Chapter 10 Where Could We Have Gone Further?
“WHERE COULD WE HAVE GONE FURTHER?”
Paul called me early the next morning.
“I’m so sorry,” he said. “Yesterday was—I’m so sorry about that. It must have been…I must have seemed really off. It wasn’t…I’m not trying to get back together with her. I was just shocked.”
“No. Paul, I mean, if you do want to get back together with her—”
He cut me off firmly. “I don’t. I really don’t.”
I said nothing, doubting him, trying not to doubt him.
“Lisette wants to do something today with both of us,” Paul said. “Since the weather is so bad, would you be up for going to see a movie?”
“Only a really bad one.”
Paul, Lisette and I went to see a ridiculous Jason Statham movie together and sat in the back row where we could make each other laugh with side remarks all the way through, like we were the naughty rebels in a school assembly.
It felt like we were team again, and I was glad that the fact that Paul and I were dating hadn’t changed that.
Then I realized that I hadn’t mentioned it to Lisette yet.
Had Paul? Should I have done so? Was I instinctively protecting Paul, in case he might want plausible deniability to get back together with his wife?
It was getting dark when we pulled up to her new house.
“Back to my basement lair,” she said.
“You do have other options,” Paul replied quietly.
“Nah. I need the history of renting to get a proper lease. Though I think by the time I sign a lease on my own place, I want to formally change my name, so my ex can’t find me. And I’ve picked a name out.”
She paused dramatically.
“Celine Dion!” Lisette grinned at us from Paul’s back seat.
“Excellent idea,” I agreed. I knew this was one of her comedic bits.
“I could be the other Celine Dion,” she went on. “But that way if my ex googled my name, he’ll just find her show dates in Las Vegas."
We theorized about other names Lisette could choose: Alanis Morissette. Angelina Jolie. Dame Judy Dench.
Lisette paused. “Seriously, though. There’s something else I need to say. It’s important, and it has to do with my love life.” There was a long moment.
“Yes?” I gently prompted.
“I’m not sure this is the right time, but there’s something I need to tell you.
Or more specifically, something I need to tell Paul.
” We both waited, watching her struggle to meet our eyes.
“I’m in love with you, Paul.” I froze at her words.
“I’m sorry to do this in front of Abby, but I just needed you to finally know. ”
Paul stared at her for a long moment, then something in his expression shifted. “Oh, fuck off, Liz.”
She broke into a wide grin. “You guys hooked up, right?”
I looked between them. “Oh my God!” I laughed. “I wasn’t sure whether Paul told you, and by the time we picked you up, I realized we hadn’t discussed it! I’m sorry!”
“So which one finally caved and jumped on top of the other one?”
Paul sighed. “I asked her out.”
“I’m very excited about this. I want little babies who look like both of you, but more like Abby because Paul is about forty percent gremlin. This is all my doing, you know that, right? Why didn’t you tell me?”
We both looked sheepish. “I meant to, honestly,” I said.
“Hahahaha. Your faces when I asked Paul out. That was better than the film!” She grinned and hopped out of the car.
Paul drove me back to my apartment and then sat for a moment in the car without getting out, looking down at his hands.
I was trying to give him time to speak before I let my fear shut things down.
Saying ‘yes and’ to life, right? I hadn’t entirely expected to see him again after last night, and here he was.
“Can I take you out,” he finally said, “on a proper date? This week sometime? Dinner, maybe?” My heart flooded with a dangerous level of joy, and I pushed it down like it was a stranger’s dog. Down. No. Sit.
“I’d like that.”
He met my eyes, his brown eyes open and serious. “Wednesday? Before we have our improv practice on Thursday?”
“Wednesday works.”
“And can I give you a kiss goodnight?”
“As long as you’re taking it slow. We’re supposed to be taking it slow.”
“Oh, I’ll take it slow.” He grinned wolfishly.
We kissed again, for a long time. A seduction kiss. Then he pulled away and shook his head slowly. “I really want to come upstairs.”
“You could. Just for a coffee.”
He breathed out a little laugh. “It wouldn’t be just a coffee.”
We sat for a long minute in total silence. His phone rang, and he glanced at it and groaned.
“Trish?” I asked.
“My mother again. It’s like she can sense when I’m happy and activates her missile targeting system.”
“You’re happy?”
He nodded, without smiling, just gazing at me. “You should go inside. We’ll do a proper date night.”
“Okay. Goodnight.” I got out of the car, my knees a bit unsteady, and went inside, thinking that he didn’t kiss me like he was still in love with his ex-wife. Hope rose in my chest, carrying me up the stairs like an escaped balloon, bouncing me into my kitchen, staying with me even as I lay in bed.
The next day, my boss Kedar sent me a meeting request first thing in the morning. I pulled my hair into a ponytail and threw on one of my more professional sweaters, pushing the demolished remains of a cranberry muffin and my ‘Tits and Boobies’ mug safely out of view.
I could tell something was wrong as soon as I saw his face. He was usually a go-getter, cheerful, a bit of a corporate hustler but basically a nice guy. This time he looked grim.
“Hey, rock star,” he said softly.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Pledgemont Funds might be changing its work-from-home policy.” I stared at him.
I could tell that it hurt him to say it, and I realized in a rush how much I liked Kedar.
Sure, he might use annoying corporate speak about whether a particular ball was in my court, but he had always treated me well, always tried to allow me the life that I wanted to live.
He had made the last couple of years of my life a lot less miserable than they would have been, and I could see how much it made him unhappy to deliver bad news.
“When?”
“Next Monday,” he said. “I got no warning either. I’m supposed to spend three weeks at my cousin’s wedding in India, and it looks like I may have to cancel the whole trip.”
“How can they do that?”
“They can do that because they can do that,” he said.
“Okay.” I took a deep breath.
“But hold up. Don’t book your flights yet. I’m fighting it. I’ve told them it’s ridiculous. We’re writers, not brokers. I think I can push back.”
“When will you know?”
“Tonight, maybe. Or tomorrow. They’re insisting that it has to be the whole company, or it will pit different departments against each other, but I’ll see what I can do, okay? I know this is bad timing for you.”
“Okay,” I said quietly.
“I’ll have more updates soon,” he said. “I’m going to have a meeting with them today.”
I nodded. “I’m sorry if you may have to miss the wedding.”
“I’m sorry if you have to cut your trip short,” he said.
The word stung. That’s what I was doing in Kedar’s mind: a trip. A fun sojourn, a bit of casual travel. I nodded.
“So this is definite?”
“If I make any headway with them, I’ll let you know. Maybe I can push it back at least a week or two, but I have to see. I’ll call you soon, I promise.”
I felt like my heart was breaking. This was exactly what Paul had been worried about, and my job had proved him right.
I was always supposed to go back to Brooklyn, anyway.
I was supposed to arrive home right when Laura’s life with Nick was falling apart, and that might be happening exactly on schedule.
I took out my phone and prepared a text for Paul, tears forming in my eyes as I looked for the right words.
Should I call him? Break the news gently in writing?
I hesitated. I didn’t want to act like I expected Paul to be as heartbroken as I was.
And Kedar had said maybe, right? It might be pushed off a week or two, or maybe even forever.
There was no point in being sad if I didn’t have a definite answer yet.
I was going to see Paul on Wednesday night, and we could talk then.
I would level with him about where things stood, and by that time I might know more myself.
Jasmine called me that evening.
“Hey, Chica,” she said in her musical voice. “When are you back, babe? We’re deciding about concert tickets and need to know if you’ll be home by October and want to go see a sad gay pop band.”
“Is that the name of the band?”
“It might as well be.” She named a band I’d never heard of, but apparently, they were playing at Madison Square Garden, which officially meant I was not cool anymore.
I took a breath. “I should be back by October, yeah.”
“Amazing. I couldn’t handle it without you. Lucas wants to do theme dressing. It’s me and three of his other friends, and he’s insisting our outfits match. But you and I can cross that Lycra bridge when we come to it. By the way, I looked up pictures of Newfoundland and it is gorgeous.”
“Yeah.”
“Like, stunning. I mean, what the hell? Why does nobody tell me this stuff?”
“To be fair, I did.”
Jasmine started to laugh. “You know what I love about this? You are so far ahead of the curve. In five years, everyone’s gonna be like, Oh my God, I have to go to St. John’s, and you’ll be like, ‘I already summered there.’”
“I don’t think you get to use summer as a verb unless you make at least a million dollars a year.”
“Babe, I’m appropriating ‘summer’ from the rich folks. It’s mine now. I’m summering in Crown Heights.”
“Yeah.” I was silent for a moment.
“You okay?” she asked.
“I have to come back, and I’m not ready,” I said. “The work from home policy may be going away.”
“Oh, honey,” she said, quietly. “I’m sorry. I’ll take care of you. We’ll go for drinks, and you can tell me all about your adventures in fairyland. Not that I’m not having my own version of that.”