If You Lived Here, You'd Be Home Now

by Claire Lazebnik

  “It will be.”

  “It’s a little scary,” he said, swinging the car out into the street, “not knowing where I’m going.”

  “It’s good to take risks.”

  “Just promise me it’s not Cambria.”

  “It’s not Cambria,” I said. “There’s nothing the slightest bit twee about this place.” There was a pause. I glanced over at him. “So can you tell me now what you were thinking about that you still haven’t told me or do we have to wait until we get to our destination?”

  “I guess we can talk now.” One hand on the steering wheel, he used the other to pull off his baseball cap and toss it over his shoulder, into the backseat, then he ran his fingers through his hair, making it stick out. “It’s just… Back at the party—at Casino Night—when you and I were talking in my office—” He took a deep breath. “I didn’t want to go back into the other room. I wanted to stay in there, alone with you.”

  I sneaked another look at him. Without his cap and with his hair all rumpled up, he looked really young. I forgot sometimes that he wasn’t even a year older than me. Every other adult I spent time with these days was a lot older than me, but not him. “And that got you thinking?” I said, a little faintly.

  “Thinking,” he said. “And also agonizing. There was the whole Gracie issue—” He darted a look at me. “Is this okay, that I’m saying this stuff?”

  “I’ll stop you if I get offended,” I said with a stiff laugh. I felt like this couldn’t possibly be real: this whole conversation, driving alone with him in the car, everything. It was what I wanted but it didn’t feel real so I wasn’t letting myself believe any of it yet.

  He went on. “And then there was the school thing too—that you’re the mother of one of the kids I teach. That seemed… problematic.”

  “So you were thinking about that?”

  “I was trying to think about that,” he said in a low voice. “I knew that was what I should be thinking about. But mostly I kept thinking about how you looked in that red dress and how much I like talking to you when no one else is around.” There was a pause. Then he said, “Before I drive the remaining sixty-seven minutes to this mysterious destination of yours, I guess I should ask you whether, knowing all this, you still want to go there with me.”

  “How worried are you about the school stuff?” I asked. “That I’m a mother there and all?”

  “Not enough to turn the car around because of it.”

  “Good,” I said in a small voice. “I don’t want you to turn it around.”

  “Really? You sure?”

  I put my hand—tentatively—on his leg. “Really.”

  He put his right hand over mine. “I’m glad.”

  We rode like that in silence for a little while.

  Then I said, “Would you have broken up with Gracie anyway? Even if I had worn a black dress that night?”

  “It wasn’t really the color of the dress that mattered.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I don’t know if it would have happened that night, but eventually, yeah. We’ve been heading in that direction for a while.” He put his hand back on the steering wheel and I pulled my hand off his leg. “When we met, we were both on these high-powered career tracks. But then I went from being corporate and ambitious to being an elementary-school coach—and happier than I’d ever been, to my own amazement. But Gracie couldn’t understand how I could be so happy doing something that wasn’t ever going to make me rich or famous. Especially since she’s so—” He stopped. “Well, you saw her at the party. Practically chewing up poor Marley Addison and James Foster. I mean, I guess that’s how you have to be to succeed in her line of work. And here I am just hanging out with kids all day long. Which maybe makes me a loser, I don’t know.”

  “Were you living together?”

  “No, we spent a lot of nights together, but we always kept our own apartments.”

  “That’s good,” I said. “Otherwise—”

  “Otherwise I’d be driving a moving van right now,” he said with a little laugh. “Not going god-knows-where with you.”

  “Trust me,” I said. “It’ll be good.”

  A short pause. “I should probably ask you what your situation is. I mean, for all I know you’re seeing someone.” His fingers flexed briefly on the steering wheel. “Are you?”

  I hesitated, not sure whether Ryan counted or not, whether he was worth mentioning.

  “I was hoping for a simple no,” Andrew said bleakly after a moment had passed. “I can still turn the car around, you know.”

  “No! Don’t do that.” I realized my silence had given him the wrong idea. “There’s no one. Not really. Just this guy I sometimes see when he’s in town. But he travels and we’re not serious.”

  “Hmmph,” he said.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Nothing. When’s he due back in town?”

  I touched his leg again. “Don’t know, don’t care.”

  “Really?” he said.

  And I started to let myself feel happy.

  26.

  Wow,” Andrew said when the GPS directions guided us down the road toward the beach. “This is beautiful. Where are we? What is this place?”

  “My mother’s condo. It’s right on the ocean. Should be quiet today—no one comes this time of year.” I showed him where to park, and he turned off the car. “I just have to get the keys from the manager.”

  He waited by the car while I ran into the office. I came out with the keys dangling from my fingers. “Want to go on up or take a walk on the beach first?”

  He glanced around uncertainly. “Let’s check out the beach,” he said, and I gratefully agreed. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be alone with him in a room or anything: it’s just that the hope and excitement were kind of overwhelming and it was a relief to postpone whatever was about to happen between us.

  We had the beach all to ourselves. No surprise, since it was cold and windy out there. I was wearing a light jacket but it felt like nothing with the wind slicing through it, so I squeezed my arms across my chest and tried to hug myself warm. Andrew only had on a T-shirt but if he was cold he didn’t show it. He had taken off his sunglasses a while ago and must have left them in the car: the closer we’d gotten to the beach, the cloudier it had become, and here, on the sand, the sun was nowhere in sight.

  We walked down to the water’s edge. “What is it about the ocean?” he said as we gazed out at the waves.

  “It’s big,” I suggested.

  “And it doesn’t stop moving.”

  “And waves are cool, the way they keep coming in.” A gust of wind made me shiver, and he looked at me.

  “You cold?”

  “Freezing.”

  “Me too. Let’s go inside.”

  We entered the building through the back entrance. In the elevator, we backed to separate walls.

  “Hi,” he said. “Why do I feel so nervous?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I do too.”

  The elevator doors opened and we headed down the hallway. “It’s this one,” I said and unlocked the door.

  The apartment was pretty much the way we’d left it after winter break, except cleaner. Mom always arranged for a cleaning lady to come through the day after we left. The furniture was old and comfortable, because my mother said you shouldn’t have to worry about keeping your feet off the furniture when you’re on vacation.

  I tossed my jacket on the shabby plaid sofa as we came in. “Come see the view,” I said, leading Andrew across the living room to the sliding glass door.

  “Oh, good,” he said. “It’s been thirty whole seconds since I last saw the ocean.”

  We went out on the balcony, where it felt even colder than it had on the beach. This time, when I shivered, Andrew said softly, “Don’t be cold.”

  I turned to him and he held his arms open and kind of made an uncertain “Well?” gesture with his outstretched hands. I moved into th
e circle of his arms and he put them around me and held me tight against his chest.

  After a moment he said, “Warmer now?”

  I nodded, my head moving against his shoulder. I put my face up and as soon as I did, he kissed me. His mouth was literally trembling with nervousness. For such a nervous kiss, it felt pretty good.

  When he raised his head again, I whispered, “So what do you think?”

  “I wasn’t thinking,” he said. He slid his hands along my arms. His fingers were warm and rough against my skin. “You’re still shivering. Let’s go inside.” He took my hand and we went back through the sliding door and closed it behind us.

  “Now what?” I said.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “Let me think about it.” He pulled me back to him and we kissed again, longer and deeper and more confidently this time.

  Then we stood there for a while, arms wrapped around each other, my head on his chest, not kissing. “This is nice,” I said, a little sleepily. I felt warm all over now. A sudden loud ring from across the room made me jump. “Sorry,” I said, pulling away from him. I ran over to where I’d thrown my jacket and fished my cell phone out of its pocket. I answered it and then tried to focus on what Noah was saying. I finally cut him off. “Tell Grandma I say you can watch TV since you played ball all morning. Okay?” He said it was okay. “Bye, Noey.” I closed the phone and slipped it back in my jacket pocket.

  “Does he need you?” Andrew asked.

  I shook my head. “The great thing about living with my parents is that I’m covered.”

  “That does seem like a good thing.” We stood there a moment, looking at each other. “Hi,” he said.

  “Hi.” I moved back into his arms and we kissed again. The taste and scent of him were becoming almost familiar. Our growing confidence was verging on eagerness.

  “Let’s sit down,” he said after a moment, and we sat down together on the sofa. I snuggled right up next to him, my thigh against his, my hand holding his across his lap. He put his other arm around my shoulder and leaned his head on mine. We were all woven together.

  “You hated me back in Dr. Wilson’s office,” I said after a moment.

  “You hated me. You were the one who was angry. I was just trying to defend myself.”

  “Still,” I said. “When did you decide I was okay?”

  “I never thought you weren’t. You were looking out for your kid. I got it. And you were kind of right. There are kids it’s easy to get impatient with and teachers can fall into that trap. But those kids are the ones who usually need you to be extra patient with them.”

  “You’re pretty patient from what I’ve seen.”

  “Thank you.” He threaded his fingers through mine. “How about you? How’d you go from wanting me fired to… this?”

  “Well, you’re cute,” I said.

  “Come on.”

  “You are. Or at least cuter than any other guy at school.”

  “Which isn’t saying much.”

  “True.” I squeezed his hand. “You’ve been so great to Noah. It’s like—there was this moment, at the game today, when I looked at you and you were so bummed he had struck out. And later, you were as happy as I was when he got the hit. Do you know what that’s like for me? Having someone care like that? And it was because of you he did okay today, all that extra coaching… and setting him up as your assistant. He loved that.”

  “I’m glad.” A pause. “So, you just like me because I’m nice to Noah?”

  “Also,” I said, “you’re cute. Did I mention that?”

  “That’s it?” He sounded disappointed.

  I put my leg over his and rocked it back and forth. “Every time we talked together, even when it was just about scheduling stuff, I didn’t want it to end,” I said. “We’d be done and you’d start to walk away and I’d try to come up with an excuse to call you back and make you keep talking to me. I couldn’t get enough of you—I know that sounds stupid but I don’t know how else to put it.”

  “It doesn’t sound stupid,” he said. “I felt like that too.”

  “Really? Why? I’m kind of a loser. A single-mother college dropout…” It scared me a little, saying it out loud, like maybe he’d change his mind hearing it put like that. But I also needed to get it out or it would feel like this huge unspoken thing.

  He shifted so he could look right at me. “You should see your eyes right now,” he said. “So big and hopeful and worried. You can read your every thought in your eyes. Did you know that?”

  “Rats,” I said. “I want to be mysterious.”

  “I like that you’re not.” He touched my cheek gently with the back of his hand. “Rickie, I come from a family where everything has to be just right all the time. My mother is…” He shrugged. “Well, she’s a grown-up version of Gracie, is the truth. She’s never left the house not looking perfect—both her and the house. Always perfect. No matter what happens, she puts on her makeup and does her hair and smiles and says everything is absolutely fine. The day after my father had a heart attack, she was getting on the phone and telling people we were all doing ‘wonderfully.’ I mean, you’ve got to admire her but it’s tough to be her kid. You can never live up to all that perfection. Gracie’s the same way. Everything has to be perfect, even when it’s not.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m definitely the opposite of perfect,” I said. “Is that what you like about me? That I’m a total mess?”

  “No, it’s not that. And you’re not. It’s the fact that you’re willing to say things like that. You’re vulnerable, Rickie. Open and honest and able to admit that sometimes things suck.”

  “If that’s what you’re looking for in a girlfriend…” I twisted my mouth sideways. “But I’ve got to say that that perfection thing sounds more appealing to me.”

  “You’ve never had to live with it.” He settled back against the cushions and put his hand back on my leg. “Plus you’re cute. Did I mention that?” He rubbed his cheek against the top of my head.

  “Don’t be so patronizing,” I said. “Calling me cute…”

  “You started it.”

  “I have to be honest with you,” I said. “I was kind of hating on Gracie a little bit over the last few months. I was jealous.”

  He said slowly, “That night—last Saturday, after the party—she accused me of deliberately sneaking off with you to my office.”

  “Why did you invite me to go with you?”

  “I swear I wasn’t planning to. I’d just had a drink or two and I wanted to get away from her and what she was doing with those movie stars, and I saw you standing in that dress with Pammy’s dick of a father hitting on you—and I just thought I should take you away somewhere.” He pulled me closer. “Preferably far away and forever.”

  “But you didn’t do anything. In your office. I wouldn’t have minded, you know. Actually, I was kind of hoping.”

  “Technically I was still going out with Gracie. There are rules.”

  “For a guy like you, there are.” I took my leg off of his and sat up a little. “Will you tell me what she said?”

  “Gracie? About what?”

  “You told me she said something that night that made you realize it was really over.”

  “Oh.” He hesitated. “She was mad. She didn’t mean it.”

  “I won’t hold it against her. I promise. I just want to know what makes a guy like you finally say it’s over.” So I won’t make the same mistake.

  He looked down at his knees. “She said that there was something wrong with a guy who would keep turning down the chance to go away for the weekend with his girlfriend”—his voice faltered—“just so he could teach some little spastic kid to be less spastic.”

  “Oh.” I just sat there for a moment. Then I said, “I don’t think he’s technically spastic.”

  “I doubt she was using it in a medical sense.” He put his hand on my arm. “She knows better. She’s not like that. But she was angry and hurt and said it without thin
king.”

  “I know,” I said. “I get that. I’m not mad.”

  He put his hands up and let them drop helplessly. “But she still said it. And that was it for me.”

  “Would you have broken up with her anyway?”

  “I think so. But that moment just made it… very clear.”

  “Did you break her heart?”

  He looked surprised at the question, like it hadn’t even occurred to him. “I don’t think so. I certainly hope not.”

  “But it is over, right?” I said. “Definitely over?”

  He reached out and took my hand. “I don’t do things quickly,” he said. “But they tend to stay done.”

  27.

  We were alone together in a rapidly darkening apartment with a view of the sun setting over the beach. Everything felt unreal, like we were moving through an even thicker fog than the one blanketing the coastline at the moment.

  We kept doing this dance, coming together to kiss and hold each other, then moving apart again, both of us nervous about pushing things too far too fast. Andrew, of course, was just naturally careful and cautious. As for me, well, given my history and what he knew about me, the last thing I wanted to do was come across like some ravenous, sex-crazed nympho. Even if I pretty much fit that description at the moment.

  Anyway, it was nice—no, more than nice, it was incredible—just to be held and kissed as the sun sank lower over the ocean, and while some parts of my body felt inflamed and desperate for more attention, they could wait. I could wait.

  “Would it take anything away from this moment if I said I was hungry?” Andrew asked eventually.

  We ordered in Thai food and then I called home to let them know I wasn’t on my way back yet.

  “Where are you?” Mom asked.

  “The condo, actually.”

  “The condo? You mean our condo? At the beach?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I had no idea you were going there.”

  “I didn’t either. Not originally.”

  A pause. “Remember to turn the lights off when you leave. And unplug any appliances you use. Is Andrew a safe driver?”