by Robin Brande
“It’s great if I could teach it.”
Eliza turned to see Hildy holding up her cast. “I can’t chop anything with this. I can’t do it left-handed. I could probably stir things, but...”
Hildy paused and gave Eliza an innocent look.
“Maybe Walsh’s could give you an assistant,” Eliza said. “Maybe whoever just called.”
“Or maybe you could be my assistant.”
Eliza briefly closed her eyes. Then she looked into her mother-in-law’s expectant face. “Hildy, I’d rather not.”
“It’s just one night every few weeks.”
“I know, but it’s Ted’s store...”
“He’s never there,” Hildy said. “It’s at night, and he’s gone by then.”
“Couldn’t you find someone else?”
“I could, but I’d rather not,” she said, echoing Eliza’s words. “Come on, honey, you know I hate to ask. You’re already doing so much for me...”
Get out more, Eliza reminded herself. Be among people. Develop new material.
Stop trying to avoid the Walshes—you’re here now, and you’re going to be here for a while.
“We’ll try one class, all right?” Eliza said. “See how it goes.”
“Thank you, Lizzy.”
“I’m going to go throw a rock through that guy’s window tonight. Want to come?”
* * *
She saw him in the distance, working his way up the power line trail, his big black dog running at his side.
Ready, steady...
She saw him see her. Should she wave? Just keep walking? Keep walking.
Eliza put her head down and made the terrier pick up the pace. She wanted to appear purposeful, busy, not just a woman out ambling with her dog.
She glanced up to check David’s progress. They were within shouting distance now. Another minute or so and he’d reach her.
“Hi,” she practiced. “Hello...”
He reached a fork in the trails and turned. He continued running right, parallel to her. Their paths would never intersect.
Bastard! Eliza thought. If you think I’m going through this again tomorrow, you’re crazy.
“David! Hello.” Her voice sounded stern and commanding. She liked that.
David slowed, halted, turned around.
Eliza stood and waited, not saying anything more. Phrases bounced around in her head: I know you saw me. Let’s be adult about this. I’m back for a while, so we might as well get used to it—
Daisy started to growl.
Eliza tugged lightly on the leash. “It’s Bear. You know him.”
But as David and the dog came closer, Daisy’s hackles rose.
“Daisy! Don’t be a lunatic. For once.”
Now she was barking, lunging, carrying on the way she had the first time she saw them, and the second and third. It was as though David had never saved her life, she had never slept in Bear’s bed or David’s, never curled up on David’s chair.
The dog howled as the two of them came closer. Eliza tried to control her.
“I’m sorry,” she called over the noise. “She’s still crazy.”
David nodded and kept his distance. Bear whined and wagged his tail, ready to play.
Finally Eliza had to admit defeat. “Come on, Daisy, we’re going this way.” She jerked the dog around and dragged her in the opposite direction. She glanced back to say goodbye, but David and Bear had already resumed running.
Her shoulders slumped. “Thanks a lot.” But another few steps and she realized the sentiment was right: “Thanks a lot,” she repeated to the dog. “Maybe that was the right way to handle it.”
* * *
“Well, I saw him,” she reported to Hildy when they returned.
“What did he say?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Not even a syllable,” Eliza said. “But you’ll be happy to know your dog is as deranged as ever.”
Hildy considered for a moment, then said, “He’s embarrassed.”
“I don’t care if he’s embarrassed or not,” Eliza answered. “He’s rude, he’s strange, and I’m not going to worry about him anymore.”
“That’s good,” Hildy said, although her expression said otherwise.
“What?” Eliza asked, knowing something was coming anyway.
“I don’t understand him.”
“Join the club. I’m taking a shower. I’ll fix you breakfast when I get out.”
* * *
She scrubbed her hair and tried not to think.
He looked tired. But he still looked good. That face she had touched, the eyes she had looked into, a mouth she had seen smile, a mouth she had kissed, tongue, lips—
She pulled her fingers through her hair and rinsed out the conditioner. What was she doing today? Visiting Carolyn Jackson. Paying Hildy’s bills. Cleaning the bathroom. Changing the sheets. Reading.
Why wouldn’t he look at me? She kept waiting to meet his eye, but he always seemed to be looking just to the side of her face. Was this how it was going to be from now on? Complete silence whenever they met, that disturbing coldness, when she had been more intimate with him in some ways than she had ever been with Jamey?
Had it all just been about sex? A brief, intense affair that couldn’t survive even one uncomfortable conversation? What kind of man behaved like that? Eliza wondered. Was he that immature? That unstable? She had read him all wrong. And that bothered her almost as much as everything else.
She dried off and dressed in her robe. And took a moment behind the closed door of her bedroom to reassess what she thought she knew.
She thought she had been falling in love. There was no point pretending otherwise—at least not to herself. She never had to reveal it to anyone else, not even Hildy, no matter how curious the woman might be. This was Eliza’s secret, and it was her lesson alone. She’d been foolish. Confused. Too easily seduced.
He felt nothing for her—that much was clear now. A man who had missed her over the past two months would have looked her in the eye, searched her face for some kind of sign that she cared for him, made even a minimal attempt to speak.
It was so easy to break your own heart, Eliza thought. No, not break it, but at least bruise it. Batter it. You just have to open it too fast and let the wrong person in. Start believing the fantasies your own mind invents. There was probably a column in that, but she wasn’t going to write it. This chapter of her life was closed. Writing about it would only seal it in her memory.
They were ten days she’d rather forget.
* * *
Carolyn Jackson looked pained when she opened the door. “I knew you were back. I’ve been afraid to come see you.”
“Why?”
“Why? That horrible night. I never should have made you go—”
“You didn’t ‘make’ me,” Eliza said. “It wasn’t your fault. I used to get that way sometimes right after Jamey died. Something would remind me, and suddenly I’d be on the floor. It just hasn’t happened for a while. But it wasn’t your fault—really, Carolyn. So please stop worrying about it.”
“But I never should have pressured you—”
“It’s done,” Eliza said. “Over. Now come on. I came over here hoping for some arts and crafts.”
* * *
“We weren’t going to do this for another few days,” Carolyn said, “but since you’re here.”
She had Katie help her spread out newspapers over the table.
“Are you a good carver?” Katie asked.
“I have no idea,” Eliza said.
They hoisted three engorged pumpkins onto the table, then Carolyn gave them their weapons: a book full of stencils, and a container full of knives.
“You know the rules,” Carolyn said.
“No stabbing, no slicing, no bleeding,” Katie recited. She turned to Eliza. “We’re not allowed to have to go to the emergency room.”
“Seems fair,” Eliza said.
; “So cut slowly,” Carolyn reminded her daughter. “Carefully.”
Katie rolled her eyes. “Mom, I’ve done this a million times before.”
“Well then maybe I was talking to Eliza.”
* * *
She felt better walking home. A few hours of laughter and hard physical labor trying to wrestle with a difficult pumpkin, and Eliza could almost forget the morning.
She returned to the house and found Hildy and Daisy on the couch with Hildy’s recipes spread out all around.
“I’m trying to find ones you can do,” she told Eliza.
“I do know how to cook.”
“Yeah, but some of these are really tricky,” Hildy said. “I don’t want you to get discouraged.”
Eliza laughed. “I’m not trying to become a master chef. I’m just there to chop a few onions for you and stir a pot.”
“And you have to be nice,” Hildy said. “You have to smile—remember? People are there to have a good time. They drink a little wine, watch me make them food...”
“I thought they were supposed to be learning to cook.”
“Some of them,” Hildy said. “But a lot of them just come for the cheap food and booze. Doesn’t matter to me—I get paid either way, and Teddy gets people into the store.”
Eliza narrowed her eyes. “You’re sure he won’t be there? Because I’ve enjoyed just about enough of the Walsh boys for a while.”
Hildy waved her hand dismissively. “You’ll never see him. We’ll be in and out before he even remembers we were there. You’ll see—it’ll be an easy night.”
“An easy night,” Eliza thought later, didn’t really describe it.
31
Eliza wheeled Hildy’s cart into the store. It was five-thirty, and class wouldn’t begin for another hour.
“I’m over there,” Hildy said, pointing to the left side of the store. “Out in the space between the deli and the sushi bar.”
Eliza had fought her on the outfit.
“I’m not pretending to be a caterer tonight.”
“You’ll look more professional,” Hildy argued.
Eliza had been just about say no when Hildy added, “You’ll blend in. Nobody notices the staff. You’ll be practically invisible. Which I know you want.”
“All right, all right.”
So now she wore her white button-down shirt and a simple black skirt. Black flats to round out the boring look. She left her hair loose, since it was short enough now to only come to her chin.
She found a table where Hildy had indicated, draped in a thick white cotton tablecloth that reached all the way to the floor. Eliza unloaded the electric burners, the soup pot, sauté pan, and various other cooking equipment, then lined up Hildy’s spices.
“Go get the shrimp and scallops,” Hildy directed. “They’re supposed to be set aside at the meat counter. And then get a couple of green peppers and a head of garlic, three onions, some celery—”
“Can I have a list?”
Hildy handed her one of the recipe sheets she’d be giving the class. “And don’t be long, because you need to start chopping.”
“This is a lot of fun for me so far,” Eliza said. “So glad I volunteered.”
“And remember to smile,” Hildy said. She demonstrated. “Everyone notices a surly assistant. If you want to blend in...”
Eliza muttered to herself as she headed off toward the meat counter. She actually didn’t mind helping Hildy, and didn’t mind getting out of the house with her for a change instead of making yet another dinner-worthy sandwich and eating it in front of the television. But it wouldn’t be good to let Hildy know that. She didn’t want her mother-in-law to think this was a permanent arrangement. Eliza would happily resign as assistant as soon as Hildy had the use of her arm again.
“Well,” she heard a woman’s voice say.
Eliza looked up from her ingredient list to see Livia standing in her way.
And behind her, David.
Eliza felt sick.
“I heard you were back. How are you?” Livia smiled and kissed Eliza on the cheek. “I love your hair.” Livia ran a hand through the ends of her own. “Short hair looks so much better on women over thirty.”
Eliza’s eyes flicked toward David. She caught him looking back before he quickly glanced away.
“So what are you doing?” Livia asked. She laughed as she surveyed Eliza’s costume. “I know what you’re doing tonight—I saw it on the schedule—but I mean in general. If you’re free, we should get together some time next week. Have coffee. Catch up.”
Eliza felt completely, utterly confused. By the entire situation. Was David back with Livia? Why was Livia still trying to be her friend?
Eliza stumbled over her words. “I...I have to get this shopping done.” She held up the recipe sheet. “I’m...I’ve got to go.”
“All right, but I really am going to call you,” Livia said. “I think I still have your number.” She turned to David. “Or you can give it to me.”
His face turned as red as the maples. Eliza was happy to see it. At least he had the decency to be ashamed, or if not ashamed, at least embarrassed.
Once again, he hadn’t said a word. Eliza felt a perverse pleasure in forcing him to answer her now.
“How are you, David?”
He nodded.
“I thought this was Ted’s store.”
“David supervises all the locations,” Livia informed her.
“Uh-huh.” Eliza felt her strength returning with every moment that went by. She looked directly at David, forcing him to see her. She wondered if her own face was red. If so, it was with anger, not embarrassment.
“I enjoyed our chat the other morning,” she said.
“When was that?” Livia asked.
Eliza ignored her. “It was nice to catch up,” she told David. “Find out what we’ve both been doing the past few months.”
Now she turned to Livia. “But I can see you’ve been well—both of you. I have to go now, but it was great talking to you both. See you later.”
“I’m going to come to one of Hildy’s classes,” Livia said as Eliza walked away.
“You do that,” Eliza answered, not turning around. She’d spent every last bit of energy on that conversation, and had nothing left to spare.
She stood at the meat counter, waiting for them to bring Hildy’s seafood, and felt her heart pounding as if she’d just climbed a mountain peak. She closed her eyes and tried to steady herself. She forced herself to breathe.
When she turned around, David was there. Alone. Now it was Eliza’s turn to avoid looking him in the eye.
“She works for me,” he said.
“Don’t...say anything.” She closed her eyes for a moment, then slowly opened them and gazed into David’s. “I can’t take it.”
She clutched the packages to her chest and walked away from him. Wondered if he would follow, hoped to heaven he wouldn’t.
“El...iza.”
She kept on walking. If she turned now, he’d see her. Know the effect he had.
Eliza waited until she reached the end of the store before changing course and heading for the produce. She glanced back quickly to make sure it was safe, then lifted the cuff of her sleeve to her face. She hadn’t cried for any man since Jamey, and she wasn’t going to start again. Especially not over something like this. Jamey was a true tragedy. David was...
Different.
And free to do whatever he liked.
* * *
Eliza felt drugged for the rest of the night. She smiled, because it didn’t matter anymore. She didn’t need a personality of her own. She was satisfied turning it over to Hildy, to the crowd of increasingly-tipsy men and women, to the store, to the Walshes—take it all.
But when Hildy and Eliza finally closed themselves back in the car, Eliza let the flood overtake her.
She sat in the front seat, sobbing against the steering wheel, while Hildy tried to console her and find out what was wrong.
>
It passed like a storm. Eliza cried in one great burst, then found herself laughing five minutes later.
“I’m such an idiot!” she told Hildy. “I’m the stupidest person I’ve ever met! I can’t believe I ever thought...” She let just one more sob escape, then stifled it with her hand. “I ever thought he might love me.”
“Was it David?” Hildy said gently. “Did you see him?”
“Didn’t you?”
“No, honey.”
Eliza wiped her nose on her sleeve. “He was there with Livia.” She said it like she was ten—Katie Jackson would have been proud.
“I’m sorry, honey. I’m so sorry.”
Eliza shook her head and started the car. “What a nightmare.”
They drove several blocks before Hildy said, “Thank you for tonight. You were a great help. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“It was just the shock, you know?”
“I know, honey.”
And in the back of her mind she thought, This is Jamey’s mother. I’m crying over a man. I’m crying because a man hurt me. Boo-hoo—at least he didn’t die. I’m such a fool. I’m a child. I was right to leave. I wish I’d never come back.
“Lizzy?”
“What.”
“It might not mean what you think.”
“I don’t care. And I’m sure it does, Hildy. That man has...needs, shall we say. I’m sure he didn’t last a week before he took up with Livia again.”
Hildy paused for a moment. Then, “It doesn’t mean he never felt something for you.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Eliza said. “I learned my lesson. Now I know. I won’t ever be shocked again.”
They rode the rest of the way in silence. Eliza helped Hildy out of the car and into the house. Then she went back to unload the equipment.
The night was cold—maybe colder than any since she had returned. She wore just a thin jacket over her white blouse, and it barely warmed her arms. She zipped it all the way to the collar, then leaned back against Hildy’s car, studying the moon and the stars.
