Is This Tomorrow

by Caroline Leavitt

  In all, it took him only an hour and about half a dozen calls and then he had a new life spread before him in Iowa, of all places. The realtor was coming the next morning to put the house on the market. He didn’t even have to be there for it.

  He told himself it wasn’t just his fear of being blamed that was making him leave, his refusal to ever go back inside any sort of prison. It was that it would never work, the two of them, not with Jimmy hanging over them. He told himself it would be better for her, too, with him gone, that she’d be less of a target for the cops and the neighbors. It was what she wanted, to stay here, anyway. He had asked and she had answered.

  He just didn’t bank on his never being able to forget her.

  AVA STARED AT Jake. He put one hand over his mouth and then took it away. “That’s the whole story,” he said. He reached for Ava but she pulled away.

  “All this time and you left out the biggest part of the story,” she said.

  “I was wrong to have left you,” he said. “I can admit it.”

  He looked weathered, as if someone had rubbed at his outlines. It was the first time she noticed the downward pull to his mouth. His handsomeness had faded. He touched a curl of her hair, swinging it like a jump rope. “Aren’t you my girl?” he said.

  She was silent. The words bunched in her throat. “The criminal record,” she said carefully. “You were a kid and you paid for it. But, this, with Jimmy. You were an adult. You had choices.”

  “I didn’t hurt him, Ava. He was just scared. I lost my temper but then I stopped. And I made it up to him. I did the right thing afterward. The whole thing took five minutes and when I left, he was fine. He was happy.”

  “But you never told me.”

  “I grabbed Jimmy. I knew what that would look like, how easy it would be to pin something on me.”

  “You let me think your leaving was about something entirely different. You put yourself in a better light, like you hadn’t done anything wrong. It was really yourself you cared about. Not Jimmy. And certainly not me.”

  “What would you have thought if you knew I had grabbed Jimmy? It didn’t have a damn thing to do with his vanishing, but what would you have thought?”

  “Do you hear what you’re saying?”

  “You’re looking at this all wrong.”

  “It’s easy to be here, now that you’re safe.” She tried to think of all the times she had felt secure with him, the way she had felt riding behind him on the bike, like he had unpeeled the world for her, showing her the stars from Cambridge Common, hiring a boat so they could go out on the Charles, the wind whipping her hair like an eggbeater. “No,” she said.

  He frowned. “Ava,” he said.

  Ava got out of bed. She pulled her robe around her, watching him.

  “Ava, you love me. You know you do.”

  “I’ve stayed here all this time, but you didn’t even think to come back until they found the remains. And it wasn’t because you missed me, because if you had, nothing would have stopped you. It was because you figured you were off the hook and it was safe. You are still lying to me, don’t you see that? What other pieces of the truth are missing?”

  “Don’t do this,” he said. He stood up, and he tried to touch her, but she stepped away. “How can you deny what we have? I want to take care of you now.”

  “I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. And I think you should leave,” she told him. When he didn’t move, she bent and got his clothes, throwing them on the bed. “Now,” she said.

  He looked at her, incredulous, and then reluctantly starting pulling on his shirt, his pants. He shoved his feet into his shoes. “We’ll work this out,” he said.

  She walked out to the front of her house and opened the door, waiting, and when he left, she locked the door, leaning against it, and wept. She was so very tired.

  JAKE KEPT CALLING. The only reason Ava picked up the phone was because she was afraid it might be Lewis, reporting on his father. “We can put all this behind us,” Jake said.

  “Don’t call me,” she told him.

  She thought of how happy she had been. Well, she had seen what she wanted to see. He treated her like an equal. He had a steady job and a house. He actually gave her choices. Did she want to eat at a steak house or a fish place? Did she like when he touched her thigh or did she prefer he nibble the back of her neck? And there were those nights when he played his music, swaying with the notes, as if he had tapped into a whole other magical world she could only watch and envy. She couldn’t take her eyes off him, and yet, how badly had she been blinded? How had she missed the truth? Maybe subconsciously, she just hadn’t wanted to know.

  That Friday, he showed up at her office. Ava was in the back making Xerox copies. “A guy’s here for you,” Charmaine said. “And he looks like hell.” She put one hand on Ava’s shoulder. “Should I tell him to scram?”

  “I’ll go talk to him,” she said. She walked out and there he was, slumped by the elevator. She could feel the other women watching her.

  “Here we are again,” Jake said. He looked rumpled, like he had slept in his clothes, and there were bags under his eyes. “I have to go back to Iowa, but I want you to come with me.”

  Ava heard the ring of the other elevator. How was this different from the last time they broke up? In a way, it was worse because now she was the bigger fool. She saw Richard striding by, taking her in. She couldn’t get past this, couldn’t forgive or trust Jake again, but if she spoke, she was afraid she’d burst into tears. Instead, she just shook her head. She saw his face crumple, but she steeled herself. She walked away from him, past Charmaine and Betty, into the break room. She didn’t hear Jake’s footsteps or his voice. He wasn’t following her. Again.

  She fell into one of the chairs, shutting her eyes. She heard the door open and shut. She opened her eyes and there was Charmaine, who sat down beside her. She took Ava’s hand and held on to it. “Let him go, the jerk,” Charmaine told her and that’s when Ava began to cry.

  Charmaine took Ava to the ladies’ room and made Ava wash her face. She gave Ava some foundation to put under her eyes so no one would know she had cried, using a little triangle sponge she kept in her makeup bag. “My mom showed me this trick,” Charmaine told her, blotting a tissue with cold water on Ava’s skin. And when the two of them walked out of the bathroom, Charmaine tried to shield Ava from Richard. “Someone’s got his panties in a knot today,” Charmaine whispered.

  Ava sat back at her typewriter. She could feel the makeup caked on her face but she left it where it was. In front of her were more invoices than she could possibly handle in a week, let alone a day. She looked up and saw him at his desk, his feet up as usual, not working, just watching her, like he was the lord of the jungle. She felt herself closing, like a door slamming. She picked up a sheet and started to type.

  THAT NIGHT, AVA came back home, and all around her, families were carrying on their lives, and she was in her little house alone. She sifted through the mail, half hoping there might be a postcard from Lewis and Rose, though it was probably too soon for any mail to get here. Why was she always the one waiting? Why was her life full of maybes?

  Jake didn’t call that night or the next morning. She finally phoned him and a voice told her that the line was disconnected and there was no forwarding number. He had left. She had told him to and he had done it. So why was she surprised?

  She walked into Bell’s that evening with her pies, and as soon as Bell tasted one, she frowned and Ava knew she had ruined the bunch. “Come in the back with me,” Bell said, and then, when Ava started to cry and tell her about Jake, Bell took both her hands. “He doesn’t deserve someone like you,” Bell said. “I should have known he was a rotter, but he had me, just like he had you.”

  Ava wiped a hand over her eyes. “I’m such a fool,” she said. Her life used to be so full. She was busy with being a wife, being a mother, even a girlfriend. Now, look at her. She was alone. Brian, Jake, and Lewis—even
Jimmy—all the guys who had meant something to her, were now gone.

  Bell sat up straighter. “Actually, you’re not a fool,” Bell said. “But I am. I should have done this a while ago. I’m tired. This place is a lot of responsibility. It’s a headache and a half.”

  Ava stared at her. “Please don’t tell me you’re closing the café,” she said.

  Bell smiled. “I’m not,” she said. “I’m giving it to you to run. If I pay you to learn the ropes, will you manage my café?”

  Chapter Twenty

  Brian Lark pulled the car into the drive and bounded into the house to find his wife Glory sitting on the couch with a young man and woman he had never seen before. He had had a long day at the car lot and was tired, but he knew how to flip on the switch to be welcoming and pleasant. Brian thrust his hand out, nodding enthusiastically. The young man stood, but looked at Brian’s outstretched hand and frowned. “I’m Lewis,” he said.

  Brian cocked his head, disoriented. “Lewis?” He took a step closer. He saw the glasses of cold drinks already out on the coffee table. Glory was watching him carefully.

  Brian couldn’t stop looking at his grown son. He kept trying to find the things that were familiar about him: the shape of his nose, the deep muddy color of his hair, the way Lewis had gestured with his right hand, the same way he did when he was seven. This young man didn’t look anything like Brian and very little like the boy he remembered. He touched Lewis’s shoulder, almost as if he expected to get a shock. “Are you okay? Did something happen? Is your mother okay?” Brian asked.

  “We’re both fine,” Lewis said, but he wasn’t meeting Brian’s eyes. “I just wanted to see you after all this time.”

  “Well, I’m glad,” Brian said. He felt his voice go boisterous, the way it did when he was trying to close a deal at the lot. He saw the girl exchange a look with Lewis. “I’m Rose,” she said, standing up and offering her hand.

  He was used to picking up hesitation, the clip of fear people felt before purchasing a car that might be too expensive for them. He knew a smile could work wonders and he brightened his. “Sit, sit,” Brian said. “Take a load off. We have so much to talk about.” But when Lewis and Rose sat down, Brian felt suddenly tongue-tied. There was so much he wanted to know. “Tell me where you live,” he finally said. “What you’re doing now.” He leaned forward, listening as Lewis told him about living in Madison and being a nurse’s aide.

  “You work in a hospital?” Brian thought of his father, a surgeon, who had wanted Brian to go into medicine and had told him working at a car lot was low-class. When his father had died, he had left Brian only bad memories and a gold watch that Brian promptly pawned.

  “He has your eyes,” Glory said encouragingly.

  “So you’re doing well,” Brian said. He knew he had been a crappy father, but looking at Lewis now, he felt relieved. His son had what sounded like a good job and a pretty girl at his side. He had turned out okay, and maybe that had nothing to do with Brian, but what did that matter now that they were here together?

  “I’ve heard so much about you,” Glory said and Brian looked at her, surprised, because outside of one conversation he had with Glory when they had first met, when they were spilling their lives out to each other, he had never wanted to discuss his past.

  He saw the girl gently jostle Lewis.

  “All right,” Lewis said to her. Then he turned to Brian.

  “Can I ask you something? Will you tell me the truth?” Lewis asked.

  Brian looked at the drinks on the table. “No alcohol in there,” Glory said quietly, and Brian picked one up and sipped. Ginger ale sparkled in his throat, but he still felt parched. He swallowed. “Ask anything.”

  “Tell me why you left us,” Lewis said.

  There it was. Right in front of him.

  Brian put his drink down. He saw the watery ring it made on the mahogany table, and he bet Glory did, too, but she didn’t move to get a napkin or one of their World’s Fair coasters to put under the glass. She just sat there, the way Lewis and Rose were, waiting. “Does it matter now?” Brian asked finally. “You’re here now, I’m here. We’re both adults.”

  All the sounds in the room boomed in his head. The ticking of the clock, the steady breathing of Glory beside him. Lewis was looking at him as if he understood nothing. “You never called or visited. And then you stopped trying to get custody of me. I found the letter in Mom’s stuff. Why did you disappear from my life?” Lewis asked. “What happened? Was it because of me, because of something I did? I just want—I need—to know.”

  “Lewis, no—” Brian said. “You were my son. I loved you.”

  “Then why didn’t you ever come back for me?”

  “What are you talking about?” Brian said. “I did come back.”

  BRIAN HAD COME back to Waltham a week after his own father died, about ten years ago. He was drunk that day, the way he was most days then, but he could still drive. Grieving for his father, for all that might have been, had made him suddenly want to see his own son, and the more he thought of Ava and her men, the more he felt his blood boiling. He had to see for himself what was going on.

  And he missed her, too. He hadn’t met Glory yet and he was tired of being alone. He was beginning to wonder if he had made a big mistake leaving his family.

  As soon as he got out of Cleveland, he had another beer and felt better. God, but he hated Cleveland. He had left Waltham and his family to be with this new woman, Becky, but it didn’t take long for that to sour and for her to start looking at him like he was something she’d stepped in. He didn’t know which he hated more, her or his job at her father’s paper company, but both of them made him drink.

  When he had arrived in Ava’s neighborhood, he had wanted to leave. He had promised Ava the suburbs, but he’d never been able to deliver, and here she was, getting it for herself without him. He parked and looked at the house numbers, looking for Ava’s. He looked longingly at the six-pack of beer in the backseat. If he drained one, he’d feel better, but then she’d smell it on his breath. She might not even let him in the house. He suddenly felt sick with nerves. Would Ava even be at home? He glanced at his watch. Quarter to five. Didn’t she tell him she worked part-time? But then again, there was a lot she hadn’t been telling him these days. Maybe there was some man. Maybe he had already taken Brian’s place with Lewis.

  Don’t think like that, he told himself. The thing to do was look ahead. Number 120. There was her house. A small bright blue ranch on the corner, with dried-out looking grass, but she had planted yellow flowers by the walkway, like small, bobbing suns. He parked the car and walked around to the side of the house, peering in the windows. He saw the wood table in the dining room, covered with a rose-colored cloth. He could see a bit of her kitchen, all yellow and sunny. When he walked to the back, he saw the laundry on the clothesline. A red dress. A blue skirt. A pair of boy’s dungarees. He walked over and took Ava’s skirt in his hands. He pressed it to his face, shutting his eyes. Lemon detergent and fresh air. For a moment, he wavered on his feet. There had been times that he had loved her so much he had thought that he was going mad. He walked back around to the front of the house, practicing what he would say. Hi, this is a surprise. Hi, I missed you. Hi, I’m sorry. Hi, please forgive me.

  He reached the front porch just as the front door opened. There, shining in front of him, was his son.

  “Hi,” he said and Lewis faltered.

  Lewis stood on the top porch step, looking down at Brian so that Brian had to crane his neck to see him. “You know who I am, don’t you, son?” Brian said. He hadn’t seen Lewis since he was seven or so, but the kid still should still remember his own father.

  Lewis didn’t move. “Is your mom around?” His throat was so dry he could hardly speak. “What time does she get home? She must be working, right?”

  Lewis kept watching him. “Come on, then,” Brian said. “We’ll figure it out later. My car’s right over there,” he said. “L
et’s go for a drive.” He thought maybe he and Lewis could get an ice cream or something and be back before Ava got home. “Maybe I’ll even let you drive.” He was kidding, but he kept thinking how much easier it would be to charm Ava if he had already won Lewis over. Brian was beginning to feel dizzy from the sun and from the drink. He could feel himself sweating and he didn’t like the way Lewis was looking at him. He walked up the porch steps and reached for his son, opening his arms for a hug.

  “Don’t touch me!” Lewis said, stepping back.

  “I understand you’re mad,” he said. “I’d be mad, too—”

  “Get away from me!”

  “You don’t talk that way to me,” Brian said, his patience thinning. “I come all the way here to see you and this is the way you treat me?” It was too hot for this. He wanted iced coffee, a cigarette, a nice cold beer. “Get in the car,” he snapped, and he reached for Lewis’s arm, but Lewis jerked away. “What’s the matter with you?” Brian said. “Get in the car!” he scolded, grabbing Lewis again, this time getting a hand on his son’s arm, tightening his grip. “Let me go!” Lewis said, and when Brian ignored him and started dragging him down the porch steps, Lewis twisted around and bit Brian’s hand. The shock of the pain made Brian release his son. “What the hell!” Brian said, rubbing his palm. A line of red teeth marks braceleted his skin. “You little devil!” he said, but Lewis was running wide around him into the street. “Hey!’ Brian shouted. “Hey! Don’t you run away from me! Get back here!”

  Brian ran, too. He hadn’t run like this since he was a boy himself. Already he felt how his extra pounds slowed him, and his legs weren’t the pistons they used to be. The wind sang in his ears. His son! He was running after his own son! He was a quarter of the way down the block when his knees buckled and his breath stitched up. He was too drunk to run anymore. He shut his eyes and the world swam and when he opened them, Lewis was gone. Brian bent over, bracing both hands on his knees, his shoulders shaking. “You come back here!” he cried, panting, but the street was empty, and all he heard was the endless whine of mosquitoes.