Spinning (12 page)

When I got back to my apartment, I removed the small, robin’s-egg blue box from the countertop and opened it. The ring was expensive, but if I was ever going to get married, I wanted a rock my wife would be proud to show off for the rest of her life.

I went to the hall closet, put the ring in my overcoat, and somewhere, a plate fell to the floor.

Friday morning, I sat in my office staring at the picture, which had now been on my desktop for the last few weeks. With the exception of Laurel, who’d gotten chillier the longer my relationship with Diane continued, I was starting to enjoy how everyone was treating me. It might have all been in my mind, but I sensed a new respect; the impression that I had to be responsible if I was dating a woman with a child.

Lunch came and went, and I stayed in my office. My stomach churned as I thought about what I planned to do that night.

“Hey. It was Billie.

“Come on in, close the door.”

“Why?”

“Would you tell me if I was about to do something stupid?”

“Always do. What did you do this time?”

“Would you be honest?”

“When am I not?”

“How would I know?”

“True. Shoot.”

I took a deep breath. “It’s only been six weeks since Diane and I really started our relationship…”

“Uh, oh.”

“Uh, oh what? No, uh, oh. Well, maybe uh, oh. I bought this.” I tossed the small robin’s-egg blue box over to her.

When she opened the box, her eyes grew wide. “This is quite a piece of real estate.” She looked at the ring.
“Wow. But why are you showing me? Were we competing on who would get married first?”

“It’s only been six weeks.”

“That’s like a couple of decades to me. But what’s the fuss? If you’re not sure it’s time, wait. What’s another week or two hundred?”

“But I don’t think I want to wait. I love her… ”

Billie tossed the box back.

“…
and
Spring.”

“Then why are we having this conversation?”

“I respect your opinion.”

“Thanks, but this is something you need to figure out for yourself.”

“Who figures this stuff out by themselves? Help me. Please?”

I must have looked desperate. Billie’s opinion was very important to me. It had been for a long time.

“Oh, what the hell. It’s happy hour somewhere,” she said and then hesitated. “Okay, have you ever been in love before?”

“Dunno.”

“How do you know you’re in love now?”

“I was talking to Jim…”

“Don’t tell me you’re listening to him. Not only is he divorced, he works for the Mayor. Talking to Jimbo about love is like learning about sex off the street. If you want advice, you’d be better off asking your reflection.”

“Have
you
ever been in love?”

“I don’t think so. I did meet this guy once. He drove a Mercedes and looked like he did pretty well. As it turned out, he was a judge. We dated for a while and I had these surprising feelings when I was with him. But he didn’t want to be an organ donor. You know, in case he died?
I could never get serious about someone who wanted to keep his organs to himself. Selfish bastard. So we broke up.”

“How long?”

“Two-and-a-half weeks.”

“At least you’re consistent.”

“Let me ask you this, Dylan. How does Diane feel about you?”

“She loves me, and she knows I love her. She makes me feel, I don’t know, good? I want to be around her. Oh, and we’re both organ donors.”

“I got it. A test.” She slid her chair closer to me. “We’ll call it the
Laurel Test
. For just for a minute, imagine no more Laurels. No more sex with people you barely know. No carefree vacations to Paris or Rio ever. Instead, you’ll be lugging around a kid… ”

“Sure, Laurel would be fun, but Spring is a whole different thing.”

“Okay, right answer. Next question. What’s Spring’s middle name?”

“Don’t know.”

“What’s Diane’s shoe size?”

“Don’t know.”

“What’s her favorite color?”

“Ha! Pink.” I smiled, despite the fact that my score was pathetic. “Diane’s favorite color is pink and Spring’s is purple, or eggplant.”

“Good. You’re on a roll. Here’s a good one: What’s her mother’s maiden name?”

“Can she tell me that before we get married? Won’t the ATM police give her a ticket or something?”

“You don’t know, do you?”

“No clue.”

“Next.” She leaned back. “Who is Spring’s father?”

This was something I had thought about a lot. If I were ever to be a truly significant figure in Spring’s life, there would always be some unknown faceless man to watch out for. What if he just showed up wanting to take his daughter away from us? Maybe he was a good guy. Hell, just because he didn’t hit it off with Diane didn’t make him a psycho. Maybe it just wasn’t right for them at the time. If he ever did come back, things could get very complicated between me and Spring, though. “Diane talked about him a couple times, but she never mentioned his name. He doesn’t know about Spring. I know that. Does that count?”

“Maybe you should ask Diane about that one.”

“You’re right. This isn’t something that will go away.”

Billie did some quick calculations in her head. I already knew I’d bombed this quiz. “It sounds, D-Man, like you’ve got some homework to do. Whether you want to do it before or after the wedding is up to you. With that ring, you’d better be sure.”

My intercom sounded and my assistant told me that I had a call from Mr. Barnes.

“Mr. Barnes? What a…”

Things can change in a blink of an eye. The path you choose doesn’t always go where it’s supposed to go. I hung up the phone, without saying another word to the caller.

“I have to go get Spring,” I said, glancing down at the picture on my desk. I couldn’t remember where I’d put my apartment keys. “Diane was in a taxi when it was hit by a stolen car. She was dead before the ambulance got there.”

“Oh my God, Dylan.”

I picked up the picture of Diane and Spring with Mr. Jimmy.

“They had to cut open the cab to get to her body.”

Billie stood up and touched my shoulder.

I started to cry.

“What do I do now?”

Diane had listed me as an emergency contact and Mr. Barnes had called down to the center’s front desk, so what might have been an awkward situation when I got Spring from daycare was merely another step in the process. I was methodically working through everything. It wouldn’t dawn on me until later that I’d dissociated from the news at least until I had the little girl in my arms.

“Can we go to see the ducks?” Spring said when we walked out onto the street. Apparently, my picking her up instead of Diane hadn’t set off any immediate alarm bells.

Nothing around me had changed. The streets, full of cars and cabs and people, carried on as usual. The sky held only a few clouds. For November, it was a perfect Friday afternoon. Soon, tourists would flock to the city to shop and view the holiday lights. Soon, there would
snow. Soon, Santa would be here. Soon, Spring would remember this Christmas for the rest of her life.

“D?”

I started to weave my way through foot traffic. The street was ridiculously busy, even though it was only a little past 3:00. I’d always assumed that everyone was in their offices at this time. I was moving quickly, even though I wasn’t in any rush. I bumped into one couple and then I pushed my way through a group of suits. As I pulled her through the masses, Spring’s grip tightened on my hand..

To my right stood a giant marble pillar.
A bank? A financial institution?
The pillar, overwhelming in its monstrosity and ugliness, jutted into the sky and blocked the sun. Suddenly, I felt as though I needed to stop. I leaned against the wall and tried to catch my breath. Nothing looked familiar. The sky, the buildings, the people even the girl by my side looked strange. I must have looked strange to her, as well, because now she was starting to get upset. Puddles formed in her eyes. I pulled her close, hugging her and pressing her face against mine.

“Where’s Mommy?” she said with a quiver in her voice.

At some point, I began to cry, but only noticed when I saw her little face, now wet with my tears. “Spring,” I said, sitting on the pavement and sliding her onto my lap. People continued to walk the sidewalks. Waiting at the red light, sometimes the crowd expanded close to where we sat on the concrete, almost tripping over my legs.

Spring’s eyes were red with tears. I looked away from her.

“Has your mommy ever gone on a vacation? A trip, alone? By herself?”

She shook her head.

“Have you ever stayed with someone other than Mommy?”

She nodded.

“Who?”

She pointed at me.

“Other than me. Anyone else?”

“No.”

I felt my stomach start to cramp. The light changed and the cars drove by.

“Spring, have you ever fallen down and hurt your knee?”

She nodded. Her body shivered.

“And Mommy puts a bandage on it to make it get better?”

“Yes.” She started to cry again.

“Your mommy had an accident.” I stopped. I certainly didn’t want to suggest to Spring that Diane would be back in a little while, wearing a Band-Aid.

Sitting on my chest, Spring listened with her small hands on my heavy shoulders.

“A bad accident,” I continued. “And she can’t come home.”

She shrunk into my chest.

“She isn’t coming home.” I held the little girl and rocked her. We both needed to be rocked. I squeezed her and wanted her to understand that I would try to help her feel safe. “Spring, it’ll be okay. You’ll be fine.” Was she understanding any of this? “We’ll be fine.”

Holding Spring, I didn’t know where to start or what to do first. I needed to make arrangements. I needed to contact people. But who?

Holding Spring while sitting against a Manhattan building, I felt suspended. There was a modicum of security in this urban cocoon. When we got up, we would be stepping into a new, uncharted world. So, for the longest time, we simply didn’t get up.

Monday afternoon would have been another perfect day, except for the pink stained-glass urn I carried.

Everyone I invited had attended the service at the East Village funeral home. Jim, Billie, Hank, Mr. Mason, Billie’s friend Amanda, Mr. Barnes, and other people from my office.

Although Diane had lived in New York for nearly two months, I was surprised to see that there weren’t more people who had come to her funeral. There were a couple of people who I assumed were from her office, including a woman we’d had brunch with once. With a magnet like Spring who made everyone smile, we still barely occupied two rows of chairs.

Diane’s urn featured pink and purple hibiscus. Diane loved pink hibiscus, even though it had no scent because it bloomed all summer. She had planned to have two pots of hibiscus on her window next year. Although she had never thought of making funeral arrangements, I know she would have liked the urn. The box, I was told, had a lower section for her ashes and a small compartment at the top for memorabilia. This made me wish I had more of her more pictures, more memories, and more time.

The service started at 3:00. When it ended, I don’t know. I walked out with Diane in my right hand and Spring next to me, grasping my jacket. Everyone was
dressed in black or gray, except Spring and her mother, who were both in pink. Spring looked like a blossom, her hair a tress of baby’s breath.

Jim tried to lift Spring to carry her, but the child would not have it and continued to sing a muffled and monotone “Itsy Bitsy Spider” into my pant leg. She hadn’t said much since Friday, other than mumbling in her sleep.

“… the itsy bitsy spider went up the water spout…”