Chapter 15
“YOU CAN brEAK ME, TOO”
Much later that night, after I got home from the improv show, Laura got a call from Nick. She had delayed her trip to go back to Atlanta, and I wondered if there was something they were still deciding. Maybe they would reconcile after all.
I offered to step out of the apartment to give her privacy, but she shook her head and just stepped into the bathroom to close the door.
It was right next to my bedroom, so I could hear snippets.
Things like, “You’ll always be her father…
” and “That’s why I moved down there. That’s literally why I moved there. ”
Eventually I felt guilty for listening and went outside for a walk.
I walked to the corner bodega and wandered the brightly lit rows of sodas and overpriced snacks, browsing to kill time.
It’s rare that I’m sad Laura doesn’t drink, but this was one of those times; it felt like bringing her back a bottle of wine would have been a nice gesture, considering how stressful the phone call must be.
Instead, I picked up some La Croix seltzer in a mixed six-pack of flavors.
Creating mixed six-packs is one of the minor acts of genius of the New York bodega shops.
They take six-packs of beer or soda that already exist and blend and sell them, probably with questionable legality, but giving their customers options.
It’s one of the little pleasures of urban life that is hard to explain to outsiders.
Laura was still on the phone when I got back, so I stood in the kitchen listening to the murmur of conversation until I heard the bathroom door open and heard her broken voice saying, “Okay. I’ve got to go, okay?”
A moment later she joined me in my tiny kitchen. I could tell she’d been crying. I offered her a range of sparkling waters, and she picked one and cracked it open without meeting my gaze. She just looked at the can for a long moment. Neither of us had to say anything.
“You know what’s stupid?” she said. “I actually thought he would show up here and try to win me back.”
“He probably will, in a few months, once he realizes he messed up.”
She took me in her arms and hugged me.
“I love you,” she said.
“I love you, too.” I was really glad I was there for her. Coming home hadn’t been a mistake.
The doorbell rang and we glanced at each other. “Did you order takeout?” she asked.
I shook my head and walked quickly to the buzzer.
“Hello?”
“Hi, it’s Paul, is that Abby?”
At the sound of his voice, I let go of the buzzer and glanced at Laura. She was looking at me, puzzled. Then I pushed it again.
“Paul?”
“Hey! I’m here. Sorry it’s really late. Can I talk to you?”
I glanced at Laura. “It’s the Newfoundland guy.”
Laura stared at me. “Here?”
“He’s here.” My heart was full of joy, even without knowing what he’d say. Just from knowing I’d get a few more minutes with him. I grabbed my keys. “I’ll go down and talk to him.”
I rushed out the door. Just as it closed, I could hear Laura pressing the button to the buzzer behind me. “She’ll be right down.”
I skipped the elevator and ran down the six flights of stairs. Paul was waiting outside in the lobby next to the buzzers and mailboxes. He smiled when he saw me.
“Sorry it’s late,” he said. “My flight was delayed, and we just got in.”
“Hi,” I said, my voice sounding breathless.
“Hi,” he said with a smile. “I hope this didn’t come off as strange, but I wanted to talk to you in person, and I thought I should just come see you.”
“Okay!” I sounded ridiculously cheerful.
He took a step toward me. I wanted him to hug me. He looked like he wanted to, but then neither of us moved. “I got your text in Toronto on my stopover, but I’d already bought a ticket to come down here and I thought I should say it in person.”
“Say what?”
He took a breath. “So first of all, my mother left a message and said she got kicked out of her apartment complex permanently, so now she’s in a homeless shelter.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
“She had it coming, to be honest. But the point is, it’s not my problem anymore.
Maybe she’ll realize she can’t keep doing this to people, alienating her neighbors and so on.
My father let my mother walk all over him, and I thought for a long time that was love.
That’s what you did for people you loved.
I thought I was helping things by being easygoing. ”
I nodded, listening.
“So when I got married, I kept trying to do what my wife wanted, and also what my mother wanted, and they didn’t want the same things.
So I tried to be a peacemaker. And it didn’t work.
But when—when my mother said those things to you during the show, I realized, I don’t want her in my life anymore.
You were so much more important to me than keeping the peace.
And that made me realize, I should have done that for Trish, too. ”
I nodded. Was that the way this was going? “It’s okay if you want to get back together with her.”
He laughed, once, quietly. “No, Abby. The point is, I don’t think I was ever as in love with Trish as I am with you.
Because you let me be angry. And passionate.
And you don’t try to walk all over me. And you’re the one who I cared enough about to finally set those boundaries.
So I talked to Trish, and I apologized to her.
But the person I want to be with is you.
I love you. Completely, and with all my heart.
And I want to find a way to make this work. ”
I was motionless, joy flooding through me in a slow wave.
Paul’s face was suffused with a tender, adoring look that I was sure must be reflected in my own expression. “Did you really think I would fly all the way down here just to tell you I was getting back together with my ex-wife?”
“I was hoping not. That could definitely have been a phone call.”
He laughed a little.
“And I know you were worried you might turn out like your mother,” he continued.
“I know you were scared of being bitter and cynical. But you don’t do cynical things.
Letting Lisette stay with you, was that cynical?
Or letting us drag you to improv practice?
Or flying home to take care of your sister as soon as she needed you?
You’re not cynical at all. You look after other people.
All the time. And now I want to look after you. ”
“I love you so much,” I whispered.
“Then can we figure something out, here? I know you can’t still work from Newfoundland, but…”
“I can.”
“What?”
“I found out on the way to the airport. Kedar said I had a few more weeks to work from home. And he’s hoping he can get me more time than that.
But I still needed to come home for Laura, and I was scared to spend more time with you.
I knew I was going to get more and more attached and then if I had to go, it would break me. ”
“You’ve already broken me,” he said softly. “I still want this.”
“What if I have to leave again?”
“Then we’d get married.” He smiled at my raw shock. “I know Lisette joked about it, but we could. Eventually. In a few months. And if you can’t get a job there, I could always move down here.”
“You’d move here?” I looked around at the New York street, the fluorescent lobby lights.
“I’m not saying we get engaged right now, but I did the math, and I figured we’ve spent about fifty hours together, with all the improv practices, and hiking—I mean if, let’s say we were going on a date for two hours a week, then that would be like we’d already gone on twenty-five dates.
That’s not a completely crazy amount of time to be sure you want to marry someone. ”
“That’s fascinating math.”
“I worked it out on a cocktail napkin on the plane.”
“I may not be able to have kids. I’m thirty-seven. I don’t even know if I even could.”
“I don’t know if I want kids. But we’d figure it out.”
My eyes filled with tears. “You can’t be this perfect.”
“I’m divorced, I have an impossible mother, and I barely had money to fly here. I am not perfect. I just want to be perfect for you.”
I put my arms around him, and he held me tight, pulling me against him so we were pressed together.
I felt a bubble of happiness growing again, and this time it didn’t feel like it was waiting to pop.
It kept growing bigger and bigger, until it felt like it could get so big that it reached outside of us, encompassing everyone around us, too.
It hit me that Laura was upstairs, and that what Paul had just done for me was exactly what Nick hadn’t been willing to do for Laura. I wanted to take Paul upstairs, but I was scared that it would make her sad. Paul had made a grand gesture, and her ex-husband hadn’t.
But I was trying to trust her. She wanted the best for me. And she would be annoyed if I didn’t give her a chance to look him over.
“You should come up and meet my sister.”
“Are you sure? It’s late.”
“She’ll give me a hard time if you don’t come upstairs. Where were you planning on staying?”
“I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I figured I’d get a hotel or sleep at the airport. I need to leave in a couple of days to do school prep. I just wanted to see you.”
“Well, if you want to spend the night, you may have to stay in my bedroom because Laura and Hannah have the sofa right now.”
“I think I could manage that.”
I led Paul quietly into the apartment, since Hannah was still asleep. Laura sat waiting for us at the dining table, her arms folded.
“This is Paul,” I said quietly, trying not to a grin like a goofy teenager presenting my prom date to my parents. Paul nodded politely, glancing around at my bookcases and the sleeping figure in the next room.
“Hi,” he whispered, putting out a hand.
Laura shook it, her expression amused. “Hi Paul,” she said. “I’m Laura, Abby’s sister. You in town to catch a Yankee’s game, or…?”
He grinned. “No, I uh…I wanted to see Abby. To talk.”
Laura looked at me, and then at him. “He’s spending the night?”
I nodded. “Yeah, sorry. I’ll sneak him out before Hannah wakes up in the morning.”
Laura shrugged. “No need. We’ll figure out something to tell her.” She glanced at Paul. “You’re okay pretending you’re a building inspector, right?”
“Just give me a pen and a clipboard.”
“Improv. Right.” Then she smiled, and I realized she was happy to see me happy. “Well, I’m going to head to bed,” she said. “You two have fun.”
I led Paul into my bedroom, and he looked around, taking it all in. The room smelled of my scattered collection of perfumes, the musty ventilation system of older New York buildings, and the city at night.
He took my face into his hands and kissed me, gently.
It was an optimistic kiss, like the start of something.
Then he took my hands and led me onto the balcony, and he leaned out over the railing to look both ways.
The view was nothing too exciting: the glow of an awning lit up on the corner, some mid-century apartment buildings in slow decline, people calling to each other at street level, seeking connection or possibly drugs.
“So,” he said, “the Big City.”
I took his hand, threading my fingers through his. It felt right, like we were facing this together. He leaned over into my ear.
“Important question about apartment living, since your niece is in the living room.”
“Yes?”
“Exactly how quiet do we need to be?”
I started laughing.
Laura and I ran into each other an hour later as she was coming out of the bathroom and I was going into it, already in my pjs.
“He looks like Tom Hiddleston, Abby. What the fuck? You said improv comedy and I thought he’d be some off-brand Adam Sandler.”
“Don’t tell him that. He doesn’t know he can do better than me.”
“There’s no one better than you.” She put her arms around me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I couldn’t remember the last time that our mother had given a kiss like that: it felt like a blessing.
The next morning, Paul was up and dressed before Hannah got up, and we told her that he’d come over early to show off his pancake recipe.
He demonstrated his cooking techniques in the kitchen while Hannah observed him curiously from one of my stools. He offered to let her flip a pancake and then carefully held her over the stove while she did so, one hand behind hers on the spatula. I watched them, smiling.
Hannah suspected something weird was going on, but she couldn’t quite figure out what.
“Are you a real chef?” she said at last, her eyes full of doubt.
“No,” he said. “I’m actually a teacher.”
“Yeah.” She considered this, nodding slowly. “That makes sense.”