“Yeah, you’re right, but you’d really be going the extra distance to prove your point. It would be very quixotic of you. Hey, if you decide to do it, I’m here for you. I’ll come with you.”
“Thanks. I’ll keep you posted.” She twisted her hair into a messy topknot and looked at herself in the mirror over the sofa.
ICE STORM
It was 7:15 in the morning and Sophie was running late. Ray called to her from upstairs in the office. “Hey Sophie, I’m trying to print this bill and I can’t get the printer to work.”
Stomping upstairs, she wondered if he would ever learn basic computer skills. No matter how many times she showed him how to save a document or send an email, he always forgot. Sitting at the desk with his reading glasses on, she smiled at how cute he looked. “Okay, get up and let me do this. It’s faster and I’m late.”
“You don’t have to get all pissed,” he complained. She tried to print but nothing happened. She stood up, checked behind the printer to make sure everything was connected, looked at the wall outlet, and noticed the printer was unplugged. She held up the electrical cord, waved it at Ray and plugged it in. The printer began making noises, spitting out a printed bill. “See, that wasn’t that hard,” Ray laughed.
“Apparently it was for you,” Sophie replied.
“Hey, I’d like to see you sheetrock a room.”
Sophie sighed. “Oh, Ray, I’m sorry. I’m just so unhappy.”
“No shit. Why don’t you just quit your job?”
“Oh, and lose insurance and my paycheck. That will just create more problems, leading to more unhappiness. I don’t know who said money doesn’t buy happiness, but they were wrong.”
“Find another job.”
“Easier said than done in this economy. I am having a nervous breakdown, in case you haven’t noticed. Seriously, you don’t know the half of it.” Sophie chuckled, then paused. She put her head down, covered her eyes. “Anyway, two nights ago I was reading a journal I kept when you and I broke up, and I went cross country with Kathy. Here I was, leaving because I was mad at you and then I’m writing in my journal, pining for you the whole trip. I was writing things like, I love Ray so much, I miss Ray so much.”
“Really?”
“I can’t even remember feeling that way. How on earth did we get here? We’ve lost the love. I’m not that girl anymore. But maybe I am? She’s inside me somewhere, just screaming to get out. She keeps me up at night.” She laughed.
“Sophie, I know you’re unhappy. I hear about it every day.”
“That’s just it. You say it like you’re aggravated. Why can’t you hold me, give me a hug, tell me everything is okay? You used to do that. You used to bring me flowers, make me dinner once in a while. Instead, now you ask me to fix the printer when you know I’m running late.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to put you out. I know all this. You hate your job. You hate this house. You tell me this every day. I’m doing the best I can. I’m trying to finish the addition.”
“I know, I know, and the leech field crapped out. There’s wood to chop, snow to plow.”
“I’m as frustrated as you, believe me. I can’t manage this house either, but if we run off and go somewhere and don’t like it, how do we come back? We won’t be able to afford it.”
“We can’t afford it now. Maybe we’ll succeed where we’re going. Maybe we’ll make enough money to come back here in the summer, rent a place on the Cape and go to the beach. Maybe you can golf, did you ever think of that? Maybe I’m a lunatic, but I have to try. I can’t keep living like this, the two of us working every day and getting nowhere. Just once, I want to order the lobster.”
“You’re right, you’re right. And that was my line by the way, ordering the lobster. You stole it.”
“Show me you mean it. Get this house ready to sell, let me help you. I think you’re scared, Ray.”
“I’m not scared. I hitchhiked to Colorado when I was seventeen. I lived in New Zealand for a year when I was twenty two.”
“Yeah, but we’re not seventeen anymore. Are we still the same people we were when we were seventeen? Remember when we first got married? You were going to fix up old houses and sell them? We were two young kids in love, with big plans. I’d like to think I'm the same girl with the world ahead of her, ready to make all her dreams come true, but the future is shrinking, and I’m still living in the first house we bought, and it’s not finished. We have to do it now, Ray.” Sophie started to cry as she walked towards Ray, resting her head on his chest. He put his arms around her. They stayed together for a minute or two. Sophie laughed softly. “Now I’m really late. I’ve got to go.”
“Careful. It’s supposed to snow.”
“What? How come I didn’t hear about this? How much?”
“Six inches. Just take it slow. You should leave work early. It’s supposed to be heaviest during rush hour.”
She groaned. “Well, I can’t do that. I’m going to be late, so I have to make up the time by working late, and I have that month end deadline. It’s always month end, quarter end, year end, over and over. If I don’t get out of there, it’ll be the end of my life. Accounting is like the slow march of death. The work marks the passage of time and every year it’s the same. The work never changes, and your life marches on.” She made a choking sound.
“Hang in there, Sophie. Don’t lose it on me. Okay? I love you. See you tonight. Drive slow.” Ray hugged her tight. “I love you too, Ray,” she said, still sobbing quietly.
As Sophie pulled out of the driveway at eight o’clock, light snowflakes floated through the air.
* * *
Four o’clock, Sophie stared at the clock on the wall. She walked to Tina’s office and looked out her window. Tina was gone for the day, having left early because of the approaching storm. Heavy, thick snowflakes stuck to the pavement and the cars, several inches covered the road.
Returning to her cubicle, she checked the weather. The time period from four to seven p.m. was outlined in red, WINTER STORM ADVISORY written across the computer screen in bold, red letters. She entered St. John, U.S. Virgin Islands, where it was eighty-two degrees and sunny.
Sophie and Dan were the only ones left, but Dan took the train so he didn’t have to worry about driving. She poked her head in his cubicle. “I’m leaving Dan. I don’t give a shit if I didn’t make my eight hours. It’s getting really bad out there.”
“You know I won’t say anything.”
“Thanks. You always cover for me. I owe you big time.”
“No problem. Drive safe.”
Outside it was dark, with poor visibility. Sophie walked slowly through the deepening snow, the wind blowing hard crystal flakes that stung her face.
Leaning in the car, she put the key in the ignition, started the engine, and pushed the defrost button. Searching for the window scraper, she slammed the front door, opened the back door, pushed the front seat forward and looked underneath. No scraper. Walking around to the other side of the car, she did the same thing, crawling in over the back seat, hunting around, picking up a beach blanket that no longer needed to be there. She slammed that door shut.
Walking around the side of the car, she slid her hand across the windows, clearing some snow. It was still light and fluffy, but not for long. The snow pelting her face was getting icier. Her hands were cold. She put them together, covering her mouth and blowing on her cupped hands, the steam warming her nose. Rummaging around in the trunk, she found another beach blanket, an umbrella and at last, the window scraper.
Finally, hopping inside the car, she gripped the steering wheel, staring out at the swirling snow quickly accumulating on the freshly cleaned window and muttered, “Eighty two degrees in St. John.”
She drove slowly down the unplowed streets watching people slipping along the sidewalks. The train came through town as she waited at the crossing. Passing the farm, she saw they still had their “Christmas at the Hill” sign up. Bales of hay were wrapped i
n white plastic, stacked to look like snowmen with stick arms and top hats. Several houses on the road still had Christmas lights along with blow up Santas and wise men that deflated on the lawn during the day. She wondered how they worked.
With the wipers slapping on high, the snow piled up quickly, creating an ice damn on the side of the window and freezing to the wipers, making them useless at cleaning the windshield. The snow was getting wetter and heavier. Sophie made it to the highway, where traffic was slowly crawling bumper to bumper, down to two lanes, the occasional SUV speeding by in the third left lane. A few cars were off the road in the median, mostly overconfident SUV’s. A tow truck’s lights flashed up ahead. Holding the steering wheel tightly with both hands, she inched along.
* * *
When she finally pulled into the driveway two hours later, she saw Ray working on the snow blower. He waved her into the garage. “Is the snow blower broken?” she hollered, trying to get his attention over the howling wind.
“I hope not. I think it’s just a loose belt. I’ve got to get the driveway cleaned up. It’s turning to ice, so it’ll be a mess by morning. I should’ve got this thing tuned up in the fall.”
“Okay, right.” Aggravated, but knowing he was struggling in the wicked weather, she decided not to say anything else.
“Keep the fires going. We could lose power,” he shouted.
She put a couple of logs on the fire, emptying the wood box. Checking the stove in the living room, she added more logs to that fire too, also emptying that wood box. She went back outside and checked the empty wheelbarrow. Ray got the snow blower working and was plowing the driveway. Snow stuck to the side of the barn as it shot out of the blower. She watched him for a while, smiling, then took the wheelbarrow down to the woodpile out back. The light in the garage guided her for part of the way, but by the time she got to the woodpile she was in the dark.
Filling the wheelbarrow with wood, she had a difficult time turning it around in the deep snow, finally pushing it up the slight hill back to the house. She got stuck a few times and really had to push to keep it going. She looked out towards the driveway again and saw Ray was also struggling with the snow blower, pushing it through the heavy snow in the driveway. Sophie grabbed an armful of wood and went back inside.
She watched the news in the living room. The weather girl was talking about a winter storm advisory for the rest of the evening, warning of “downed limbs, widespread power outages.” A little later, the newscaster was discussing another Republican debate. The candidates were asked who didn’t believe in global warming. Most of them raised their hand.
Ray finally came in from plowing, knocking his boots by the door and getting out of his soaking wet coat and snow pants. “Good job keeping the fires going. It’s nice and warm in here.” He stoked the stoves, got a plate out of the oven and a beer from the fridge and ate by the warmth of the fire.
"I hope I don’t have work tomorrow.” She poured herself a glass of wine from the bottle on the table.
“This could be a bad storm.”
“I know. I’m watching the news. It looks bad.” They were in bed by ten thirty, both exhausted.
* * *
Sophie was dreaming. She wasn’t young, but herself, in the present, out in the backyard in a blinding snowstorm. It was late afternoon and very quiet, the falling snow muffling all sound. Struggling with a wheelbarrow full of wood, she looked across the yard and barely made out a young man coming towards her. He waved. He was wearing a blue pea coat. He waved again as he came closer. It was The Actor.
“My car is stuck in the snow at the end of your property." He pointed towards the river. “Can I use your phone? I can’t seem to get any reception on my cell phone.”
“The power’s out. You can come inside, my cell phone was working a half hour ago.”
“Thanks. Can I help you with that?”
Sophie laughed. “Yes. Thanks.”
The Actor took the wheelbarrow, pushing it up the hill to the back door. Both of them grabbed an armful of wood and he followed her inside. A stockpot simmered on top of the wood stove. Candles were lit throughout the room. Sophie took her coat off. “My husband went to Vermont to work this week. I did reach him a half hour ago by cell phone and it’s a lot worse there but it’s headed our way.” She walked to the kitchen counter and picked up her phone. “Take your coat off and warm up by the stove. Do you think you need a tow truck?”
“Yeah.” He smiled sheepishly at her. “I live in L.A. I don’t drive in the snow much anymore. Just stupid, backing up into a snow bank and getting stuck like that.”
“Well it’s practically white out conditions. Even an old Yankee could get stuck in this weather.”
She opened a kitchen cabinet by the phone and took out the yellow pages. She flipped through, looking for tow trucks.
“Something smells delicious, are you cooking on the wood stove?”
“Yes, beef stew. When the power went out I figured I could cook something on the stove. Never tried it before. We could have some while we wait for the tow truck. It could be a while, I imagine it’s a busy night for a tow truck driver.” She found a number, tried to dial and waited. “Nothing. I don’t have a connection. Maybe the cable's down.”
The Actor was sitting on the couch. He’d taken his coat off and was now pulling off his boots. He stuck out his arm to shake hands with Sophie. “My name is Ryan.”
“I know who you are.” She shook his hand. “Sophie.”
“Oh. You know who I am?”
“What? Do you think I always let strange men in my house during blinding blizzards? I’m just wondering how you ended up in my backyard.”
“Long story. Could I have some of that stew? It smells great.”
“Sure. I just opened a bottle of wine. Would you like some?”
Snow and ice rattled the bedroom windows, the wind howling and whistling as it blew through the eaves of the house. A loud noise, like a rifle shot, echoed through the yard. Sophie rolled over in her sleep, still dreaming.
Dark now in the Ryan house, the sitting room lit only by candlelight, The Actor and Sophie sat on the rug in front of the wood stove. The Actor leaned over, took a log from the wood box and added it to the fire. He left the doors open and reached for a screen, the fire illuminating the room. He leaned back towards Sophie, put his hand on her cheek and kissed her.
She pulled away, looked into his eyes, hesitating, then put her hand on the back of his head, gently pulling him towards her, kissing him longingly. He began to undress her, pulling off her sweater, unbuttoning his pants and sliding out of them. He kissed her again and again as they made love on the rug in front of the fire. The storm outside raged, the sound of snapping tree limbs echoing in the night.
“I think I know who you really are,” she said, with an ache in her voice. “Where have you been? It’s been so long. Once upon a time you told me you loved me, and in return I loved you as if you were the boy I’d always dreamed of. I hitched my wagon to your star and I don't want to regret that. But that was once upon a time, wasn’t it? We were so young and carefree, it seems such a long time ago.”
A large thud reverberated through the bedroom, waking Sophie from her dream. The house was dark. The alarm clock was off. Sophie lay on her back, listening to a plow go by, as the blinking yellow lights traveled across the room. She heard the beep, beep of the backup lights as the plow reached the end of the road and turned around. With eyes wide open, she watched the blinking yellow lights skim back across the room. A train blew its whistle as it passed on the tracks just across the river, the house rumbled as a snapping branch hit the roof with a loud thud. Sophie shouted, waking Ray. “Did you hear that?”
“It’s the ice on the trees snapping the branches.”
“Should we go downstairs? Something just hit the roof. What if it comes crashing through?”
“That won’t happen.” Another loud snap was heard.
“Your new truck is in the driveway.
I hope a tree doesn’t fall on it.”
“It won’t. I moved it near the barn.”
“How can you say that? My van was in front of the barn when the tree landed on it during that lightning storm two years ago.”
“Yeah, so that tree is gone. Lightning doesn’t strike twice.”
“That’s not true.”
Ray rolled towards Sophie and reached for her, pulling her close, kissing her as she wrapped her arms around him. He pulled her nightgown over her head then took his T-shirt and boxers off. They began to make love as several branches hit the ground. Ice pelted against the window.
AZURE HAIR SALON AND SPA
Nan called on Saturday before Memorial Day weekend to say she hadn’t lost any weight and was still carrying two additional pounds in addition to the twenty she was supposed to lose. “It was just too stressful. It made me eat more just thinking about it. Food has always been my crutch.”
“It’s okay. It’s ridiculous she is making you feel this way.”
“You don’t have to do this. This is my own fault.”
“Nothing is your fault. It’s Olivia. I’ll see you Thursday, late afternoon. I’m taking a bus to Manhattan then the train. Nick is picking me up and bringing me to the bridesmaids' house. We’re roommates again and most likely have the Cinderella room in the attic or the basement.”
Nan laughed. “Okay, I’ll see you soon. Don’t do anything crazy on my account.”
She took the gift certificate out of the desk drawer. The salon gave her a hard time at first. They were apparently a very busy place and styled the hair of several women on the local news channels. “Oh, wait a minute. If you can make a six p.m. on Wednesday I can get you in with Andre. He had a cancellation. He's our best, most in demand stylist.”
“Sounds good.” Nothing but the best for me she thought as her heart skipped a beat. Katie insisted on accompanying her. Drag her by her hair would be more like it.
The Reverse Commute Page 20
