Chapter 21 I Looked for You Inside of Everyone Else
MATT
One Tuesday, a few weeks after I posted the letter for Grace to Craigslist, I was walking to my building from the subway when my eight-year-old nephew called, wanting to know if I’d sponsor his jog-a-thon.
I adored the kid and said I totally would, but just as I was about to hang up with him, his mother got on the line.
“Matthias, it’s Monica.”
“Hey. How’s Alexander?”
“Great. Working like a dog and outshining all the other partners, as usual. You know Alexander.”
“Sure do,” I said, not unbitterly. “And you? How’s life in Beverly Hills?”
“Cut the shit, Matthias.”
“What’s up, Monica?”
“Elizabeth called me and said she and Brad are having a baby.” My sister-in-law could win an award for figurative ball size.
“Yeah, I’m aware. I get the privilege of working with those assholes every day.”
“She was my sister for eight years, Matthias. Don’t you think I have the right to know?”
I laughed. “You guys weren’t exactly pals, so calling her your ‘sister’ is ridiculous. And she left me, remember?”
“You’re an ass. She wouldn’t have left you if you weren’t so hung up on Grace.”
“Grace had nothing to do with my marriage or divorce.”
“Yeah right. Elizabeth said you never got rid of your photos of her.”
“I never get rid of any photos I take. Why would I? I’m a photographer. Grace was the subject of a lot of my early work. Elizabeth knows that better than anyone. Also, why are we even having this conversation?”
“I just wanted to make sure she gets a gift from us.”
“The postal service can help you with that. She still lives in our old apartment. You know, the one I gave up so she could play house and make babies with her boyfriend.”
“Husband,” she corrected.
“Bye, Monica. Tell Alexander I said hi.”
I hung up, took a deep breath, and wondered again, for the tenth time that week, what the fuck had happened to my life.
When I got to work, I found Scott getting coffee in the break room.
“You get any responses from that post?” he asked.
“Nope, just a few really sweet ladies who offered to be my green-eyed lovebird.”
“Dude, what’s your problem? Take advantage of the situation. She’ll probably never see it, but that doesn’t mean she’s the only green-eyed lovebird out there.” He batted his eyelashes at me.
“That’s the thing. On my way here, I was thinking about my life.”
“Uh-oh.”
“No, listen. My first girlfriend, Monica, and I had this stupid relationship that was all about being fake and trying to impress each other and everyone else.”
“You were young. So what?”
“It was the same thing with Elizabeth, at least in the beginning. My relationship with Monica set the precedent for my marriage with Elizabeth. When things got real, neither of us could handle it. It wasn’t like that with Grace. Ever. It was always real with her.”
“There are other Graces out there.”
“There aren’t, man. I’m telling you. I just met her at the wrong time.
Fifteen years have gone by and I still think about her.
I was married to another woman, a beautiful, smart woman, but sometimes I would think about Grace and wonder what it would have been like if we’d stayed together.
I’d be making love to my wife and thinking about Grace. How fucked up is that?”
“ ‘Making love’? That’s really sweet, Matt.” He grinned, on the brink of laughter.
“Don’t patronize me.”
“I’m just saying it’s time to start nailing chicks. You’re long overdue. No more making love for you. Doctor’s orders.”
He slapped me on the shoulder and walked out.
Later in the week, Elizabeth stopped by my cubicle. I was leaning back in my chair, playing Angry Birds.
“Matt?”
I looked up to find her wearing a flowing maternity dress, looking like Mother Earth herself, caressing her baby bump.
Elizabeth was pretty in a natural, granola kind of way.
Plain features, plain brown hair, nice skin, and a sun-kissed glow all year long.
It was her personality and her easy betrayal of our marriage that made her ugly.
“What’s up?”
“Don’t you have, like, a thousand photos to edit?”
I returned my focus to the screaming birds. “Done. Submitted.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her put her hand on her hip like a stern parent. Her patience was dwindling. I didn’t care.
“You couldn’t pass them by me first?”
My eyes shot up to her and then back down to my phone. “Well, that’s a fine-lookin’ high horse you’re on, Lizzy.” I never called her that. “You think you’re my boss now?”
“Matt. I can barely tolerate this strife between us.”
“Strife?!” I chuckled as I leaned back in my chair. My phone buzzed in my hand. Incoming call from a local Manhattan number I didn’t recognize. I held my finger up to Elizabeth, shushing her before I pressed talk. “Hello?”
“Matt?”
Oh God.
Her voice, her voice, her voice, her voice.
Elizabeth was still glaring at me. She threw her hands up and said, “Can you just call this person back? I’m trying to talk to you.”
“Hold on, Grace,” I said.
“Grace?” Elizabeth’s mouth fell open.
I covered the receiver. “Get the fuck out of here!”
She put her hand on her other hip. “I’m not leaving.”
I uncovered the receiver. “Grace?”
God, I wanted to fucking cry.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“Can you give me two minutes? I promise I’ll call you right back.” I thought I was going to throw up.
“If it’s a bad time . . .”
“No, no, I’ll call you right back.”
“Okay,” she said, uncertainly.
We hung up. “So, you’re seeing Grace?” Something about her tone smacked of satisfaction, and her eyes said, Of course you are.
I sucked in a deep breath through my nose. “No, I’m not seeing her. That was the first time I’ve talked to her in fifteen years, and you just ruined it.”
“This is your job, Matt. This is a workplace.”
“Is that what you said to Brad before you fucked him in the copy room?” I shot back, flatly. I felt like someone had stabbed me in the chest and I was bleeding out. I felt weaker and weaker by the second. “I don’t feel good. Can you leave me alone please?” My eyes started to water.
She flushed. “I . . . Matt . . .”
“Whatever you’re about to say, I don’t care, Elizabeth. Not at all. Not even one iota.” I shrugged.
She turned and walked away.
I went to my recent calls and hit send on Grace’s number.
“Hello?”
“I’m so sorry about that.”
“That’s okay.”
I took a deep breath. “God, it’s good to hear your voice, Grace.”
“Yeah?”
“How have you been?”
“I’ve been okay. It’s been . . . a long time, Matt.”
“Yeah. It has, hasn’t it?” She sounded a little apprehensive. I was, too. “So what do you do now? Where do you live? Are you married?”
“I’m not married.” My stomach unclenched. Thank God. “I live in a brownstone on West Broadway in SoHo.”
“You’re kidding. I live on Wooster.”
“Oh, wow. That’s very close. Are you still working for the magazine?”
She knew I worked for the magazine? “Yeah, but I do more for the TV channel now. I’m not traveling as much.
How about you? Still playing the cello?” A memory of Grace playing the cello in our dorm room, wearing nothing but her flowery underwear, drifted into my head.
The light from the window had silhouetted her so I had pressed the shutter on my camera and snapped away as she played.
I still had those pictures somewhere. I remembered that I had set the camera down, gone up to her, and traced the indentations above her cute little ass.
She had gotten tripped up on the music and started giggling.
I wondered now if I’d ever hear that giggle again.
“Uh-huh. Not professionally, I teach high school music classes now.”
“That sounds great.” I cleared my throat awkwardly. I wanted to tell her that she sounded different, doleful, un-Grace-like, but I kept those thoughts to myself.
Several moments of uncomfortable silence passed by. “So you saw the post, I take it.”
“Yes, that was really sweet . . .” She hesitated and took a deep breath. “When I saw you, I didn’t know what to think.”
“Yeah, um . . . the post was a shot in the dark, I guess.”
“You’ve had a great career. I’ve followed you a little.”
“Have you?” My throat hurt, my head began throbbing, and I was suddenly very nervous. Why had she followed my career?
“Is Elizabeth . . .”
“Pregnant?” I blurted out. Why did I say that? And how does she even know about Elizabeth? I wanted to fill her in on everything, but all the wrong words were coming out of my mouth.
“Matt.” Another long, uncomfortable pause. “I feel really confused about seeing you, and the post and . . .”
“Elizabeth isn’t—” I started to say, but she interrupted.
“It was nice talking to you. I think I’d better go.”
“Coffee? Do you want to get a coffee sometime?”
“Um, I’m not sure.”
“Okay.” Another awkward silence. “You’ll call me if you change your mind?”
“Sure.”
“Grace, you’re okay, right? I mean, you’re well? I need to know.”
“I’m well,” she whispered and then hung up.
Fuck!
Elizabeth chose that moment to come back with a stack of photos. She had the worst possible timing. “Can you review these and have them on my desk by tomorrow morning?”
“Yeah, fine, leave them.” I didn’t look up. My heart was hammering in my chest and I was about to cry. I felt Elizabeth’s hand on my shoulder. She squeezed, the way a football coach might do. “You okay?”
“Yep.”
“It’s hard for you to see me like this, isn’t it?”
What? I was so taken aback, I almost laughed. Elizabeth had a way of making everything about her. “You think it’s hard for me to see you pregnant? No, I’m happy for you.”
“I guess that makes sense since you never wanted children.” Her tone was inscrutable.
I always wanted children, just not with you.