Chapter 22
PITTSBURGH
JUNE 14, 2022
AGE: 35
GABE AVOIDED MY GAZE ALL THROUGH A CAPPELLA PRACTICE, EVEN during “A Long December,” one of our favorites. The other Gabe—Gabriel Winkhorn, a retired podiatrist who was partial to sixties girl-group songs—made a thumbs up when he caught me glancing down the row. But Gabe, my Gabe, wasn’t up for acknowledging my existence.
It made no sense. We’d spent so much time at Desmond’s Tavern bonding over our shared love of the Counting Crows. We’d even seen them on the same tour, and we both had the concert T-shirts to prove it. And now we were singing lyrics about hospitals and oysters that I never really understood but that always made me well up with emotion.
I belted out about a day up in the canyons for the third and last time, an ache rising in my chest. This would be my last day losing myself in song with the Looney Tunes.
Gabe’s hands were balled up into fists and his face was in an agonized expression. This made me feel both better and worse. On the one hand, I wasn’t the only one getting carried away here. On the other hand, I had no idea what Gabe was going through. I thought about the times I’d seen him in my alternate life, falling through a subway grate and getting rubbed out by a bus. Could he know about those events on some unconscious level and be punishing me?
It wasn’t just the song I wanted to share with him. I so badly wanted to tell him about everything that had transpired since we’d last spoken. My hurtling back and forth between realms, my trying out my could-have-been perfect life where he kept popping up and getting popped down like a prop in a cosmic game of Whac-A-Mole. I wanted to look into his sympathetic eyes and describe the premature nostalgia that filled me now that my Rust-Belt life was coming to an end. I wanted to tell him about Sophie, and how worried I was about her. Most of all, though, I just missed the guy and his weird observations about life.
I rushed over to Gabe after the session. I caught him by the exit door.
“You were right,” I said as we made our way out of the main auditorium. “The reunion had its bright spots.”
“Great,” he said. “I’d love to hear about it sometime.” He was looking over my shoulder.
“I guess tonight is not a good ‘sometime’?” I was trying to infuse my voice with lightness.
Gabe cocked his head. “We didn’t have a plan, did we?”
“Not officially.” I felt confused. Gabe and I never made plans. We just got drinks. Every time.
“Right, right, sorry,” he said. “I just have to be somewhere...” I now noticed he was wearing brand-new white Converse sneakers with a red cartoon heart—the signature of a famous designer—not the slush-splattered ones that I was used to. “I’m supposed to meet up with someone.”
Something felt different. “One of the moms in Ramona’s class?”
“Sort of.” He winced, then coughed.
“It’s kind of a yes or no question.” I forced a laugh.
“It’s her mom.”
Now I coughed. “Ramona’s mom?”
He nodded. “Thea. My wife.”
“I thought she was... your ex-wife.”
Gabe ran his hand through his hair and kicked at something invisible on the floor. “Not officially. Thea and I had dinner with Ramona this weekend, and it was nice... and we ended up...”
“Oh!” I took a tiny step back, my head spinning. My first conclusion was that Gabe’s news had something to do with my Memo, that this was the result of some disjunction, but that wasn’t necessarily the case. All relationships had their ups and downs. Theirs was certainly not for me to judge, I thought as I kept judging.
“That’s great,” I spluttered. “I’m really happy for you.”
“It’s a little stressful. I’m not sure what I am doing.” Gabe was looking everywhere except at my face. “Which is why we should probably... hold off on that next drink? For a while.”
My heart sank.
“Thea saw your number in my call records and was asking questions.” Gabe’s cheeks were turning red. “She wanted to know who you were.”
“Did you tell her that I’m a friend? And that you’re the one who suggested I call you if I needed to talk?” I sounded a bit intense.
“I tried to, but you know how she is.”
“I don’t know how she is,” I said. “All I know is what I’ve heard about from you, and well—”
I was about to say I didn’t think he should be pursuing getting back together with someone who cheated on him, but given who I was still living with, I was in no position to weigh in.
“I’ve probably said some stupid things to you about her that I shouldn’t have. In fact, I’m sure I did. I’m afraid I’m making a mess for everyone, and that’s the last thing I want to do. Especially for Ramona’s sake.”
“Of course,” I said. “I understand. I mean—I don’t understand, but I wouldn’t ever want to mess things up for you guys.”
“Jenny.” Gabe said my name so tenderly I wanted to cry. His mouth opened, but nothing further came out. It looked like whatever he had to get off his chest was physically hurting him.
“I know, relationships are complicated,” I said. It was the same thing I had told him at Desmond’s Tavern when he first showed me that he wasn’t wearing his wedding ring. The ring that, I now noticed, he was wearing again. “I wish you all the good things, Gabe.” I leaned over and kissed Gabe on the cheek. It was the closest our bodies had ever come together.
We lingered in place an extra beat. There were no words. Then Gabe walked down the veteran hall steps and onto Liberty Street. “See ya, Jenny.” He turned to look back at me and smiled. I waved and forced my lips not to tremble. He deserved his space if that was what he needed. He was one of the good ones.
Besides, I had to be honest with myself. Sitting across from Gabe at Desmond’s for upwards of an hour and trying to pass myself off as the same old Jenny, the same old struggling soul without a Memo, would have been nearly impossible. I’d inevitably let it all come tumbling out, including how I somehow kept summoning him into my alternate reality, only to witness his demise again and again. I watched him cross the street. I was about to depart this world, and I had to let him move on.
What now? I didn’t particularly feel like going home to Hal. Maybe I’d ask another Looney Tune if they wanted to grab a drink. I was still standing by the bulletin board at the entrance, waiting to see who else was going to stream out of the practice room, when Gabe’s impeccably dressed understudy presented herself.
“They serve Vienna lager at your little watering hole?”
Minutes later, Desiree and I were sitting in a wooden booth at Desmond’s Tavern. She ordered a tasting flight and opened a tab on her corporate Amex Platinum card. I got my regular glass of German wine. But I barely touched it. Sophie was probably with Roger. Hal was probably with Brie. And Gabe was definitely with Thea.
“Enough with the self-pity,” Desiree said, reading my mind.
I forced myself to sit up straighter and mumbled an apology.
“Gabe is a math teacher who gets emotional when he watches nature documentaries,” Desiree told me.
I smiled. “He’s become a very good friend, one in a million.”
“But he’s not a millionaire. You need a winner—a gorgeous entrepreneur who happens to also have a preternatural gift for real estate. And you’ve got one: Alex!”
There was that name again, Alex. The lawyer–art buyer Leigh had set me up with, the one I’d glimpsed myself fooling around with in my preview.
“Now he’s the kind of guy who finds a second home in Tuscany. The kind you always wanted.” Desiree went on. “A marvelous semi-abandoned convent on a hilltop, with a fantastic vegetable garden.”
“Semi-abandoned? Is that like semidetached?”
“Semi-abandoned. Just a few elderly nuns who can be relocated, no big deal. The rocket is to die for. Arugula, I’m talking about, but you’ll call it rocket there. All the expats in your circle do.”
I was going to be part of an expat circle? In Italy? But only after displacing some old nuns from their home?
It had always been a dream of mine to own a place in Italy. I used to send Geeta real-estate listings and ask her if she knew who I had to fuck, marry, or kill to own whatever piece of earth was being showcased on the slideshow. I hadn’t meant it literally, but here we were. At least I didn’t have to kill anybody–just push out some nuns.
Desiree’s eyes bore into me. “You know what to do.”
Barely two seconds later, I was staring at my phone, watching Gabe and a woman who had to be Thea having drinks in a booth at a bar whose walls were covered with hummingbird print wallpaper. I was pretty sure I recognized the setting as Grape Expectations, a natural wine bar across town. Thea looked like an early-career Nicole Kidman, with her shiny auburn hair and peachy cheeks. I hated her.
“This is all live stream,” Desiree told me. “It’s happening in real time.”
“I know what a live stream is.”
I watched Gabe, his adorable face twisted in what looked like hopefulness. Thea was playing with her ginger hair, a coy smile on her lips. I didn’t know what they were talking about but they clearly weren’t plotting their divorce. Sadness swelled up in me.
“Quite the manipulator, that woman.” Desiree rolled her eyes. “Now do you need to see what Hal is up to?”
“Can we not?” I was upset enough already, ready to shoot through the wormhole. “I think I get the idea.”
“August 5, 2014,” Desiree instructed. “And away she goes.”