Chapter Twelve
CHAPTER TWELVE
JOEL
T he roads were mostly empty. This was the kind of night I missed having a wide open highway for hundreds of miles through the Arizona desert. I needed to drive fast and clear my head. Had I really just admitted to Natalie I couldn’t fall in love with her? I met her only four days ago, and she was leaving next week. Of course I couldn’t fall in love with her. Nobody falls in love that fast. Did I truly think on some level I was in love with her? And if, hypothetically, I fell in love with her, did that mean I stopped loving Lottie? Would she be replaced? Would I always compare a new woman with my late wife? Is that fair to anybody? If I expected to answer all those questions now, I would be circling the island until sunup.
I reflected on my session with Dr. Adams. When I’d brought up Natalie, we spent most of the time talking about her. He’d asked about Charlotte and Natalie, and if I saw any of Charlotte in Natalie. No. They couldn’t be more opposite. Charlotte was the stereotypical redhead, a carefree spitfire. She would whip up a gourmet meal on her days off. She loved to ‘put on her face’ as she always called it, doing something with a black pencil that really made her blue eyes stand out. She never wore high heels the whole time I knew her. Even on our wedding day she wore her favorite old Birkenstocks. And her laugh was infectious.
I explained to Dr. Adams that I knew I was only seeing vacation Natalie, but she didn’t seem to share any of the traits that made up Charlotte. We discussed what moving on looked like for me and what my expectations were for myself and a future partner.
When I got up to leave, he shook my hand and with a smile on his face told me, “I saw something different in you when you walked in the door today, and I would never have guessed it was a woman. But you seem more at peace.” He didn’t expand if that was a good or bad thing. But I think he was pleased.
I turned on a favorite playlist and drove through a sleepy town, merging onto HI-61. The music did nothing to distract me.
Kissing Natalie was fun. She knew just how to nibble my lower lip and drive me insane. And her confidence when she took the lead was going to be the end of me. Touching her was going to be the end of me. I couldn’t think about her leaving. That right there would likely be the end of me. Dr. Adams and I had spent two years talking about how I have to let go of things I couldn’t control. This was a good example: I couldn’t control our timeline. What I could control was going to the wedding together and kissing her as much as she would let me. That’s where my focus could be.
I pulled off Highway 1 and wound past the Ala Wai Golf Course. Soon my apartment building came into view. Shutting off the ignition, the memory of the evening briefly floated over the moment of awkwardness. What caused her to pause? I kept focusing on my embarrassing admission, but she stopped before that too. Was it something I did? Did she feel we were moving too fast? Was she not as into me as I projected?
Once upstairs, I stood in the middle of my place and looked around. Natalie had only been there once, but I could feel her everywhere. The shirt that smelled like her was still on my bed. I picked it up and inhaled it. Her scent had vanished. The sink was stacked with the dishes of our crepe dinner. The two chairs still sat on the balcony. Everything within the four walls felt lonely, which was absurd, since I’d lived there without company just fine. Until now.
After putting all back in its rightful place, I went out on the balcony and practiced meditating to clear my mind. I was on my fifth round of inhaling and exhaling for a six-count when my phone chimed on the bedside table. I peeped open one eye, turning my head toward the sound. Another chime. I shook my arms and loosened my neck and shoulders, setting aside the desire to run and check my phone for another three excruciating rounds. They had to be from Ben regarding his arrival the next day. Yeah, probably.
Another chime. Maybe it was Natalie and she needed me. Something had happened and I’m the only person she knows on the island.
Stop. She didn’t need me now, just like she didn’t need me to show up this afternoon when I couldn’t get hold of her. Nat was as independent as they came.
A fourth chime.
That was it. I was done on the balcony and willed myself to saunter—not run—inside.
Three texts were from Ben reminding me about their arrival time—something about the groomsman shark day?—and a third I think he had meant for somebody else.
But there was one from Natalie. The stupid, big smile that broke across my face made my cheeks hurt.
Hey. Just making sure you got home okay. Is it weird if I tell you I miss you?
I was glad we were on the same page.
Yes I made it home. Not even a little bit weird. I feel the exact same way.
With my reply sent, my head hit the pillow, and I was out.