by T. Torrest
I lowered my menu and finally met Maxine’s eyes. “Of course, darling.”
“Oh, really? You just said it’s fine if I order you a glass of apple juice.”
I snapped to attention, realizing that our server was at our table, patiently waiting on our drink order. “Excuse me. My apologies. The lady will have a glass of chardonnay and I’ll have an Amaretto on the rocks.”
“Very good,” our waiter answered before taking off.
I met Maxine’s eyes to find her shaking her head in exasperation. “I had to call your name three times before you acknowledged me.”
“Sorry,” I offered. “I was too busy staring at the menu.”
“Amongst other things.”
My girlfriend was no dummy. She was obviously aware of what I’d really been staring at. In true high-class fashion, she didn’t allow her eyes to wander. But she knew exactly who was sitting a few tables away. It took every ounce of strength I possessed but from then on out, I managed to avoid looking over, too.
Saul and Mitzi Bauer joined us, so I was able to focus my attentions on the task of parting Saul’s money from his wallet instead of parting Brummel’s head from his neck.
We sipped our drinks and we ate our dinner and we had our coffee. In between, we discussed Maxine’s goals for The Norman Society, and chatted casually about my cooking and our tennis games. We charmed and cajoled our guests, insisted on paying for dinner, and smiled graciously when Saul ultimately cut a check for two thousand dollars.
And just as we were getting up to leave, we ran right into my ex-wife.
I’d been ushering Maxine from her chair and had just tucked her hand into my arm when a giggling Brenda broke her gaze from her escort and our eyes met.
I was surprised it hadn’t happened before now, to be honest.
The air between us crackled with an almost tangible intensity, the same old electricity that always managed to run through my body at the sight of her. I snickered to myself, thinking about how I’d spent the past months trying my damnedest to forget that undeniable attraction.
I’d hoped it would go away.
I’d been terrified it would go away.
Brummel was the first to break the silence. “Edwards! Good God, man. How are you?” In true societal style, he managed a jovial tone.
In true societal style, I was forced to match it. “I’m well, Brummel. Nice to see you.” I nodded my head at my ex-wife. “Brenda. Always a pleasure.”
Brenda avoided speaking directly to me and instead held her hand out to my girlfriend. The overbright smile on her face must’ve been difficult to maintain. “Brenda Rinetti. And you are…?” she asked, as if she didn’t already know.
My girlfriend answered pleasantly, “Maxine Calloway.”
“Maxine. What a lovely name. It’s so wonderful to meet you.”
Maxine, never one to cause a scene, took Brenda’s hand in her own before responding, “And you are even more beautiful than your pictures. So nice to meet you, too.”
Despite the surreal vignette playing out in front of my eyes, I was supremely proud of my girlfriend and couldn’t help beaming at her. I knew it was an awkward moment, yet she managed to keep her composure and deal with the situation with her usual class. A perverse pride ran through me, having this chance to show off my new girl to my old one.
“So, how are you, Brummel? Things are okay with you these days?” I asked purely out of civility. Because the truth was, I couldn’t care less.
Even though he must’ve been well aware of my indifference, he wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to brag. “Things are better than okay. I’ve got a good job, a new wife. Heck, I’ve got a new life, thanks to this one.”
He squeezed Brenda a bit closer against his side, and while she smiled through it, she reprimanded him. “I’m not your wife yet, Beau. Not until Saturday, anyway.”
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. The wedding is Saturday? My stomach twisted into the most excruciating knot as my brain tried to register the information. I couldn’t believe that Tony or Ginny hadn’t filled me in on the plans.
I’d been in denial about the divorce. I’d been in denial about the engagement. I’d been in denial about the actual wedding. I guess there was a part of me that always figured Brenda would never go through with the marriage but this situation just got entirely too real for my liking. Christ. They’d set a date. And it was only two days from now.
She turned toward me, attempting to remain composed. But I was sure I was the only one out of the four of us that caught the strained smile on her face as she explained, “We were here tonight for our rehearsal dinner.”
I couldn’t confirm it, but I would swear there was a spark in Brenda’s eyes immediately following that bit of revelation. A burst of nostalgia shot straight down my spine when I thought about our rehearsal dinner, seven years and a lifetime ago. Was she thinking about how we snuck off to make love in the coat room? Did she remember how we whispered our vows right then and there while I was deep inside of her, unable to wait the extra day to say them for real?
She looked happy with him, though. There was no denying that. I started to wonder if maybe she had actually fallen in love with the guy. The thought was quite a blow to my heart and my ego. How could she stomach being anywhere near him?
Brummel placed Brenda’s cape around her shoulders and started to lead her away as she offered, “Well, it was lovely to see you, Eddie. Enjoy the rest of your night.”
“You, too, Bren…da. And best of luck on Saturday.” I held out my hand to her fiancé. “Congratulations, Brummel. You’ve landed yourself one hell of a girl.”
* * *
I waited for Maxine to fall asleep before sneaking down the stairs. I let myself out the kitchen door as quietly as possible and hopped behind the wheel of my new Porsche 911. Maxine bought it for me under the condition that I sell the Mustang. I wasn’t too happy about having to give up my baby but I got over it pretty quick.
Cars aren’t people.
The stereo was blaring out a Creedence tune, providing a perfect soundtrack for my race across two entire towns. Finally, I swerved down 52nd Street and brought the car to a jarring stop in front of my old building, got out, slammed the door, and marched to a spot of grass two floors below our lone picture window. I could see the blue glow emitting from the living room—Bren was either still up or sleeping with the television on.
My body was on auto-pilot. I didn’t think; I was beyond rational thought. Before I knew what was happening, my hands were cupped around my mouth as I screeched, “Brendaaaa!” like a complete lunatic. I took a breath and yelled again. “Brenda! Come out here and talk to me!”
The living room light changed to a bright yellow before Brenda pulled back the curtain and spotted me under the window. I couldn’t see her face; she was just a shadowy outline, but I saw her hand go to her hair before the curtains closed.
Within seconds, she was barging out of the front door—her hair damp, her body wrapped in a bathrobe—to chastise me. “Who are you, Stanley Kowalski? What the hell, Eddie?” Her eyes frantically searched up and down the street as she grabbed my arm and led me around to the courtyard at the side of our building. The “yard” was a tiny patch of grass and gravel with a coal-fired grill and a park bench—both of which no one ever used. The deserted space would afford us some privacy, at least.
“What are you doing here, Eddie?”
The anguish in her voice knocked the wind out of me, and I found myself dropping to my knees at her feet. I wrapped my arms around her thighs, and my mouth buried against her hip as I wailed without pride. “Oh God, Bren. Please don’t do this! Please don’t marry him. I know I said I’d be okay with it, but I can’t let you go through with this. I love you!”
Brenda’s eyes went wide at my admission, and she froze in shock for a second before common sense took over. She attempted to disentangle herself from my clutches as her whispered voice rasped, “Eddie, please get up! And keep your voice do
wn! Do you want the whole neighborhood to hear?”
My head and shoulders slumped as my hands fell to my sides. My next words were directed toward the grass at my knees. “I love you, Bren. I love you.” I made myself raise my head to meet her eyes. “I can’t let you do this.”
“Oh God. Please don’t do this to me. Not now. Not after I—”
“Please don’t marry him.”
“I have to.”
I shook my head at the ground and pleaded my case. “No. You don’t. I’m on my knees here, Bren. I’m begging you. Please don’t marry that guy. We can find a way to make it work. I’ll do whatever it takes. I swear.” I didn’t even try to stop the tears running down my cheeks. I was as surprised as she was that I was here, trying to get her back. I thought I was past this. I thought I was over the pain. But seeing her tonight… God. There was no way to deny it any longer. I couldn’t pretend anymore. “It feels like you’re beating me down. That’s what it feels like. In my heart. Like you’re beating the shit out of me from the inside.”
Brenda swiped a hand over her hair, staring off at something over my right shoulder. She shook her head slightly, her lips pressing into a firm line. She was visibly being torn in two, of that I was sure. The tears glistening in her fathomless brown eyes threatened to spill over as she clasped her robe in a fist at her throat, the fingertips of her free hand shaking over her lips. “What do you expect me to do, Eddie? Cancel all our plans? Two days before the wedding?”
“It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except that I love you.”
She dropped to her knees in front of me, abandoning her attempt to hold her robe closed as her hands reached up to cup my jaw, raising my eyes to hers. “I love you, too, Eddie. You know I do. But this decision has already been made—a long time ago, in fact. You’re going to have to find a way to get through this. You need to find a way to be happy. I’ve spent the past two years building this new life for myself. It wasn’t easy, but I did it. And now here you are, hours before my wedding to someone else to tell me you love me? Why are you doing this? Why are you making this so hard for me? You can’t expect me to just throw it all away. Not after everything we’ve gone through to get here.”
“I’m begging you.”
“It’s too late!” She tucked a swath of damp hair behind her ear with a shaky hand. “We talked about this. We don’t have a choice. Yes, it kills me, if you want to know the truth. But Beau’s a good guy. I’m going to be okay.”
I could see how hurt she was, and I knew that she was right. I didn’t have any right to just come barging back in at the zero hour, trying to rearrange her entire life. It was a risk to come here. What if Brummel was inside? What if I fucked up everything Brenda’d been trying to do the past two years?
“I’m sorry, Bren.”
“I know you are. I know.” She wrapped her arms around me tentatively, afraid to give me too much contact. She should’ve been. My face buried into her neck, breathing her in, that sweet, fresh smell that was hers and hers alone. I couldn’t control my shaking; I couldn’t see past the tears in my eyes; I couldn’t breathe through the loss. Before I realized what I was doing, I pulled back enough to plant my lips on hers. I just needed a taste. Just one last kiss to let me know that somehow, some way, she was still mine.
I was expecting her to pull away. But instead, a moan creaked from her throat as she melted into me, giving herself over to me completely. With that capitulation, I laid her down in the grass and covered her body with mine, swiping her robe away and running my trembling hand over her bare breast. Her entire body shivered at that, but the tears didn’t start flowing until I scratched out, “Oh God, I’ve missed you, Bren. I’ve missed you so much.” My mouth consumed hers once more, the both of us shuddering violently against one another, my hard-on pressing against her thigh. “Kiss me back, Bren. Show me how much you love me.”
She grabbed me by the back of my hair and pulled my lips to hers, the move causing a shockwave to consume my entire body. I couldn’t get enough of her. I shoved the rest of her robe to the sides of her delectable body and only managed a quick, greedy glance down her naked form before I covered it with my own, my hands exploring what my eyes had only briefly registered. All I wanted was to bury myself inside her, feel her soft warmth surrounding me, inviting me back to the only home I’d ever known.
I ripped at my jeans—unbuttoning, tearing my zipper down—shoving them low enough so that we were skin to skin. My heart was hammering against my ribcage and I could barely take my next breath. It was too much to deal with: My Bren, in my arms, naked underneath me once again. I positioned myself between her legs, and the sweet familiarity of our bodies only seconds away from joining caused my memory to run wild. The anticipation was killing me.
I was right there, and as I started to thrust forward… her sobbing stopped my motion. The sound vibrated into my mouth, reverberated down my chest, and had me feeling like a world-class asshole.
I’m hurting her.
I had no right to her. She was the love of my life, but this wasn’t about me right then. It was about her. And her life had been meticulously crafted within the walls of some other guy’s stone fortress, wrapped up in cash and dipped in gold. It’s what she always wanted.
And I wasn’t a part of it. Not now.
The longer I tried to keep her with me, the longer it would take her to let me go and move on. I was only holding her back.
With a tortured groan, I tore my mouth from hers and looked down at the gorgeous woman in my arms. The gorgeous, infuriating, crying woman in my arms.
“Aw Bren. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have…”
“No. I let you do it. It’s okay.”
“It was just… goodbye?” We’d said a thousand goodbyes. Was this going to be the one that finally stuck?
We both sat up as she ran her palms over her eyes. “Yes. Yes, I guess that’s what it was.” She placed a hand at my jaw, our eyes meeting in shared agony.
This was really it.
The love of my life was really going to marry another guy.
CHAPTER 25
This is the Time
BRENDA
Saturday, September 25
1982
My second wedding day.
No matter how many times I said it in my head, my brain just wouldn’t allow me to rationalize what was happening. I was a nervous wreck, and trust me, that fact was due to more than just the usual wedding day jitters. My stomach was positively churning at the thought of walking down that aisle. Even still, as much as I knew it wasn’t right, I also knew this was hardly the time to analyze it.
So, instead of wigging out and hopping on the nearest bus, I plastered a smile on my face and tried to remain as cheerful as I could.
But it wasn’t easy.
I’d already had my dream wedding, so I would have been content with a simple civil ceremony, something with a little less pomp. But since it was Beau’s first marriage, he insisted we do it in style. The thought niggled at the back of my brain that he was trying to prove something, to put his mark on me in the most public spectacle as possible.
It seemed wrong somehow to ask Virginia to stand up for me during my second go-round; she’d already been Matron of Honor during my first. But her lack of official attendant status didn’t stop her from helping me to get ready in the bridal room of the Saddle River Social Club.
She’d just pinned my veil to the back of my hair, leaving us both assessing the mirrored image of the bride in front of us. My gown was very modern—a cross between Luke-and-Laura and Princess Di—lace-over-silk with poofy sleeves that narrowed into points at my wrists; a fitted bodice which flowed into a mountain of white below my waist. The fabric kissed the tips of my toes and fanned out in an impressive train behind me.
The two of us stood there in an awkward silence as we stared at the mirror. “I can’t believe you’re really going through with this,” Ginny said to my reflection.
A millio
n thoughts swirled around my brain but I couldn’t put words to any of them. “Me either.”
She put her hands on my forearms and continued to speak over my shoulder. “If you’re having doubts, Brenda, just say the word. I can sneak you out of this place and Anthony can drive the getaway car.”
Her offer broke the tension and I found myself letting out with a laugh. “Oh, Ginny. You’re the best friend ever.”
“I’m your completely serious best friend ever.”
I turned toward her and grabbed her hands. “I know, and I appreciate it. Truly.”
“It’s just that… Today feels so different than… well, you know, because…”
In true Virginia fashion, she couldn’t allow herself to be tacky enough to mention my first husband’s name on the day I was preparing to marry my second. But of course she was thinking of him. Hell, I’d been trying to think of anything other than Eddie myself, never mind what had transpired between the two of us on Thursday night. I hadn’t even told Ginny anything about my last-minute almost-fling and any of the wedding-day-doubts that accompanied it but she was able to figure me out regardless:
I wasn’t in love with Beau.
She and I both knew it. Hell, Beau knew it, and yet he still wanted to marry me. He told me repeatedly that even though I’d never love him the way I loved Eddie, he was okay with it. He just wanted me any way he could have me. I truly adored his devotion, and found his persistence quite admirable. Truth is, I was lucky to know him, and I’d accepted his proposal because he was a good man. I made the decision to become his wife… and I was going to carry through with it.
My sigh was followed by a tight smile. “It’s not the same, no. But honestly, this is what I want. Beau is very, very good to me. I’m going to be okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. This is the next logical step in my life. Beau’s been very patient. It’s time.”
“Okay. I just needed to know for sure.” The air immediately lightened with my best friend’s newfound resolve. She fluffed my enormous sleeves and adjusted my veil, offering me a satisfied smile as she did so. “Well, in any case, you look incredible.”
