“Are you okay, hunny?”
“I’m doing okay, Dr. Maria. Despite it all, I’m doing okay. Tell me, how’s that woman doing? You know, the one whose family died in the Loma Prieta earthquake?”
“As long as she keeps coming here, she has a chance.”
“Looks like she’s hanging in there, she’s always in the lobby whenever I’m here.”
“Yep, definitely have to give her credit for sticking with it.”
Dr. Maria realized her slip-up the second she made it and rolls her wide eyes up at me over the rim of her glasses.
“Wow, you’re one clever woman, Chrissy Anderson. I could get in a lot of trouble for exposing her identity.”
Laughing hard, “Considering how many secrets you have on me, it’s only fair I should have one on you!”
Throwing pillows from the couch at me, she says, “I take that back…you’re not clever, you’re manipulative!”
“I know. It’s about time I start getting credit for it!”
Freedom
December, 2000
The last four months have been the fastest of my life. Between the two yoga studios and the clothing line, I barely have time to breathe, and I can’t tell you how much I love being out of breath. Making things happen is so much better than waiting for things to happen. Waiting for love to happen, for death to happen, for divorce to happen…it’s all so damn exhausting.
“Ahem, Chrissy…Kurt’s here to see you.”
“Very funny.”
Not really believing Megan, I continue to sift through thermal fabric swatches for the hoodie sweatshirt she’s working on.
“No, really, he just walked through the door. Wow, he really is good looking.”
I look up and see Kurt walking towards me with a dozen red roses.
“Well, hello there, stranger, little late to try and win me over don’t you think?”
I lean in to give him a kiss on the cheek, and he whispers ,”It’s final,” in my ear.
“What’s final?”
“The divorce. I got the paperwork last week. I know how busy you’ve been with all of this, assumed you haven’t been opening your mail at home. I thought I’d drive over and tell you the news myself.”
I had months…years even, to prepare myself for this moment. I’m confused that I feel so…confused.
“Oh…I thought we had until December.”
“It is December.”
“Wow, I guess you’re right. So, we’re not married anymore?”
“Nope.”
“I’m not Chrissy Gibbons anymore?”
“I don’t think you ever were.”
“Ouch.”
“I’m not here to hurt your feelings. Just wanted to give you these, they’re called freedom roses.”
“I bet there aren’t many girls out there who get a dozen red roses from their husband when their divorce is final.”
“Not a dozen, fourteen. One for every year we were together.”
I hear Slutty Co-worker say to Megan, “What is this…a divorce or a first date?”
I glare at the two of them as I grab Kurt’s hand. “The evening meditation class just finished, let’s go inside the studio for some privacy.”
The studio is still lit by candles and the music is softly humming in the background. Kinda does feel like a first date.
“Let’s dance.”
“You’re not gonna make me cry, are you, Kurt?”
“Isn’t that what I do best?”
Laughing, we slide together just like we did on the night we met at his high school graduation party in 1986. Who knew it would take me this long to grow up.
“Dr. Maria told me I could find you here.” I pull away.
“You went to see Dr. Maria?”
“Not to talk about me, believe it or not, I’m okay with who I am. I wanted to ask her if you were okay…if you were finally happy.”
“What did she say?”
“She told me to come and ask you myself.”
“Sounds like something she’d say. Kurt, I…”
“You don’t need to say anything about what happened any more. You were right about us not being a good fit.”
I pull away in shock.
“You really think that?”
“Yeah. I always thought I was the strong one, the one who knew better for the both of us, but I was wrong. You saw what I didn’t have the courage to see. For that, I thank you.”
“Please don’t thank me. I did a lot of stuff I’m not proud of. Stuff I don’t know if I can ever forgive myself for.”
“I know, and I didn’t deserve a lot of it. But I forgive you, Chrissy.
And if I can forgive you, then you should forgive yourself.”
“I have a lot of guilt, Kurt. It’s not quitter guilt, it’s just guilt.”
“Is guilt the reason why you’re not with that guy?”
“There are a lot of reasons I’m not with that guy, but I’d definitely say guilt is at the top of the list.”
“Chrissy, what good is your freedom if you’re not gonna use it to go after the things you didn’t think you could have with me?”
“So you think I should try to find him?”
“Alright, alright…I’m your ex-husband, not your girlfriend! I’m done talking to you about this.”
After a few minutes of silent spinning, “Are you happy, Kurt?”
“I’m gonna miss calling you my wife. Just like you, I wanted this to be forever. But I know why it can’t be, so yes, I’m allowing myself to be happy. You know me; I don’t spend too much time on sadness and stuff like that.”
“Are you still with Kaaaaaayla?”
“Don’t you think it’s time to stop saying her name like that?”
“The thought of you kissing another woman makes me sick to my stomach.”
“I know the feeling. Yeah, I’m still with her. She likes to camp, you know. She loves basketball and hiking and…”
And there it was, his million-dollar smile, as big and beautiful as ever.
“Okay! Okay! Stop! I’m happy for you…I think.”
“But she doesn’t like yoga and yoga chicks are hot.”
“I know! Look at this butt I have now!”
“Oh boy, I should probably leave before I ask you on a date.” He moves to pull away, but I cling tightly to him.
“Just one last dance.”
“You got it.”
When we’re done, he wipes a solitary tear off of my cheek with his finger.
“How come you don’t have any of those for me?”
“If I started, I’d never stop.”
I pull away in amazement as I’m reminded once again of just how similar the two people I’m losing really are. He asks me how Kelly’s doing, and after a brief and not so great update, he puts his arms around me one last time.
“Craig told me that you’re one of the few people who’s been able to talk to her in person. I’m glad, I know you need that kind of closure.”
“Is that why you’re here?”
“That’s exactly why I’m here.”
Grabbing both of his hands and studying every line and scar on his face, “We’re not gonna be able to be friends, are we Kurt?”
“Would you be able to move on if we were?”
“No.”
“Then why’d you ask the question?”
“Stalling, I guess.”
“I should probably go now. Seriously, that new butt of yours is working its magic on me. Walk me out to my car.”
On the way out, I make one final scan of his body. I take a mental picture of his crew cut, of the tiny lines that form on the outside of his smile, of his…
“Kurt! Is that a fucking Porsche!?”
“Yeah, I bought the roses for you and the car for me. Pretty sweet, huh?”
After Kurt left the studio, I drove straight to Freakmont to sit on Kelly’s porch and write her a letter about the divorce and the Porsche. I thought she’d get a good laugh o
ut of both.
Kurt bought the car a few months ago. He admitted it was partly out of spite, a foreign feeling for him, but he went with it. I guess I can’t be too angry that he bought the damn thing because all of his driving around in it afforded him some much needed time to think. And the more he thought, the more he agreed with me that we weren’t right for each other. He also realized he’d much rather have a Porsche at this stage of his life than children, and secretly he became pretty damn thankful that things were the way they were. Right now, his new true love is the Porsche, but he admitted to me at the yoga studio that it might not be long before it was Kayla. And then he thanked me for his second chance to find true love. It was the second chance part that I thought Kelly would get a real big laugh at. I wanted to tell her she wasn’t the only one in town who could spread them around. But I never got an opportunity to write the letter. When I got to the house, I saw an envelope taped to the front door. It said “Read before you write.” I slump down into my usual spot on the porch and hesitantly open the envelope.
Hey ;oser, I already know about the divorce and the Porsche. Kurt told Craig about both of them last week. And yes, I laughed my ass off when I heard about the Porsche. Well, as much of my ass that’s left. What I don’t know is why this is the first place you came after you found out that you’re a free woman. Don’t you think there’s someone in New York who wants to hear about your divorce more than me? Someone you can actually have a life with! Go find him, Chrissy. I know he’s waiting for you.
Did you know that since I got sick you’re the only person who had the audacity to ask me, “What will I do when you die?” No one else would touch that question with a ten-foot pole! But you…you just had to go there! You always ask the questions that no one else has the guts to ask, and I’ve always admired that about you. I never answered your question, Chrissy because I really thought I could beat this. But I was wrong, it’s kicking my butt. So, I’ll answer your question now. After I die, you’ll live and you’ll love. Now get the hell out of here and get moving on those second chances. K.
p.s. Make sure you give my eulogy. C & N will be way too serious. Craig’s gonna need to laugh.
p.p.s. It’s Friday and I’m wearing my overalls!
p.p.p.s. Here are your missing journal pages. Damn girl, you’re a freak!
I reach back in the envelope and pull out the small stack of familiar papers. One by one, I glance at the incriminating pages that were ripped out of my journal on the night of my surprise party. This whole time I was wondering what happened to them, and Kelly had them all along, never in a million years would I have thought it was her who came to my rescue. I refold the letter and gently place it back in the envelope, careful not to let my tears smudge any of her writing. Just then, Craig comes out to sit with me.
“Are you okay?”
“No, are you?”
“No. She wants you to have this, Chrissy.”
My mind is racing as Craig hands me a tiny box. Is it her pearls, the something blue we shared on our wedding days, a special picture of the two of us?
“It’s her American Airlines frequent flier card. She enclosed her username and password so you can transfer the miles to your account.”
“What the…”
“She really wants you to go to New York…tonight. She wants you to tell that guy everything you came here to tell her.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me! I can’t fly somewhere at the drop of a hat. I have to work.”
“She knew you’d say something like that so she wanted me to remind you of how many times you barged into her life and tried to make her feel emotions that don’t come easy to her. She said it’s her turn now.”
“But this is different.”
“Hey, I’m just telling you what she wants. Besides, don’t you want it too?”
After thinking for a lot longer than the guy has time for…
“Craig…I want it so badly that I’m too afraid to go after it and find out it’s gone. It’s been a year and half since he went to New York. It has to be gone…doesn’t it?”
“Only one way to find out.”
I take the box, stand up, and dust myself off. Craig and I hug goodbye for a lot longer than usual. We both need it. Before I get in my non-Porsche car, I look up and see a faint outline of Kelly peeking thru the curtains. I step forward, but she puts a hand on the window in a way that tells me to stop. I clutch the box and the envelope to my heart and mouth the words “thank you.” It’s hard to see what she looks like, and I squint to get a better view, afraid of what I might see. As if she knows I would be, she gives me a shaky thumb up and then lets the curtains fall back together.
Have you seen my love
Is he far away
Have you seen the one for me
Whose face lights up my day…
(Have You Seen My Love? Rosie Thomas)
Wishing
December, 2000
What’s a girl to do? Should she fulfill the wish of her dying friend or should she protect herself from almost certain heartache and embarrassment? On the one hand, Kelly will never know if I went to New York, so technically I can ignore her request. But on the other hand, what if she’s right and I can get Leo back simply by telling him I’m divorced. What if it’s that easy? About an hour into the drive to my cottage, my brain is about to explode from all of my psychotic back and forth debating, so I flip on the radio hoping to take my mind off of Leo for two minutes, but guess who’s there yelling at me! My grandpa, and he’s telling me to go to New York, too. No matter what station I switch the dial to, every song that I shared with Leo and every song that reminds me of him is playing. Dave Matthews, Sarah McLachlan, Jewel…all of their voices sent by my grandpa to haunt me.
“… And I have the sense to recognize
That I don’t know how to let you go
every moment marked with apparitions of your soul…”
Shut up! Shut up! Shut up, Sarah McLachlan!
“… I’m ever swiftly moving
trying to escape this desire…”
I am, and it’s exhausting. Maybe New York isn’t such a bad idea. Not because I think Leo’s gonna swoop me up in his arms the second he sees me, but because the only likely way to rid myself of the desire I have for him is to hear it directly from him that he’s done with me. I guess he technically already told me that when he slammed the door in my face, sped away, and moved three thousand miles away. But I was still married then, he didn’t have a choice but to react any other way. But to get that kind of rejection from him now that I’m officially divorced and fully ready to commit to him could be officially desire killing! It’s the opposite of what I hope for, but at least it’ll result in some kind of closure, and I think that’s what Kelly wants for me. Apparently my grandpa does, too. Looks like I’m going to New York tonight.
I get back to my cottage in just enough time to pack a small bag and leave Slutty Co-worker a message about my trip and where I’ll be staying in case of an emergency and then I dash off to make the red eye. Where do I go when I land? Do I just show up at his office? Shit, what if he doesn’t even live in New York anymore? I thought the six-hour flight would afford me enough time to come up with a really good plan of attack, but it didn’t. And after creating three pages of the pros and cons of finding Leo, and chugging down six vodka tonics, the plane starts its descent into New York City…without a plan. Already!? I peek out the window, and when I catch a glimpse of the World Trade Center, I quickly close the shade as if he can see me. The closer the plane gets to the ground, the more I turn into a chickenshit, and by the time we touch down, I decide the least scary course of action is to check into a hotel near the World Financial Center and just wander around. I’ll have fulfilled Kelly’s wish, while at the same time fulfilling my desire to not make an ass of myself. Good plan, except little did I know, Slutty Co-worker was busy making me look like an ass on her very own. At one in the morning, after returning home from an evening of tawdry
raunchiness, she listened to my message. Without hesitation, she woke up Megan, who she made wake up her friend, who then woke up her now ex-boyfriend to get Leo’s phone number. By the time I check into my hotel, Slutty Co-worker had woken up most of Contra Costa County and called Leo to tell him where I was. Four hours later, after a quick nap and a cold shower, I reappear outside of the hotel. Unbeknownst to me, Leo’s there too.
Without a plan, I look to my left and to my right, take a deep breath, and walk in the direction of the nearest coffee shop. Leo follows a safe distance behind, careful not to let me see him. For over an hour, I sip on bitter coffee and stare at the nauseatingly happy Christmas shoppers as I absorb the real reason I’m here. On my third cup, I remove the list of pros and cons from my purse and review each line item again, now ranking them in order of importance. From across the street, Leo watches me have a bizarre mental conversation with myself as he contemplates his next move.
After what seems like forever, I come to the conclusion that the #1 pro associated with tracking down Leo is that he might profess his undying love for me. All good, but the #1 con associated with tracking him down is that he might tell me he’s in another relationship. Well, that answers that! There’s no way in hell I’m gonna track that guy down and find out he’s happily bangin’ some other chick! I violently crush the pieces of paper into tight balls and shove them in my purse. I’m definitely sticking with my chickenshit plan, and I’ll be spending my day wandering around NOT looking for Leo! I’ll do some shopping, have a nice dinner, and take the first flight back tomorrow. I pay the bill and get a smart ass remark from the waitress for taking up her booth for so long and then I venture back into the angry New York fray. Goddamn, the people here are mean.
The Life List (The List Trilogy) Page 39
