Cape May (20 page)

The elevator stopped at the eleventh floor and she stepped out, slowly heading towards her apartment. She’d only been away a few days, yet the hallway looked and felt different, as if some reality show had swooped in the minute
she left, just those few days ago, and smashed walls, relocated
doorways, painted, and changed lighting fixtures. She half expected some overly enthusiastic former athlete or C-list actor to jump out with a camera crew to document her flabbergasted reaction to the changes. She stopped, overcome by a memory of being seventeen and visiting a beloved third grade teacher back at the elementary school. She’d felt like a giant next to the kids. It seemed impossible that she had ever physically fit into the building, that it had ever been
her
school. That was how it felt now. That despite having lived on this floor, in this building, almost twenty years, she no longer belonged. Or even worse, she was no longer welcome.

The suddenly alien keys, on a bunch of key chains lovingly collected and added over the years, fell to the floor. When she picked them up they wouldn’t stop shaking until she used one hand to steady the other. The door unlocked.
Archie meowed, rubbing against her leg, and she was
relieved to see him, something familiar, something warm and loving in this now strange atmosphere. At the sound of the door closing, Brian came out of his office. Although it was late afternoon, he was still in his robe. Her normally clean husband looked awful, his robe stained, and himself unwashed. He hadn’t shaved. The apartment was a mess, too, with dirty dishes on the coffee table, DVDs out of their cases on the floor, and stuff all over.

She said, “You okay?”

His voice was raspy when he answered, as if he hadn’t uttered a word since she left. “That’s a stupid question, coming from you.”

She just stood there, her throat tightening, her stomach a stormy mess. What could she say? Words couldn’t repair this.

He waved his arm, trying to explain. “I shouldn’t’ve said that.”

“No. I understand.”

“No, you don’t. You can’t. Jo, this whole time you’ve been away. I kept thinking of you, picturing you, seeing you with him. I’ve never done that before. I mean, I’ve never not trusted you.”

She wanted to say she was sorry but those words sounded
hollow even in her head. And they wouldn’t have scratched the surface of his hurt.

He continued. “Now you’re buying a house. But I don’t know where we are, together. How we’re gonna be. Making me leave New York and everything.”

“No,” she said, mobilized, taking off her jacket, and putting down her keys. “I had an idea. We should keep this apartment for you.”

“How? Why?”

“You love it, and Manhattan, more than I do. This could be your pied-à-terre.”

“And I’m supposed to be happy about this? Gee, it makes me feel really secure about our future together, Jo,” he said, and went back into the office, but not before she saw he was crying.

***

After another night on the couch, Joanna lied and told Brian she had to go to work. She did plan on quitting in person later that day. First, she needed to go and talk to Michael. She left the apartment and headed toward the subway, in case somehow Brian was hanging out of the living room window watching her. Instead of going into the subway station, she walked downtown. A niche between two buildings offered a quiet place from which to call Michael. It smelled of urine and she didn’t care. Would he even answer when he saw her caller ID? If he did answer, would it be to just curse at her and hang up? If he did that, she wouldn’t blame him.

“Hi. It’s Joanna.” He didn’t say anything. “Are you there?”

“Yes.”

“Can I come see you?”

“Why?”

“Please. I need to talk to you.” More silence. “Please.”

“If you think you can manage to keep the appointment.”

He hung up.

As Joanna walked there, her level of dread climbed. By the time she was in front of Michael’s building, she was
shaking and felt sick. He buzzed her in without saying a word.

This time he wasn’t at his door waiting for her. It broke her heart to think she’d never see that look of love and desire in his eyes again. She walked slowly towards his apartment, swallowed hard, and knocked, wary of how he would greet her after what he’d said on the phone. He opened the door, silently, barely making eye contact at first. He ushered her in, and shut the door. They stood there. Her eyes scanned his face. He looked older, all the hurt, anger, and rawness showing.

“You bought the house? You and Brian?” She nodded. “Why are you here? To rub salt in my wounds?”

“Please don’t hate me,” and tears came. “I couldn’t take that.”

“
You
can’t take it?”

She started to talk, trying to say she wanted to explain, but froze. He kept his distance. Finally, “Oh God, I missed you.” He said nothing. “Every minute I was in Cape May.” Her thoughts were so scrambled. “Monday, about Monday, and everything…now…I’m…”

“That was pretty cruel, you not showing up.”

“I didn’t know what to do.”

“And a text message?”

“I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

“That doesn’t help much. I didn’t know, I still don’t know, what the hell is going on with you. Us.”

Some tears slid down her cheek, and she wiped them away quickly, embarrassed. He was the one who had the right to be crying. But still he handed her a tissue.

He said, “I’ve missed you. Even after what happened Monday. And this week of hell. Even while I was hating you, or close to hating you.” There was an awkward pause. “Why are you here?”

She needed a moment before continuing. Looking
around his spotless apartment, she said, trying to make
any kind of conversation, “You must’ve gotten rid of a
hundred books.”

“Joanna.”

“It looks great. Bigger.”

“Joanna. Why are you here?”

“Could I have some tea?”

He put the kettle on, then said, “You look as unhappy as I feel. Go sit down.” He brought over the cup and honey and put them on the table in front of her. Seeing the sad, resigned look in her eyes made Michael go cold. For some stupid reason he had still held some hope.

She spoke slowly and carefully, like a drunk trying not to sound drunk. “Meeting you was the most unexpected, wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me.”

His heart dropped. “But…”

“It’s ripped my controlled established world apart.” She lowered her eyes, unable to meet his. “At first I thought maybe it was just something physical. I didn’t know I could feel so much, or want someone so much.”

He quickly wiped away a tear. “If my heart is about to be broken, again, can I get a hug first?” He leaned forward to take her in his arms. That simple embrace, just being touched by him, set her spinning. They kissed. It started out lightly but they couldn’t stop. They ended up horizontal on the couch, her leg wrapped around him, his hand sliding up her thigh.

Summoning every ounce of will power, she broke off the kiss, removed her leg, and stopped his hand, saying, “Michael, I can’t.”

They sat up.

“I can’t leave him.”

“You mean you don’t want to leave him.”

“Don’t want to. Can’t. I don’t know. What’s the difference. I know I want you. But there’s more to it than that.”

“Joanna, it’s the twenty-first century. People get divorced.”

“Other people.”

“You’re looking at one. Donna’s happier. I’m better off for it, too.”

“You said your divorce was awful, wasn’t it? Donna’s rejection was painful wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was painful, but I got over it and moved on. People do.”

“But he doesn’t deserve to be hurt like this. And I can’t stand feeling this guilty. It’s making me sick. He hates me. I need him to forgive me.”

“I don’t want him to forgive you if it means you have to spend the rest of your life with him.” He reached for her cup of tea, spilling some of it. He sipped. “I can imagine what you’ve been going through. This hasn’t been easy on me either. The guilt.” He drank some more of her tea. “Oh, I’m sorry. Do you want another cup?” She shook her head. He continued: “But I think we’re meant to be. From the moment you beat me at Scrabble.”

She shook her head. “We didn’t finish the game. You might’ve gotten another seven-letter word. Beaten the pants off me.”

“That’s incentive right there.”

“Michael, I wish things could be different. I swear it. But I can’t do it to Brian. I can’t.”

He sat forward, his clasped hands between his knees. “It’s almost comical: all those pointless dates I’ve been on, thinking maybe by the third date I’ll grow to like her, or maybe it’s okay that she’s not funny or we don’t have much in common, or maybe we’ll get closer if we sleep together. Then I meet you and bang! no doubts. So simple: I love you and I don’t want to waste another second of my life away from you. One slight problem…”

“Brian.” They were quiet for a long time. She took his hand and they just sat. Finally she attempted to explain: “You have to understand. To try to understand. He and I…we made a deal, to get married. I know couples fall out of love, but Brian and I weren’t in love. It was a partnership. Somehow it feels more sacred and unbreakable. And he does love me now. And he hasn’t done anything. He’s the same as he was before. Before Cape May. I can’t pull the rug out from under him. I can’t do it to him.”

“But you can do it to me?”

“I’d rather walk through fire. But don’t you see I have to put him before you, or me. I owe it to him.”

“Do you? I guess you do. You have history. He met you first.”

She could barely whisper, “Imagine if you and I had met when we were younger.”

“I was very different then. Cocky. Maybe you wouldn’t have liked me. Although I was rather handsome.”

“You’re rather handsome now.” She stood up, and picked up her purse. She couldn’t cry. She had to be strong.

“I wish we could’ve gone for another walk in the park,” his voice was raspy, “or sat at a restaurant together, just one more time.”

She said, “I wish we could’ve made love one more time.”

“I would’ve said that, but I didn’t want you to think I love you just for your body.” He tried to smile, so did she, but they failed. “Joanna, isn’t there something I can say to
make you…can’t you…wait…a month…” She shook her head.
“But I can see the wonderful life we could have together. Why can’t you?”

“It wouldn’t be wonderful. I’d be wracked with guilt. It would spoil what we’ve had. And that might be even worse than this.”

His voice cracked. “Nothing could be worse than this. Not seeing you again? I
like
you. God that sounds stupid.
But couldn’t we have lunch every once in a while? Just talk?”

She shook her head. “Michael, the truth is, I’m a weakling. I couldn’t see you without touching you, and wanting to be with you. And I’m a coward because the pain of missing you is easier for me to face then my conscience. At least it’s me hurting and not Brian.”

“I’m hurting, too.” He was immobilized on the couch.

“I know.”

“Please don’t leave me, Joanna,” Michael said. “Don’t end this.” He stood up and she ran into his arms. They hugged and kissed goodbye until she pulled away and ran out the door.

***

Joanna walked home. She couldn’t face the office. She was quitting anyway, so what difference did it make. What difference did anything make.

When she closed the apartment door, Archie greeted her and she picked him up. He was purring, happy to see her, and it was a small comfort. Brian came out of his office holding some papers and looking even worse than before.

“Why are you here?”

“I didn’t go to work,” she said.

“Why? Are you sick?”

“No. Not sick. I’ll go in tomorrow to talk to my boss.”

Brian waited.

Archie jumped out of her arms. “Brian, I’m asking you to forgive me…”

“Are you coming back? Coming home?”

She had prepared a speech of contrition, walking to the apartment from Michael’s, but all she could do was nod. He ran over to hug her.

“Oh, Jo,” he smiled, and cried, and kissed her. She barely
responded, just managing to lift her arms to embrace him. “It’s good to have you home. I’ll fix things. I’ll try harder.”

“Brian, I should be saying all this to you. I’m sorry for everything.”

“No. Stop…”

“But none of this was your fault.”

“Let’s just move on from here then. Back to the way things were. No. Better! I’ll move to Cape May with you, and try to settle in and help you run the bed and breakfast, and things’ll be better. Better.”

She nodded. “I may need some time.”

“Whatever you need. I understand. I’m so happy you’re back.”

“I’ll make us something to eat.”

“No! Let me take you out to lunch. To celebrate.”