Emily & Einstein (30 page)

But when I came around another curve and saw still more hill, my adrenaline deserted me. My muscles burned, my lungs were on fire, and I staggered to a stop, bending over at the waist, trying to catch my breath. For half a second I let it get to me. Then I straightened, walked to the top, and started running down the other side.

I can do it. I just can’t do it yet.

I returned to the Dakota exhausted but determined. When I walked into the apartment the smell of coffee hit me. Dripping sweat, I found Jordan sitting at the counter reading the paper, a cup of coffee in front of her, Einstein eating breakfast from his bowl in the corner.

“Hey,” Jordan said. “I figured you were running, so I took E out. Then fed him.”

There was no animosity in her voice, no sarcasm.

“Thanks; that’s great.”

I glanced at the clock, thinking that somehow it must be later than I thought for my sister to be awake. But no, it was only six-thirty in the morning.

Einstein looked up at me, gave me that smile of his, before returning to finish off his food.

If my body hadn’t been riddled with endorphins, I would have given into suspicion that these two were suddenly getting along. As it was, I squinted at Jordan in concern when she got up and poured me a cup of coffee.

“What?” she said, extending the mug.

“Who are you, and what have you done with my sister?”

I took a shower and returned to find Jordan sitting on the floor with the newspaper spread around her. Einstein sat next to her squinting his eyes, cocking his head as he tried to make out whatever she was reading.

“I thought maybe we could do something today,” Jordan said.

Tension flared over the book Jordan was supposed to be writing. As far as I was concerned, she had no business doing anything but sitting in front of the computer and pounding out our mother’s story.

The sister in me did battle with the editor. In the end, the decision was made for me.

My BlackBerry buzzed on the counter.
REAGER
,
MAX
flashed in the readout.

My feelings must have shown because both Jordan and Einstein gave me a strange look.

“Who is it?”

“A neighbor. A guy who’s been helping me with some stuff.”

I said the words as casually as I could since the last thing I wanted was for anyone to know that I couldn’t stop thinking about Max.

“Aren’t you going to answer?” Jordan asked.

I hesitated a second more. “Hello?”

“Come to the Hamptons with me.”

“The Hamptons?”

Jordan leaped up. “We’re invited to the Hamptons?”

I covered the mouthpiece. “Be quiet. And no, you are not invited to the Hamptons.”

“Who’s that?” he asked.

“My sister. She’s in town. Staying with me.”

“I’d like to meet her.”

“Ah, well—”

“Get her to come with us. It’s just for the day. I have to leave in a few minutes, drive a bunch of stuff out to my sister’s place.”

“I can’t really.”

“Emily!” Jordan said.

“Yeah, Emily,” Max repeated. “We’ll drop off the stuff at Melanie’s, then we’ll have a picnic on the beach before we drive back.”

“All in a day?”

“If we leave in the next thirty minutes, we’ll beat the traffic,” he said. “And coming back will be a piece of cake because no one will be returning to town this afternoon. Come on, it’s Saturday. It’ll be fun.”

I hesitated, then walked away from my sister and my dog. “What about your girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?”

“The woman you were with in your apartment.” I felt foolish.

I swear I could feel his smile over the airwaves.

“Roni? She’s a friend in town looking for an apartment with her boyfriend.” I could almost hear him smile widen. “Now will you come with me?”

“But I’d feel bad leaving Einstein alone on a Saturday.”

He just laughed. “Then bring him too.”

*   *   *

Barely half an hour later, Einstein, Jordan, and I climbed into a shiny, four-door black Jeep in the parking garage next to the Dakota. Max shut my door then jogged around to the driver’s side.

“Ready?”

He wore cargo shorts, a faded blue T-shirt, flip-flops, and sports sunglasses. His hair, barely dry from the shower, was brushed back. He was gorgeous.

Jordan and Max hit it off from the start. They laughed and talked about music and blogs and an assortment of popular culture things that I had never heard of. Why I didn’t feel awkward or jealous, I couldn’t say, but I didn’t. I was thrilled that the two of them got along.

The only one of us in the car who was standoffish was Einstein. The minute we walked up to Max, E stiffened, his nose in the air sniffing. He swung his head back and forth between Max and me, then shook his head as if to negate whatever it was he had smelled and let Jordan pick him up when she hopped into the backseat of the Jeep.

“This is an embarrassment,” Jordan announced two hours later as we turned off the Montauk Highway and headed into the Hamptons. “How did I forget what a bourgeois nightmare this place is?”

Max laughed, putting up his hand to give her a high five. “I tell my sister that all the time.”

His sister’s house in Southampton was a lovely two-story clapboard and cedar shingle cape on a tree-lined street. It didn’t take us any time at all to unload the boxes.

“Melanie’s redoing the place and didn’t trust anyone else to bring these out.” Max pointed to a box and grimaced. “Handblown glass.”

Once the glass was packed away, we loaded back up then made our way into the heart of Southampton for a picnic lunch. With food, sodas, and water in tow, we headed down Main to Gin Lane and parked in a sprawling lot that we may or may not have been allowed to park in.

After Jordan and Einstein raced ahead, Max hung back with me. On the long sandy path that led to the ocean, I kicked off my sandals and felt the sand between my toes. Max didn’t take my hand, but our arms brushed as we made our way through the low dunes and came out on the beach.

Jordan had run forward, splashing into the tide up to her knees. Einstein followed as far as the waterline, then stopped and stood there, raising his muzzle, sniffing the air, taking in the sun and ocean. In that second, he seemed at home, at peace, as if he had returned to a place that he loved. Which should have seemed ridiculous, but with Einstein strange things no longer seemed so strange.

Like Einstein, I tipped my face up to the sun, feeling as if I could fly.

“It feels good,” Max said.

“Yes.” Like the sand between my toes. “I can’t remember feeling this … carefree in a long time. Thank you.”

“It’s the knight thing. Lancelot’s got nothing on me.”

When I glanced at him his smile made me laugh, out loud, with a wonderful abandon. “If you’re not careful, next you’re going to make me giggle.”

He slanted me a wry look. “Like a schoolgirl?”

Which made me do just that.

Together we spread out the blanket he had brought, along with the lunch. It was noon and the four of us didn’t waste a minute polishing off every last bite we had purchased at the sandwich shop, including the plain grilled chicken we had gotten for Einstein.

When we were done, Max pulled off his shirt. If he had been gorgeous before, he was stunning now.

“Who wants to go in?” He looked at me.

That got my attention. “No thanks.”

Jordan laughed. “She’s not much for the water. But I’m game.”

She pulled off her own shirt. Underneath she had on a bikini. She wasn’t the least bit self-conscious about her pudgy stomach or lily white skin. Max kicked off the cargo shorts and revealed very distinct gym shorts.

“Get out,” Jordan said. “You’re military?”

“Navy.”

She debated for a second, then shrugged. “Oh well.”

They ran toward the water. Einstein leaped up and raced after them, coming to a screeching halt when a wave rushed up on the beach. Frustrated, he raced back and forth, barking, then stopping, hanging his head as if he couldn’t believe what he was doing, only to leap up to race again, snapping at the air.

I put the remnants of lunch away, then stretched out in the sand, closing my eyes and feeling the sun beat down on me. I don’t know how much time passed, but I surfaced from my thoughts when I felt water dripping on me.

I came up on my elbows to find Max standing over me, Jordan and Einstein walking down the beach together.

“Where are they going?”

“To scope things out.”

“Maybe I should get Einstein.”

He chuckled. “He can take care of himself. He’s one weird dog.”

I opened my mouth to protest.

“But smart,” he said, dropping down on his knees in front of me. “It’s like he’s almost human.” He shook his head. “Yep, weird. But even weirder, it’s like he’s all about being proud and great, or something.” He shook his head. “It sounds crazy.”

“I know what you mean. When I first got the job at Caldecote I worked on a book about great men. Einstein has a way of making me remember it.”

“Who were the great men?”

I thought back. “Da Vinci, Mozart, even Tiger Woods, which surprised me. But what was really amazing was how the author went into these other guys, contemporaries or counterpoints to the great ones.”

“Like who?”

“Turns out that Botticelli apprenticed in the same workshop as Leonardo, and a guy named Salieri had a lot more opportunities than Mozart. Even Phil Mickelson, another golfer, came up through the ranks with Tiger. They are all guys who did well, even became famous to some degree. But it’s da Vinci, Mozart, and probably Tiger Woods who will go down in history as the great ones. Though I guess it remains to be seen what happens with Tiger now.”

Max rolled to the side and sat next to me. “It makes you wonder,” he said, “why is it that Botticelli and Salieri aren’t the ones who became larger than life? Were they not as good? Did they not want it as much? Or did something get in their way?”

I jerked my head around to look at him. “Exactly!”

I felt the shift in Max as he crossed his arms on his knees. We sat side by side, looking out over the water, at ease. “But what really got me,” I said quietly, “was that when anyone thinks of important names in the women’s movement, they think of Gloria Steinem or Betty Freidan. After I finished editing that manuscript, it was the first time I asked myself why people didn’t think of my mother.”

He didn’t respond, just looked out. It wasn’t until we were back in Manhattan, Jordan and Einstein jumping out and bolting for the curb, that Max stopped me from getting out of the Jeep.

“There are many measures of success,” he said. “No question being great at something is one of them. But I’ve got to believe,” he added, slipping his fingers around my neck, pulling me to him, “that surviving is another.” Then he kissed me just as he had on the rooftop, though this time it was a kiss that promised so much more.

“Remember that,” he said against my mouth.

Too soon he pulled away, then reached across me and popped my door open.

“Thanks for keeping me company today.”

*   *   *

Ruth’s Intention
came out the following Tuesday.

Birdie wheeled into my office. “Today’s the day! This is so great. I can’t wait to see Victoria’s face when Nate has to announce that
Ruth
hit the
Times
list!”

For a week, my stomach stayed lodged in my throat. For a week, I checked in with sales every day. For a week, I checked Amazon and BN.com rankings with a regularity that bordered on obsession. But on the following Wednesday, despite everything we had done, it was clear
Ruth’s Intention
wasn’t selling.

“It’s a crime!” Birdie bleated.

Tatiana scowled.

Victoria smirked.

The next week,
Ruth
sold a few copies, but in bursts and spurts in odd corners around the country, not nearly enough to achieve the kind of success Tatiana had counted on. No one was happy, with the exception of Victoria who made all the right noises, but I saw her do the Rocky air pump when she thought no one was looking.

Since our drive out to Long Island, Jordan had been happy. For days I came home to find the table set and dinner ready. When I entered the kitchen Jordan held up wooden spoons filled with exotic fare she had learned to cook in the jungle. Frequently Max joined us. He never touched me in front of my sister or Einstein, but I always knew he was aware of me, and while we talked and laughed I anticipated the moment when he would tug me away from them and run his lips along my skin.

But I could hardly concentrate.

Over dinner one night I finally admitted the mess that had happened with
Ruth’s Intention.
Jordan commiserated, then surprised me when she opened up about her own manuscript. She didn’t let me read any of her new pages, but I contented myself with the fact that she was telling me what she was doing with the kind of excitement my sister rarely showed.

In the mornings, I rolled out of bed determined to conquer the upper park loop. If I couldn’t run it without stopping, how did I ever think I had it in me to run a marathon? But each morning I couldn’t make it up to the top of Heartbreak Hill.

On the following Friday I decided that this was my last chance. If I could make it to the top, it was a sign that I could run the marathon.

I felt a shiver of apprehension at the thought. I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen to me if
Ruth
failed
and
I wasn’t strong enough to achieve my goal of running the marathon?

You are strong, Emily,
I told myself.
This is just another challenge that you’ll get through.

The sun was barely a hint when I started out, painting strokes of red and orange into the blue-black sky. I didn’t take in the sights; I didn’t think about work. I focused and made it up Cat Hill easily.

I kept going, aware of nothing but my footfalls, and before I knew it I hit Heartbreak Hill on the backside of the park. The initial incline wasn’t bad and I made it around the first curve ignoring the tightness that started in my legs.