Hanging by a Thread (35 page)

Frowning, I turn to him, but he holds up one hand before I can open my mouth.

“Just hear me out. I mean, I suppose there's an off-chance I could be wrong—” his eyes meet mine for a brief moment, then he smiles “—but I doubt it. However, I believe people should be able to make decisions based on all available information, don't you? And I would think you'd want me to be completely honest with you.”

“Well, yes, I suppose. But what—?”

“I was going to invite you and Starr to come live in London with me.”

My jaw drops to my lap. “Are you out of your
mind?
”

He chuckles. “Oh, there's no doubt about that. But your reaction was even better than I expected.”

“For God's sake, Alan—we barely know each other!”

“Which was why I hadn't planned on saying anything just yet. But I've always wanted kids, and I'd love to have Starr closer so I could get to know her better. And I'd love to have you closer so I could get to know you better, too. And I've talked to some people in the fashion business over there who are very interested in seeing what you've got. I don't think it would be difficult to find serious backing, if you're really interested in going out on your own.”

He probably wonders why I've just burst into semihysterical laughter. But the last thing I expected when I got out of bed this morning was that, before dinnertime, I'd have, not one, but
two
offers to set me up in business. D'you think somebody's trying to tell me something?

“Alan. This is New York. I can start my own business right here, you know.”

His eyes fix on mine, cool and silver and confident, just long enough to rattle me. “Believe it or not, Ellie, there's a whole world outside of New York.”

I stare blankly at him for several seconds, then face front and stare blankly out the windshield, until something approaching coherent thought sifts through the shock. He's offering me a dream on a stick. Real backing, not just a bunch of women pooling a few thousand dollars to start up a line in an old storefront in Queens. The chance to live in London. And the attentions of the kind of man schleps like me just don't ever figure on having cross their path, you know? And my God, what an incredible opportunity it would be for Starr, right? And the best part is, I could work into all of it gradually, instead of being forced to make a life-altering decision in forty-eight hours.

“Ellie?”

I look over at him…and shake my head.

He just nods.

“One question,” I say. “If you knew what my answer was likely to be, why'd you ask me anyway?”

“Because at least this way I
know.
As much as it stings, it's still far better than spending the rest of my life beating myself up because I didn't have the balls to find out.” He reaches over and squeezes my hand. Just for a second. “Now you can tell me something. And I want you to think very carefully about your answer. Are you saying ‘no' because you're afraid to take a chance?”

“No,” I say, immediately and without reservation. “I'm saying ‘no' because as tempting as your offer is, it's not what I want.”

And with that, I can feel the last puny thread connecting me to whatever the hell I thought I needed to be connected
to
give way, sending me into a surprisingly exhilarating freefall.

“Do you believe in love at first sight, Ellie?” I hear through the whooshing in my ears as I spin and twirl, buoyed aloft by the currents of my own chutzpah.

“Yes,” I whisper. Then I turn to him. “Do you?”

“I didn't think so, until I met you and Starr.”

I half think of bringing up the less-than-inspiring kiss. But what would be the point? “Oh, God, Alan…I'm so sorry—”

“Don't be. As I said, I'd rather know where things stand for sure than wonder.” He looks over at me. “Should I turn around?”

“Yes,” I say, my heart beating so hard it hurts.

F
irst things first. I track Frances down at her office and give her a check for five thousand bucks so she can make the offer. There's no guarantee this will even happen—if someone else bids more, I could lose out—but that's not the point. The point is, I'm ready to put my great big butt on the line and work myself half to death because I
will
die if I don't try. Because whether I live for another seventy years or another week, what's the point if I'm not living the life I want? And I vow that I can do this and still be a good mother, a mother my daughter can be proud of, a mother
I
can be proud of.

Then, after I've signed what seems like a thousand papers, I look at Frances, sitting across her desk from me, and announce, “I'm in love with your son.”

Her head jerks up; her navy silk blouse ripples from her flinch. Then, slowly, a wide grin spreads across her jaw. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I'm sure—” I frown. “You mean, you don't mind?”

“Mind? Why the hell would I mind?”

“Because I'm an irreligious half-Jew who's never going to be anything but an irreligious half-Jew?”

Her brows crash together over her nose. “You think I only care about labels?”

“Well, I…”

“I'll tell you what you are, little girl. You're somebody who loved her grandfather and is doing a terrific job of raising her kid and who's always thought of other people before you thought of yourself. Maybe sometimes too much, but we can work on that,” she adds with a crooked smile. “And you won't crush my son with your love. At least, I don't think you will.”

I sit up straighter in my chair. “Not if I can help it.”

“Then I don't see a problem here, do you?”

“But I thought you loved Tina?”

Her mouth purses; she frowns at the blotter on her desk for a couple of seconds before her gaze meets mine again. “I did. Still do. That doesn't mean I thought she should've been my daughter-in-law.”

“You didn't approve of the marriage?”

“Not particularly. But one of the hardest things about being a mother is accepting that just because you give your kids life, that doesn't give you the right to live it for them. Or to force them to learn lessons they're not ready to learn.” She sighs, and shakes her head. “My mother carped about every single choice I made, to the point that by the time she died, we were barely speaking. That's not the relationship I wanted with my kids. So maybe I wasn't all that hot on the idea of Luke marrying Tina. Maybe I could see she had problems I didn't think he was ready or able to deal with. And God knows there were times that I had to remove myself from the room so I wouldn't say something I shouldn't. But in the long run, I think I saved all
of us a lot of
agita.
And the boy is still talking to me, right?” Then, grinning, she leans forward. “So…what's Luke got to say about all this?”

“Actually…I haven't told him yet.”

Her brows shoot up. “Then what the hell are you doing here?”

“Stalling?”

“You're afraid he doesn't return your feelings?”

The hairs stand up on the back of my neck. “I have no idea. Do you?”

“Like I would tell you, even if I knew.” She gets up and comes around her desk, clapping her hands like an overly enthusiastic P.E. teacher. “Come on, come on—what are you waiting for?”

I get up, only to discover my knees aren't working so hot. There's so much more I want to say, want to ask her. But my tongue feels swollen and stiff in my mouth as she hugs me, then turns me around and gently pushes me out the door.

Aiyiyi. Whose idea was it to cut that last thread, anyway?

 

It's late enough that Luke should be home by now. And sure enough, I see the Blazer sitting in the parking lot as I approach his building. I park in one of the visitor's spaces, around the corner from his entrance. If I lower my chin, I'll drown in the sweat backed up in my cleavage.

If I don't hurl first.

With a wince, I peel my damp palms off the steering wheel, open my car door, force first one foot, then the other, onto the slightly squishy blacktop in the parking lot.

Okay. I'm out of the car.

Now I'm walking away from the car. Toward Luke's side of the building. Muttering to myself. Mostly stuff like, “What's the worst thing that can happen? He'll laugh in my face, I'll be completely humiliated and never be able to go next door for Sunday dinner again. Other than that…
Oh!
”

Preoccupied with my own fascinating conversation, I don't
notice Tina veering around the corner until our boobs practically collide.

“What the hell are you doing here?”
we both shriek, except before I can reply, Tina says, “If you came to see Luke—” Like I'm here to take a stroll around the grounds, what? “—he's not there.”

“His car's in the lot.”

“Well,
he's not there,
what can I tell you?”

I cross my arms under my breasts. “So how come you're here?”

“None of your business.” She pushes past me. “See ya.”

“Teen, wait—”

“I've got nothin' to say to you, Ellie.”

I totter to catch up with her. “C'mon, don't be like this—”

She whirls around. “Like
what?
Like poor, unstable Tina who needs to be handled with kid gloves?”

“Okay, honey, let's talk about this—”

“You wanna talk? Fine, I'll
talk.
” She gets right in my face, hands on hips, eyes glittering like ice. “You and your big ideas about bein'
honest,
all that shit about clearing the air. I told him the truth, like you said I should. So what does he do? Offers to pay for me to go into therapy.”

Not that she needs it or anything.

“Teen, honey…” I try to touch her arm, but she slaps my hand away.

“All those years you let me think you were my best friend, that I could totally trust you, when here you slept with Luke behind my back. I mean,
Christ
—do you really expect me to just go, ‘yeah, whatever,' like it doesn't matter?”

“Of course not! But Jesus, Teen—it was
one time.
One stupid, lousy, bombed-out-of-our-minds time that didn't mean anything, when you two weren't even together. Don't you see? There was nothing
to
tell. Especially since we knew how much it would hurt you—”

“That's right, let's not do anything to hurt poor little Tina, 'cause God knows she's too fragile to take it! God knows, Tina can't handle the
truth!
” She emphasizes the last word by shoving me in the shoulder with the heel of her hand.

“Hey—!”

“Let's do everything we can—” another shove “—to protect poor little Tina—” and another, making me stumble backwards “—from reality—”

“Teen, cut it out—”

“What kind of
friend
pulls that kind of shit, huh? I thought friends were supposed to stick together, to support each other?”

Heat flooding my face, I get right smack in hers. “What the
hell
do you think I've been doing all these years? Who got out of your way when you said you had a thing for Luke, huh? Who kept her trap shut about how she really felt, because I wouldn't have hurt you for the world?”

She rears back, her eyes wide. “So you
are
in love with Luke!”

“Oh for God's sake, Tina—I've been in love with Luke since the
first grade.
”

Nothing prepares me for the hot sting of her slap across my face.

But even less prepares me for my reaction.

With a roar, I lunge for her, sending us both down into a bed of impatiens. A
just watered
bed of impatiens.

Twenty-eight years old, four years at Richmond Hill High, and this is my first bona fide chick fight. Or would have been, had not a hand come out of nowhere and dragged me off Tina, hauling me to my feet before either of us could inflict serious damage.

“Jesus, you two!” Luke reaches out to heave Tina to her feet as well. She spits out an impatiens petal, I ponder whether I could be any more mortified. I decide not. “What the hell is going on?”

Tina looks at me. And spits out another petal.

I try to swallow the laugh, but nope. Out it pops, like some guy shot from a cannon.

And damn if Tina doesn't start laughing, too.

We fall into each other's arms, laughing so hard we end up back in the impatiens, hanging on to each other and spewing apologies and picking wet petals out of each other's hair, while Luke stands there muttering, “Women.”

Eventually, our laughter subsides to occasional chuckles and lots of undereye-tissue-dabbing. Tina points a finger at me and says, “Don't go anywhere,” then clambers to her feet, digging a large envelope out of her purse to hand to Luke.

As I hoist myself upright as well, I see his eyes shoot to her face.

“They're all signed,” she says.

“Teen…” He sighs. “You didn't have to bring them.”

“Yeah. I did. I needed…I just had to do this in person, y'know?” She grabs his arm, then lifts up to give him a kiss on the cheek. “And now I need you to get lost so Ellie and me can talk.”

His brow creased, he looks at me. “Aren't you supposed to be on a date?”

I shrug. “It's over.”

“Should I understand anything that's going on here?”

“No,” Tina and I say in unison, although Tina adds, “Although you might not want to go far. Things might clear up yet.”

Luke looks from one of us to the other. Then, shaking his head, he walks over to a full laundry basket a few feet away, which he hauls up onto his hip. “Well. I'll be up in my place, if, uh, anyone needs me?”

“Fine,” we both say.

He stares at us for another second or so, then finally takes off.

I turn to Tina. “Okay. Care to tell me what that was all about?”

Tina crosses to a nearby bench and plops onto it, only to gri
mace. Wet butt, would be my guess. “You came along at a bad time, is all.”

“I gathered that much.” I sit beside her. “Are we supposed to hate each other now?”

“I don't know. Is that what we want?”

Slowly, I shake my head. “Not me. But I think you have more cause.”

Her laugh is dry. “It's me I'm mad at, nitwit.”

“Funny thing. It's my cheek that's stinging.”

Tina looks at me, her mouth all screwed up. “I'm really sorry about that. Does it hurt?”

“Like hell. But I'll get over it. As long as you tell me what's
really
going on in your head.”

Her inhaled breath expands her chest a full cup size. “Nobody got me into this mess but me, El. Yeah, I'm hurt you screwed Luke. And that you didn't tell me. But you're right— I've never exactly given anyone the impression I could handle the truth, have I? You wanna hear the kicker, though? I'd kinda figured somethin' had happened, because the two of you were acting really weird around each other for months. But as long as you guys didn't say anything, I could pretend I was just imagining it, right?”

I sink back against the bench. “Man. Maybe Luke could get us a group rate with that therapist.”

Tina laughs, then twists around. “All I know is, it was wrong, the way I let you guys prop me up the way you did. At least for such a long time. And maybe talking to somebody without a personal stake in the outcome would help me sort through some of this, you know?”

A small smile pulls at my lips. “I am sorry about you and Luke.”

“Yeah. I know. And when I leave here, I'm gonna go home and cry my eyes out. But him and me…” Her hair doesn't move when she shakes her head. A good sign—she must be
feeling more like her old self if she's gelling her hair again. “It's not right. And it never really was. We don't want the same things.”

“So what was all that about wanting him back?”

Another sigh. “Panic, I guess. It was scary as hell, being alone. I was just so used to having Luke around, y'know? Had nothing to do with us being right for each other. Or not.” She smirks. “I was just balking at getting on with my life.” Her eyes meet mine. “My own life. Without Luke.”

I look out over the grounds. “You lied about the affair, didn't you?”

After a moment, she nods. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

“Guess maybe that's something the shrink can help me figure out, huh?”

“Along with why you slapped me?”

Another laugh. “No, that one I can answer. Because I couldn't believe it took you so
fucking
long to admit how you felt about Luke. Because, you know, if you had, if you'd been up front from the beginning, maybe we could have avoided all of this crap.”

I stare out over the half-flattened impatiens. “Maybe. Maybe not.” I pause. “Starr's not his, by the way.”

“Shit. I'm sorry.”

She understands. That's nice. Whether or not it's enough to rebuild our friendship on a stronger, more legitimate foundation, though, I don't know. We'll just have to wait and see.

“Well.” Tina gets up, yanking at the seat of her soggy shorts. “I'd better get goin'. You—” She looks behind her, in the direction of Luke's apartment, then back at me. “You be totally honest with him, you hear me?”

“Teen, I don't know…I mean, Jesus, knowing how you still feel—”

“Dammit!”
She stamps her foot. “Quit worrying about
me!
Okay? I'm gonna be fine. In fact…”

“What?”

“Well, there's this guy at work, one of the managers?” Twin dots of color rise in her cheeks. “We've only been out for coffee a couple of times—” her eyes shoot to mine “—and God knows I'm not rushing into anything, not until I get my head on straight, but…” One shoulder hitches, accompanied by a half smile. “But he's really nice. And normal. And he's pushing me to go back to school, get my degree. And no, I'm not making it up, I swear.”