by Jolie Moore
“I accept your forgiveness. I forgive you and myself. Now that we know Lucas turned out fine, I think we’re ready to love each other again,” Laura said through tears.
The officiant did the regular “death do us part” stuff, and then it was over. Just like that, my parents were married again. It was like every kid of divorced parents' dream -come-true.
“We’re having a brunch with Will’s friends. We’d love for you to be there.”
“Absolutely,” Nari said. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
In nearly every aspect, Nari was perfect for me. And I was going to lose her like Will lost Laura.
Chapter 33
Nari
Everyone always says that love is infinite. You can love ten children as much as one. That you can have love for parents, and siblings, and friends and our hearts have space for more. But I didn’t know if that was true. I didn’t know if I could hold space for both Andrew and Lucas. My breath was constricted because there wasn’t room for the two of them. I slid open my closet. The heavy door rumbled on its tracks. It was time to make space, leave room—say good-bye to Andrew.
Or rather, the memory of him. Our actual last good-bye had been hurried.
“Do you have your tux?” I’d asked. On one of the touring gigs, Andrew had forgotten his clothes. The other guys in the group were still joking about it two years later.
Andrew unzipped the garment bag. I fingered the lapels, felt for the pants. “Tie and cummerbund?”
“I’d be naked without you,” Andrew said, grabbing me and starting a little waltz. I pulled away and found the hanger in his closet with the missing red silk pieces. I placed them in the pocket. “I’d like to be naked with you.”
I looked down at the tiny baby bump I didn’t hide around Andrew. My baggy school sweatshirt that had become a uniform was on the floor. “I look like I swallowed a baby burrito whole,” I said.
“It’s the sexiest burrito I’ve ever seen.” Andrew’s hand traveled up my abdomen and started fiddling with my bra.
I batted his hand away. “We don’t have time for that. Everyone else has left. You should get on the road.”
“You sure you don’t want to come home with me?”
“We’ve talked about this. Us trying to tell my parents with both of us there was a disaster. I think you should tell your parents alone about the marriage and the baby. We tried the ambush approach and that didn’t work. I’ll come another weekend. One where I don’t have an exam or a doctor’s appointment looming.”
“You’re probably right. My dad’s gonna blow a gasket at first. But Mom will be okay. She’ll bring Dad around.”
“I think I’d rather skip the gasket blowing,” I said, sitting on the bed. I had to pee, but wanted to hold it in until I saw Andrew off.
“No matter what they say, we’re a team, you and me.” He held up his fist. I stacked mine on top. Andrew picked up his car keys. “You gonna walk me to the car?”
I gestured toward the window. Rain had started coming down while we were packing. “I’ll wait here with your bags. You get the car.”
“Ah, right.”
He loped out of the room. I heard his sneakers slapping on the stairs. I used the communal bathroom without remembering to put on my sweatshirt.
“Wow,” said one of the guys on the hall. I didn’t know him well. “You got a baby in there?”
“It isn’t a tumor,” I said, hoping he’d forget he saw me. But my hopes were quickly dashed when he asked, “Is Andrew the father of that?”
“It’s my time of the month. I’m really bloated,” I said in deflection. He recoiled sufficiently at the mention of menstruation. “Can you help a pregnant girl with some luggage?” I said, taking advantage of his discomfort.
Fortunately for me, his manners won out over his curiosity. It was usually that way here. Under all those hormones and bravado were polite boys. “Yeah, what do you need?”
I retrieved my sweatshirt, then directed him toward the bags next to the bed. “Got ’em,” he said, following me down to the huge front room.
Andrew pulled his Honda up and dashed out of the car without an umbrella. I hoped he wouldn’t be too cold on the ride home.
He hefted the bags. Then he leaned down and kissed me, dripping water all over my shirt. “Our little family will be out in California in the summer. Promise I’ll be back for that doctor’s appointment. Okay?”
I nodded, then went back to the room I shared with Daisy. I worked on a bio ethics paper. Turned down a midnight run to the a.m. p.m. mini mart for snacks.
I shook my head, stopping my run down memory lane. There was nothing but bad memories after that. The phone call. The funeral. The lingering morning sickness that reminded me daily I had choices to make.
For what was going to be the last time, I pulled out the scrapbooks and dragged them to the living room. I pulled down candles from above the washer-dryer unit. The lighter came out of the drawer. I closed the blinds and curtains. Turned out the lights. Artificial dusk made the room dark. Dust danced in the remaining shafts of light. The little specks of hair and skin and lint mesmerized me for long moments. There was no time machine. I’d never go back to being that young naïve college senior. That girl whose options were infinite. That girl whose life was filled with love and possibility.
I stood for one last memorial. I lit the candles, flipped through the albums. Cried for the last time. I didn’t know if it would ever get easier, but I was ready to grow up. Andrew was dead. I was alive. I was ready to reach for the opportunities that might remain. It may not be with Lucas. But that was okay. Now that I knew I could love again, fall in love again, I was ready for the future.
There was a knock on the door. I glanced at my watch. Exactly on time.
I stood, walked to the door and let Daisy and her awkward bundle into the apartment.
“What is all this?” she asked, taking in the smoking candle wicks, the pictures, the dim room.
“It’s my Andrew Clarke shrine,” I said baldly.
My best friend’s eyebrows shot to her hairline. But her words didn’t belie her shock or discomfort. “Um, okay.” She took off her shoes by the door, then came in and sat cross-legged by the coffee table. With a light touch, she brushed her hand over everything. “How often do you do this?”
“Every year on the anniversary of his death.”
I watched Daisy doing the math. “But you were in Hawaii last year.”
“It’s portable.”
She swept her hand in an encompassing motion. “You brought all this with you?”
“It’s what I took instead of you.”
“Oh. I’m sorry I didn’t realize the date. I thought you didn’t want me there for some other reason.”
I hadn’t wanted her there for another reason. But I decided my honesty didn’t need to go that far. I wasn’t ashamed of those drunken hookups, but I wasn’t proud of them either. “I need your help.”
Daisy’s eyes shifted. No way she could have guessed what she was going to walk in on today. “Okay…”
“I need to pack this stuff away.”
“I picked up the boxes and acid free tissue paper you asked for,” she said gesturing to the large rectangular bag she’d left by the door.
“I can’t do this by myself. But I think…no.” I closed my eyes. Then opened them again. “I know I’m ready to put it away.”
Daisy stood, squared a box, making it three dimensions from two, and started wrapping items. I watched her do it, no hand shaking, no reminiscing. One by one she tucked them in. She added tissue paper on top for extra protection. Tape appeared from her Coach purse. I had to smile at that. It may have been black and as attractive as a doctor’s bag, but with work I’d gotten her to buy one or two designer items she considered tacky and frivolous. Daisy pulled at the ends and with a loud ripping noise, sealed one end of the box. She flipped it over and did the other side.
“What do you want me to do with it?”<
br />
“Let's take it down to storage,” I said. Searching through a kitchen drawer, I found an extra set of keys. We made the elevator ride down in silence.
It took two tries to insert the key in the rarely used lock. A few more jiggles to get it to turn. Finally I got it open. There wasn’t much in the small, dank space. A bicycle I’d used for a couple of years. Rollerblades too. The other boxes held designer purses and clothes I planned to consign when I finally had a moment to sort, and match receipts and labels with the original items. Daisy deposited the box on top of another.
“Let’s go,” I said, turning my back on the space. Only by turning away could I ease the crushing guilt of consigning my first marriage and child to a single solitary box.
Chapter 34
Lucas
“What’s in Ojai?”
“My best friend, Daisy.”
“What’s her boyfriend’s name?”
“Raphael.”
I was unreasonably nervous about spending the weekend with Nari’s best friend. But I figured she’d invited them along in case I stood her up a second time. It was like going on a two day-long job interview without the prohibition of inappropriate personal questions. Given how Nari and I had finally gotten together though, I could see why she’d kept us apart. Nobody introduced the rebound hookup guy to their friends. I nearly shuddered at my characterization. I wanted to be more than that.
“What does he do?”
“He’s a standup comedian. He’s got a TV show called The Brothers Kim on CBT.”
Some of our patients were on television. I always felt bad because they leaned forward on the examination table and eyed me with a half-cocked grin. The first two or three times I wondered if they were looking for a secret handshake or narcotic samples. But Margie clued me in after she’d nearly fainted when a young male patient had closed the door behind him.
Now, I knew they were looking for a spark of recognition. While asking them questions, I usually examined their chart carefully for hints of the actor or performer. A few had asked me flat out if I recognized them, usually followed by a request for some schedule III drug. First I broke out the Waldorf background, how my family didn’t watch television. Then I said no to unwarranted prescription drugs.
Of course, I’d never seen Raphael’s show.
“Have you seen his show?” I asked. It was what I’d done for years. Ask other people about TV and films, then take my cues from that.
“I went to a taping. It’s the usual, kind of like a cross between Three’s Company and that Margaret Cho show from eons ago.”
I’d seen dozens of episodes of that old sit-com during a string of nights I’d sat by a dying patient’s bedside. Margaret something or other, I’d never heard of. No hints there. Fortunately, Nari didn’t seem like she really wanted to talk about the show.
I tried to guess what a friend of Nari would be like. Did she let this Daisy in on her innermost turmoil? What did she think about the baby, the adoption—Andrew? I wondered what her boyfriend Raphael would think of me.
Bah! I was too old for this. I looked out at the brownish green hills and held on for dear life as Nari wound her way up the 33 highway like it was the autobahn. Maybe one day I’d take her to Germany. Her lead foot would fit right in over there. My heart sunk to my toes. The future. A future with Nari. I wanted it so bad I could taste it. Only I didn’t know if I could have it.
The minute I walked into the Ranch House restaurant with Nari that evening and she pointed to the table with her friends, I realized three things. Dinner was going to set me back a pretty penny and leave me hungry, Daisy was rich, and Raphael was Korean.
Nari’s friends both stood when we got to the table. I shook Raphael’s hand. “Lucas Tucker,” I said. Then I awkwardly bussed Daisy on the cheek, careful not to disturb her headband. If Nari was wound tight, this Daisy was wound tighter. This pair made the frat boys at Dartmouth look like Seal Beach surfers.
We sat and looked at the menus in silence. After the waiter introduced himself but before he could launch into the day’s specials, I asked, “Can we have a bottle of proseco?”
Four glasses came back full and sparkling. “I propose a toast,” I said. Three sets of eyes looked at me expectantly. I immediately wished I hadn’t said that. I didn’t have a damned thing to toast to. “To a great meal with great friends,” I finally said. The customary clinking of glasses took the focus of my lame toast.
“Nari tells me you have a TV show,” I said. Great opener. I wanted to take Nari back to the hotel, make love to her, talk about our future. But I forged ahead with the small talk.
“The Brothers Kim.” Raphael stole a glance at Daisy. “It’s pretty cool.”
“How long have you known Nari?” I asked Daisy.
“We met in college.”
“You lived together?”
“The last three years, yeah.” Daisy looked at Nari. “Did you tell him about your freshman roommate?”
Nari shook her head, a small smile playing around her lips. “You were more sane.”
“You didn’t say that last year.” To me Daisy said, “We lived together for about eight years between Olde Haven and Los Angeles.”
Oddly, I couldn’t see Nari with a roommate. “You lived together here?”
“That second bedroom that doubles as a small Robertson boutique. It used to be mine,” she said.
“Eun-ji’s room?” I asked.
“You haven’t been in there, have you?” Daisy asked.
“Um, no,” I admitted.
“Before you get involved, you may want to know a little bit about her shopping habit.”
“Shopping habit?” I asked.
“Maybe it’s a Korean thing,” Raphael said.
I shifted in my seat, a little uncomfortable. The waiter came back to the table. Raphael ordered a pork chop. Nari chose a salad. I started to say something to her about getting her appetite back, but the server looked at me. “For you and your lady,” he said, looking between Daisy and I.
“She’s not—”
“We’re not—”
“Oh. Right. Sorry. If you’re undecided, scallops are a great choice,” he said.
I ordered the beef tenderloin and left the seafood to Daisy.
Raphael grabbed Daisy’s hand, rested them atop the linen. Squeezed it. The other couple gazed at each other for a long moment. The connection between them made me uncomfortable. I stood, excused myself. I took a long walk around the patio and out toward the woods. It was terribly rude, but between Laura and Will and Daisy and Raphael, I was terribly jealous. Green with envy. I wanted what they had. Love, a relationship with low barriers to entry.
“Hey there, Lucas?” I turned around. It was Daisy standing a few feet away. “I thought I’d tell you the food’s on its way out.”
“Thanks.”
“Is loving Nari so hard?” she asked. I kept my head trained forward, but I heard the click-scuff of her shoe on the slate beneath us.
“No. Yes,” I admitted.
“You know what? I found out about the baby after you.”
“You haven’t always known?”
“It was a secret from everyone, Lucas. Can you imagine having to carry around something as big as that for so many years? I was hurt, no, pissed she didn’t tell me. Because I share nearly everything with her. She couldn’t tell me something, she felt compelled to tell you.”
“I don’t get it,” I said.
“What is there to get, Lucas? She trusts you. Probably loves you. I don’t know if she regrets what she did, regrets keeping all those secrets all those years. But I do know that she hasn’t been with anyone in more than a decade. That’s gotta count for something.”
I didn’t correct Nari’s friend’s perception. But maybe I was the wrong thinking one. Nari had surely been with different men. But she hadn’t let anyone into her heart, or share her secrets until me. Finally, I said, “It does.”
“Underneath all those designer clo
thes and that bun, Nari’s got a big heart. I love her. And I’m going to tell her not to waste it on you.”
“You’d do that?” I said, not very much liking her interfering friend at this moment.
“Yes, Lucas. I’d do that. Unless you can forgive Nari and love her for who she is. Let her go so someone can.”
I didn’t sleep much that night. For once, Nari and I didn’t have sex. It was as if seeing the real thing in front of me acted as an antidote to my libido. I held her while she slept. My mind raced nearly the whole night. I fell asleep near dawn and woke two hours later, knowing what I had to do.
“Did you bring your hiking boots?” I asked the next morning after both of us pushed fruit and eggs around our plate.
Nari produced beautiful brand new looking Merrells from her overnight bag. She added padded socks to her feet and laced up. I hoped the mud crusted on my five-year-old Timberlands didn’t ruin the carpet in the room. We hiked and talked about Daisy and Raphael. It was a lot easier than talking about us.
They had to be the most unique couple I’d met in a very long time. He so clearly loved her and wasn’t afraid to show it in everything he did for her. I was having a hard time reconciling what I’d seen last night with what Nari had told me about his playboy background. Weird. I didn’t think I’d ever understand other people’s relationships. I watched her walk ahead, hips swaying. I didn’t even understand the one that I was in. The only thing I really knew was that I wasn’t ready for it to end.
We weren’t exactly alone when we got to the top of the park. Lots of couples, people with dogs, and teenagers were there for the sunset. We sat on a sandy spot near the edge of the hill. I pulled Nari into my chest and looped my arms around her waist. I leaned down to rest my chin on her hair and watched the sun come down over the valley and disappear behind the hills. They glowed pink and red just like the bed and breakfast brochure had promised. As soon as dusk fell, the crowd thinned out considerably.
