Getting Back

by Cindy Rizzo

  They were both quiet for a moment. Elizabeth’s body tensed up. Maybe she’d judged the situation incorrectly. It might be too difficult for a child to hear something so personal about his own mother. She recalled Ruth saying something about that with regard to Lauren.

  “Mom says you two have been spending some time together. I was really happy for her when I heard that, but now that I’ve met you I’m also happy for me.”

  Her body relaxed. She turned to him and smiled. “Especially now that all of Hollywood thinks I’m your second mom, or I should say, your third mom. I’ve met Helena. She’s delightful.”

  “Yeah, my sister and I lucked out in the parent department. Oh, and I’ll do what I can to correct the record on what was said at the event about you being my mother.”

  “If it’s all the same to you, Mark, why don’t you just let it be for now. It’s my experience that the more we try to correct these kinds of misunderstandings the more attention we draw to them.”

  “Is that the type of thing you learn in publishing?”

  “Yes, and in life.”

  Chapter 17

  October 2008

  Elizabeth had been away less than a week, but it somehow felt much longer. Is this what it would be like to be in a relationship with Ruth—to miss her desperately just after only a few days? She’d never felt this with Gretchen or with anyone else. Business travel was something she enjoyed, and she only regretted the mountain of work that awaited her upon return.

  She reached for her phone as soon as she felt the plane touch the tarmac at JFK.

  “Hi, I’m back.”

  “Great. Are you at home?”

  “Um, no. I’m still on the plane. We just landed.”

  Well, she was thoroughly exposed. Ruth now knew how important she was to Elizabeth. She might as well go for broke.

  “When can I see you?”

  “Tonight? Tomorrow night?”

  “Let’s say tomorrow since I’ll be exhausted from traveling tonight.”

  She quickly looked around the first-class cabin to make sure nobody was listening in on her call.

  “Oh and Ruth, uh, maybe you should…” She lowered her voice. “…Pack a toothbrush?”

  Ruth’s laugh was infectious. Elizabeth couldn’t help but do the same.

  “Subtle and smooth,” said Ruth.

  “I know. But I guess I wanted to tell you in my own awkward way that it’s what I want. Very much.”

  Anticipating that thoughts of the night ahead with Ruth would make sleep difficult, she decided she needed to again rely on the wonders of modern medicine. When she arrived home, she quickly unpacked and then took an Ambien, washing it down with chamomile tea. There was also the day ahead at the office to consider. She’d need to be adequately rested for that as well, although she knew that thoughts of Ruth could subvert any attempt she’d make to focus.

  It had been a big step to ask Ruth to spend the night. As Elizabeth lay in bed waiting for the pill to take effect, she imagined Ruth lying next to her, dark hair falling over her forehead, messy from sleep. Well, not just from sleep. Elizabeth’s body warmed at the thought of their lovemaking. She hugged her pillow and smiled. Her last conscious thought was a question. Could this really work out after so many years?

  The next day, she tried to spend as little time alone as possible, hoping that interacting with her staff would prevent her mind from wandering. It might also make the hours go by more quickly.

  “So how was LA?” Reese asked as she entered Elizabeth’s office. A silver tea set had been arranged on a tray next to the small leather sofa. Elizabeth noticed Reese catch sight of it. “Is this for me? For us, I mean?”

  “I figured it was close enough to four o’clock.” She pointed to the tray. “There’s Earl Gray brewing. Will that be all right for you?”

  She hadn’t meant to use the Queen Elizabeth voice with Reese. It had become a sort of habit with staff, but Reese was now more than just an employee.

  “There are other kinds of teas, if you prefer something else.”

  There. She’d modulated her voice and taken the edge off. The whole purpose of ordering the afternoon tea was to treat Reese to something more personal. Elizabeth hoped she hadn’t ruined the mood.

  “LA was interesting I would say,” she responded as she lifted the teapot to pour for both of them. “I’m sure you’ll be pleased to hear that I attended a fundraiser in Beverly Hills for No on 8. It was hosted by Terrence Carr, the head of Horizon Studios, and his partner, David. Oh, I guess I should say husband, shouldn’t I?”

  “Wow. Was this something Margaret was involved with?” Reese bit her lower lip and looked down at her lap. “Is it okay for me to bring her up?”

  Elizabeth waved away Reese’s concern. “It’s fine. She’s my best friend, so her name is bound to come up, especially after a trip to LA.”

  She raised the plate of biscotti so Reese would take one.

  “Yes, Margaret arranged this little outing. She wanted me to accompany Pam Randall.”

  “The actress? You met her?”

  “Reese, I’ve met a lot of famous people and you will too. After a while, it isn’t such a thrill. But I will tell you someone notable that I did meet. Ruth’s son Mark. He was volunteering at the fundraiser.”

  “He’s gay?”

  “No, he is what they referred to as a straight ally.” Elizabeth completed her response with air quotes.

  Reese smiled, but then quickly her expression changed to one of concern.

  “Wasn’t he upset that you would come to the event with Pam Randall? I mean, he knows you’re seeing his mother, right?”

  “He does, but Pam and I barely spent a moment together. Fortunately, she found a nice woman to occupy her. I told her all about Ruth and she was incredibly sweet and helpful. I think we are becoming good friends.”

  “So what was he like? I mean, Mark?”

  “Oh, wonderful. Attractive and bright and personable. He came back with me to the hotel and we spent hours talking about his life, my life, and all the things we have in common. I adore him.”

  Reese put down her cup and looked off to the side. Elizabeth watched her, trying to understand the change in her mood. She seemed somber, almost sad. Elizabeth reached over and gently placed her hand under Reese’s chin, steering it so Reese would once again be facing her.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked. “You’re troubled about something.”

  “I-I guess I was thinking that, well, if you and Ruth, you know, get serious. I mean, if you became partners, well, then Mark and Lauren would be your stepchildren.”

  That was all Elizabeth needed to hear to understand that Reese was experiencing the same feelings of irrelevance that she herself had felt at the ACLU dinner. She took both of Reese’s hands in hers.

  “Sweetie, look at me.”

  Elizabeth did her best to convey the warmest feelings she could, hoping that the little term of endearment would help. She wasn’t practiced at parental shows of affection, but she was determined to reassure Reese that she cared.

  “Whether or not anything ever happens with Ruth or Lauren and Mark, it doesn’t change anything with regard to you and me. The offer I made to you recently regarding adoption, I’d still very much like to move forward with it, that is, if you want to.”

  Reese’s eyes were wide; a small smile blossomed.

  “Can we do it before Jaret and I get married?” Her voice was sweet and childlike. It made Elizabeth wish that she’d known Reese as a little girl.

  “Of course. I’ll get my attorney working on it right away.”

  Reese nodded. Elizabeth placed her lips on Reese’s forehead and she slid over for a hug.

  “Mom,” she said.

  Elizabeth looked down at her
and smiled.

  Chapter 18

  October 2008

  Elizabeth walked home from the office in an attempt to burn off her nervous energy. She’d called Max to tell him to take the weekend off.

  “On second thought, Max, take the week. You haven’t had a vacation in forever.”

  “Ms. Morrison I had time off while you were in LA.”

  “That wasn’t time off. You were on call for everyone in the C-Suite. Why not go visit your granddaughter up at Fowler. In mid-October the foliage is breathtaking. I’ll call ahead and get you a room at the college’s hotel.”

  She’d been meaning for some time to make him take a vacation and encouraging this visit would give him the motivation he needed. Besides, if all went well with Ruth tonight, she was hoping not to need a driver through the weekend. Knowing Max, he’d be back at work by Tuesday.

  She was rarely this anxious about sex. Planned or unplanned, it usually just happened without extensive thought or preparation beyond a shower. But, of course, as with all other things, it was different with Ruth.

  Would they lapse back into what they’d done in college? Did Ruth still like the same things in bed? She certainly hoped so. In spite of the years she’d spent denying it, sex with Ruth was the best she’d ever had. Was that because they’d been in love? She didn’t know. But she imagined that plenty of couples who say they’re in love don’t always have great sex.

  She stood in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom dressed only in her bra and panties. How much had her body changed in thirty years? Oh, God, it was nothing like it had been, nothing like what Ruth would remember. She pushed up her breasts and then adjusted her bra straps to lift them. She raised an arm and felt the small amount of flab that hung down. She leaned close and inspected every line on her face. Was that brown spot a mole or beauty mark? Aren’t all beauty marks moles? Was that little hair right below her chin there yesterday?

  She stood straight and lifted her head, keeping her shoulders slightly back. This type of body loathing was the antithesis of everything she’d been taught at Fowler about feminism. She didn’t look horrible for fifty-two. Surely Ruth wasn’t expecting anything spectacular? She herself also had a fifty-two-year-old body. But when Elizabeth thought of Ruth and remembered their closeness and the feel of Ruth’s arms around her, all she felt was a burning desire to touch that body, to discover how the years had changed it and what might still be the same. Her need was enormous and it engulfed all of her fears. She removed her bra and panties and went to get in the shower.

  After the doorman’s call, she stood in her entry foyer filled with nervous excitement. As soon as she heard the first knock, she opened the door and grinned at the sight of Ruth, who had a stylish black canvas overnight bag slung over her shoulder. She pulled her inside, shut the door, grabbed onto her shoulders, and leaned in to kiss her hello. Ruth let the bag slip off her arm and drew Elizabeth even closer. The softness of Ruth’s lips and tongue fueled her need and she began to frantically unzip Ruth’s jacket and reach inside to unbutton her shirt. She needed to feel skin; she needed her hands to be everywhere.

  She pulled back from Ruth’s mouth, her breathing ragged. “I need you now,” she said in a hoarse voice she hardly recognized.

  Ruth kissed her again, this time more gently. As Elizabeth’s hands were roaming inside Ruth’s opened shirt, beginning to reach for the bra clasp, she felt Ruth’s grip on her waist tighten.

  “Honey, honey,” Ruth whispered into her neck. “Slow down. Come sit with me. I want to hold you.”

  Elizabeth was surprised and a bit disoriented at this turn of events. As Ruth led her toward the couch, she asked, “I thought you’d want… Don’t you?”

  Ruth brought Elizabeth onto her lap and wrapped her arms around her.

  “Of course I do, but I also want to say hello and hold you and tell you how much I missed you.”

  Elizabeth rested her head on Ruth’s chest, feeling warm and comforted, but still aroused.

  “I discovered something while I was in LA,” she said.

  “My son, for one thing.”

  “Well, yes, but what I was going to say is that I discovered how much I could miss you.”

  Ruth kissed the top of her head.

  “But you’re right. I was really glad to meet Mark. He’s very handsome and so sweet. And, yes, you and Margaret were right. It was quite unsettling how much he resembles me. You didn’t encourage him to watch Casablanca or read Thomas Hardy, did you?

  She felt the rumble of Ruth’s silent laugh against her body.

  “No, and even if I did, I couldn’t have forced him to love Jude the Obscure the way you did.”

  “Oh God. I didn’t dare go to his apartment. I was so worried that it would be like walking into mine. I’m really baffled by this, Ruth. Part of me can’t wait to see him again and another part is fearful of what else I might discover.”

  Ruth sighed and ran a hand through Elizabeth’s hair. “Maybe it would have been easier if I had been there.”

  She kissed Ruth’s shoulder.

  “The whole trip would have been easier if you’d been there. But I have to admit, looking at him was like looking in a mirror. Even after you and Margaret told me about the resemblance, I never expected I’d agree with the two of you when I finally met him. I mean, he never appeared to be a male version of me in any photos I’d seen. But maybe that’s because the last picture of him I have is over ten years old.”

  She felt Ruth’s body move slightly against her.

  “You have a photograph of him?”

  “At your father’s funeral. It was in the Times.”

  “Oh, yes. I recall it was not a very good photo.”

  “You appeared to be tired.”

  “You remember that?”

  “I should. I was looking at it recently.”

  “Where?”

  “Well, the answer to that question is probably best explained by me getting out of this incredibly comfortable and perfect position and showing you something.”

  “Hmmm, that is a dilemma. I’m not sure I’m ready to let go of you.”

  “Only for a minute, darling.”

  The word made them both freeze in place. Elizabeth was the first to move, rearranging herself so they were face-to-face.

  “You called me…”

  “Yes, I did.”

  Ruth’s lips were parted, her eyes a question.

  “It wasn’t a mistake,” she whispered and then kissed Ruth. “I’ll be right back.”

  She returned quickly with the scrapbook.

  They sat side by side as Elizabeth opened it to the first blank page, explaining to Ruth that it had been her insurance policy against accidentally seeing the old college pictures.

  “But I finally did look at them right before the reunion hoping they would inoculate me against falling apart when I saw you.”

  “I had no idea you’d be so worked up about seeing me. I guess because I was sure that it was me who’d be falling apart.”

  Elizabeth placed her finger next to a picture. “Look at you with your long hair. That was taken right after we got together.”

  Ruth pointed to a photo of Elizabeth next to her favorite tree in the grove. “You were such a beautiful young woman. How could I have helped but fall in love with you. I’m surprised you still have all these college pictures.”

  “Ruth, this isn’t just a college photo album. It’s a scrapbook filled with pictures and articles about you. I’ve been adding to it all these years.”

  She handed the book to Ruth opened to the page with the article about Leon Abramov’s funeral.

  “This is the photo of Mark that I mentioned.”

  Ruth covered her face with both hands and shook her head back and forth.
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  “I can’t believe it. You did this too. I would never have thought you would also…”

  “What?”

  “I have file folders at home filled with articles about you. They aren’t arranged as nicely as this book, but I think I’ve saved everything I could find, including every photo of you at an event with one of those Hollywood women. Looking at those was my own version of self-imposed torture.”

  “I never thought you’d run across any of those. They were mostly in these little gay blogs.”

  “The Google alert I set up with your name seemed to catch everything.”

  “As did the one I set up with yours.”

  “Oh no, we are pathetic,” said Ruth.

  Elizabeth’s body shook with laughter prompting Ruth to join in and draw her close.

  “At least you saw that my sense of fashion improved over the years. Take a look at this outfit from college.” Elizabeth pointed to a photo of her in what she now thought of as a hideous outfit.

  “You know, it never mattered what you were wearing. You always looked amazing, dressed or undressed.”

  Ruth closed the book and laid it down on the table. “Let’s return to this later, all right?”

  Ruth lifted Elizabeth’s hands in hers and kissed each one, placing them back onto the front of her shirt.

  “You re-buttoned these,” said Elizabeth. “That won’t do.”

  She began to slowly unbutton Ruth’s shirt, kissing each small area of skin that became exposed. Her hands resumed doing what she’d begun when Ruth arrived, touching skin and reaching back. This time Ruth didn’t stop her. As she unclasped Ruth’s bra, she kissed that tender spot below her left ear and received the same satisfying moan of desire she remembered.

  “I don’t think you’ve seen the bedroom yet, have you, darling?” she whispered.

  “No.” Ruth’s ragged voice betrayed her need.