When You Went Away

by Michael Baron

  “We’ve been found out,” I said.

  “I know,” she said, smiling and kissing me. “Elaine Dunham has the fastest pipeline in the business.”

  “How did Elaine Dunham find out?”

  “I told her.”

  “You told her?”

  “She saw us walking in together and said that it looked like there was something going on between us. I figured it was silly to lie to her at this point.”

  “You did?”

  Ally tilted her head and moved to sit down behind her desk. “We’ve been together a while now, Gerry. Were you planning on keeping it a secret indefinitely?” “I thought we agreed to decide together when to tell people and how.”

  She sat back in her chair and I leaned against one of her walls. “Why is this a problem?” she said.

  “It’s not a problem. But it is an issue.”

  “Gerry, I’m extremely happy with what we have between us. It’s hard for me not to share this with the people I spend so much time with.”

  “And if you had told me that, we would have talked about how to let people know. Having Elaine Dunham turn it into a breaking news story probably wasn’t the best way. There are people here who have known me since Tanya was in second grade.”

  “And you’re worried about what they think of you.”

  “I’m not worried about what they think of me.”

  “Of course you are.”

  I put a hand out. “Yes, I am. Is that such a terrible thing?”

  “Am I a fling?”

  The question seemed to come from some other conversation entirely. “What?”

  “Am I a fling? Did you just assume that this was a little dalliance and that it would be over soon and you’d never have to mention it to anyone?”

  “I didn’t assume anything.”

  Her face got hard. “Gee, thanks.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way. I meant that I literally didn’t assume this relationship. I never thought it would happen and once it did, it just took on a life of its own.”

  “So it could be a fling.”

  “It’s not a fling. I don’t have flings.”

  “You haven’t had a new relationship since the first George Bush was President.How the hell would you know?”

  I sat on the edge of a chair. “I know.”

  Ally looked down at her desk and shook her head. “I was actually having a lot of fun this morning.”

  “Ally, Frank Marcus leered at me when he asked me about it.”

  She reached out for my hand and I took it. “Sorry,” she said.

  I squeezed her hand and then released it. “Hey, they say there’s no such thing as bad publicity.” I kissed her softly on the top of her head and squeezed her shoulders for a second. She looked up at me and I bent down to kiss her again. I couldn’t get Frank’s expression out of my mind.

  On the way back to my office, I stopped to see Marshall. There was a chance that word hadn’t gotten around to him and he might actually appreciate hearing it from me first. Of course, he was on the phone and of course, he was agitated. I asked his assistant to let him know that I came to see him, but as I moved to leave, he called out to me and gestured me in. I sat across from him and waited until he ended his call.

  “The good news is that your new comforter is selling through the roof,” he said when he hung up the phone. “The bad news is that we’ve grossly under-produced it and will be out of stock for six weeks. Do you know how much I’d pay for something to go well without qualifications right now?”

  “Hey, at least it’s selling.”

  “No, it was selling. Now, it’s not selling because we don’t have any to sell.”

  I stood up. “This isn’t a good time.”

  He gestured me back down. “If you wait until a good time to talk to me, we may never speak again. What’s going on?”

  I leaned forward a little. “Listen, I wasn’t really ready to go public with this, but it happened anyway and I want you to hear it from me. It’s about me and Ally Ritten.”

  Marshall laughed. “I’ve known you’ve been boinking Ally for weeks now.”

  “Boinking. That’s the word I was looking for to describe our relationship. How’d you know about this?”

  “You don’t get where I am without having a first-rate intelligence system.”

  “Does this involve cameras and listening devices?”

  “Yeah, because I spend all day and night thinking about your personal life.What’s your point with this little bit of info?”

  “It’s an inter-office thing. I thought you might have some concerns.”

  “And if I did and I told you that I wanted you to end it for the good of the company, would you do so?”

  His attitude threw me a little. “That’s a little extreme, don’t you think?”

  “Then any thought about my concerns really isn’t an issue, is it?”

  “You know, Marshall, there was a time not that long ago when we could actually have a conversation.” This seemed to give him a moment’s pause. But then he leaned forward in his chair and said, “Gerry, believe me when I tell you that I don’t give a shit who you’re screwing. My assistant can be giving you lap dances for all I care. Hey, if you’re gonna go out with anyone, it might as well be someone from here. Might make you think about work a little more.”

  I stood up again. I felt angry and a tiny bit humiliated. “That’s all I came here to say.”

  “Thanks for the update.”

  I turned and headed for the door. As I got there, Marshall called out to me. “You ready for this?”

  I looked back at him. “Sometimes ready isn’t an issue.”

  “Don’t fool yourself. Ready is always an issue.”

  • • •

  I remember the first time I played one of my songs for someone else. I’d played it to myself dozens of times and imagined it with a full production and the backing of world-class musicians. But having someone else in the room made me hear it again the way it actually sounded and I realized the song needed considerably more work.

  Presenting our relationship to my colleagues had the similar effect of causing me to see it anew. And where I let pure emotion and a certain amount of relief carry me for a couple of months, all kinds of things that I’d sublimated came rising up again. It wasn’t that I felt ashamed that others believed I’d moved on from Maureen’s death so easily or that they thought this was a worthy topic for gossip, but that this forced me to confront my own ambiguities. I suppose it was just a matter of time before this happened. At some point, I had to realize that I couldn’t run away from my own most intense feelings, and there was so much that was still unresolved.

  This forced me to face two daunting questions: was I ready for the world to perceive me as part of Gerry-and Ally as opposed to Gerry-and-Maureen? And was I ever going to be able to get to that point? For whatever reason, whether it was my being overly concerned about what other people thought or how going public made me “hear the song a different way,” this event made me look at what I was doing with Ally and wonder if I’d let it go much further than I ever should have. People coming to the company now would know me as someone who dated someone else in the office rather than as someone who was married for nearly two decades to a remarkable woman who died much too soon.

  And I didn’t want Maureen’s memory diminished like that. Not in the minds of others. And certainly not in my own mind.

  But at the same time, this wasn’t just about choosing not to move on anymore. Ally was here, she was real, and I had very strong feelings for her. I didn’t float along the past two months because I decided to take a vacation from grieving. It happened because she got to me. She inspired me to believe in enjoying myself again. She excited me and seduced me. She befriended me and captivated me. She wasn’t just a playmate for Reese and me. She was someone I cared about deeply. A more cautious man never would have let it get this far. But I was way past the point where I could do anything about t
hat.

  This was difficult stuff. No easy answers were available, nor were any forthcoming. For two months, I gave my head and heart a reprieve from the consternation and the complications. It was impossible to continue that way.

  This is not to say that I didn’t try. Not knowing the best way to deal with this with Ally, I went with the easiest available short-term solution: I did absolutely nothing. That night, when she asked me how I felt about what happened, I shrugged it off, telling her that surprise made me apprehensive earlier and that, as the day went on, I gained some perspective.

  It also helped that Reese was especially diverting. He was now an expert at cruising and thought it was hilarious that he could make his way completely around the coffee table.He did this literally dozens of times, picking up a little bit of speed with each revolution and laughing loudly and pounding the table. Later, when he tired of this exercise, he grabbed a stuffed animal and chomped down on it. When this elicited a chortle from us, he did it again, glancing over to make sure he was still getting a reaction. He did this easily ten times before crawling over to me to pick him up. He obviously loved being the center of attention, but he also seemed to be a born entertainer. Maybe this meant he would write his kids songs for their birthdays some day. Hopefully, what it really meant was that he would always keep the happiness of others in mind.

  It would be healthier if this didn’t include enabling his father to run away from his issues. But for one night, I appreciated it.

  • • •

  The next night, Codie came over again for dinner. Though we talked on the phone nearly every other day, it had been a couple of weeks since we got together. Seeing Codie after yesterday’s events made my quandary much realer. I hadn’t felt before as though I was lying to her by not mentioning Ally, but now it seemed absurd and dishonest. And here in front of this woman especially, the last thing I wanted to do was be dishonest.

  I macerated plum tomatoes in olive oil and garlic all day, grilled some halibut, and tossed it all together with tagliarini, fresh oregano, and crumbled ricotta salata. I brought our dishes to the table, where Codie fed Reese his second bowl of ditalini. He’d decided since that night with Ally that starchy carbs were as acceptable as sweet ones.

  “Listen, I have something to tell you,” I said with probably more gravity than I intended.

  “Tell me you’re moving to Duluth and I’ll break your arm right now,” she said sharply.

  “Why would I move to Duluth?”

  “It was the first place I thought of.”

  “You have an interesting mind. I’m not moving. There’s a woman.” She tilted her chin forward exactly the way that Maureen did. This was more than a little disconcerting under the circumstances. “I’ve started going out with someone.”

  She twirled a forkful of pasta, but didn’t bring it to her mouth. “Going out with someone the way I go out with someone or the way you go out with someone.” “I don’t know how I go out with someone. The last time I went out with someone you became my sister-in-law.”

  “My point exactly.”

  “It’s hard to say. I mean, it should be hard to say, right? We’ve only been together for a couple of months.”

  Codie’s expression shifted and I swear that her eyes misted over. “You’ve been going out with someone for a couple of months?”

  “I know. That sounds like a long time to me too when I say it that way.”

  “Wow.”

  “Do you hate me?”

  “For not telling me about this sooner? Yeah, I think I might. I thought we had an everything-on the table relationship happening between us.”

  “I meant do you hate me for doing it.”

  “Why would I hate you for doing it?”

  “Because of Maureen.”

  “She might hate you for doing it. Me? I think it’s good for you.What’s her name?”

  “Ally. Why do you think it’s good for me?”

  “What’s the alternative?” She looked over at the baby. “Reese doesn’t need a dad in a cocoon.”

  “Saying I’m conflicted about this is a serious understatement.” She patted me on the hand. “Which is why I love you, Gerry. But feel what you feel. Don’t worry about whether I hate you or whether anyone else has an opinion about this. Does Reese like her?”

  “He seems to.”

  “Not as much as me, though, right?”

  “She doesn’t have as much money to spend on his affections.”

  Codie smirked. “He would adore me even if I didn’t bring him things.” She fed Reese another spoon of his pasta. “Remember,” she said to him, “I’ll always be your aunt and I’ll always be around to give you anything you want.” She turned back to me. “She has no reason to take you to Duluth, right?”

  “None that I’m aware of.”

  “And you really like her?”

  “I think I really do.”

  “Does she have a brother?”

  “Sorry.”

  She squeezed my hand again. “This is good for you.”

  “Do you think so? I’m worried about losing touch with my feelings for Maureen.”

  She regarded me skeptically. “Is that really a possibility?”

  “I don’t know what is and isn’t a possibility. I wouldn’t have thought that this was a possibility. For that matter, I never thought it would be possible to be sitting here right now with you instead of my wife.”

  She laughed quietly in that way that people laugh when they think of something that shouldn’t be funny. “I can’t answer that for you, Gerry.”

  I smiled. “Can you try? It would be a huge help.” She looked down at her plate and twirled. “The pasta’s good.”

  THE WORLD found out about Ally and me the other night. We were a hot story in the office for a couple of days. I told your aunt about her tonight and she took it well, though she may have been doing that for my benefit. Codie’s really an amazing person. I’m not sure why I didn’t notice that sooner.

  Ally’s an amazing person too, Queenie. She’s been a real lifeline for me. I think the two of you might even like each other once you cross some ridiculously high hurdles (not the least of which include your never meeting at all for a variety of reasons). Your brother has been a tremendous diversion and inspiration, as has this journal. But providing care for someone isn’t actually moving forward and worrying about someone certainly isn’t. What I have with Ally gives me a different kind of direction.

  I guess most kids have trouble imagining their parents with another partner. I can just imagine what you’ll think when you read this. Romance is usually accidental – a matter of events conspiring to throw two people together. Certainly, it was that way with your mother and me, and it was with just about every relationship I had in my life. One rarely gets the opportunity to plan this kind of thing and logic never governs the way these things start. To say the least, I wouldn’t have designed the scenario under which Ally and I started dating. There isn’t a single thing about it that makes sense or is even advisable – except for the connection we have to one another. That makes an unusual amount of sense and while I struggled with the notion of being with her (still struggle with it, actually) it is impossible to deny that there is something significant there.

  It may turn out that none of this amounts to very much in the end. Things might simply not work out between us. Or the considerable guilt and confusion I feel over anyone taking your mother’s position in my life – even if only physically – might undermine it. There’s an excellent chance that my ability to see things clearly was seriously impaired on a bitterly cold January night and that when I recover, I’ll realize that everything I did since then was one massive case of bad judgment.

  But regardless of how this plays out, the fact will remain that I made room in my heart for another person. One might have thought that I didn’t have any room left in there between the space dedicated to your mother, you, and your brother, along with the annex I built to accommodate missi
ng you and your mother. But it turns out there was still a spot available. Maybe the heart is like an expandable file, filling to accommodate everything you need to carry with you.

  Hopefully it’s not like a hall of mirrors.

  BOOK THREE

  Runaway Train

  TWENTY

  Scar Tissue

  Dad,

  This is probably going to make you insanely happy, but even still, I feel like I have to tell you. Mick and I have split up. You know, you freaked him out pretty badly that night in Pittsburgh (I know the feeling) and for a while back then I thought we weren’t going to make it. I was a huge mess over Mom and he kept looking over his shoulder thinking you were going to show up with a SWAT team, even though I told him that you wouldn’t. We weren’t in any condition to have a relationship and I just wanted to be by myself while at the same time I wanted him to sit next to me and try to make me feel better. But we held on and some of the other people in the van really helped us out.

  Things were okay for a while after that. I still think about Mom all the time, but I could finally go to a show again instead of sitting in the van by myself. And once I started doing this, things between Mick and me improved and we really started talking. One of the millions of things you never understood about Mick was that he was a really, really good listener and his observations were unbelievably wise. We’d stay up late at night after the shows and I just told him everything that was going on in my head about Mom and about you and even about the baby. And doing it helped. We started to have fun again. That was another thing you never understood about Mick – he could be a ton of fun.

  Then I went through this really horrible phase. Have you had stuff like this? I don’t know what set it off, but I became obsessed with thinking about Mom and about the nuclear explosion that went off in her head and about how none of us was around to help her when she really needed us. It was all I could talk about and I would have these crying fits and these despondent hours and I said the same things over and over again.