A Woman Lost Page 16

  As we had hurried out of the condo after unpacking the car, I hadn’t even noticed the ice on the steps. My feet flew out from beneath me and my body flipped into the air. Hanging in midair for a second, I grabbed the handrail with my right arm, which caused me to come crashing down on my left side, or, to be more exact, my left elbow. Pain stabbed through my arm as soon as I hit the ground, but extremely embarrassed, and knowing several people were around, I had instantly popped up off the ground and brushed myself off. After reassuring Sarah I was fine, we had gone to lunch.

  We spent the afternoon shopping, and I hadn’t even let on to Sarah that I was in pain. In one store, I secretly bought some Advil and took it when she wasn’t looking.

  Later that evening, when I was changing for dinner, Sarah had seen it.

  “Lizzie!” she had exclaimed, hurrying over to look at my arm. A bruise was already forming, and it was quite swollen.

  Instead of going to dinner, we went to Urgent Care. I refused to go to the emergency room. For some reason, Urgent Care was less damaging to my wounded ego. Only pussies went to the ER.

  After several hours and some X-rays, the doctor determined I had a hairline fracture. Not even a real break‌—‌a wimpy hairline fracture. Just like my wimpy illness.

  Fortunately, they didn’t cast for such injuries; instead, I had a lightweight brace that slipped on my arm under my clothes, and I was ordered to rest my arm and ice it. The good news was that I didn’t have to get up on skis. Another winter and I still hadn’t skied‌—‌that was quite a feat for a Coloradoan. I’m still not sure why I was so proud about that.

  * * *

  “What’s wrong with your arm?”

  “Nothing. Why?”

  Ethan stirred his coffee. “You’re holding it funny. Usually, you have your arms on the table, and you gesticulate when you talk. But today, you have it in your lap, and you keep rubbing it with your other hand.”

  “Hmmm … that is odd. I didn’t know that I was doing that.” I left my arm in my lap but held onto my cup with my good arm. “So how was your Christmas?”

  “Oh, the usual. The parents kept hinting they’re ready for grandkids. Kept making comments like, ‘Wouldn’t today be great if there was a little one to spoil.’ Between them and my wife, I was going crazy.”

  “How’s the adoption process going?”

  “To tell the truth, I’m staying out of it. She’s taking care of it. She likes to keep me informed, but I tune her out.”

  I chuckled. “We are two peas in the same pod.”

  Ethan nodded. “So seriously, what’s wrong with your arm? Are you wearing a brace under your shirt?” He reached over, but I swatted his hand away.

  I looked down at my arm, but I still didn’t move it. Sarah had promised me she couldn’t see the brace. I would have to wear an extremely thick sweater so people couldn’t see it. I told Ethan the whole story.

  “You are the only person I know who goes to the ER so much.”

  “It was Urgent Care.”

  “Oh, sorry, Urgent Care. And who breaks their elbow? Forget about living in a cold climate. You need to live in a desert. Do you remember when you broke your knee? Hobbled to your classes on crutches for weeks, looking pathetic. They even had a service that would have escorted you to all of your classes on a golf cart, but no, not Lizzie; you had to act tough. You’ve broken two bones that are almost impossible to break. How in the world did you break your elbow?”

  “It’s a talent of mine. Falling is easy. Landing‌—‌now that is the key part.”

  “Maybe you should take ballet classes, football players do it to learn how to fall, so they don’t get injured.”

  “Are you serious? Or do you just want to see me in traction?”

  “Actually, I would love to see you in a tutu.” Ethan giggled.

  I grimaced at the thought.

  “Why didn’t you just tell me, instead of trying to hide it?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I had hoped people wouldn’t notice it. It was embarrassing enough. I don’t want to relive it each time someone sees me.”

  “Maybe you shouldn’t wear the brace.”

  “I’ve tried. Sarah forces me to.”

  “Forces you to! For such an independent person, I find it funny you’re scared of her.”

  “I wouldn’t say I’m scared of her. I just don’t want to listen to her jibber jabber about it. It’s easier to wear the brace.”

  “She’s not here now. Why don’t you take it off?” His smiled was designed to coax me.

  “I tried that, but she found out.” I rubbed my elbow. The chill in the store made it ache.

  “How in the hell did she find out?”

  “I forgot to put it back on. And I had to hear about it the rest of the night.”

  “What’s with our women? They always find out what’s going on.” He laughed. “So does it hurt?”

  “Not too bad. It’s a small fracture. Mostly it just aches. But if I bump it on something, that’s when it feels broken.”

  “How long do you have to stay off the bike?” He stuck his stir stick in his mouth.

  “A few weeks. The doctor said it would heal pretty quickly.” Fortunately, I was ahead of schedule. I only needed 300 more miles to finish my challenge.

  “How about your ego?”

  “Luckily, only Sarah and you know about it. And you two already know I’m a fucking moron.”

  “True.”

  We both raised our drinks. “Cheers.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  The good news about New Year’s Eve at Peter’s was that our parents had other obligations. My father always spent New Year’s Eve with all of the top brass of his company. That year, the president was hosting one of those Murder Mystery Who Done It parties. All of the participants had to dress up as if they were in the roaring twenties. I would love to see my mother dressed as a flapper. Peter said Dad had to dress as a baseball player. Oh, to be a fly on that wall. I wondered if they gave Dad that role because he didn’t talk. He would just have to carry a bat around and look stupid: not much of a stretch for him.

  The bad news was that we were spending New Year’s Eve at Peter’s house with his friends. But Maddie’s parents were coming as well and I was curious to see Peter around his future in-laws.

  The afternoon started off okay. Maddie and Peter were frantically getting everything ready, so Sarah and I offered to help.

  “Take it easy,” Sarah whispered in my ear.

  Peter had other ideas in mind. Before I knew it, I was helping him transport tables and chairs from the basement.

  Sarah looked horrified, but said nothing. She and Maddie disappeared into the kitchen. Several minutes later, they returned and Maddie started helping with the lifting. I was hustled into the kitchen where Sarah placed a frozen bag of peas on my elbow. No words were spoken. I helped Sarah prepare some appetizers with my good arm.

  When Sarah and I went to our room to shower and dress for dinner, Hank was curled up on the bed. I spread out next to him.

  “Don’t be mad, but Maddie knows about your arm.” Sarah joined us.

  “I figured.”

  “She promised not to say anything.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think she will tell him.” She was good at keeping things from him. “To be honest, I don’t care who knows, except Peter and my mother.” I paused. Here I was, late in my twenties and I still felt the need to hide any weakness from my childhood tormentors. “I’m tired of them not being nice to me.”

  Sarah rolled over onto her side to face me. I was still on my back, unable to roll over and prop on my elbow.

  “You know, that’s the first time you ever said anything about the way they treat you.”

  “I don’t like to think about it much. I thought about it too much in my younger days.”

  “What were they like?” She brushed some wisps of hair out of my eyes, letting her fingers linger on my cheek.

  “Pretty much how they are now. Th
e only difference is that I used to get really upset all of the time. What you saw last week was a cakewalk to the way it used to be. I would either get so angry that I’d rant and rave, or I would storm out and cry. I learned to turn my emotions off.”

  She stared at me. Hank rolled onto his back and stretched, and I smiled. “You’re really lucky, Sarah.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You love your mom. I don’t even like mine. I’m envious of how you guys get along. I try not to interfere too much with you two.”

  “What do you mean by that? I thought you didn’t want to spend time with us.”

  “Why would you think that? What you have with your mom is special. I didn’t want to intrude.”

  “You wouldn’t be an intrusion. In fact, I know Mom would love to have you hang out more. She always wanted more daughters.”

  I thought about it. How was it possible that Rose wanted more daughters when my mom hadn’t wanted me at all? Maybe Mom just would have liked a different daughter?

  “How did she take it when you told her you were gay?” I asked.

  “My mom? I didn’t tell her. She told me.”

  “What?”

  “She sat me down one day and said it was okay to be gay. She knew I was, and I guess I wasn’t dealing with it well. I would date guys, but I hated it. Is that why your mom doesn’t like you?”

  “I don’t think that’s the only reason. It’s a big part, but I think mostly my mother thinks I’m weak. I never had a hard exterior as a child. I cared about animals, the environment, people … you name it. And I didn’t go into business. I studied history. For her, liberal arts mean I’m extreme liberal. In her mind, I am an intense flower child, which makes me weak and an embarrassment.”

  * * *

  Maddie’s parents arrived early for dinner, before the other guests arrived. Peter seemed somewhat anxious, puffing his chest out more than normal until he resembled a small bird roosting to stay warm on a chilly winter day. I thought I even saw a trickle of sweat on his brow.

  The six of us sat in the living room, and during a lull in the conversation, I studied Maddie’s parents. They did not surprise me at all. From the beginning, I could tell they were kind, loving people.

  “So, Peter, how are the Broncos doing this season?” asked her father.

  “Uh … ” my brother looked flushed. Our family did not follow any sports, and neither of us played team sports. Peter had played tennis, but quit when he determined he wasn’t the best player. Lately, he had started to play golf, but only in an attempt to further his career, not because he loved the sport.

  “Well, Tom, from all of the grumbling I hear around the watercooler I’d say they aren’t doing all that well,” Peter responded. “But you know the Broncos.” He chuckled meekly.

  Tom laughed. “Yeah they have a way of starting off so good and then crumbling right before the playoffs. Fortunately for us, the Chargers are peaking at the right time.” He sipped his beer. “Who’s your pick for winning the Super Bowl?”

  I couldn’t tell whether Maddie’s father knew Peter was faking it, or whether he was trying to have a father–son moment with his future son-in-law, but out of the corner of my eye I could see that Maddie was enjoying this football grilling just as much as I was. She had to know Peter knew nothing about the sport, let alone the names of the other teams.

  “It looks like a tough field right now … ” Peter’s voice trailed off and he took a sip of his bourbon.

  None of us knew what he meant by that; the season was almost over and the teams were narrowing down quickly. Tom shook it off and tried a different approach. “Now, this is a good beer.” He held it up and looked at the label. “Fat Tire, huh? Is it a local beer?”

  I waited for Peter to implode. He was a bourbon man, probably because he thought it was a more manly drink. In family and his business circles, at least, it was a more manly drink. This conversation was fast demonstrating that he couldn’t talk to Maddie’s father about simple “man subjects”‌—‌football and beer. Even I could bluff on those topics, but not Peter.

  “Fat Tire is from our hometown, Tom. They brew it in Fort Collins,” Sarah jumped in breezily, unwilling to watch Peter suffer anymore.

  I chuckled to myself in the knowledge that Peter had to be rescued by a girl. Tom looked at the beer label again and then took another swig.

  Maddie’s mom saw a break in the conversation and turned to me. “We have heard so much about you. How long have you two been dating?”

  I stared in disbelief. Never had a parent asked me how long I had been with anyone. On most family occasions, I was completely ignored. And Sarah was sitting right next to me, so it was clear she knew I was dating a woman. Several seconds rushed by before I composed myself enough to smile. I answered, “Over a year now.” I looked at Sarah, who smiled back at me. At least I got that answer correct, I thought.

  “I think the Giants have a good shot this season, Dad. Eli wants to prove he’s better than Peyton.” Maddie looked smugly at Peter‌—‌a look that said, “Fuck off,” or was I imagining that?

  Tom turned in his chair to face his daughter. “Well, the Colts are out of it completely this year, with Peyton’s injury.”

  While Maddie chatted with her dad about sports, her mom asked Sarah and me about living in Fort Collins. Peter sulked in his chair. Normally, he dictated the conversation.

  * * *

  Even though I had dreaded attending a party with Peter’s friends, the evening turned out to be less painful than I thought it would be. For the most part, Peter stayed with his friends, and Sarah, Maddie, and I hung out with Maddie’s parents. The conversation flowed easily, and the love and attention they showed their daughter surprised me. It shouldn’t have, since Sarah had a loving relationship with her mother, too, but I had always thought Sarah was the exception.

  I assumed everyone interacted with their parents like I did with mine. After interacting with Sarah’s mom, and now Maddie’s parents, I was starting to wonder if only a few people hated their families.

  While I pondered this, Peter and one of his buddies crashed our inner circle, standing there clutching their bourbons, awaiting a break in the conversation.

  When he sensed a pause, Peter pounced. “Lizzie, how was the skiing in Vail?”

  I paused to think up a believable story, and Maddie interjected, “Peter, why don’t you introduce your friend?”

  Peter looked flustered. Regaining his composure, he said, “My apologies. Samuel, I would like to introduce you to my sister Lizzie, Sarah, and Maddie’s parents, Tom and Joan.”

  Samuel smiled, or at least I think he did. His lips moved for a second.

  “So, Lizzie, how was the skiing? Samuel has a holiday home in Vail. He’s heading up there tomorrow and would like a ski update. Did you get your pussy ass up on skis?” My brother laughed maliciously.

  Sarah came to my rescue. “Actually, we decided to rent some snowboards. By the end of the weekend, Lizzie could have given people lessons.”

  Maddie seemed to glow with happiness.

  Peter stammered, “I-I don’t believe it. You don’t seem like the snowboarding type.”

  “Snowboarding, huh? I guess that is good and all,” Samuel chimed in, “but I prefer skiing. If it was good enough for my ancestors, it’s good enough for me.”

  None of us knew what in the hell he meant by that, except Peter.

  “I concur, Samuel,” said Peter. “Snowboarding is for hooligans. Lizzie … I guess … well, I guess I’m not that surprised by such behavior considering … ”

  Sarah muffled a laugh.

  Was he implying that because I was gay I was also a snowboarding hooligan?

  “I tried snowboarding a few years ago.” Maddie’s dad joined the fray. “I couldn’t stay up on the damn thing. Not only that, but by the end of the day, my armpits were on fire from pushing myself up off the ground every few seconds.” He turned to me. “Bravo, Lizzie, for trying.” He raised his
beer glass in my direction. I used my good arm to raise my cocktail.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Maddie rise and whisper in Peter’s ear. Blushing, he abruptly left the group.

  Samuel stood there briefly before excusing himself. Before he left, he did that weird lip thing again. Another attempt to smile?

  “What did you tell him?” Sarah turned to Maddie as soon as Peter had left.

  “I told him he had a bat in the cave,” said Maddie, her words drowned out by Sarah’s snort of laughter.

  Sarah quickly covered her mouth and Maddie’s parents chuckled and politely veered the conversation in another direction.

  Casually, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and texted Ethan, asking what Maddie meant.

  He replied: LOL … Lizzie, it means you have a booger in your nose. Happy New Year.

  I glanced at Maddie and then at Peter, who had just returned. He threw Maddie a look I knew was designed to be intimidating, but she kept smiling anyway. It took everything I had not to laugh. My esteem for her skyrocketed.

  Peter approached our group slowly. His fake smile alerted me that he was ready to attack.

  “I do love your sense of humor, Maddie.” His voice was strained.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She gave him a peck on the cheek.

  I knew this wouldn’t appease him. Peter never could take a joke.

  He turned to me, nudged my arm, and started to say something. He stopped. I felt him tug at the brace.

  “What are you wearing? A brace!” He laughed. “What’d you do, hit a tree while snowboarding?” Merriment danced in his eyes.

  I was a deer in the headlights. If he found out now, I knew he would take all of his aggression out on me.

  Sarah laughed. “You won’t believe this, Peter. After amazing me with her snowboarding skills, on our last run, an out-of-control skier took her out at the bottom of the slope.”

  Maddie’s smile bolstered Sarah’s bravado.

  Sarah continued. “It was quite terrifying, actually. This poor chap ended up seriously injuring himself when he finally collided with a building. But before he stopped, he mowed down three people that I saw.” She took a sip of her beer. “Who knows how many more he hurt. Lizzie saw him coming and ran to push a child out of the way. In the process, Lizzie got creamed. The mother was so appreciative. She wanted to give your sister an award!” Sarah turned to me and added, “But you know Lizzie, she didn’t want to be in the limelight.”