Friendly Persuasion (19 page)

“Since when does Kara the Dogged meekly accept delays? Go out there, wrestle him to the ground if you have to.”

Tina didn’t even jump to Kara’s defense with a smart remark. Something bad had happened with Tom the night before and they hadn’t been able to talk about it—or about her breakup with Ross. They would talk tonight over drinks. Many drinks.

“Ross, you’re handling the art department so well, why don’t you see what you can do with these two?” Saul finally said.

“I’ll give ’em all she’s got, Cap’n,” Ross said in a halfhearted Scotty-from-
Star-Trek
voice. He shot Kara a sheepish smile.

They’d managed to stay genial, but she could hardly bear to be around him. The sound of his voice made her shake; brushing past him in the hall made her pulse pound; eye contact was like a match in kindling. She ached for what they’d lost, relived every moment of that glorious weekend of love, when she thought they had it all. If she’d known how quickly it would end, she’d have focused more on the details, taken notes, maybe videotaped it like Tina had once jokingly suggested when it was just a game.

She tried to stay busy and keep positive. Her goal now was to hang on to her friendship with Ross. But how could they stay friends after what they’d shared? The thought of Ross sleeping with another woman—which he soon would, if she knew him—felt like touching a hot stove. She’d broken all the ground rules, one by one, saving the best for last—friendship first. She wanted Ross in her life, but there was no longer a place for him there.

“I’m sorry things didn’t work out,” she said.

Tom shrugged, but he looked like a lost little boy. “I don’t get it. I did everything I could. And she was happy. I know she was.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, not knowing what else to say. She’d tried to find out what had happened, but Tina had put her off until tonight.

“I would never hurt her,” Tom continued, misery in his voice. “I care about her. I…” He hesitated. “I love her.”

“I know. It’s hard.” It disturbed her to see such a big, serene man hunched over in pain, blurting his private sorrow to someone he barely knew.
Give her time,
she wanted to say, but she had no idea whether Tina would ever come around.

Kara and Tom were still looking gloomily at each other when Tina entered the Upside. Kara watched her march in, head held high, until she caught sight of Tom. Then she faltered, snatched her lip between her teeth and blurted, “Let’s sit here.” She nodded at a high cocktail table to her left and away from the bar.

“Sure,” Kara said with a last, commiserating look at Tom before she joined her friend. Tina sat with her back to the bar and Kara saw she was trembling. “Why don’t you talk to him? He loves you,” Kara said.

“But I don’t love him. It’s as simple as that.”

“I don’t think it’s simple at all.”

“Please.” She shot Kara a glare with tear-filled eyes. “No lectures. I can’t talk about it. Let’s just be friends and drink.”

Kara decided for once Tina was right. She surely didn’t want Tina’s opinions about the Ross situation. When the waitress brought their drinks, Tina held up her Harvey Wallbanger to click against Kara’s. “What a mess we’re in,” she said. “I should never have started all this—hitting on Tom and getting you mixed up with Ross. If I ever again suggest you try it my way, smack me.”

“Live and learn, right?” Kara sounded way more philosophical than she felt.

“Here’s to the G-Spot Pleasure Wand,” Tina said, raising her glass. “Sex in all its battery-operated glory. A mechanical solution to a biological problem. Get another person involved and it gets all messy.”

“Here, here.” Kara clicked her glass against Tina’s so hard their drinks sloshed.

They nursed their drinks and danced around their respective heartbreaks. After a while, Kara noticed they’d slowly shifted their chairs until Tina faced the bar and was following Tom’s every move, while Kara watched the door for Ross to rush in, admit the error of his ways and demand they live happily ever after.

“This is fun, huh?” Tina said hopefully. “Talking this all through—woman to woman?”

“A blast,” Kara answered, trying to smile.

“I know.” Tina slumped. “I’m miserable, too.”

Kara held out her glass for Tina to tap. “To misery,” she said.

“And company,” Tina added.

Not long after that, they gave up and headed home.

“Of course you can. Come here, you.” His mother pulled him into a tight hug. “Jaaake,” his mother shouted down the stairs to the basement, blasting Ross’s ears. “Ross is here!”

“Hey, Ross!” his father called up.

Ross answered him.

“Your father thinks he’s antiquing the dining-room chairs,” his mother said. “I’m shopping for a new set, just in case. Come help me with the egg salad. When your father gets done destroying the furniture, he’ll be starving for some bad cholesterol.” She shook her head in dismay.

Had his parents stayed together out of habit like he thought? They hadn’t divorced when his sisters left for school, as Kara had pointed out, but he hadn’t thought about the significance of that. The truth was he’d never spent any time thinking about his parents as people. They were just…parents.

Ross followed his mother into the warm and sunny kitchen, which hadn’t changed since he’d left home. He found the eggs in the same copper-bottomed pot his mother always used, soaking in cold water in the sink. He drained the eggs and began cracking and peeling, while his mother removed ingredients from the refrigerator.

“How are you liking your new job?” she asked.

Here we go.
“It’s not a new job, Mom. I’m just filling in until they get somebody to take over.”

She turned to him, cutting board in hand. “Why would they want anyone else when they have you?”

They didn’t, actually. Saul kept telling him how great he was doing. And, the truth was that after what happened with Kara it was a relief to stay busy with absorbing work. “I don’t know. We’ll see.”

His mother put down the cutting board and began chopping celery. “Your father and I are very proud of you. You’re coming into your own. Now all you have to do is find that special someone.”

He felt kicked in the gut.
But I already found her. And lost her.
Or rather,
gave her up.
He couldn’t talk about Kara with his mother. It was too new, too raw, so he turned the tables on her. “Are you and Dad happy?”

“What?” She looked startled. “Are we happy?” She blinked, then turned back to her work. “Sure. We have a fine life.”

“But you used to say that if it weren’t for us kids, you’d travel, see places, meet people.”

She laughed softly. “When did I say that? Probably when you kids were fighting or your father was hiding behind the newspaper, right?”

“I don’t know.”

“I was young. People say things when they’re young. You used to tell me you were catching a bus for New York every time we made you do your homework.”

“Maybe.” But he’d seen the longing in her eyes, her frustration and disappointment.

Even now, she was staring out the window, lost in thought. “I’ve felt restless at times,” she said finally, handing him a knife to cut up the eggs he’d peeled. “But I settled down.”

Or just plain settled. Maybe his father and he and his sisters had worn her down, trapped her in this hamster wheel of a life.

“Don’t worry,” she said, smiling at him. She reached up and messed his hair the way she used to when he was a kid. “It’s good that you waited until you were old enough to know what you want.”

But did he know? He’d thought he wanted Kara, but had he really? Maybe he had the same restless soul his mother did. He loved Kara now, but how long would it last?

“Where’s that son of mine?” his father hollered from the basement. “Get down here and give your old man a hand.”

“Go on, dear. I’ll finish up. Bring him up in fifteen minutes for lunch, and tell me how many chairs he’s ruined.”

Ross put down the knife, wiped his hands dry and headed downstairs.

“Good to see you, son.” His father hugged him and slapped him on the back so hard it stung. “You need money?”

“I’m fine.”

“Of course you’re fine. You’re a big deal manager now.” His father surveyed him with pride in his eyes.

“Only on an interim basis. Until they hire someone else.”

His father shrugged, handed him a brush and pointed at a chair. Judging from the unevenness, drips and streaks on the other ones, his mother would be buying that new dining-room set for sure.

“Tell me about this interim job,” his father said.

Ross started talking and before he knew it his mother was shouting down at them that lunch was ready, and he realized he’d been going nonstop for twenty minutes.

“A shame the job’s only temporary,” his dad said, not looking at him. “Since you like it so much.”

“I don’t like it,” he said, pausing. “I don’t hate it. I mean, I
like
it, but that doesn’t mean I
want
it.” He thought about yesterday, when he’d been so immersed in planning the production schedule that he hadn’t looked up until after six and hadn’t thought twice about missing his usual pickup game of b-ball. “It’s not that bad a job. It’s interesting and all.”

“Give it time. You’ll grow into it,” his father said. “Nothing good comes easy.”

“I guess.” Maybe he would talk to Saul about trying it for a few more months. At the very least, the work was helping him get over Kara. And he needed something for that. Whenever he thought of her, his heart got a little smaller and tighter. Right now it was a pea-sized knot rattling around in his chest. He frowned and dipped into the stain so hard some slopped over the sides.

“Pretty soon you’ll be buying your own place, finding a nice girl and making a home together,” his father mused. “Your mother would love some grandkids to spoil.”

Now his dad was on him, too. Harassment and love—the double-edged sword of being home.

“Did things turn out the way you expected, Dad?” he asked abruptly. “I mean with Mom and the marriage.”

His father stopped misapplying the stain and turned to him. “Nothing’s ever quite what you expect, Ross, but your mother and I made a nice life.”

“Come on up, boys.” His mother’s voice drifted down to them.

“What about Mom?” Ross said, putting the brush in the can of turpentine. “She always said the family tied her down.”

His father chuckled, putting his brush away, too. “You don’t understand your mother, Ross. Complaining is her way.” His father studied his face. “You don’t believe me? I’ll let you in on a secret. Your mother left us once.”

“What?”

“Remember when she went to help her sister in Austin?”

“Vaguely.”

“You were too young to grasp much, thank goodness. It was a trial separation. Really threw me for a loop. But she came back after only a month. She didn’t talk about it and I never pressed her, but I know that your mother realized she was happier here with me and you kids and all the hassles that went with us than off on her own.”

“Are you sure?”

“Let me show you something.” His father led the way upstairs and pointed to the wall of family photos—shots of him and his sisters in the yard, at their cabin on Oak Creek, in the hotel they used to go to in Flagstaff for a taste of snow each winter, picnics at Encanto Park, Thanksgiving dinners, trips to Disneyland.

“Now these are from the last three years since the girls went off to school.” His father pointed at a display beside the grandfather clock that featured the Oak Creek cabin, Flagstaff, even Disneyland. Except these photos held just his parents.

“You kids are gone and aren’t we the world travelers?” his father said, his eyes twinkling. “So much for Europe and China and the Peace Corps, like your mother always said she wanted.”

“Why don’t you go?”

“I’m game. But your mom likes our life. That’s what I’m telling you. With your mother, complaining is a habit. She saw herself as giving up her freedom, but she really got what she wanted. Kind of like you with that new job of yours, eh?” His dad winked and jabbed him in the ribs with a sharp elbow.

The elbow wasn’t the only jab Ross felt.

Was complaining just a habit with him, too? To keep from admitting the truth—that he liked his new job? “So, you and Mom are happy?” he asked his dad.

“Deliriously. But don’t tell your mother. You’ll upset her.” Again his father winked. Then he looked serious, his eyes intent. “It’s sad, though, that she’s scared of her own happiness—like it’ll disappear if she admits she feels it.” He shook his head, held his son’s gaze. “Don’t be like that, Ross. Don’t be afraid to be happy. Trust your heart.”

Emotion clogged Ross’s throat. For a second, he wanted his dad to give him another one of those painful bear hugs, but he’d already headed into the kitchen. Ross followed him, arriving in time to see his father lean in to kiss his mother.

“You reek of turpentine,” she said, scrunching her nose. But she kissed him and then looked into his eyes, and for the first time in his life, Ross saw how much his parents cared for each other. They’d stayed together not because of him and his sisters or any hamster wheel of habit, but because they loved each other. Deeply.

Watching them embrace, Ross flashed on a picture of him with Kara in a house they might share—with his art and her kitchenware, his turntable and her big firm bed. Why couldn’t they be like his parents, who were different but found a way to be together? A way based on love.

Maybe he had been limiting himself. Telling himself he couldn’t commit to a job or a person just as his mother had told herself she was trapped by the family she loved. She’d been foolish, wasted time, made her children feel insecure and her husband uncertain. Ross didn’t want to do that.

I just don’t want to see you lose out because of a false view of yourself.
That’s what Kara had said about the job she’d shoved him into. Maybe she’d been right. Now he was doing the job, which he’d been half-afraid he couldn’t handle, and now enjoyed. As much of a pain in the ass as Kara’s pushing could be, it might be exactly what he needed.

Don’t be afraid to be happy,
his father had said.
Trust your heart.
And his heart told him he needed Kara—to challenge him, to push him, to love him. And, for the first time, he knew he wouldn’t let her down.

She, on the other hand, might not be so sure of that. He’d have to show her. He’d start by doing something about this job. First thing Monday morning, he’d talk to Siegel about it. He’d maybe even go into Macy’s and check out one of those suits, though that made him shudder. A minor problem, really. If Kara and he worked together, surely they could be happy without getting trapped in any hamster wheel. It wouldn’t be easy, but, like his dad said, what good thing was?