To See You Again (17 page)

"Raven?" Collin says again.

Realizing I haven't responded, I answer, "I'm
here."

 
"When
you saw that I was different, you know,
changed
. Why did you laugh? Are
you, um, disappointed?" His voice is rough and raw and I can feel his
vulnerability even though we are no longer touching.

"I'm sorry, Collin. God, I am so sorry. No. No, I'm
definitely not disappointed in you. Far from it. You amaze me…It was all just
such a shock. Seeing you
at all
was a shock." I clench my hands into
tight fists. It's all I can do not to touch him again.

He doesn't really respond and I contemplate his
question further. In truth, there was a part of me that felt a bizarre hurt to
see him doing so well. I feel so guilty for having had those thoughts about
someone who I'd cared so very deeply for; but it was this very perception of
him as totally unmotivated, that I'd used to justify rejecting him so many
years ago. At the time I was so sure he was unwilling to ever do more with his
life. I'd pictured him squandering all his gifts and continuing to give the
world the middle finger whenever he could. Seeing him successful, happy, and so
‘together' makes me realize just how messed up
I
feel. Now I'm the one
with the mask. I have a front I put on for the rest of the world, always
pretending that I've got it together, that I know what I want, or even who I
am; meanwhile, that couldn't be further from the truth.

I huff out a little sigh, searching for the most
honest response I can muster for now. "If anyone here is a disappointment, it's
me. I don't know what the hell I'm doing, Collin. I work a million hours and to
what end? What's the point of it all?" I haven't had anything to drink for
hours, but I think that has little to do with the gigantic lump in my throat.

"You're not a disappointment—" he starts to say
something more and then the seemingly blazing lights come back on with no
preamble whatsoever, as though someone had just forgotten to flip the switch
all this time.

"Ugh!" We both groan, covering our eyes and
stumbling to a stand. Before either of us can speak the elevator shakes and
then begins its descent, on autopilot, to the first floor.

Neither of us looks at the other and just before
we arrive Collin murmurs, "I guess this is it."

The doors open, and adjacent to a large crowd of
workmen, and the fire department, are Beckett and Leighton. Two men from the
fire department question us about how we are feeling and give us large bottles
of water, which we both drink gratefully. After a brief once-over we both
decline any additional medical attention and are excused to our significant
others.

"Baby!" Beckett exclaims, pulling me into his
arms. I'm vaguely aware of Leighton and Collin embracing next to me and I try
in vain to think:
Beckett, Beckett, Beckett.
Leighton moves to stand
next to me.

"You've got quite the catch in this one." She
points over at Beckett. "He has been running the show over here." I glance up
at Beckett who is inhaling the praise like it's oxygen and beaming brightly.

"Oh yeah?" I say, turning to face Collin and Leighton.
Beckett keeps one arm wrapped around me, his hand firm on my hip. Leighton has
a vice grip on Collin's arm.

"Yes!" she exclaims. "As soon as the power outage happened
he came over here to check on you."

"Well, it wasn't
right
away, but when I
didn't hear back from you after several texts, I got worried." He shrugs one
shoulder. "When I got here your receptionist told me that you were stuck in the
elevator with some guy who brought you lunch. I remembered you said you were
having lunch with Collin, so I figured it was him."

Leighton jumps in, finishing up the story like
this is some sort of one-act play the two of them have put together.
"Amazingly, Beckett remembered that I work at the 5/3
^rd
Bank just a
few blocks from here. She leans over, grabbing my arm. Then she raises her
eyebrows as she says to me, her voice lowered, "Hang onto this one. He's a good
listener." She releases me and then continues, smiling brightly. "We were all
standing around outside with security, because they locked up the bank as soon
as they lost power. Beckett flagged me down and we walked back over here
together. In no time at all Beckett was on top of it." I wonder to myself what
exactly Beckett could've been on
top of
. Last time I checked he wasn't
an electrician.

I tug on Beckett's arm and he looks down at me.
"Is Marissa still here?" I ask, quietly enough for just Beck to hear me. "I
should thank her."
And apologize!

"Oh, no, baby. Pretty much everyone from the building
is gone. They made people clear out when they realized it was gonna take so
long. She was one of the first ones outta here. I was lucky to have caught her
at all. The only reason
we
were allowed to stay is because our loved
ones were trapped in the elevator." I nod.

Loved ones.

"So guys," Beckett turns to address everyone. "They
have a generator up and running here, that's how they were able to free you two
and get some limited electricity going, but power is still out in and around
the surrounding area. I heard it's impacting the south and west loops." He
turns and looks directly at me. "Including our neighborhoods." He shifts his gaze
to Leighton. "So, I was gonna to make arrangements for us to stay in a hotel
tonight—"

"But," Leighton interjects.
This whole
finishing each other's sentences routine needs to come to an end. Like, now.
"I
told Beckett, no way. Collin has plenty of room at his place, so you all are
going to come over for dinner tonight and stay with us in Bucktown." The
exchange that happens between Collin and me is lightning fast, but in that
brief flicker in time I know we are both thinking the same thing:
oh, shit.

"Well, we don't want to impose, do we Beckett? A
hotel will be fine." I'm willing him to read my thoughts:
say no, say no,
say no.

Leighton shoves Collin and he blinks. Then almost
robotically he says, "We'd be glad to have you."

I look over at Beckett and he's beaming like an
idiot. No help there. "Um, I need to get my stuff from my office, at least my
phone and purse anyway."

Beckett points to a nearby bench where my coat,
purse and messenger bag are neatly laid out. I raise my eyebrows and he shrugs.
"I had some time to kill while we were waiting for your rescue."

"How did you? I mean the stairwell had to be pitch
black?"

He winks. "Shhh…don't tell. I swiped a flashlight
from work." Only Beckett would sneak up the stairwell when no one was looking
during a blackout. I feel myself soften a little toward him. I know any
negative feelings I'm having now are a direct result of my own guilt.

"Thanks, Beck." He leans down and kisses my cheek.

"I'm just glad you're here in one piece. What
happened there?" Beckett points to my torn stockings at the knee where a small
circle of pink irritated skin is exposed.

I exhale and say, "Finding the emergency phone in
a pitch black elevator is tougher than one might assume."

"Oh, baby. What an ordeal! I'm so sorry." He ushers
me over to my belongings and helps me with my coat. Collin and Leighton are now
engaged in what appears to be a heated exchange. Collin isn't giving much away,
but Leighton's fists are at her hip and her toddler-like pout are a dead giveaway.
I subtly gesture toward them and whisper to Beckett, "Are you sure this is a
good idea? I really don't want to put them out."

Beckett shrugs. "I don't think Leighton is going
to take no for answer. She seems to be a get-what-she-wants sorta girl."

"Yeah, I'm gathering that," I say, pulling my cell
phone from my purse. Eleven missed calls and twenty text messages. I open one
from Vanessa asking if the power is out in my building and whether or not I'm OK.
I answer her text in my head. Yes, to the first question, and no way in hell,
to the second.

One of the most infuriating things about Leighton
is sometimes she knows exactly what I'm thinking or feeling, but she almost
never gives a crap. She knows damn well I don't want Rachel and what's-his-face
at
my
house for a freaking group sleepover. I swear to God, any chance
this girl gets to play house, she seizes. She won though, because here we are—on
our way to Awkwardville. Traffic is a nightmare, so we're walking. The long
walk is not such a bad thing for me. I need to cool the fuck down or I don't
stand a chance at making it through dinner. I was worried about Raven's feet,
though. She shrugged it off. She has a pair of flats in her bag that she slips
on. She says she can make it.

I've tried to read her face, but I can't tell what
she's thinking apart from not being thrilled about this idea either. Leighton
bounces along beside me. She, on the other hand, is completely delighted. She
assumes she's helping me rekindle a friendship and to use her words, "increase
my social circle"; she has no idea what this may have reignited. If she had any
clue, she'd lose that spring in her step pretty quick.

"Are you sure you have power, Collin?" Raven asks,
closing the gap between us. Her face screwed up with worry.

Leighton turns to face Raven before I can answer.
"I don't at my place, but I called Collin's neighbor, and he said they're fine
there. I'm not sure if you're hungry. There are some decent take-out places
near us, or Collin could make something if he‘s feeling up to it." She squeezes
my bicep and looks up at me.

I force a smile and shrug. "Sure, I guess."

"Thanks
for all your hospitality, Collin. Dinner was fantastic," Beckett says.

We're
lounging in Collin's living room. Beck and I are seated together on a long,
black leather couch with Collin and Leighton cozy on the sofa across from us. I
nod in agreement, and return to nervously picking at an imaginary stain on my
jeans. Right now I'll do just about anything to avoid eye contact with Collin
or Leighton. I always keep a change of clothes at the office so that I can slip
into something more comfortable when I'm there really late. Beck knows this and
grabbed the bag of wrinkly—and slightly smelly—clothes stashed in the bottom
drawer of my desk. Needless to say, I'm feeling juuust fabulous in my
out-of-date loungewear.

Beck
swirls his wine in his glass. "Rachel doesn't enjoy cooking, so that's become
my department. I have to say, though, I'm impressed with your impromptu
culinary skills. I doubt I could've pulled off such a feat with no notice
whatsoever."

Collin
nods in acknowledgement, smiles cordially, but doesn't really reply. I think I
can count on one hand the number of words he's said since we arrived at his
utilitarian, uber-clean townhome. I don't know what I pictured in my head when
I've thought of Collin living somewhere, but this wasn't it. Everything is so
pristine; it hardly looks like anyone lives here. For all the years I knew him,
though, I can't really recall him ever having a place that was completely his
own. He told me his mother had his room redone a millisecond after he left for
college, and he always lived in some cramped dump at school. I'm curious about
his home and his life here, but I can't imagine us talking about it now. His
silence was less obvious when he was making dinner, or even while we were
eating, but now it's verging on awkward. He's hating that we're here. Leighton
seems even more troubled by Collin's reticence than me. She swings her legs off
of his and slaps his thigh.

"Why don't
you two boys chat? I'll take Rachel to find something to wear tomorrow." She
extends a hand to me and rhythmically bounces it in the air waiting for me to
embrace it.

"Oh," I
choke out. My voice is scratchy and choppy as though I haven't spoken in days.
"You don't have to do that, Leighton." I wave her away, but she continues to
stare me down.

"Nonsense!
What's the alternative? I'm sure you don't want to trudge back to your place at
the crack of dawn tomorrow. C'mon it'll be fun!" She bounds over to me grabbing
my hand and yanking me off the couch. I shoot Beckett a pleading look and he
just returns it with an expression of complete amusement.

She's
still clutching my hand when we reach the stairs and I begin to untangle it
from hers. "That's quite a grip you've got there, Leighton."

"Oh!
Sorry, Rachel. I didn't even realize. I didn't bruise you did I?"

"No. I'm
just teasing," I reply, examining my hand as I trail behind her.

Just
before we reach the top of the stairs it occurs to me I'm about to go into
Collin's bedroom…with his girlfriend. I guess this shouldn't be weird, but it
sure feels that way. We reach the landing and she points down the hallway.
"Collin and I aren't living together yet, but I stay here often enough that I
have a stash of clothing in his spare bedroom closet." She turns to me and
shrugs. "It's not like he was using it." I nod my head and give her a smile. At
least this isn't his bedroom.
Deep breaths.
Leighton is sifting through
the clothes that nearly fill the oversized closet, and I can't help but wonder
what the heck could be left back at her place.

"Perfect!"
She declares. "I know I'm a lot shorter than you, but I think this skirt will
work." She thrusts a black skirt with a wavy hemline in my direction. "It
should match the pumps you had on earlier, too." She turns back toward the
closet and begins pushing clothing off from one side to the other, one by one.
"Now, we just need to find a cute blouse." She sorts through a few more and
then selects a solid teal one with three-quarter-length sleeves. "Yes! This
will look fantastic on you. Oh, and you know what else? I have a scarf in the
dresser that will go great with it." She shuts the closet door and crosses the
room to a tall, dark wood dresser. "Shhh! Don't tell Collin! He'd pitch a fit
if he knew how much stuff I've snuck in here." She giggles, while I try to picture
Collin ‘pitching a fit'.

I glance
around the room and notice a series of canvases leaning against the wall, along
with an easel and supply box. Is this his art room? Other than the dresser
there isn't much in here, but there's a window that probably offers great
natural light during the day. What a perfect place for him to paint. I wonder
why it isn't set up. Leighton notices me staring and says, "Oh, I know all that
stuff just looks awful in here. I keep trying to convince him to put it in the
basement storage closet instead of leaving it in this room to collect dust." I
place my hand to my lips and try to suppress the sudden wave of anger I feel.
She should be encouraging him to paint anywhere he wants. This is his place,
not hers! She hands me the shirt and I do my best to quickly compose myself.

"I'm
sure this will be just perfect," I say, carefully folding the bundle. "Thank
you, Leighton. I'll get all of this washed up and returned to you just as soon
as possible."

"Oh, no
worries. Now that you and Collin have reconnected, I'm hoping we will be seeing
a lot more of you guys." She grins and nods as she says this, and I can tell
she means it kindly and honestly.

I nod in
return, but don't speak. I feel like anything I could say would just be a lie
at this point. Her face is so earnest that I feel ill again about the elevator
and all the touching. God, what the hell were we thinking?

Turning
away from me and back to her endless clothing supply she says, "Let's see,
you'll need some PJs for tonight, too, right?"

"Oh, Leighton,
that isn't necessary. You've done enough," I protest. My objections are as
useless as they are ignored, because Leighton is already riffling through
nightgowns and other bedtime attire. Something black with ruffles and sequins
catches my eye and I feel weak in the knees. Suddenly, unwanted visions of
Leighton and Collin's intimacy floods my mind. I picture him touching her in
the satin lingerie and I'm suddenly filled with so much negative emotion that I
feel faint. This is far more than just feeling awkward. There's a strong, heady
mix of guilt and something else, something completely unwanted and alien inside
me. The effects of which are enough to make me wonder if I really might become
physically ill. I feel like an intruder not just in Leighton's gigantic closet,
but here, in Collin's home, in his life.

"It's no
big deal." She opens a second dresser drawer and then hands me a billowy tank
top with matching shorts. "It might be a little skimpy, but I'm sure Beck won't
mind." She nudges me gently and winks. I have the presence of mind to laugh
charitably forcing a temporary hiatus on my panic cycle. "You know, it's
getting late. I think I might just get changed now, since I'm up here anyway." Then,
with practically no warning at all, Leighton just starts getting undressed
right in front of me. I whirl around to face the wall.
What the hell?

"I think
my cousin works in your building," she says casually, as though she isn't
currently half-naked.

"Oh,
really?"

"Yeah,
she's a receptionist. I think she's been there about eight or nine months now."
She opens a wicker basket and out of the corner of my eye I see her toss a bra
into it. Great.

"Do you
know which company? There are at least a dozen other businesses there." I pull
my shirt over my head, having decided that it's definitely weirder for me to
just stand here while she undresses and not get changed myself.

"I don't
think she ever told me. I haven't seen her since she moved here and took the
job. We're having lunch in a couple of days. I'll ask her." I manage to murmur
some indistinct reply as I try to squash the riot in my head. The lingerie, the
artwork forced into a small corner, my boyfriend downstairs, a bra-less
Leighton—if all of this isn't a recipe for a breakdown, I don't know what is.

I hear
her saying something else, but my brain refuses to translate. I'm transfixed as
I stare down at the nightclothes I'm now wearing. She wasn't kidding. These are
skimpy.
Oh, boy
. I scoop up my clothes from the floor and hold them to
my chest in an attempt to maintain some decency.  

Leighton
appraises me with a polite, if not maybe disinterested smile, as though having
a stranger standing in front of you, scantily clad in
your
pajamas is an
everyday occurrence for her.

"I'll take
you down to the basement guest room where you guys will be staying tonight.
There's a bathroom down there, which I stocked up with lots of travel stuff. If
you need something and you can't find it just let me know." She's so perky that
it almost seems to compensate for my current stunned demeanor. It occurs to me
that maybe this is what makes she and Collin work—they're very yin and yang. 

I try to
pull it together. "Wow, thank you, Leighton. You're so, um…prepared." A million
other less flattering adjectives just came to mind, but we'll go with prepared.

"Thanks!"
She beams at me. "I get it from my mother. She loved to entertain. I do, too.
I'm just trying to get Collin out of his shell. Was he this reserved in college?"
She asks, suddenly sounding serious.

"Um…He
wasn't exactly Mr. Social, no." I stop short of saying anything more. It's
clear Collin hasn't let on about our friendship or any history together with
her, so I need to tread lightly. Leighton stands frozen for just a moment as
though seized with a paralyzing thought, and then continues heading down the
stairs without saying more. I get the feeling that she would love to drill me
about Collin's college days, but has either thought better or it, or has been asked
not to. Either way— thank God!

"C'mon, let's
get Beckett so I can show him downstairs, too." She gestures beyond what must
be the basement door and toward the room where we were all previously seated.

When we round
the corner to the living room I can hear Beck talking loudly to Collin about
the Chicago Cubs. Collin takes a long drink of his water and I watch him as I
stand in the doorway. A few seconds pass and then he notices me. His eyes
travel down the length of my body to my bare legs and he begins coughing.

"You
okay, dude?" Beckett asks, and then he follows Collin's gaze to me.

"What do
you have on?" Beck asks sounding awed.

Leighton
quickly shifts to stand in front of me, and I can see a blush spreading across
the back of her neck. "Ease down gentlemen. It belongs to me, and I insisted
Rachel have something comfortable to wear to bed. They're just PJs."

"I'm
sorry. Leighton is so petite that this just looks stupid on me," I mumble,
feeling humiliated. I can't bring myself to look at Collin any longer.

"Um,
stupid is not the adjective I would've chosen, Rach." Beck raises his eyebrows
at me with a silly grin that I instantly want to wipe from his face. I cling
tighter to my crumpled pile of clothes. This feels like one of those dreams
where you show up to work naked and there's nothing you can do about it. Only
this is real. And worse.

"You
know, I think I'd better turn in for the night. I have to get up early and make
up for all the lost time at the office today." Beckett stands and walks over to
me, putting his arms around me protectively. I feel guilty for not wanting his
touch right now and I fight the urge to wriggle free from him.

Collin joins
us, clearly having regained his composure. "I'll take you downstairs and show
you the guest room."

"Thanks,
Collin and Leighton, for all of your generosity," Beckett says, as he squeezes
my elbow, prompting me.

"Yes,
thank you, both," I echo, refusing eye contact with either of them.

Collin
nods his head and then moves past Leighton and us to the basement stairs. We
all follow silently. I really didn't think things could get weirder or more
awkward, but my brief fashion show of inappropriate nightwear, sure seems to
have taken it all to the next level.
God, just shoot me.
Collin thumps
down the stairs quickly and turns on a dim table lamp just outside of what must
be the guest bedroom.

"The
room is right here." He gestures toward a doorway that's barely illuminated in
the low lighting. "There's an adjoining bathroom as well. Let us know if you need
anything." He's all business and I can just imagine how much he's wishing we,
or more specifically me, weren't here.

"I'm
sure we'll be fine. Thank you." Beckett nods at Collin. He hasn't picked up on
much of the negative energy tonight, but now he appears to have finally tuned
in. Welcome to the party, Beck. He's nervously running his hands along my arms
from my shoulders to my bent elbows, over and over again.
I suppose he thinks he's being comforting, but the only thing that would bring
me comfort right now is the ability to evaporate.

"You
could turn on another light for them, Collin. Geez, you can barely see down
here!" Leighton seethes. She can tell something has gone wrong and appears to
be instinctively blaming notorious party-pooper Collin. Oh God, if she only
knew.