Someday Maybe

by Ophelia London

Why would Oliver leave his awesome job? Okay, so I didn’t know how awesome his job was, but it seemed stable and he was always busy, and being relied upon because you’re responsible and good at what you do was a kind of awesome. So why? Didn’t he know eighty percent of small businesses failed in the first year? Why would he knowingly do something without a plan for the future or a…

  Oh. My pounding heart took a dive.

  Oliver was still that nineteen-year-old who didn’t have a care in the world. Pick a major, or don’t; it doesn’t really matter. Go to this school, go to that school. Quit your job, start a company. Move in with Rachel, let her walk away.

  I pumped my arms faster, fueled by betrayal I knew was irrational and unfair, but it was still there.

  “Where’d ya go?” Nick asked as I was about to sprint right past him.

  “Oh, uh, yellow.” I displayed the front of my tank top as explanation for my lagging behind, and not that I’d allowed Oliver to put his arm around me and laugh with me and touch my face. What was my problem? I normally wasn’t a glutton for punishment, so why was I hell-bent on making the same mistake of wanting a guy who wasn’t right for me? And my best friend was totally into him, and I was trying to get over him, and I had this amazing guy—right here, right now—interested in me. Just because Oliver and I’d had another moment at the restaurant last night didn’t mean I should screw everything up.

  “Ah, yes, yellow.” Nick smiled and we jogged in silence until we caught up with the others. Our group made its way through the center of the shady street of downtown Pasadena, nearing the finish line.

  “I’m covering the LA/Dallas game Saturday night,” Nick said to me. “Should be a good matchup.”

  Meghan jogged a few feet ahead of me beside Oliver, her ponytail looking like something out of Rainbow Brite. I kept my eyes glued on her, still unable to shake last night’s dream, how real it had felt. But then I thought about what Ryan had told me, and I couldn’t stop my eyes from roaming Oliver’s way. I didn’t know what to make of it or of him. My legs were tired and my burning lungs were ready to burst and I couldn’t think straight about anything.

  “Yeah, should be a good game,” I replied to Nick, picking up my pace so we were directly behind them. I wanted to grab Oliver by the elbow and demand answers. But I couldn’t think of even one question.

  Nick kept talking. “You lived in Dallas for a while.”

  “Yeah.”

  “You went to many Mavericks games?”

  “Sure.” Whenever Meghan laughed, she bumped her shoulder against Oliver’s. She swatted his arm a lot, too, and she was constantly grabbing him. Was she always so touchy?

  “Aren’t you an NBA fan?”

  “Sure.” Oliver hooked an arm around Meghan’s shoulder as they laughed.

  “You should come with me.”

  Now Megs had her arm around him. I inhaled sharply, extremely winded, glad the finish line was only a few yards ahead.

  “Yeah. Maybe.” I stared at Meghan’s bouncing ponytail and wondered if it was always so springy and stupid.

  Nice, Rach. Way to be a friend. Now stop thinking about him. Just stop.

  “Hey, slow pokes.” Sarah met us at the other end of the finish line. I think it was Sarah—she was so covered in colored cornstarch that I couldn’t make out her features. “We finished before half the runners, so the party’s not for another twenty. Want to check out the water hazard over there?”

  “Totes!” Meghan jumped up and down, clapping. She was still so full of energy, it made me want to take a nap.

  “That’s not a water hazard.” I followed behind the rest of the group, working out the stitch in my side. My feet, and parts of my heart, felt like they were full of led. “It’s a fountain, part of the campus. We’re not supposed to be over here. See the barricades?”

  “It’s glorious.” Meghan sprinted ahead of us. “Isn’t this the most gorgeous weather? If it rains tonight, all my wishes will come true.” The cement ledge of the fountain was knee-high and looked like a large reflecting pool. Meghan jumped onto the ledge, lifted up on one sneakered toe, and twirled around. “Just look at those lovely clouds!” Her chin lifted as she whirled in another ballerina-type spin. “Rad? Didn’t you tell me this is how the sky looks in Hong Kong right before it rains?”

  “Something like that,” he said, though I could only see the back of his head.

  The closer I got, the fountain looked more like an Olympic-sized swimming pool. The thing was huge. It probably wasn’t very deep, but Meghan definitely shouldn’t be doing a Britney Spears dance routine on the high ledge.

  “Megs, be careful.”

  “What?”

  “Rachel?” Nick was at my elbow again. Or had he been there the whole time. “Were you listening?”

  “No, I wasn’t.” I half-turned his way while still watching Meghan’s little dance. I couldn’t help envying her fearless inhibition.

  “Rachel.” Nick took my arm and slowed my pace. “I said I think you should come with me.”

  I blinked a few times and looked at him, really looked at him. “Sorry. Where?”

  “Dallas.” His hand cupped my elbow and we slowed again. “The game’s Saturday and you’ll be back in San Francisco Sunday night.” He lifted a small, intriguing grin. “Come with me. Two days, just you.”

  Before I could reply, Oliver stopped dead in his tracks and spun around. I couldn’t tell which of us he was focused on because of his sunglasses, but when he whipped them off, it was pretty clear he was looking at me.

  Mostly so I wouldn’t run him over, I stopped walking, too, and so did Nick. Oliver stared at me, Nick stared at him. I didn’t know where I was supposed to look.

  “Rad?” Meghan’s lilting voice swirled around us. “Rad? I said, do you dare me?”

  “Seriously, Rachel?” Oliver’s words sounded like a growl. “You’d go with him to Dallas before you even talk to me?”

  The nerve. I growled right back. “Are you quitting your job?”

  He blinked and blue powder drifted from his lashes. “What?”

  “Are you?”

  “Hey…do you dare me, Rad?”

  Oliver put his hands on his hips. “I don’t know yet, Rachel. Probably.”

  “Yeah.” I scoffed. “You do that.”

  “What does it matter—”

  “Have you thought it through at all? Or is this another thing you’ll decide when you feel like it?” When he didn’t respond, I added, “And yes, I’m going to Dallas.”

  Oliver’s eyes narrowed but didn’t move from mine.

  Until the splash.

  Meghan was at the bottom of the fountain.

  Sarah screamed, Oliver swore, and we raced toward the water where Meghan had sunk like a stone. A moment later there was a second splash as Ryan jumped in after her. He disappeared immediately over the high ledge. The water looked about three feet deep, but when he pulled her to the surface, Meghan’s eyes were closed and her forehead was bleeding.

  “She’s not breathing,” he panted.

  “Pull her out!” I shouted, images of last night’s dream shrieking through my mind. “Hurry!”

  “Pull her out!” Oliver’s voice echoed mine.

  “No stairs.” Ryan grunted to his feet, holding Meghan in his arms. The water was getting deeper. “Edge is too high.” Without another word, he sloshed his way toward the other side where the ledge dipped down.

  Oliver was shouting to 911 through his cell while a crowd of helpless, rainbow-colored onlookers headed our way. The bridge to the other side seemed too great a distance, especially with my leg muscles shaky and spent. By then, the medical crew from the race sprinted toward the fountain. It was better to wait where we were.

  “He’s giving her mouth-to-mouth,” Nick reported. “He used to be a lifeguard.” Sarah came up behind me, wedging herself between Nick and me. Oliver put a hand on my elbow, then his arm went around my shoulders.

  After what seemed like a million years,
I heard the most wonderful sound of gasping. “Is she okay?” I called across the fountain.

  “She’s breathing,” Ryan called back. He leaned over Meghan again. “Now she’s swearing like a sailor.”

  I covered my mouth with both hands, stifling my combination laugh/sob. Just as I felt I was about to break into hysterics, Oliver’s other arm pulled me to his chest, holding me so close I almost couldn’t breathe.

  “It’s okay.” He ran one hand down my back, his other hand cupping my head. “She’s okay, Rach.”

  Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed as hard as I could.

  Part Two

  “She hoped to be wise and reasonable in time; but alas! Alas! She must confess to herself that she was not wise yet.”

  ~Jane Austen’s PERSUASION

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The castle is closer; practically in full view. But why am I alone? I’m not supposed to be alone. The patch of grass where I had once seen Meghan’s lifeless body is grown over, as though it’s been years. I clutch the shoulder strap of my trusty knapsack and make a beeline toward those lofty spirals.

  “Faster,” someone whispers. “It won’t be here forever.” I recognize the voice. This is the first time he’s appeared in one of my dreams.

  “I am going faster,” I reply to Nick, who is now walking beside me. “But the grass is too tall.”

  “It’s not the grass that’s slowing you.” When I look down, I am standing knee-deep in the middle of a lagoon. Cattails, ferns, and water lilies cover the four banks that surround me.

  “It’s getting deeper,” I say and stop walking, grateful to finally have someone to talk to. “What next?”

  Nick puts his hands on my shoulders and turns me away from him. “You’re asking the wrong person.”

  “It’s not him.” It’s a new voice now. “Not Nick.”

  Someone from the shore throws me a white life ring. It easily slips over my head. “Just hold on and I’ll pull you in,” the new voice calls. I hold on with both hands. My fingers must be wrinkled and pruny by now. One minute, the water was knee-deep, and the next it’s over my head. I don’t even know which direction to swim. So I tread water. I pant, knowing it has been too long and relieved that the life ring was offered by the formless, faceless stranger. I am dragged to a set of cement stairs leading up and out of the mossy lake. When I reach the top, I don’t cough or sputter because I am not short of breath or injured in any way. In fact, my heart is light, my mind is alert. I have never felt better.

  The last of March’s winter melted from the tree branches. Not quite full-on spring yet, but the excitement of newness and rebirth and change was definitely on the horizon. I wheeled my office chair to the mouth of my cube entrance, so I could look out the walls of windows. The morning sky was gray and dull—not matching my mood.

  Nick cracked a joke and I laughed. It wasn’t the funniest pun around, but he was a sweet guy and deserved a girl to laugh. We were on the phone confirming plans. Tonight, his flight would land at SFO at 7:00 p.m.

  Weird how things could just…work out. Nick was buddies with Oliver, and he’d be crashing at Oliver’s place over the long weekend. But Nick wasn’t coming to San Francisco to hang out with his college buddy. He was coming for me.

  The morning after Meghan’s accident in Pasadena, he left for Dallas alone. With so much on my mind, I couldn’t remember saying good-bye to him. Two days later he called.

  And fairly regularly after that for the next two months.

  He was smart and he made me laugh and I felt good when I thought about him. Without much of an effort on my part, he was growing on me, wrapping around my limbs like ivy. With no other weeds in my garden as competition, I’d become his willing post.

  Oliver and I never had that talk. Why should I bother? Krikit was right. I needed to forgive myself for childish mistakes and move on—the mistake of lying to him, not of breaking up. He’d stayed in Pasadena until the end of the week. One night at the hotel, he tried to get me alone, but I had no intention of hearing about his big plans to squander his future. It was his life.

  Meghan’s injury wasn’t too serious, though serious enough to keep her in Ryan’s bedroom after she was released from her overnight stay at the ER. Ryan managed to drill it into her impressionable head that it was her dietary lifestyle that caused her body to go into shock and not properly absorb the stun of the fall into the water. Despite his doting bedside manner and overwhelming devotion toward his patient, our friends in San Francisco were surprised when word traveled north that they were in love. Though I already knew—Meghan could never keep even the smallest details a secret from me.

  “You should see her now.” Nick chuckled. “I didn’t know her very well before, but from what you’ve told me, she’s a changed woman.”

  I twirled the phone cord around one finger. “I know.” I laughed back. “Whenever I talk to Megs, it’s all about macrobiotic and fiber and whatever scientific study Ryan’s working on. She sounds so…calm.” I slumped in my seat as Bruce stomped past my cubical, trailed by a string of his expletives.

  His lurking and stomping and swearing didn’t bother me as much as it usually did. Maybe because I’d heard back from three of the companies I’d sent resumes to. I’d also written a few more short stories to go with my tale of the running trail. I might just have a series on my hands. I now had options I hadn’t had before. And that was empowering.

  “Megs is playing this role pretty close to the vest,” I continued to Nick, “but I can tell she’s never been happier.”

  “Ryan, too.” There was a smile in Nick’s voice. I could picture it. Such a nice smile.

  “I have to go now. See you tonight.”

  “Yes, you will.” That smile again.

  I smoothed down my collar, then slid on some of Gio’s jangly bracelets to complete my outfit. Nick would be here any minute. I didn’t try to stifle the flutter this thought caused. I relished it.

  “Hey, Trouble,” Roger said with a big smile, his shoulder propped against my open bedroom door.

  “Hey, Double.”

  “So, how does this work?” He crossed his arms. “Do I answer the door when he knocks or make myself scarce? I don’t have a shotgun, but I can improvise.”

  “Funny. Stay and meet him. You should.”

  He leaned against my dresser. “Is it serious? I thought you two were just talking on the phone.”

  I caught his reflected eye in the mirror. “We’re talking seriously.”

  Roger chuckled. “Got it. Do you want me to stay out of the apartment tonight?”

  “We’re not coming back here to…if that’s what you mean.” I tried not to feel completely mortified by talking about the subject with my brother. “We’re going to dinner then he’s bringing me home and staying at Oliver’s.”

  Roger’s eyebrows shot up. “Oliver Wentworth? That’s where your boyfriend is staying?”

  I toyed with my bracelets, fixated on the word boyfriend. It was way too early for that label, but it did sound nice for future reference. “Yes.”

  “Awkward.”

  I eyed his reflection, not needing to ask him why. Roger was privy to enough of our history to know it was going to be horribly awkward for me, thank you. But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction to tease me about it. Plus, I was a grown-up, dang it.

  He dipped his chin and chuckled.

  “Don’t be a doodoohead,” I said. “Nick’s known Oliver way longer than he’s known me. There’s nothing awkward.”

  Roger did stop laughing, slid his hands in his pockets, and looked at the floor. “Listen, Rach, there’s something you should know. A few months ago, I ran into him—Wentworth.”

  This was not news to me. “At Tim Olson’s party the night I was stuck at work.” I exhaled, completely unaffected. “I know.”

  “Before then. I knew he was here before you moved back. I knew he was hanging out with Meghan.”

  I pushed out a dark
chuckle, recalling that extremely awkward scene on the jogging trail, me loafing on the grass with crazy hair and zombie-girl makeup, being completely blindsided at the sight of my gorgeous ex.

  “Gee, Roger, a little warning back then might’ve been nice.”

  “Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I left you a voicemail about it, but I should’ve followed up with you.”

  “Oh.” My mind flashed to that second, “Rach, we have to talk,” moment. “I got your voicemail, but I thought I’d hallucinated that part of the message so I deleted it.”

  “Do you often hallucinate voicemails?”

  “I think you’re missing the point.”

  He sighed and sat on the edge of my bed. “He’s not a bad guy.”

  “He wasn’t a bad guy in college, either. You barely got to know him.” I whirled around, the past falling in on me before I could stop it. “One dinner and your mind was made up that he wasn’t good enough for me.”

  “I never said that.”

  “Yes, you did, when you showed up at my dorm the next morning.”

  He shook his head. “You’re rewriting history, Rach. I never said that because I never thought that about him. I was worried about you.”

  I didn’t want to rehash this. Not tonight.

  “But I was even more worried afterward,” my brother said. “You were a mess.”

  Well, it was nice to know someone actually noticed.

  “I blamed myself for a long time.”

  The words, “Good—you should!” sat on the tip of my tongue, but I couldn’t speak them because they weren’t true. I closed my eyes and sighed, then sat beside him, pushing back memories, reeling them in again.

  “It wasn’t your fault. I didn’t handle things well back then. I had this…hang-up.” I laughed darkly, remembering how I’d yelled at Oliver in the middle of the color run. “Apparently, I’ve still got it. But I didn’t know how to talk to Oliver about it. Instead, I ignored it and kept falling in love with him.”

  Roger shifted on the bed. He didn’t want to rehash this, either, but the time had come.

  “It was always there, though, the fear that he wasn’t right for me in the long run. When I was with him, I couldn’t balance our relationship with my goals. You remember how close I came to failing that semester?”