The Scenic Route

by Devan Sipher

  Carlos realized she was considering doing this thing. This tacky American thing. But why? The sum total of Steffi’s business experience seemed to be a penchant for shopping. And he couldn’t see Naomi getting creative satisfaction from packing up boxes of chocolate and marzipan. What would motivate her to even consider such a time-consuming and unworthy project?

  And that was when he realized just how hard she was working at pretending to be happy with her life. She wasn’t with him because of love. Or lust. Or even idolatry. Which he could live with. She was with him because of entropy. The work required to stay was less than the work required to leave. And the reason he understood this so clearly was because he felt the same.

  He didn’t want drama. He didn’t want tears. He didn’t want to sleep in separate rooms while she looked for another place to live. He didn’t want to have to find someone new, and he didn’t want to worry if they would be as forgiving about his back hair and his acid reflux. He didn’t want any of it. But he also didn’t want this. He didn’t want to claim to love someone when in truth he was hurting her. And he was hurting her more than he liked to admit. He was hindering her ambitions. He was siphoning her youth. Every day they remained together left her with one day less vitality, and in time she would blame him for it, if she didn’t already.

  Steffi and Naomi were talking with increased animation. Naomi was taking notes. They discussed numbers and dollars and clicks and eyeballs. There were apps and aggregators and search engines and site optimization. There were unfamiliar words and words that came in unexpected combinations. They kept coming faster and faster. And it wasn’t just the words; it was the world that was moving faster. Carlos felt less and less motivated to try to keep up.

  It just took too much effort.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “I know this isn’t going to be easy for you.”

  “Jesus, Len,” Austin said.

  “But I don’t see any other option.”

  “Jesus, Len,” Austin repeated.

  “The world is changing, and we have to change with it.”

  “You’re not changing,” Austin objected. “You’re leaving.”

  “That’s not fair,” Len said. “The deal from square one was that I was going to retire by the time I was sixty. I’m almost sixty-two, and there’s no end in sight. No new partner. No one to buy me out. This practice was supposed to be my retirement egg.”

  Austin looked in his hands at the literature Len had given him. Optimum Health Inc. There were glossy pictures of smiling patients and empathetic doctors. There were graphs of the “vast network” of devoted medical professionals. It was bullshit. This was a corporation. Plain and simple. Len was talking about selling their practice to a corporation and leaving Austin to be a drone working for faceless bureaucrats who could second-guess his medical decisions and fire him anytime they wanted. This was the antithesis of everything Austin planned for his life.

  “Cindy’s going to take me for everything she can,” Len said. As if that made the situation better. “But it’s worth it. Life is worth it. Being happy is worth it.”

  “I’m not happy, Len.”

  “You should be. You have a nice home. A nice girlfriend. And the practice isn’t going anywhere. It’s actually going to be a lot easier for you. Less overhead. Less responsibility.”

  “What if I took out a second mortgage on my house?” Austin said. “I could give you more money up front.”

  “I said you had a nice house. I didn’t say it was worth anything. The housing market is shit in Michigan. The only good part for me is Florida is just as bad. Joanne and I have found a nice place only a few miles from the Bolletierri Tennis Academy.”

  “How long has this been going on with you and Joanne?” Austin asked. But what he really wanted to know was had they been having sex in the office.

  “She’s everything Cindy isn’t.”

  “Meaning she’s younger.”

  “Hey, she’s not twenty-five.” No, Joanne Friedman was a fortysomething childless divorcée who was their vivacious, gourmet-cooking office manager. Austin wasn’t only losing a partner and a practice. He was also losing a great coq au vin.

  “Just meet with these people,” Len said. “There’s a woman, Hope Cassidy. She’s a doctor. I think you’ll like her.”

  “And if I don’t like her?”

  “Austin, I’m doing you a favor. Sure, if I wasn’t cash starved at the moment, we could hold out for a few more years. But the writing is on the wall.”

  Austin wasn’t sure about the writing on the wall, but the clock on the wall said he was already twenty minutes behind schedule, and he had a full docket of patients. If any of them were under sixty-five and on private insurance, he might even make some money for the day’s labor. Maybe Len was right. Maybe it was better to just take his paycheck and let someone else worry if the numbers added up. He stuck the brochure in the pocket of his white coat. But he couldn’t stop thinking it represented an evil empire and the end of medicine as a noble and humanitarian profession.

  “You can’t get hung up on doing things the old way,” Len said. “Take it from someone who’s been around a little longer than you. The past is always changing.”

  “Don’t you mean the future?”

  “Yeah, that too.”

  Naomi was reading an old copy of People when Austin came out. She had just picked it up to occupy her mind and to keep her hands from shaking.

  It was stupid for her to be sitting there in his waiting room. Crazy-stupid. She didn’t know what she was thinking. Other than she wasn’t thinking. No, that wasn’t true; all she was doing was thinking. She had spent the last four months thinking so much her brain hurt.

  When Carlos broke up with her, she had at first been devastated. It was everything her mother had predicted. But worse. Instead of investing six months of her life, she had invested two years. And instead of walking away with her head held high, she had been kicked to the curb. No, not kicked. He was quite the gentleman about it, offering to sleep in the guest bedroom until she figured out what she was doing. He didn’t even give her a reason. She said horrible things to him. Things she never thought would come out of her mouth. Things about his European snobbishness. Things about his performance in bed. And she had no idea why. Other than wanting to get a reaction out of him. Wanting some kind of emotional response to show that he cared about her. But he took it all with a sad expression and never fought back. As if she wasn’t even worth the effort.

  She had no friends in Madrid. No real friends that weren’t also Carlos’s friends. They mostly dropped her as quickly as he did, with even less graciousness. She was supposed to be scouting merchandise for Steffi, but she couldn’t bear to stay any longer at Carlos’s place and couldn’t afford to get a place of her own.

  She packed up her belongings, deliberating if she should keep the designer clothing and jewelry Carlos had bought her before deciding she had earned them. In the oldest way possible. She even let Carlos buy her one last gift: a Balenciaga suitcase to help get her stuff to New York, where she temporarily moved in with her brother. Actually, her brother and his fiancé, Godwin. Noah joked he had finally found God. The joke got old fast, as far as Naomi was concerned, but Godwin seemed to find it amusing.

  It was Godwin who asked Naomi, on her third week in the Chelsea one-bedroom apartment, what her plans were. It had become a little too obvious that she didn’t have any. Godwin had asked in a pleasant way. There was something about his very white teeth and British accent that made everything sound pleasant. But Naomi knew a clock was ticking. And not just on her days of free rent. As much as she hated acting like her mother, she caught herself lifting the skin around her cheekbones when she looked in the mirror. She kept reminding herself that thirty-three was young. But there were shadows under her eyes that didn’t seem to go away. And a night in heels was followed by a morning with
sore feet.

  She had no idea where she was going or how she was going to get there. And then it occurred to her that she kind of liked that. For two years she had stayed in one place and had a steady routine, and what did it get her? A nice piece of luggage and an active Facebook account. For two years she knew every morning she’d have breakfast with Carlos and a late dinner with him after he left the restaurant. She knew they would spend Christmas with his brother in Málaga. And she knew in August they would visit his sister in Barcelona. But she preferred not knowing. That was when she was at her best. It made her more spontaneous. And it made her brave. Brave enough to now be sitting in a suburban waiting room in Farmington Hills, Michigan. Brave enough to look up when Austin entered the room. And brave enough to ignore her beating heart and smile as if there wasn’t a more natural place in the world for her to be. She wondered if she would have to tell him why she was there or if he would implicitly know.

  And she wondered if he would kiss her again.

  At first Austin thought he was seeing things. It had been a stressful day, so it was not ridiculous for him to think his mind was playing tricks.

  But he blinked a couple of times, and she was still there. Naomi was sitting in his waiting room under the Eyes Wide Shut poster. And smiling as if she had been there all along and he just hadn’t noticed her.

  He escorted her along the grayish hallway, wishing they had repainted as Len had talked about doing for the last two years, and he followed immediately after her into his office with the old-fashioned eye chart on the wall, closing the door behind them. He didn’t know where to let his gaze rest first as he watched her place her black shoulder bag beside her chair and cross her legs, one knee-high black boot over the other below her long gray wool skirt. He sat at his desk, wondering if he should wheel up next to her. But having the desk between them offered him some protection. Like a wooden moat to give him space and time to figure out what he felt about her being there. Shocked. Delighted. Confused. And so many more feelings he couldn’t even put labels on.

  “I happened to be in the neighborhood,” she said with a small laugh. Her smile still swept all the way up to her eyes, but there were now a few tiny crinkles around them. “I don’t know if Stu told you, but I’ve been working with Steffi.”

  Stu barely spoke about Steffi anymore. The divorce had just about destroyed him emotionally—and financially.

  “We set up a store on eBay, and I’m scouting a vendor nearby,” she said. “The Franklin Cider Mill. Do you know it?”

  “I’ve gone there since I was a kid,” Austin said. He almost said that he also took his kid there, but he stopped himself. For numerous reasons, not the least of which was that Coal technically wasn’t his kid. Not even his step-kid, since there had yet to be a wedding, but there was a picture of him on Austin’s desk. “They have great caramel apples.”

  “We want to get them to join us,” she said. “We’re creating this online international bazaar. The idea is to get specialty products only sold in one place, and make them available everywhere.”

  “Doesn’t that go against your conviction about the importance of traveling?” Austin asked. He had meant it as a lighthearted question, but Naomi’s smile disappeared. He had done it again. Put his foot in his mouth less than two minutes into their conversation.

  “I never thought of it that way,” Naomi said, her mood dimming. But then Austin noticed with relief that her face brightened. “I think it actually encourages people to travel and see these places in person,” she said. “And it keeps the places in business, so that when people travel they won’t find only Walmart and H&M.”

  There it was again. Her passion. Her optimism. He had looked into so many eyes, and no others had the incandescent brightness that hers possessed. And few could claim the color of a sunlit sea beckoning those in need of a warm embrace. “Are you still cooking?” he asked.

  “No,” she said, a little wistfully. “Not much. My ambition outpaced my ability.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Austin said. “I can still taste the chocolate soufflé from Stu and Steffi’s wedding.”

  “That came out pretty good,” Naomi admitted, seeming to relish the memory. “Maybe I’ll make it for you again sometime in the future.”

  Was she just saying that or did she mean it? Did she plan to see him in the future? Was she flirting? He desperately wanted to believe she was flirting. But it seemed so unlikely. Then again, her being there in his office was equally unlikely.

  “I’m really glad you came by,” he said. Was that really the best he could come up with? He wanted to smack himself. And then he thought of Dallas and wanted to punch himself. Dallas deserved better than him making futile efforts at flirting with a past love. Then it hit him that he had never referred to Naomi in that way. His “love.” He had been in love with her. He had avoided using that word. But there it was. Len was right. The past changes.

  “Well, I couldn’t come to Michigan without looking you up,” she said. She was just passing through. That’s all it was. Like a brief summer squall that comes and goes with little damage, freshening the soil. “No, that’s not true,” she said.

  “What?” What wasn’t true?

  “I didn’t just look you up.” She wasn’t looking at him anymore. She was looking out the window. He wished there was a better view than the generic parking lot. The pine trees were pretty, if plain. The sky was clouding up. There was a storm coming. Seemed to be the day for them.

  “I came to Michigan to see you,” she said. Austin wasn’t sure he was hearing right. “I came because I never told you how I felt about you. And that was really stupid.” She was tearing up. He handed her a box of Kleenex. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Austin said, unsure what else to say.

  “I think I was in love with you,” she said. Austin was having difficulty breathing. “No, I know I was in love with you. I am in love with you. And I know it doesn’t make a lot of sense for me to say. And it’s not particularly fair of me to throw this at you. I don’t know what I want you to say. No, that’s not true either. I know what I want. But I have no idea what your feelings are or what’s going on in your life.”

  “I’m engaged,” Austin said. There were so many things he had waited so long to say, and that wasn’t one of them.

  “Oh,” she said.

  She seemed so sad. So disappointed. How could he let her feel that way when all he wanted was to take her in his arms and tell her how much he cared about her. How much he wanted her. How much he always had wanted her. And he might have. If he hadn’t spied Coal’s face looking up at him from a silver frame with a big, goofy, gap-toothed smile.

  “She has a child,” he said. “We have a child.”

  Naomi was standing up. She was leaving. “I’m so sorry,” she said. She lifted her bag, inadvertently tipping it over and spilling lip gloss and credit cards onto the floor. A tin of mints broke open. Austin rushed to help her pick up the pieces.

  “I had no right to come here and say stupid things,” she said. “I can’t imagine what you think of me. Actually, I can. You probably think I’m ridiculous. And rude. And a little emotionally unhinged.”

  “I don’t think any of those things,” he said, kneeling beside her.

  He desperately wanted to kiss her. He knew it was wrong. But he couldn’t help himself. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to take her back to his home and have one entire evening with her. Dallas had taken Coal to Chicago to see his dad. She would never know. Would it be such a terrible thing? To feel Naomi once more in his arms. They had been cheated of a lifetime together. What would be so wrong with taking just one night? As a keepsake. To have when he was older. To know that there was one night when he loved Naomi Bloom with all his heart and that she loved him back with all of hers.

  But he couldn’t do that to Dallas. Naomi was alread
y on her feet and reaching for the door handle.

  “I love you,” he said, still on his knees. He was crying as he took hold of her other hand, and he saw she was also crying. “I love you so much.”

  She nodded, and then she fled.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The leather swing was new. Hal held it steady as Mandy lay back into its hammock-like embrace and wondered if anyone had ever considered using one of these for a gynecological exam.

  She was enjoying the relaxing sensation of being suspended in the air. Given her current emotional state, it seemed particularly appropriate to feel untethered from the earth. In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she came to believe she had responded to Hal’s latest text specifically to untether herself.

  As Hal adjusted the stirrups around her ankles, she felt like she was floating beyond the mundane reality of her life. Beyond laundry and Spin class and spell-checks and footnotes. This was the ultimate in postmodern, poststructuralist theory. She was the text. Her body was the text. And her body was far more physically comfortable at that moment than she had expected. Until he got on top of her.

  No more floating. It was more a feeling of being squeezed like a half-empty tube of toothpaste. A rush of air was expelled from her compressed lungs as her pinched bladder groaned and the flotsam flowing through her lower intestine pleaded for release.

  Hal was kissing her insistently. But his breath smelled of garlic. And maybe oregano. She was guessing he’d eaten Italian food for dinner. It occurred to her that it wouldn’t have killed him to treat her to a meal. Just because they were having kinky sex didn’t mean he couldn’t be a gentleman. At the very least he could have brushed his teeth. She was tempted to tell him so, but it would definitely be a mood killer. What kind of person didn’t use a mint before kissing someone? Mandy had been carrying Tic Tacs in her purse at all times since she was sixteen, just in case.