by Lisa Lace
I roll my eyes. “Maybe you should have messaged a New Yorker, then.”
“That wasn’t meant personally.”
“Why did you even message me, anyway? You clearly detest Portland, so you were never going to stay. Did you simply want a way to fill the time while you were stuck at Laura’s?”
“It’s not like that.”
All Tom’s done since this date began has been to tell me how important he is at work, and how misunderstood he is. I’m already tired of his moaning. I’m disappointed. Tom was supposed to be the man of my dreams. Instead, he’s using this date as nothing more than an opportunity to throw himself a pity party.
The waiter clears our plates, then asks if we want dessert.
I shake my head. “No, thank you.”
Tom looks up, perplexed. “Are you sure?” He glances at his watch. “It’s only a quarter to nine.”
“I’m tired.”
“That bad, huh?”
I let my body slump and shrug wearily. “I don’t know about you, Tom, but this hasn’t felt like a date. You’ve gone to the effort to dress up and take me out, but all you’ve done is complain since the moment you sat down. I was looking forward to a real conversation like we’ve been having online. I’m not sure what this is. Maybe it’s too hard for you to separate the girl you used to know from the woman you’ve been talking to.”
“Me? You’re the one bringing up Mike and Laura at every opportunity. You’re making this awkward. If my relationship with Laura made this too weird for you, you didn’t have to come out. Especially if you were just planning to lay into me on her behalf.”
“It’s obvious this isn’t going to work out.”
“I agree.”
“Would you take me home, please?”
“Sure.”
Tom throws some money down on the table. He doesn’t even count it, just chucks a handful of hundred-dollar bills.
I want to pay for myself if only to make the point that this isn’t a date, and I don’t care about his money. But with those stupid fancy menus, I don’t have any idea how much my meal cost, and the moment is growing more painful with every passing second.
I force out a tight “thank you.”
Tom responds tersely, “You’re welcome.”
The car ride home is silent. Tom stalls it outside my apartment. It’s too awkward to wait for him to start up the engine again to park, so I open the door pointedly to step out.
“I guess I’ll see you around, Tom.”
“I guess.”
He waits just long enough to see me safely enter my apartment, and then he drives away. I’m immediately filled with a crushing disappointment, and tears fill my eyes.
After such a long time waiting and dreaming, this all seems like a horrible, cruel joke. I can’t stand the man I love. How unfair.
Tom
“Zoe said it didn’t go well.”
I frown. Laura is sitting on a stool with a mug of coffee at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, wearing her polka-dot dressing gown and a judgmental expression. Her eyes are outlined by thick, dark circles, and without her makeup, she’s very pale.
I pull up a stool beside her and pour my own cup of coffee. “What is it with you two talking about me? When did she call you?”
“Last night, after you got in. She said you two decided it wasn’t going to work out.”
“Seems that way.”
“Huh. That’s a shame. You both seemed so pumped about this online thing. It’s all boiled down to nothing.”
“That’s the way it goes sometimes.”
Laura’s frown deepens, and she can’t contain her frustration anymore. She snaps at me, her voice full of exasperation. “How can you not get along with Zoe, Tom? She’s the nicest person in the world. What did you do?”
I almost choke on my surprise. “Me? She started attacking me pretty much from the moment I picked her up.”
“That’s not how she sees it.”
“She’d already decided she wasn’t going to have a good time. I don’t even know why she bothered.”
“Because she had feelings for Tom.”
“I’m Tom. Doesn’t anybody seem to get that? TJ, Tom—they’re the same fucking person.”
“Watch your language. Jack’s in the next room.”
“Sorry.”
Laura leans in toward me. She’s biting her lip like she’s nervous. “I wanted to talk to you about the kids.”
“Really? What did I do now? Accidentally wear too expensive a watch? Use a grammatically incorrect sentence and irreparably damage their understanding of the English language?”
“Actually, I have a favor to ask.”
“It’s not like you to ask me for favors.”
“I’ve got no other choice this time.” Laura looks up at me with big, pleading eyes. “My usual sitter called this morning. Her mom’s been rushed to the hospital. She’s in critical condition. She can’t look after the kids this time.”
I understand what she’s asking me and quickly shake my head. “No. No way.”
“Please, Tom!” Laura begs. “I can’t cancel this trip. It’s a huge event, worth thousands.”
“I’ll pay for a different sitter.”
“I want you to look after them.”
I narrow my eyes. “Were you planning this all along?”
“No! The sitter called me, I swear.”
“Why can’t Zoe do it?”
“Zoe has to work, Tom. You’re going to be here anyway. I don’t see what the big deal is.”
“The big deal is that I can’t seem to do anything right around here, and I don’t want to have to answer to you when you get back for everything I screwed up while you were gone.”
“I’ll leave you instructions, and Zoe will check in. Honestly, Tom, it’ll be easy.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“Please.”
“Why? You know someone else would do a better job than me.”
“Because like it or not, you’re related to those kids. They’re your niece and nephew. They’re my son and daughter. And for the life of me, I can’t understand why that doesn’t seem to matter to you. You should want to know them.”
“I do want to know them. I just don’t want to babysit them.”
Laura scowls. “God, Tom, you’re impossible!”
“What? Laura, you’re the one being unreasonable. I know you orchestrated this whole thing, but it’s not a good idea.”
“That’s not true! The sitter called—”
I raise an eyebrow. I’m onto her. “Get someone else. I’ll stay at a hotel for the week, then we’ll pick it up right before Thanksgiving.”
“I want you to do this for me. Tom, I’m begging you. Please. When do I ever ask you for anything?”
I look at her pained expression and feel that gnaw of guilt again. It’s true. No matter what I’ve had, Laura has never asked for a thing. She’s hardly asking for the world now: a week with my niece and nephew.
“Fine. But I don’t appreciate the dishonesty, Laura. And I’m not taking responsibility for any broken bones, or God knows what else these kids may get themselves into.”
Laura grins, leaps up from her stool, and throws her arm around my neck so enthusiastically that she spills half her coffee.
I smile. It’s good to see Laura happy.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’ve got no idea how much this means to me.” She catches herself. “I mean, that you would step up when I’m out of options.”
“I’ll do it for you, Laura.”
“And for the kids.”
“For them, too.”
“I’ll write down everything, and Megan will help out with Jack, and Zoe will come by every day to check in. All you have to do is be here.”
Zoe
I sit on Laura’s bed Tuesday evening as she packs for her trip. Tom is taking one of his Skype calls downstairs, and the kids are at school. We’re discussing Tom.
> “I can’t believe he agreed to it,” I say. “I really thought he’d refuse.”
“He tried to, but I managed to talk him around.”
“I was all for keeping an eye on him before, but now it’s so awkward. When I walked in this morning, he gave me such a look!”
“Oh, don’t worry about him. You know TJ—he’s always got a chip on his shoulder about something.”
“I keep replaying the night over and over in my head, trying to figure out where it started to go wrong. Honestly, the whole thing was a bust from start to finish.”
Laura throws me a sympathetic smile. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. He’s not the most approachable guy these days. He gets so defensive.”
“Tell me about it! He bit my head off when I mentioned your parents.”
“Yeah. It’s a touchy subject.”
“I don’t get it.”
Laura puts down the blouse she’s folding. She’s kneeling on her bedroom floor next to an open suitcase, wearing leggings and an oversized sweater. She tilts her head to one side in thought, then turns to me. “Dad wanted TJ—sorry, Tom—to follow in his footsteps and become a doctor.”
“So?”
“That’s not what Tom wanted. I mean, I’ll be the first to admit that they were hard on him. He didn’t get the best grades at school, and it was constantly, ‘You’ll never get to medical school like that!’, ‘a B in English? Do you want to work in fast food forever?’” She raises her eyebrows. “They were hard on him. They had plans for him that Tom didn’t want to go along with. Over the years, the tension rose and rose, until Tom obviously had enough and disappeared to New York. He thought he was proving everyone wrong by making it big out there. Look at me, making billions even though I didn’t get the grades. I think he thought that making his fortune would be enough to make my parents give up nagging him—to be proud instead.”
“It didn’t work out like that?”
“Of course not. Mom and Dad weren’t impressed at all. Mom was absolutely wounded that her only son left the state, and Dad felt like he’d been betrayed. He’d always wanted his son to follow in his footsteps. It caused a rift in the family for years. Then Dad died suddenly, and Tom felt so guilty that he made even more of an effort to stay away. Then Mom’s mind started slipping, and he wasn’t there for that either. I think it got to the point where he’d drifted so far away, he didn’t feel like there was any way back. That’s why I’ve made such an effort to keep reaching out to him. I always wanted him to come back.”
“Plenty of kids don’t want to go along with their parents’ plans. Not all of them turn out like Tom.”
“You mean, like an arrogant jerk?”
“It’s like if he doesn’t namedrop or hint at his money in every other word, people are going to forget.”
“I think he spent so long being told he didn’t measure up, that now he throws it out there so nobody can say he’s not good enough. Look at me, I’ve got money.”
“My mother wanted me to pop out fourteen grandchildren, not start a business.” I chuckle. “Sometimes our parents don’t get to choose which direction we take.”
“All of Tom’s attitude comes back to the pressure on him growing up. He wanted to prove that he could be a success in his own right, choosing his own path. He did that, I guess, but he also cut off everyone who cared about him by being so desperate to prove a point. Mom never forgave him for leaving and not being there when Dad died. Now Tom always has this chip on his shoulder, like all this judgment is coming from me. Really, it’s him who feels guilty.”
“I wish he had an off switch for his ego.”
“He’s got a good heart—really.”
“I thought so. The person I was talking to online seemed so genuine and sincere. He was a great conversationalist and so funny. In real life, Tom’s not like that. He’s superficial and self-centered.”
Laura shakes her head. “It’s all an act. He’s a good person deep down.” She folds another item and adds it to her case. “You know, I remember him before our parents started to come down on him so hard before we moved to Maine. He was the sweetest kid around. I was so protective of him. I don’t remember when it flipped, and I stopped feeling like his big sister. One day, Tom was a big shot instead of my baby brother, and that was that. I like to think that one day he’ll stop feeling like he’s got something to prove, and then he’ll stop acting like such a jerk and go back to being TJ.”
She pulls her hand around the case, zipping it shut, then stands it on its base. She smiles. “All ready for another big adventure.”
I smile. “I’ll make sure the kids survive. Don’t worry.”
“Thanks, Zoe.” Laura pulls me into a hug, then steps back. “I know things are weird with you and Tom right now, but I appreciate you stepping in. Who knows? Maybe playing sitters for a while will help you two get back on track.”
“I don’t know that there’s a track to get back on. It all ended before it really began.”
“There was something between you before you met. If you can get over first impressions, maybe you’ll find that spark is still there.”
I turn to her with a smile. “Anyone would think you were rooting for Tom and me to be a thing.”
Laura laughs. “Maybe I kind of am. It must be the romantic in me. I see an egotistical, isolated man, and a warm but lonely woman, and I think maybe there’s something right in putting them together. You could be good for each other.”
“I thought you told me he was trouble.”
She sighs. “I did, and he is. Still, wouldn’t it be nice if it all fit together? Tom would get down off his high horse and finally come back into our lives. And you’d be not just my friend, but my sister!”
“I don’t need to marry Tom to be your sister, Laura. You’re still part of my family.”
Laura grins. “That’s sweet. See how kind you are? It’s that warmth that might just melt the ice king himself.”
“Thaw him until we reach that secret heart of gold?”
“You got it. Trust me, it’s there.”
“We’ll see. I’ll try and keep the peace until you get back.”
“Please do. I want you with us for Christmas this year. It’s not right for you to be alone.”
“You know it doesn’t bother me.”
“Don’t be silly. Christmas is a time of year when you should be with the people you love. And if you and Tom are staring daggers at each other, it’ll make for an uncomfortable Christmas dinner.”
I laugh. “I promise that if we haven’t made amends by then, I’ll keep myself out of the picture.”
“I don’t think it’ll come to that.”
“How long is the drive on Thursday?”
“A little over three hours.”
“Ouch. It’s forecast to be cold. Make sure you drive safe in case it’s icy.”
She smiles. “I’ve been doing this for years, Zoe. You don’t need to worry about me.”
“What time will you set off?”
“After I’ve taken the kids to school. Then you and Tom are on your own.”
“Okay. What’s the rule with Megan and Justin?”
“Megan knows the rules. In case she tries to pull the wool over your eyes, it’s no sleepovers and home by ten. Please don’t let her walk home alone. If Justin or his parents can’t drive her, could one of you pick her up? I know that she wouldn’t think twice about wandering home alone in the dark.”
“I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“Thanks.”
“And Jack? Any special instructions?”
“Not really. Make sure he brushes his teeth, I guess, and keep an eye on him with his candy. He likes to hide it under his pillow, which makes a huge, sticky mess. Don’t give him too much, either. He won’t sleep for days.”
“Got it.”
Laura smiles warmly at me. “Thanks again, Zoe. I really do appreciate it.”
“Anytime.”
Tom
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nbsp; It’s early, but I can hear Laura downstairs, making breakfast for the kids. I roll over on the sofa, letting out a groan. My back aches from a poor night’s sleep. I’m used to luxury emperor-sized mattresses and Egyptian cotton, not lumpy two-seaters and broken springs. I’m too tall for the sofa, and I’ve been curled up all night. I sit up and stretch, my spine cracking with the movement.
I should go into the kitchen and spend what little time I have with Laura before she goes on her trip. I have one day. However, the thought of being left alone with a hyperactive five-year-old and a sulky teen makes me want to stay away just a moment longer and enjoy the peace I have left before all hell breaks loose. Even worse, while I’m going to be babysitting the kids, Laura’s arranged for Zoe to be babysitting me.
Zoe.
I toy with my cell phone, debating whether I should contact her. Our first meeting was a disaster; our date was even worse. It seems like we’re destined to push each other’s buttons, and that any connection between us has disintegrated.
But she meant so much to me.
Scrolling back through old messages between us, I feel a stab of sadness. It’s not very often that I connect with people. At work, I have to be tough, so people tiptoe around me. With my family, I’ve made a series of mistakes that keep coming back to bite me.
Getting to know Zoe online had felt like a fresh start, yet as soon as we met face-to-face, it had all fallen apart. What’s wrong with you, Tom?
I message her after all.
Looks like I’m in charge of the kids this week. I was thinking I’d let Jack eat as much candy as he wants, and Megan can borrow the Mercedes, so she can drive herself back from her boyfriend’s in the early hours.
I wait for a reply, wondering if Zoe will answer me at all. Moments later, she does, and I grin.
I’m ninety percent sure you’re joking.
It’s hard to say. You’ll have to come over and keep an eye on me to make sure.
There’s a long wait for a reply this time. I think to myself, Congratulations, Tom, you’ve done it again.
