Searching For Meredith Love

by Julie Christensen

  “That’s Sarah's designer,” she told him, as Eli danced by.

  Peter looked at him a moment. “How’s painting?” he asked her.

  “Good,” she said.

  “I’d love to see your stuff some time. When you feel comfortable showing it.”

  “I’m having a show next month. At a pub.” She’d planned on keeping that a secret, but it came out very easily.

  He seemed truly impressed and happy for her. “Wow,” he kept saying. “A show. Wow.”

  They danced in silence.

  “My brother’s an artist,” he said. “A sculptor.”

  “Really?” Meredith asked interestedly.

  “Yeah. He’s living in Germany right now. Making a living at it, too.”

  “Good for him.” Peter's cheeks were red. He looked like he hadn’t meant to share so much information. “What about you?” she asked him. “Do you do any art?”

  “Oh no. Not at all. I used to draw a little. But Noah’s the artist.”

  “There can be more than one per family.”

  “Can there?” Peter asked, backing up to see her face. “Sometimes it seems like there’s only one slot allowed per family. First come first served. Isn’t that how a lot of families are? Only one per family?”

  “Maybe. So Noah’s older?”

  “Actually, I am, by four minutes.”

  “You’re twins?”

  “Fraternal,” he said, as if that type didn’t really count. “And very different. His sculptures are amazing. He uses found objects. A lot of mechanical stuff. They do things. They’re really cool. Even for someone like me, who’s just an amateur looker. You don’t have to know a lot to enjoy his work.”

  “That’s the best kind of art there is,” Meredith asserted. The slow dance was ending and Peter started leading her back to the table.

  “Maybe,” Peter said. “But some art requires some knowledge to appreciate. Like Picasso. Or Pollack.”

  “But the first people who saw Picasso’s work appreciated it without having studied post-modernism.”

  Peter's eyebrows raised. She could tell she’d stumped him. He laughed and shook his head. “Give me a couple of days to think this through. I’ll either tell you why you’re wrong or how incredibly intelligent you are.”

  Meredith laughed. As the music grew faster, more couples left the floor and sat down to eat. Their own table filled quickly, and they shared the rest of the evening with Victor’s aunt and uncle from New York and Sarah's production manager.

  “What a fabulous pair,” the aunt announced as waiters hustled around the room with trays of food. “Him with his karate and her with her phone covers. It’s a match made in heaven.” Meredith smiled at Peter.

  The uncle shook his head. “How can you make a living off karate? He could have been an engineer. He was always very good at math.”

  The aunt looked embarrassed, like he’d just given away their family secret. The mask had been taken off and, surprise! there was no money to be made in teaching martial arts.

  “Some people are multi-millionaires from teaching kickboxing,” Peter told the uncle. “Martial arts is hot right now.”

  “I don’t think that’s why Sarah's marrying him, anyway,” the purchasing manager said. Meredith realized that she’d already forgotten the woman’s name.

  “He’s a sweetheart,” the aunt agreed. “Ever since he was a little boy he’s sent me Christmas cards. Even when he was a teenager. And he always writes a note inside, telling me about his life and asking about mine.”

  “Sarah's a lucky girl,” Meredith told the aunt. She genuinely meant it.

  Meredith left shortly after Sarah and Victor. They had hugged all the remaining guests, danced one final dance while the band played, “The Way You Look Tonight,” and driven away in a rented vintage car. Meredith and the other guests had followed them outside to see them off. Sarah's dress was pale and bright against the inky night. Victor kissed her before helping her into the passenger seat. The group of guests applauded. With a toot of the horn, they drove off, scattering gravel and sending up a cloud of dust.

  “Well,” Meredith said, looking at her watch, “I better hit the road too.”

  “The band’s still playing,” Peter said. “Are you sure you don’t want to get in a few more dances?”

  “Yeah. I’m really tired. I can’t believe I stayed as long as I did. My plan was to leave after I’d been there an hour.” She looked up at Peter's face, which was hard to see in the dark. “But I had a great time. Thanks for hanging out with me.”

  Peter shook his head and looked up at the moon. After a minute, he said, “You don’t have to thank me for hanging out with you. I enjoyed myself. And I usually hate these things.”

  “Get home safe,” she told him, and pulled out her car keys.

  “I’ll walk you to the car,” he offered.

  “Oh, I’ll be fine. If a coyote attacks me, you’ll hear me scream.”

  “I’ll just walk you half way and watch you from a distance to make sure you get in all right.”

  “It’s just right over here,” Meredith said.

  Peter stopped. “Then I won’t come any closer. Good night, Meredith.”

  Meredith took a few steps away before she turned around and said, “Good night, Peter.”

  The next morning was sunny and cool, but she lazed around indoors, watching television and dozing in and out of dreams on her sofa. Mendra curled up next to her, purring like a little engine, against Meredith’s belly.

  On Sunday morning, Meredith made an extra strong cup of coffee and sat at her kitchen table. She made of list of things to do. Paint, clean. Possibly go into work to catch up.

  She phoned Kira.

  “How was the wedding?”

  “Good. I danced with the harasser.”

  “Gross.”

  “You know what? He was a real gentleman.”

  “It’s an act. He’s a creep.”

  “He’s not that bad.”

  “What’s going on here?” Kira asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Is something happening between you guys?”

  “No! Definitely not! It’s just that he’s been really sweet lately. He knows that Ben broke up with me. And he didn’t hit on me at all.”

  “He’s trying to win you over by pretending to just be friends.”

  “Is that so wrong? We could be friends. And I need to get over Ben. I’ve got to find a way to stop being so consumed by him. Maybe dating Peter would do it.”

  “Great idea. Just do it with someone who’s not your boss.”

  Work on Monday began with a meeting. Meredith didn’t make eye contact with Peter, who sat at the front, prodding people along. “Bottom line me, Maria. We’re on a schedule here.”

  When he got to Meredith, he looked up and said, “Meredith? What’s the status on the questionnaire?”

  “The whole thing should be up and running by tomorrow afternoon.” She dealt with her nervousness by looking him in the eye and pretending she was calm.

  At the bottom of the agenda was the phrase “happy hour.” Peter studied it a moment before saying, “David and I thought we should start to schedule happy hours once a month or so. For when we work late on Fridays. We could send someone on a beer run. Someone for food. I need a person to organize it. Find out who drinks what beer, et cetera. Any volunteers? Anyone?”

  It took Meredith a minute to raise her hand. “I’ll organize it.”

  “Thank you, Meredith.” His face betrayed nothing and Meredith began to wonder if she’d imagined the friendship she thought they’d been developing.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Victor had volunteered to help Meredith hang her paintings. He came in his truck at 8:30 in the morning and helped load them. They drove up to the bar, where the manager waited to let them in. They had to have the whole show hung before the bar opened at eleven for lunch.

  The day before the hanging, when she was stapling copies of h
er show announcements to wooden telephone poles, she had seen Ben come out of the Half Moon Coffee House on Central with Ann. They’d been dressed casually, in shorts and T-shirts. His truck was parked on the next block and as Meredith watched, he’d opened Ann’s door and guided her in with his hand on her elbow. When she’d disappeared inside, he’d gone around to the other side and climbed inside. He’d looked neither happy nor sad. After a moment, he’d pulled out into traffic and driven away. Meredith had just continued to staple her signs.

  Victor was a precise hanger. He’d insisted on packing the paintings, because she was not being careful enough. At the bar, he measured the wall length so that they could space the paintings out evenly. Meredith enjoyed being around someone who didn’t require her to talk much. She laid the paintings out in the order she wanted, but deferred to his judgment in every other way.

  “That’s too high,” he’d said after Meredith pounded her first nail into the wall. Now she was just sitting at a table, drinking seltzer with a lime wedge. Victor was straightening each individual piece. She thought that he and Sarah would be very happy together. It was ironic, how this whole time she’d thought that she and Ben were the real couple, and Sarah and Victor were just fooling around.

  “Isn’t it funny,” she said to Victor, “how life surprises you at every turn.”

  Victor didn’t take his eyes off the painting he was standing in front of. “Yes. And nice when you realize later that the surprises were all part of the plan after all.”

  Meredith spent the afternoon waiting for her art opening to begin. Sarah showed up at around five without calling. She’d been doing that a lot lately, Meredith noticed. As if she was more comfortable with the boundaries of their friendships since the night she had came over after Ben dumped her.

  “I’ve got a little something for you,” Sarah said, handing her a brown box wrapped with primary colored ribbons.

  “What’s this?” Meredith exclaimed.

  “A little gallery-warming present.”

  They were silver earrings. Large hoops that emphasized her cheekbones when she wore them.

  “Thank you.” Meredith touched them lightly with her index finger.

  Sarah rolled her eyes. “And Victor wants you to know,” she began, the words coming out against her will, “that they’ve been blessed by some sort of hippie to absorb the negative feelings out of you.”

  Meredith smiled. “That’s touching.”

  Sarah shrugged. “Yeah, well. I knew what he was like when I married him. So I guess I can’t really complain. Now, what are you wearing?”

  That evening, Kira came to the house to get her. “So you can get plastered on your big night!”

  Meredith's hair was in a bun to show off the scooping back of her black velvet dress. “How long has this been in your closet?” Sarah had exclaimed when she found it, under a dry cleaner bag, pushed to the back.

  “Since New York.” The dress made her realize she’d had a life before Ben. A past in which he had never existed.

  “Wow. You look like a movie star.” Kira stood on the stoop like she was shy about coming in.

  “Oh, shut up, Kira. It’s just because everyone here dresses so casually. You’re just not used to seeing someone in full make-up.”

  Walking from the car to the bar was nerve-wracking. She stopped a block away. “Wait. Let’s just stand here a minute. Damn! I wish I smoked. Now would be the perfect time to pause for a cigarette.”

  “You’ll be fine. Let’s go.” Kira dragged her down the street. The opening was scheduled for seven. It was 7:10. Fashionably late.

  The announcement for the show had been published in the weekly calendar of the Albuquerque Journal and the local freebie. The bar owner had asked her if there was any other place she’d wanted it to go and she’d told him the Santa Fe paper. Because that’s where the galleries are, she’d told herself. I’m just trying to promote my art.

  When they walked in, the first thing she saw was a group of tables pushed together to form one, completely filled with people from work. Peter stood as she stepped inside and started applauding. Everyone from the company followed his lead and rose to their feet clapping.

  She was mortified. She wanted to step back out onto the street. But she also loved it.

  “Who is that hotty?” Kira asked, eyeing Peter.

  “The harasser,” Meredith said as she walked to the table. “Wow,” she told the table of mostly strangers. “I can’t believe you all came. You barely know me.” She felt tears coming up to her eyes. “Thank you,” she told them, making eye contact with each and every one of them. “It’s a real treat to see so many friendly faces.” Everyone was smiling at her with encouraging faces. She didn’t know what to do next. This is exactly why I avoid people, she thought. She was about to thank them again when Peter said, “What’ll you have?”

  “Oh, I’ll get something,” she told him. Peter turned to Kira.

  “You’re a friend of Meredith's, I take it?”

  “Kira.”

  “Peter.” He shook her hand. Meredith could tell he was charming her. “Do you think, Kira, that the artist should be buying her own drinks tonight?”

  “Absolutely not,” Kira agreed.

  “The problem is that I don’t know what she normally drinks. It’s not something we think to ask in the interview. Can you give me a hand here?”

  “IPA,” she told him, which, Meredith knew, was Kira's favorite beer, not hers.

  “Guinness,” Meredith coughed into her hand.

  “A Guinness for the artist, and an IPA for her friend.” Peter set off for the bar.

  It wasn’t lost on Meredith that most of the table had heard Peter say he didn’t know what Meredith drank. She could almost feel them digesting the news.

  David appeared at her elbow and gave her a hug. “Jesus.” He told her. “Why in the world are you working as a software engineer?”

  Mike Pederson showed up behind Kira and gave her a bear hug. He seemed really to like her, but Meredith knew some guys just came off that way. They were the real heartbreakers, leading you into love without even realizing what they were doing.

  “Meredith,” he announced, after kissing Kira hello, “the artist.” His head swiveled around the room. “Freaky. You’re not going to rip my heart out, are you?”

  “Is my work scary?” Meredith asked Kira over Mike’s shoulder.

  “Just for insecure males,” Kira assured her. Meredith smiled. She felt good, with her paintings all together, just within her peripheral vision. She knew Mike would never say anything, and she didn’t want to miss her chance, so as he released her she said, “How’s Ben doing?” with only a trace of self-pity in her voice.

  Mike’s face became very neutral. “I haven’t talked to him myself lately. I hear from others that he’s doing real well.”

  Real well. Meredith wondered what those two words meant. She knew it wasn’t fair to ask Mike if Ben ever mentioned her. A woman would tell her everything she knew, but men were too tight-lipped.

  Peter came up with their beers. Meredith introduced Mike, wondering if that would get back to Ben. “Yeah, some guy was buying her beers. Peter or something.” There was still a shot that Ben would come tonight. True, it was a long shot. Not a shot at all, she acknowledged.

  Kira squeezed her arm. “This is your night,” she whispered. “Your paintings are covering the walls. Don’t squander a single moment on what you’re thinking about right now.”

  Meredith hugged her. “You’re awesome,” she told her. “And you read me like a book.”

  “Meredith!” Rachel had arrived. Meredith had barely introduced her around when Sarah and Victor came in.

  “Victor’s real calling is hanging,” Meredith told Sarah while Victor was in earshot. “He’s the reason this show looks so good.”

  “I haven’t seen you since the wedding,” Peter interrupted by hugging Sarah. He shook Victor’s hand. “Congratulations. You’re a lucky man.”

>   “Meredith, what’s the meaning of the tattoo on that woman’s leg?” Charlene led her to the back corner, where a group of her co-workers had knitted around her painting, called “Gold in Heart.”

  She followed Charlene to the corner. “It’s about the things in your life, good or bad, that you just have to learn to live with.”

  “I like that landscape over there,” one of the group told her. “I’ve got to come back with my husband to look at it in daylight.”

  Meredith spent the evening letting herself be pulled from person to person, trying to give everyone sufficient attention. In the first hour, Doug stopped by.

  “Kira told me,” he said, hugging her in an awkward, formal way. “I had to see.” He spent more time just looking at the pieces than anyone else did that night. When he’d made the circuit, he came to her and took her around, pointing out all the things he liked. “You’re unafraid,” he said. He didn’t stay long and Meredith was both relieved to see him go and moved that he’d come.

  Peter kept supplying her with drinks until she switched to seltzer. Then he brought her glasses of white fizzy water with limes or lemons floating just below the surface.

  “He’s a doll,” Kira recanted after Mike had left. “Get him if you can.” She was drunk.

  “He’s my boss.”

  “I know what I said but I take it all back. Why didn’t you tell me how good looking he is?”

  Kira drank so much, and Meredith had stopped so early, that the evening ended with Meredith driving Kira home and then herself in Kira's car.

  As she lay in bed with Mendra, her ears still ringing from the noise, she replayed the events over and over like a favorite video. The sadness of Ben’s absence was diminished by all the people who had been there. She remembered how it felt, seeing that unexpected support from work. She was surprised by how many people cared about her. She both cringed at the memory of everyone standing to clap and relished the event like she’d won an Oscar. But when all was said and done, her favorite part of the entire night the two words Doug had uttered upon seeing her work. “You’re unafraid.” You’re unafraid. She fell asleep with those words burned into the back of her eyelids.