After dessert, Elisa wanted to bar hop, but Meredith pleaded a headache. Part of her wanted to be out all night to avoid being alone with Ben, but most of all she wanted to escape Elisa’s suffocating presence. She couldn’t take any more trips down memory lane with her best friend.
They were silent as Ben navigated his 4-runner through Saturday night traffic. Low riders were slowing everyone down as they cruised Central Avenue in their pride and joy.
“Ben?”
“You’re drunk Meredith. Let’s not talk about this now.”
They continued in silence until they reached her driveway. Ben shut off the car and turned to face her.
“Well, goodnight.”
Meredith paused in the darkness. “Are you not going to come in?”
“No, I think I’ll go home tonight.”
“I’m not really that drunk anymore. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the whole story.”
“You didn’t tell me that you were going to marry Eric. You didn’t tell me that your boss is falling down in love with you. I wonder what else you’ve hidden from me?”
“Only those two things. And I wasn’t hiding the Peter-thing. I thought I was misinterpreting it.”
“But now that you know it’s true, you’re going to let your boss sexually harass you because…why? Because the pay is so good? God, Meredith. He’s worse than Corky!”
“You’re angry right now. Please, just come inside and let’s talk this through.”
“I don’t think I want to be around you right now.”
“I don’t want you to go home angry.”
Ben put the car into gear and started up the engine. “It’s too late for that, Meredith.”
He waited till she was safely inside before driving away. Meredith didn’t bother to turn any lights on. She walked through the house, feeling its emptiness. As soon as she lay down in bed the room started to spin. She jumped up and just made it to the toilet, where she vomited up her dinner and the drinks. For a long time after, she sat on the floor of her bathroom, her hands around the toilet, dry-heaving and crying. Mendra sat nearby, lending support with her presence.
Ben came by in the morning. He looked raw and angry. She sat down next to him.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Eric, Ben. I didn’t want you to know what I’d done.”
Ben didn’t speak.
“I”ve been so ashamed by what I did that I was afraid to tell anyone. My parents were so angry that they stopped speaking to me. I thought everyone would react that way.” She tried to calm herself down. “I’ve always been such a big disappointment to them. Art school, the pierced nose. My blue hair. The only thing they liked about me was Eric. And then I did something terrible to him.”
Ben’s eyes almost smiled. “Did you really have blue hair?”
“Yes. And horrible fights with my parents. My dad would threaten to throw me out of the house and my mom would cry and pray in the background.” She paused. “When Eric asked me to marry him...we’d been dating a few years. I had toned down quite a bit, but I think he liked my unconventionality.” She let out the air she’d been holding and breathed. “What I liked was that, because of him, my parents wanted to spend time with me, pierced nose and all.”
Ben reached over an examined her nostril until he located the small, white dot of scar tissue. He leaned back into the pillow. “I never noticed it before.”
“Couldn’t believe it without seeing it.”
He shook his head. “I guess not. It’s just...you seem so... different now, Meredith. You are conventional.”
Meredith noted that her feelings were hurt by his assessment. She had worked so hard to be acceptable, and somehow she’d become conventional instead.
“You’ve lied to me, Meredith.”
“I’m sorry. I should have told you about Eric.”
“And Peter. I had no idea the extent to which he had feelings for you.”
“What does it matter? I love you.”
Ben grimaced. “After all these months, you pick now to say you love me?”
“It just slipped out. I’ve loved you this whole time. I just was scared to tell you. Maybe because of Eric. Since him I’ve questioned my judgment on love.”
Ben stood. “I grew up with a mother who used love to play mind games on people. This feels surprisingly familiar.”
“Ben…” Meredith didn’t know what to say. “Ben, I’m not playing mind games with you.”
“Did you love Eric?”
“No. But I thought I love him.” She looked down at her hands. “Honestly, I don’t think I knew what love was until I met you.”
“I don’t even know who you are.”
“Yes you do. I’m the person you’ve known all along.”
“Really? Because I don’t see the Meredith who had blue hair or a pierced nose. Up until yesterday, I would have sworn up and down that you would never lie to me.”
Meredith suddenly felt afraid. “You do know me. You know the me who realized, on her wedding day, that she was the most miserable person in the existence of the world. You know the me who walked away from her family and friends because she wanted to seek a life where she could be herself, instead of everyone else’s projections.”
Ben was silent. The morning light was beginning to stream into the living room. Meredith took a deep breath, praying that her words had finally hit him.
“Did you really have five hundred guests at your wedding?” Ben asked.
“Yes.” The memory made her want to vomit.
He was silent again. Meredith waited. This is it. You’re finally going to pay for what you did to Eric.
“It must have taken a lot of courage to walk away.” Ben finally spoke.
“I don’t think,” she stopped. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “It was hard to walk away. But I had to.”
Ben sat down in her rocker. “I have to walk away now, too. I need to take care of myself, preserve myself. I’ve been up all night. I’ve got a twenty-four hour shift that starts in an hour and I don’t know how I’m going to make through. I can’t live that way.”
“Ben, are you breaking up with me?”
He nodded, and started to back out of the room. “I’m just going to get my stuff.” He turned and went into the bedroom. Meredith stood, wondering what she could do to change his mind.
“Wait,” she whispered. “Stop this madness. I love you.” She walked over to the door and planted herself in front of it. When Ben returned he was holding a book and his toothbrush, plus some folded clothes.
“Ben, you can’t just walk away. We can work this out.”
Ben shook his head. “I’ve made a decision. I can’t go backward.”
“Why not?” Meredith asked.
Ben came over and hugged her. She clung to him until he detached from her. His eyes were full of tears. “Good luck, Meredith. Good bye.”
“Wait! You can’t fucking walk away, just because things are hard. I lied. I’m sorry. I love you.”
“Meredith, things aren’t always going to go your way. I need to separate myself from you. I can’t be in a relationship where I’m lied to. When I think about the way you reacted about Ann, and she was just a girlfriend! Eric was your finance.” He walked out the door. Meredith followed him outside. He ignored her presence and got into his car. When he drove away, she sat down on the patio, unable to cry. He’s right. I’m a liar and a phony. Who would want to be in a relationship with me? The only good thing to come out of it, she decided, was that she’d finally be able to tell him a truth, that she loved him.
Chapter Nineteen
The house was as silent as a church. There was some door slamming at the Gonzales’, but the sound seemed muffled and unreal. Meredith sat for hours, lost in thought. Then she paced. Then sat again. At first, she tried to defend her lie about Eric. “That was the past,” she said aloud several times. She began to imagine the reconciliation. He’d come to her house after work. She’d open the door, and he’d be
standing on the step, hands in his pockets, his shoulders hunched. He’d look up at her and say, “I was such an idiot. I understand why you didn’t tell me about Eric. Can you forgive me for breaking up with you?” And she’d say, “I love you, Ben. Every piece of you. Even the part that frightens me to death and keeps me up all night.”
After a period of pacing, Meredith took out her paint box and tried to make a color study of snow on dirt. When that canvas was too wet to work on, she began a painting of her empty living room. She felt like she was pulling some black emotion up out of her throat and smearing it across the canvas. After an hour, she sat back to get a good look at what she’d accomplished. In the painting, her living room looked like the loneliest place in the world.
The phone rang and she scrambled to answer it on the first ring.
“Hello?” she asked cautiously.
“It’s Sarah.”
“Hey, how’s it going?” Meredith tried to sound light.
“Oh my God, what’s wrong?”
The damn burst and Meredith struggled to be coherent. She finally gasped, “Ben wants to break up with me.” She couldn’t even say that he already had.
“I’m coming over. Just hang tight.”
Half an hour later, Sarah came flying through the door. She had a box of tissues and a bottle of whiskey.
“I don’t want to get drunk,” Meredith said. She’d recovered from her crying jag.
“Just one. Blow your nose.”
After a few sips from a tumbler of whiskey with ice, Meredith did feel calmer. Raggedly, she described what had happened.
“You were almost married? Shit, Meredith. Why keep that a secret?”
“I left him at the altar. He hates me. My own family barely speaks to me. Why would I tell anyone else?”
Sarah nodded. “Okay. Here, have another drink. Do you have any food in the house?” She found crackers and sat those in front of Meredith. “Eat these. Why didn’t you tell me that Peter was hitting on you?”
“I did. You thought I was wrong. Everyone likes him so much. And he really was a good boss in other ways. I just decided to ignore it. I had Ben, so it didn’t matter what Peter wanted.”
Sarah took a swig of whiskey herself. Her eyebrows were furrowed. “Why is Ben so insecure in this relationship?”’
Meredith thought about all the times that Ben had told her he loved her. A fresh wave of tears overwhelmed her. “I should have told him I loved him sooner.” To Sarah’s perplexed expression she said, “I didn’t know if I was capable of love. He said he could wait.” She let out a sigh. “Then it just slipped out. I was being honest, but it was the wrong time to say it. Now he thinks I said it to manipulate him.”
Sarah gave her a sad smile. “It’s going to be okay. I don’t think there can be wrong time to tell someone you love them.”
“Yeah,” Meredith said hopefully. “Maybe he will have calmed down by tomorrow.”
“He probably will. He seems like a reasonable guy.”
Meredith went to work, mainly because she was scared to be alone. People’s eyes widened at her face. “Allergies,” she answered, before anyone had a chance to ask. At home she cried, but around other people, she felt anesthetized.
“Go home,” Peter told her. “You look awful.” His presence made her feel sick.
“No. I’m not sick.”
“Did you have fun at the party?”
“Yeah. Listen, I’m trying to get this finished by three.”
“Not a problem.” Peter stepped backwards out of her office.
By the end of the day, she was feeling hopeful. The tremoring blob of emotion in her had hardened around the edges. “He’ll come back to me.” She repeated this phrase like a mantra. “He loves me and he’s going to come back to me.”
“Go see him. Tell him you’re sorry and that you’ll never lie to him again,” Kira advised. “Don’t let him get away. He loves you. He’ll listen.”
“Yes.” Meredith began to breathe easier. “You’re right. I’m going to call him.”
“Just go in person.”
“Okay. Thanks.” She hung up with Kira and called Ben. His machine picked up. “Hi, Ben. It’s Meredith. Um. I’d like to talk to you, uh, sometime, if you’re free. Would you please call me back? Thanks.”
“Forget him. You can do a lot better.” Sarah was sitting in her kitchen, thumbing through the yellow pages for take-out. Meredith was over for dinner. Sarah was turning into a real homebody lately, hating to meet in restaurants, although her aversion to cooking daily meals was undiminished.
“I can’t do better. He’s as good as it gets.”
Sarah sighed. “You're a prize, too.” She pressed her index finger on the page to hold her place. “Chinese?”
Meredith traced the marble countertop. She wondered if she was worthy of Ben.
Sarah picked up the phone. “Moo shoo pork?”
“Whatever.”
Sarah ordered an extra dish so Meredith knew Victor was coming. She felt irritated by Sarah's assumption that Victor was always welcome. Sometimes friends should come first.
“Have you seen Peter?” she asked when Sarah hung up.
“Just yesterday.”
“You haven’t told him any of what’s going on?”
“No. Although he was trying to pry it out of me. He knows you’re in crisis.” Sarah raised an eyebrow. “It’s written all over your face. For God’s sake, if you can’t stop crying, won’t you at least put some makeup on?”
“I told him it was allergies.”
“Oh. Okay. I’m sure he bought that.”
Meredith’s tooth felt like it was throbbing up into her brain. The pain seemed to be getting worse, not better. “Well, let him speculate. By the time he sorts it out Ben and I will be back together again.”
Sarah paused and studied her. “How do you figure that?”
“I left him a message.”
“Why don’t you try dating Peter?”
“Ugh. Disgusting! Sarah, don’t ever say that again, or I’ll have to leave.” Meredith felt overwhelmed by sadness. She put her head on the counter. “Do you have any painkillers?” she asked.
“Sure. Is your tooth still bothering you?” A cupboard opened. The faucet ran, and Sarah laid two terra-cotta-colored pills and a glass of water in her line of vision. “You need to go back to that dentist. Or get a new one.”
Meredith lifted her head just enough to swallow the pills.
The front door slammed, and Meredith heard Victor say, “Hello, anyone home?” She sat up again. “Hi hon, hey Meredith.” Victor kissed Sarah on the cheek as he came into the room. “Why the serious faces? What are we talking about?”
“Why Meredith needs cut her losses with Ben and move on.”
Victor raised an eyebrow at Sarah, who rolled her eyes in response.
“Fine,” Sarah snapped, after twenty seconds or so of a dialogue based on facial expressions with Victor. “Go for it. Fight for him if you must. But in my opinion,” here she gave Victor a significant look, “you’re squandering your resources.”
Victor poured them all a glass of wine. He studied Meredith for a minute. “Why don’t you come down to the gym for a few sessions of kickboxing?”
After four days, Ben still hadn’t returned Meredith’s call. She left him another message. In her third message, several days later, she recited her number, in case he’d torn it up in a fit of rage. After three more days, she realized that he wasn’t going to call her back. The thought caught her unawares one morning as she poured her coffee into a bright yellow mug, balanced on the edge of her kitchen sink. She sat down at the kitchen table a cried a few tears, but her head was already mapping out different solutions. She’d have to be more assertive, she concluded. So that night, after work, she drove to Ben's house instead of going home. He wasn’t there. At first, she sat in her car, but this seemed too easy. She felt she had to show Ben that she was doing penance, so she abandoned the relative privacy of her vehi
cle and took up a post on his front steps.
The days were warming up, but as darkness came the air chilled. By seven, everything was dark except the sky, which was still lit by the setting sun. Ben's door had a motion sensitive light over it. Every time it turned off, she moved her head in a wide circle to reactivate it. Night sounds began to rise up from her surroundings. At seven-thirty, his truck barreled into the driveway. Meredith couldn’t see anything but the headlights, which looked angry, and she tried not to assume that the driver shared this emotion. For a few minutes, he didn’t get out of the truck. She had a sudden thought, lined on one side with fear and one side with hope, that he might back up and drive away without opening the door. She wondered if he was waiting for her to walk over to his window. She sat, watching the truck, grinding her fingernails into her palms. The door finally opened, and Ben emerged and trudged up to stand in front of her on the lawn. Or, rocks, as it was xeriscaped. He was in green scrubs and he looked thinner and sadder, but handsome too. Maybe it was just relief to know he still existed in the world, but Meredith felt a wave of gratitude for his presence, there in front of her.
“Did you get my messages?” she asked meekly.
Ben nodded. Then waited. Then spoke. He seemed to be bracing himself. “I didn’t return them because I don’t want to get worked up like I was two weeks ago. I’m moving on, Meredith, and it’s a battle, and talking to you will just set me back.”
“I miss you,” she said. “Don’t you miss me at all?”
He started crying then and a little bit of relief flowered in Meredith’s chest. “I miss you,” he sobbed. “I miss the way you rub my thumbs when you hold my hands. I miss the way you don’t smother me with emotion. The way you feign sleep at 5 a.m. I miss the vein on your left wrist.” He wiped his tears away.
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