by Kay Bigelow
“Where’d you go?” Lindsey asked.
“Trying to decide whether Alex was playing me or whether I let my ego get in the way of common sense.”
“Don’t do that to yourself, girlfriend. Perhaps the patron made sense to Alex when she was starting out. You weren’t even a possibility when she made that choice. How do you know she hasn’t made the decision to struggle along on her own and take a job at that McDonald’s over there in order to survive and keep painting?”
“I really do hate it when you get all practical and wise on me. You can’t let me wallow in my misery for a couple days before you start advocating for her?”
“I have firsthand knowledge of what wallowing will do to you. I won’t let you go there and stay.”
Lauren didn’t reply because they were at the restaurant. She was glad they were early. What are you going to do if Evita and/or April have decided to bring Alex along? I have no fucking idea.
When Lindsey and Lauren entered the restaurant, Evita took Lauren aside. “April is arriving as we speak, and Jane is five minutes behind her. Why don’t you two go out to the patio and wait for Jane to arrive before joining us at the table?”
Lauren took Lindsey to the patio ostensibly to ask her what she thought Lauren should do.
“I think if you love her as much as you say you do, you need to sit down with her and talk about your feelings, and listen—really listen—to her tell you about her feelings. Only then will you have all the facts needed to make an intelligent decision.”
“What if I can’t do that?”
“Why wouldn’t you be able to do that? And why are we standing out here talking instead of enjoying a margarita and pico de gallo?”
“This is a small town, Lindsey. A whispered conversation of this nature will be all over town before Rachel Maddow comes on.”
“How do you know about Rachel?” she asked, knowing Lauren didn’t watch television.
I’m not sure I want Lindsey knowing I had an hour-long date with the hot Rachel Maddow last evening. And I definitely don’t want her to know I’ve spent nearly seven hours every night since I kicked Alex out of my life sitting in front of my TV.
Before Lauren had to answer that question, Evita signaled that their party had arrived.
“I’m tired of talking about Alex. I need a break from it. Let’s go have pico and margs.”
“Now you’re talking,” Lindsey said, leading the way into the restaurant.
Lindsey didn’t see Jane at first. Then Jane laughed out loud and Lindsey whipped around to the voice and saw Jane standing five feet away with a silly grin on her face.
“What the hell?” she muttered.
“Come on, Linds, I want you to meet some friends of mine,” Lauren said, pushing her toward Jane.
“You know her?”
There was an awkward moment or two before Lindsey and Jane embraced. The rest of the party sat at the table and waited for the guests of honor to join them. When they did, Lauren made the introduction around the table. April had chosen to sit next to her.
Once everyone had studied the menus and placed their orders, April leaned toward Lauren.
“I thought you told me you weren’t going to break my granddaughter’s heart, Lauren.”
“She failed to tell me key pieces of who she is, April.”
“Like what?”
“Oh, like she’s sleeping with another woman.”
“She told you why, didn’t she?”
“Too little, too late. Listen, I don’t want to be rude, but I’d like to enjoy this dinner with my friends and not talk about Alex.”
“All right, but answer one question for me. Do you love her?”
“More than you’ll ever know,” Lauren said and turned away from April to try to stop the tears from overflowing.
Chapter Twenty
Alex returned to her condo and stood at the large window facing Main Street. She watched as people passed by below her. Some of them she knew, others she didn’t know. None of them knew she watched them or how much she was hurting.
She wasn’t sure how long she stood there watching people rushing by. She wondered if any of them were heartbroken, or if they were all happy in their lives. If she’d been asked if she ever thought she’d feel the heartbreak of losing someone she loved a second time, she would have said, “Absolutely not!” But here she was, heartbroken and in deep pain. She couldn’t answer her own questions of how she could have handled telling Lauren any differently than she had. Yes, blurting it all out in a rush had been insensitive, but she couldn’t possibly have told her in bits and pieces. What could she have said, “Hey, Lauren, what do you think of someone having a patron with sexual privileges?” Yeah, right.
Alex knew she needed to paint. She still had canvases to fill and partially finished canvases that needed to be completed. Maybe she should finish those that were mostly done first. No telling what she would paint with her heart breaking—maybe an entire canvas painted black with a little red broken heart in the middle. Nope. Finishing the incomplete canvases would be cathartic for her, she was sure. But a new painting seemed to be bubbling just beneath the surface of her conscious mind. She’d work on the older paintings after she got the new one started.
By the time she put a blank canvas on the easel, picked up her paintbrush, took a step away from the canvas, and stood staring at it, she realized that for the first time in a long time she had nothing. Not even the tiniest bit of an idea what to do next. She stood a while longer before her artistic juices began to trickle once more. Just as she started to put her brush on the canvas, her phone vibrated in her pocket. Ignore it. I can’t. What if it’s Lauren calling?
She stepped away from the painting and pulled the phone out of her pocket. Her disappointment was palpable. She didn’t want to talk to Lucia, but she couldn’t not talk to her.
When she thumbed on her phone, Lucia said, “Change of plans, Alex. Considering what’s going on in Europe, I’m not comfortable going. So the trip is off. I’ll be heading to the Hamptons house for a couple of weeks. Pencil me in your calendar for the twenty-eighth of next month. Black tie fundraiser. Everything okay? Painting going well?”
“Everything’s fine here, Lucia. Painting is, indeed, going well.”
“Good. I’ll see you next month. Ciao, bella,” and she was gone.
That was mercifully short and sweet. I bet her friends are waiting for her somewhere. Thank God I don’t have to be with her for another month!
Alex returned to her easel and picked up her brush again. This time there was no hesitation. When she had the concept on the canvas, she set it aside. She picked up one of the canvases that was completed for all practical purposes. If I can complete all the nearly finished canvases, maybe I’ll be in control again and be able to create something new for the show. She put the finishing touches on the canvas and moved through her review process until she was satisfied with the outcome. Then she took a second painting from her stack of nearly completed canvases and did the same thing. As she moved the second painting to an empty space to dry, her stomach growled. She looked at the clock and was surprised to see it was nearly six thirty. She knew there wasn’t much in the fridge, so she decided to get takeout at Mamacita’s. She didn’t bother changing her clothes. It wouldn’t be the first time the people there saw her in paint-splattered clothes.
She only wished she was going with Lauren.
****
Lauren turned her attention away from April to Lindsey, who sat on her left. She wasn’t purposely being rude to April, but she just couldn’t talk to Alex’s grandmother about Alex, at least not yet. Besides, she wasn’t sure what her feelings were beneath the hurt and disappointment of knowing Alex had cheated on her.
“Surprised?” Lauren asked.
“That’s putting it mildly,” Lindsey said.
Their dinner was served quickly and there was quiet all around while they ate the first few bites of Evita’s food. When conversation resumed,
April wanted to know how Lindsey and Jane met. Lauren noticed Evita and April exchanging a glance when Lindsey told the table she was a chef with her own restaurant in Manhattan.
After she’d cleaned the last molecule from her plate, Lindsey said, “Oh, my God, you’re right. That was as good as Chuy’s, if not better.”
“Told you.”
After the dishes were taken away, Lauren felt Alex’s presence. As she turned to find her, she felt Lindsey dig her elbow into her side. Lindsey pointed with her chin toward the front door of the restaurant. “Maybe that one could take your blues away,” she said. Lauren glanced over that way, knowing now with certainty that Alex had walked in.
“That’s Alex, Linds.”
Lauren looked at Evita, who shook her head once as if to say, It wasn’t me. It didn’t matter who had invited her or whether anyone at the table had even done so. She was here, and Lauren’s heart hurt at the sight of her.
“Jesus, Lauren, she’s fucking gorgeous,” Lindsey whispered.
“Both inside and out,” Lauren murmured.
Alex glanced toward their table but didn’t approach them. Lauren watched her cross the dining room to the bar where a bag was waiting for her. She’d come in for takeout.
“Go talk to her,” Lindsey hissed.
“No,” Lauren said stubbornly. She hadn’t yet decided if it was something she should do, if talking to Alex would change her feelings of betrayal, or even if she could talk to her again.
“Are you crazy?”
“Probably,” she said. “Yes,” she decided.
Alex paid for her food, took her bag, and walked out of the restaurant. She didn’t even glance in Lauren’s direction on her way out. Lauren didn’t know whether she was disappointed or relieved Alex hadn’t tried to talk to her. Whichever it was, she knew she couldn’t have it both ways—being royally pissed off at her and wanting to talk to her. Right then and right there, she thought it was better not to talk to her. Of course, Lauren knew there was a very good chance she’d change her mind a dozen times before she fell asleep that night.
“Follow me,” Lindsey said, getting up and heading toward the bathroom.
“Give me a minute or two.”
Lauren caught Evita’s eye and nodded toward the patio; she got the message. The patio was empty because it was already too cool to spend any time out there.
“What is it?” Evita asked.
Lauren handed Evita her credit card. “Can you run a tab for the table after putting our food on the card?”
“The party is on the house, Lauren.”
“Quite honestly, I don’t have the energy to argue about this. The party was my idea and my surprise. Please.”
Evita looked at her. “When we celebrate your wedding, it will be on the house. Understood?”
“Agreed,” Lauren said, knowing there would be no such wedding party.
Luckily, the bathroom was empty except for Lindsey when Lauren got there.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“Would you be terribly upset if I went home with Jane tonight? Be honest.”
“No, I won’t be upset, terribly or otherwise, if you go with Jane.”
“I’ll be home by noon, I promise.”
“Okay. See you then. Give the table my apologies. I’m going to head home.”
“Really?”
“I didn’t sleep last night and I’m exhausted. I’m getting too old for all this emotional drama.”
Lindsey laughed. “I never expected to hear those words coming from your mouth.”
“Go to hell.”
“Right back atcha, girlfriend.”
Before Lauren slipped out of the restaurant via the patio, Evita returned her credit card to her. She’d almost made a clean getaway. Her hand was on the door handle of her SUV when a familiar voice came out of the dark.
“Lauren, please talk to me.”
“Alex, I’m exhausted, stressed, pissed, and just want to go home and go to bed.”
“Can I come with you?” she asked with such hope in her voice Lauren almost said yes.
“No.”
Lauren opened the car door. Alex closed the space between them and put her hand on her arm.
“Don’t,” Lauren said, both wanting and not wanting Alex’s touch. How can I love her and dislike her all at once? And when did I become monosyllabic? She knew if she allowed Alex even the smallest entry into her life, she wouldn’t be able to deny her re-entry into her heart.
Alex removed her hand, and Lauren got in her car and drove out of the parking lot.
When Lauren got home, Serena greeted her at the door. Max was waiting for her near his food dish. He was trying to convince her she’d forgotten to feed him before she’d left for Mamacita’s. “Nice try, kiddo.”
Lauren stepped out onto the back porch when she let Serena out. She was hoping the cooling temperature would help clear her mind, which felt like it was full of cotton balls. She was disappointed to learn cool air was not a cure for cotton-mind.
Serena was back after making a quick trip around the backyard. When they entered the house, Lauren made sure the door was secured. The trip up the stairs was harder than it had been a few hours earlier. She changed into her flannel jammies and fell into bed. Her head hit the pillow and she was out like a light.
When she awoke later, she looked at the bedside table to see what time it was. There was no clock. She knew she’d bought a clock at Best Buy when she and Alex had purchased the television. But what had she done with the clock? She knew she hadn’t taken it out of the box. So where was it? Before she knew it, she was wide awake and trying to figure out how much sleep she’d gotten. Damnation!
Knowing she wouldn’t get back to sleep anytime soon, she got up and headed downstairs. She was about to go to the kitchen to fix a cup of hot chocolate when she saw movement through the living room window that looked out onto the driveway. If that’s Alex, I’m calling the cops. I swear.
As Lauren tiptoed to the window keeping to one side of it, she again saw movement. She positioned herself so she couldn’t be seen by whoever was in her driveway. She took a harder look trying to see who was there. Her stalker turned out to be, she thought, a cougar, weighing about a hundred pounds, and she was taking a leisurely stroll up her driveway toward the back of the property like she owned it. Lauren watched her until she was out of sight. She was beautiful and strong. In some ways, she reminded Lauren of Alex. Both are very dangerous to me. She was very glad to be safely ensconced inside. Maybe it’s a sign of some sort. Maybe Alex the cougar and I are meant to be together. Yeah, right. And maybe you’re grasping at straws in a desperate attempt to go against everything you believe in to be with the beautiful Alex. So what if I am? Is that so wrong? Don’t forget there will be people who think you’re the cougar for being with a woman young enough to be your daughter. Lauren smiled at the thought of being called a cougar. If she were, she’d wear the title proudly.
Lauren returned to her bedroom, no longer interested in hot chocolate. She got back into bed, and before falling asleep she realized she hadn’t found out what time it was. I definitely need to find that clock.
The second time she slept, she dreamed of Alex. She was aware of wanting someone else to make the decision about whether she should forgive Alex. When she awoke, she knew if she was going to talk to Alex—and that was a big if—she needed to know what she would do if Alex were to say she wouldn’t or couldn’t give up her patron. From the bed, she glanced out the window and was surprised to see the sun was already up.
Serena and Lauren left the house at ten and headed for their favorite park. They walked around the perimeter, paused long enough at the meadow to throw a tennis ball for Serena a dozen times, and then returned to the car.
The next stop was Walgreens where Lauren, who had searched for the clock she thought she’d bought at Best Buy but couldn’t find it, spent way too much time staring at a half dozen clocks. She wasn’t thrilled with any of them, so she b
ought the cheapest of the lot. Her brain was still just fuzzy enough to make decisions much harder than they should be. Even at that, she decided she’d buy an Amazon Echo for downstairs and put Amazon Dots in the bedrooms upstairs and in her office so all she’d have to do is ask Alexa what time it was. There. I made a decision. Nothing wrong with my brain. Except it won’t stop thinking about Alex. Great, my brain wants to think about her all the time while my heart misses her something awful.
Lindsey arrived back at the house in time to make a decision on what to have for lunch and dinner. They were content with nachos for lunch, but dinner was an entirely different beast altogether. They postponed thinking about it until later, which meant they’d be going out for dinner.
“Without providing me with too many details, how was your time with Jane?” Lauren asked.
“The best.”
“That’s succinct. Thanks for not oversharing. How about Chinese for dinner?”
“Wait. You’re not going to ask for details?”
“I can’t handle those details right now. Sorry.”
“Stupid me. Of course you can’t.”
“Are you in love?”
“I am.”
“Are you going to have a long-distance relationship, then?”
“I’d like to have a relationship, but can’t seem to make it work in my head. I mean, I work seven days a week. I get up at four and go to bed after midnight.”
“Seriously, girlfriend, you’re working on four hours of sleep a night? Don’t you know that’s not good for you?”
“Come on, Lauren. You know I can’t do anything less and expect my restaurant to flourish.”
“If what you want is to die young and successful, you will surely succeed at that at the rate you’re going.”
“I know, but what else can I do?”
“Quit while you’re ahead?”
“Easy for you to say.”
“You know it wasn’t easy for me to make that same decision. And I know it won’t be easy for you to make that decision. But—”
