“You were always a lightweight,” Alice said.
“No one knew me better than you,” Leslie said, dead serious. “I’ve missed that connection.”
Alice poured Leslie a fresh glass of water and motioned the waiter over. “I’ll have one more spritzer. She’s all set.” She turned back to Leslie. “What? I’m half Irish. I need three to feel what you feel on two.”
Leslie took a deep breath and then several gulps of water. “I’m glad we could do this, Alice.” She looked down and played with the unused spoon left after the lunch dishes were cleared.
“I am, too.” Alice was sincerely glad. Leslie was her first true love and would always be special to her, no matter what.
“I have something to tell you, but I wanted it to be in person, not over the phone.”
“What’s wrong?” Alice asked in a near panic. “Are you sick?”
“No, I’m not sick. I’m going to divorce Bill.”
Alice’s stomach plummeted like a run-away elevator.
“Close your mouth,” Leslie joked. “You’re going to catch flies.”
“I don’t know what to say.” It wasn’t a platitude. She truly was speechless.
“I understand. It’s all you wanted to hear nine years ago, and now, what feels like a lifetime later, I’m finally saying it.”
“What happened?”
“You know what happened, Alice. Things were never the same with Bill and me after I met you. I tried my best to be a better wife to him after you, but I couldn’t be the person I was before. I didn’t know how to be. When you moved to Hartford, I sank into a depression. Thankfully, my kids kept me from losing it altogether.”
“I’m sorry, Leslie.” Alice reached across the table and folded Leslie’s fingers in hers.
“You don’t have to be sorry.”
“How could I not? To be honest, I’ll never regret our love affair because of what I’ve learned and how I felt in those brief moments of paradise I spent in your arms. But I’m genuinely sorry you suffered.”
“You suffered, too.”
“At least I was able to get through it on my terms,” Alice said. “I took off and changed my scenery, my whole way of life.”
She glanced around the restaurant. The thought of causing Leslie such pain was still a fresh wound. “Strange as it seems, even though my own marriage ended, and I practically caused the end of yours, I still believe in it. I still believe in love.”
“I do, too,” Leslie said. “You might think I’ve regretted our love affair, but I haven’t. I tried for a very long time not to love you, to forget that you made me feel the way nobody ever has, and then I realized how silly that was. It’s part of me. You’re part of me.”
Maureen swooped into Alice’s mind like a chaperone separating pubescent kids at a junior-high-school dance. She sucked in a breath, suddenly smothered by the thought of moving her belongings into Maureen’s place the next day.
“Are you still living at your house?” That was all she could think to say.
Leslie paused, as though derailed by the truth. “I haven’t actually filed yet.”
“Bill’s still living there, too?”
“Well, yes. I haven’t told him yet.”
“You’re not even separated?” Alice shouted, furious for allowing even the smallest bud of hope to flower in her.
“I want Rebecca settled in college before I break the news. Something like this could devastate her and send her whole life off track.”
“I’m familiar with that feeling.” Alice stood, collecting her purse and light jacket from the back of her chair. “I have to be running along now. Great seeing you.”
Leslie jumped up, startled. “Alice, what’s wrong?”
“What’s always been wrong. Except this time I’m not waiting for you.” Alice marched to the door and shoved it open.
Leslie trailed closely behind as Alice headed out of Quincy Market.
*
After a peaceful month home with her two cats in Boston, Alice felt better equipped to handle the major decision she’d been grappling with since her extended visit in Connecticut earlier in the summer. Pressure from Mary Ellen over her alleged desertion decades ago, from Rebecca about Leslie, and her own complex feelings for Leslie had become too intense and had set her mind reeling.
Despite semi-regular texts from her sister and Rebecca that revealed their thinly veiled ulterior motives—Mary Ellen claiming she wanted to make sure Alice was okay home alone in her big, barren house, and Rebecca wanting to keep her apprised of the auspicious progress she and Sage were making in couples’ therapy—she’d done a fair job of keeping the distractions to a minimum as she attempted to sort out what she wanted.
Cynthia and Kathy had also contacted her, saying that after their lunch date in July had reaffirmed the importance of their friendship, they wanted a pledge that they would never again allow so many years between get-togethers. Alice was in total agreement. But even as the for-sale sign stood on her front lawn, and all logical signs pointed to relocation back to Connecticut, she still questioned if being in such close proximity to Leslie was the best thing for her.
Leslie still electrified her like no other. After all that time, all those tears, amazingly, she still had a lock on Alice’s heart. Even on the eve of her lifetime commitment to Maureen back in ’87, she had still been vulnerable to Leslie’s lure. Although she’d loved Maureen, and Maureen loved her with a safety and contentedness Alice had never felt before, Leslie had possessed the power to drive her to recklessness far-reaching enough to toss all that away for the shadow of a promise.
May 1987
“Why are you running off?” Leslie said, still trailing Alice through Quincy Market. “We were in the middle of an important conversation.”
“I’ve heard quite enough,” Alice said, taking longer strides.
“I don’t understand,” Leslie said, then shouted, “Jesus Christ, Alice, will you stop and talk to me?”
Alice halted under the Samuel Adams statue and whirled around to face her. “I’m with someone, Leslie,” she said, trying to catch her breath. “In fact, I’m moving in with her tomorrow.”
Leslie’s mouth hung open for a moment as she processed Alice’s news. Alice squinted against the afternoon sun, trying to compose herself.
“Why didn’t you tell me this on Monday when I called?”
“What difference would it have made?” Alice said. “I thought this was just supposed to be lunch with an old friend.”
“I wouldn’t have opened up to you like I did,” Leslie said. “I feel like such a fool. I practically admitted I’m still in love with you, and you wait until now to inform me you’re with someone?”
“I’m sorry, Leslie. Your phone call really threw me for a loop, and if I’m honest, it made me immensely curious. I’ll say one thing for you—you have impeccable timing.”
“Who is she?” Leslie said, her eyes dilating with jealousy.
“She’s an advertising exec.”
“What’s her name?”
“Maureen Cavanaugh.”
“Where did you meet her?”
“She did some work for the insurance company I work for.”
“Is it real? Are you happy with her?”
“I’m moving in with her, aren’t I?”
“That’s not what I asked you.” Leslie’s eyes practically pinned Alice to the base of the statue.
“I know what you asked me. The questions made me feel uncomfortable.”
“The questions or your answers?”
“Why are you doing this?”
“The woman I love is moving in with someone else,” Leslie said. “Don’t I have a right to know a little about her?”
Alice scratched at her chin in frustration. “I’m not sure you have a right to anything where it concerns me and my attempts to heal and get over you. You made your choice.”
“Yes, I did, and there isn’t a day that goes by that I’m not reminded of it.�
��
“Aren’t you being a little dramatic? It’s been almost ten years.”
“You know what, Alice? Some wounds can’t be healed by time. Just when I think I’m really over you, a goddamn song comes on the radio, and the lyrics paint a picture of you, of us, and I feel it all over again.”
Impatient with the conversation, and Leslie, Alice glanced around the market at the assortment of people, wondering if any of them could possibly relate to the mess she’d found herself in at the moment. Leslie’s martyr routine seemed to have lost its mystical power to elicit Alice’s sympathies.
“Why did you come here?”
Leslie looked at once surprised and hurt by the question. “To tell you I’m getting divorced.”
“You’re not getting divorced. You’re thinking about it. The poles of difference couldn’t be any farther apart.”
They stared at each other for a moment—a moment that could’ve changed everything.
“I’m sorry I bothered you, Alice. I wish you the best with Marlene.” She turned to walk away.
Alice stopped her with a yank on her purse strap on her shoulder. “It’s Maureen, and you’re not gonna do this to me again.”
Leslie looked frightened as she tried to pull away. “I have to get Rebecca. Her seminar is almost over.”
“I don’t care,” she spat as she flung Leslie’s arm free. “How dare you rip open my heart again and leave me bleeding while you run off and hide behind your kids? Why did you come here? To get me hooked on you again, so I can agonize in withdrawals wishing for something I’ll never have? Again.”
“Alice, no,” Leslie said softly, her face contorting as she obviously tried to stave off tears. “That was never my intention. Honestly, I didn’t think after all this time it would still feel like this, for either of us. I didn’t know you were still so angry.”
Alice hadn’t known either. Now she was the one choking back tears. Why had she grabbed Leslie’s arm when she was about to walk out of her life for good?
“I’m sorry, Alice. Obviously, I was wrong when I thought maybe we could be friends.”
That would be wonderful if it was even remotely possible. As it was, Alice was having difficulty remembering Maureen was expecting her and the moving truck early the next morning, an occasion she was supposed to be excited about.
Alice sighed. “Remember how all our previous attempts at ‘just friends’ worked out?”
“I know, and I won’t bother you anymore.” Leslie had given up trying to stem the tide of her tears. “Please, just tell me you don’t hate me.”
Alice covered her eyes with her hand for a moment and then pulled herself together with a deep breath. “‘We women love longest even when all hope is gone,’” she finally said, staring absently at the mountainous staircase leading out of Quincy Market.
“Huh?”
She looked Leslie in the eyes. “It’s a Jane Austen quote.”
“Oh.” Leslie crossed her arms over her chest as she digested its meaning. “Well, it’s certainly fitting.”
“I could never hate you, Les. Never.” She offered a wry smile. “It would sure make things a lot easier if I could.”
Leslie snaked her arms around Alice and squeezed like a boa constrictor with something to prove. Alice didn’t want to enjoy it, but despite the guilt, she held on to Leslie and absorbed her with all her senses.
“Good luck with your move,” Leslie said into her ear.
Alice’s skin tingled long after Leslie finally let go. “Tell Rebecca I hope she gets her first choice.”
“Thanks. I will.”
“You’re welcome.” Alice smiled. She wanted to walk away—she really did. But as usual, she waited for Leslie to make the first move.
Leslie turned to walk away, then stopped. “Alice?”
Alice’s heart hammered her chest as she anticipated the rest of the question. Ask me to come away with you. Ask me right now, and I swear I’ll go.
“If you ever make it back to the New Haven area, don’t be a stranger, huh?”
Alice released breath it seemed she’d been holding forever. “You bet.”
Again, Leslie turned away, but that time, she ran back to Alice and embraced her, whimpers escaping into Alice’s ear.
“I do, too, Les,” Alice whispered.
“Always?”
“Forever.”
Alice pushed Leslie away and walked off without looking back. If she hadn’t right then, a phone call to the movers canceling her appointment the next morning would’ve followed.
Chapter Twenty
Alice was quiet as she followed Mary Ellen back to the car, a fusion of sentimental farewells and tempered enthusiasm for things to come. After touring her fourth and final condo unit of the day, she was grateful for a late-September breeze that ruffled her hair. It was hard to believe that less than three months earlier her life had been stagnant, her home an empty warehouse with only memories and mourning to keep her company. What a contrast to the whirlwind of change she’d experienced since that chance message from Rebecca in early July. Although she’d lived almost an entire lifetime away in Boston, returning to Connecticut and the people she loved was indeed a homecoming.
“What do you think of that one?” Mary Ellen asked.
“It was nice,” Alice said with a noncommittal gesture.
“You’ll never beat that view of the water.”
Alice arched an eyebrow. “You sound like you’re getting the closing commission. If it’s any consolation, I’m just as tired of looking as you are.”
“I’m not tired of it at all.” Mary Ellen cranked up the air-conditioning in her SUV. “I just want you to sign on the dotted line before you change your mind and go back to Boston.”
Alice smiled. “Mare, my house is sold. I’m here to stay.”
“I’m so excited.” Mary Ellen air-clapped her hands and then remembered her manners. “How are you doing with that?”
“I’m doing okay, you know? The magic of that house died when Maureen did. I could never get used to the echoes of only one set of shoes on the hardwood floors. It was time.”
After a moment of silence, Mary Ellen squeezed her hand. “Think you’ll make an offer on one of them?”
Alice’s mouth relaxed into a tentative smile.
“Yes!” Mary Ellen said and hugged her.
Alice’s cell phone chimed with a text from Kathy. She smiled as she read that Kathy and Cynthia were arranging an authentic crochet-klatch gathering that Friday night and that her attendance was not optional.
“We’re going to have so much fun shopping for your new place,” Mary Ellen went on, but Alice was otherwise engaged.
She typed back, still smiling.
You got it.
“Pier One is having a huge sale. We should stop there now.” Mary Ellen glanced over as she drove. “What the hell are you grinning at?”
“A text from one of my friends.”
Kathy replied immediately.
Bring Leslie. Kidnap her if you have to!
Alice’s smile shriveled. “Bring Leslie. Sure. Just like that.”
“Are you going to let me in on any of this?” Mary Ellen asked.
“You’ll be hearing all about it soon enough.”
*
The drive to Cynthia’s house in Middletown seemed longer than Alice had remembered. As comfortable as she’d felt in Leslie’s presence, when those awkward silences drifted in, they blanketed the atmosphere like a stalled weather front.
“How does it feel living in Connecticut again?” Leslie said.
Thank God somebody said something.
“Some days it feels like a different world, and others, like I never left.”
“Which kind of day are you having so far?”
Alice smiled and gave her a quick glance. “It’s definitely leaning toward like I never left.”
“I’m glad you came back.”
“I am, too.”
“Maybe we can go to
lunch sometime. I’m planning to return to my pre-stroke routine of volunteering and babysitting Jake, but I’ll still have plenty of free time.”
Alice smiled at Leslie’s eternal gift for optimism and diplomacy. Friendship at this stage would be a wonderful thing. She’d had time to reflect since the last occasion she’d stormed out on Leslie in frustration and had come to realize that if she would stop expecting more from Leslie than she was able to give, they would have a real shot at an authentic friendship.
“I’d like that,” Alice said. “I’ve signed up for Literacy Volunteers of New Haven, but I’ll still have plenty of free time, too.”
“I can’t wait to see the girls again,” Leslie said, staring out the passenger window. “Too bad poor Dolores can’t be with us.”
“She’ll be there with us in spirit, I’m sure.”
“I think I’m going to keep this in the car.” Leslie indicated the quad cane resting against her leg.
“Sure, if you don’t think you’ll need it.”
“I don’t think I will, but I’d feel self-conscious hobbling in with a cane—like such an old lady.”
Poor Leslie. Would she ever learn that she didn’t have to live her life according to the expectations of others?
“What are you talking about? We’re not old ladies,” Alice said. “Cynthia’s seventy-five now, with rheumatoid arthritis, and Kathy’s got sciatica. Everybody has something.”
“You don’t.”
“Yes, I do. Sky-high cholesterol and a sketchy-looking mole on the back of my leg. I should make an appointment to get that looked at.”
Leslie pursed her lips. “You better.”
“We may not be pot-smoking disco queens with pencil-thin eyebrows anymore, but we’re certainly not old ladies. I say if you need that cane, you strut into Cynthia’s house with it like you’re starting a new fashion trend.”
“Oh, Alice.” Leslie laughed. “You always know the right thing to say to make me feel better.”
They exchanged smiles.
“But I hate to remind you that we were never disco queens.”
The Second Wave Page 23
