He held me close, stroking my hair, until I managed to get myself under control and looked up at him. "Sorry for crying on you."
He gave me a sad smile. "I'm not a witch either, I won't melt."
My mind flashed back to that moment before we went out into the rain for those incredible kisses. How could I already have so many memories with this man, and how would I live without adding more?
I sighed and snuggled back against him. He held me for only a few moments this time, though, before gently setting me away. "We can't do this any more. It's not right."
If I'd been hugging anyone else, it wouldn't have mattered. But hugging Loren mattered. I wiped the tears from under my eyes and nodded. "I know."
"So, Starbucks?"
I nodded and tried to smile. "If you're sure you don't mind, I'd love another latte. But don't bother if you weren't going anyhow. I'm okay."
He brushed my hair back from my damp cheek, then moved to stroke it again but stopped himself before he touched me. "I want you to be happy, not just okay."
I managed to keep from crying again until he'd left, but it was close.
Chapter Thirty-Two
All Alex seemed to want, over the next few days, was for me to erase the memories of our time apart. He didn't come out and say that, of course, but every time I did or said or used anything different he frowned or sadly made some comment about how he'd never seen that sweater or that nail polish before.
Thursday night before rehearsal I said, "Look. You've been gone nearly four months, and I didn't expect you to come back. I won't apologize for not turning my life into a shrine in your honor." Fortunately, he didn't know how close I'd come to that at the beginning.
He sighed. "I know. I just hate how much time we've lost together. Do you really have to go to that rehearsal tonight?"
"Of course. They're counting on me. And even if they weren't, I made a commitment."
I wasn't trying to say anything by that but that I needed to go, but he flared into anger in an instant. This was something new and unpleasant since his return, this hair-trigger temper. "Yeah, I know, I broke my commitment to you. Want to rub it in a little more?"
"I didn't mean it like that." My own temper had been on a less than even keel since he'd come back and disrupted everything, and now it took over. "But you know what? If I want to rub it in, I can. I'm not the one who cheated."
"What about Loren?"
I threw up my hands. When I'd come home from work that Monday, exhausted and miserable from a day spent staying out of Wendy's way and working in stiff awkward silence with Loren, Alex had said, "You broke it off with Loren, I guess?" I'd stared in shock, and he'd admitted what I'd already suspected: poor Wendy had in fact told him about newly hired Andrea from DataSource and how cute she was with their coworker Loren and how sure she was that they were headed for a relationship. "For the millionth time, there's nothing going on there."
"Yeah, right. Wendy told me--"
I lost control completely. "You will not say her name to me. She deserves better. You pretended to care about her stories and then you dumped her when she told you I was sick and vulnerable."
I'd hinted at this before but never said it right-out, and his eyes widened, the anger disappearing from them in an instant. "You really think that?"
I did, but I didn't want to fight any more. I'd never wanted to fight. "No," I said, then took a deep breath to try to release the sudden sick feeling in my stomach. "No, I don't."
"Good." He reached out and squeezed my arm. "It really wasn't like that. I just decided we should be back together, realized I love you."
Again my stomach twisted unpleasantly. I'd recovered from my terrible cold but ever since I'd had a near-constant dull nausea nagging at my insides. No doubt from everything the cold had taken out of me.
"You believe me?"
I nodded, and he smiled and pulled me into a hug. "Good. I hope rehearsal goes well."
"Me too." Each of our last few rehearsals had been more acrimonious than the one before it; though everyone was healthy again the split in the group hadn't remotely healed.
Alex tipped my face up and kissed me gently. I let him for a moment, but then couldn't stand it any more. Feeling sick as I did, I didn't like having his mouth on mine. I drew back and said, "Sorry, I should get going."
"Yup. I'm sure everything will be back to normal today."
Ten minutes into rehearsal, it was clear that if anything we were even closer to falling apart completely. We were supposed to be running the show's second act, but it was more limping than running. When a minor error became a screaming match for the third time, I knew I had to fix what I'd done to the group. I put my clarinet on its stand, got to my feet, and shouted, "Shut up!"
Everyone turned to me, shocked.
"Shut up, seriously. Because it's nobody's fault but mine. I had that cold before everyone else and I didn't know it and I made everybody sick. So stop yelling at each other and yell at me." I took a breath to go on but found myself choking back tears instead and ended up mumbling the last. "Because I deserve it."
Silence hung heavy for a long moment then David said, "Hardly. I was fighting it off too, on the long weekend, and I've been thinking it's all my fault."
"Me too," said a few other people scattered around.
Then, amazingly, everyone started laughing. Somehow my confession, and the other confessions it had sparked, had lightened the awful tension.
When we'd calmed a bit, David said, "All right. Apparently at least a few of us brought in the plague and most of the rest succumbed. That stinks, but it's a fact. It's also a fact that our show is set for October and can't be changed. So. Are we going to be brave like our lovely clarinet friend here and figure out how to make this work, or do we want to keep being whiny little bitches?"
"Can't we do both?"
David laughed. "Fine, George, you do both. How about the rest of you guys?"
They began clapping and cheering, and tears overwhelmed me in an instant. I didn't even know why I was crying, but I couldn't stop. George reached over and gave me a hug. "Come on, girl. Hold it together. You don't want to see me bawling."
"You really don't," several people around us said in unison, making everyone in earshot laugh again and those who hadn't heard demand an explanation then chuckle when they'd received one.
I laughed with them through my tears, and the joy of being part of the group combined with George's strong arm around my shoulders helped me get myself under control. I wasn't usually such a crier, but the cold and the drama with Wendy and Loren had really done a number on my emotions.
Once we'd all settled David said, "Okay. No more feeling guilty for being sick, or frustrated at where we are. We are where we are and that's all there is to it. Now let's get to where we want to be."
*****
My little outburst changed everything. The show wasn't any better, but our attitudes did a complete one-eighty and rehearsals were fun and productive again. People who knew their parts were now helping the ones who didn't instead of standing around looking aggravated, and the ones who still needed to learn were working incredibly hard and steadily getting better. Everyone was on the same side now, and we were fast getting closer to where we needed to be.
"The problem is," David said when he gathered us together at the end of rehearsal a week after I'd shouted at the group, "we're still nowhere near ready to go. I think we need to consider changing the show, simplifying the harder dance numbers and maybe making a few songs solos or duets instead of more complicated combos. I am not saying we're going to do this, but I'd like to discuss possible ways we could make that happen."
At first some people weren't happy about even broaching the subject, but they began to relax and participate in the discussion when David again made it clear he wasn't making any decisions yet and especially when he promised not to make any decisions before we talked again.
With everyone working together to think of ways to modify
the show, we were soon building on each others' answers and climbing to solutions none of us could have reached on our own. We proposed doing medleys instead of singing each song in its entirety, using some of our amazingly talented dancers as soloists while those with a little less experience basically stood around in character and cheered them on, and lots of other interesting and unusual variations.
David scribbled frantically, getting down all the ideas, and once we eventually fell silent he said, "That's amazing. It'd be a totally different show, but I think it has a lot of potential. Here's what I'd like to do. I'll take all this away and think on it, then chat with the executive, and in a few rehearsals I'll let you know what we're going to do. In the meantime, keep learning your parts, okay?"
We all hung around even though we'd been dismissed, not wanting to leave. The bond between us had been growing since I'd blown up, and I'd lost count of the number of people who'd thanked me for taking the blame even though I didn't deserve it, but today had deepened our connection yet again. I loved being with the group: we were like a close-knit family. Close-crocheted family.
My relationship with Alex, on the other hand, was coming unstitched, especially with his emphasis on the sex we weren't having. When I got home he said, "You look tense. I know how to relax you," and began kissing me with clear intent.
I pulled away. "I told you, not yet."
He sighed. "It's been two weeks. How much longer do you need?"
I had my period so he wouldn't want me anyhow, but even if I'd been available and longing for him I wouldn't have slept with him after that crack. "Oh, I'm sorry. How long am I supposed to take to get over my boyfriend cheating on me? I guess I didn't get the schedule."
He opened his mouth, clearly to snap back, but instead closed it and pressed his lips shut as if afraid the words would leap from him. Then he took a deep breath and shook his head. "I hate this fighting. It never used to be like this."
I didn't bother pointing out that he'd never used to cheat on me either. Then it hit me like a thunderbolt: maybe he had. Why did I assume it had only been once? "Was Kelly the first time you cheated on me?"
He sank onto the couch and pulled me down to sit beside him. "Yes. And I shouldn't have done it. Obviously. But yes, she was the first one." His eyes and face radiated sincerity, and I let myself believe him because I hated the alternative. Not that cheating once was okay, but it was somewhat better than a pattern of lies and deceit.
"You believe me?"
I nodded. I couldn't quite make myself say it.
"Good. Now, about Loren."
"I told you, we're not together and we never were." I had not told him, though, about our kisses. They were none of his business, for one thing, and I knew he'd ask how they were and I wouldn't lie and say they were terrible but also couldn't think of any way to say "Loren set me on fire in a way you never have" without being maybe a little unkind.
"I don't want you working with him any more."
I blinked. "I just got that job and you want me to leave?"
"Change duties with Wendy or something."
I had to laugh. "I doubt she'd want to switch her job to make you happy. Or me, for that matter." She and I were civil at work but nothing more. I saw the pain in her eyes when she saw me and I'd done my best to stay away to avoid causing her that pain.
"I want you to ask. I don't want you seeing him."
My poor stomach, still suffering the ongoing nausea, tightened, but this time I knew why. Orchestra rehearsal had been all about 'we', but I didn't think Alex had said anything but 'I' the whole time we'd been talking. We, he and me, were not a team any more, and I wasn't sure we'd ever really be one again.
I didn't help the cause much by saying, "That's not up to you. I won't be changing jobs, and I will be working with Loren daily." We'd become more relaxed with each other again but our friendship wasn't the same. I kept that to myself, knowing Alex would never sympathize. That it hurt me to see Loren daily, to know he liked me and I liked him and we couldn't do anything about it, I also kept to myself.
Alex shook his head. "I guess work's more important to you than we are."
There was that 'we' he hadn't said before. Funny how unsatisfying it was now.
Chapter Thirty-Three
After the two most awkward and uncomfortable weeks of my life had passed, I entered Loren's house for the first time.
"I'm sorry," he said for at least the tenth time that day. "I know it's weird coming here."
No weirder than everything else.
Alex and I were still together, swinging between fights and brief moments that reminded me of why I'd loved him so much for so long, like when he brought me roses to celebrate the anniversary of the day we'd first made love so many years ago. He knew me better than anyone else on the planet, and I liked being known that well.
But those moments were fleeting; after giving me the roses he said, "So we can have sex now, right?" and I'd refused and eventually ended up leaving the apartment because I couldn't bear to be near someone who couldn't understand why I wasn't exactly in the mood yet.
He seemed to expect to return to our old 'sit on the couch every night and watch TV' routine and I simply didn't want to, and he made it clear how disappointed he was and how little he liked what I was doing now. Our nearly constant bickering had my stomach in a perpetual knot. The time I spent at musical theater rehearsals and costume-making parties and set painting sessions annoyed him, my crocheting had been dismissed as 'old woman stuff', and he'd even made a few veiled comments about Harrison finding a new home.
I'd shut those down immediately, but hadn't been able to do the same with his cracks about my bellydancing. We'd had several arguments about the 'skankiness' of it, and though I'd tried to explain the elegance of Nadia's movements, how they were sensual without being sexual or slutty, and how challenging a dance form it was to master, he wouldn't listen and persisted in calling it my 'dirty dancing class'.
Of all the things he hated about who I'd become, my job seemed to top the list. His jabs at Loren and poor Wendy infuriated me. We still fought regularly about my refusal to leave Loren in the lurch, and I missed Wendy so much. I hadn't realized how often we spent a few moments chatting until all those moments were taken away, and I hated knowing that she was still miserable about losing Alex.
When I caught myself thinking, as I walked into Loren's house, that I wouldn't be miserable this time if Alex left me again, I hated that too.
To Loren, I said, "I appreciate you putting in this overtime with me."
He closed the door behind me and locked it, carefully checking to make sure the high-up security chain was fastened. "I couldn't make you do it by yourself. Is it okay, though? With..."
On one level I did appreciate his concern for my relationship, but remembering Alex's snide comments before I left the house that morning about me 'spending the night with Loren' sent anger blazing through me again, and my tone was harsher than I'd meant it to be when I said, "It's fine with me and that's all that matters."
Loren blinked, but thankfully didn't pursue it. "Good enough. I ordered pizza online a little while ago so it should be here in a few minutes. Then I'll feed Dad and get him settled in front of the TV for the night and we can get going."
We'd been doing all right on the project's tight schedule until yesterday, when the bosses decided to move the deadline up a week. Dana had authorized us to put in whatever overtime we needed to get it done, and Loren and I had decided to work as late as we could tonight to put a huge dent in the remaining tasks. He'd offered to drive me to his house, but I'd come over via streetcar and subway and bus instead because I needed to make a quick stop at the yarn store to hand in some samples I'd made to show how great crochet could look in Ellen's fanciest yarns. "Sounds good. What do I owe you for the pizza?"
He shook his head. "I got it."
I tried to protest, but he said, "You're wasting your time. Let's get our work set up before the pizza gets here."
>
"I'll make a Starbucks run later if we need the boost."
He smiled, his eyes warm but sad too. "Deal."
We looked at each other for a moment and I knew we were both thinking the same thing. But since there was no way to reverse back to where we'd been the day his dad went missing, I said, "So, where are we working?"
He gave me a quick tour of the place then went up to his dad's room to see what he and his caretaker were doing while I laid out the endless papers and file folders we needed on his dining room table.
He came back before I'd finished. "Dad's a little confused today," he said, fiddling with a folder without looking at me. "Don't be surprised if he doesn't know you."
My heart hurt. "He only met me that one time. I understand."
"If he asks your name more than once, keep telling him, okay? He won't remember that he asked before so there's no point in letting him know. Just makes him frustrated."
"Okay," I whispered, fighting the urge to hug him. How could he live like this? My parents were far away, and I'd love to see them more often, but at least I didn't have to wonder if one day I'd come home and they wouldn't know me.
He looked up, and our eyes caught and held, sending sparkly shivers through me. Then he turned away. "I'll leave you to this while I empty the dishwasher so we have some plates for dinner."
"Good idea." A little distance was probably exactly what we needed. Not what we wanted, though. The current between us when our eyes met made that clear. But I had to stick with the decision I'd made to take Alex back. I'd gone too far down that road to turn back. We still had good moments together and we'd make it all good again.
As I finished getting our work area ready, I heard footsteps on the stairs, and looked up to see a short stocky middle-aged woman with Martin right behind her. She smiled at me and said, "Hi. How are you?"
"Fine, thanks. You?"
"Well, I'm done putting up with Martin for the day so it's all good."
Toronto Collection Volume 1 (Toronto Series #1-5) Page 118
