He knew the moment I walked in the door that it had not been a good day. When I told him what I had been doing all afternoon, he seemed confused. Jaime is the biggest Cubs fan I know, so he naturally didn’t understand how going to a game, especially when I didn’t have to pay for the ticket, could equate a bad day. When I told him I had gone with a woman, he understood immediately.
“You can’t take a woman anywhere,” he said before taking a big swig of beer. “They don’t even understand about the Other Curse.”
What other curse? I wanted to know.
“Ah,” he said, “you are just as bad as your lady friend. Everyone knows about the goat and Billy Sianis. I am talking about the Mets and the black cat.”
I was intrigued. Had the Mets joined the unfortunate ranks of the Cubs and the Red Sox and got themselves a curse?
“No, no, I am referring to the curse the Mets fans put on the Cubs.” At my confused look he continued. “The Cubbies were having a great year in 1969–until September. The Mets and the Cubs met on September ninth, New York City, and halfway through the game some fans let a black cat onto the field.” At this point Jaime drained his beer and looked at the empty mug sadly.
So what about the cat? I asked. I dislike cats as a rule, but how could a cat affect a ball game?
“The cat glared at the player waiting in the on deck circle and then stalked back and forth in front of the Cubs’ dugout, glaring at the team as it did so. They lost the game and then completely collapsed in September, losing the pennant to the Mets. Things have never been the same.”
Jamie drained his second mug of beer and belched. “Ay,” he said. “The other curse. No one thinks of that anymore. It’s almost like they’re too involved in their own personal curses to fuss over a silly black cat.”
Personal curses? Surely he wasn’t saying that he was cursed, too?
“What are you, a White Sox fan? I thought you had to be smart to be a writer. No, I mean the things that can bog a person down, like relatives that disappoint you, or trains that are always late. You know, personal curses.”
Ah, I did know what he meant.
“I have a friend,” he went on, “who suffers from the worst kind of personal curse there is–the curse of loneliness. People think that because she has friends and comes from a family with money that it is impossible for her to be lonely. But she is. And that is the worst curse of all.”
When I left Jaime’s later that evening, I thought about the friend he had been speaking of. I was pretty sure I knew who she was, and I felt guilty that I had been partly responsible for her loneliness.
Sure, she had friends. And sure, she had a sister who loved and needed her. But no one really takes care of her the way she takes care of everyone else. And I, her next-door neighbor, have been partly to blame.
So I have decided to bury the proverbial hatchet, swallow my puffed-up pride, and be kind to her. I will treat her the same as I treat any other pretty woman of my acquaintance. She may not want me to be kind, but hey, that’s too bad. It’s the least I can do to make up for all the rude things I’ve said to her over the past few weeks.
And maybe, if I’m lucky, losing the rudeness I seem to have adopted in her presence will help me rid myself of my own curse–the curse of liking someone more than I want to.
Chapter Six
Over the next few days, Rebecca didn’t see much of Elliot. They would pass in the hallway every now and then and he would politely ask how she was doing and then continue on his way. She figured this was his way of being kind without really trying. And his columns were as non-personal as she had seen them.
It was a welcome reprieve, she told herself. It was a relief not to have to avoid the newspaper every day for fear you would find yourself in it, and not to have to find an escape route every time someone was in the same room. It was really much easier this way.
But even though the past few weeks had been tense and uncomfortable, Rebecca found that she missed, in a disturbing sort of way, their arguments. She started to doubt her sanity and figured she needed something that would take up all her concentration.
So even though Cassie’s new washer and dryer hadn’t been installed yet, Rebecca decided to teach Cassie the fundamentals of laundering, and to that end, took her to the downstairs laundry room. She was prepared to be frustrated, after all, the situation was a bit unnatural. Cassie was the only twenty-two-year-old she knew who didn’t know how to wash her own clothes. However, she wasn’t prepared for Cassie’s enthusiastic response.
“I’m so ready to do things on my own,” Cassie said as she held the door open for Rebecca, who was loaded down with two baskets of dirty clothes. “I just know it’ll be so rewarding to look at myself in the mirror every day and think, ‘I did this. I am responsible for these clean, beautiful clothes.’” Cassie twirled around the room, her arms extended. “This is going to be so much fun!”
Rebecca dropped the baskets on the floor and stared at her sister. She had never felt the level of satisfaction over clean laundry that Cassie was describing, and she really hoped Cassie wouldn’t be disappointed at the end of their lesson. “The first thing you have to do is separate the clothes,” she said, sitting on a chair next to the baskets to watch.
“Separate them how?”
Rebecca started pulling things out of a basket. “By color. If you wash white clothes with colored clothes, Michael could end up with pink underwear. Let’s start with three piles: whites, lights, and darks.”
Cassie started going through her clothes. “How do you know if something is light or dark?”
Grabbing two blue shirts, Rebecca tossed them over. “How do you think?”
“Oh.” Cassie grinned sheepishly at Rebecca. A few minutes later she was finished, although instead of the three simple piles of clothing Rebecca had envisioned, there were eight.
Rebecca smiled in bemusement as she poked a pile with her foot. “How did you separate these things?”
“Well, I couldn’t decide which things went in your categories so I made up my own. This way, each load will have the same color in it and nothing bad can happen.”
Rebecca thought about pointing out that the laundry would take days to finish this way, especially when she would only have one washing machine at her disposal. But when she saw Cassie’s satisfied expression, she didn’t have the heart to say anything. “All right,” she conceded. “You might change your mind later, but for now we’ll do it your way.”
After she showed Cassie the different temperatures and spin cycles, she turned the machine on and told her to pour in the soap. “Not too much,” she warned. “You don’t have very large loads here.”
Cassie looked at the detergent dubiously. “How do I know how much to put in?”
“There are little lines on the cap,” Rebecca said. “Just fill it to the bottom line.”
Once all eight washers were loaded, Rebecca told Cassie to go back upstairs. “Now we wait,” she said. “There’s nothing to do until they’re finished, so you might as well go back up to the apartment and see what’s taking the appliance people so long to get your own washer and dryer installed.”
Cassie threw her arms around Rebecca’s neck. “I really appreciate this,” she said. “I think I would have broken every washer in the building if I had to do this by myself.” She grinned. “Elliot doesn’t know what he’s missing.”
“Excuse me?”
Cassie waved her arm dismissively in the air. “Oh, come on,” she said. “He’s so busy flirting with Nicole that he can’t see how much you’ve changed since high school.”
“I haven’t changed that much.”
“Yes you have. Even I can see it, and we both know I’m not the most observant peacock on the farm.” She laughed at Rebecca’s expression. “You have changed,” she said. “When you left home for college you were this meek little thing that always did what people told you to do. You never made any of the big decisions for yourself. Now look at you. You have a gre
at job–”
“That doesn’t pay all that much–”
“–That pays you enough to live on your own,” Cassie continued, pretending that Rebecca hadn’t said anything. “You paid for your own car, and you have a college education. Sometimes I’m jealous of you. I could never have done the things you’ve managed, and you did it all on your own.”
Rebecca stared at Cassie. Maybe she had changed more than she thought she had. “You can do most of those things, too,” she said finally. “You just need to decide what you want to do.”
“Maybe, maybe not,” Cassie said. “I’m going upstairs to make some phone calls. Are you sure you’ll be okay down here by yourself?”
“Of course,” Rebecca laughed, “What could possibly happen to me in your super-fine laundry room?”
When Cassie had gone, Rebecca sat down in a chair close to the window and thought about what Cassie had said. She had done a lot since high school, she realized. She just never put it all together like Cassie had.
Rebecca leaned her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. She couldn’t remember the last time she had enjoyed a decent night’s sleep, and she was tired…
She was dreaming about a white shirt being chased through Cassie’s apartment by a huge pair of red socks when the socks started to talk. “It can’t be that bad,” they said in a deep voice.
The shirt collapsed to the floor.
“Well, put him on,” the socks said in the same voice. There was a pause. “Locke. This is Elliot. What’s up?”
The shirt turned into a lock without a keyhole. “What you need is a distraction,” the socks said in a cheerful voice. “Why don’t I come up and see you next week?”
The lock was silent. Rebecca thought it looked sad.
“No, really, I want to,” the socks insisted. “I have a week off at the paper. We’ll hang out at the cottage.”
The lock still didn’t say anything.
“All right, maybe I’m not that fun,” the socks said grumpily. “I’ll bring some of my friends with me. Maybe even some pretty girls.”
The lock looked horrified.
“Yes, I know the girls,” the socks said in some exasperation. “One of them is even available for a little innocent flirtation.”
At this the lock perked up.
“I’m not bringing Rebecca.”
The socks suddenly morphed into Elliot.
I know that voice, Rebecca thought hazily, and tried to wake up. It was harder than she thought; the lights were off and the room was so lovely and warm… She gave up the fight and sank back into sleep.
“I can’t bring her,” Elliot said, sounding a little depressed. “I’ve been trying to avoid her all week.” He paused. “Why? Because she’s even more… everything than she was in high school, and I can’t afford to get involved in all that again after I’ve made so much progress in getting over her…
“Yes, all right, I’ll bring her anyway so you can see for yourself that it’s a hopeless cause and stop nagging me about it. You sound like an old woman. It’ll be on your head if I commit hari-kari… I know, I know, you want to meet the woman that broke my heart. I’ll call you later on in the week to let you know how many will be coming with me… All right, with us. Are you finished yet?… Talk to you soon. Bye.”
Rebecca finally managed to pry her eyes open and stirred in her chair. It wasn’t as comfortable as she had thought, and she stretched her legs out in front of her. The dream was already fading.
“Rebecca?” Elliot was in front of her. His voice sounded a little panicked.
“Mmhm?”
“How long have you been there?” The panic was starting to grow more pronounced.
Rebecca yawned. “I don’t know,” she said sleepily, and rubbed her eyes. “Since the spin cycle, I guess.” She stood up and finally got a good look at Elliot. He appeared flustered. “Is something wrong? Did Cassie send you to get me?”
She was starting to get into one of her not-quite-awake-yet frights when Elliot spoke. “No, she’s fine,” he said, calmer now. “Did you have a sweet dream?”
Rebecca sat back down and tried to recall the dream. It had been very strange, she remembered. “There was a pair of red socks,” she said slowly, “talking to a lock. The lock wanted the socks to do something. Visit, maybe. I can’t remember exactly.” She shook her head. “I need to get more sleep at night.”
Elliot half-smiled. “Me too.” He cleared his throat. “Are you doing Cassie’s laundry again?”
Rebecca glanced at the row of washers. All of them had stopped. “No,” she said. “Well, kind of. I was teaching her how to do her own laundry, and I must have fallen asleep waiting for them to be finished. Do you need them?”
“Whenever you’re done.” Elliot’s voice had returned to normal, and he put his cell phone in his pocket. “Do you have any plans for tomorrow night?”
Rebecca froze, her arms full of wet clothes. When she didn’t say anything, Elliot cleared his throat again self-consciously. “Nicole wants to throw a party at my apartment, and I was hoping you, Cassie and Michael would come. You know, to liven things up a bit. Feel free to say no if you want to.” He added the last part in a rush.
Maybe he wants me to say no, Rebecca thought. She glanced up at him. He looked half hopeful, half guilty. What was he hoping for? she wondered. And what could he have to feel guilty about? She eyed him surreptitiously. He was staring at his feet with his hands in his pockets. Well, whichever it was, if he could make the effort to be kind, the least she could do was return the favor. “I don’t think we have anything planned,” she said. “What time would you like us there?”
“Eight o’clock.” The expression on Elliot’s face hadn’t changed.
“We’ll be there,” she promised. Ready or not, here we come.
***
When she was back in the apartment, she went searching for Cassie. She was on the phone, lying in the couch and flipping through televisions stations without really paying attention to what she was doing.
“I’m on hold,” she said, glancing up when Rebecca sat on the other end of the couch.
“You haven’t been on hold this long, have you?”
Cassie nodded, seemingly unperturbed. “They’ll answer eventually,” she said. “And, promise not to laugh… I kind of like listening to the elevator music they play.”
It was hard to keep a straight face, so to distract herself, Rebecca said the first thing that popped into her mind. “Elliot invited us to a party he and Nicole are throwing at his apartment tomorrow,” she said. “I told him we could come.”
Cassie sat up. “A party? Nicole’s–” she stopped to snort “–throwing a party at Elliot’s place?”
Rebecca nodded. “If you and Mick can’t come I don’t think anyone will mind.”
Cassie threw a pillow at her.
“You know what I meant.”
Cassie laughed. “Yeah, we’re always the life of the party. Do you have anything to wear?”
Why did it always return to clothes? Rebecca wondered. She had just washed enough clothing to cover an entire third world country in fashionable attire. “I suppose I could just use something we bought the other day,” she said, not really caring what she wore.
Cassie stood up and walked to Rebecca’s room. “I don’t think so,” she called back a minute later. “I think we need to go party shopping this afternoon.”
Please let there be a mall emergency, Rebecca prayed. Any emergency. Water main break, power outage, all the stores are mysteriously sold out of every piece of cloth...”Why don’t you go without me?” she asked. “You already know all my sizes, and I trust your judgment.”
Reappearing, Cassie took a long look at her sister. She was obviously weighing her options. Rebecca was sure she was thinking that it would be fun to torture her. But it would also be fun to choose something Rebecca never would and force her into it because she hadn’t had the guts to go along. “All right,” she said finally, fl
ashing a large, self-satisfied smile at Rebecca. “But you have to promise not to complain about what I choose for you.”
The second option had obviously been more tempting. “As long as it covers all the necessary parts, I will.”
A few minutes later the phone had been turned off and Cassie had shut the door behind her. There were only a moment of quiet before her phone beeped with an incoming message.
Everyone still alive over there?
There’s no rest for the weary, Rebecca thought. It would be easier to text back.
Yes, Faye. Thanks for the concern.
Only for my favorite niece.
How are William and Elisa?
Adjusting fairly well. Only one shopping trip so far. And Cassie?
Rebecca smiled to herself. Some traits ran strong in her family.
Shopping as we speak.
That’s funny.
Rebecca laughed.
How are you doing? Holding down the fort?
Saw Aaron Sharpe at your dad’s yesterday. He came by to meet you.
Rebecca almost turned off the phone.
Don’t lie.
I’m serious. He wanted to see if you’d have dinner with him. Adrianna thought he was very handsome.
I bet she did, Rebecca thought. Adrianna thought any rich, available and some not so available man was handsome. Even her father.
That’s nice. Too bad I wasn’t there to meet him.
Exactly what I thought. Why don’t you meet us tomorrow for dinner?
Grateful for the first time that Elliot had invited her to that blasted party, Rebecca sent back her regrets.
Already have plans. Maybe next time.
All right. Talk to you later.
Rebecca was surprised Faye gave up that easily. Maybe she’d focus her matchmaking on Aaron and Elisa. It sounded like they deserved each other.
***
The next afternoon, Cassie dragged her sister to the spa. “It’s very relaxing,” she said. “And we haven’t done any of that sister stuff in a long time. Besides, it won’t cost you anything. Faye said it was on her.”
The Ex's Confession Page 8
