Staying True - A Contemporary Romance Novel (22 page)

“You should just go back to her. You
can obviously trust her more than me with your future.”

“That’s not fair,” she said.

“I’d rather be alone and hopeful,
than with someone and lonely. So, I am choosing right now to stay alone.”

Nadia tossed her arms up in the air.
“When it matters, you can’t even put aside your fears of commitment and face the
truth.”

I just stared at her, at the
straightness of her spine, at her soft shoulders, at her brown flowing hair. “I
told you I loved you. How much more truth can I tell you?”

She sighed. “I want to be with you. I
do. I can’t give you more than this, though.” She closed in on me, cupped her
hands around my face. “You are on my mind always. I don’t want to ruin this
good thing we have going on together. I don’t want to leave you behind. I can’t
rise out of bed in the morning without first thinking of you. I can’t go to
sleep at night before imagining your arms wrapping around me. I care about you
Ruby Clark.”

“Prove it then.”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t or you don’t want to?”

“I don’t want to,” she said much too
quickly.

“Well, there we have it. Question
answered.”

We stared at each other, two broken
women with exposed regrets.

“I just want things to stay the way
they are.” Nadia leaned over the edge of desperation, and I pictured her losing
her footing and slipping, then tumbling down into an abyss way out of my reach
to help. “I want you to be you, that special willowy girl who I adore. I want
to share romantic moments with you without regret. I want to sip wine and
massage each other and enjoy expressing ourselves without fear of hurting the
other.”

“You want two worlds.”

“I want what we’ve always had. Fun.
Intoxicating sex. Friendship. A safe haven to be happy together. What we have
is perfect as-is. We have fun. We enjoy each other. It’s fresh and spirited. If
we change these elements, it could ruin everything.”

“So, in other words, you want freedom
from guilt.”

“Yes,” Nadia whispered. “Love should
never cause guilt.”

I didn’t want to be that safe place
for her. I wanted to be her only place. “I don’t want to be your source of
guilt one day.”

She flinched.

“Unless you leave her, you’ll feel
guilt.”

Nadia’s forehead creased under the
pressure. “I can’t leave her.”

“You love the way she needs you. You
love being the saving grace. This defines you. You are so afraid of removing
that from your life and standing on your own for once.”

She cupped her hands to her face and
squeezed her eyes. “Why shouldn’t I be? Who wants to be alone? There is purpose
in helping people.”

“Somewhere along the way, you broke
down. You claim you blend to mend, like with your sister, but that’s bullshit.
Way back when, she hit a nerve and you’ve been trying to put yourself back
together ever since. You seek out people with problems and try to fix them to
make yourself feel whole. What you need is time to mend yourself. You’re the
broken one here, Nadia.” The words landed in a thud at our feet.

Tears streamed down her face now.
“Don’t do that,” she pointed. “I’m not broken. I help those who are. There’s a
big difference.”

“You assumed I was broken. So you
swooped in like the saving grace and tried to fix me by giving me a job and
getting me to open up to you.”

Nadia nodded. “When I first met you,
I saw you sleeping in your car in the parking lot. You were massaging strangers
in a dark lounge. You had no plan. You were broken, and of course I wanted to
help you.”

“I don’t need your help. I am not
broken. I love my life. I am a survivor. I am strong-willed. I can live in a
car, shower in a YMCA, eat at a homeless shelter and still smile. I don’t need
a helping hand. I’ve proven that. You, on the other hand, would never be able
to survive some of the things I did. So, let’s stop the martyrdom here.”

“Martyrdom? Give me a fucking break.
Without me, you’d be in deep financial trouble. Admit it.”

Fuck her. “Even if you left your wife
now, we’d be done. I could never be with someone who views me as weak and
broken. I’m done with this conversation.”

“Stop,” she said. “Stop being
ridiculous. Just because you need someone doesn’t make you weak. You’re talking
out of fear now.”

“When you’re unattached like me, you
are spared fear.”

Nadia rolled her eyes. “You think
you’re this free-spirited, willowy princess who can land in the streams and
wade under the sparkle of the sun and then fly up to mountaintops and gaze out
over the land like you’re some kind of elusive being who is better than the
rest of us mere mortals who have responsibilities and commitments.” She rolled
her eyes and scoffed.

“You’re afraid to not have anyone at
all,” I said. “You wouldn’t know how to stand up without someone by your side. You’ve
always had someone by your side. If it wasn’t Jessica, it was your sister. When
Jessica ended up in jail, you found me. You always need to be needed.”

“Better to be like that than to be
afraid of settling down in life. Actually, I think you’re incapable of settling
down.” She tightened her face. “Incapable.”

“I am not incapable. Don’t ever tell
me I’m incapable.”

“You were a traveling masseuse with
no clients before I met you. I helped you.”

“Helped me.” I winced. “There you go
again, jumping in headfirst to the rescue.”

“You needed help. I helped.”

“I will never need someone. Never. I
am self-reliant. I don’t need saving,” I said.

“Everyone needs someone at some
point,” Nadia said. “The fact that you think you’re so perfect as-is will only
hold you back further in life. I feel bad for you. I really do.”

“You go around trying to save
everyone like you’re the perfect host to some model life we should all strive
to live. It’s you who needs to be saved from your enormous ego.”

She backed up as if I’d just slapped
her. She ran off, past the pigeons, past the docks, past the toddlers tossing
bread, past the park bench we sat on just a few weeks earlier, past it all.

Chapter Eighteen

Nadia

I drove back to Connecticut replaying
our fight. I’m the one who needs to be saved?

And, how could she worry that I
viewed her as my “little fuck buddy”?

Ruby had seduced me.

How fucked up. Ruby couldn’t even
admit that she needed help. She worked so hard to keep up the façade of being
this free spirit. When the end of the day came, however, did she not realize
she needed money to put shelter over her head, food in her stomach, and gas in
her car? I saved her from having to sacrifice any of those things. What was
wrong with that?

I helped my sister, Jessica, Shawna,
and Ruby because I liked to help them. Everyone liked to be needed. Didn’t
they? This had nothing to do with an inflated ego.

Broken? Me?

I punched my steering wheel. Fuck
that.

I would request a transfer
immediately.

I didn’t need this crap in my life. I
would stay focused on the woman who needed me.

A transfer would sever the tie
between us. Ruby didn’t need me? Fine. I’d like to see how far she would get
without my help.

I punched the steering wheel again.
Why did I have to flip out the way I did? I could’ve kept quiet and let her
vent. Now, she’d certainly never take my calls.

In thirty short minutes, I had
screwed up my whole life. Now I’d lose touch with Shawna. Our friendship would
fizzle. I’d no longer be able to monitor people at the lounge. She’d be forced
to deal with idiots on her own.

And what about Ruby’s grampa? Would
he still create pottery? He loved molding clay. He loved painting his finished
piece. Would that all go away for him now? Would Ruby and Shawna bring him back
there? Or would he be forced back into his routine of Sunday breakfast and
stale conversation with the old ladies at the senior center?

No more Ruby. No more flirty phone
calls. No more surprise cards delivered to me in the middle of the day. A lump
formed in my throat. How would I ever enjoy a work day without looking down
from my office and seeing her beautiful, long hair flapping around her toned
shoulders as she leaned over strangers and massaged them? Would I ever be able
to eat an apple again without reminiscing about our Sweet Tree? What if my neck
knotted up again? Could I have another masseuse touch me without the stab of
heartbreak interfering with recovery?

Fuck no.

I punched the wheel even harder.

No way.

Impossible.

I couldn’t.

My heart hurt. It ached, like someone
had jumped on it and flattened it, emptying it of all its oxygen, its life.

I missed her already.

The sobs piled up in the back of my
throat and unleashed. I bawled for miles, singing sad songs and reminiscing
over our shared memories. She loved me. Of course she couldn’t stand to hang
around pining for our time together while I catered to my marriage on the side.
Ruby deserved greater than that. She deserved a full time lover who would
commit to her and help her to see that needing each other was healthy. I
thought of the pilot. They could fly around the skies enjoying the lightness of
air and unlimited escapes to lands beyond the reach of Interstate ninety-five.
She deserved this freedom, not the confines of being a mistress. I loved her. Wasn’t
I supposed to want her happiness above my own? Was it supposed to hurt like
this?

Ruby would never admit to needing me.
How could I ever be with someone who feared my support? What kind of
relationship would that be?

It wouldn’t be one.

I sped up, wanting to outrun the past
and get started on the future. Maybe if I put enough miles between us, I’d get
over her quicker.

I called Jessica about one hundred
and thirty miles north of our home. “I’m on my way home. I should get there in
two hours if traffic cooperates.”

“I’ve got some good news.”

“What’s that?”

“I got a great job.”

My heart should’ve twirled at this
news. Life already took a better turn. “Doing what?”

“Dancing again.”

“Dancing?” Dancing meant temptation.
Dancing meant busy schedules. Dancing meant booze. “How did that come about?”

“I answered a job in the paper and
the guy at first said no way, he doesn’t hire people with a criminal record.
So, I told him I’d show him my abilities by working one day for free. He
agreed. I impressed him I guess. Of course, I was the only sober dancer on the
stage.”

My new Jessica, Mrs. Industrious.
Mrs. Clean and Sober. “How will you deal with the pressures?”

“I’m a changed woman. I’ll rely on
the goodness of God to help me through.”

“You don’t have to rush into getting
a job.”

“I need to work. I’m driving myself
nuts hanging around here all day.”

“Is dancing the answer?”

She chuckled. “Hey, Butterfly?”

“Yes, sweetheart.”

“Just hurry up and get home. I can’t
wait to give you a big hug.”

* *

When I got home, I unlocked the front
door and Jessica was lounging on the couch watching television. She hopped
right up from the couch and ran over to me. Before I could even drop my
luggage, she took it from me and walked it into the living room. “Come on. Let
me order us a pizza. We’ll nibble on it and hang out together.”

“Like old times?” My words dripped
with hope.

“Just like old times. Sans the beer.”

I hugged her and she smelled like a
cigarette. “Have you been smoking?”

She pulled away. “I’m sorry. It was
just one cigarette.”

I braced her at arms’ length.
“Really? Smoking?”

She lowered her eyes like a child. “I
know I shouldn’t. I picked up the habit in prison and with all the stress of
trying to get back to normal living, it helps.”

“I don’t want you to be a smoker.
Promise me you’ll quit.”

She looked up at me. “I promise. I’ve
just got a couple more in the pack, and I promise never to buy another one.”

“Why not just toss them now?”

She tilted her head. “I’d rather not.
It’s a mental thing. You know like starting a workout mid-week wouldn’t work as
well as starting on a Monday.”

“Okay.” I dropped my hands from her.
I was too tired to argue. I’d deal with it later. “I’m just going to go refresh
before we eat.”

I climbed the stairs and inhaled
deeply, reassuring myself that everything would fall back into place as it was
before. I would see to it.

In the month that followed, I focused
on my marriage, working harder than ever to build Jessica back up to her prime
position. The dancing gig lasted all of two days. She quit when her fellow
dancers pressured her to drink with them. She refused and came home smelling of
cigarettes again. “Yes, I’ve been smoking. I’m stressed.” She stormed up the
stairs. “Is it too much to ask that I just want to work?” She slammed our bedroom
door.

By the second week, her stress
exploded when Sasha told her that Keith would not be able to hire her to work
in the hotel. “That was my last resort.” She lit a cigarette on the patio,
pacing feverishly back and forth, shaking. “She actually told me Keith didn’t
want to hire an ex-con. She actually called me an ex-con.” She drew long and
hard on her cigarette. “If family can’t give me a break, who will?” Smoke
streamed from her nostrils.

“Just calm down.” I stared at the tip
of her dangling cigarette. I had no idea how to make her quit. “I’ll have a
talk with her.”

“I know what you’re thinking. You’re
thinking I’m weak and pathetic because I traded one bad habit for another. I
need you to ease up on me here.”

I tossed my hands in the air. “I
didn’t say anything.”

“No, but you’ve got that stern look
about you.”

I needed to soften her. I needed her
to listen to me. I couldn’t help her in this frazzled state. “I’m not your
enemy,” I whispered.

She flung her head back. “I know.”
She clung to herself. I’d never seen her so distraught, not even when she had
entered prison. I needed to prove I was on her side. As much as I dreaded it, I
picked up her pack from the table and lit one for myself. I inhaled deeply.
“See,” I said, coughing. “I’m right by your side. If this is what you need to
get you through, then we’ll smoke.” I inhaled again. The smoke stung my eyes.
“We’ll get through this together.”

“I love you so much,” she said,
pulling me into her arms.

“I love you, too.”

We clung to each other dragging on
our cigarettes like a couple of rough and tough women. First build the trust.
Then, remold and redefine. Blend to mend.

As the days passed, I lifted her mood
by spoiling her with things like digital montages of our vacation photos and
new pillows for the bed. She responded with brighter smiles and a fresh
perspective on her situation. “Maybe it’s time I do something totally different
with my life.”

“This is a great opportunity for you
to break away from what you’ve always done.”

Within three weeks, Jessica got a job
landscaping. She came home happy and smiling, humming tunes while preparing
chicken and fish dinners. “I can see myself opening up my own landscaping
company one day. It’s seriously so simple. Most of the clients already told me
they’d hire me in a heartbeat.” She breaded chicken cutlets, and a smile danced
on her face.

* *

A week later, I trekked up to the
Rhode Island office to check on things. I sneaked in the back door so I
wouldn’t have to walk past Ruby’s massage oasis.

Shawna tended the bar, wiping up
remnants of someone’s lunch. “It’s about freaking time.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t had a chance to
call you back.” I sat down. “I’ve been busy.”

She arched her eye. “Did corporate
tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“Ruby quit.”

My body numbed. “No one told me.”

“Yup, she’s not even massaging
anymore. She’s walking dogs.”

I poured salt from the shaker in
front of me and twirled my finger around in it. “She’s so freaking stubborn.”

“Why are you making a mess of my
bar?”

I stopped twirling, surprised at her
authority. “I’m sorry.”

Shawna braced against the bar, easing
her command over my salt pile. “Are you doing okay?”

“I’m fine.” I lifted my face to meet
her eye. “I miss her. But, I want her to be happy.”

“She’s dating that pilot woman. She’s
actually very sweet. But she’s no you.”

The truth jerked at my heart. “Well,
I’m glad to see she’s getting on with her life.” I swallowed the bitter lie.
“How about you? Are things going okay here for you? Any problems that I should
know about?”

“I fired someone.” A proud twinkle
danced in her eye.

“What happened?”

“He couldn’t handle me. He said my
lipstick disturbed him. So, I told him his face disturbed me and kicked him
out.”

I laughed. I could just see the scene
playing out with Shawna standing tall, challenging the guy to give her more
attitude and he backing down and running away. “Good for you.” I swirled my
salt some more. “Have you seen her grampa?”

“That’s another reason I was trying
to call you. He’s having some trouble with his eyes. He’s got that macular
degenerative disease and it’s serving him up some trouble. I feel bad for him.
So, I’ve been reading to him almost every day.” She wiped away my salt. “He’s
always asking about pretty Nadia.”

“That man brings a smile to my face.
He’s a true spirit, isn’t he?”

She nodded. “I’m heading over there
after my lunch shift if you want to go.”

“Will Ruby be there?”

“Not today. She can only get there a
few days a week with her dog walking schedule.”

“She’s on a schedule?”

“Our girl is on a schedule.” She
laughed. “Imagine that?”

* *

A few hours later, Shawna and I
walked into his apartment. He slurped Jell-O while watching
Days of Our
Lives
. He looked up at me and smiled. “There’s my pretty girl.” He lifted
his Jell-O cup. “Hey, want some?”

“No.” I sat down on the couch. “You
enjoy it.”

He smiled and continued to slurp. He
looked like a child swishing the Jell-O around his cup. “So Ruby tells me you
got a big promotion. Is that why you haven’t been around?”

I nodded, admiring Ruby’s compassion.
“It’s been a little hectic, yes, sir.”

“Where’s Ruby? She didn’t come with
you?”

“She’s out walking dogs,” Shawna
said.

He nodded. “Oh yes. That’s right.”
His wrinkles looked deeper since the last time I saw him. His face drooped
more. “She’s wild just like her mother was. You know,” he leaned in and
whispered. “You can’t cage those two. They’re like those feral cats that used
to wander around my barn. They just want to roam on their terms.”