Chapter 14 #2
I lead him to the framed historical photo, hanging in the raucous area of the Cocoanut Grove.
This is now an arcade and it turns out the most historically accurate part of the Grove is closed for an event.
We both stare at a photo of the present Grove superimposed over a historical photo.
The main difference is that in the older photo, the white-clothed circle tables are closer to the wall, each table surrounded by a short rail.
There once was a second level, and tall palm trees were part of the décor.
I can picture it now. Me, wearing a long glittery gold gown, my hair in an updo as I dance with gentleman after gentleman.
Ryan, standing against the wall, dressed in a suit, his dark wavy hair slicked back.
He’s staring at me but not making a move to interrupt and take his turn on my dance card.
I wonder who the gentleman is and why he won’t make a move.
“Sometimes, I think I was born in the wrong time,” Ryan says, startling me out of my daydream.
I can’t exactly agree, because I’m a woman.
But it might be nice to be at an event without the distractions of a phone that could buzz or ring at any time.
Nice to know if you slip and fall no one is going to make a reel or boomerang of it and plaster it on social media for all eternity.
How amazing, too, for a chance to get to know someone without the constant chatter.
I can barely picture such a silent world.
“I’m getting a feel for the place,” Ryan says. “After all, geography doesn’t change much. All it takes is a little imagination.”
“True, the ocean has always been right there.” I point.
We pass by the Looff Carousel, which has been here for decades and seen generations of children make the rounds. Their parents now stand by with phones in their hands, scrolling. A few take photos before they go back to their scrolling.
Ryan treats me to a waffle cone and we walk through the covered concrete walkway, the crowded beach to our right.
There isn’t a place for privacy, or quiet, so we finally settle against the rail that separates us from the concrete steps leading to the sand.
I hold my cone, facing the beach. It’s a cloudless day, the sun bright and punishing.
Children are running, laughing, splashing at the water’s edge, and building sandcastles while their parents rest in the shade underneath huge colorful umbrellas.
I would imagine a scene like this one transcends time and place.
The only difference is the clothing. There’s a woman wearing a string bikini getting ogled by the men.
I think of a game I’ve only played with Sofia, but Ryan will be a worthy opponent.
“You see her?” I point to the woman hauling an umbrella, carrying towels, sand toys, and a baby on her back. A toddler follows close behind, a man holding his hand. And nothing else.
Ryan stiffens, mutters a curse word and I know, were we not several hundred yards and crowds of people away, he’d rush to help. So would I, but that’s not the point. I chose her for a reason. She has a story.
“I think she’s going home to tell him he either steps up or she wants a separation. This is just a slice of what happens between them every day.”
“Ah, I used to play this game but it’s been many years.” Ryan leans over the rail, splaying out his arms. “See those two over there?”
I see a young woman on the edge of the surf, a young man beside her. There’s a healthy distance between them. Either they don’t know each other or they’re not happy with each other. Funny how both might be true.
“They just met. She’s not too sure about him, or even men in general, because she just broke up with someone and it was traumatic.
The groom stood her up at the altar, but she took the honeymoon by herself.
That’s why she’s here, alone. She’s not at all ready for this, but he is extremely interested. He just leaned in.”
I scrunch up my nose and take another look at the couple. “What do you mean?”
“Yeah, the lean. What, you don’t know the lean?” He cocks his head.
I’m drawing a blank and a little ashamed to find that my first thoughts run to how lean and fit the young woman is, which shows in many ways I’m my mother’s daughter.
“I think I know what you mean but I’m not sure,” I confess. “In this context.”
“The lean,” he says.
Actually, I need to hear his explanation because something tells me it will be delicious.
“Explain it to me like I’m five.”
“I think you know.” He smirks. “There are different kinds of leans. There’s the friend lean, where you bend slightly in interest. Like I’m doing right now.”
“I see.”
“And then there’s the lean away.” He exaggeratedly leans back. “This is when someone is definitely not interested.”
“Like I haven’t seen that one before,” I say.
“Lastly, smartass, when a guy is interested, this is the lean.”
When he closes the distance between us, all the breath leaves my body. He’s right. The lean is powerful, especially when it’s him. His eyes are the deep blue of the sky at twilight and I’ve absolutely stopped breathing.
“You’re r-right,” I say. “That’s powerful.”
Ryan returns to the healthy distance between us and we’re back to the way we are every day at work.
“Before revisions for the book, when I was actually trying to write a love story, I devoured a dozen romantic comedies. The lean is from While You Were Sleeping.”
“One of my favorite movies of all time!” It’s time for a rewatch.
“Writing a love story forced me to take a hard look at the unspoken physical language between two people. A lean is just the start.”
We’re quiet for several seconds, simply watching the couple as they start off on a walk in the other direction. I catch the lean this time, when he laughs and says something to her. She also laughs. She’s giving him a chance. Good for her.
Sometimes you have to take a risk.
“Are your parents still together?” I ask.
He nods. “Over thirty years and still madly in love.”
“Really?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. Divorce doesn’t run in families like genes for eye and hair color.”
“I know.” I chuckle. “Plenty of couples stay together for decades but are miserable. It’s just…the in-love part surprises me.”
“Sounds like a good thing, right? Instead, they set me up for unrealistic expectations. Do you want to know how you stay in love for over thirty years?”
Naturally, I nod. Doesn’t everyone want that?
“You ignore your children and stay in your own little world with each other.”
“That’s not the best way, I’m afraid.” I shake my head.
My parents never ignored me and I never got the idea that they wished for time away from me.
Devoted to each other, rather than ignore me, they put me at the center of their love.
It’s one of the things I miss most about my childhood.
When I was between them, they were a cocoon for me.
Rather than feeling squeezed I felt utterly and completely loved.
I can’t imagine a world in which they would have ignored me for each other.
“It worked for them. My brother and I were like accessories. You get the older one to watch the younger one. I bet they only had children because they were expected to reproduce.”
“What do you mean expected?”
He sighs. “More soldiers for the spiritual battle. Basically, we lived in a cult for the first few years of my life.”
“If that’s a joke, it’s not funny.”
“Cult is too strong a word but we were raised in a highly regimented religion. They raised us in a micro world where love was merit based. The better you obeyed the rules, the more you were loved by your family, and ostensibly, God. I didn’t manage well, so I wasn’t very loved.”
My heart pinches imagining a little boy who went unloved. I don’t know if there’s much worse. My family has often been my salvation when it feels like nothing is going my way. It’s the one place where one should feel accepted.
“It sounds like you made your own way.”
“It took a while, but I found my tribe at college. I don’t have much to do with my parents anymore, but I’m close with my little brother. And he’s still close with them. What about your parents?” Ryan asks.
“Theirs was a great love story. There was never anyone else, could never be anyone else. It’s what I want someday. I think that’s why I started reading and writing romance. That amazing love story, the once-in-a-lifetime love.”
“How did they meet?”
“San Jose State University where my father was studying when my mother arrived from New Jersey. They met, love at first sight, and married young. My father died when I was ten and she went off the rails. Maybe it was her chance to do everything she’d wanted to do while they were married.
So, she dumped me off with my father’s family and went off to audition for acting roles.
She was actually pretty successful. After that, I only saw her about once a year when she or I visited. She remarried.”
My heart is a raw and pulsing beat remembering those empty years when she chose Seb over me.
I push back the tears with the pads of my fingers.
I’m too old to feel this hurt but maybe Ryan and I have more in common than I realized.
I have Sofia, Eddie, and Abuelita but I don’t have a real mother.
Not one who listens to my heart, who accepts me for who I am, who dries my tears.
Ryan is still looking out at the ocean as if he thinks he’ll find the answer to the mysteries of the cosmos.
“I’m sorry about your father,” he says. “And I think when you really love someone, you’re not going to hold them back from their dreams. You’re not going to chase them.”
I wonder who he means or if he’s talking about himself.
“So,” I say. “Since you’re not going to share those sales numbers yet, I have something to say.”
He turns to me, but dark shades conceal his expressive eyes.
“I saw you this morning at the coffee shop with a woman. She’s pretty, but if I can give you a bit of unsolicited advice…it’s not a good idea to get involved with someone when you’re on the rebound.”
“Rebound? It’s been three years.” He cocks his head and there’s the hint of a smile and amusement laced in his voice.
“Yes, well, maybe a long-distance relationship is not the best idea, either.”
One corner of his mouth quirks up. “You’re right. After all, you’re the romance expert.”
“If I was writing this book, I’d say you’re in an opposites-attract situation with that woman.”
He nods. “That’s true. You’re very observant.”
“Where did you meet her?”
“In Pasadena, but she moved out here a few years ago for her work. She’s a software engineer.”
I don’t know why that hits me like a punch. They obviously have history. This woman means something to him.
Ryan throws away what’s left of his cone in the nearby receptacle, then turns to me with his full attention. He takes off his glasses and props them on his head like he wants me to see his eyes. They squint against the sun but they’re still every bit as blue.
“The woman you saw me with this morning is my ex-wife.”