by Erin Duffy
“You were a little terrifying at dinner.”
“I was a lot terrifying at dinner. I know that.”
“I’m not the kind of guy who just disappears after a date and doesn’t let someone know where I stand with her. Even after one date, you still deserve a phone call.”
“Thanks,” I said, and realized that this was even worse than I’d originally thought because Fred actually seemed like a nice guy, and I’d just ruined any chance of seeing him again.
“I’ve never seen anything like that before in my life. But the truth is, up until then I was having a nice night. I thought we were hitting it off. Then you went crazy, and now I don’t know what to think.”
“I was having fun, too. I really was. Fred, I’m so sorry for making a scene, and for embarrassing you, and for terrifying you at dinner. Believe me when I tell you that I’m not proud of what I did at all. I swear, I’m not usually like that. That was the first time that I’ve actually seen Owen and Dee Dee in public together. I snapped. There’s no explanation for me to give other than to say that I just snapped.”
“I take it Owen is your ex-husband and Dee Dee is his down-trade?”
“Yup.”
“That must’ve been pretty awful for you.”
“Worse than I expected.”
“I get it. Can I ask you a question?”
“There’s no restraining order, at least not that I’m aware of.”
“No, not that. Do you regret it?”
“Cutting his hair?”
“All of it. Telling her what you thought. Cutting his hair. Finally having the opportunity to get some of what you’ve been thinking for however many months off your chest. Did it make you feel any better? I’d like to know.”
I hesitated, and thought again about the events from a week ago: the ice bucket, the purple bra, the way they sat so close to each other even though there was plenty of room in the horseshoe-shaped booth. I thought about the look on his face when he talked to her, and how it wasn’t a look that I’d ever seen before, and I thought about the look on her face when she talked to him, and how it was the same look she had the day I met her, the same day she and Owen reconnected. I thought about the way she touched his hair and leaned in to him as if he’d always really belonged to her, and that our relationship, our marriage was really just the intermission in their adorable, enduring love story. I thought about all of it. Then, I answered honestly.
“It felt amazing,” I admitted. “I shouldn’t have done it, but I’d do it again. If that makes any sense,” I said, realizing that it probably didn’t.
“That’s what I thought.” He laughed. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Claire. That’s for sure. And I don’t know if that’s a reason for me to hang up this phone and never call you again, or a reason to try and go out one more time.”
“You’d be willing to go out again?” I asked. This was unreal. Was it possible that Fred wasn’t a porn-loving, safe-word-using freak? Could he just be a really nice guy who’d been through enough of his own drama to know not to judge others when they became wrapped up in their own? Could it really be that simple? I was willing to consider it, but I still wouldn’t ever step foot in his basement.
“I’m confused. I’ve never felt like this before. I don’t want to get involved with someone who can be dangerous, or crazy, or both. But I really did enjoy the time we spent together, and I’m not convinced yet that you really are dangerous or crazy. Part of me thinks what you did was hysterical. To be honest, I’m not sure what to do.”
“I don’t blame you. I can’t even believe you called me. I never would’ve thought you’d want to see me again. All I can tell you is that that night was the culmination of a lot of things, and that I know it’s time to let it go. It won’t happen again. I’m new to this divorce thing and I’m clearly still trying to figure out how to handle it all.”
“It’s hard to be on the losing end of a marriage. You’re entitled to blow off a little steam, but that was taking it to another level. Like I said, I’ve never seen anything like it, and I’d thought I’d seen a lot.”
“And you never will again. You’re a really good guy for being so understanding. I don’t think a lot of men would be that way.”
“I might be out of my mind, but I think I might actually like to see you again, if you think you’re up for it. If you’re not, that’s fine, but please tell me so that I don’t need to worry about something like that ever happening again.”
“I’d like that, too,” I said. I meant it. “I’m up for it. I promise.”
“I’m busy with work for the next few nights, but how would you feel about doing lunch or something next weekend? Would that work?”
“I think that would work. Bo is supposed to be with his dad on Saturday so I won’t have to worry about running into Owen. It sounds perfect.”
“Great. We’ll go somewhere far away. Maybe we can drive to Maryland or something. Do you have any exes there?”
“None.”
“Good to know. If no other place in the entire state of Connecticut is safe, we can go to Maryland.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“One sign of crazy, though, and I’m done. I’m going to overlook your episode because everyone is entitled to a bad night. One bad night. Not two.”
“I hear you. And I agree,” I said, but it kind of bugged me. I didn’t like being made to feel like I had to be on my best behavior in order to be worthy of his company. I knew that my behavior was crazy, but he didn’t have to keep telling me that. Even lunatics have feelings. “Thanks again for calling, Fred,” I said. Just like Fred, I decided to ignore the transgression and let him insult me while simultaneously asking me out again. Once. And only once.
“Thanks for calling me back. I’ll talk to you soon, Claire. Have a good one.”
I quickly hung up, and placed my phone on the table next to my mug. I was too old to be playing games—that much was true. But, that didn’t mean that I had to let him hang up first. “He wants to see me again,” I said to an understandably surprised Antonia and Lissy. “Maybe I shouldn’t go. I should just chalk that date up to a learning experience and move on. What kind of future could I possibly have with someone who knows that I’m capable of assault?”
“You need to go,” Lissy said. “Any man who’s going to witness a complete meltdown and come back for more is one that you need to get to know better. Actually, he sounds like someone I’d like to get to know better, too. Plus, if you guys get married, I can sell you all of your stationery. We have lots of New York City–themed stationery that could subtly reference you guys getting together in a bar in Grand Central Terminal—in the middle of the afternoon—on a Monday. Talk about a niche.”
“Very funny.”
“I’ll give you a discount.”
“That’s no way to get yourself out of the red.”
“This should be simple,” Antonia said. “Why are you making this a big deal? Just go out with him again and leave the scissors at home. Do you want to see him again?”
I thought about this for a minute. It wasn’t an easy question to answer. If I went out with him again I was going to owe him further explanation. It was so embarrassing that it might actually have been better to just pretend that I never got the voicemail. Except, then I didn’t get to go on a date with Fred, and Owen was going on lots of dates with Dee Dee, and why shouldn’t I level the playing field? It was a totally bizarre motivation for wanting to go on a date with someone, but it was the only thing I cared about. If Owen was dating, then so was I.
“Okay. I’ll go,” I said. “But he needs to stop calling me crazy. I know in this particular phone call I couldn’t defend myself, but if he thinks he’s going to be able to insult me like that on a regular basis, this will never work.”
“I think under the circumstances it was okay,” Lissy said. “If he didn’t call you crazy I’d think he was the weird one.”
“Claire, have some self-awareness. You’
ve been a little off your rocker,” Antonia said.
“I admit I did some things I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have posted that note on his Facebook page. People who we haven’t seen in years and never would’ve known anything had happened started poking around for details. It was a terrible idea. I regret that one big-time.”
“And the Craigslist ad?”
“That was funny. But I probably regret that, too. I’m done cyberstalking him,” I said. I might have meant it. “From now on I’m only going to use the internet for good, not for evil.”
“That’s progress. Keep that in mind when you see Fred again.”
“I don’t get a weird vibe from him,” I admitted. “I really don’t.”
“So go!” Antonia encouraged. “I think this guy sounds like a really good dude. Do you have any idea how easy it would’ve been for him to run? I’m your best friend, and part of me is a little scared of you now. I like this guy. I want to meet him.”
“Why don’t you come to lunch with us? So far being completely unconventional is working for me. Maybe I should bring both of you with us.”
“I don’t do lunch. It’s prissy and the lighting is terrible. No candles. Big windows. Cheery waitresses and breadbaskets with mini-muffins. No thanks,” Lissy said. “Call me when they dim the lights and break out the hard liquor.”
“Are you part vampire or something?” Antonia asked.
“I wish,” Lissy answered. I took the wine Antonia poured for me out to the front porch, and sat down on the top step, staring at the glowing lights in the windows of the houses down the block. I imagined that most of the kitchens were bustling with activity, kids doing homework, men coming home from their evening commutes, kicking off their dress shoes, and pecking their wives on the head before they sat down for dinner. There were probably pot roasts, and chickens, and casseroles in the ovens and bulletin boards hanging on the walls next to the refrigerators that listed chores each child was supposed to complete that week in order to claim an allowance. These families had won the lottery—the American dream on a nice quiet street in Connecticut, with a good school district, and playgrounds that were clean, and safe, and free of drug dealers and prostitutes, and porches with swings. Why those houses contained happy families and mine was sad, and empty, I had no idea. I didn’t know why they got to live the life I was supposed to have, and I got pushed out onto the curb. I glanced up at the sky, the stars bright, and plentiful, and winking at me like they were in on a secret.
Antonia sat down beside me with her stemless wineglass and tugged at the back of her shirt as it stuck to her neck. The midsummer heat was settling it. It was already the middle of June. Despite the fact that the days often felt endless, I couldn’t believe how fast time was going by. “What’s wrong?”
My shoulders slumped forward. “Every time I try and do something to help myself I feel like I get knocked down all over again.”
“What do you mean?”
“I go to the library, and I run into Dee Dee’s friends. I try to move so I can get a fresh start here, and Owen says no. I go on a date, and I run into Owen and Dee Dee. I keep pulling myself up and I keep getting knocked over and I’m so tired, Antonia. I’m so tired of trying. I just need something to go my way. I need to know something is going to work out for me and I swear to God there are some days when I honestly feel like I’m never going to be happy again. Do you have any idea what that feels like?” Of course she didn’t. She was beautiful, and employed, and didn’t need Spanx to leave the house and those are three of the main ingredients to happiness as far as I’m concerned, so she had no idea what I was going through.
“Fred just called and asked you out again. That went your way,” Antonia whispered.
“Did it? What am I even doing with him? Am I ready to be dating?”
“Who’s ever ready? It’s going to get easier. Just remind yourself that it will never get worse than it is right now.”
“I don’t think that makes me feel better.”
“It should. No place to go but up.”
“I guess.”
“Come on.” She offered her hand and gently pulled me up from the step, brushing invisible dirt off my leg. Before I closed the front door behind me, I tilted my head toward the stars, just so they knew I was aware of their winking, and that I didn’t like it one bit.
Chapter 13
I WAS ABOUT to enter Lissy’s store the following Saturday morning when my phone beeped. I stopped and pulled it out of the pocket of my tote, and involuntarily smiled when I saw that it was Fred.
So this is me, texting. It feels weird. Did we decide if we need to go to Maryland or not? What time works for you?
I sent him a quick note back: I’m very proud of you. I was going to help a friend of mine at her store this morning. Want to meet me at The Stationer on Main Street around 1?
I couldn’t imagine how people communicated before text messaging, which was kind of a silly thing for me to say since I fully remembered life before text messaging, and cell phones, and call waiting for that matter, but I still couldn’t fathom trying to maintain any kind of romantic relationship without the ability to screen, delay, and craft perfectly worded responses to such deeply personal and intense questions as “What time works for you?” It was a small thing, but I couldn’t help but be flattered by Fred’s gesture in not calling. I wasn’t sure what that said about me.
Sounds good. See you at 1. I’m bringing a metal detector. Consider yourself warned.
I sent him back a smiley face emoji.
Please don’t ever do that again.
I laughed. That was much easier than I thought it would be.
The bell chimed when I entered the store around 11:00, but there was no sign of Lissy. She’d cleared off the shelves, all of the merchandise now stored in large brown boxes she bought from the UPS Store. I stepped over one box, losing my footing briefly and stumbling into one of the empty racks. I removed a plastic bag of Clorox wipes from my bag, convinced that once we had swabbed all the shelves clean, the smell of must, calligraphy ink, and yellowed paper would dissipate.
“Hey,” she said when she came down the stairs. “I heard the bell. You’re early.”
“Just a little. I have two fun things for you.”
“Really? Let’s hear them,” she said.
“I spent all of last night trying to find a good canopy for the store once it’s no longer called The Stationer. Without a name, it’s kind of hard to pick something, so I decided that maybe something simple was best. After careful consideration, what do you think of this one?” I asked, as I handed Lissy my phone to check out the one I’d picked.
“Plain white? You think that’s the best we can do?”
“That’s the best we can do since we don’t know what we’re naming the place yet. This way we have an idea of what we want, and we know where we want to order it from, and how much it will cost us. When we name the store we can spice it up with the color of the lettering. I think this is our safest bet. We need to make some decisions or we won’t ever get this place put back together in time.”
“I like it. It’s classy. We really need to come up with a name, though, and soon. It’s hard doing all of this work when I don’t even know what we’re calling this place.”
“I know. It will come to us. Don’t worry, I think about it all the time. It’s only a matter of time before inspiration hits,” I said, even though I hadn’t been hit by inspiration once in the last ten to twelve years as far as I could remember.
“Okay. What’s the second thing?”
“Secondly, guess who is going to meet me here this afternoon?”
“Fred is coming?” Lissy asked. “He’s picking you up for your date here? I’m going to meet him?”
“How’d you know it was Fred?” I was marginally disappointed. I was actually hoping she wouldn’t guess. At least not on the first try.
“You don’t have any other friends. I already know Antonia.”
“That’s true.” I nodded, and thought briefly about whether or not there was anyone else in town I could at least call an acquaintance if not a friend. There wasn’t.
“I’m so happy I’m going to meet this dude. Do I look okay?” she asked.
“You look great, but he’s not coming here to hit on you.”
“Good point. First impressions are important, though. You look great,” she said. “Those pants are awesome.”
“Thank you!” I felt good and it was nice to know that I looked good, because I was looking forward to this date.
“Now, let’s get this place cleaned up.”
I went behind the register and began to neatly stack files, before taking them upstairs to Lissy’s black hole of an office. The first thing I needed to do was get rid of the paperwork and scan everything electronically. Multicolored folders were strewn haphazardly on the bookshelf next to piles of papers that didn’t seem to be in any order whatsoever, and as far as I could tell, there was no functional way to keep track of pending orders or receipts. She didn’t have samples of her amazing calligraphy—a huge mistake—so I was going to suggest that she create samples of her different styles that we could scan and send out on an electronic newsletter. Once I was done organizing this office space, I had to figure out what we were going to put in the electronic newsletter, how often we were going to send it, and how we were going to get the email addresses of every woman in town. Considering the amount of spam I got from vendors all over the place, it shouldn’t be too hard to purchase a mailing list from one of the other store owners, but people could be weird about things, so I didn’t want to count on it. Lately, I went to bed thinking about stationery (or Fred), woke up thinking about stationery (or Fred), and dreamed about fonts, ink colors, and envelope liners (or Fred) during the day. It was actually a pretty great way to go to sleep and wake up—it meant I wasn’t thinking about Owen or Dee Dee, and that I had more important things on my mind. I continued to clean, and organize, and file, and stack, because it made me feel good, and because I wanted to stay busy until my date, and because Lissy wanted to make sure that the place looked good for Fred.
