Just Yesterday (10 page)

She looks at me quizzically, then her lips curve in a small smile. “Have I sounded preoccupied?”

“Yes,” I say quietly.

“Oh, honey. I’m sorry.” Her voice caresses, soothes me. “I’ve been a wreck. I’ve wanted to talk to you about it, but I knew you’d be upset. I decided to wait until I saw you.”

I am trying hard to trust her. But I can’t underŹstand why she would accept an interview if she didn’t want the job. I ask her this, and her response comes slowly.

“Professional courtesy, I suppose. It’s a small industry and everyone knows each other. I’d hate to ruin a potential situation in the future by refusing to do a simple interview.”

It made sense, and yet I didn’t like it. “Is that why you changed your plans? Because you have an interview on Friday?”

“That” she rolls over on her side to face me, letting her fingers trace my hairline — “and because I wanted to spend more time with you.”

I am suddenly scared to death. “Are you going to move to New York?”

“No!” She is adamant as she wraps her arms around me and pulls me close. “No, honey. I’m not moving to New York.” She presses kisses across my cheek and over my forehead. “I’m going to San Diego, Liz. To be with you. We promised each other. Remember?”

Of course I remember, and I tell her so. She continues to shush me with kisses, coaxing first a smile from my lips and then arousal from my body. She makes love to me slowly, gently. As though she is listening to my body for the very first time.

We lie exhausted in each other’s arms just as our room service is delivered. Then we eat dinner leisurely and make love again and again until dawn.

This is my very first trip to New York City. I have never felt so out of place in my entire life. Grace, on the other hand, is in her element. The differences between us have never been so evident.

I am constantly lost and out of sorts, and have to rely on Grace to handle almost everything. She hails cabs, gets us seated at restaurants, knows exactly when to tip and how much to give. She absolutely thrives. I am very nearly miserable.

As the week progresses, I begin to feel less of a country bumpkin but am still less than comfortable in the city. As each day passes and Friday looms, my anxiety continues to grow. And while we don’t discuss it, it is always there between us.

We make plans for the weekend to drive up the coast to New England, and the week can’t pass quickly enough for me.

On Friday morning I’m a wreck when Grace leaves early, dressed to kill in the navy suit. I am thankful for the last-minute errands that I need to run. Thankful that I have something to keep me busy while I wait for her to return.

She is smiling when she opens the door, and she immediately begins the ritual of stripping off nylons and pulling on her jeans.

“Well?” I finally say, knowing that my fear is full on my face.

She pulls a T-shirt over her head and tucks it into her jeans. “It sucked.” She is grinning.

“Really?” I can’t help my relief from showing.

“They were a bunch of pretentious assholes.” She covers the distance between us and crushes me to her breast. Her lips smack against mine loudly. “You can relax now,” she chuckles.

“You’re not moving to New York?”

“No.” She releases me long enough to pull on a pair of socks and sneakers, “I’m California bound, Missy.” Then she pulls me down on the bed and holds me close, gently. Her sigh is heavy. “I’m nervous about moving,” she admits.

“You’ll be fine. It takes a while to adjust. But you’ll be just fine.”

“But what about us?”

I lift my head and see the uncertainty in her eyes. “We’ll be just fine, too,” I tell her.

“What if we screw it up again?”

I’m surprised to hear her talking like this. “We won’t let that happen, honey.”

“Promise?” she asks, her voice childlike and vulnerable.

“Promise,” I assure her.

She considers this, her eyes raking my face before she blinks hard. “Okay,” she says simply, stretching. “But do we have to leave tonight? I just want to curl up here with you and plan our future. We can leave in the morning, can’t we?”

I smile, heart glowing. “We can stay as long as you like,” I say, then feel her breath on my cheek as she curls her body against me.

At first, when she stops calling, I try my best to give her every benefit of the doubt. After all, she’s going through so much right now. She’s leaving one job and moving halfway across the country to a strange new place. She is leaving her home of over thirty years and starting a fresh new life.

When she stops returning my phone calls and is vague and evasive when I do catch her, my mind begins to spiral. Deja vu strikes me hard, and I battle to remember that the past is the past. Grace would never treat me the way she did all those years ago. We’ve both learned too much from our mistakes in the past. We would never let it happen again. Never.

When she snaps at me, tells me that she’s busy and preoccupied, I don’t dare venture the questions that I want to ask. She has become a different person. Moody. Unreachable. And while I want nothing more than to be a patient and understanding lover, my inner strength and resolve is crumbling.

Then finally, the truth. But only after I catch her off guard at the studio.

“New York came through with an offer.” Her words are cold. Matter-of-fact. My stomach falls below my knees and my head begins to swim. “It’s an incredible opportunity. It’s the evening news. It’s the best market in the entire country and a real springŹboard to the national news. You know that’s what I want, honey.” She pauses, but I cannot speak. “I’d be a fool not to take this job.”

There it is. The words I’d dreaded but have someŹhow come to expect. The silence on the line between us is excruciating. Still I can’t speak.

“Liz? Are you there?” Her voice is impatient.

“Yes,” I manage.

Again the strained silence.

“I can’t talk right now. I’m on in five minutes.” She sounds exasperated.

“What?” Anger mixes with pain. “That’s it? That’s all I get?”

“That’s all I know.”

“Well, what about us?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice quiets a bit.

“You decide to move to New York and you don’t even discuss it with me? Isn’t this a decision we should make together?” I’m incredulous. In a state of shock, really. I can’t believe this is happening.

There is silence on her end of the line.

“Jesus, Grace. Why haven’t you been talking to me about this?”

“I can’t talk about it,” she says simply, as if it is a perfectly reasonable explanation. “Do you think this is easy for me?”

I don’t know. I honestly have no idea what she’s thinking or feeling or going through, and I tell her so.

Again, silence from the other end of the line. “So when are you moving to New York?” I ask the question sarcastically, not expecting an answer. “Next week.”

This time the tightening in my throat is overwhelming. Fuck you, Grace. I want to say the words. I want to hurt her. I want to take back the power that I’ve somehow lost. But I don’t. I say nothing.

“So it’s over. Just like that.” My voice is tight, a mixture of sarcasm and unshed tears. “If you say so,” she quips.

Finally, anger washes over me, temporarily overŹshadowing the pain. “No, Grace. Let’s be very clear about it this time. Just so you don’t come back ten years from now and try to convince me that it was me who dumped you. This is your choice. Your decision. Not mine.”

She laughs without humor. “Touche, my dear.” She covers the mouthpiece of the phone, and I hear her tell someone that she’s on her way. “I need to go, Liz. They’re ready for me on the set.”

“Fine.”

There is a slight pause while I wait for her to say good-bye.

“I love you, Liz.” Her voice is a whisper. “Sure.” My laugh is obnoxious. “Break a leg, Grace.”

“I’ll talk to you later. Bye.” The dial tone echoes in my ear.

“Go ahead and say it.” I am lying on my makeŹshift bed, sprawled on my back, arms thrown up to cover my face.

“Say what?” Joanna’s voice is soothing.

“I told you so,” I say bitterly. I sneak a peek at her face and catch her gentle smile.

“Well, believe me. There’s a big part of me that wants to say it. But it wouldn’t feel very good.” She reaches out and strokes my hair, and for an instant I’m reminded of my mother. It’s such a maternal gesture. “It’s too obvious how much you’re hurting.”

Part of me wishes she wasn’t being so nice. Instead of soothing me, it only served to make me feel more vulnerable.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

I shake my head. “It doesn’t feel right. Talking to you about Grace, I mean.”

She considers me closely. “It’s okay, Liz. You need to talk to someone. What’s going on? Why isn’t she moving here?”

I close my eyes briefly, still not believing it. “She got a better offer from a station in New York.”

“New York?” Joanna is incredulous.

My reply is a grimace.

“She’s moving to New York?” Her voice has lifted a full octave higher than usual.

Again I grimace. “She’s already there.” I close my eyes again. “I think.”

“You think’?” Her features register shock.

Finally, I meet her eyes and realize that I’m emŹbarrassed. “I haven’t talked to her in three weeks.”

A low groan starts deep in Joanna’s throat, and her face grows a bit pale. “Christ, Liz. Did you fight? How did this happen?”

“No, we didn’t fight. It was unexpected. At least to me.” My embarrassment grows. “That’s not true. Part of me expected it.”

Joanna stares at me, dumbfounded. “Liz. This doesn’t make any sense. Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t know. She was all set to move here, and then she got an offer from New York. It’s a bigger market and she’d be doing the evening news.”

“What would she be doing in San Diego?”

“Morning news. Weekends.” I run my hand through my hair. “The same thing she was doing in Champaign.”

“So New York is a big step up.” Joanna’s voice is normal now.

I nod. “She said she’d be a fool not to take it.” For a moment I remember the first time I’d seen her doing the news. The red suit. Pearl earrings. The dazzling smile and the husky voice. My heart hurts at the memory. “And she’s right.”

Joanna is frowning. “Did she talk to you about it before she accepted the job?”

I wince and shake my head, feeling duped. Or at least a fool.

The skin tightens around her lips. “Did you at least talk about what you’re going to do? What your plans are?”

Again I shake my head.

“Jesus, Liz. You talked all the time.”

I cringe. “I know. I don’t have any answers.”

“Did she at least ask you to move out there?”

“No.” I remember our trip to New York and smile wryly. “It was pretty obvious that I don’t fit in there. You know I’m not exactly a big-cityj girl.”

Joanna considers these words and smiles softly. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing, sweetie.” She ruffles my head. “That’s part of your charm.”

“Huh,” I grimace.

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. I keep going over it and over it. But no matter what I do, I can’t reconcile it. It doesn’t make sense.”

“I hate to say it, Liz. But I don’t think this is about you.”

“Maybe it’s not about me, but it sure as hell affects me.”

“You need to see her. Talk to her.”

Guffaw. “Honey” — sarcasm drips — “I don’t even have a phone number or an address.”

Joanna’s eyes narrow. “Your girlfriend is really beginning to piss me off.”

I laugh in spite of myself. “I don’t think she’s my girlfriend anymore,” I say, and am totally unprepared for the truth of those words. My throat tightens and tears spill instantly.

“Fuck.”

“Oh, Liz.” She hugs me briefly. “I just can’t believe this.”

“Sure you can,” I sniff. “You expected it.”

“No. Not really. Not like this.” She snaps her fingers for emphasis. “I can’t believe she would dump you for a job.”

I cringe from the honesty of her words. “I guess that speaks pretty loudly, doesn’t it? Says a lot about how she really feels about me.” My mind drifts as I voice my thoughts out loud. “She was so convincing. I believed her.” My eyes focus back on Joanna. “I really did.” I shake my head and begin the internal reprimand that had begun the moment Grace had said she was going to New York. “What a fool I was.”

Joanna is frowning again. “I’m sure she loves you, Liz.”

The words hurt. “I thought so. I really did.”

I am very close to crawling the walls.

For some reason, I keep believing that she will call. Each day when I awake she is my first conscious thought. Even when I try to push her image away and recapture sleep, I cannot. She haunts me. I roll out of bed, pull on my sneakers, and run blindly. Until exhaustion overtakes me and I have to stop.

I pour myself into my work, but find that it can’t possibly fill the hours of the day. I paint the house. Build a new shed to replace the one that is falling apart. Plant so many trees, bushes, and flowers that there is no place left to put them. Anything to keep busy. To keep active physically. But it is not enough.

I push myself each day and don’t stumble to bed until I know I can sleep. She is my last waking thought, and in my mind she answers all the quesŹtions that I have no answers for.

I stopped sending e-mail some time ago, as she hasn’t replied in weeks. And I’ve given up trying to find a listing for her in the phone directory or online.

She has purposely, forcefully, removed herself from my life. Without warning. Without discussion. She could be anywhere. She could be doing anything. And I’d never know it. Our lives are severed. Completely. Totally.

I am furious. Furious that she lied. Furious that I allowed myself to be taken in. Furious that I ever believed for a single minute that she loved me.

I am dismayed. Bewildered. Why did she bother? What was her motive? It makes no sense at all.

I am betrayed. I’d had no reason to trust her to begin with. I’d believed her because I’d wanted to. Not because she’d ever earned it, or deserved it.