The Weight of Gravity (35 page)

There was a note from Erika when Max checked his mail that evening.

Max – I was pleased to see your note.  You must be very busy.  Wonderful news about the new book.  I’m very proud of you, but I’ve always thought you were an incredibly gifted writer -- the best!  I can’t wait to buy it.  I’ll check the bookstore every day.  You didn’t tell me about this new story before you left Cottonwood.  What is it about?  Write soon. – E.

Max responded immediately.  It was always easy for him to talk about his stories when people asked.

Erika – thanks for asking about the book, but it will be some time before you find it in the bookstore
s.  The story is about a middle-aged man who goes back to his roots in North Carolina to find himself.  Sound familiar? My trip to Cottonwood definitely provided impetus for the story. My protagonist buys a sailboat and hires a local woman to teach him to sail.  Anyway, the story is about what he learns about himself in his journey home.  Don’t bother to buy it when it hits the shelves.  I’ll send you a copy – signed, of course. – Max.

             
Max couldn’t help himself.  He checked his mail before going to bed.  It was three hours earlier in Cottonwood, he reasoned. 

             
Max – I’m not sure I can wait.  If I see the book, I’ll buy a copy and give it to Cindy at the shop when I get your signed copy.  House is very empty.  Jay left today for Colorado.  He’s talking about joining a band.  At his age?  I don’t think so!  Kids, you know?  You’re lucky you never had to go through this.  I think I’m finally pulling it together.  I’m not happy about how things turned out in my marriage, but it’s going to be okay.  Miss you, Max.  – E.

             
Max turned off the computer and lights, and went to bed.  He’d write tomorrow and tell her he’d always regretted not having children of his own.

             
Caroline slipped into bed about one thirty in the morning.  She mumbled something about a late evening hopping clubs in Soho with the mishpocheh, her close friends.  They rose together the next morning and left for breakfast.  The note to Erika would have to wait.

Chapter 46
– Erika

              In Cottonwood, Erika checked her e-mail before breakfast. 
Nothing.
 
Maybe later.  I’ll wait to hear from him before I write again.  Don’t want to pester.
  She left the computer to answer the phone.

             
“I expected your call last night, Jay.”

             
“I’ve been busy, making friends up here, you know?”

             
“Would I like them?”

             
“Hell if I know, Mother.  Do you like any of my friends?  I didn’t call to small-talk.”

             
“Joining a band isn’t a topic for discussion, I told you that.  I’m sure your grandparents agree with me.”

             
“They don’t care.  It gets me out of their hair, too.”

             
“I didn’t send you there to get you out of my hair, Jay.”

             
“Mom, I want to stay up here a while longer.”

             
“Spring term starts in mid January.  Are you planning to go to school there?”

             
“Yeah, maybe.  Granddad said I could.”

             
She put her free hand to her head.  Her voice was almost a whisper now.  “Why are you doing this?”

             
“I don’t know.  Maybe I don’t want to be around there to listen to you and Dad fight all the time.”

             
“Your Dad moved out.  You know that.”

             
“Hasn’t stopped the fighting though, right?”

             
She wiped a tear from her chin and bit her lip, struggling to not let Jay know that she was crying.  “I don’t hear from your Dad that often, and he doesn’t come over any more.”

             
“Well, maybe that’s another reason to stay up here.”

             
“Meaning what?”

             
“Meaning I kind’a like being around a married couple who love each other.”

             
“I see.”  She cleared her throat. “And these new friends.”

             
“Yeah, they’re cool.”

             
I’m losing him.  If I let him stay, he may never come home again.  
“How do my parents feel about that … you staying there?”

             
“They’re all right about it.   They understand … you know?”

             
“Understand?”

             
“That it wasn’t very happy for me living there.”

             
How much of this is honest and how much is bullshit?
  “Things have changed here, but you know that.  You weren’t happy living here because we put rules on you.  That’s what you don’t like about Cottonwood.”

             
“That’s another thing.  That fucking town is way too small.”

             
“Watch the language.”

             
“Yeah, okay.  So, can I stay a while longer?”

             
You’re going to lose him.
  “How long?”

             
“Maybe ‘til the end of the school year.  Until the summer.”

             
“Then what, you come back here for your senior year?”

             
“Yeah, that’s it.  Sure.  I graduate from old Cottonwood High, just like you and Dad.  Carry on the family tradition and all.”             

You’ve lost him.
  “Stay, Jay.  We’ll talk later about
when
you’ll come home.  I do want you to come home.  I think your father would also like you back in Cottonwood.”

             
“Whatever.  Thanks.”

             
“I miss you, son.”

             
“Yeah, you too.  You want to speak to Granddad?”

             
My son’s gone.
  “Sure.  I better check whether this arrangement is
really
all right with them.  They may be telling you they’re okay with this to keep their only grandchild happy.” 

             
Her father confirmed that they were glad to have Jay stay until the dust settled from the divorce.  Jay seemed happy living there, he told her.  He’d made friends and was often over at their houses.  This revelation troubled Erika.  It was a red flag for his self-destructive behavior.  Too much idle time hangin’ with the homies, she thought.  They confirmed that Jay wanted to get a part-time job after school, which heartened Erika.  Maybe in Colorado her son would take his life and future more seriously.  Still, her heart ached to have him home – in his own room.

             
Erika returned to the computer and began to write. 
What do I have to lose?  I’ve lost the most important things already, haven’t I?

              “You have a lot of email in here, Max.”  Marcie was sitting at his computer.

             
“I haven’t had time to answer it, Marcie … been working on the final chapters.  Who’s in there I should worry about writing back?”

             
“Well, there’s a note from Peter, two from Doris, something from Hillary; she’s doing the film negotiations, remember?  If you ever finish this book,” she whispered loud enough for him to hear.  “You have three notes from someone named ‘REEKIE.’  Is that important?”

             
“She’s a woman I know from Cottonwood.  We kind of grew up together.  Leave it all.  I’ll answer it later.”

             
Erika – It’s late, the City is resting, but it never sleeps.  I never had the chance to tell you about my City.  For example, it would take you two years to dine at every restaurant if you chose a different place each night.  Most people know about Central Park, but don’t realize that New York City has dozens of smaller parks and gardens the length of Manhattan.  It is the little things I love best about living here.  Like the way light and shadow play across the landscape of the City every day … all day.  It literally changes moment-to-moment.  And when night falls, the pulse of New York City quickens.  It shouts at you to come out and play until the sun rises again, spilling warmth and light into the canyons of textured granite and polished steel.  Central Park, right outside my balcony windows, is my favorite.  It defines the City and the people who live here.  It’s magnificent!  Sometimes, when I’m sitting on my balcony, I’d swear I smell honeysuckle blossoms that line the paths on the east side of the Park.  I know that’s ridiculous.  I’m too high up.  But, if I close my eyes and concentrate, the aroma gets stronger and the sweet smell paints my thoughts in pastel colors.  Silly, huh?  Thank you for your notes ... all of them.  My assistant, Marcie, and I spent the day clearing off my desk.  I’m embarrassed to admit that I tend to let things pile up.  Every few days she and I dig through the mounds of paper and mail.  She’s much better than I am at sorting through it all.  Don’t know what I’d do without Marcie.  You asked, so I’ll tell you.  I’m still working on the final chapters of the book.  My agent, Peter, continues to tell me that he thinks it will be a hit.  He has a way of knowing these things – he’s very good at his job.  So, I guess I’ll have another winner … if I ever finish it.  Been a while since I wrote a good seller.  I was thinking tonight ... I want to thank you for helping me get to a place where I could write this book.  It’s very much like the old days, isn’t it?  You inspired me when we were teenagers, too.  I need to warn you that the principle female protagonist in this novel is modeled heavily on you … what I know about you.  I don’t think any of your friends will notice, necessarily, but you’re there ... as I see you in my mind.  Thank you for that, too.  If they decide to make a film of this book, who do you think should play you?  I’ve been thinking Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio.  She was the actress in
Robinhood
with Kevin Costner and
The Abyss
with Ed Harris.  Does that meet with your approval?  Actually, they never ask my opinion about these things.  Just depends on who the director is and who they think should play the part.  I’m sure that when you read the book ... and I hope you read it ... you’ll see yourself.  The book is the reason I haven’t written you in a few days.  I wanted to finish it … still working on it, though.  My life is pretty much back to normal here.  As I said, I love the City.  You’ll have to visit someday.  I have associates, but tend to keep to myself.  I’m dating someone I knew casually before I returned to Cottonwood.  Caroline has been a good friend for over a year now.  She and I often have lunch in Central Park.  She’s so very New York that she’d die if she ever had to live in a place like Cottonwood.   Can you imagine people like that? Well, this note has gone on for too long.  I wanted you to know that Peter, that’s my agent, has asked me to go on a brief book signing tour.  They’re releasing two of my older novels in a collection and they want me to help promote it.  Very unusual, really, to be promoting old stuff, but they think the collection will find a new market.  Four cities in a week, he said.  So, I’ll be on the road soon.  It doesn’t mean I’ll be out of touch.  I take a laptop along and Marcie travels with me.  I insist on it.  She plays a key role at these books signings.  I’ll tell you about it someday.  I’ll let you know when I’m hitting the road.  Take care.  Miss talking to you, too. – Max.

Chapter 48
– Erika

Dear Max – Your long note was wonderful.  Thank you for writing so much ... and for telling me about your work and life in the city.  It comes alive through your words.  I would like to visit New York some day ... to visit you.  Just need an invitation.

She
wrote the last sentence three times, deleting it twice, but deciding finally to leave it in her note.  She went on with her missive.

Marcie sounds like a gem.  I can understand how important she is to your work.  You’re lucky to have her.  It’s nice that you have so many friends, like Caroline.  I imagine a lot of people would like to be close with the famous Max Rosen.  So, I’m in your new novel.  I’m flattered.  Were you kind?  A book tour?  How exciting!  Will you be coming through Cottonwood?  Everyone would love to see you.  I’d love to see you. 

She wrote the last sentence twice, deleting it only once before deciding to leave it in.  It was getting harder for her to judge what to write Max.  She’d learned quickly that text messages, particularly when the words are emotionally laden, are notoriously ambiguous when it came to judging what the writer was honestly trying to say.  She continued.

Unlike you, I’m not into the dating scene yet.  I’m happy to report that Darrell moved out of town.  There aren’t too many eligible me
n in Cottonwood.  What there is can be pretty scary ;).  That’s a smiley face with a wink.  Did you get it?  You probably know all about these things, but I’m still learning.  Such great news about the collection … the re-release of your other novels.  I’d be thrilled to have Mastrantonio play me.  I’m flattered you think of me that way.  Do you think of me that way?