Any Way You Fight It

by Monique McDonell

  This day was looking better already.

  I had a break between open houses and swung by Pied Piper's Pies. I was hoping to score a pie and some time with my girls. The aromas of their business were wafting down the street, and I felt I was being dragged in by my nose like a cartoon character. Morning sex had made me hungry. That and the smell of warm fruit and pastry were divine on any day.

  "Hey, ladies," I said loudly as I entered their industrial kitchen. Both of my friends looked up and smiled. They had kitchen whites and hairnets on. Not the best look for either of them but hygiene matters. I’ve always loved watching them transform themselves at the end of the work day into their regular selves. Kind of the same way I peeled out of my Lycra and heels after work and turned into me.

  "Hey, Cherie, look at you," Piper said. "If you hadn't been so adamant you and Luke were just friends, I'd swear you were getting some."

  "You know she lied about that, she's absolutely getting some," Lucy said, backing her up.

  "Guilty," I said, snatching a warm vegetable pie from the rack.

  They then broke into a wonderful version of Bananarama's eighties classic "Love in the First Degree," complete with actions. "Have you two nuts been practicing that?"

  They shook their heads. "Nope. We sing a lot here these days."

  "That's because you're both getting a little something yourselves."

  "It's because we're happy," Piper said as if that wasn't the most obvious statement ever.

  "So, how is it, better than you remembered?"

  "I never said we did it back then."

  "You didn't have to. We guessed."

  "So, better?"

  Well, what did one say to that? "Different, I guess. We're different people now, not kids. It was good then and it's good now."

  "First love is its own thing, I get that," Lucy said. "Sometimes it's not that great in retrospect, but it's sweet and tender in the memory."

  "You're very philosophical today," Piper said.

  Lucy shrugged and rolled out another slab of pastry. "You know I'm right though."

  She was of course. "It's very, very good now."

  "That's so great." Piper wiped her hands on her whites and came around to hug me. "I'm so happy for you."

  "Yeah, well, I'm glad it is great because I think I'm setting myself up for a world of misery when it ends."

  "Who says it has to end? You guys are so great together."

  "I can't move, nor do I really want to, and look at his job, it takes him everywhere. When he's got you guys set, he'll be off to the next place . . . it's temporary."

  Just saying it out loud was enough for me to feel my heart shatter a little. A crack formed a fault line that would shatter when the pressure became too great.

  "I don't think that's going to happen. Have some faith."

  "Also, I'm not sure he's over his dead fiancée."

  "Have you seen the way he looks at you? I don't think you're right about that."

  "I know he likes me, and I think that look is lust for the record. But he won't even talk about her . . ."

  "That's not a good sign," Piper said.

  "Exactly. And he's not exactly an open book to begin with; he plays his cards close to his chest on the regular stuff, too."

  "Time, you just need some time."

  "That's the problem, every minute I spend with him I want more. It's bad news for me because he's going to leave and I'm going to be alone and brokenhearted."

  "That might not happen."

  "Yeah, but it very well might."

  "You're not going to stop now, just in case though, right? That's very you," Piper said.

  "I'm not. But every fiber of my being says I should."

  Chapter 19

  Aaron was bringing Luke back to his brownstone, and I was meeting them there after work.

  I hoped they had a great day on the water. The season was almost over so there wouldn't be too many boats out, I didn't imagine. The water off New England gets pretty icy, you wouldn't want to be a novice sailor and fall in.

  Luke hadn't sailed before, but he assured me he had done survival training and even been a Boy Scout. He didn't strike me as an outdoorsman, but then what did I know about him really? That was one of the issues I was having. I came from a family of people who tell you everything and ask questions. Everyone was in everyone's business. Luke's lack of sharing had me feeling like he was holding big parts of himself back from me. He'd always been like that, even when we first met.

  "Who's your college roommate?"

  "You don't know him," Luke teased.

  "Yeah, but tell me about him. I want to know." It was a stinking hot afternoon that I would normally have spent working on my tan at the beach. Seeing as I couldn't be seen out with Luke, we were again sitting on the floor of his grandparents' basement, drinking frozen cokes in front of a fan.

  "He's from Maine, lives on the lake. He's a journalism major. He likes to ride his skateboard."

  "Okay. And why are you studying business?"

  "What is this, twenty questions?"

  "Maybe?" I sipped my coke and it made a big slurping sound. "Why?"

  "Well, my folks have always done their research and you know they traveled, but until my dad got tenure, it's always been about where there was work and getting the next grant. I like the stability that working in a business environment offers."

  "Some businesses fail," I suggested.

  "Yeah, but I think I'd like to do marketing. I don't want to run my own business. I'm not that guy."

  "Which guy are you?" My brow furrowed.

  "I'm the guy lucky enough to be spending the afternoon with you." Then he leaned over and kissed me. His lips were icy cold but the rest of him was warm. It was more delicious than my coke and all my questions were silenced.

  The boys weren't back yet, so I let myself in to Piper and Aaron's and immediately slid out of my heels. I loved padding around in bare feet. The tiles in their kitchen were cool beneath my sore feet. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and went and sat on a sofa in the living room. The place didn't look all that different to a few months back before Piper had moved in, and yet it did. There were pieces of Piper everywhere in small touches. Of course, there were wedding pictures and even pictures from their reception here at the house. That had been the night I had introduced Lucy and Chase, and they'd barely been apart since. There were bright throw pillows and some rugs, a vase of flowers, a pile of magazines. The truth was Aaron's place had always been welcoming and homey, but now it had signs of Piper.

  I couldn't help but compare Luke's place to this. His place was sterile. I had almost not believed him when he'd said he had lived there for nine years. Yes, he traveled for work, but his imprint on his own home was so small it was ridiculous. Apart from his books and clothes, Luke was almost nowhere in his own home. Where were the photos or the souvenirs? He was a well-traveled guy. Didn't he collect prints or shot glasses?

  I couldn't put my finger on it, but there was something missing. It was as if he was nervous to let himself settle in.

  My contemplation was interrupted by the boys bursting in, their loud laughter carrying down the hallway. Laughter was good.

  "Hey, cuz, why don't you come in and make yourself at home?" Aaron teased.

  "Why, thank you, don't mind if I do," I quipped back. "Did you guys have fun?"

  Luke came over and gave my shoulder a squeeze. He didn't lean in for a kiss or anything. "We did."

  "I'm going to go take a shower so you two can make out in private," Aaron said, bounding up the stairs like an overgrown puppy. He stopped to call over his shoulder. "Cherie will show you where everything is."

  "He's a great guy," Luke said. He was hot and sweaty. He smelled like the ocean. Now that we were alone, he leaned in for a kiss. He tasted like salt. "That's better, wasn't sure what the protocol was."

  "There isn't one with these guys. Go nuts!" I said.

  "So I can take you here on the co
uch then?"

  "As if!" I said, swatting him.

  "Shower is off the guest bedroom, second door on the left. The towels are under the sink."

  "You're not coming with me?" he said with a pout.

  "No. I think you can make it on your own."

  He leaned in again and kissed me so long and so hard I thought I would form a small puddle on the end of the couch. "I missed you today. I had fun but I wished I was sharing it with you."

  Then he was gone, another bounding puppy heading up the stairs, and I was left alone with a fast-beating heart, love-bruised lips, and a sense of longing I couldn't quite name.

  #

  Piper and I sat at the island while the boys made dinner. It was just steaks, potatoes, and salad, but they were showing off and if it meant not cooking, I wasn't going to complain. The truth that I kept hidden from most people was that I loved to cook, but in my Italian family I pretended I didn't. Best way to prove you weren't like the other women was to feign no kitchen skills. It had the added bonus of driving my mother mad.

  How could one grow up with her and Nona and not know how to cook? It was impossible. My zabaglione was thin and creamy, my cannoli a perfect combination of sweet and crunchy, and, thanks to my friendship with Piper, my apple pie was to die for. Still, there was no need to let the word get out.

  "You ladies worked today; it's our turn."

  "He wasn't always like this," I said, patting Piper's hand. “This is all you. If he'd always been this sweet, I would have married him."

  "We're cousins," he said.

  "Details."

  "I'm right here you know; would I not have had a say in it?"

  "Probably not." He knew I was joking. "I might have just moved in to the spare room instead."

  "Well, I'm so pleased to see I bring out the best in you honey," she said sweetly, standing on the rung of her stool so she could lean over the counter and kiss him.

  "Get a room," I said.

  "We've got a whole house," Aaron said. "So we can do whatever we like."

  "You're nauseating, how will we eat?" I said, but they knew no one was happier for them than me.

  "I sampled Nona's pasta last night," Luke said, obviously his way of moving us forward.

  "Did you pass the pasta test?" Piper asked. "I was so nervous the first time she asked me. I'd only ever had about three types of pasta. I said penne. She seemed cool with it."

  "He passed. He said lasagna."

  "You didn't pass, you got an A," Aaron said, flipping the steaks. "I said ravioli as a kid; she told me I was high maintenance. I think she'd just seen When Harry Met Sally."

  "How is ravioli more high maintenance than lasagna?" Piper asked, her face scrunched in confusion.

  "I don't think it's an exact science," I laughed. "Poor Aaron had to compensate for his father. It had nothing to do with the pasta."

  "So I'm not high maintenance?" he asked.

  "Oh no," Piper and I chirped in time. "You're the worst kind, high maintenance but you think you're low maintenance."

  "I freaking hate that movie," Aaron grumbled.

  I looked at Luke and he seemed confused. "Do you even know what we're talking about?"

  He gave his head a shake and concentrated on his cucumber. "Is that the orgasm movie?"

  "Yeah, but . . . there's much more. You've never seen it?" Piper asked.

  "The truth is I can list the movies I've seen on two hands probably. I grew up without television, and we never went to the movies, I never really got in the habit."

  This was revelatory. Half of what I knew I had learned from the movies. Tolstoy could only take a guy so far.

  "Dude, really? Which ones?"

  "Let's guess. This will be fun!" Piper said.

  It would be telling at least.

  In half an hour we had a list that included the usual suspects for men, and I couldn't help but be touched that two movies we had watched together, The Princess Bride and Back to the Future.

  "Dude, how can you survive in marketing with so many culture gaps?" Aaron asked as we carried the food into the dining room.

  "Have you heard of this little thing called the Internet? You can fake your way through just about anything with its help."

  "Can you now, anything?" Piper asked.

  "Please note, I said just about," Luke replied with a very pointed stare.

  "Noted."

  "Still," Aaron said, "it's not the same as laughing along to the joke or the nuance of the dialogue."

  "I guess not, but I've muddled through okay," he said.

  He looked a bit sad and a bit uncomfortable. It was strange to me that as an adult he didn't have more interest in expanding his movie views.

  "So obviously if you're not at the movies, you must have other hobbies," Piper said, probing.

  "I guess. What are yours?" he asked her.

  "Well, I actually love watching the cricket." Aaron and I moaned on cue. "Not everyone's favorite sport. Since I've been building the business, I haven't had much free time, but I used to play a lot of tennis. I hope to resume that soon."

  "I like tennis," Luke said. "My hobbies are reading and golf. I go to the gym. It sounds dull, but I work a lot and I travel a lot, too. I enjoy traveling, visiting new places. I scuba dive."

  "I love to dive, man." Then he and Aaron were off talking about their favorite dive spots. All of them were exotic and hundreds of miles away.

  One more reason Luke and I weren't going to work: none of the things he needed to make him happy were here.

  #

  "You're awfully quiet," Luke said as we drove back to my place, where we had decided to stay so we wouldn't be late for brunch. "Did you not enjoy the evening?"

  "Of course I did. It was fun. They're a fun couple."

  "They are."

  "Well matched, Cherie," he said, patting my leg.

  "Thanks. I told you I have a gift."

  "But you're not okay now?"

  "Of course I am, just tired."

  "Is just tired like fine? Should I panic?"

  I couldn't help but smile. I'd considered saying fine. "I am okay. Just lots to think about."

  "With us you mean?"

  "Among other things . . ."

  We drove on for a couple of miles. “But you don't want to talk about them."

  "Not especially. I'm processing."

  "Processing, huh? That makes me kind of nervous." He was obviously trying to keep it light.

  "You don't find our situation requires some processing yourself?"

  "Maybe." He shrugged. "I'm a guy. It's different."

  It clearly was different. I had approximately a million questions I would have liked answered about him, his life, and our relationship, and yet I didn't want to upset the apple cart, as my mother would say, by asking them. Damned if you do, damned if you don't.

  The lights were out at Nona's. I didn't know if that meant she was still heading back from the Cape or if she was tucked up in bed.

  We headed up and I flicked on the light. Home.

  "I feel like there's something going on here that I need to know about. You seem very distant," Luke said.

  "I'm very distant?" That was a little too much.

  "Yeah."

  "Right, but the fact that you share almost nothing with me and don't want to discuss the past or the future doesn't make you distant?" I asked, kicking my shoes off as I went.

  "You think I'm closed off?"

  "I do." I was facing him now. "I feel like there's a wall between us of some sort, and I can't for the life of me figure out why."

  "I guess I'm just not much of a talker about that stuff."

  "I guess not, it's just that 'that stuff,' as you call it, makes you who you are, and in order to have any sort of relationship beyond the superficial I need to know who you are. And if that's not possible, then, neither are we."

  He stared at me for a really long time. I couldn't tell if he didn't know what to say or if he was choosing his words
or what was going on in the extremely pretty head of his. There was a silence in the room that was almost stifling. I was very tempted to say something, to explain my position further, but I'd already been clear. This was like business I realized; he was used to business negotiations. I say my bit, you say yours.

  "I think you already know who I am," he said finally. "What you see is what you get."

  That was the wrong answer.

  "Okay then." My heart shattered. "Well, I do like what I see, but I don't think that's who you are."

  I turned and went to the bathroom. I shut the door and ran a tap. Hopefully he would leave me alone for five minutes to compose myself. I pulled my hair out of it's ponytail, brushed my teeth, and peeled off my dress. When I came out of the bathroom a few minutes later in my bra and panties, a very sexy red pair, he was sitting on the end of the bed. His eyes clouded with desire. That was definitely not our issue.

  "I want to give you what you want. I want to make you happy," he said, reaching out his hands to me. I didn't doubt he wanted that. I did doubt he could do it.

  "Well, I'm sure you can make me very, very happy right now," I said. It was time to change the subject. If I was only going to have the next thirty-six hours with Luke, I was damn well going to enjoy them.

  The truth was I couldn't keep doing this. My heart was all in already. I wasn't an idiot. The more time I spent with him the harder it was going to be for me. The only way I could save any tiny piece of my heart was to let him go on Monday.

  I didn't know why Luke was so closed off. Maybe he'd always been that way or maybe he really was still in love with his dead fiancée. It didn't matter. If he couldn't be here for me, I had to be here for myself.

  This time I would control the ending.

  In the meantime, I let him kiss me until I could no longer hear the sad, heartbroken voice in my head.

  Chapter 20

  I slept surprisingly well. Maybe acceptance does that. I was running so behind we were nearly late for brunch, but we weren't. We walked in the door with Nona in tow at exactly ten. It was no different from last time except this time I was happy there was a crowd. Luke was immediately peeled away by family members who peppered him with questions.