Chapter 34
Lior
“Well,” I said to Addie. “What do you think?”
“It’s gorgeous,” she said.
We were standing outside on the master suite balcony of the house I was about to purchase.
I had returned to Seattle to sign the contract eight days after I’d left.
Addie had insisted on meeting me there so I’d asked for an evening appointment to allow us to leave from the house straight to dinner and drinks to celebrate.
The house was stunning, with the same cozy feeling my brownstone in NY had, but airier and with a paler color palette and views across the water.
“You’re gonna need a car,” Addie said as she peeked in the master suite walk-in closet.
“Oh yeah,” I said, wrinkling my nose. I rarely drove these days. Didn’t have much opportunity to do so. In New York I took the subway or cabs, and when I traveled, it was normally for work and a car was provided. “That’s scary to imagine.”
“When was the last time you drove?”
I narrowed my eyes, trying to remember.
“Welp,” she said, laughing. “That’s terrifying. I’ll get you a bus schedule.”
After showing her the house, I sat down with the realtor and signed all the things. An hour later I had my own set of keys. I immediately removed one and handed it to Addie.
“Shall we go celebrate?” she asked.
“Absolutely.”
We walked down the hill to the main drag and wandered up the road to Cactus, a local favorite with fun salads and interesting cocktails.
“How do you feel?” Addie asked, taking a sip of her drink. “Excited? Nervous? Ready to take on Seattle?”
She looked prettier than ever, even with the red scar across her cheek where she’d been stitched up after her accident. Her hair was longer than it normally was, and instead of her usual ponytail, it was loose and flowing over her shoulders.
“I don’t know,” I said, peering at her. “Why do you look so good? Have you been having sex without telling me?”
She laughed and tossed her hair back over her shoulder.
“I think it’s just the scar. It makes me look like a badass. Adds to my mystique.”
“Your veterinarian cat lady mystique?”
“Exactly.”
“You still verbally sparring with Mr. Vet?” I asked, referring to the veterinarian who had helped out with her practice while she was recovering.
She rolled her eyes. “Oh my god. He’s so obnoxious. He’s set up a run/walk along Alki Avenue for people to come with or without dogs, and at the end there’s going to be an mobile adoption bus.”
“And that’s bad why?”
“He just wants to run around shirtless and show off his abs.”
“Again I ask… that’s bad why?”
She glared at me. “It’s gross, that’s why.”
“But if it gets pets adopted.”
“Who are you and what have you done with my friend?”
“I think you like him,” I said. “You never get like this with the guys you actually date, who are certified losers by the way. But men who challenge you… Remember Tom Williams?”
“I’m not listening to you,” she said, lifting her menu up to block my view of her. “And you’re wrong. I think he’s a chauvinistic pig.”
“Mmhmm…”
An ice cube came flying over the top of her menu and went down the front of my shirt, making me squeal. The menu lowered.
“Mmhmmm…” she said, mimicking me. My drink had no ice cubes so it was even funnier when the tiny slice of cucumber I threw stuck to her collarbone. “Any news from you-know-who?” she then asked, removing the food from her skin and popping it in her mouth.
I glared over the top of my menu. We hadn’t talked about Graham in days. Maybe even weeks. Definitely one week.
I’d gone from sad and numb to angry and numb, and was now back to sad, grief hitting me like a wave as I’d stared at my bed a few nights ago, realizing I’d never roll over to find him sleeping beside me ever again.
The pain hit me like a punch to the gut and I’d folded in on myself and cried into my duvet.
My therapist told me it was normal, but as far as Addie knew, I was managing just fine.
“Why are you trying to ruin my good mood?” I asked.
“Sorry,” she said. “I was just curious. You two have really just cut ties, haven’t you. Usually people linger but—”
“I guess we’re just grown-ups,” I said, avoiding her gaze across the table. “Also, my therapist is amazing. I have a mantra and everything. Came up with it myself.” I smiled like a little kid, proud of taking her first steps.
“Tell me what it is.”
“No.”
“Tell me!”
I put down my menu and folded my hands on top of it.
“No more Graham,” I said. She nearly spit out her sip of drink as she burst out laughing.
“Lior. That’s—”
“Helpful? Healthy?”
“Sure.” She gave me a placating smile and I felt relief as the waitress came over.
We put in our orders and then moved on to other subjects, namely me moving to Seattle.
“What’s the timeline?” Addie asked.
“The movers are scheduled for November twelfth.”
“So you’ll be here for Thanksgiving?”
“I’m always here for Thanksgiving.”
“You know what I mean. A resident of Seattle once again.”
“I will.”
“Well then,” she said, raising her glass. “Cheers to that.”
The next week was spent choosing items I wanted to take with me to Seattle.
Pink couch? Yes. Deck furniture? No. Books?
Duh. Bed? My mind was immediately filled with images of Graham, sleeping, naked, on his knees between my legs.
Fuck. The bed needed to be worshipped, mourned, and then burned.
I’d get a new one for new memories to be made in…
with all the pets I’d adopt from Addie’s nemesis’s adoption events.
I’d be a cat and dog lady and my home would become unsuitable for guests. It would be perfect.
I walked through the house with a clipboard, several sheets of paper organized by room, and three highlighter pens with coordinating stickers.
Pink for move, orange for donate, and yellow for sell.
It took me three days. When I was done, I decided I was glad I had another visit with my therapist the next day.
I was at the end of my emotional rope. Leaving this space, again, was harder than I thought it would be.
“Lior,” she said, her voice warm as she ushered me into the familiar, cozy space that was her office.
“Hey Hestia,” I said, sinking into large beige couch that took up one side of the room.
Hestia Galanis was a godsend. I’d found her by accident early on in my career when we were both attending the same gallery opening.
She’d walked into the bathroom where I was tearfully wiping at the skirt of my brand-new Alexander McQueen minidress that was dripping with olive oil from the messy hors d’oeuvres I’d waited a second too long to put in my mouth.
She quickly taught me about soap and oil while removing a handkerchief from her purse.
“Use this instead,” she’d said. “It won’t leave pieces of paper towel on the fabric.”
Ten minutes later I was standing under the heated hand dryer and the stain was barely visible. When I’d asked if she was a magician, she’d laughed and said no, she was a mother and she was Greek.
“We use a lot of olive oil in our cooking. I have to get it out of my clothes at least three times a week.”
She’d then pulled out a slender packet of makeup remover towelettes for the smeared mascara under my eyes.
“You’re amazing,” I’d told her after dabbing the black streaks from my skin. “Do you do anything else besides mother and cook with olive oil?”
“I’m a therapist.”
“Do you have a card?”
That was nine years ago. She’d been helping me maneuver through life – whenever I managed to get in to see her – ever since. But it had been months since I’d seen her last, and we’d been doing a lot of catching up the past few weeks.
“Did you sign on the house?” she asked.
“I did.”
“Congratulations! It’s a big step and I’m proud of you. You are moving forward, Lior. Does it feel that way?”
I made a face and she laughed.
“Well,” she said. “I am here to tell you that you are. What else?”
“I turned down a modeling job. One I would’ve taken previously but knew I’d be miserable if I did it.”
“Wonderful. That’s more progress. And have you talked with your agent?”
“I have. I let her know that I want to scale back. We had a nice long talk about it and she was lovely.”
“Well done. Now… how can I help you today?”
“Tell me how to not end up with people who use me or want to change me?”
“I cannot do that. Tell me why.”
“Because I haven’t done the work.”
“And because you’ve been existing…”
I raised my hand, mimicking the motion I was taught by my mother.
“Up here.”