“No, today’s my night off. But yesterday I was. I restocked the bar, had to help clean the stock room… watched an innocent man get punched in the face over the stunt you pulled with my cell phone the other night.” I chuckle.
“Really? This is a first, me causing a fight I didn’t get to be in. Well, maybe next time.” He laughs. “And you said I was trouble. It seems trouble follows you, Ms. Brooks.”
“Ha-ha,” I say dryly.
“Listen, if you’re not too busy breaking up fights around Chicago, I wanted to ask if you were going to the AIC opening Saturday?”
It takes me a few seconds to register he’s talking about the Chicago Museum’s eightieth anniversary charity ball. I wish I were, but unfortunately, it’s an exclusive, invitation-only event. It’s the only thing my classmates have been talking about the past month. They’re furious that Crestfield Industries, one of the largest companies founded in Chicago, weaseled their way into sponsoring the event and privatized the entire affair.
“I wish. It’s invitation-only.” Too bad I’m not rich or famous, since those were the people on the invite list.
“Well, I guess you’re going to have to come with me.” He sighs.
“Wait. Are you telling me you have an invitation?” I ask, my voice rising with excitement. I hear him laughing. “How did you get that? You’re not screwing with me, are you, Cal?” I don’t want to sound like an art geek, but attending would be an absolute dream come true.
“We’re on the phone, you know—what would be the fun in that?” His voice deepens with insinuation, making my skin tingle.
“I would love to go!”
“I’ll have you picked up at eight,” he says.
Have me picked up? Is he not coming? “You aren’t picking me up?” I ask.
“Well, I’m in New York, and I won’t be getting back until that night, so I’ll have a limo pick you up, then it’ll swing by the airport to get me. Is that okay?” he says.
Of course it’s okay. I’m going to the Chicago Museum’s anniversary ball! “Yes, it’s perfect. I can’t wait!” I really should tone down my enthusiasm just a few notches.
“Look, I’ve got to go. But I’ve been thinking about you, Lauren…” He quietly trails off.
I grip the phone a little tighter, feeling my heart rate speed up. I didn’t expect to hear that from him. “I-I’ve been thinking about you too, Cal.”
“Good,” he says. I can hear the smile in his voice, and one spreads across my face as well.
After I hang up the phone, I twirl around like a seven-year-old on Christmas. I rush to my closet and start to rummage around, hoping there’s something there. I don’t even know if I’m going to be able to get off work. I’ll have to trade shifts or something.
I sigh, disappointed with the contents of my wardrobe. Jeans, jeans, and more jeans, along with a few dresses I used to be able to wear to work. Nothing seems worthy of the occasion. I come to the conclusion that I’ll have to buy something. I have a Visa card for emergencies with a couple hundred dollars I’ve never used. Cal has been thinking about me! I want to make sure my dress leaves a lasting impression.
I wonder if he’s been thinking about me as much as I’ve been thinking about him. I rush to the door, ready to tell Hillary all the details. Then I remember her telling me to keep it simple and fun with him, and the thought stops me in my tracks.
What if Hillary is right? He said he was thinking about me. He didn’t say in what way. I ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach. Well, right now it doesn’t matter; it’s just a date to one of my favorite places on earth, and on the arm of an incredibly handsome man. And here I am trying to find something wrong with it. I’m not going to let anyone ruin this for me, not even myself.
May 5th 2011
May 5th, 2011
“Saginaw, Michigan.” I can’t help but feel a little nostalgic as I read the sign welcoming me back to my hometown. It’s as if I’m watching a home movie, picking up random memories as I drive.
The last time I was here was right after Cal and I got married. I sigh while driving past the endless rows of cornfields. In fifteen minutes, I’ll be on my aunt’s doorstep, lying about why I’m there and putting up with her well-meaning bullshit. Well, maybe ten if I rush it, but speeding through Saginaw in an Audi isn’t the best idea.
When I come to a stop sign, I riffle around in my purse for my cell phone before I remember I dropped it out the window. My stomach’s growling. I’ve only eaten a bagel all day, and that was four long hours ago. I see a gas station a few blocks down and decide to stop for a bite.
After I park, I turn off my car and lock the door. Even though there’s really no need to lock it, living in Chicago has changed my habits. Walking in, my eyes gravitate to my favorite strawberry shortcake roll-up. I grab it, walk to the counter, and wait for the clerk to come to the front. She approaches the counter with a warm smile, reminding me of the friendliness of Saginaw.
“Good afternoon. Is this all you’ll be having?” she asks.
“Yes, that’s all.” I smile and hand her a dollar.
She puts it in the register and hands me back a quarter. “Have a nice day.”
“You too,” I tell her, leaving the store while opening the wrapper of the cake.
I break off a piece and pop it in my mouth before stuffing the rest in my purse and getting into the car. As I drive off, my thoughts drift to Cal. I wonder what he’s doing right now. He’s probably pissed, or maybe he isn’t. Maybe he doesn’t care that I left. I’m usually clueless as to how he feels.
I hate the fact that I’m thinking about him at all or even considering his feelings. I shouldn’t, but how do you stop loving someone in an instant? It’s almost ludicrous how many times I’ve tried to do that. It never works because the feelings just pop right back to the surface moments after my anger has subsided. It would be so much easier if he weren’t so complicated. Cal is the most complex person I’ve ever met. He always has this air of mystery to him, which is beyond frustrating after all these years, but that’s what attracted me to him.
When I moved to Chicago, it was a totally different world from Saginaw. In my hometown, almost everyone knew each other, or at least of each other. I had grown up with most of the guys I went to high school with, so I never had the excitement of meeting a new person or having to learn about someone from scratch.
When I transferred to my school in Chicago during sophomore year, it was like the men there could smell fresh meat. I was asked out by so many different types of guys, especially when I started working at the club. Some had tattoos and piercings, others wore expensive suits and glasses. Black, white, tall, short, it was so much to take in.
Thankfully, I had Angela and Hillary to guide me through the dating scene, which got old really quickly. I started to miss the familiarity of Saginaw. I ended up only kind of dating Steven, who is now a really good friend, and Michael, who turned out to be the exact guy I should have been avoiding—good-looking, closeted douchebag. Other than him being attractive, I think it was the familiarity of working around him that made me convince myself there was something there that wasn’t.
There was always something missing, and whatever it was, Cal had more than enough of it. He has always had this way of exuding sexy confidence without appearing conceited, a way of making mundane things seem exciting and new, so Cal has been my gift and my curse. Curse more often than gift, I suppose. When we first met, I couldn’t have known I was only scratching the surface of the mystery of Cal, an enigma in himself. Unfortunately, one I still haven’t solved.
I always pictured him being the man I wanted him to be, yet now I wonder, is it fair to hold against him that he’s not meeting my expectation of the husband he should be? I assumed after marriage he’d open up, let me know the secrets hidden behind his smile, that I’d understand why, when we’re alone, his presence is peaceful, but when I look into his eyes, I see something completely different. I thought I would get answers
to all of these questions when we married. I was wrong.
I arrive at my aunt’s house, and memories instantly flood in. I remember Raven walking out onto the porch, successfully ruining the good night kiss at the end of my very first date. She cleared her throat and stared at me until all I could do was kiss him on the cheek and say, “Good night.”
I laugh now, but in that moment, I was angry and embarrassed. She was both sweet and sour, playing mom and dad to me. She had never wanted kids but did a better job than she could have imagined. She always made sure to let me know how much my parents loved me and how proud they’d be of me.
Raven never married, so I’ve never felt comfortable asking for advice about my own marriage. I often wonder what advice my mother would give about Cal and me. My dad would probably wring his neck for the stress he gives me.
I turn off the car and grab my purse, step out, and head toward the porch. I leave the suitcase because I really don’t feel like getting the third degree at the moment. I’ll find a way to slip it in later on during a conversation. I’m sure I’ll get an opening. “Lauren, I found the most wonderful sweater,” she’ll tell me, then I’ll say, “Oh really, because I have a ton of sweaters in the car, since I’m leaving my husband.” Yep, it’ll be really simple, really quick. I ring the doorbell and check my appearance in my reflection in the window, making sure I look presentable. Raven always stresses that if the day is bad, you have to dress better to hide it.
I ring the doorbell again, this time adding a knock. I still have a spare set of keys, but I don’t want to intrude. It doesn’t seem like she’s home. I take a seat on the top step of the porch. She’s probably gone shopping, hopefully not for clothes because that could take hours. I’m really regretting that little fit of rage that sent my phone over the balcony railing this morning. I look at my watch, realizing it’s only one o’clock. Raven could be out all day.
I decide to go ahead and let myself in rather than wait on the front porch like a FedEx package. I find the spare set of keys at the bottom of my purse and open the door. As I step inside, the radio is on, and I can’t help but smile. Ever since I can remember, 91.3 has been Raven’s favorite radio station and it plays a constant soundtrack in the house. I lock the door behind me and set my purse on the table. This place still brings me comfort—a real home rather than just a residence, which is how I feel about the penthouse. I walk upstairs to my old bedroom. Another smile spreads across my face as I walk into the room, still the same way I left it. I sit on the bed and breathe deep as I face the window and let the sunshine wash over me through the curtains. On my dresser sit awards, ribbons, and medals aligned in the same places they were in when I was in high school.
There is one new addition though. My eyes glide over to my wedding photo with Cal, and I feel a sense of jealousy toward my past self. The couple in the picture no longer exists; they are light years from where Cal and I are now. I pick it up and turn it downward. If only I could see into the future. A door shuts downstairs; Raven must be home.
I give myself a little pep talk. I can do this. Just don’t let anything slip. I take a deep breath and walk out of the room. From the top of the stairs, I see Raven setting down her bags. I knew she’d been shopping.
She looks up at me, a huge grin spreading over her face. “Lauren! I thought that was your car!” She squeals, dropping bags all on the floor.
“Hi, Raven,” I say cheerfully, running down the stairs.
She meets me at the bottom and wraps me into a big hug. “It’s so good to see you! I’ve missed you so much!” she says, squeezing me tightly.
“I’ve missed you too,” I tell her honestly, letting her scent take me back to my childhood, when any problem I had could be solved with a piece of chocolate cake—albeit from the store, since Raven couldn’t bake if her life depended on it.
She steps back, scrutinizing my appearance. “You look beautiful. I love the sweater.” She glides her hand across my shoulder. Raven’s as fashionably inclined as always, and I often wonder what would have happened if she had grown up in a big city. I’m sure she wouldn’t have ended up a librarian. “So what brings you here? How long are you staying? And where is that handsome nephew of mine?”
Okay, Lauren, let’s start thinking. Think, think, say something, keep smiling. Unfortunately, all I’m doing is smiling because I can’t think of a word to say. I really need to start planning ahead.
She frowns at me and brushes her scarlet bangs out of her face. “Uh-huh. How about you help me take these in the kitchen and tell me all about it?”
She grabs two bags and leaves the room. I pick up three bags and follow. I need to think of something; I’m definitely not ready to tell her that I’ve left my husband. I walk into the brightly lit kitchen and set the groceries on the table. Being here reminds me how gloomy Chicago is sometimes. Even though she doesn’t cook, she makes sure to have all her favorite snacks and plenty of fruits and vegetables in the refrigerator. She starts to unpack bags and put groceries away, but I can tell her full attention is on me.
“So how is everything?” she asks casually.
“Everything is good.” I nod, pulling a carton of milk from the bag.
“You didn’t call me this week.”
“I know. I, um, I wanted to surprise you,” I say, hoping that doesn’t sound like a lie.
“You did! When I saw that Audi parked in the driveway, I couldn’t believe my eyes! So again, how long do I have you guys?” she asks as if she’s a hotel desk clerk.
“Oh, well, I was thinking I’d stay a week or two,” I tell her, busying myself by taking out a bottle of juice and avoiding her eyes.
“You are?” she asks, surprised.
“Yeah, well, if that’s okay with you,” I say hesitantly.
“Of course it is, honey. I love your company, and you know that you’re always welcome here. It’s just… two weeks is quite a long time. Is Cal here?” she inquires.
Here’s my chance. Just tell her. Just say it! “N-no, um, that’s actually why I’m here.”
She stops going through the bag and gives me her full attention; her look is intimidating. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, nothing’s wrong. It’s just that Cal’s gone on another business trip, and the penthouse gets lonely at night. I thought, I haven’t seen you in a while.” I laugh slightly. God, why didn’t I just tell her? I missed the perfect opportunity. Now this whole time, I’m going to be on pins and needles and have to remember my own lies.
“Oh.” She looks at me skeptically, the look quickly replaced by a smile. “Well, I’m really glad you’re here.” She gives me another hug. “How about I finish up here, you go to your room and get settled, and I’ll order us some lunch?”
“That’d be great.” I get up from the table. “You sure you don’t want any help?”
“No, I’m fine. Go get settled,” she insists.
I walk out of the kitchen and head for my car. I hate lying to my aunt, or lying in general, but if I told her why I was really here… I open up the trunk and heave my big suitcase out, setting it on the ground with a plop. As I roll it up the walkway toward the house, I notice Raven standing at the door with a huge smile and the phone close to her ear.
Please tell me she’s not talking to who I think she’s talking to.
“Lauren, honey, Cal’s on the phone!” she calls.
My heart stops for a minute. She loves that man so much, I swear, if he weren’t my husband and he were just a little bit older, she’d be on him like a Chanel bag in the clearance section, if there is such a thing.
“I’m kind of in the middle of something,” I call to her as sweetly as I can, squashing my annoyance and anger as I head back over to the car, trying to look busy shuffling through my bags.
“Lauren Brooks! Get over here right this minute. You can bring your bags in later,” she says in a calm but forceful tone.
I feel my shoulders drop as I slowly walk up to the porch, a small pout on my face. I
remember I’m supposed to pretend I’m happy. I take the phone from her. “I’m going to take this in the house.”
“Sure,” she tells me.
I walk into the dining room and close the door. I take a huge breath and bring the phone to my ear.
“I knew you were going to be at Raven’s,” he says before I even let him know I’m there.
How wonderful of you, I think and roll my eyes.
“You’re not talking to me?” he asks.
I sigh in disbelief. He still thinks I’m “not talking to him.” I’ve left him, and he’s shrugging it off as a temper tantrum. Obviously, he doesn’t get it.
“Two calls. It must be my lucky day,” I mumble sarcastically, pacing the room.
“I know. I was wrong,” he says.
“You really mean that? Or are you just saying what you think I want to hear?”
“I mean what I say.” He sounds offended.
“Cal, I’m tired of doing this with you.” I sigh.
“Well, what do you want me to say?” he asks defensively.
What do I want him to say? What the fuck do I want him to say? I want him to say he’s sorry for everything, sorry that he’s played with my emotions, sorry that he’s such an ass, that he leaves me alone for days without a single phone call, sorry that he’s made me into a person I don’t even recognize, that he’s eroded my self-confidence, sorry that he exists in my life!
I don’t hear anything except silence on the other end. Oops, I must have said all that out loud.
I’ve been sitting here in my old bedroom in silence for twenty minutes, waiting for him to call me back. I shouldn’t be waiting for him. I should be happy that he’s not attempting to call me back. I brush my fingers through my hair and sigh. I hear a soft knock on the door.
“Honey, is everything okay?” Raven asks, quietly walking into the room.
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” I say, forcing another smile.
She opens her mouth as if she’s about to say something, but then she changes the subject. “I completely forgot I told Mrs. Ingram that I’d have lunch with her today, before I knew you were coming. Would you like to join us? She’d love to see you.”