by Claire Adams
“I think you’re making a big mistake,” she said. “And I don’t mean that as a threat.”
“I know you don’t.” I wanted to take her in my arms, to hold her to me until that look disappeared from her face, but I was the whole reason that look was there in the first place. The best thing I could do right now would be to end the conversation, to let her go, so she could start moving on. She’d forget about me soon enough, I hoped. I didn’t want to think of her with another guy, but at the same time, I knew it wouldn’t be hard for her to find a date at all. “But really, Wren, it’d probably be better if you just forgot about me.”
The expression on her face went from disbelief to shocked to angry in about two seconds. “I can’t believe you just said that.” Her voice shook. “I can’t believe you think that I could forget about you, just like that. You can break up with me right now if you want, you can forget all about me, but I will never be able to forget about you! Even if we hadn’t started seeing each other, even if we never met each other again after you got out, I will never be able to forget about you.”
I felt simultaneously elated and completely shitty to hear that.
“You know I love you, don’t you?” she said. “I’ve never said that to a guy before. I’ve never said it because I never actually felt it. I do now, but I’m beginning to realize that doesn’t matter.”
Tell her you love her back! Tell her she’s about the most amazing person you’ve ever met and you never thought that you’d ever stand the chance with someone like her.
I wanted to. The words were there, right on the tip of my tongue.
But I bit my lip and didn’t say a word.
Chapter Twenty-One
Wren
I thought he was going to tell me he was just playing some awful prank, maybe just trying to get me to say that I was going to break up with him. But that never happened. He just kept saying how he couldn’t let Garrett down, how he’d never been so forgetful before, how a horse had died because of it. And that it was basically my fault.
“He didn’t say it was your fault, did he?” Allison asked. We were sitting on my couch, sharing a pint of double chocolate ice cream.
“No, he didn’t come out and explicitly state it,” I said. “But that’s basically what he was saying without putting it into words. If he hadn’t been thinking about me so much, then he wouldn’t have forgotten to latch the gate. He wouldn’t have forgotten to tighten the…the…whatever the fuck that thing is called that holds the saddle on—”
“The cinch.”
I looked at Allison. She shrugged. “I rode horses when I was younger and still had time for that sort of shit.”
“Well, whatever the fuck it’s called, he didn’t tighten it all the way, and this little girl went to get on the horse and the saddle slipped, and it was all very traumatizing, I guess. The point is, none of this shit would have happened if he hadn’t been distracted by me, and he’s decided the best way to remedy it is for us to break up.”
“Then he really is a shit head.” She handed me the ice cream container. “I’m sorry, Wren. It sucks. Him being a shit head doesn’t make it suck any less.”
“It was awful,” I said. “I didn’t cry in front of him, but I definitely did a lot of ugly crying once he left.”
“Don’t for a second feel bad about that!” she said. “What a dick! Does he have any idea how much of a dick this makes him?”
“Probably not. He thinks he’s doing the right thing. I can’t fault him for that.”
“Then he’s not a dick, he’s just a moron.” She shook her head. “Sometimes I think life would be a hell of a lot easier if men just didn’t exist.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Except I don’t want Ollie not to exist—I just want him to have not broken up with me!”
“He’s a fool. Maybe he’ll realize it. But even if he doesn’t, don’t for a second let yourself believe that it is any reflection on you. Well, actually, maybe it is. I mean, he broke up with you because he can’t stop thinking about you. Which itself is kind of a fucked-up reason to break up with someone. You’re too much woman for him.”
“I don’t want to be too much woman for him. Up until now I thought I was just enough. Everything about us was working out perfectly.”
“Nothing is ever perfect, especially not in a relationship.” Allison shook her head. “Here we are. You who’s just been dumped, me who’s about to go get an abortion. Yay us. Fuck, we deserve a vacation!”
The mention of vacation made me think about the trip Ollie and I were supposed to take to San Francisco. Looks like that wouldn’t be happening, either.
I called Dr. Mike.
“Hello, Wren. I’m a little surprised to hear your voice,” Dr. Mike said. “I figured I’d seen the last of you that day you left my office. Everything okay?”
“No,” I said, and just the sound of Dr. Mike’s familiar voice made my throat ache, but I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek. I had resolved not to cry about this, after all, and I was going to stick to it. I swallowed, the coppery taste of blood running down my throat. “I’d like to book an appointment, please. The sooner, the better.”
“Tomorrow at nine is my next available.”
“I’ll take it.” So what if it was right in the middle of the morning rush? I didn’t give a shit.
It was a little strange and completely depressing to be back in Dr. Mike’s office, because I was just reminded how happy—and maybe even a little smug—I had felt the last time I was here.
“He broke up with me,” I said. There was no point mincing words; there was no point in being anything but completely straightforward about it.
“I’m sorry,” Dr. Mike said.
“He broke up with me because I was too much of a distraction. That’s basically what it comes down to. Which means he cares about his job more than he cared about me. Not that I’m saying he shouldn’t care about his job. I just don’t think that he understands how big of a deal this was for me! He was my first boyfriend. The guys in high school don’t count.”
“And why is that?”
“Because…well, just because!” Because it had seemed so long ago that I could barely remember it? Because I’d been so young? Because I’d never loved them? “I don’t know—they just don’t.”
“Do you think perhaps you’re so willing to discount these past relationships because they didn’t mean as much to you as the one with Ollie does?”
I shrugged. “Sure, that sounds about right. But it doesn’t make it hurt any less. And then part of me keeps thinking that he’s going to change his mind, that he doesn’t really mean it. But each day that goes by without him calling or texting makes me realize that’s probably not true.”
“Rejection is never an easy pill to swallow,” Dr. Mike said.
I perked up a little. “Are you going to prescribe me Xanax?”
“Why are you asking that?”
I shook my head. “Never mind, bad joke… You mentioned pills…”
He cracked a dry smile. “You don’t need Xanax. And even if you did, I’m not a psychiatrist. You’ll be okay. I want you to know that. This is not the end of the world, even if it feels like it.”
“I know. But it sucks. And tomorrow I’m supposed to take my best friend to get an abortion, and that sucks, too, and it seems like everything is going horribly now, when just a few weeks ago, everything was great.”
“Life does have a way of working like that. But it doesn’t mean you’ve got to let yourself be completely derailed. He might’ve made a foolish decision, Wren, but you don’t have to let it affect you any more than you choose.”
I stared at the ceiling and wished there was some magic pill Dr. Mike could prescribe me that would make me forget everything.
The next day I took Allison to her appointment at the Planned Parenthood in Boulder.
“So you decided not to tell him,” I said as we approached the city.
“I have spent every day since I found out thinking a
bout what the right thing to do would be. But I decided not to,” she said. “You can judge me all you want, but I know this is the right decision. He’d beg me to keep it, and I know that I’m not going to. There’s nothing he could say that would change my mind.”
“You’re never going to tell him?”
“I don’t think so. It would just hurt him. If I tell him after the fact, he’d blame himself because he’d think there would’ve been something he could’ve done or said that would make me want to keep it. But there’s not.”
As I drove, I thought how it was too bad she couldn’t have the baby and just give it to me. Not that I knew anything about taking care of a baby, but I was almost thirty, and I didn’t think I’d mind having a child. Maybe that wasn’t enough of a reason to have one though—thinking that you might want one.
“Then you’re doing the right thing,” I said. “And I don’t judge you at all.”
“Thank you for coming with me. Though I could have done this by myself, the receptionist basically insisted that I have someone else be there to drive me home.”
“Do they put you under for it?”
“No. Well, I’m not getting put under, but I think under certain circumstances they might.”
“Are they going to give you anything?”
“I think maybe a Vicodin. But nothing serious.”
When we got there, they had us sit in the waiting room, and Allison filled out a packet of papers.
It was strange, sitting in the waiting room with a bunch of strangers, knowing that they were there for the same reason. I found myself wondering what their stories were. The mood in the room was somber; no one spoke above a whisper. The magazines for people to browse looked old and worn, and I couldn’t help but feel sad and depressed. Not that this situation even had anything to do with me; I was just there to offer support to my friend. But still, no one sitting in this room right now wanted to be spending their Saturday morning like this. Next to me, Allison scribbled away on the clipboard. My mind started to wander. I wondered what Ollie was doing.
If I were to find out in the next couple of weeks that I was pregnant, would I tell him? Would I keep it? I could easily see myself sitting here, filling out my own clipboard full of paperwork. Yet at the same time, I could also see myself with a child, trying to juggle motherhood and running a business. Ollie was also in that daydream, though. It wasn’t just me and a baby; it was me, a baby, and him. Our baby. But that was never going to happen because I doubted we’d ever even talk again. He wouldn’t come into the restaurant, and I wouldn’t go to the ranch. Maybe we’d run into each other at the gas station or the grocery store or something, but it would be too hard to just be his friend.
Allison finished writing and brought her clipboard to the receptionist. She came and sat back down.
“I’ll be glad when this is all over,” she said. The door to the waiting room opened and a nurse wearing pink scrubs stepped out.
“Allison?” she called.
“Do you want me to come back there with you?” I asked.
“It’s all right,” Allison said. “You just being here is enough. I’ll be okay.” She patted my hand and got up. I watched her follow the nurse through the door.
Once Allison was gone, I tried to look at a magazine, but I couldn’t stay focused enough to read even one short article. There was a restlessness building in me, not just because I wanted to be away from this clinic, but at the sheer helplessness I felt. I wanted Ollie more than anything, I wanted to be able to call him, I wanted to know that I was going to see him later, and that simply wasn’t an option.
I put the magazine back and took my phone out, thinking I could distract myself on the internet for a little while. But that didn’t seem to be working, either; the restless feeling just continued to build inside me until it felt like I couldn’t contain it anymore. It wasn’t like I could take off and run around the block, though. Even if I could, I knew it wouldn’t be enough. It wouldn’t be enough to get rid of that feeling.
Fuck it, I decided. I wasn’t going to let two tickets go to waste. I’d use one and give the other one away. No, they probably wouldn’t let me change the name on it. Fine, I’d just enjoy the flight to San Francisco, and I’d have an empty seat beside me.
PART FOUR
Chapter Twenty-Two
Ollie
For a little while there, it had felt like I’d been on top of the world. Work was great, Wren was great, just having the freedom to go where you wanted, when you wanted, was great. I should have known. I should have known that things couldn’t stay like that for someone like me—maybe they shouldn’t. I didn’t deserve that sort of thing. It was too good to be true.
I just had to stay focused on my work, not think of anything else. Easier said than done.
For the first couple days, it actually wasn’t so bad; I could fool myself into believing that I was going to see Wren soon. But as the days approached a week, and then passed a week, I couldn’t deny the ache I felt at her absence.
I kept trying to tell myself that I’d done the right thing, that I’d put my responsibilities before my desire for good feelings. That was the thing—Wren made me feel good. Not only the sex, but just being around her.
It was too much of a distraction. She was too much of a distraction.
When I wasn’t working, I’d take Bebop out for long, slow rides down to the river. I’d let him graze while I sat in the tall grass and watched the water. Or I’d go for a walk, with no real destination in mind.
The one thing I did know, though, was the places I wasn’t to go—namely, her restaurant. Would she re-name it now? I didn’t even like driving into town and having to go by it, knowing she was probably in there.
When I went to visit Paula, I took the long way, so I wouldn’t have to drive by the restaurant. I hadn’t been planning to tell her what happened, but after a few minutes, she squinted at me and asked what the hell was wrong.
“You seem off,” she said. “You seem like something is terribly wrong.”
“Things are just…” We were sitting on the porch, and I looked off toward the front yard. “I broke up with my girlfriend.”
“Oh, yeah? Things not going so great?”
“It just got too hard.” That was the simple way to put it. I didn’t feel like getting into all the details, of re-living everything.
Paula was looking at me closely. “But you love her, I can tell. Don’t even bother trying to tell me I’m wrong.”
I was quiet.
“Did you ever wonder why Jackson wanted you to come over here and check up on me?” Paula asked.
“Not really,” I said. “I mean, he wanted me to make sure that you were all right. Being alone and everything.”
“I’m not alone though is the thing. I’m still his wife.”
“I know you are, but he’s in there, and you’re out here…”
“He wanted me to leave him. And he was using you to try to facilitate that.”
I stared at her. “Huh?”
“He finally admitted to it, the last time I went to see him. I didn’t think he would actually cop to it, but he did. I’m not mad at him, of course.”
“I’m not following,” I said, shaking my head. What was she talking about?
“He thought I’d decide I wanted to get it on with you and that would be the end of us.”
“He wanted me to sleep with you?” I thought back to the day Jackson brought it up, the way he said he had trusted me. There was no way that he sent me out here to sleep with his wife. That was crazy.
“Of course he did!” Paula grinned. “Don’t look so shocked! A good-looking guy like you. It’s not because you’re unattractive.”
“Why on earth would your husband want me to sleep with you? That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Well, you’re right, in a way. What he wants is for me to want you. Or anyone, for that matter, so long as it isn’t him. He doesn’t want to think of me out here, all alone,
wasting away, which absolutely isn’t happening. I seem to be doing all right, wouldn’t you say?”
“Of course,” I said quickly, though I didn’t really know. Was she all right? I saw her a few times here and there, but I really had no way of knowing what she did the rest of the time. What if after I left she was just going to go inside, close the blinds, and not leave the house for two weeks? What if she couldn’t sleep at night or went through the trouble of cooking a meal but never actually ate it? “I mean, you would tell me if things weren’t okay, wouldn’t you?”
She cracked a smile. “That sounds like something a friend would say. Or maybe a social worker.”
“I guess I’m just a little confused about this whole thing. Jackson had always led me to believe that things were good between the two of you.”
“Oh, they are; he’s right about the that. He’s putting me before himself, you see. Because I’ve told him all along that I’ll stand by his side, that I’ll be here waiting for him when he gets out. If he gets out. Because I love him. And love isn’t just what happens when it’s easy or fun or you’re lucky enough to still be in the honeymoon stage. Love is what happens after all that shit leaves and the hard stuff starts. That’s what true love is—the hard shit.”
I watched two butterflies flutter across the lawn, one after the other, as though they were playing tag. “Maybe I’m just not cut out for it, then,” I said.
Paula gave me a level stare. “Isn’t that a shame.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Wren
“Do you think it’s totally weird if I go?” I asked Allison. I was having second thoughts about San Francisco. “I mean, really, if any of us were going to go to San Francisco, maybe it should it should be Ollie? Since Darren’s his brother?”
“Yeah, but it sounds like the two of you really hit it off. And if he’s cool with you going, why the hell not?”
We were sitting out on the deck, sneaking a glass of wine before Nigel and the kids got back from the movies. It had been a few weeks since I’d taken Allison to Boulder, and I was glad to see that she seemed totally fine, both physically and emotionally.
