Wait for Me (28 page)

Again, I remembered the socializing comment. He had a point. And even though we were surrounded by people, I felt guilty sitting on that bench with Tom, knowing that he was on the other side of the country.

“Well, I can always hope that you'll be ‘off' again soon.”

“Sorry?”

“You know what I mean Sophie,” and touched my nose with his index finger. “You know where to find me.”

“You're very brazen aren't you?”

He started laughing. “I'm kidding, of course I hope that things work out, but just in case they don't… my door is open.”

“Right, thanks,” and I laughed at his daring.

“Keep it in mind.”

Sabrina's arrival rescued me from this moment. I went back inside to resume my
maître d'alcoholics
position. At 3 a.m., the last guests trickled out. I slid into bed, fully dressed and wrote a message to Adam.

*

After work the following day, I went home without my grouchy room mate. Sabrina was out for dinner with Steph and some of their friends. Not long after 8 p.m., Adam called me on Skype. Seeing his face made me feel a little less homesick.

I told him all about the party, omitting Tom's proposition, then noticed that he was wearing a bow tie.

“Are you going out?” I asked.

“Yeah I'm going to a gala – it's for a foundation that my mother sponsors.”

“What kind of foundation?” I asked curiously.

“They subsidize stem-cell research.”

“Wow,” I muttered, surprised.

He laughed. “It's also a way to spend tax-free profit,” he added.

I heard a knock at his door and watched him stand up to open it. Seconds later he was back.

“I have to go. I'll call you later.”

“Okay.”

Just before he hung up, I saw a woman at the doorway in the background, wearing a shimmering evening dress. I didn't have time to ask about her before the familiar Skype chime closed the call.

Who the hell was that? I sent him a text transcribing these words. He didn't reply.

I waited five minutes before I decided to call him, but voicemail informed me that he was unavailable.

What could I do? Naturally, I spent the evening tormenting myself before the television, calling him over and over. At midnight, Sabrina and Steph came home. I didn't mention the cold stab of jealously that had been tearing through me all night. Then, he finally returned my calls. I instantly blurted: “Who was she?”

“Sophie!”

“Who the fuck was she? The woman at your bedroom door!”

“You mean my sister?” he answered quietly. “What's wrong with you?”

“And why weren't you answering your phone? I've been trying to call you all night.”

“My battery was dead – you know they never last the whole day.”

“Adam, you wouldn't lie to me would you?”

“Sophie, are you joking? I thought I was the one with the terminal jealousy… but it looks like you've caught it too.”

“I'm not joking.”

“Sophie that was my youngest sister, Brenda. Listen to me will you? I'm home alone. Call me on Skype so you can see.”

I grabbed my laptop and, a moment later, Adam's face appeared on the video.

“I'll show you a picture of her.” He held up a photograph about the size of a pinhead.

“That could be anybody! All I saw was a body in a dress.”

He started laughing. “What can I do to re-assure you?”

“Come home,” I answered.

“I wish I could,” he sighed. “I just need a little more time to sort these properties.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too.” He blew me a kiss.

“I'll be home on Friday and the first thing I'll do is come and get you from the store, then you can verify that I'm still yours.”

“I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me.”

“I do. It happens to me every time you leave the house, but I have to learn.”

“Me too. I'm just scared.”

“Do you feel better now?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Sleep well and we'll talk tomorrow – call me as soon as you wake up. I'll be waiting.”

“Okay, night.”

I had never felt jealousy like this, but then, I had never been so in love. I was beginning to understand just how deep the anguish could run – how truly Adam must have suffered.

The following days were of boredom and waiting, until Wednesday evening when Sabrina and I closed the store and ran into Tom outside. I was a little reserved in my greeting.

“My door is right across the street, remember?”

I smiled at the reference. “Yeah, I remember.”

“We're trying to finish a project so we'll be working into the night. I was going to grab some food around the corner if you want to join me?”

Sabrina shrugged. “Yeah, why not – Steph is at her mom's tonight anyway.”

We walked to the pizzeria on the corner. Sabrina's presence was comforting so I was willing to agree to this. Until, right in the middle of dinner, Tom brought up the concert which was now only a day away.

“That's one of the bands that you like isn't it?” asked Sabrina.

“Yeah, I listen to them a lot.”

“I already asked Sophie if she wanted to come along but she has plans,” Tom said.

Sabrina gave me a look.

“Yeah, I have plans,” I said, pretending not to notice it.

“Watching TV and waiting for Adam to call you do not constitute plans,” she sneered.

“I still have three tickets. I bought spares for a few customers but they can't make it… if you want to come with us?”

Sabrina looked at me, and then answered with the unimaginable.

“Sure, see you out here at eight?”

“Great!” Tom replied, elated.

And so, without a choice, I accepted.

After dinner, we hailed a cab and waved goodbye to Tom. I turned on Sabrina.

“Why the hell did you say yes?”

“Because I know you'll have a good time and you never would have gone alone.”

“Oh god.”

“What's the problem? It's a concert.”

“Yeah, but he likes me. He made that very clear at Steph's party.”

“But you told him you're with someone, right?”

“Of course I did – he said he hopes we break up.”

“The audacity,” she laughed.

“What do I tell Adam?” I asked, panicking.

“The truth – you're going to a concert and that his officially elected chaperone will be there.”

I sighed and sank into the seat.

“What are you afraid of?” she asked.

Myself, I thought.

“Nothing. I'm not afraid of anything.”

“Good. Sophie, it's really just a concert.”

Back home, I talked to Adam. Incredibly, he didn't react. If anything he was a little removed.

“Is anything the matter?”

“No, I'm just tired from the negotiations.”

“What are you negotiating?”

I had not asked much about the reasons for his trip, and I wondered if there were some legal complications from his marriage.

“Family stuff. It's just impossible getting everybody to agree.”

I didn't want to pry; it was better if he resolved the issue before I started with the questions.

“I can't wait to see you again. I can't stand this.”

“Me too, Sophie.”

We said goodbye with the promise to speak the following day.

The next morning, his tone was much more upbeat. It was only one day until we would see each other again – a reason for both of us to feel happy.

As agreed, Sabrina and I met Tom at 8 p.m. outside the book store and took a cab to Madison Square Garden. Those electrifying minutes before the start of a concert are even more charged when it's
Sigur Rós
; the anticipation before a trip. Armed with our beers, we managed to shift ourselves close to the stage. The lights went down and a blue spotlight signaled the first notes of
Glosoli
. An enchanted atmosphere gripped the arena. The crowd were respectfully silent before the high-pitched tones of the legendary Jón Þor Birgisson, suspended in dreamlike harmony as the song rose to its thundering crescendo. Only then did the audience break into uproar. After the first three songs, Tom disappeared and returned a few minutes later with more beer. We inhaled them.

Two songs later and I was disembodied; hypnotized by those surreal and haunting melodies.

Sabrina motioned that she was going to buy more drinks but I only vaguely noticed, entranced as I was by the music. As
Saeglopur
began, the audience rushed forwards and Tom and I were carried by the motion. He took my hand to keep us together. The movement eased and a gap opened up before us. We moved as one to those yearning notes. As we edged out of the crush, I realized that Tom's arms were around me and his lips an inch from mine. Caught by surprise, I angled my head away, then, transported by the music and magnetized towards him, I let myself go, entering a breath-taking kiss. There was a note of tragedy; the final kiss before night falls and you close your eyes forever. I savoured that tongue, so new and amorous. On the final notes, I opened my eyes and broke away from his grasp. I withdrew to search for Sabrina, who I found, still queuing, after a frantic search of the lobby bar.

“Sabrina, we have to go,” I said, pulling her.

“Are you kidding? This is incredible.”

“Sabrina, I have to go.”

A moment later, Tom was beside us looking serious. “I'll get the drinks,” he said. “Go and enjoy the show.”

Sabrina, oblivious, headed back towards the arena as Tom took my hand and dragged me behind a pillar.

“What is it?” he asked, still holding my arm. “Are you feeling bad about Adam Scott?”

It was like falling through the ice. The pieces fell together. Tom, architect, Elizabeth, architect, building, real estate, Tom, best friend. I froze before those vengeful blue eyes. It couldn't be. It was a movie – the plot of some desperate tragedy. Amidst eight million people in the city, I had landed in the center of this tragic triangle.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“Whatever belongs to Adam,” he said, almost touching my face. “I want to see him get what he deserves. I want to see him burn.”

“What… are you saying?”

“I want to see that he loses everything, just like I lost everything.”

“Are you accusing him of Elizabeth's death?” I asked, astonished. “It was an accident.”

“No it wasn't. The night she died, Adam saw… he attacked her.” He held me against the wall.

The man before me was desperate and blinded by hate. I felt pity.

“It was nobody's fault – these things happen on their own terms.”

“These things do not happen on their own terms. Every single action has a chain of effect.”

“Yeah, okay, let's say you're right. Then you can't blame Adam without blaming yourself, without blaming Elizabeth either. If you'd been honest – if you really loved one another – then you would have told Adam long before and things might have been different.”

Tom looked at me with fury. “I am not to blame.”

Sabrina ran over and pulled me away from him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she screamed.

“She loved him, always and forever,” he said, and disappeared.

“What the fuck was that?” asked Sabrina, yanking at my arm.

“Let's just go. I'll explain once we get out of this shitty place,” I cried.

On the subway, I told her everything and, before we knew it, we had reached our destination.

“That's the most insane story I've ever heard,” she said, hailing a cab. “You know what the odds of meeting him by chance are? In New York, no less? Probably about one in fifty million!”

“But I did meet him. All that's missing now is the dead wife.”

“Fuck, Sophie, it's like a movie.”

“That's what I thought.”

“What are you going to do? Are you going to tell Adam?”

“I don't want to, but I have to.”

“Are you scared?”

“Yes,” I muttered. “Either he leaves or he kills me.”

“You want me to be there when you tell him? I can say he was harassing you.”

“Harassing me,” I said under my breath. “No, Sabrina, it's best if I do it alone. But if you haven't heard from me by about eleven tomorrow night, send a search and rescue party.”

The rest of the journey was silent. My mind was stuck on that damned kiss. What was I thinking? What had I done? There was no excuse. Back home, I had a message from Adam on my phone.

Get ready for Judgment Day, I thought, slipping under the sheets. And the following morning inevitably arrived. Steph was waiting to have breakfast with me – Sabrina had told her everything during the night. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around me and held me for a full minute in front of the hissing coffee machine. I spent the morning rehearsing what I was going to say, bursting into tears each time I relived the concert and that foolish kiss. How could I say it without breaking his heart? And, especially after his confession, what could I hope to expect?

At 3 p.m. I arrived at work. I completed the wrapping as usual, but always with the corner of my eye fixed on the staircase. At 5 p.m., Adam appeared, looking particularly striking. I saw Sabrina shiver and sink behind the monitor at the sight of his unsuspecting, disarming smile.

“I have returned!” he said from the doorway.

I tried to smile too.

“Sabrina, I'm just going out for a minute.”

She sprang up to walk me to the door.

“You're telling him now?” she whispered.

I shook my head.

Outside the store, Adam took me in his arms.