Point, Click, Love (28 page)

“I never even considered having an affair, Claudia. And, honestly, I wish you hadn’t done it.”

“I do too!” said Claudia pleadingly.

“But I understand. You were weak. And you probably wanted out but didn’t know it.”

“I don’t know that—”

“I do. You took the cowardly way out,” Steve said matter-of-factly.

“I know I did.” It felt good to hear Steve talk like this to her, to call her weak and cowardly. Not since the day they first met at Kinko’s had Steve been so willing to call out Claudia’s deficiencies. She wondered if things would have been different if Steve had dealt with her like this more often.

“But that’s what people do,” said Steve. “They have affairs because they don’t have the guts to say to their partner that they want out.”

“I don’t know if that’s what I wanted. I still don’t.”

“I think it is,” said Steve. “And, to be honest, I think I felt—feel—the same way. I was a coward too, only I just sat around playing on Facebook, waiting for you to do something.”

“So you want out?” asked Claudia, a lump developing in her throat.

“I don’t see any other way,” said Steve. “I feel like too much has happened between us. We’ve gone too far. And neither of us has had the motivation to do anything about it.”

“But maybe we do now.”

“Why? Because you had an affair? That’s the end, not the beginning. At least it is for me.”

“Some people work things out after an affair.”

“I know, but I can’t. I just don’t think it works.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I’ll never be able to forget about it. I know myself.”

“Oh, God,” said Claudia, beginning to cry. “I feel like I’m damaged goods. That no one is ever going to want me again!”

Steve walked over to Claudia and put his arms around her. “You’re not damaged goods, Claudia. You made a mistake. People make mistakes.”

“I broke a commandment. That’s what Marjorie said.”

“Marjorie?” said Steve, pulling away.

“Oh, I ran into her. Long story,” said Claudia. “I hate her, by the way. Please don’t marry Marjorie. I don’t want her to be Sandy and Janie’s stepmom.”

“I’m not going to marry Marjorie. I’m not going to marry anyone,” said Steve.

“How do you know?”

“I need a break from marriage right now.”

“Me too,” said Claudia.

“And I’m in no hurry to find another wife.”

“Me neither,” said Claudia, smiling. “You’re right. I shouldn’t worry if another man ever wants to look at me again. Who needs men anyway?”

“That’s right. We’re all a bunch of good-for-nothings.”

“Right.”

“Speaking of that, I just got a call from a job prospect. They’re having me back for a third interview.”

“That’s great!”

“Yeah, it’s looking good. I think they want to talk money at this point.”

“Wow. That’s amazing news.”

“Thanks. Listen, Claudia. I want to do this differently.”

“What?”

“The divorce. I want to do it right. I’m not angry with you. I don’t hate you. And I hope you don’t hate me.”

“I don’t. Of course I don’t.”

“I wish people could learn how to break up amicably,” said Steve. “Without all that venom and ill will.”

“We can,” said Claudia.

“I know we can.”

Chapter Nineteen

N
ormally, when Annie was going to a place she’d never been before, she’d punch the address into her GPS and allow herself to be guided effortlessly to her destination, guaranteeing that no time would be wasted. But when she set out to find the purveyor of smoked fish where she was to meet Marcus, she decided to forgo that convenience. It had been so long since she’d explored the city for something new or got lost in a strange part of town.

When she arrived at Stanislav’s and saw Marcus’s old green Honda Accord parked out front, she could feel her stomach churn in an oddly pleasant sort of way. She’d been anticipating this meeting for days, in a way she hadn’t anticipated seeing another human being in a very, very long time.

Marcus was nowhere in sight, so Annie took a moment to peruse the deli case. It was nothing like the one at Barney Greengrass or Zabar’s, where huge slabs of fish sat glistening in their own fat, adorned with strategically placed olives, sliced tomatoes, and sprigs of parsley. Here there was a rather puny stretch of salmon and a platter of whole whitefish surrounded by large bowls of unidentifiable salads swimming in mayonnaise.

Annie looked up at the man behind the counter. “No sable?”

The man smiled. “Ah, sable. You like sable?”

“Yes, I like sable. Doesn’t everybody?” said Annie.

“Very difficult to get,” said the man, shaking his head. “Also, not so many people want.”

“Crazy,” said Annie, shaking her head too.

“I tell you what,” the man said conspiratorially. “You give me your name and I see what I can do for you. Okay?”

“Okay.” Annie smiled.

“So what can I get for you today?”

“I should wait for my friend.”

“Oh! You with that nice boy?”

“I think so.”

“He went to the restroom. Nice boy. Very nice.”

“Yes, he is.”

Annie figured that Marcus inspired this reaction in everybody he came into contact with, and he probably didn’t even have to open his mouth to get it. She wondered what it would be like to move through the world in that way, leaving hordes of admirers in your wake. Annie knew she would never know that feeling, but she was excited by the possibility that her child might.

“Hey!” said Marcus, giving Annie a hug as if she were an old friend.

“Hey, there,” said Annie, awkwardly hugging him back. “Bad news. No sable.”

“I know,” said Marcus with exaggerated dejection. “But I wasn’t real hopeful they’d have it. We’re not in New York, after all.”

“I guess I just wanted to believe.”

“That’s what I love about you. You’re so optimistic.”

Hearing the words “I,” “love,” and “you” fall from Marcus’s lips so close together made Annie feel light-headed.

“What are you gonna get?” asked Marcus.

“I think I’ll get one of those whole whitefish and put it on a bagel with cream cheese. Want to share?”

“Sure.”

Annie stood on her tiptoes, lifted her head up to Marcus’s ear, and whispered, “The whitefish salad looks a little soupy.”

“I know,” Marcus whispered back.

When they got their food and sat down at one of the small tables lined up in front of the window, Annie took charge of beheading and deboning the fish.

“I’m impressed,” said Marcus. “Ever thought of becoming a surgeon?”

“Never. Blood freaks me out. Besides, I felt like I could really give back as a marketing director.”

“It’s a shame more people don’t go into marketing,” said Marcus, shaking his head.

“All right, all right. So I’m a complete sellout. But you’re getting a business degree, for God’s sake. What are you going to do with that? You can’t fix cleft palates in India with an MBA.”

“Actually, I want to get into microfinance.”

“Microfinance?”

“You know, where they give small loans to people in developing countries so they can start businesses or increase their farming productivity and try to break the cycle of poverty.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I know, sounds crazy …”

“But it just might work,” said Annie with a smile.

“Yes, it just might.”

“I can’t figure you out, Marcus. On one hand, you strike me as incredibly ambitious. On the other, you’ve got this idealistic streak.”

“Are they mutually exclusive?”

“I guess not. Or maybe I’ve never seen them coexist like this before.” All wrapped up in such a gorgeous package, thought Annie.

“Enough about me,” said Marcus. “Let’s talk about you.”

“What do you want to know?”

“I still can’t figure out how you ended up here.”

“I can’t either. I was on the same track as all my friends at Horace Mann.”

“Horace Mann? Really?”

“Then Yale, Wharton—”

“Wow. Annie.”

“Whatever. I mean, I had all the credentials. But for some reason, I was intrigued by the idea of doing something completely different from all my friends.”

“That’s cool.”

“Right. But the problem is that my friends were doing the most amazing things. They were becoming artists and government officials and foreign correspondents and CEOs of innovative start-ups. So choosing to do the opposite of my classmates was actually a pretty stupid idea.”

“I don’t think so,” said Marcus.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah! I mean, the bottom line is you didn’t want to be a sheep and follow everyone else. You wanted to pave your own way, even if that meant taking a more traditional route. But it wasn’t traditional for you. Coming to Kansas City and working for a big corporation—for you that was kind of exotic. Right?”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.”

“We all need to find our own way,” said Marcus. “And the worst thing you can do is start comparing yourself to others.”

“How did you get to be so wise, young man?”

“I’m not so young.”

“Younger than me.”

Annie was fine with telling Marcus how old she was but was glad when he didn’t ask.

“I’m actually pretty cool with living here,” said Annie. “I’ve found some great friends. And it’s a very livable city.”

“A great place to raise kids,” said Marcus.

At that, Annie almost choked on her bagel. “Yeah. So I hear.” She hesitated for a second, wondering whether she should remain on the topic of kids. But she decided not to, worried that if things got too heavy too fast, Marcus might get scared away.

“My favorite place to hang out is the Nelson,” she said.

“What a great museum!”

“I know! It’s kind of incredible that it’s here. And they’ve got some amazing stuff,” said Annie. “Sometimes I’ll plop myself down in front of my favorite painting and sit there and stare.”

“What’s your favorite painting?” asked Marcus.

“The Caravaggio.
John the Baptist
.”

“Too weird. That’s my favorite painting too.”

Annie smiled to herself but kept a straight face. “I’m not surprised at all.”

“Me neither. Caravaggio and sable. Makes sense to me.”

Annie thought how easy it would have been to simply use the information that Marcus had included in his sperm-bank profile to forge common ground. Yet here she was, hitting on obscure things they both loved, and without even trying.

“It’s weird, Annie. I feel so comfortable with you.”

“Me too. But you seem like the kind of guy who’s comfortable with everyone.”

“It’s not that. I’m just very good at making other people feel comfortable.”

“I see.”

“Most women I meet …”

Women he meets? thought Annie. Did Marcus really look at her as a woman rather than as a person who happened to be female?

“I always feel like they want something from me,” he said.

Oh, God, thought Annie. He likes me because I don’t want anything from him. Perfect. “What do you mean?” she asked, hoping that perhaps DNA did not fall onto the list of annoying things women wanted from him.

“Well, I don’t want to sound conceited …”

“It’s okay, Marcus. I know you’re not conceited.”

“But I always feel like women want to get together with me … right away. When they hardly know me.”

“That’s because you’re so handsome,” said Annie, trying to sound disinterested in his appearance.

“And then when they get to know me, I feel like they just want more.”

“Like what?”

“More … more intense.”

“Marriage?”

“Yeah, sometimes.”

“Well, that’s common among women your age. They want to get married. What can I tell you?”

“You don’t?”

“No.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“That’s kind of weird,” said Marcus.

“I guess,” said Annie. “I came close a few years ago, and when that didn’t work out I think I sort of lost interest.”

“I see. But you probably shouldn’t rule it out completely.”

“You’re right. I probably shouldn’t. There you go again, being all wise.”

“I really like you, Annie,” said Marcus, with a shyness that he seemed unaccustomed to.

“I like you too!” said Annie spunkily, trying to gloss over the awkwardness and ensure that they were talking only as friends.

“So the new Charlie Kaufman movie is finally playing here,” said Marcus.

“I love Charlie Kaufman!”

“Of course you do,” said Marcus, smiling. “Why don’t we go see it tomorrow night?”

“It’s a date,” said Annie, immediately regretting her word choice.

From the beginning, Annie knew what she wanted from Marcus—his sperm. And as outlandish as that might sound in any normal situation, Annie convinced herself that, because Marcus had given freely of his sperm to countless women in the greater metropolitan area, he wouldn’t mind giving some to her, especially if he liked her and respected her as a person. However, Annie was well aware that if Marcus felt more about her—if he was interested in her romantically—giving his sperm would suddenly become more complicated. So there was the difficult balance for Annie: making Marcus like her, but not too much.

At first, Annie felt confident that she was so out of Marcus’s league that there would be no danger of him falling for her. How could he possibly fall for a woman ten years older than him, not nearly as good-looking, who had settled for a quiet life in the Midwest working for a telecommunications company? But the more they saw each other, the more Marcus seemed to be doing just that. As much as she tried, Annie couldn’t ignore all the “I really like you’s, all the “We have so much in common’s, all the “I’ve never met anyone like you before’s. Getting the attention of
a guy like Marcus was flattering, but all it served to do was threaten Annie’s best-laid plans.

While her feelings about Marcus’s interest were mixed, Annie couldn’t help mentioning it to her mom when she called one Sunday morning.

“There’s a boy,” she said cryptically. “And he likes me a lot.”

“Oh, Annie!” her mother practically shouted with joy.