by Carol Grace
He traveled up to the city, then down to the courthouse. He pushed and he pulled to get what he thought his clients deserved. He tried persuasion and he tried bullying. Somehow he hammered out agreements faster and more thoroughly than ever before. Not everyone was happy with his or her settlement. But that was the name of the game. He did his best. He tried to do what was fair.
He felt motivated as he never was before. He had been nudged out of his routine by his meeting Sarah and seeing the contrast between her and the people at his party. She was happy in her own skin, they were not. She was not looking for someone to make her life complete, they were.
He didn’t know where this change was leading, but something would happen. He signed up for some psychology classes, maybe the answer would be there.
On Friday he left a message on Mary’s phone that he’d be by at five to pick up Sarah for dinner and the opera. He was glad she didn’t answer the phone because he could just hear her now.
Dinner? I thought it was just the opera. Opera? I forgot all about it. I can’t go. I have nothing to wear. But when he went to Mary’s front door Sarah answered the door. Nothing to wear? She’d found something to wear all right.
She was wearing a black dress that hugged her slender figure and showed off her long legs and smooth skin. He stood and stared for a long moment until she finally asked if something was wrong.
“Wrong?” Something was very right. “You look different. Great, I mean. I’ve never seen you in a dress before, that is a modern-day dress.”
“It’s new,” Sarah said, feeling her cheeks flush. She didn’t look like herself and she didn’t feel like herself. But the look in Max’s eyes told her she’d done something right. Aunt Mary told her, too. “Aunt Mary bought it for me. The shoes, too.” She stepped back into the room and Max walked in.
“You look different, too,” she said. Different? He looked sensational, the white shirt and dark tie made him look drop-dead gorgeous. “I…I’ve never seen you in a suit.”
“I do wear one occasionally.”
Sarah took her coat from the closet. She felt strange and it wasn’t just the dress or his suit. It was something in the air. A change in their relationship. It was like a date, but it wasn’t. Not at all. They were almost out the door when her aunt came down the stairs.
“Have a wonderful time, you two,” she said, her eyes twinkling. If only Aunt Mary didn’t expect so much of her. She wanted something to work out between her and her neighbor. Sarah knew this from various remarks Aunt Mary had made this week. Sarah had done her best to head her off. But Aunt Mary was a very determined woman. Oh, well, soon Sarah would be gone and Aunt Mary would have to deal with her failure as a match-maker.
Sarah didn’t think she’d have anything to say on the way to the city. But Max had questions about the history of San Francisco itself and of course Sarah had answers. Max chuckled at her descriptions of the colorful characters, some famous like Mark Twain, some not as famous like Emperor Norton. As before, he made her feel witty and charming. He also made her feel beautiful by the look in his eyes.
They had dinner at a small French bistro on Geary Street that Max knew about. It was the kind of place Sarah had never been to, with white tablecloths and candles. The kind of place that said romance in a very subtle way.
Over Coquilles St. Jacques and baby French green beans, Sarah turned the tables on Max and asked questions about his work. This time he told stories about his clients, withholding all names of course, that gave her an insight into human nature she’d never had before. She also had an insight into Max’s talent at reconciliation.
“I don’t know how you do it,” she said, sipping her sparkling white wine appreciatively. “Keeping everyone happy.”
“I don’t,” he said soberly. “I can’t do it anymore.”
“What?” she asked. “You’re not going to quit, are you?”
“I can’t quit, but…”
Just then the waiter came with their dessert, tiny profiteroles covered with chocolate sauce.
“You were saying,” Sarah reminded him when the waiter had left.
“Nothing. I have no answers. I just have a dilemma.” Then he changed the subject without saying exactly what the dilemma was.
By the time they got to the opera, and climbed the steps to the massive open doors, with Max’s hand on her arm, she was feeling like she’d ascended into a rarified world along with the other patrons.
As they stood in line to get in, they couldn’t help overhearing a young couple at the ticket window asking for five-dollar standing room tickets. When they were told they had no more, the girl turned and they saw tears of disappointment in her eyes. Her boyfriend put one arm around her shoulders to comfort her. Max looked at Sarah and she looked at him. He lifted one eyebrow. She nodded.
Sarah walked over to the couple and held out her tickets. “Would you like these?” she asked.
The girl stared at her as if she had told her she’d won the lottery. “I…we can’t afford them,” she said, blinking rapidly.
“They’re a gift. From my aunt Mary. She’d want you to have them.”
The young man broke into a huge smile. “Are you sure you don’t want them?” he asked Max.
“Sure. We can go another time. And besides, we have a lot to talk about. It’s hard to talk during an opera.”
Max took Sarah’s hand and left the couple looking dazed and delighted.
“I’ll never forget the looks on their faces,” Sarah said. “I wish Aunt Mary could have seen them.”
“We’ll tell her about it,” he said. “Now, what shall we do?”
“I’ve never been to Pier 39.”
“I’ve never ridden a cable car,” Max said.
“I feel like I’ve been given the night off,” Sarah said. She felt giddy and silly. It must be the wine, she told herself. But of course it was Max. It was the night. And it was the city.
They rode the cable car, standing on the outside and hanging on to the railing, they laughed, they talked, they held hands and walked from one end of Fisherman’s Wharf to the other, mingling with tourists and locals alike.
By the time they stopped for Irish coffee, got back in their car and headed home to the suburbs it was midnight.
“It’s a good thing I’m going back to work soon or I could become completely spoiled,” she said, settling back into the leather seat of Max’s sports car. She wouldn’t let herself think about ending these good times. But they would end, and end very soon.
“When will that be?” he asked.
“Just a few more days,” she said, and quite suddenly was overcome with a feeling of sadness. It was over. Really over. Just in time. Before she fell in love with a man she couldn’t have.
After talking nonstop for hours it seemed, Sarah didn’t know what to say on the way home. She had to prepare herself for real life. As for Max, he was uncharacteristically quiet, too. He seemed to have run out of questions to ask her or stories to tell about outrageous clients.
He parked in his driveway and walked her to her aunt’s front door. There he kissed her lightly on the mouth under the porch light.
“I hope you’re not sorry we missed the opera,” he said, brushing his thumb over her cheek.
She felt chills all over her arms and it had nothing to do with the cool evening air.
“Not at all. I had a good time. A really good time.”
“So did I. Just because you’re going back to work, there’s no reason why we can’t continue to see each other. I’d like to get to know you better, Sarah.”
“It’s been fun,” she said. She knew that wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but what could she say? I’m afraid to get to know you any better? Being with you makes me want more than I can have. I know who you are and you know who I am and you know we have no future together. You’re gun-shy. You’ve got a suit of protective armor and you never get serious about anyone. I can’t deal with that. I’m a serious person. After a night like to
night she wanted to tell him it had been fantastic, that she wanted more of the same, just as he did, maybe even more than he did, but what was the point?
“Fun?” he said. “Is that all you can say?”
“Max, let’s be realistic. We live in two different worlds. Not just geographically. But we want different things from life. You’re a lawyer, a confirmed bachelor with a completely different lifestyle.”
“And you’re a confirmed scholar. Why can’t our two worlds overlap?” he asked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears. “Why can’t we continue as we’re doing? Nights on the town? Overnights on the town?” he asked with a suggestive glint in his eyes.
His touch was unbearably sweet. But his words made her feel cold all over. He wanted to have an affair with her. She wanted more. He made her want more than just the life of a scholar. But less than a fling. It made her want love and marriage. Whoa. She was getting way ahead of herself. He’d told her plainly he didn’t want to get married.
“You don’t know me, not really,” she said.
“I think I do. I think I know you pretty well. I want to get to know you better,” he said. “What’s wrong with that?”
“It won’t lead anywhere,” she said.
“How do you know unless we try?”
“I just know. You’ve made it clear how you feel about love and marriage.” There she said it. Not only had he made it clear, she’d heard it from others. If he had any sense he’d know she was not the type for an affair. She’d had no experience with men. He was the first man she’d ever fallen for. It had taken years for her to let down her guard. When this didn’t work out, how long would it take for her to put her guard back up? A lifetime? No, it wasn’t worth it. She had to end it now while she still had her wits about her and her life ahead of her. The life of a scholar.
“Are you saying that’s what you want? Promises? Forever after?”
She felt her face turning red, fortunately he wouldn’t notice in the dim porch light. “I…I’m not sure. Please don’t misunderstand. All I’m saying is that we’ve had a good time, but it wasn’t meant to last. I have a life, so do you. Let’s agree to go back to where we came from.”
“Just like that?” he asked, his mouth twisted in a frown.
“Yes, just like that.” She was proud of how lighthearted she sounded when inside she felt like she swallowed a cube of ice.
“I’m sorry you feel that way,” he said. “But I’m not taking no for an answer.” Then he turned and left.
Sarah went in the house and collapsed on the sofa. Fortunately her aunt had gone to bed and couldn’t see the tears that shook her. She buried her face in a throw pillow and sobbed. When she finally stopped, she told herself that even though Max was used to getting what he wanted, this time she’d stand firm. She had her own happiness, her peace of mind to preserve. If only she were a different woman and he was a different man then maybe she’d agree. Let’s date, let’s have an affair, she’d say. But she wasn’t and she couldn’t say that.
How could two people be more different than they were? It was time to end this relationship, if you could call it that, and get back to real life. It was time to stop dreaming. Sarah blew her nose, took off the black dress and went to bed. But not to sleep. Not to sleepwalk, either. She lay there wide-awake, plotting her return to the city.
The next day Sarah and her aunt were on their way out of the computer store with a top-of-the-line laptop computer with all the bells and whistles and a brand-new cell phone. That was when she got up enough nerve to tell her aunt she had to go home to the city. Then and now.
Mary looked puzzled and disappointed. “Is it something I’ve done?” she asked.
Sarah managed a smile. “Of course not. I love being here with you, it’s just…”
“Does this have something to do with Max?”
Sarah felt the heat rise to her face. “I like him a lot, Aunt Mary,” she said, tired of keeping it to herself. “I’m afraid I like him too much.”
“Nonsense. How can that be?”
“I’m not the type for a casual flirtation.”
“Of course not,” her aunt said, standing in the middle of the parking lot with the computer in a cart in front of her. “Is he?”
Sarah nodded. “I’m afraid so. He’s made it quite clear he’s not cut out for marriage. I don’t blame him, not after what he’s seen as a divorce attorney. And not that he’d want to marry me even if he was interested in marriage. I barely know him. I went to his party, I had dinner with him one night, and a picnic another time, he came to my presentation, then he gave me a few swimming lessons and then the opera which we didn’t see.”
“Hmm,” her aunt said. “I had no idea you’d spent so much time together.”
“We didn’t. I mean, it seems like more than it was. What I learned about him is that his job has contributed to his outlook on life. As my job has to mine. I can’t change that.”
“So you’re determined to leave and not see him again, ever?” her aunt asked, her forehead creased, her mouth turned down at the corners.
“Don’t say it like that, Aunt Mary. I’m determined to do what’s best for me and for him. Is that so wrong?”
Once they unloaded the new equipment into her car, her aunt gave her a hug and answered her question.
“Of course it’s not wrong, dear. You do what you have to do. Before you get your heart broken,” her aunt said. “I understand completely. And I feel somewhat responsible.”
“Not at all. You mustn’t blame yourself.”
“But I thought, I even hoped…”
“I know. Now let’s pretend I never mentioned it. And I hope you’ll explain to Max that I left because of my work and not because of him.”
Her aunt nodded soberly and was quiet during the ride back to her house. After they spent the afternoon setting up Aunt Mary’s computer and programming her cell phone, Sarah packed her bags and left early the next morning. She deliberately avoided glancing at the house next door, not even a peek in the rearview mirror as she drove down the street. But she couldn’t help the tears that streamed down her face as she drove away.
She told herself she was crying because a brief interlude in her life was over. Not because she’d fallen in love with a man she couldn’t have. This wasn’t love. It couldn’t be. You couldn’t love someone you scarcely knew.
She was on her way home, back where she belonged, where there would be nothing to remind her of Max.
Max heard her car start that morning and watched her leave from the window upstairs. So she was gone out of his life. Before he’d had a chance to tell her how special she was, how different from any other woman he’d ever known. He wondered if he’d ever get tired of hearing her stories, if he’d ever get tired of watching the color rise in her cheeks when she got excited or embarrassed. Would he ever get tired of looking at her, whether in a swimsuit, nightgown or long historical dress?
The idea of never seeing her again made him feel empty inside. Why? He’d been happy before she came, he’d be happy now that she was gone, wouldn’t he? Just as soon as he got used to the idea. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. He’d never felt this way before, as if he was losing something precious.
For the rest of the summer she wouldn’t be hanging around the patio in her swimsuit, she wouldn’t be next door working on her computer, her attention focused on her work.
He wouldn’t see her face light up as she described the characters out of the past. He wouldn’t hear the enthusiasm in her voice as she painted word pictures of life in California as it once was. He wouldn’t be able to just knock on her door when he felt like it.
What was so wrong with seeing her in the city? She’d sure put the kibosh on that idea. He’d pictured himself going to the Mission Dolores and having her explain it to him, or visiting one of the old schooners anchored in the Bay with her leading the way down the narrow steps to the galley. The city was full of historical sites that he had an unquenchable de
sire to see and hear more about.
There were picnic spots, too, Golden Gate Park, for example, or Ocean Beach or the Marina Green. All of which he’d seen, but not with Sarah. Where they could lie on the grass or the sand and munch on bread and cheese and fresh fruit. There was a whole world out there he wanted to explore with her. But she said it was over. She wouldn’t see him. She’d made that clear. Only he didn’t accept it. He’d told her he wouldn’t take no for an answer and he meant it. He didn’t get where he was by giving in too soon.
Chapter Twelve
Sarah was working hard on her speech for the historical society. If she thought it would be easy to concentrate once she got back to the city, she was wrong. Two weeks had gone by and still her mind constantly wandered back to the house next door to Max’s. She was glad to have a lot of work to do. It kept her mind off the events of those few days she’d spent with Max. She hadn’t heard from him. She didn’t expect to. She’d spoken to her aunt a few times but neither one had mentioned her handsome neighbor. What was there to say, after all? She didn’t want her aunt to think she’d fallen in love with a man who was so wrong for her.
Aunt Mary would feel bad, maybe even guilty for asking her to house-sit and for asking him to look out for her. Besides, what made her think she’d fallen in love? How did she know what falling in love felt like? How did she know what it was that made her mood swings so violent, sometimes giddy with the memories of Max and the good times, other times plunged into despair at the realization that those good times were gone forever and that it had been her decision to end it so abruptly.
By the next week she was as prepared as she could possibly be with a speech on the Gold Rush. It was a subject she knew quite well and enjoyed talking about. It was also popular with the general public, more popular than say, talking about the missionary period. The lecture had been advertised in the local papers and the hall at the society was full that Saturday morning.
