by Harper Bliss
“I believe you’ve earned yourself a beer, buddy,” Gerald says to Troy.
I wasn’t expecting that move from Gerald either. He’s giving me an opening here. I have to take it. “I know a great coffee place a few blocks from here,” I say to Jodie. “Catch up?” My heart is almost bursting out of my chest. Seeing her makes my insides churn with nerves but, at the same time, joy sparks within me, and it seems to multiply by the second.
“Why not?” Jodie replies, but she looks at Troy, as though she’s doing him a favor. He hugs her in response.
“Thanks, Mom.” He lets go of Jodie and addresses Gerald. “Come on, Dad. I know just the place.”
Jodie and I stand in silence for a while.
“How about something stronger than coffee?” she asks, finally meeting my gaze.
“Oh yes.” I can actually feel my confidence coming back, like a coat I had misplaced, but found again and it still fits me like a glove. “Come on, we’ll take my car.”
I drive us to the same place where I first met Troy again. We manage to find a table on the back patio and we both order martinis—dirty with two olives—the way we used to.
“You’re at a considerable advantage here, Leigh. You knew you would see me today. You had time to prepare. Whereas I, frankly, am still recovering from the shock,” Jodie says as soon as the waiter goes back inside.
“It’s just a conversation, Jodes. There are no advantages or disadvantages to be had.” I didn’t mean to call her by her nickname. It just came out.
“Christ, always the lawyer,” she says awkwardly.
“But you’re right. I’ve known for a while that I’d be seeing you—and I’ve been nervous about it ever since.” I can’t wait for that drink to arrive, although I must not overindulge. I’m driving Jodie, after all. How long has that been? Since we drove to The Hamptons for the very last time. The drive back to the city from The Hamptons has managed to stay lodged in my memory despite its blurry, dreamlike quality. Two hours of my brain playing ping-pong.
“I know you hated me for a long time after, Jodes. That weighed heavy on me. I wish we could have had a cleaner break—” Oh no, I said it again.
“There are no clean breaks when so much love is at stake.” Jodie’s tone is harsh.
“I know, but at the time, it was the only way for me. I hope you can see that now.”
“No need to revisit. You made your reasons very clear. Sometimes, it just doesn’t work out.”
I can’t help but shake my head. “Don’t give me that. The end of our relationship was not a matter of ‘it not working out.’” Finally the waiter returns. “It was a matter of wanting totally different things from life.”
“I don’t see the difference, but if you say so,” Jodie says.
“We were right for each other on so many levels.” I take a few quick sips. I need them.
“And yet here we are. Sipping martinis like virtual strangers.”
“I wish it didn’t have to be like that.” I take a bigger gulp now. “I wish you didn’t feel the need to be so defensive.”
“That’s a good one coming from the woman who, in all of my life, broke through my walls the most.” Jodie hesitates for a second. “I had no choice but to build them back up again after we broke up. Doubly fortified.”
“I couldn’t stay, Jodie. It would have made us both miserable.”
She nods. We both know. “Are you, huh,”—she pauses again—“seeing someone?”
“Not at the moment.” Not for a long time, I think. “If I were, she wouldn’t be too happy I’m meeting up with you.”
“How do you mean?” Jodie’s green gaze rests on me.
“Because no one else ever lived up to you. To what we had together.” In a way, it’s a relief to finally be able to say this. Not to anyone else, but straight to Jodie’s face. “Obviously, I didn’t realize that at the time.”
“Regrets?” Jodie asks. Her spine is straight, but her voice wavers a bit.
“It’s hardly fair to sit here now and claim that I regret my decision, after all this time. Let’s just say that, on a personal level, my life didn’t exactly work out as I had planned.”
“As opposed to it doing so brilliantly on a professional level?”
“I’m good at my job. Always have been. But it came at a cost.”
“We all have a price to pay.”
“You have Troy and Rosie. No price is big enough for that.”
“That might be true.” She looks away from me. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you terribly.”
“Comes with the territory of breaking up.” My glass is almost empty.
The ringing of Jodie’s phone interrupts our conversation. She grabs for it hastily in her bag.
“Tonight?” I hear her say without hiding the disappointment in her voice.
“It’s okay, honey.” Honey? Who is she talking to? Rosie? “You’ll be in New York most of the summer. We can celebrate for weeks on end.” It must be Troy. Is he canceling their—and my—dinner plans? Hope flares in my chest. More of Jodie just for me.
“Yes. Just catching up…” Jodie says before hanging up and staring at her phone indecisively.
“Stuck with me?” I ask, unable to mask the twinge of hope in my tone.
“Looks like it.” Jodie looks at me and I can tell—I still can—she’s not too unhappy about this situation.
“I’m not going to lie, Jodie. I love Troy to pieces, but that ex-husband of yours, well… I’m glad I got out of that particular dinner. Imagine the riveting conversation. I’d much rather spend the evening with you.” I don’t hold back when I stare at her. “That is, if you want to, of course.”
“If I had known my son would ditch me, I would have booked the red-eye back to New York. Rosie has the flu. Poor thing.” She’s lost in thought for an instant. “I hated that I had to leave her behind this weekend, but I couldn’t do that to Troy. And she’s in good hands with Muriel.”
“Troy has shown me pictures of her. What a cute little thing. And quite the mouth, I hear?”
“It’s a rewarding thing, you know, motherhood. Hard to put into words. But we’re all different, I guess.” Jodie’s tone has gone hard again.
“Do you really want to go there again?” I slant my body over the small table. “Or do you want to enjoy the few hours we have together tonight? I, for one, am very happy to see you. And I’ve never blamed you for the choices you made, despite the fact that all they came down to was that there was no longer room for me in your life.” I lean in a little closer. “And don’t, not even for a split second, think it didn’t hurt me every bit as much as it did you.”
She holds up her hands, displaying her palms.
“How about another drink?” I smile at her, hoping to convey that she should say yes.
“Sure.”
I hold up my hand to signal the waiter. “Tell me about Suzy,” I ask, although I have no right to.
“What did my son have to say about her?”
“We never gossip about you in that way, Jodie. I promise. We both respect you too much for that. Anyway, Troy claimed he never really got to know her.”
“You ruined me for a lot of women.” A grin breaks on Jodie’s lips.
“Oh sure, blame me.” I grin back. “Any other woman would thank me, by the way.”
“As I’m sure many have.”
“Ha.” I feign indignation. “I’ll admit that for a while after we broke up and I moved West, I played the field. But, as you well know, I’ve never really been one for one-night stands and affairs going nowhere. I need more than that. Much more.”
“Only total surrender.”
“Oh, Jodie.” I can’t stop looking at her. All these years of not being with her, not experiencing what only she has ever given me. “Tell me what you’re thinking right now.” I can’t be a hundred percent sure of the quickly changing vibe between us, but I take a chance, anyway.
“I’m too old for your games now, Leigh,” she
says, but I can tell she’s at least a little bit interested. I can tell by how she flutters her lashes and fiddles with the cuff of her blouse.
“It was worth a try.”
“Was it?” She looks at my hands. Perhaps she remembers what they can do.
“Where are you staying?” I need to make my move now. “I’m only asking because I’d much rather do something else with you than sit here and get drunk.”
“You remember well.” Jodie cocks her head.
“‘Fondly’ would be a better word for it.” I empty my drink. “Back in the day you were much quicker to say yes.”
“What can I say? I was thirty years old and still so easily impressed.”
“Hm. I disagree.” I eye her glass, hoping it will make her empty it quicker. “I think, that particular day, what you needed more than anything, was for someone to sweep you off your feet.”
“Cut to Leigh Sterling, who did a sterling job.”
“We were such different people then.”
“What kind of person are you now, though, I wonder?” Jodie asks.
“Evidently not the kind who can persuade you to invite me to your hotel with one well-aimed, smoothly delivered sentence. Not anymore.”
“You’re so much more than that. Always were.”
“I’m not playing games right now, Jodie.” I can hear the urgency in my voice. “What would you like to do? I feel like we have this chance here, time for something unexpected… to get reacquainted, perhaps. I don’t know.” I shake my head. “As far as relationships go in my life, ours still counts as the most significant one I’ve ever had.”
“Is Troy setting me up in some way? Obviously, he wanted me to see you again. And that whole basketball game excuse he just called me about… is he playing lawyer tricks on me?”
“I don’t know, but does it really matter?” The joy I experienced earlier is soon making way for a slew of painful memories.
“Did you ask him to arrange this?”
“I would never use your son like that.” This time I don’t have to feign indignation. “We may well be sitting here together with a whole evening stretched out in front of us because he wanted it, but if that’s the case, it’s his doing alone. Not mine.” I swallow hard. “You’re also free to go whenever you want.”
She holds up her palms again. “This is emotional for me, too.”
“I know. I shouldn’t have said that, it’s just…” I tilt my head and find her eyes. “I hadn’t expected you to have this effect on me, still.”
“Let’s go to my hotel,” Jodie says suddenly.
I don’t say anything, just call for the waiter. Jodie leaves some money on the table, and before I fully realize what is happening, I’m driving us to the hotel where Jodie is staying.
CHAPTER TWENTY
When we step into the elevator, I half-expect Leigh to start kissing me, but this is eleven years later, and all the boundaries we once carefully set have vanished, and when I look at myself in the shiny metal of the door, I see a different woman—outside and in. Yet, I want her to. I want someone to do that to me again. To take away all the things that always simmer somewhere in the back of my brain, to take away that longing that’s been building in my gut for years. And I only want Leigh to do it. She’s no means to an end. She’s my ex-partner. The only one who ever knew me well enough to take me to the place I needed to go. Because the things I want, you don’t just ask of someone. Or, at least, I guess you could, but it would take away half the pleasure.
The elevator cabin is silent, apart from a buzzing hum, and the sound of our breath, coming as regularly as always. Yet, beneath my skin, my blood is sizzling. I start making up a list of all the things this is not, but I realize quickly that I don’t need to. I don’t need to overthink this, or think about it at all. That’s the whole point of inviting her to my room.
The best part of this entire elevator ride, which is about to come to an end, is that I get to experience both sides of the thrill. I know Leigh and the familiarity between us reassures me, yet I haven’t seen her in years and there’s the excitement of newness crashing through my flesh as well. Do I still love her? I ask myself as we exit the elevator and I guide her to my room in the furthest corner of the hallway. Do I? If I do, it’s in a totally different way than before. The love that remains after the hurt has been dealt with. A more sedated, stable kind of affection based on memories and shared experiences and the life we once lived together. But, no matter what we do or how hard we try, we can never, ever get that life back.
As soon as we walk into my room—the one Gerald has generously paid for—which is swanky and large and boasts full-length windows on one side, Leigh starts scanning her surroundings. The curtains will have to remain open, of that I’m sure already, but she’s also looking for props. I wonder if I would be offended if she unearthed some sort of toy from her bag, a flogger perhaps, or handcuffs. If I would be able to forgive such presumptuousness. But not even Leigh Sterling can rise to that level of audacity, and I remember what she used to say to me. “You have no idea what you give me when you take the pain.” But I did, and I still do.
“Drink?” I ask.
“Just some water, please.” To my surprise, Leigh dodges my glance when I look at her.
“Are you okay?” I try to make my question sound casual as I snatch a bottle of water from the minibar and pour its contents into a wine glass.
“I don’t know.” Is she having second thoughts? What was I expecting anyway? A re-run of our first date? “I think I know what you want from me, but I can’t read you like that anymore. Too much time has passed.” She takes the glass I hand her and deposits it on the desk she’s leaning against. “I’m also not sure we are people who can just do this once and walk away, especially with the history we share. I’m only speaking for myself, of course. But this, for me, can never be casual. Not with you.”
“What are you trying to say?” My heart is thumping away beneath my ribs. I grab the tiny bottle of Scotch I took from the minibar earlier and start to unscrew the top. Are we not on the same page, after all?
“I do have regrets. What if you were the one I let go? After you, my life did not become what I wanted it to be, and you know why? Because, yes, I’m good in court, and I was made partner well before I turned forty-five, and I made much more money than I could ever spend, because what would I possibly spend it on? Myself? I’m always working, anyway, because when I come home at night, to my gorgeous house, no one’s there.”
The person standing in front of me is so far removed from the Leigh I expected to encounter in my hotel room, I need to blink. “Why don’t we sit for a bit?” I gesture at two club chairs flanking the window.
“I’m sorry, Jodie. I know this is not what you signed up for.” Leigh sighs when she crashes into the chair, and there’s nothing regal about her posture anymore. It reminds me of the day we broke up. She looked like her spine had shrunk several inches, and her voice had lost all of its liveliness. Leigh never had to tell me she was hurting, I always knew well before she had the nerve to fess up.
“I didn’t sign up for anything.” I sit down opposite her, trying to find her eyes, but she keeps looking away. “You’re a bit young for a midlife crisis.” I try a joke.
“It’s you.” The words come out as a whisper. “I usually don’t feel like this. Perhaps because I don’t allow myself to. Or because I don’t have time for self-pity, but mainly because I’m not the type to dwell and look back like this on the choices I’ve made. But seeing you… actually, if I’m being truly honest, it started when Troy contacted me for the first time. That kid.” She shakes her head. “I could have been there for all of it—his first girlfriend, his first year in high school, his first everything—but I walked away.”
“Please stand up,” I ask, leading by example. I extend my hand and wait for her to take it. She does, letting her fingers brush over mine before truly grasping them, and pulling herself up.
“If I were y
ou, I’d kick me out as well.” A hint of a smile breaks through the sadness on her face.
“I’m not kicking you out.” I always wanted you to stay, I think, but don’t say out loud. “Who knows why we make the choices we make, Leigh? All we know is that they make us into the person we’re meant to become. You’re a hot-shot lawyer now, which is, by the way, quite a sexy thing to be. You know, in an Amanda Donohoe eighties kind of way.” At last, the first hint of her trademark grin. “You’re only forty-five. And as you just said, you’re not someone who looks back often, so look to the future. One of the big advantages of the life you’ve lived so far is that you have no strings attached. You can be or do whatever you want.”
Leigh’s grip around my fingers grows firmer, yet I’m the one who leans forward and instigates the first kiss. “For example, you can do this.” I tip my head and inhale her scent before pressing my lips to hers. I wish I could say her scent roused a million memories from my soul, but I’ve given birth to another child since she left, I’ve lived a whole new life, and the smell of my ex-lover is as new to me as all the rest of this.
“I need to know how you feel,” Leigh says, as we pull back from what I can hardly describe as the passionate lip-lock I had hoped for.
“How I feel?” Despair clings to my voice. “Confused, horny, ready…” I ramble. “I want you, Leigh. That’s how I feel.”
“You want me for the person I once was to you.” Leigh brings her face closer again. “You want me to tie you to that bedpost over there”—her eyes dart away from me for a moment—“and push five fingers inside of you.”
It’s exactly what I want, but I’m not sure I should just give myself away like that. It doesn’t really work that way—never has.
“Most of all,” Leigh continues, “you want me to stop talking.” Her eyes bore into mine, and I can tell she’s getting there, that she’s getting herself ready. “And take charge.”
