Moondance (15 page)

“You will. You just haven’t met the right person.” Sophie had always
completely ignored Althea’s protests about children. Althea chose not to fight because Sophie was the only family she had. She also figured that Sophie’s feelings came from an honest place. After all, Sophie had lost a child of her own. Perhaps it was natural to want to fill that gap.

“You keep saying that and you’re wrong.”

“When I got pregnant with your brother, I never pictured myself wanting a child. Your father changed that.”

Althea felt the old anger building up. If Sophie saw it, she made no sign.

“This
George
,” Sophie said. “Would you do anything for him? To have him?”

“I don’t know about that.”

“You don’t know. Are you holding back with him?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I am.”

“With a soul mate, there can be no holding back.”

“Does George sound like my soul mate?”

“I think that you’re preventing yourself from finding out.” Althea was quiet.

“He’s married, Sophie.”

“If you’re soul mates, that doesn’t matter.”

“It’s kind of like love. It’s really intense. I don’t know, Sophie, it’s hard sometimes, I don’t even know if —”

“Althea, of course it’s hard. Love isn’t supposed to be easy.”

“Kevin was easy.”

“And we know how that ended up, don’t we?” Althea’s face flushed. “Real love is hard work, Althea. And it has to be intense to last.”

“Michelle doesn’t think so.”

“Well, Michelle doesn’t exactly live in the real world, does she? If this man is a soul mate, you’d want him enough to risk everything. If you’re holding back, fear is your only enemy — not his marriage.”

• • •

ALTHEA CLIMBED THE STAIRS to the upstairs apartment, the room spinning. The anger was old and deep. Anger that, at one time, almost destroyed her relationship with her mother. Anger that had driven her into Kevin’s arms.

As a red-head with a black step-father, Althea learned early about the accident that killed her real father and her brother, Gregg. Albert came along at a time when Sophie was completely devastated by the loss.
I wanted to die
, Sophie had told her.
Albert wouldn’t let me
.

When Althea was old enough to ask about her father, Sophie had offered tidbits of information. Her father wasn’t close to his family, so Sophie didn’t keep in touch with them. They were American and Sophie lived in the United States for a while, but she lost their pictures traveling back to Canada.

The information wasn’t enough for Althea. They used to fight about it a lot. Sophie never budged. Althea had finally stopped asking, but had never forgotten.

Althea surveyed her small apartment, her home away from home, a soft breath of air from the living room window caressing her cheek. She leaned against the window ledge and touched her nose to the glass, locking eyes with the moon, its silver hues swirling in luminous vanilla. Another puff of cool night air flowed over her face. The moon’s nebulous surface seemed alive and full of mystery to her. She thought about her conversation with Sophie. What they talked about. What they didn’t talk about. Her father. Her brother. The jagged spiral.

“Soul mates aren’t easy, Althea. Sometimes there are struggles, tests we must pass. Sometimes, that’s part of the challenge: to see if we’re ready for it.”

Althea recalled Sophie’s words with a round knot of fear. Was she afraid of the challenge? Was her own fear her worst enemy? Was she too scared to take control? Is that why she reacted to George the way she did last week? Was she giving up? She thought about Celia and Tomas and how happy they were. Their relationship looked easy, but she knew that it hadn’t always been that way. Maybe Sophie was right.

“Could you see yourself having a child with him?”

Althea had always been dead set against having children. So had Tori. Growing up, she and Tori used to talk about Althea’s brother, dying tragically, and Tori’s parents’ marriage ending in a messy divorce. Together, they wondered why anyone would put themselves through that.

For Althea, though, it was more serious than that. In the quiet moments when she told herself the truth, she felt a debilitating fear associated with becoming a mother. If she lived through the birth, it felt as if she might neglect her children, or forget to feed them.

Kevin had always wanted kids. His mother, a practicing Catholic, would ask candidly when they planned to marry and have children. Althea had quietly and intensely disliked her.
Maybe it was doomed from the beginning
, she thought.
Maybe she pushed Kevin away
. She couldn’t shake the guilty feeling, though it was completely illogical.

“Do you want a soul mate?” Sophie had asked. “Are you prepared to sacrifice everything for it?” Again Althea thought about George, their intellectual affinity, the stories she wrote for him, the sexual exhilaration.
Her future
. Why shouldn’t she have the money, the sophistication, the man to go along with that? If she was going to end up with someone, why should she settle for anything less? And even if George wasn’t the one, there was nothing else going on romantically for her right now, so why not spend time with him?
Because he’s the Devil
. Because he takes up space in your heart.

The moon beckoned and within herself she noticed a sweet pulling downward, a familiar sadness.
Longing
. But for what? She thought about Kevin, about their easy friendship that had ended in disaster, and then about the green-eyed man that smiled at her. She imagined this man searching for her on the streets in her neighborhood, in her dreams, in the moon. She imagined his face as she drifted, her longing a beacon, like the moon itself.

As she fell asleep that night, her last thoughts were not of George or Kevin or the green-eyed man. They were thoughts of coincidence, of dreams written in slumber yet not in life. Her last thought was that the man who was right for her — her soul mate — might also scare her so much that he’d bring her to her knees in terror.

chapter 21

THE PACE OF THE second year MBA program was a stark contrast to the first. During second year, Althea’s class spent as much time planning their illustrious futures as finishing their degrees. Students chose courses in their area of interest, whether marketing, strategy, finance or investing. Althea had specialized in marketing.

With much less group work and fewer logistics and egos to deal with, there was plenty of time for the job search. Each week, Althea attended networking cocktail receptions hosted by banks, investment companies, management consulting firms and others which courted MBA
grads with generous signing bonuses, and six-figure starting salaries.
By early March, the mood was electric.

Althea was waiting for Celia in Rotman’s meeting area, one eye on the front door and the other scanning a global marketing case she had to read for class the next morning. When Celia arrived, Althea hardly recognized her. She was wearing an ice-blue suit, pearls and black pumps. Her dark glossy hair was swept back from her face in long graceful waves.

“You look amazing.”

“This ’do cost me over three hundred bucks. And don’t ask me about the suit — let’s just say I got it at Holt’s. My credit card company worships the ground I walk on.” Althea grinned. Althea had also treated herself to a Yorkville salon cut, though she couldn’t afford it. This week, she also spent $
2
,500 she didn’t have on three suits and two shirts — an Anne Klein and a classic navy suit with a skirt and pants. And when she started working, she’d need quite a few more.

“Have you heard anything?” Althea asked.

“I have been
dying
tell you. Received an offer from McKinsey’s London office this morning. Topping one hundred and seventy grand, with the exchange, and a twenty-five grand signing bonus. Tomas’ referral didn’t hurt, but I think it was my arts background that cinched it.”

“Not bad. I heard that McKinsey liked artists. That’s fabulous.”

“They sure like Tomas. In Paris, he’s working harder than he ever has in his life, but he’s loving it. And the contacts he’s making, it’s unbelievable. Experience at McKinsey is like a golden passport. He’ll be able to go anywhere.”

“So will you, my dear.”

“You betcha,” Celia winked.

Althea laughed. She couldn’t wait to be out there making money. All the tears, the heartache, the hard work of the last two years were finally going to be worth it. It was exhilarating.

“When do you start?”

“May first. No rest for the weary. What about you?”

“I’ve been called back for three out of five interviews so far. Two consulting firms. Two more first interviews set up for next week.”

“Preferences?”

“I’m not sure yet. But you know, for me, geography isn’t an issue. At this point, money talks.”

“Good girl. One of us should be the object of a bidding war.”

Althea nodded. She glanced up to see George climbing the open, metal staircase toward his office. A slim woman with coarse dark hair and a tailored red dress was walking a bit too closely beside him. Althea had seen him with her before. His hand brushed her elbow, and Althea’s heart leapt. His eyes turned and he nodded at her, his smile slight and barely noticeable. She felt the familiar stir, rising like an electrical field, between her legs and over her shoulders. Then he quickly looked at Celia. Celia’s voice roused Althea from her stupor.

“He’s got to be an idiot to think I don’t know about the two of you,” Celia said as he disappeared to the second floor. Celia had never been George’s biggest fan but Althea was thankful she’d stayed off her back about it.

“That’s one way of putting it.”

A few weeks ago, George had stopped calling. It took her about a week to notice. At first, she didn’t really care. Then self-doubt crept in. What did she do? Was he avoiding her? Was there someone else? The dance between them had shifted.
Kevin wanting to see her to talk. Turning away from her sexual advance. Tori sounding sad and not saying why
.

Against her better judgment, she had called him. Each time she left a message, she would get off the phone buoyed because she knew that now the ball was in his court — there was nothing else she needed to do. Three days later, when he hadn’t called back, she felt alternately indifferent and desperate, finally understanding that he must have met someone else. Then she got angry. Two days later, she broke down and called again, rationalizing that she needed to get to the bottom of it, that anything was better than the limbo she was in.
If he had met someone, then so be it
. She just couldn’t bear the thought of leaving it open, not like
this
not again
, the panic rising like acid in the back of her throat, fear clutching at her heart
just like yesterday
.

Two weeks later, after receiving no response, she got caught up in the job search. A week after that, she stopped caring as much.

Then, after a month of not returning her calls, George called her at one in the morning. Eyes wide, she’d stared at the phone, not picking up, the jagged spiral in her head lighting up each time it rang. He never left a message. Instead of calling him back, she wrote him a letter.

Five days after that, he called her at midnight. She answered this time, and he said he was on his way to her studio, and described how he wanted her to wait for him. This time, she was ready for him, and when he got there, she was waiting for him, fully clothed.

When she told him she wanted to end it for good, her hands were clasped in front of her to stop them from shaking. She handed him the letter she wrote. He took the letter, a smile teasing the corner of his mouth. She was afraid that he’d drop the letter and start into his role-playing again. If he had, she didn’t know what she would have done. Instead, he leaned over, kissed her on the cheek and left without a word.

After he left, she cried herself to sleep, long shuddering sobs falling into emptiness. Clarity.
Isn’t this what she wanted?
She missed him, the physical intimacy, the conversation, the way he helped her forget, the possibility of something more. The hope. Without that, what was there?

Now Althea was thinking about George disappearing on the second floor, and wondered if he could sense her thoughts. Celia tapped her shoulder and she jumped.

“Huh?”

“I said, you want to go for a celebratory drink?”

“No, unfortunately I have an advanced strategy paper to finish.” Celia nodded. She had taken the advanced strategy course with George last term. Althea was taking it this term, though George didn’t teach the class.

She turned back to her case. Her hand was trembling. Even now, Althea knew George would have liked it if she had been in his class. He would have liked that a lot.

chapter 22

ELIZABETH WAS PLAYING. SHE
crawled round and round because she liked the music. Then her knee stung. It had a shape on it, same as her puzzle piece. Blue triangle. She learned that last week. Her leg hurt. She wanted Rosa so she cried. Rosa came and was mad. The red water, she thought. She didn’t want Rosa to be mad. Going for a ride, Rosa said. Elizabeth liked rides
.