Variables of Love

by M. K. Schiller

  I cradled her back and laid her down gently onto the bed. I dislodged myself in an excruciatingly slow motion, knowing this was the last time I’d be inside of her. I ran my fingers over the patterns my teeth made on her beautiful body, and I kissed every one of those areas. She rubbed my back.

  “I hurt you. I’m sorry,” she said between sobs.

  “I hurt you first. I’m sorry.”

  We weren’t talking about the sex, and both of us knew it. Then I remembered the thing I had to tell her. The last conversation where I’d said she was being irrational that I’d replayed in my head until I finally figured out what she was telling me. The information would give her some peace.

  “Baby, guess what I found out?”

  “What?”

  “Swans don’t mate for life.”

  “They don’t?”

  “No, I looked it up. There’s some new research on it. They found out by performing DNA testing on the offspring. It turns out there were many sets that had the same mother, but a different father. Sort of a swan version of ‘who’s my baby’s daddy.’”

  “Why are you telling me this, Ethan?”

  “Don’t you see, Sunshine? You don’t have to feel bad about Isaac anymore. He’s going to be just fine. He’ll be in a lot of pain for a while, but he’ll move on. Suzanne didn’t abandon him. Not really.”

  She wiped a tear from my eye. I hadn’t realized I was crying too.

  She swallowed and nodded. She pulled me close and kissed my lips softly. Then she moved her mouth toward my ear. She whispered the words, full of choked gratitude and warmth, “Thank you, Ethan.”

  Chapter 26

  DESPITE THE INTENSITY of the past school year, we were both studious, and we both walked with the gold cords of summa cum laude honors. I clapped loudly for him as I knew he did for me. I had thought that would be it. We had our proper goodbye, and I was satisfied with that. I never expected to break bread with him in the most uncomfortable dinner in the world. It made our little attempt at a dinner party look like the White House Inaugural Ball in comparison.

  My parents made reservations at Pala Mia’s to celebrate my graduation. They invited Raj’s and Rachael’s families as well, reserving a huge table for us. It was extravagant, and the last thing I was in the mood for. I sat next to Chetan, who had managed to annoy me more than I thought possible as he extolled the virtues of Canada versus America.

  “Isn’t that the boy we met the other day?” my mother asked.

  “Who?” My heart started beating wildly as my eyes darted around the room. Sure enough, Ethan sat at a table adjacent to us with a beautiful brunette I recognized as his mother. He looked incredibly handsome in his charcoal suit and emerald green tie. A tie I had bought for him.

  “You know…Emmitt.”

  “Ethan,” I corrected.

  “Who’s Ethan?” Rachael’s mother asked. I shot Rachael a troubled glance, noticing her skin turned the same color as her fiery hair.

  “Rachael’s boyfriend,” my mother announced.

  “You have a boyfriend and didn’t tell us?” Rachael’s mother admonished.

  “We…uh.”

  I sent a silent ESP signal to my best friend. Surely, we were so close she would read my thoughts. Tell her you broke up. Tell her it was over, I pled silently.

  “Yeah, my boyfriend,” she answered.

  I shut my eyes tightly, willing the nausea to go away. I knew Rachael’s mother. She wouldn’t let this rest.

  “You should invite him to join us, Rachael,” my mother offered.

  “No!” I said way too loudly. “He’s with his mother. He’s busy.”

  “Well, if he’s dating my daughter, he’d best make some time,” Rachael’s mother proclaimed, standing up and walking in their direction.

  It wasn’t five minutes later that two more chairs were brought in. Ethan and his mother sat next to Rachael and across from me. I couldn’t help but stare at his mom. I never expected to meet her and certainly not like this. Her hair was up in a tight chignon, she was wearing a sophisticated but feminine pink suit, and she looked completely polished. She smiled at all of us and shook hands as introductions were made. She had very kind blue eyes that matched her son’s.

  Ethan looked uncomfortable. I’m sure he protested, but I knew Rachael’s mother. Rachael had been so private about her exploits that her mother was afraid she was going to be a nun. Verna Blackwell had no intention of letting this opportunity pass. I tuned out the other conversations around the table as Verna asked Ethan all about himself. He was uneasy, but he answered politely.

  “What is your faith, young man?” Rachael’s father, Pastor David Blackwell, asked Ethan. I stiffened in my seat.

  “I’m non-practicing at this time,” he replied. Pastor David didn’t look pleased, but he didn’t press.

  “What are your plans for your future?”

  “Mom, don’t you think you’ve asked my boyfriend enough questions?” Rachael said, gently punching Ethan’s arm in what was supposed to appear as a friendly gesture, but I knew it was a little too strong. Why had she told the whole boyfriend lie in the first place?

  A glass of water slammed down so hard in front of Ethan that some spilled over the side. We all stared up at Alex.

  “Hi, I thought you weren’t working today,” Ethan said.

  “They called me in. They needed help with a big party. Nice party, man.” He looked at Rachael pointedly. The poor guy had no idea what was going on. The jury was still out on Rachael’s decision to continue their long-distance relationship. Rachael’s parents still didn’t know about him.

  I couldn’t even imagine what he was thinking when Rachael referred to Ethan as her boyfriend. Alex straightened up and maintained a semblance of calm amicability while he took our drink orders. “Are you having the same as him?” Alex asked Rachael, his eyes darting suspiciously between both of them.

  “She’s not. Trust me, on that,” Ethan offered.

  “Why not? Rachael loves lemonade too,” Verna stated.

  “The lemonade here is very bitter,” Alex replied.

  “I don’t want lemonade, Mom. I don’t like it.”

  “Yes, you do,” Verna insisted.

  “I’ll have ice water.”

  Alex left to get our drinks along with the other waiter. “I’m going to check and make sure he has the drink order right,” Rachael announced. Ethan stood and pulled her chair out.

  “It’s a drink order. I’m sure he can manage that,” my father said.

  “I want to make sure he knows I don’t want lemonade.”

  “But—”

  “She’s right, Dad. Let her make sure it’s clear,” I replied, patting my father’s arm.

  Ethan smiled at me. I tightened the scarf around my neck. Of course, he knew I had worn it specifically to cover up his love bites. He rubbed his back against his chair, and I couldn’t help but giggle. He did it to put me at ease, to make me smile like he always did. Everyone glanced at me like I was crazy. Everyone but Ethan.

  “So, Mrs. Callahan, what do you do?” Verna asked Ethan’s mom. “You look familiar to me.”

  I sucked in a deep breath, preparing for the impact of the bomb Dr. Love would ignite when she explained her occupation to this conservative group.

  “It’s Love. Miss Love. I’m a psychologist,” she said simply, and I exhaled.

  “Oh, that must be interesting.”

  “It is.”

  “I didn’t even know Rachael had a boyfriend,” Verna explained.

  Chetan was jabbering in my ear about something. I nodded and murmured to let him know I was listening, but I was completely disinterested.

  “I didn’t know either,” Dr. Love replied.

  Rachael returned to the table. “Did he understand about the drink order?” I asked her.

  “He was confused, but he understands now,” Rachael replied, staring at Ethan’s mom, her eyes blinking with comprehension. Rachael had lent me the book in the firs
t place, after all. She was about to blurt something stupid out. I wished she was closer to me so I could kick her, but Ethan realized it too, because he turned to her and shook his head in warning. A warning she heeded.

  “It’s so strange how American kids keep things from their parents. It’s like they enjoy being secretive,” my mother said. I flushed with embarrassment, fighting the urge to bang my head on the table at the bitter irony of the moment.

  “I don’t know about that. I think it has to do with trust and taking ownership for your own decisions. They always tell us when they’re ready as long as we’re willing to listen.” Dr. Rosemary Love seemed like such a genuine person. Unfortunately, I was a fraud.

  “What are your plans after graduation, Ethan?” Verna asked.

  He looked at me and then to her before answering. I leaned forward, wanting to hear this. Chetan was talking about the benefits of outsourcing or something. I’d written many papers on the subject and normally might find it an interesting topic, but right now, I was fighting the urge to shush him.

  I wasn’t sure what Ethan’s plans were either. The last we had talked, he was being heavily pursued by many companies. They’d sent him expensive gifts, took him to fancy dinners, and flew him out for interviews. He had narrowed his choices down to three, but I didn’t know which one he’d picked. There was a major Internet company right here in Silicon Valley, a high profile Wall Street firm in New York, and…NASA. The man is being courted by NASA.

  “I’m going to work at a Wall Street financial firm. I used to live on the East Coast, and I miss it,” Ethan announced.

  We would be close to each other, and yet so far. It didn’t seem fair. I wondered if he was thinking the same thing.

  “New York is so crowded and dangerous. I have no idea why anyone would live there,” Chetan blurted out. I had no idea he was listening.

  “It’s the best city in the world,” Ethan answered, narrowing his eyes.

  “What are you going to do when Rachael goes to England?” Verna asked. I wondered if she would ever run out of questions.

  “I’ll be sad,” Ethan answered.

  “Well, it’s only for a year. I’m sure you’ll work something out.”

  “Are you ready to order, or do you still need time to decide?” Alex asked only Rachael. It was clear he’d overheard.

  We all ordered quickly. This whole situation was ridiculous and uncomfortable for everyone. Everyone but the parents who seemed completely oblivious to all the secret conversations that were taking place.

  “Meena, your mom was telling me you are interested in graduate school. There are some really great schools in Quebec,” Chetan said.

  I wouldn’t have even paid it much attention, except Ethan shifted in his chair, staring at me, waiting for my reply.

  “I don’t know where I’m going to graduate school or if I’m going yet,” I replied.

  “I could get you some pamphlets.”

  “That’s very nice of you, Chetan,” my mother said.

  “You know, if you’re interested in graduate school, you should consider New York. They have some impressive choices,” Ethan said a few decibels louder than necessary.

  It was the first time he’d spoken directly to me. He was asking me to move to New York so we could continue our charade. To live some more in the present with him. My heart lurched at the thought of spending a few more years with him, negotiating our clandestine romance, but it was stupid. As long as I was around, Ethan wouldn’t live for his future. He’d live in my present.

  “Quebec is the financial epicenter of Canada. There are great opportunities there,” Chetan said, interrupting my rampant thoughts. God, I wanted to elbow him.

  “New York is the financial epicenter of the world. Besides, you don’t speak French, do you, Meena?” Ethan asked me.

  I shook my head.

  “I can teach her,” Chetan said, and then he said some phrase in French, which sounded ridiculous since I had no idea what he was saying.

  Ethan laughed cynically, eyeing Chetan closely. “Le pensez-vous est-vous celui facile à acclimater? Il sera difficile pour elle.”

  Ethan speaks French? Why didn’t I know this, and why did it sound so sexy coming from his lips and so lame coming from Chetan?

  “You speak French? How wonderful,” Verna said, clapping her hands.

  “His pronunciation is incorrect,” Chetan chimed in.

  “I just speak conversational French. Meena, do you really think you could learn to speak French? That you could manage the cold winters of Quebec? That you could live in a foreign country?”

  “Canada is hardly foreign,” Chetan spat, obviously offended.

  “Last time I checked, it wasn’t part of the United States,” Ethan said, raising his eyebrow at me.

  Damn him.

  I gulped down my water. “Actually, I don’t think either Quebec or New York is in my future. I wouldn’t fit in, and you shouldn’t live somewhere you don’t fit. It would just be living a lie.” I said it to Chetan, but the words were for Ethan.

  “You have plenty of time for that decision, Meena,” my mother interjected. She was irritated by my snub toward Chetan, but I didn’t care.

  “Raj, what are your plans?” I asked, realizing he’d been unusually quiet. He was sad from his breakup with Phillip, but he’d hardly said a word. He’d already told me he was going to Ohio State for graduate school, so I didn’t need to ask the question, but I wanted a distraction from the Chetan/Ethan-French pissing contest.

  “I actually just had a change of plans. We’re moving to India.”

  I think Rachael, Ethan, and I all gasped at once. I peered over, trying to get a good view of Raj who was at the far end of the table on my side.

  Raj smiled sadly. “It’s a good thing. There will be tons of closet space for me.”

  “Raj, I told you we need to pack light,” his mother said.

  Raj’s father started explaining how he had a chance for a transfer to Hyderabad. My father congratulated him profusely, telling him what a wonderful opportunity it was. It was more than he’d talked throughout the entire dinner.

  All of the graduates spent the rest of the meal in stony silence, while our parents chatted amicably. We were all in mourning. Not just for ourselves, but for each other.

  I excused myself when dessert came, hoping Ethan would follow me. He did. I pulled him into the women’s restroom and then into a stall. We stood in the small space, pressed intimately together in a way we both craved.

  “I can’t move to New York. We can’t keep doing this,” I whispered with quiet urgency into his ear so no one could accidently overhear me.

  “I figured. You’re not going to marry that tool, are you?” he whispered back, his warm breath sending chills over my skin.

  “No, I’m vetoing him.”

  He exhaled. “Thank goodness.”

  “I like your mom. She seems nice.”

  “I hate your parents.”

  “Ethan—”

  “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. They are wonderful people.” He didn’t say it sarcastically. It sounded like he meant it.

  “Why the sudden change of heart?”

  “They have to be. They made you.” He started undoing my scarf. He trailed kisses along my neck. “Shit, this looks really bad. Did I make a problem for you?” he asked, running his finger over the dark spot on my neck.

  “I can cover it. I didn’t know you spoke French.”

  “I didn’t know you were going to graduate school.”

  “I didn’t know you were moving to New York.”

  “We can do this all night. There are things we will never know. Why did you pull me in here?”

  “To say goodbye. My last conversation with you can’t be about the merits of New York versus Quebec. It’s not the way I want to remember it.”

  “You want to have sex?” he asked, raising his eyebrows seductively.

  I giggled and slapped his chest. “Hardly. Yo
u realize your mother could walk in here any minute.”

  Ethan shrugged. “It’s not my mom I’m worried about. Let’s not say goodbye. We’re getting too good at it. You believe in reincarnation, right?”

  I nodded, wondering what he was getting at.

  “That’s one religious notion I might be able to support. Let’s just say, see you in the next life.”

  “See you in the next life, Ethan Callahan.”

  He crushed his mouth to mine, drawing me into a passionate kiss I wasn’t ready for. My arms encircled his neck, and my toes curled inside my pumps. It lasted a long time, and when he finally pulled away, I was completely breathless.

  “See you in the next life, Sunshine. I’ll be looking for you.”

  Chapter 27

  MY MOM INSISTED ON HELPING me pack, but it was annoying. I didn’t have the heart to tell her, but the OCD side of me kept rearranging her boxes. I was almost done anyway. The apartment I’d lived in for the past four years was now empty. Darren was coming to get all the furniture. He had decided to stay in Palo Alto and found a place with Alex. I was driving to New York and only wanted to take what would fit in my car. I was glad to be leaving. Everywhere I looked, I saw her. Her painting hung over the couch. It would be the last thing I packed.

  My mother set down the textbooks she was carrying. She put her hands on her hips, regarding me with disapproval as she caught me rearranging the box she’d just packed.

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  I picked up the box to stack it with the others. “Sorry, Mom, I just like things in a certain order. You know that.”

  “Not about that, Ethan. Tell me about how you’re in love with your girlfriend’s roommate.”

  I dropped the box on my foot. “Ouch,” I shouted, hopping on one foot.

  “Sit,” she said, leading me to the couch. “Are you hurt?”

  “Yes,” I said, rubbing my toe.

  “I wasn’t talking about your foot, young man.”

  I laughed uncomfortably. My mother had a sixth sense, or maybe it was part occupation and part mom-sense. “How did you know?”