Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Five
Allie had made plans to spend Christmas with Mindy, who hated Christmas. It made her the perfect person to spend the holiday with when one was feeling slightly miserable about it.
It was not the first time Allie had felt despondent at Christmas over the years she’d been in Brooklyn, and it wasn’t the worst. Nothing would ever compare to the first Christmas she’d been there, her life upended, an orphan trying to start over without the friends who’d made her life worthwhile. She’d spent that Christmas with Mindy as well, the two of them barely speaking. Allie didn’t even complain when Mindy decided to play all of her Joni Mitchell records one after the other. For once in her life, she didn’t care about the music that surrounded her. She didn’t think she’d ever get over the feelings of loss that seemed to have embedded themselves permanently in her heart after she’d left that last band practice.
She thought again about her conversation with Ren and felt a heavy clutch of doom in her stomach. What if Ren was right? What if she’d wasted all those years assuming her bandmates hated her when she could have just worked harder to save the relationship? What if Jessi had stayed in her life instead of eventually becoming the focus of a mystery that she wasn’t sure would ever be solved?
When Allie arrived at the door, Mindy flung it open and regarded Allie with concerned eyes.
“How are you doing?”
Allie shrugged. “Fine, I guess.”
“I’m worried about you.”
“Well, don’t be.”
Allie knew Mindy wouldn’t push it. Strong feelings—her own or anyone else’s—made Mindy uncomfortable when she was confronted by them one on one.
Mindy’s apartment, two blocks from the café, was a cozy and comfortable one-bedroom above a laundromat. Its radiators hissed and clanked in the cold weather. The whole place always smelled vaguely of fabric softener. Mindy had lived there for almost twenty years now, and Allie was saddened to see that the decluttering and packing efforts had already begun, in preparation for her aunt’s pending departure. There were cardboard boxes marked Donate in each room, and all the bookshelves, once crammed, were empty.
“I brought you something.” Allie dug around in the pockets of her coat and pulled out a cassette. She handed it to Mindy, who looked at the handwritten song list curiously.
Allie had decided that the final form of her covers project had to be a cassette. It seemed only right, given the inspiration for the project in the first place. She’d made three copies, for the three people she knew who still owned cassette players. One for George, one for Mindy. And one for Ryan. But it was looking as if that last one wasn’t going to be gifted after all.
“You finished it! Allie, this looks amazing.” Mindy turned the small plastic case over in her hands. “Your dad would have gotten a real kick out of it.”
Allie smiled. “Yeah, I think he would have.”
Mindy made spaghetti, and they ate it on the soft, tweedy sofa. Snow was falling outside the tall, uncurtained windows, flakes illuminated as they moved through the beam of a streetlamp.
Mindy let Allie choose the movie, stipulating that anything that wasn’t Christmasy was fine with her. After a bit of thought, Allie chose Funny Face , knowing how much Mindy loved Audrey Hepburn and figuring the scenes in Paris would amplify Mindy’s excitement about her upcoming travels. But when the characters arrived in Paris, Allie glanced over at her aunt and saw that her face was wet with tears. Allie scrambled to pull the remote control from the sofa cushions and hit Pause.
“Holy shit, what’s wrong?”
Mindy managed a small smile and wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand. She sighed and looked away from Allie. “I’m just sad, I guess.”
“Sad about what?” Allie was mystified. She’d seen her aunt cry at the occasional funeral they’d attended over the years, but never just randomly in the middle of a movie like this.
“About leaving the café. And about leaving you and Ren and…everything, I guess.”
“Do you not want to go anymore?” Allie hated herself for feeling a flicker of hope.
“No, no.” Mindy waved her hand, as if batting Allie’s words out of the air. “Of course I want to go. I’m just…I guess I’m just having feelings about it. Perfectly normal feelings.”
“Maybe for other people.” Allie was pleased when Mindy gave a gentle laugh.
“I have feelings , Allie. And I’m allowed to be slightly conflicted about this massive life change.” Mindy laid her head back against the wall behind the sofa. “I just keep thinking about how if someone asked me who I am, right now I would say I’m a New Yorker and a café owner. When I leave, then who will I be?”
Allie didn’t have an answer. They sat in silence for several minutes, and then Mindy reached for the remote control and wordlessly pressed Play.
When the movie finished, Mindy was fast asleep. Rather than wake her, Allie covered her aunt with a plaid wool blanket and let herself out. The streets were quiet, and the air was cold and fresh. Something about being out there walking, with few other people around and without anyone she knew anywhere near her, made Allie feel pleasantly untethered. She walked slowly, feeling as if she were the only person on earth. As if whatever she chose to do, now or in the future, would have no consequences for anyone but herself.
“That’s some weird Ayn Rand shit right there,” she muttered aloud as she crossed the road toward the darkened café. Still, something about that moment of freedom allowed her to think about what she would be choosing for herself if she weren’t worried about what anyone else would think or feel about it.
She let herself into the café and locked the door behind her, grabbed a cookie from the kitchen and headed up the stairs to her apartment. Immediately, she picked up her guitar. She played her new song once, twice, and then a third time, changing a few lyrics and adding a more complex melody for the bridge. She was just thinking about recording it when she heard someone enter the kitchen downstairs through the back door.
“Allie? You up there?”
Ren’s voice floated up the stairs. Allie laid her guitar down and quickly opened the door. Ren was staring at her from the bottom of the staircase.
“Yeah, I’m here. Is everything okay? I thought you’d be at Anisha’s.”
“Can I come up?”
“Of course.”
Allie backed into her apartment and waited for Ren to climb the staircase. Once Ren had removed their coat and boots, they sat on the stool by Allie’s recording setup and gestured for Allie to sit on the bed.
“Ren, what’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”
Ren took a deep breath.
“Did you tell Anisha not to get involved with me?”
Allie wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting to hear, but it certainly wasn’t that. She felt a tickle of panic in her belly.
“What?”
“Did you tell Anisha not to get involved with me? At our Thanksgiving dinner?”
Allie remembered. The conversation with Anisha. Conspiring with Mindy to avoid another heartbroken paramour banging on the café door in the wee hours, looking for Ren.
Shit.
Allie took a deep breath. “Yes. I did. Mindy and I—Uh…Well, it was mostly me.”
Ren was very still. “Do you want to explain why?”
“I’m sorry, Ren. Anisha was asking me about you and—god, I really do feel terrible about this now—I told her that you were a heartbreaker. I told her about all the girls that have been hurt and showed up here.” This was all hard to say. Allie forced herself to get the full truth out. “And I did, I recommended that she not get involved with you.”
Ren stood up. “Allie.” Their voice was disturbingly calm. “I am very angry about this. I am angry at you.”
“Why are you saying it like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re a robot?”
Ren smiled, just a bit, with one corner of their mouth. “I’m showing you that we can get through this without it being a giant bust-up. I am setting an example .”
“Oh.” Allie blinked, startled by this left turn in the conversation. “Okay, then. What happens next?”
“What happens next is that I leave and go for a walk around the block. That will help me get some perspective and be less mad. Then I’ll come back here, and we’ll have a conversation about how we can move forward from this experience.”
Allie wasn’t sure what to say. “Uh…okay, sure?”
Ren nodded and rose, stepping into their boots and pulling their thick winter coat back on. They disappeared down the stairs, and Allie sat back down on her bed. She wanted to play guitar again, but that seemed inappropriate. So she sat still and waited, watching the bare branches on the tree outside her window sway in the wind.
Ren returned ten minutes later, their boots clomping up the stairs. Allie could feel her jaw tightening. Ren being upset made her stressed. Even though this fight—if that was even what was happening—did not feel like any conflict she’d had before.
Ren took off their coat and boots again and sat back down on the stool, facing Allie. They clapped their palms down flat on their legs and looked Allie in the eye. “What you said to Anisha made me upset. It hit a nerve for me because I have been worried that I’m not good enough for Anisha. So to know that you thought the same thing felt really bad.”
Allie started to speak, but Ren held up one hand to stop her. “I understand what you said and why you said it, and I know that Anisha was probably a bit… relentless in her questioning, so I don’t think that you did it to be intentionally hurtful. But it did hurt me. And I wanted you to hear how I feel.”
Allie stared at Ren. An awkward, prolonged silence enveloped the room. Finally, Ren seemed to realize that Allie needed permission to speak. “Oh, you can go ahead and talk now.”
“Okay.” Allie smoothed her sweaty hands over her bedspread. Her heart was pounding. “This is really hard for me. Right now, I feel like I want to just hide. I hate that I hurt your feelings. I think you’re amazing. I also think, for the record, that you are absolutely, without question, good enough for Anisha. I am really happy you found each other. I based what I said that night on your past, on those situations that happened with the other people you’d dated. I should have known that a person’s past doesn’t always equal who they are in the present. I was worried that if something went wrong with you and Anisha, I wouldn’t get to have Ryan and Anisha in my life anymore, and that was so scary to me. What I told Anisha was about my own fear, not about your prospects as a good partner.”
Allie finished and forced herself to look at Ren, who was smiling.
“Thank you, Allie. Good use of I statements, by the way.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I will look it up.”
Ren laughed. “Wow, you really haven’t been in a healthy relationship before, have you?”
Allie shook her head. “Not yet, I guess.”
“Well, I’m going to head back to Anisha’s.” Ren got up and retrieved their coat and boots.
“Ren, thank you for coming here, in the middle of the night on Christmas, to tell me what you needed me to hear. And to help me with all of this.”
“Well”—Ren shrugged—“I couldn’t sleep for thinking about it. So, you’re welcome. I’d say anytime , but I don’t really want to do this again.”
Allie laughed. “Do you want me to walk you?”
“Naw, I’ll get an Uber. I’ll tip big.”
“Merry Christmas, Ren.”
“Merry Christmas, Allie.”
Allie listened to Ren’s boots on the stairs and the ringing of the bell on the front door as they let themselves out and locked it behind them. Allie was alone, again. The conversation had been a success, but she still felt like a failure. She’d ultimately chickened out and hadn’t told Ren that she was having doubts about taking over the café, for fear that it would disrupt the harmony they’d just established.
I’ll tell them soon.
She made this promise to herself as she flopped back onto her bed, exhausted. Within a few minutes, she was asleep.