A Woman Lost Page 4

  “No, you idiot. The song ‘Hot Hot Hot’ by The Cure. Check it out. It’s a fun song. You can’t always listen to audiobooks, you know.”

  “Why aren’t you saying anything about the real topic instead of some stupid song?”

  “Lizzie, there’s nothing I can say. You have painted yourself into quite the corner.” He was staring at the barista.

  “What, are we going to talk in code today? The man with the yellow hat owns a monkey.”

  He chuckled. “I loved Curious George when I was little, too.” He placed both hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair.

  “That’s great, Ethan. Let’s not talk about my situation. Let’s discuss children’s literature.”

  He could tell I was upset. “Don’t get mad at me, Lizzie. You should be mad at yourself.”

  “I … I know. How do I get into these situations?” I banged my hand on the table and almost spilled my chai.

  “You do have a knack for it. I don’t know what to tell you. It took you forever to let me in, and I know you haven’t even let me in completely. It’s just how you are. Sarah will have to accept that about you. The question is: do you want to stay with her?” He stared at me intensely.

  I stared back into his Coke-bottle glasses. “What do you mean?”

  “You convinced her that you love her by squeezing out a few tears. But ask yourself why there were tears. Were you sad? Or were you just so overwhelmed with the situation that you didn’t know what to do? I’ve seen you almost cry here when they were out of chai. You’re so wound up all of the time that sometimes you crack. What made you crack that day? Also, you aren’t the most honest person. You have a way of telling people what you think they want to hear and not how you feel.”

  Right then, my cell phone rang. I stared at it for a second before I answered. “Hello.”

  “Hey, Lizzie. It’s Maddie. How are you doing?”

  “Hi, Maddie. I’m doing well. What are you up to today?” I looked at Ethan to keep him quiet.

  He stared at me in disbelief.

  “Hey, we’re leaving town on Tuesday,” Maddie said. “Would you like to get together for lunch tomorrow?”

  “Yeah, sounds great. How about I come down there this time?”

  Ethan started to wave his arms frantically in the air and mouthed, “No.”

  I hushed him. I didn’t think Maddie even noticed the commotion.

  She continued, “I have a better idea. Why don’t we meet in Boulder? Peter tells me that they have good shopping along Pearl Street.”

  “Sounds good. I know some superb restaurants there.”

  We quickly arranged where to meet, and I hung up.

  Ethan shook his head in bewilderment, “Are you going to tell Sarah?”

  “Tell Sarah what, Ethan?” I looked him right in the eye.

  He laughed. “You’re playing with fire, Lizzie. Be careful. Is Peter going to be there?”

  “I didn’t ask, but I have a feeling we’ll be alone.”

  “So, what’s it like going on a date with your future sister-in-law?” He furrowed his brows.

  “I’ll let you know.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing you turned your phone on today.” He reached for his coffee and started to sip it, but then paused. Holding the cup close to his mouth, he added in a sinister voice, “Or is it?”

  I smiled.

  “Don’t try that with me. I don’t think your smile is all that cute.”

  I pretended to be hurt. Ethan laughed and I turned my attention to the window and watched the cars drive by.

  After a minute or two, I said, “Sarah mentioned to Maddie that she was in love with me. What does that mean really?”

  Ethan stared at me like I was a dingbat.

  “I mean, I know we say I love you, but is ‘in love’”‌—‌I waved my hand‌—‌“oh, I don’t know, even stronger?”

  “Well, it isn’t as deep as saying ‘I heart you.’”

  “Come on, I’m being serious.”

  “So am I, Lizzie. Sometimes you sound like a relationship idiot. You analyze everything. People who think there’s a difference between love and ‘in love’ are only fooling themselves. What are you so scared of?”

  I stared back at him and watched him tug at the corner of his moustache. I didn’t have an answer for him.

  Did love scare me? Could I spend my life with just one person? Or would I end up like my parents, hating my partner? I pictured them at the club when I had met Maddie. My father hadn’t spoken to any of us. My mother never said a word to my father, but I had felt her hatred seething inside. The thought terrified me. Would I be like my father and Sarah like my mother? I shivered.

  * * *

  That night, I took Sarah out to dinner. Afterwards, I planned on taking her to a movie she had wanted to see. For the first half of the meal I kept trying to come up with ways to tell her that I was meeting Maddie in Boulder but that I wanted to go alone. Usually, we kept Sundays just to ourselves. I was obviously struggling to find the right words.

  Instead, I chattered on and on about my students and the papers I had just graded. She talked about her students. Sarah taught English at one of the local high schools. For the most part, it was a pleasant evening, which made me feel even more like scum. There we were, having a pleasant meal discussing our work, and all I could really think about was how to ditch her on Sunday, our day together, and spend it with Maddie.

  “Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. Matt called and he’s coming to town tomorrow. I hope you don’t mind, but we are going to have lunch with his parents.” Matt had been her boyfriend in high school. They had remained close friends throughout college. He was a cool guy, but he always felt slightly uncomfortable around me.

  I nearly dropped my fork. Doing my best to regain my composure, I said, “Really … it’s supposed to be nice out tomorrow.” Slicing off a piece of steak, I continued. “Maybe I’ll hook up my bike and go for a ride in the mountains.” I placed the chunk of steak in my mouth.

  She smiled. “Geez, it will be such a lovely day for a bike ride. I wish I could go.”

  I didn’t want to risk her changing her plans, so I said nothing; instead, I motioned to the waitress for our check.

  “What do you want to do now?” Sarah looked, and sounded, relaxed, as though all of the week’s earlier events had never occurred. I marveled at her way of compartmentalizing problems in her head.

  “I thought we could go see that movie you’ve been dying to see. It’s playing at the Cinemark on Timberline.”

  “Which one?”

  “Moonrise Kingdom.”

  She squealed and clapped her hands. “I’ve been dying to see that. It’s been out for a while.” She smiled. “I thought you’d forgotten that I wanted to see it.”

  I grinned back at her and led her out of the restaurant and to the car.

  Chapter Five

  The next day, I stood awkwardly on the corner outside one of the stores on Pearl Street and watched Maddie wait for the crosswalk sign. She stood there smiling, looking radiant, until finally, the light changed and she approached.

  “How was your drive?”

  “Oh, my gosh, Lizzie, I got so lost on my way here.” She was breathing heavily. “Is there always so much construction in Colorado? Every major road has some detour. It’s crazy. And the people here do not understand the concept of merging. This one guy actually stopped while trying to get on the highway. Who stops when getting on the highway?” She flipped her hair back. “If he tried that in California, someone would have hit him out of spite, or shot him.” She hugged me and kissed my cheek. Her perfume made me giddy.

  “Yes, there is always construction here, especially when the weather is nice. And I have to agree that people are idiots behind the wheel. I try to stick to the back roads out here. Not so many blockheads. Plus, you get to look at horses and cows.”

  Really? Really! Was I this much of a moron all of the time? Horses and cows! She was a Ca
lifornia girl, why would she want to look at horses and cows?

  “I better get used to it … I got the job.” She jumped in excitement and let out the cutest little squeal.

  I hugged her, overcome with excitement, fear, and anger. She would now become a permanent fixture in my life. For the first time in my life, I was jealous of Peter. Everyone had always assumed I was. He had everything: good looks, charm, wit, intelligence, and confidence. But I had never wanted to be like him. At that moment, I wanted to be him.

  We pulled apart and I looked into her eyes. “That’s great, Maddie. Peter must be so happy for you.”

  “I think he is. He bought me a new car last night. The BMW I wanted.” Another squeal.

  I laughed and said, “That’s so my mom.”

  I immediately regretted it. She didn’t deserve such a callous remark.

  But she just laughed at me. “I knew you would say something like that. It’s almost like you can’t help it. You just say what you think, especially when it comes to your family. Your mouth opens and the words spill out even if they are words others really don’t want to hear. I love it. I love your verbal brutality.”

  “Verbal brutality? That seems a bit harsh. But I like it. It’s very to the point. In fact, it’s something I would’ve said.”

  She did a little curtsy for me and we laughed and started walking along Pearl Street.

  * * *

  We sat outside a little fondue place. The weather was gorgeous, and when the sun shone at that time of year, Coloradoans flocked to alfresco venues. We sat at one of the tiny tables squeezed onto an even smaller patio. Maddie’s bags, squashed under the table, made it hard to get comfortable, but I didn’t mind.

  She held her wineglass against her cheek, propping her head up with her other arm, her elbow resting on the table. “Tell me something you haven’t told anyone else.”

  I thought for a moment but didn’t question why she was asking. I wanted to find the right answer. “I really enjoy riding my bike‌—‌”

  “And I really enjoy chocolate chip cookies,” she interrupted.

  I smiled. “Now hold on and listen to what I have to say before you make a smartass comment.”

  She nodded in acknowledgement and sipped her wine. “Okay, but you’ll have to make it more interesting than ‘I like to ride my bicycle.’ Or I won’t divulge my deep, dark desires.” She ran a finger along my arm.

  Her suggestive wink made me swallow hard. It was too late to come up with something sexier. Shit!

  I swallowed again and forged ahead. “For the past few years, I was pretty sick. For a while, the doctors couldn’t figure out what was wrong with me. All that time, I didn’t work out at all. So, as you can imagine, I got out of shape. Now, I’m doing everything I can to get back into shape.

  “Have you ever been told you have an illness that’s trying to kill you? Fortunately, mine is treatable. I take a pill each night. But when I first heard the diagnosis, I went online and looked it up. One hundred years ago, this disease was a death sentence. Well, that scared the crap out of me. I know I won’t die from it, but I want to get into the best shape of my life, just in case I get something else. I want to be ready.”

  Maddie’s eyes darted towards a couple walking by. She casually asked, “What illness do you have?” She continued watching the man as he pulled out a chair for his wife.

  I stifled a laugh. Her smooth way of inserting the question impressed me. She didn’t want to seem too eager to learn my secret.

  “Oh, I hardly mention its name. When people learn you have an incurable illness, they romanticize it. Why they do this astounds me. Many immediately think of cancer and chemo treatments. My illness isn’t glamorous. If you can call cancer glamorous.”

  “Poor, Lizzie.” She laughed. “Stuck with a sub-par ailment. As a Petrie, that has to bug the piss out of you. You all like to excel at everything, even being sick.”

  Her reply stung, but it intrigued me. Maddie wasn’t like other women I flirted with. Her honesty cut to the quick. If I wanted to pursue anything, I had to pick up my game.

  “Okay, smartass. I have Graves’ Disease.”

  “Ha!” She slammed her hand down on the table. “I knew that would get you to spill the beans. You are more like your brother than you would like to admit.”

  My blood boiled, but I smiled. She was playing me. Not that I would admit that to her.

  “Seriously” ‌—‌she put her hand on mine and squeezed‌—‌ “are you okay? I haven’t known you long, but I would like to keep you around. Besides, you can’t let me fend for myself. Your family is‌—‌”

  “Full of assholes.” I interrupted.

  “Exactly!”

  I didn’t have the courage to ask if she included Peter in that category. Or me.

  Diverting the conversation away from my family, I said, “Once, when I told a woman I had Graves’ Disease, she asked if they called it that because I would end up in a grave.”

  “Is it?” She leaned closer, concerned.

  “No. Of course, that would make my illness cooler.” I teased.

  “Don’t you mean more tragic. Then, when you tried to seduce women, you could say, ‘I don’t have long to live. Before I go, I would like to know the true meaning of love.’” She sighed dramatically and coughed like someone on his or her deathbed.

  “Would that work with you?” I perked up in my chair.

  “Of course not! I would only sleep with a cancer patient.” She winked at me.

  I shook my head. “You are terrible. Now I need to come down with cancer.”

  Smiling, she squirmed in her chair, and asked, “How often do you ride? Your bike, that is.” Her face reddened.

  “Almost every day.” A breeze blew some of my hair into my mouth and I casually pulled the strands off my lips, wishing I had a hair tie to pull it back into a ponytail.

  She looked at me like so what. “This is your big secret?”

  “I’ve turned it into a challenge. I am determined to ride my bike 3,000 miles during the next six months.”

  “3,000 miles … are you insane?”

  “Of course! But that isn’t the point. I figured if I ride at least 20 miles each day, it would only take me five months to reach 3,000. Some days I go for longer rides. Those days add up to at least two days worth, which gives me some wiggle room for days it snows and stuff.” Saying this out loud for the first time made me feel rather silly.

  “You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

  “Yes.” I fidgeted in my chair. Why did I share this with her? Now she would probably think I was batty. A bike challenge, what, was I five?

  “So why haven’t you told Sarah?” Her accusing eyes watched my every move.

  I shook my head slowly. “I guess I didn’t even think of telling her. She knows I go riding almost every day. I don’t know why I haven’t told her the rest. Most people don’t want to hear about illness or be reminded about it. At first, they’re sympathetic and want to hear the details, asking how you’re feeling, but that fades quickly. People don’t want to hear about it. They certainly don’t want to be reminded of it. It scares them, even when it isn’t cancer.”

  Again, she changed the subject. “Is there a reward or something for reaching 3,000 miles?”

  “A dog named Zeb.”

  She choked on her wine. “A dog named Zeb … what are you talking about?”

  “I figure that if I can stay focused on the challenge, it’ll show reliability and prove I’m responsible enough for a dog. A dog is a lot of responsibility.”

  She chuckled. “You’re very different from how I thought you were going to be.”

  “What do you mean? What did you think I’d be like?” I slumped down in my chair.

  “Don’t get me wrong, you and Peter are very alike in some ways. You two are almost identical twins. It’s scary sometimes. You are both secretive. And you are both very driven individuals. But something else drives you … not just success
.” She paused and took a sip of wine. “Challenge. Yes, you love a challenge.” Another sip of wine. “However, I haven’t figured out if you like to conquer things as well. Or people.” She patted my arm, letting her hand linger a few moments.

  “Now, your turn.” I looked eagerly at her.

  “I’m not sure you can handle my secret,” she said in a demure voice.

  “Oh, come on! Or I’ll think you’re rodomontade.”

  She set her wine glass down. “A what?”

  “Rodomontade. Someone who’s a pretentious braggart.” I flashed a cunning smile.

  “How long have you been holding onto to that one?” She poured more wine into her glass. “Do you use such impressive words all of the time or just around those you are trying to impress?”

  I didn’t want to admit that I saved them for those who intimidated me.

  “Stop stalling.” I dipped a strawberry into the chocolate fondue.

  “Okay. I wouldn’t want you to think of me as a rodo-thingy.”

  “Rodomontade.”

  “You can keep saying it, but it doesn’t make it sound any cooler.” She took a sip of her wine. “This secret isn’t a big secret. I mean many people know about it … but I haven’t told your brother. And, I should add, I don’t intend to.”

  I waited anxiously. What could it be?

  She looked away and blurted out, “I’m bisexual.”

  I choked on my water. Did I accidentally swallow an ice cube, and was it now lodged in my throat? Beating my chest with one fist, I imagined my face turning a vivid violet.

  Maddie started to stand to help me, but I motioned for her to stay seated.

  Still gasping for air, I said, “You got me on that one.”

  “What do you mean?” She looked puzzled.

  “You’re joking, right?” I sipped my water gingerly to relieve the tickle in my throat.

  “Are you against bisexuality?” She looked miffed.

  “What? N-no. Of course not. I‌—‌” I looked around, searching for the right words. “I only thought you were trying to one-up my ‘I like my bike’ secret.”