Saturday, April 24, 2010
EVERY DAY HE PROVED how much he loved me. Sometimes he had strange ways of doing it, but the message was clear.
If it was just age, and we were always going to be aging and evolving, then I couldn’t wait to see what Casey would be like in five years. Ten years. My heart felt full and I felt content from the thought of a future with him. Our future.
He freaking bought my apartment building, all because Grant came in without permission. It went against every slightly feminist fiber in my body to be okay with what he’d done, but I understood it. He’d been powerless for so long. How was I to know, if I’d just gone to him, if I’d just let him know I needed him in the past—that he’d be there for me in every single way that I’d let him?
It wasn’t unknown to me anymore.
He was becoming more than just a friend, more than just a lover. He was what living felt like. Having someone who would argue with you over things, then blindly go into battle with you, for you, even when you were as wrong as I’d been so many damn times.
I talked to Micah on the phone the night before I flew to San Francisco for Foster’s party. His birthday was actually Monday, but they were having his party on Saturday because it was easier. It was hard to believe he was already a year old.
“What brought all of this change on, Blake?” She laughed as she questioned me about everything that had happened since her wedding. “Cory and I were talking about this the other day. We don’t get it. You guys chased each other in circles for so long. And then it was like boom. Everything just flipped.”
She was right, but there wasn’t just one moment. There were many that led me to finally admit—and not just to myself—what I wanted. What I needed.
“On my honeymoon, I knew I’d made a mistake. A huge mistake. One morning, I was alone on the beach and wrote a letter to him. Micah, I messed up. You don’t know how badly I wanted to tell him. To take it all back. Do it all over. But there I was. Before the wedding, he came to my mom and dad’s. Did you know that?”
“He did? We knew he went to the wedding, but we didn’t know he saw you first.”
“He did. He told me he loved me and I told him to leave. I was angry that it had taken him that long, and I was scared. Because it was my wedding day and it felt like it was out of my control. So I thought I’d just wait, then I’d leave Grant. Isn’t it sad I started planning my divorce two days after my wedding?” My voice was starting to shake. Even with weeks of seeing Dr. Rex, I still struggled with forgiving myself.
“Oh, Blake,” she consoled.
“Then, when I went to see him, after his mother passed away, I knew it wasn’t fair to trail him along until I was brave enough. It wasn’t fair to have him wait for me, when I didn’t even deserve him. At your wedding, when everything came out, I didn’t have to worry about telling or confessing anymore. It was out and it was like my eyes had been opened. That was my chance.” It had only been four months, but so much had happened. I was taking ownership of my choices. Truthfully, it started with me making the first right one. Not going back to Grant’s.
I sat there on my bed, my suitcase open and almost totally packed, talking to my friend. A friend who Casey and I had managed to put in the middle of our mess so many times.
“I owe you an apology for your wedding.”
“You’ve apologized a million times. Stop.”
“Well, I’m sorry it happened there, but I’m thankful it happened.”
“I’m glad, too. I want you to be happy. The bonus is, we like seeing how happy Casey is, too.”
“Good. Now how’s the birthday boy?” The world didn’t revolve around us. Even though Micah and Cory were always there for us both, in some way, we’d stolen focus from them on more than one occasion. And tomorrow was all about that sweet little boy.
“Into everything. Wait until you see his chubby little waddle. He’s a mess.” She giggled and then spoke to Foster, who was no doubt at her ankles. “Yes, you are. You’re a mess.”
She told me about how he was saying “mama” and “duh-duh” and how he laughed at just about everything. She confessed that every evening, while Cory was putting Foster into his pajamas, they’d have a man-to-man talk. And while she was supposed to be making his bottle, she’d secretly listen and swoon her ass off—her words, not mine—every single night.
She sided with me about needing to tell Grant I didn’t want to go to couples counseling, for the same reasons. The main one being—it was a waste of time. He never showed up, always having something urgent pop up. And ultimately, it wasn’t going to change a damn thing. But Casey had insisted I keep my end of the deal, and I continued to invite him anyway, until May. If he had ever showed up that would have been the six sessions we agreed to.
I was happy he never showed up. And Dr. Rex and I—even though it probably wasn’t professional on her part—decided if he ever did, she’d just tell him it wasn’t going to work out. She’d explain couples therapy wasn’t a good solution for our marriage.
Our marriage. What a joke that turned out to be.
Micah and I hung up, excited we’d get to see each other the next day.
Before I fell asleep, I sent Casey a message. He was out to dinner with a new customer, but telling him goodnight was a routine I liked. I slept better after sending him even the most trivial of texts. Knowing I probably wouldn’t get his reply until morning, it still left me feeling sound and like things were as they should be.
Me: I’m crashing out. I hope they loved you and they buy all the beers. LOL. I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you.
I rolled over and was surprised when my phone chimed right after.
Casey: Bad meeting. Aly showed up. I’ll call you in the morning to wake you up? Six thirty?
Aly.
As much as I hated her, simply because she wanted my man, I was surprised how much she’d backed off Casey after New Year’s. At least, to my knowledge she had. There was no reason for me to think otherwise. He told me everything.
Besides, his text told me he wasn’t pleased about her being there.
Me: Yeah, six thirty is good, but I’m still up if you want to talk now.
Casey: No. She’s drunk. I’m going to put her to bed.
I took a calming breath. She was drunk, but—according to the lack of typos—he wasn’t.
I trusted Casey.
I trusted Casey.
I trusted Casey.
I chanted that to myself thirty times. He’d never given me any reason not to. And I think he trusted me, too. Even though, my track record showed I shouldn’t be trusted with a ten-foot pole.
Me: All right.
Casey: All right... and...?
Me: And I love you.
Casey: I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. We’re not going this long again without seeing each other. It sucks too much.
Casey: ... and I love you too.
He was right. We hadn’t seen each other since Valentine’s Day and it really was too long. Casey was spending a lot of time in Austin and I’d kept very busy out of town with work, too.
That was another reason the therapist appointments with Grant weren’t going as planned. Working around my schedule was a challenge. But I still thought he wasn’t signing the papers just to be difficult. I was really close to saying fuck it and having him served.
I didn’t want to be that person, but he wasn’t leaving me with many options. The sooner my divorce was final, the sooner I’d feel more comfortable making plans for Casey and me.
Or landlord and me—which I now thought was kind of hot.
After he bought my building, and had all of the locks changed, he also put up a fence. The apartment next to mine became empty and Casey was holding it for Audrey. She wanted to move out of the dorms and he thought it was the perfect solution having me right next door.
I reminded him she was an adult.
He reminded me she was still his little sister living in a big city where he didn’t know many people.
Audrey was great. I was ecstatic to have someone I knew living next door. I knew he wouldn’t charge her rent, because he hadn’t cashed either of my checks. Casey liked the idea of being able to see her more when he had the time to visit in the future—when work for the both of us slowed down a little.
After spring semester ended, she’d move in.
Secretly, I loved spending time with her. She and Casey were so much alike, in a free spirit sort of way. And the hair. Although lighter, it was curly and even if it was a small thing, it made me smile. We were meeting up about once a week for coffee, and we were flying together for the birthday party. Being around her made me miss him less.
I hoped soon I wouldn’t have to miss him at all.
Although we both traveled for work, how I would love it if we had a home base. Our home base. I would still miss him, but it wouldn’t feel as though my heart only partially beat all the time.
Sleep didn’t come easily that night, which was nothing new. Between excitement, thinking about how it would go with Casey’s family, how would we act, what Casey was doing with Aly, mulling over my divorce, and staying at Casey’s house for the weekend—I was an overinflated ball of nerves.
Why did staying at his house feel so strange? Was it because I’d left him there? I found that hard to believe. I’d left him, or he’d left me in lots of places. Was it because I knew I couldn’t stay? That might be a better answer.
I loved that house. The property. The layout. The kitchen. The view. The owner.
In my heart, that was where I really wanted to be. Going there, then having to leave all over again, was going to be a challenge. But maybe this time it wouldn’t feel like leaving as much. I hoped this time it would feel like a visit and a place I was looking forward to returning to.
Thank God I packed the night before, because I totally overslept.
I didn’t fall asleep until around three and I didn’t wake up for my alarm. I didn’t wake up until I heard knocking on my front door.
I shot out of bed and ran to the door, knowing it was Audrey. She was picking me up like we’d planned.
“Shit. I overslept!” I shouted at her in greeting, as I swung the door open and immediately turned around to start damage control.
“Chill, I’m a little early. You’re fine. It’s only eight,” she said. That helped a little. Our flight wasn’t until ten fifteen.
I jumped into the shower and washed quickly, bringing my toothbrush in with me to save time. I shaved the basics and decided it would have to do.
I was ready in ten minutes. I could put on a little makeup in flight and I decided to let my hair air-dry. Do the wavy thing. Casey had said he’d liked it like that when we were in Costa Rica anyway. I managed the front parts, so I didn’t look too out of control, and called it good. I wore a pale blue skirt, a plain white top, a tan cardigan, and flats.
After a quick review of myself in the mirror, I was categorically nerdy.
We made it on time and our flight seemed to go by really quickly. On the plane, I thought I’d be the only one nervous or fidgety, I was still anxious about everything that was happening. But the closer we got to San Francisco, the more nervous Audrey got.
“Are you okay?” I asked, as we were instructed to fasten out seat belts for our final descent.
“Yeah,” she said and waved me off. “I’m fine.” But she didn’t look fine. She looked uneasy.
“Are you sure?”
She appeared like she wanted to tell me something, but then just smiled and said, “Sometimes going home isn’t easy.”
“Why not?”
From what I knew of their family, they all got along great. What could she possibly have to worry about? She was doing really well in school. Earlier that week, when we were at coffee, she’d even told me she might start looking for a boyfriend. Which was something I’d never heard her say before. In all of the times we’d ever talked, and when I’d asked her, she’d always said she was too focused on her art and wasn’t looking for a relationship. Maybe she was feeling lonely in Seattle, but it also could have been she was a nineteen-year-old wanting to fall in love. Whatever it was, it surely shouldn’t make her nervous to go home.
Then, when we’d landed and I powered up my phone, my focus changed.
Casey hadn’t called me that morning.