“Why didn’t you tell me?” The words were tempered.
She put her hand to her throat. Did he hate her now? Despise her for being a liar by omission?
“That I’m married?” she choked out.
“I already knew that,” he said with a dismissive swipe of his hand. “A single woman says she’s single.”
“Oh.” All her efforts to hedge about her marital status had been for naught. How silly she must have seemed to him.
He moved closer, seeming to loom over her. “About Bev. Why didn’t you tell me? Didn’t you think I would care that she’s having trouble with Todd?”
“I-I didn’t want to.”
His expression grew colder. “I despise secrets. Lying by omission is still lying.”
Her hand went to her face to shield her unhappy reaction. “Not telling you about Bev is a deal-breaker?” she asked.
“I’m realizing it’s just the tip of the iceberg. What else haven’t you told me?”
His voice was cold, demanding, harsh. Was he waiting for her to confess everything? She couldn’t, not with Bev in the next room. Maybe never.
“We’ve hardly known each other long enough for me to tell you the story of my life in excruciating detail,” she said, with an attempt at dignity. “I have other secrets”
His expression closed up. “All right. If that’s the way you want it.”
She couldn’t talk about any of it. Not here. Not now, with Bev nearby. She looked at him bleakly. “If my not wanting to tell you every single thing about me is a problem for you, then we should say goodbye now.”
“Maybe it would be best,” he finally said. “I don’t want to go down the secrets path again. Ever.”
“I’m sorry. I have baggage,” she said. “I can’t pretend I don’t. You should find a nice young woman whose life is a clean slate.”
His eyes smoldered with emotion. “I thought you were different.”
That stung her into explaining. “I didn’t tell you about Bev because she showed up here uninvited and I’m stuck with her and not happy about it.”
“You kept a secret.”
“I think you’re overreacting. What is this really about?”
“I hate secrets,” he repeated. He held her by the shoulders, looking into her eyes as if he wanted to see inside her brain. She pulled away.
He said, “Come back out soon.” It was a command, not a request. She was not to hide in her bedroom. He turned and left.
She sank onto the bed, dismayed. Michael was showing a sterner side than she had seen before, out of loyalty to Bev and something else. The loyalty wasn’t surprising, but his sensitivity to secrets was. Obviously it was a hot button topic for him. Susan might never know why. It sounded as if their romantic relationship was over.
Bev had engineered this revelation on purpose. Bev deliberately tried to make others unhappy. She’d succeeded. Oh, this was intolerable.
Yet the fault was her own, for not being truthful and telling Michael that Bev was staying there. Luckily, Bev’s revelation about her marital status had not surprised him, too.
Of course he had guessed. She was a simpleton not to realize he would. What single woman would hesitate to leap into a relationship with a handsome, cultured, eligible, self-supporting, straight man who wanted her? The list of secrets she still kept caused her indecision. Including the secret involving Bev.
All right. She wasn’t afraid of Bev. Or of Michael. If their relationship ended tonight because of Bev’s interference—and her own lies of omission—so be it. What they had wasn’t worth much if one spiteful woman and some bad timing could destroy it.
She returned to the living room, stopping only briefly on her way to the kitchen. “I’m going to have something to drink. Would anybody like anything?”
Michael and Bev, who had been in low conversation, broke it off. “A soda if you have one,” he said.
“Cream soda,” Bev said.
She prepared their drinks, then returned with everything on a tray and a simple snack of cheese and crackers. She put it on the coffee table, but chose a chair from the bistro table for herself. She turned it around to face them, but kept her distance. As for a drink, she was sticking to ice water. Exactly what was flowing in her veins right now. She was cold to the core with fear about what would happen next between her and Michael.
“Sue, I was telling Mikey about your daughter being twenty-four years old and finally married. You’re likely to be a grandmother soon.” Bev knew she detested the nickname Sue. Bev was deliberately underlining the age difference between Susan and Michael. Plus intimating that Nancy had been almost an old maid when she married. Only Bev could manage that much damage so efficiently.
Susan fought not to rise to the bait. “I’m looking forward to it,” she said in a mild tone, and sipped her water.
Bev wouldn’t leave it alone. “You must be tired out from being a tourist all day at your age. Would you mind if Mikey and I went out to dinner to talk about when we were in high school?”
Susan turned to Michael. She couldn’t interpret his expression. She probably deserved his contempt.
“Of course, go ahead. Got to rest these old bones,” she said, with irony intended. Michael’s reaction to her words was impossible to interpret. He knew how to keep a poker face. He did look at her measuringly. Then he nodded, as if he had made up his mind.
Within a few minutes, her unwanted roommate had left with the man who professed to want Susan desperately. How crazy was that? Would Bev try to seduce Michael? Was she that malicious? Was he angry enough to let her? Or was this was simply Bev’s power play? Bev was within her rights, sort of. Michael was her childhood friend. They probably did have catching up to do.
Susan had lied to both of them. She had given Michael a reason to walk away. But if Bev intended something more serious with Michael, then they couldn’t share the apartment any longer.
Why hadn’t she spoken up? She could have objected. She could have stopped Michael from going off with Bev. Why wasn’t she willing to fight for him?
Because she had no right to a relationship with Michael. She could manage to fool herself when they were alone together because the sexual chemistry between them blindsided her with its potency. Until she decided what she was doing about her marriage, she couldn’t even pretend to any moral high ground.
The scene had put her off eating a dinner, but she forced herself to at least cover the basics. Skipping meals led to a sense of food entitlement, and she didn’t want to go there. Then she took herself to the courtyard. It usually felt lovely and fresh and protected from the city streets. Tonight, she envied the sounds of other people living their lives.
In a way tonight was another test for her. She thought she was over Kyle’s death, over her sick reaction to it, anyway. She thought she was strong again. Was she? Could she handle any disappointments, even so mild a situation as Michael choosing to spend the evening with his longtime friend rather than with her? The scene with Michael had upset her. It wasn’t surprising that she would be feeling vulnerable. She had to put her past troubles in perspective. Yes, there was a tear now and then when she talked or thought about Kyle. That was normal. She needed to be normal, especially if she chose to stay with Rick. She had to think about Rick. Tonight, it was easier to think about him than about Michael.
A couple hours later, she was in her bedroom sorting newly washed laundry when she heard Bev return, alone. She did not call out a welcome home, but Bev evidently wanted to rub it in. She sauntered to Susan’s room and leaned on the door frame.
“Hi, I’m back.”
“So I see.” She didn’t look up from her sorting.
“Mikey and I had a wonderful time,” Bev said in an exaggerated manner.
“That’s nice.”
“Too bad he’s never going to want to see you again. He hates liars,” Bev sneered.
“Good for him.”
Her lack of response only spurred Bev on. She continued in a smug, self-righte
ous tone of voice, “I had to tell him. He’s my oldest friend and I had to protect him. You’re a married woman. You were being unfaithful to your husband.”
She looked Bev in the eye at last, and then said deliberately, “I guess you’d know a lot about that, wouldn’t you?”
Bev’s eyes narrowed.
Susan stood up and moved toward her. “Goodnight.” She gently closed the door in Bev’s face.
Then she put in her earplugs—Nancy’s gag gift in case her mother couldn’t sleep because of city noise—turned off her cell phone, and went to bed.
***
The next morning was Saturday, and Susan decided to stay out all day. She would visit the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island. She carried her cell phone with her, in case Michael should call. On her way out, she stopped by Rona’s apartment on her way out. Rona wasn’t there, so Susan left her a note. She hoped Rona was working things out with Edward. Today her own primary concerns were to get far away from Bev and decide what she wanted from Michael or any other man not her lawfully wedded husband. And hope Michael would call her.
They said a woman with an empty nest first took stock of her life so far. Then she set a course for a new life. She had done that after Kyle’s death, but she'd messed up royally. A year later she’d had to do it again. After the traumatic events at Nancy’s wedding, she had taken stock a third time. Losing a hundred pounds wasn’t exactly a piece of cake. Great simile. It had required more self-examination, plus an acre of personal grit to take that weight off.
All she had done for the last several years was repeatedly take stock and set new courses for her future. Every time she thought she knew where her future lay, life dealt her a new curve.
A future in publishing was a fantasy she could put to rest for good. She wasn’t emotionally suited to the work nor had she found any fellow feeling with the other employees, except for Elizabeth Winsor. If Michael was right about the data Susan had collected, she also had uncovered proof of embezzlement. If she blew the whistle, regardless of who was guilty, she’d become a pariah at Coquette. Not much different from what she was now, actually. The publishing company wasn’t a good fit for her.
She could return to her occasional freelance computer work. Maybe she should become a secret computer fraud investigator and work for a detective agency or an auditor. That sounded dramatic and useful. There was no pressing urgency for her to find a new career immediately. She and Rick were well fixed financially. His engineering career had been highly remunerated, and they had lived carefully and saved. The house was paid for. She had her own healthy retirement account. Despite years of medical bills, everything had been paid off, even the mental hospital, ironically with Kyle’s now never-to-be-needed college fund. Rona had insisted on underwriting Nancy’s entire college education. No, money was not an issue. Susan could buy temporary furniture for this apartment and a few more without any consequences.
There were many years ahead in which to find and launch a second act. Or, technically, if one counted motherhood, a third act. Something would eventually turn up. There was only this one summer to decide about Rick. Michael had already walked away, perhaps.
Rick deserved a devoted wife by his side. Was she ready to be that wife again? Was she strong enough now to take the good with the bad, and spend the rest of her life with this man who knew the worst about her, and about whom she also knew the worst? She cared for him deeply. Did it matter if she was not in love with him anymore?
As for Michael, a fairy-tale romance with an attractive new man was a pleasant fantasy for a middle-aged woman. Rick had given her permission to act it out, a permission that at the summer’s outset she’d had no intention of using. Meeting Michael, indulging in such wonderful times with him, had insidiously worked to change her mind. Perhaps the fantasy of a sexual rebirth was merely a distraction from the work of figuring out who Susan Bailey was now, and what the rest of her life should contain.
Her selfish desire to hold their budding relationship as a precious secret had perhaps poisoned it for him. Not to mention that Bev was actively working against her. Would Susan hear from Michael again? Did she want to? If she was honest, yes. Yes, she desperately wanted to be with Michael in the fullest sense. Did she have the courage to act on her desire?
Wasn’t it time to be sensible? She could outlive her husband. Most women did. Her correct and moral path, the path she ought to be taking, was not to get involved with a younger man. Instead, she should seek more and better relationships with other women, to support her during the long years ahead.
How ironic that this summer was showing her the limits of girlfriendship. Rona had been her best friend for many years. Despite all they had done for each other, they couldn’t help each other emotionally. No one who loved Susan had been able to get through to her during her breakdown after Kyle’s death. Later, it took a dire insult from a man she despised to enable her to lose the extra pounds she had hidden behind for decades. She was still working on the rest.
As for Rona, her heart had been broken all these years since her affair with Edward ended, and Susan couldn’t mend it for her. Rona was only now beginning to find herself again. If Edward hadn’t come back, she would still be surrounded with ever-growing piles of newspapers. If it turned out that they had no future together despite this amazing reunion, Rona could soon rebuild her piles and her strange zone of comfort. Susan could not help her. The statistics on hoarders were worse than those of dieters who lost weight and then regained it. They each had tough addictions to fight, and they had to fight them alone despite their deep, long-lasting friendship.
Rona had forced Susan and Bev into this unholy roommate situation. Maybe it was time for Susan to move into a hotel, although she didn’t want to yield the field, or to give her lovingly furnished apartment to selfish, nasty Bev. Bev, who liked to throw her cell phone at breakable, brand new decorations. Who wanted to keep Susan and Michael apart.
Battery Park, the Statue of Liberty, and the immigration buildings on Ellis Island all passed before her eyes without sparking any interest as she wrestled all day with how she should live her life in future. She managed to get down a spare lunch from a hot dog stand. By the time she was done with her forced tourism, it was nearly evening. Time to go home and face her life head on. She stretched out her day by taking a bus uptown instead of the much faster subway. Why not? She had no plans. Might as well sightsee all the way home. Michael had not called.
As she glumly walked the last blocks to Rona’s apartment building, she considered returning to Ohio that night. She didn’t have anything else to prove, did she? She could throw her essentials in a suitcase and call an airline. Or get a hotel room for the night, until she could arrange a flight tomorrow. She didn’t have to stay and endure any more of Bev’s company. The job at Coquette was simple enough for a temp, anyway. She could abandon it without remorse. She seriously doubted whether anyone at Coquette would care if she quit with no notice. Most wouldn’t know or care that she was gone. She’d be sorry not to expose the embezzler, but perhaps Michael was right and she should not interfere.
Although she hated being a quitter. She wasn’t ready to go home. She also didn’t want Bev to win. Bev was a troublemaker. Her revelations about Susan had struck a chord with Michael. He was far more upset than just keeping a secret warranted. The fact that he had not returned with Bev last night was proof.
***
Susan reentered her apartment hoping that she and Bev wouldn’t get into a fight, and found that Bev wasn’t in the mood to tangle, either. In fact, she went out of her way to make peace.
“Glad you’re back. Sorry about last night, but I had to let Mikey know the score.”
“I suppose that’s fair,” she allowed, not wanting to talk about it. As usual, Bev either said too little or too much. In this case, too much.
“I mean, you’re married. You’re only here for a couple of months. You could break his heart. I had to warn him. He’s my bro.”
&nb
sp; “Right. Well, good night,” Susan said, and vanished into her bedroom.
***
Sunday, she wandered Central Park, since all the museums were closed for Independence Day. She went to a concert. She walked and walked. In the evening, she ventured downtown to see the July 4th fireworks by herself and felt very alone indeed in the huge crowd. As the fireworks burst nearby and people screamed in excitement, Susan finally allowed herself to cry over what she had lost.
When she dragged herself home, she was already gathering her defenses again in preparation for the next confrontation with Bev. She found Michael sitting on the steps of her building.
The nearby streetlamp illuminated his unusual appearance. He was wearing worn blue jeans and a tight t-shirt that outlined his firm muscles. He’d lost his crisp, refined look. His hair was semi-wild, as if he hadn’t slept or had repeatedly dragged his fingers through it. His expression on catching sight of her seemed to be a combination of annoyance and relief. He stood, towering over her.
“You haven’t been answering your cell phone,” he said, his intonation flat.
She fought to control the instant trembling in her entire body. She shrugged. “There didn’t seem to be any point in having it on today. You never tried to contact me yesterday.”
“I had a lot to think about,” he said.
She stared at him, fighting back tears. “I assumed you never wanted to speak to me again.”
“I thought about it.” His expression was cold.
He moved down the three steps to stand in front of her on the sidewalk. He put his hands on his lean hips and stood there, eyeing her speculatively. She stared back, trying not to show all her feelings. Hurt and anger warred within her. Surely he knew why.
“You’re punishing me for going out with Bev Friday night,” he concluded.
He wasn’t cool, not cool at all. His remote facial expression was belied by the blood vessel throbbing on his forehead and by his clenched fists. Instead of frightening her, Michael’s obvious frustration calmed her. He was only human, like her.
Summer in the City Page 19
