Tempted (41 page)

4 days after non-take-off

Alex has
great
news.

ALEX:
 
My love, my one, my only, please dry your tears.
 
You’ll need your eyes clear to drive to the airport.
 
My
flight arrives tomorrow at 12:50
pm.
 
I’m flying American.
 
Come to me,
Cariña
.
 
It’s time.

The night before Alex arrives

I make reservations at the White Swan Inn in the city
–
my favorite Bed & Breakfast.
 

I
book a table
at Cafe Mozart.

5 hours before Alex arrives

I shave
–
very carefully.

4 hours before Alex arrives

I inform Mom and David that I will be gone for a couple of days
,
and leave detailed instructions on the feeding of the menagerie.

3 hours, 30 minutes before Alex arrives

I pull my still-packed suitcase out of the closet.

3 hours, 20 minutes before Alex arrives

I try on about fourteen
different outfits before settling on the one.
 
“The One.”
 
I smile.

2 hours, 40 minutes before Alex arrives

I do my best to put on makeup
,
but am shaking so much I poke my eye with the mascara brush, causing a torrent of black tears to trail down my powdered cheeks.

I wash my face.

2 hours before Alex arrives

I redo my makeup.
 
Grrrrrrrrrr.

1 hour, 45 minutes before Alex arrives

I curl my hair.

1 hour, 30 minutes before Alex arrives

I throw the pile of tried-on clothes in my closet.

I take a deep breath.

1 hour, 15 minutes before Alex arrives

I head for the airport.

20 minutes before Alex arrives

Once parked and in the terminal, I check the arrivals board.
 
Flight #247 from JFK
...
CANCELLED due to unseasonal weather.

I drive to the White Swan alone.
 
It’s too late to cancel the reservation
,
and I’d rather be out the money than have to explain to Mom.

I order a pizza to be delivered, grab a box of Kleenex and wallow away the evening.

My emotional life is a catastrophe, and it shows.
 
My eyes are constantly swollen from crying.
 
I rarely smile.
 
I m
iss Alex so much
it hurts.
 
Coming so close to seeing him in the flesh and then not getting to is more of a tease than I can bear
–
much more so than before we started making plans.
 
I feel nauseated most of the time, and even Ben & Jerry are scratching their heads as to how to restore my appetite.

Mom has all but taken over my entire show
,
and frankly, I couldn’t care less.
 
The other day a caller actually gave
me
advice.
 
This roller-coaster ride has got to stop.
 
And I know I’m the only one who can pull the brakes.
 
Things with Alex have never been better, as far as how we get along.
 
Months into knowing him, I still think he is absolutely perfect
–
at least, perfect for me.
 

There is only one glitch
...
more like three thousand of them
–
the miles between us.
 
There really is no getting around it.
 
One of us would have to move.
 
He
can’t because of his kids, with whom he is very involved.
 
Not only does he have them at his place fifty percent of the time, but he also makes trips into the city a few times a week for their games, recitals, and any and all special occasions.
 
In short, he’s a loving and attentive father, and I find that incredibly attractive.
 
For my part,
I
can’t leave either.
 
While Mom would be just as happy if I abandoned her to David’s care, really, that’s not an option.

* * *

Teleportation.
 
I see no other alternative.
 
Either that or pinch The TARDIS.

* * *

How could something so perfect and wonderful turn so utterly miserable?
 
We’re coast-crossed lovers, that’s how.

* * *

3 thousand miles = 3 million tears.

* * *

I can’t take this anymore.
 
Period.

I broke up with Alex today.

No, I don’t want to talk about it.

Things have been friendly, but a tad frosty, between me and David.
 
Sure
,
we’re having fun.
 
Life with him is always fun.
 
And Mom has taken to smiling so naturally she now does it without trying, and often!
 
The show is a sm
ash hit and I am beginning to attrac
t additional sponsors.
 
Mom, of course, makes it clear that the success is all thanks to her involvement.
 
Who knows?
 
Maybe she’s right!

The menagerie is in fine fettle
,
and David is teaching Persephone how to use an iPhone.
 
Daphne follows Mom everywhere she goes and I would swear they occasionally race one another.
 
The birds have started singing Foo Fighter songs, also thanks to David.
 
And Jasper is happy to have me all to himself
–
if he’s in the mood.

I’m pretty sure David knows something is up with me and Alex.
 
More accurately, something is over.
 
Mom senses I am heartbroken and is acting lik
e Mary S
unshine
–
not so much to bolster my spirits, but more to show David what an upbeat, fun person she is in comparison to me.
 
Gee, thanks Mom.

* * *

David is a real trooper.
 
The menagerie all but trashed his car last time he transported them to Redwood Meadows with Mom, but at her request, he’s doing it again.
 
She’s decided to take another mini-vacation
,
which means that David and I will be alone in the house together for the first time since Mom moved in. It’s more likely I’ll be alone, as he has been spending more and more time away f
rom home.
 
I wonder why he
doesn’t
just
move out, and suspect it’s most likely for Mom’s sake.

It will be odd being home without Mom or David or the menagerie.
 
Come to think of it, the last time I was truly alone was the night that Nimo attacked me.
 
I shudder at the thought
,
and feel apprehensive about my potential solitude over the next few days.
 
Before, I had Alex to keep me company virtually.
 
Now
,
I’m left with no one but me, myself and I, and we have been butting heads and hearts for months now.
 
Whereas I used to prefer to be alone, now I almost dread it.

David stays out after dropping Mom off.
 
I watch some movies online as I work, just to have some noise and company.
 
I stay up until my dozing, bobbing head becomes too annoying.
 
Tentatively, I go to lie down, paying far too much attention to every leaf moving outside and every creak of the house within.
 

Miraculously, I sleep through the night and awake to find the place deserted.
 
For the first time in my life
,
I feel truly lonely.
 
And for the umpteenth time in several weeks
,
I am once again a sobbing mess.

The sun sets without a sign of David.
 
I make the usual number of portions for dinner, forgetting that with David and Mom gone
,
it will all be for me.
 
If I’d thought about it sooner
,
I would’ve made the tacos spicier.
 
My mind flashes back to the days, less than a year ago, when I would cook just once a week, relishing the leftovers and hoarding them all to myself.
 
I can’t even fathom my former mindset any more, or life
,
for that matter.
 

David shows up just as I’m finishing my last taco, which I think may be number six.
 
He is quieter than usual
,
and I don’t know what to make of his mood.
 
I expect him to head straight for his room and shut the door, but instead
,
he grabs two tacos and joins me on the couch.
 
We fall into a comfortable conversation and before I know it, we’re cracking up and carrying on as we did during our first few weeks w
hen he moved in.
 
It is lovely
,
and I realize how much I’ve missed it.
 
For all of our faults, we get along incredibly well, and I’m thrilled to have this time to re-bond with him.

The next morning
,
I awake to the heavenly aromas of coffee and bacon.
 
He’s m
aking one of my favorite treats –
pancake batter poured over bacon strips on the griddle.
 
‘Baconcakes,’ ‘pancon,’ we’ve never been able to come up with a suitable word for the brilliant concoction, but a rose by any other name
...

The weather has turned much cooler and crisper, and the days have gotten shorter.
 
Perfect time for a fire.
 
I have a stack of cut wood from when some trees had to be removed on the property, and David is a whiz at starting a log fire.
 
We laze the day away, tittering and being generally goofy.
 
After hours spent playing Guitar Hero, I get into something of a huff when I’m not able to play at the level of Jimmy Page.
 

Neither of us feels like cooking,
so when we get hungry at dinner
time
,
we order half of the menu from the local Chinese delivery restaurant.
 
At the end of the meal, we crack open our fortune cookies.

David reads his first:

All that you desire is already in your possession.

Awkward silence.

I read mine:

Be bold. Take what you want. You cannot loose.

We snicker at the typo
,
and
then inexplicably both fall silent.
 
At once, we both offer to clean up, though there really is nothing to do since we ordered takeout.
 
Stuffed to the gills, we both collapse on the couch, rubbing our protruding bellies and reminiscing about things that give us the giggles.
 
The giggles somehow lead to playing footsies, and our socked feet flirt with one another shamelessly.
 

I
wake up
in the dark still on the couch with David, and contorted in some position that is not only painful, but that I fear may have caused some sort of permanent damage.
 
David is somehow contorted to an even smaller space than me, which appears all the more pitiful, considering he is nearly a foot taller than I am.