by Various
"Oh my, Hannah. We've missed you, too," Mrs. Cole says from deep within the hug.
When they pull apart, Hannah picks up the wild flowers and the wine. "Here, these are for you. I know you’re a wild child at heart. I'll go get some water for them."
"Come now, let me do it. You stay out here with everyone." Mrs. Cole takes the flowers and the wine.
Hannah turns to us and settles on the floor, sitting in perfect lotus, back straight. Who is this woman? I’m so intrigued and terrified at the same time. It’s an odd sensation.
"Nicky. Come tell us how you are? And what you’re up to these days," Hannah calls over to Nicky.
"Me? No one wants to hear about me. What about you? Why are you here?" Nicky sits next to me on the couch. We look like a small theater, the audience up high and the actor holding center stage on the floor.
"Well. I'm here because we bought tickets last year, and I figured a trip to California was a good idea. I've been up in San Francisco working with some brilliant yoga teachers. I'm almost done with my 500 hour certificate." She waits for our reaction.
We all catch on and congratulate her.
"The center is going well, but we’re always fighting for funding. I'm a lawyer with Victim Rights in New York. As well as a yoga teacher," she explains to the rest of us.
I can't believe she can sit in lotus for that long with boots on. The thought is distracting me from what she is saying. I want to ask her if her boots are cutting into her legs or if her foot is asleep yet, but I bite my tongue. I wonder if she’ll limp when she gets up. I can hear her talking again, but now I just can't listen. I start timing how long she has been in the position. She has to move soon, right?
"Well, Nora does, right Nora?" I hear my name and drag myself away from my internal timer.
"What? I'm sorry. I was—"
The front door opens and everyone from the beach walk comes in. Thank God. Hannah jumps up and I watch to see if her legs move the right way. About 20 people pour into the living room. Some know her and hug her, others don't. The room is loud and I can't follow Hannah's movements.
Ryan walks in and catches my eye. He looks great. Windswept hair and all, he looks relaxed, happy, and fit. Of course, he’s been outside—it’s an amazing transformation for him. He smiles that wicked smile and holds my gaze.
I try to warn him that Hannah is here, but he doesn't seem to take my hints.
"Hey, Ryan. Look who’s here," Nicky's voice cuts through the chaos.
I watch as his eyes find Nicky's, then as he recognizes Hannah his face goes from happy and sexy to frozen and annoyed, finally settling on his lawyer face.
There are too many people in the room for me to hear what they say to each other, but I can see his eyes remain cold and hard as they exchange hellos. Whatever happened between them ended badly, I can see that in his face, and I wonder if she can, too. I note, with a pit in my stomach, that Ryan does not seem to be the forgiving type. It’s all or nothing with him.
I sit on the couch and wait for the room to empty out. No reason to run up and claim my man. Let Ryan work it out with his women. I pick up a copy of Coastal Living Magazine and start flipping through it. The buzz of the room washes over me. I realize that I’m actually exhausted; this day has been more trying than I anticipated.
"Hey, Ryan, my man," I hear an unfamiliar male voice boom over the noise in the room. Glancing up, I see Ryan surrounded by a large group of men, one of whom guides him out of the room. Just as Ryan leaves he glances back, his eyes searching, I assume for me. It’s too late to stand up and catch his eye, so I watch from the couch then go back to my magazine when he disappears from view.
The photos of beachfront properties are enticing. Dreamy beach walks, bicycle routes, and ice cream stores. I fall into a fantasy of a lazy beach vacation with Ryan, long walks at sunset, after dinner drinks at a walk up bar in the sand, warm mornings with hot coffee overlooking the ocean.
"So, you seem relaxed." Hannah sits down next to me.
I look up, startled.
"Oh, hi. Yeah, um, just reading this magazine. These beach homes are alluring."
Glancing around the room, I notice that it’s almost empty. Where did everyone go?
"So, you're the new girlfriend, huh? I was wondering. How's it going so far?" Hannah looks like she is about to eat a giant piece of cake.
"Um. Going how?" I ask her. Feeling a little dull from my reverie in the magazine, maybe I missed something.
"You know, with Ryan. How is it dating Ryan?" Hannah stares at me with those big chocolate saucers. Her straight black hair falls over her shoulder in a wave; her nose ring dazzles my eyes.
I have never seen anyone wear a diamond in their nose before.
"Is that a diamond in your nose? I didn't think they made nose rings with diamonds?" I blurt out before I can stop myself.
Hannah looks blank for a second and then starts laughing.
"Yes, it is. I only wear this one for fancy occasions." She reaches up and spins it.
I almost gag at the thought of what she’s turning inside her nose.
"Why would anyone want to wear a diamond in their nose?" It's as if I can’t stop myself from saying stupid things to her.
"Well, if you must know, because I wanted to." She seems put out, a little pouty, even.
Curious reaction to me, she strikes me as more of a screamer than a pouter. You just never know with people.
"Yeah. No. Sorry. I was just thinking that funky people like to get nose rings, and fancy people like to wear diamonds. I guess I just never met a fancy/funky person before." I sound like an idiot I know, but again, I just can't stop myself. Maybe I should leave. I think that would best. "Soooo, I gotta go."
"No, stay." Hannah reaches out and pulls me back into the couch. "Seriously, if you ever need to talk, I'm here for you. I understand what he's like." She looks serious.
Now I am dumbfounded. What is she talking about?
"Okay, thanks, but really, I’m fine. Ryan is great. Life is good. So—" I trail off, not knowing how to end this.
"Sure. But I know what he's really like, so if it gets too intense, you can call me. It's okay, there are no old feelings there, we women can bond."
Now I am alarmed. I have no idea what she is getting at, but I don't like the sound of it.
"Thanks, Hannah. I don't know what to say. Is there something I need to know? You know, woman to woman." I try to match her earnestness with my look.
She looks at me as if she is sizing me up. "I think maybe Ryan hasn't shown you who he really is, what he’s really like. You know," she scoffs, "what that man likes is illegal in most states, or at least should be."
"Nora! There you are. Hannah, I see you two have met." Ryan comes bursting in the room, his lawyer face is on and his eyes look alarmed.
What did he say a few hours ago, I should be worried if Hannah showed up? Well, now I'm worried.
Hannah's face changes completely. She becomes serene and moves slowly up to take his hand in hers, pressing them to her heart.
"It is so good to see you again," She breathes her words, looking up at him.
I roll my eyes and stand up. Only then do I realize that I am a lot taller than she is. Looking down on her head, I see her eyes flutter. What is she playing at?
"Yeah, Hannah, it's great to see you, too. Nora, we really need to hit the road." He pulls his hand back and rakes it across his hair.
"That is so true. Well, that was all very strange, Hannah. But it was nice meeting you. Sort of." I stammer, not really listening to what I’m saying. Where is my stuff, my purse, and my coat. Did I bring a coat?
"Bye, Hannah." Ryan pulls me out of the room. "Jesus, are you okay?" Ryan says as soon as we are outside.
"We need to say goodbye to your parents. I need to thank them for inviting me." I’m running through the list of expected behaviors in my head. "Did I bring in a coat? Or a purse? Ryan, do you remember? Jesus fucking Christ. You have really freaky girl
friends."
"Nora, wait. Stop. Talk to me." He puts his hands on my shoulders and tries to hold me still.
I can't look him in the eye. I must look him in the eye. I need to leave, but I have to exit gracefully. I close my eyes, sucking in air, searching for the calm. I breathe again and again. When I begin to settle down, I open my eyes. Ryan is staring at me.
"Okay. Listen. Your ex in there is pretty weird, and she said some things that we need to talk about later. Right now, we need to go in there and get our stuff and say our goodbyes and leave."
"Nora, I swear to you, I had no idea that either one of those women were going to be here. I am so sorry. Hannah is a free spirit and does whatever she wants, and Emily is just a freeloader. Please tell me you’re okay. You looked really upset back there."
"I'm okay right now. I’m glad you showed up when you did, ‘cause Hannah seemed like she was about to open up a part of your dark past or something. Really not sure I could've taken that." I shake my head and pause long enough to look him straight in the eye. "I am fine. Let's go."
"Right. Okay, got it."
He turns and leads me back into the house. We walk back into the kitchen to find Mrs. Cole. She is doing dishes and directing the staff with their clean up.
"Hey, Mom. Listen, we need to hit the road," Ryan speaks up when we get close.
"Oh, darling! Thanks for visiting us. I think your father just left with another round of beach walkers." She dries her hands and hugs Ryan.
"Okay, no worries, just tell him bye for us," he says, pulling back.
"Thank you for a lovely day Mrs. Cole. You have a spectacular home." I offer my hand to her.
She hugs me too. Somewhat startled, but getting used to the feeling by now, I hug her back.
"It was nice to meet you. You are such a wonderful girl. I hope to see you again," she says, sweetly.
We pull apart and Ryan takes my hand. We head out toward the backyard. I feel the energy start to drain out of me. Now that we’re leaving, the fatigue and confusion take over.
The jeep seems like a refuge after today. Even without my bizarre and almost unexplainable conversation with Hannah, I would be tired; all those new people, Emily, meeting his parents, and that Hannah. All of it combined has left me bone tired, yet still wired.
We get in the jeep and head out of the little town. The fog is rolling in off the coast, but the highway is clear. Neither of us speak, Ryan drives as I stare out the window. When we pass through the sand dunes and the freeway opens up for the long trip back, Ryan starts.
"Okay. Look. Are you mad? What did she say to you?"
I start laughing, a nervous laugh. How do I begin? "Um. Well, she was offering her services to me."
"Her services? What services?"
"Well, as 'Ryan women', she wanted me to know that I could come to her at any time to talk about what you do to us." I’m trying to keep my tone light, but he reacts anyway.
"What?! That bitch. What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he almost screams at the steering wheel.
"I'm not sure. Just that you like certain things that should be, or are, illegal in most states. I never got a chance to clarify that. What the fuck, Ryan? Was she fucking with me, or are you some sort of sadist? I’m really not into getting tied up and beaten."
Now he looks stricken. "No, I am not. God damn it. That is so not my thing. Jesus Christ. What else did she say?"
"Just that you can be intense, and that I might need someone to talk to because you are, how did she put it? Well, I guess just that you are you and that I might need her to help understand what I was going through."
He mutters something but doesn't say anything out loud to me. The road seems to go on forever, unlike my brain and my ability to deal with all this weirdness. The road is hypnotizing me and my eyes are getting heavier and heavier.
Sleep overcomes me. It is fitful, and I dream that Hannah and Emily are laughing at me. Ryan is there, too, but he is far away and I can't get to him. People, hundreds of people, surround us. I keep asking them for help, but no one will answer me. Emily and Hannah are getting closer and closer to me, their laughter getting louder and louder.
Ryan's face is suddenly close to mine. "That is so not my thing," he says, and then disappears.
"What is your thing?" I yell at him, but he’s gone.
I bolt straight up, wide awake.
"Hey. Are you okay?" Ryan looks concerned. We’re still on the road, but now it’s dark.
"Where are we?" I ask.
"Almost home." He smiles at me. "You're cute when you sleep."
Hesitantly, I ask, "What is your thing?"
"What?" he asks me, genuinely confused.
"You said earlier that being a sadist is not you're thing. But something is, otherwise Hannah wouldn’t have dropped that bomb back there. And you wouldn’t have reacted the way you did. So my question is, what is your thing?" I sound a lot braver than I feel.
Ryan lets out a long breath then glances over at me.
"You know what, Nora. I don't think we should get into this right now." He sounds edgy and little deflated.
"Ryan. I know we’re at the beginning of this, whatever this is. But there is no way we can go forward without dealing with this. Blame it on Hannah or Emily or whatever, but the cat is out of the bag, so just spit it out."
"First of all, there is no way I am going to get into what Hannah was talking about right now in this car. Second, I didn't bring it up before because I never thought you would be interested in—" he hesitates. "In whatever it is. So let's just drop it."
I'm instantly hurt. "What do you mean, you thought I wouldn't be interested? You have no idea what I’m interested in. And what the hell are we talking about, anyway? This is bullshit, Ryan." Now I’m getting pissed.
"God damn it, Nora. This is not the way I wanted to do this. Yes. I like things that are out of the box. Yes, Hannah and I explored those things. But this is not the way I wanted to talk to you about them. Shit. I hadn't even thought about it," Ryan shouts at the road in front of him. His frustration is obvious as he steers the jeep. "You're right. I don't know what you are interested in. I’ve never asked you. I like where we are. I never really intended to get so intense so soon." He rakes his hands over his hair.
"You never really intended us to get intense?" I ask, bewildered at what he just said.
"No! That isn’t what I meant. I meant that I like what we have. It's easy and fun and awesome. I never felt the need to go beyond what we have now."
I take a deep breath. I wish he would just come right out and say it, whatever it is. It can't be worse than what’s running through my head.
"Ryan. Can you just tell me what we are talking about here?" I say, as calmly as possible.
"Okay, look. I'm not going to talk about this. I'll tell you what. It’s better if I show you. Fuck it. You wanna know? I'll show you." Ryan steers the jeep off the freeway onto our exit.
"Okay. When?" calling his bluff. "Right now?"
Ryan laughs. "No. Not right now. Next weekend. I'll take you to the city."
"We have to go to the city?" I blurt out, incredulous.
"Yes. We have to go to the city. Now, can we please drop this?" He takes my hand in his and looks at me pleadingly.
I watch him for a minute. Not sure if I am more curious or scared, but I want to know what this thing is.
"Okay. Fine. I'll drop it. But it's going be a long week, so you had better be around to help me pass the days," I say, hoping I sound funny and not whiny.
"Well, Young. It's already Monday night, so I think you can survive." His shoulders relax and he looks much more comfortable.
"Ha. Shows what you know. You have no idea about the hell hole that I call my job." I laugh as the jeep turns into my apartment parking lot.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I’ve been sitting in my hell hole for four days, ticking off the hours one-by-one. It is now Friday afternoon and I am about to explode. Not a pleasant
way to spend a workweek. Not only does this cause serious moodiness, but serves as a huge distraction as well, which, in turn, causes all kinds of stupid errors. I’m so ready to be done with this week and this job.
What I can't get a handle on is, do I hate this job because it’s really a bad job, or because it’s just not the job I think I want? When I look objectively at what I do, working in corporate events is not a bad gig. In fact, David has a great business here, and the last few years have been a lot of fun. I know that I don't get as worked up as David and Colleen about certain things, but I do a good job and at times, kind of like it. But, it's not a law firm and I’m not a lawyer.
It's now 3:30 in the afternoon and Ryan is picking me up around five at my house. My overnight bags are already packed for our mystery trip, so my plan is to get out of here in about an hour and freshen up before we hit the road.
Right now, that plan is dissolving.
"Hey Nora, do you have those schematics yet? I need to send them over to Colleen."
Julie bounces into my office, but stops when she gets a good look at me.
"Not yet, but I’m working on them," I clip back to her.
"Wow. You okay? You don't look so great," she asks.
I sit back from the mess on my desk and close my eyes.
"Sorry. I’m just so tired of all this. And I’m anxious to get my weekend started."
"Oh, yeah, big date with Ryan. You want help with that?" Julie leans over the desk and peers at my work.
"I've been trying every which way, but I just don't see how she is going to get that many people in that room. Maybe if she went for a more casual buffet style, but a formal sit down? I just can't get it to work."
Julie scoots me out of my chair and takes over. I happily oblige.
"Hmmm, what if we move this to a longer table and add round tops at the ends?"
"Yep. Did that. I'm still 20 spots short."
"Hey guys, there you are. Listen, I need that planning sheet. The client wants to mull it over this weekend." Colleen walks in my office.
"Working on it," Julie calls without lifting her head. "Too many people for the room."
