The Way We Were (2 page)

The rawness of his voice got to her. For one of the few times since the divorce, she touched him, squeezed his arm. “I’m sorry. We’ve both lost a lot. And now, this crisis with Opal. I’m sure you’re hurting as much as I am.”

He nodded, composing
himself.

Stepping back, she wrapped her arms around her waist. “Did you come here for a reason?”

“To see you. Nothing’s wrong,” he said quickly. He knew the Ludzecky family expected fate to turn on them again at any time. It had just happened with Opal.

“Then, why are you here?”

“I wondered if you’d have lunch with me.”

“Why? We see each other every night.”

“With Opal there.
I thought we both might need to share our feelings when she wasn’t around.”

“I talk to my sisters every day about my feelings about Opal.”

He glanced away.

“You don’t have any friends, do you?” Her tone was critical.

Which made him retort, “I lost the male friends I was the closest to, Ana.”

She saw, clear as a bell, the three brothers-in-law and Luke in a pickup basketball
game out back of their house, playing in a volleyball league, trying to best each other at cards when they went on vacations together.

“Peter and Donnie. My brother. I know your loss was great.” And in her grief, she’d abandoned him. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

He shook his head, watching her. “Why can’t it always be like this, Annie? Listening to each other, understanding each other.
We had something special.”

Tears threatened, so she glanced away. “That was the way we were, Jared. Everything is different now.”

“Because of me. And what I did.”

“And because of me. And what I didn’t do. We were both responsible for our divorce.”

He didn’t correct her, because he knew she was right. Each of them bore the blame in the dissolution of the marriage. Except her part
ultimately didn’t seem to be under her control.

You could get therapy. We could go together.
He’d said it a million times. That had been an option, but she couldn’t take it.

“I thought we were becoming friends again.”

“No, Jared. We can’t be friends. It hurts too much to be close to you.” And because of that, she kept to her story with her family—that Jared had caused the divorce.
She couldn’t confide that she was at fault, too. She was embarrassed and deathly afraid her sisters would side with him if they knew the truth. And that wasn’t something she could endure after all the loss and heartbreak.

Letter #1

Dearest Ana,

You haven’t been home for days. I know you have to be with your sisters, but Opal needs you. She’s only seven, and should
be with her mother at this awful time. I need you, too, sweetheart. I loved Donnie and Peter as if they were my brothers. We can console each other. Make each other feel better. I’m also frightened, mostly because I can’t reach you. This hasn’t ever happened to us. We can’t let it go on. You’re my life. I wish I could write poetry like e.e.cummings to tell you how much I need you. Please just
come home to us.

Sofia walked toward Ana’s home, trying to ward off the negative vibes emanating from every corner of the structure. Having cultivated an acute awareness of the physical world, Sofia was attuned to atmospheric changes that went undetected by others. Once this place had bloomed with joy and love and hope for the future. Since Ana and Opal had occupied it alone,
the house pulsed with sorrow and a bit of fear.

Since only her ex-brother-in-law’s car sat in the driveway, she rang the front bell. And shivered from the bitter cold February day. Jared opened the door and smiled. She’d always liked this man, sensing a goodness in him. An inherent kindness. That perception was challenged by what he’d done to their family but not totally erased.

“Sofia!”
He went to hug her, then stopped abruptly, as if he’d forgotten he shouldn’t be doing that after what had transpired between him and Ana. “How nice to see you.” He stepped back and she went inside. “But you don’t have to ring the bell.”

“I wasn’t sure who was home.”

“Even if it was just me, you can walk right in.” His tone was sad.

“Of course I can.”

He jammed his hands in his
jeans pockets. “Sorry, but Ana’s still at work.”

“I know. I came to see Opal.”

“She didn’t tell me.”

“She called me from school.”

The man’s classic features tensed. “Why? Is something wrong we don’t know about?”

“No, of course not. She just wanted to see me today.”

He looked so relieved she thought,
This is stupid.
Reaching up, she hugged him. He startled, then clasped
on to her tightly. “I’m a wreck.”

“I can see that. It’s hard waiting.”

When he drew back, he took a bead on her. “You know the situation from Opal’s side of the street.”

“Yes, when I was diagnosed.” She’d had leukemia as a teenager, which had been in remission for years, thank the cosmos. “There was so much waiting involved. It’s unbearable sometimes.” She held up a bag. “I’ve got
a present for Opal that might help.”

His query was reflected in his eyes. “What is it?”

“A yoga mat. Some candles. Incense. I thought I might do centering exercises and mindful meditation to help soothe her.”

“Sounds great to me. Thank you for thinking of that.”

“Aunt Sofia!” A little tornado bounded down the steps and threw her arms around Sofia’s waist. “You came.”

“Uh-huh.
Bearing gifts.”

Her dark brows rose. She resembled Jared so much. “For me?”

“Yep. Let’s go upstairs.”

“You should use the family room,” Jared said easily. “I’ll move the furniture so you can spread out. The sun’s coming in from the windows and skylights, which I know you like. I’ll stay in my study.”

Five minutes later, Opal’s new sparkling green mat was stretched out by Sofia’s
beige one, with Sanskrit symbols for peace and serenity. Six candles lit the area, emitting a vanilla scent. “Sit up on your folded blanket, Opal, like I’m on mine.” She’d brought the props. “Make sure your back is aligned so you can feel its natural curve. Try to get your knees to touch the floor.” Opal’s did, right away. Children were so dexterous. “Hands on knees, palms open to the heavens. Now,
the first step is pranayama. Breathing exercises. In trying to center yourself, concentrate only on your breath. In…slowly…and out. In…out…”

An hour later, while they stretched out on the mats in savasana, or corpse pose, Sofia hoped that her routine had helped Opal. She worried about the girl. She knew enough to worry.

“Aunt Sofia? I know we’re not supposed to talk during the lay-down
time but I wanna ask you something.”

Staring up at the ceiling, Sofia took Opal’s hand and linked their fingers. “Go ahead, baby.”

“Was what you went through when you were sick hard?”

“I won’t lie to you. Yes, it’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever experienced. But remember, my disease was much more serious than yours.” Without a bone-marrow donation, Sofia would have died.

“Aunt Paulie gave marrow to you. I don’t know what that is.”

“It’s the substance in your bones called stem cells that sends healing to all parts of your body.”

“Did it hurt?”

How much to tell the child? As if it had happened yesterday, Sofia could see Paulina-the-jock laid out on the couch for days, suffering from symptoms similar to the flu. Ah, that would be understandable. “Aunt
Paulie had flu-like symptoms afterward.”

“What about you?”

Sofia chose to meditate when the pain of that time came back to her. Talking about it made it worse. But she loved this girl. “The treatment before the transplant was very hard.” Chemo and radiation that had made her shockingly ill. “They gave me drugs so I wouldn’t reject the marrow, too.” There was more, but she didn’t want to
frighten her niece.

“Bummer.” A silence. “You had to give up dance.”

“I did.” She waited, knowing what was coming.

Finally, “Nobody said so, but I won’t be able to play soccer.”

“I’m sorry, honey.”

“I hope I find something else.”

“You will. I did. There’s a wonderful rhythm in the universe that provides for us.”

“God?”

“Some people call it that.”

“Okay. I’ll
try to think that way.” She blew out a heavy breath. “I hate this, though. I get cray-cray sometimes.”

“Cray-cray?”

“You know, flip out. Go crazy.”

“Do your mom and dad know?”

“Are you kidding? They’re so freaked that’d send them over the edge.”

“Oh, baby, I think you should tell them.”

“No. But I’ll talk to you.”

“Anytime you want.” She thought for a second. “The surgery
isn’t for five more days. How about if you come to the studio about one on Saturday? We’ll have an easy stretching and breathing class together, like this one. Then I’ll take you to lunch and we can talk as long as you want.”

“Yeah. That’d be mad-cool.”

“Well, if it keeps you from going cray-cray, then it’s worth it.”

On Friday, Opal asked her best friend Stephanie
to sleep over. They’d commandeered the family room, with explicit instructions not to be disturbed. Jared’s first impulse had been to object, that Opal needed her rest, but Ana said she thought it would be better for their daughter if she had someone her own age to talk to. Jared wondered if he was this protective now, how he would deal with Opal after the surgery when she had only seven-percent
functioning in one kidney.

Pushing the negative thoughts aside, he sat at his computer in the den they’d built for him and now was Ana’s. Tall windows, a skylight, a mahogany desk and bookshelves filled up the space. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed the comfortable, homey atmosphere.

He sighed and called up the chapter on symbols. Its old title was “Symbol Hunting in
The Scarlet
Letter.
” For his new book,
Teaching The Scarlet Letter to Students
, he planned to keep the first part about symbol hunting adding the subtitle “And the piercing arrows of English teachers.” He started by listing each one: the A, Pearl, the rose bush, Arthur Dimmesdale—the main character’s lover—and what he bore on his chest. And the villain, too. Then he suggested an alternative to finding the
meaning of the book without these commonly taught elements. He began to write the meat of the chapter: that insisting on the standard symbols and their traditional meanings limited the exploration of the text. He went on to suggest better ways to get into the book, such as using
all
the imagery to write about what things meant to each individual student. This progressive view had shocked students
and teachers alike in workshops he’d given lately. His expertise on Hawthorne made him a sought-after speaker in both colleges and high schools, but most didn’t expect this breach of traditional methods.

“What’s the smile for?”

Jared glanced over at the door. Ana stood there, dressed in a red sequined outfit that hugged every curve she had. He’d forgotten—or blocked—that she had a date
tonight. And for a moment, he couldn’t speak because of the longing in his gut.

“Jared?”

“Sorry. You look fantastic. Like a glittering ruby.”

She blushed. He loved that about her. “You always did have a way with words. You were smiling when I came to the door. Why?”

“This chapter’s about symbols and symbolism. How emphasis on them narrows the interpretation of the book.”

The
corners of her mouth turned up. “I always loved hearing about your writing. How your attitudes changed and grew the more you learned the best ways to teach.”

“We had fun sharing those times. You read and critiqued every word I wrote.”

For a moment, her face paled. Her hand tightened on the doorjamb.

“Ana?”

“It ambushes me sometimes. What it was like back then.”

He, for one,
could barely think about those times. And since she rejected any overture of being friends, it hurt even more to be reminded of the past. Which he was, every single day he lived in this house. “I know.” He glanced around the office. “It’s hard for me, too.”

Coming farther into the room, she neared him, and the scent of the perfume she always wore filled his senses. He grabbed the arms of his
chair.

She perched on the edge of the couch and studied him. “It’s hard for you to be living here, isn’t it?”

When he could, he swiveled to face her. “Uh-huh.”

“Then why did you fight so fiercely to move in?”

He held her gaze. “Because it was the best thing for our child, even if it wasn’t for me.”

“I—I’m sorry. I didn’t think about that.” Her brows knit. “I’ve made it even
harder, I think.”

“You’re worried about Opal, too. You should be concentrating on
her
and not my issues.”

“To a degree. But I should have concentrated more on your issues when our relationship went south. I can see that now. I’m sorry I didn’t.”

“Then why won’t you—”

The doorbell rang. She stood abruptly, probably glad to have the conversation interrupted. “That’s my date.”

“I never thought I’d hear those words come out of your mouth.” Despite her loveliness, Ana had had few boyfriends during her lifetime. She was too busy with her self-appointed role as second mother to her sisters.

The bell again. “I have to get that.”

Jared turned his head away.

He heard Mark Milburn enter the house. Tell her how lovely she was, caught her soft laugh of self-deprecation.
He’d be damned if he went out there and had to be nice to the guy who was moving in on his wife.

Instead, he waited until they left and went back to his book. But he wasn’t smiling anymore.

With a phony expression of pleasure pasted on her face, Ana entered the home of President John Atkins. He was giving the party for his non-teaching staff. It wasn’t until she entered
the big stone-and-cedar home on the border between Queens and Brooklyn that she realized coming here with Mark, who’d also been invited, might affect Jared’s reputation negatively. Of course, people knew about the divorce. But his affair hadn’t gone public, thank God. Still, she didn’t want to flaunt the fact that she’d left him. She couldn’t be friends with him, but she didn’t want to hurt him.