CHAPTER 11
JEANINE CLICKED ON THE TURN SIGNAL, and Bill leaned forward eagerly from the passenger side, trying to get a glimpse of the house. She pointed into the distance where it sat behind leafy green trees. I surveyed the neighborhood from my open window, taking in the quiet stillness of the streets, save the almost imperceptible rustling of foliage. As she turned onto the street, I admired the old-fashioned but grand houses that sat comfortably in their foundations, settled from decades of existence.
Bill turned from the front of the car. “The drive wasn’t so bad, was it? Oak Park is an easy commute,” he decided, turning back to watch out the windshield.
“It really is,” Jeanine agreed, glancing at him. “You also have the option of the ‘L’ train. It’s maybe a thirty, forty minute ride.” Bill’s excitement to move out of the city overshadowed my discontent. I was apprehensive, but now, I had to agree. It wouldn’t be too far from my beloved Chicago, and Bill would get a taste of the slow life. Compromise, Olivia.
As she pulled up to the house, I was taken aback by its magnificence. Its enormity lay in the imposing features, rather than in square footage. The property was run-down and thick with overgrown brush, but somehow, it was alive with character. I loved that it was different from the houses around it, with hard angles and flat lines, but that the atmosphere of the street was still present.
I unbuckled my seatbelt and stepped out to get a better look. Dead grass crunched under my shoes as I used my hand to shield the lowering sun.
“Olivia!” I turned to see Jeanine gesturing to me as she and Bill crossed the street. “Over here!”
I looked behind her in confusion, noticing the ‘For Sale’ sign planted firmly in lush green grass. When I turned back, I searched for the same sign on my lawn but found nothing. Feeling foolish, I ran across the pavement to meet Bill and Jeanine, who were talking energetically and hadn’t noticed my blunder. In front of me stood another impressive house, yet it didn’t inspire the same feeling in me as its neighbor.
Jeanine led us inside the creaky house and took us from room to room enthusiastically. We climbed the stairs to find a sprawling master bedroom. For Bill, that would be the exclamation point on this sentence. While he and Jeanine lingered there to discuss amenities, I wandered down the hall and into a smaller room that faced the street.
I surveyed the bright green lawn from the second story, admiring its calm brilliance. A cracked window allowed me to breathe in the fresh spring breeze appreciatively. Maybe the suburbs aren’t so bad, I thought.
My eyes were drawn again to the house across the way. From where I stood, it seemed even more out of place on the street, an eyesore among champions. I began to imagine what it might look like with a trimmed hedge; how it would morph with a new stone walkway and a fresh coat of paint.
“What do you think?” I heard from behind me.
“I like the house across the street,” I said honestly, still staring out the window.
Bill was quiet for a moment. “And if you were on that side of the street, you’d like this one.” At times his tone could be so acerbic that I wondered how it didn’t eat right through him.
I turned to face him. “That’s not fair.”
“No? You haven’t liked any of the houses Jeanine has shown us. This is the best one yet. It’s perfect, Liv. Good neighborhood, in our price range, and bigger than we’d hoped.”
“You’re right, it is an amazing place. I’m just not sure it’s . . . right. I don’t know if I see myself here.”
“It’s not just about you, Liv. I’m part of this too. And we have our future to think about.”
“I understand that Bill,” I said, annoyed by the suggestion. “But buying a house is a huge decision, and I want to make sure it’s perfect.”
“Perfect doesn’t exist! There’s always going to be something, Liv. It will feel like home, you just have to give it time.”
I shook my head, feeling a bit like a stubborn child.
Just then, Jeanine appeared next to Bill. “I see you found the second room.” She smiled dully, and I got the impression that she was performing a familiar act, one that got old after a while. “Great for an office or maybe a nursery?”
My eyes flicked between them, and Bill laughed awkwardly. “We’re not quite there yet,” he told Jeanine.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said unconvincingly. “Most couples that move from the city are getting ready to start a family.” I knew Bill well enough to see that he was embarrassed.
“Yes, of course,” I said with an attempt at graciousness. “It’s a beautiful home. What’s the story with the house across the street?” I asked.
“Oh,” she said, coming over to the window. “I know, it’s appalling. The owners live in California and stopped taking care of it a while back. I think a couple neighbors have tried to report housing code violations, so perhaps one day they’ll sell or tear it down. I can find out for you.”
I placed my hand on the glass. “It’s rather charming.”
“I suppose,” she agreed. “But it’s a mess. It needs a complete overhaul. This house though, well . . . It won’t be on the market long.” I turned from the window to Bill, whose lips were pulled tight across his face.
“Let’s get more information, then,” I said, and without looking at either of them, left the room.
~
Back at the apartment, Bill lingered in the kitchen while I prepared dinner. I had no desire to reopen the discussion, but I had a feeling he wouldn’t let me get away with that. I started in on washing the lettuce, thankful for a task to distract me.
“So about this afternoon,” he ventured.
I grimaced with my back to him. “Here,” I said, turning to hand him a knife and motioning to two red tomatoes on the cutting board. “Can you chop those?”
He took the knife and began slicing. “What are you thinking?”
“About what?” I asked, turning back to the sink.
“Today.”
“Can you be more specific?”
He was quiet for a moment, and all I heard was the knife hitting the wood repeatedly. “That house is as close to perfect as it’s going to get, and we really can’t hesitate.”
“Yup, I got that. I said I’d think about it.”
“And Jeanine’s right. We’re at the point where we should start thinking about a family.”
I answered him with a heavy sigh. “I’m in the same place I was six months ago when we discussed this. And especially now, if I get this promotion, honey, I just don’t feel ready.”
“Olivia, you might never feel ready. It’s the same with the house. The timing will never be right, you just have to do it, and the rest will come.”
I stiffened anxiously. It wasn’t that I just didn’t feel ready. If I was being honest, I didn’t want it. And I worried that I never would. I remembered before Bill had proposed, when he and I had talked about our future, I had assured him that one day I would get there. That there would be a right time for children. Did that mean I owed it to him?
“I need more time.”
“I’m ready now.”
I whirled from the sink to face him. “Now?” I asked, incredulous. He was quiet again, but this time he’d stopped chopping, and his knuckles were white from gripping the knife. “Bill, be reasonable. I’m not ready.”
“I heard you the first time, but you are. We are. I don’t want you to start birth control.”
“Don’t push me Bill, this is too big of a decision.”
“It’s not a decision, Liv. It’s a feeling. I’m ready, and so are you.”
“Stop saying that! You don’t know what I am! What if you’re wrong – what happens if we’re not ready? I don’t want to end up like - ” I caught myself.
“Like what?” he asked, looking hurt. “Like your parents?” I didn’t say anything, but turned around so my back was to him again.
“That’s completely different, babe. They didn’t split up because of you. They changed, they fell out of love.”
We were silent, and the kitchen filled with the sound of the running faucet. I knew I hadn’t caused the divorce. But the year leading up to the split was the beginning of a painful downward spiral. Bill and I were happy now, but were we solid enough to bring a child into the world? And was that even what I wanted?
“Maybe you were right,” he said after some time had passed. “Maybe you’re not ready. We’ve been married for almost three years, and you still won’t let me in. I don’t know how else to get you to commit, Olivia. I’ve been patient, but I want this, and that’s not going to change. Promise me you’ll give this some serious thought.” Before I could answer, I heard him toss the knife on the table and leave the kitchen.
~
“It’s Gretchen.”
I took the phone from Bill’s outstretched hand so that he could return to sulking in silence. They were the first words he’d spoken to me since the night before. Fortunately, the latest James Patterson novel had kept him occupied for most of the morning.
“So I think I told you about the chef I’ve been dating?” Gretchen’s voice came through the phone. “His restaurant’s soft opening is tonight, and he wants me to invite people. You guys up for it?” She couldn’t have picked a better day to ask, I thought. Bill and I needed a distraction from each other.
“Let me call you back.”
“I thought you wanted a quiet weekend,” Bill said when I told him. He stuck his finger in his book and shut it.
“I do,” I said thoughtfully. “I did. But I think it could be fun. And it’s an invitation from the head chef.”
“Babe, no. I’m not in the mood.”
I dialed Lucy as Bill turned back to his book.
“Hey,” she picked up after the second ring.
“Are you guys going tonight?” I asked.
“Not sure yet. Andrew is throwing a tantrum about it. I guess there’s a game on,” she said.
“Oh, is there?” I asked, raising my eyebrows at Bill, who ignored me. I put my finger over the mouthpiece and asked, “A game? Really Bill?” He shrugged, and I rolled my eyes.
“Perhaps we should make it a girls night then,” I suggested, knowing that Bill wouldn’t be much happier about that.
“I was thinking the same thing. Oh, we can really get dressed up too! I’ll just check with Andrew.”
“Livs, come on,” Bill started.
“Off the hook. You’re welcome,” I snapped as I left the room. I disrobed and waited for the shower to heat, watching as steam began to curl over the door. I looked into the mirror at myself, admiring my slim figure. I ran my hands over my breasts and down my stomach, stopping to touch the small, raised scar on my side.
I had gotten what I’d wanted: distance from David. I still hadn’t heard from him. And it alarmed me to realize that the distance hadn’t helped. If anything, I thought of him more often. I wondered what he was doing, why he hadn’t called the office. I thought of him now, as I stood completely vulnerable in my bathroom. In Bill’s bathroom. I recalled our last conversation, when I had told him not to phone. Just business, I thought. After the argument with Bill, it was important that I focus on the life we were building - imperative, in fact. I blinked from the thought, finding my image distorted in the foggy mirror.
~
I pulled on my ear as I surveyed my closet, deciding on a one-shoulder, body-skimming gold sequined dress.
“Livs!” Bill shouted from the other room. “Lucy’s here!”
I grabbed my black platforms and went out to meet her. “Well, don’t you clean up nice!” I exclaimed.
“Not so bad yourself,” she said with a sweet smile.
“Is it too much?” I asked.
Bill looked over then. “Aren’t you going to be cold?”
“I’m taking a coat.”
He shifted as he looked me up and down. “Is this restaurant thing a big deal?”
Lucy shrugged. “We just felt like getting dressed up.”
“Well you both look gorgeous.” He unmuted the TV. “And please don’t leave me for the head chef,” he joked.
I wondered if his mood had changed because we had company or if he was over last night’s tiff. I never knew with him, but was grateful either way. I leaned over the couch, letting my hair fall over his shoulder. “Don’t wait up,” I said, planting a kiss on his cheek.
~
When we arrived, we found Gretchen at the bar with her roommates, Ava and Bethany. The three of them talked vivaciously, as though they didn’t see each other every day. Lucy and I tried our best to sew ourselves into the conversation about love, sex and dating. I could appreciate tales from the other side, but my stories had run out already. At least, any stories these girls would be interested in hearing. Ava, who was husband hunting, would surely be disappointed with Bill’s and my no-frills lovemaking. And Bethany, who was proudly unattached, would be bored by it. It didn’t upset me to think so; I’d happily left singledom behind. One drink in, the hostess approached and interrupted us mid-laugh.
“Harper?” she said to the group.
“That’s me,” said Gretchen, sliding off her stool.
“I apologize for the wait, Ms. Harper.” She stepped back, allowing us to gather our things. “Jeff wanted us to prepare a special table for you as his guests.” She showed us to a round table in the middle.
I turned back to Gretchen and asked under my breath, “Jeff the chef?”
Lucy and I burst into a fit of giggles as she rolled her eyes. “Grow up,” she scolded.
Gretchen insisted on facing the door to keep tabs on the crowd, and we molded ourselves around her. Almost immediately, the waiter arrived with what I recognized as an expensive Bordeaux and poured us each a glass. Someone else appeared with a plate of appetizers, and our girl talk took up warp speed as we indulged. Gretchen dished on Jeff, telling us that he had been wooing her for weeks but that she’d only just agreed to a first date.
“I could get used to this,” Bethany said. “I can’t wait to see what happens when you actually sleep with him!”
“Seriously,” Ava agreed as she finished off another glass.
All of a sudden, my ears tuned to a bass in the hum of the crowd. My body tensed, and I hunched down in my chair feeling instantly exposed. Gretchen had stopped talking and was staring over my sequined shoulder. Would I be able to escape to the bathroom before he noticed me? I was still stinging from the fact that he’d lost interest so quickly. Lucy, who was sitting next to Gretchen and was thoroughly tipsy, broke into a smile and waved her hand.
“Well, if it isn’t my lucky day.”
The hairs on the back of my neck rose. I lifted my head and reeled at the sight of David. He looked devilishly handsome in a charcoal pea coat that hung open to reveal a V-neck sweater and exposed checked collar. His eyes sought mine and that familiar electric current passed between us.
Then I saw her, the girl from the Internet. She was almost as tall as him in sky-high heels that lengthened already long dark legs. Caramel-colored hair fell in waves over her shoulders, framing those unmistakable green eyes. She donned a skin-tight red dress that showed off an athletic figure. Envy flooded over me so powerfully that I dug my nails into my seat cushion. I was surprised by the extremity of the unfamiliar emotion. She was the epitome of Latin beauty and her dark complexion melded flawlessly with his bronzed skin.
I looked him straight in the eyes and took pleasure in the uncertainty that flashed across his face. They were joined by a slight, severe man, just shorter than the woman, who had a pronounced nose and beady eyes that lingered a little too long.
“Lucky day, indeed,” he said in a distinct French accent, leering over each one of us. My skin tingled when he reached me, and I nervously touched my earlobe. David flashed me a quizzical look and cocked his head. I pulled my hand away, embarrassed. No, mortified; mortified that he was here with his stunning girlfriend. I chided myself for even thinking I could hold his interest.
“I didn’t realize you’d be here, David.” Lucy’s voice pitched into my thoughts.
“Arnaud, my associate,” he started, gesturing toward the man, “has graciously invited me and Maria for the opening. This was his project.”
“Oh, it’s wonderful. Congratulations!” Lucy chirped. Gretchen nodded emphatically in agreement, her eyes darting between Arnaud and David.
“Thank you,” Arnaud replied.
I focused my gaze ahead and clasped my hands in my lap. I could feel that my back was unnaturally straight so I tried to lean back into the chair but instantly sat back up, finding it uncomfortable.
“Gretchen knows the head chef,” Lucy offered as an explanation for our attendance.
“A friend of mine,” Gretchen interjected quickly with a laugh. “Just a friend.”
“David?” I heard the girl whisper silkily. I couldn’t help sneaking a peek. She appeared disenchanted, and stared straight ahead, plainly ignoring our presence.
“Hmm?” he asked distractedly. She motioned toward the waitress who was standing at their table patiently. “Ah. We’d better sit down. Nice to see you again, Lucy. Gretchen, Olivia, ladies,” he added. The way my name rolled off his tongue, it was as if he was saying it for the first time in the kitchen. I continued to evade his eyes, but I could feel him hesitate. Nobody noticed my unusually rude behavior because they were all staring after him as his party moved on.
“He remembered my name!” Gretchen squealed quietly.
“I just said it,” Lucy pointed out.
Ava and Bethany leaned over the table. “Spill!” one of them demanded.
“He’s a friend of Andrew’s.” They turned their attention to Lucy. “And get this - he made an appointment for a consultation with me next week.”
“Eee,” Gretchen squealed. “You lucky bitch! You’ll get to see him naked!”
Lucy turned a color I’d never seen on another human and shook her head. “My job isn’t like that, Gretchen!”
“Was that his girlfriend?” someone asked.
“Hmm, not sure,” Lucy considered. “I think he has lots of them . . . ,” she said, and they giggled.
“Lucy, hook a girl up,” Gretchen said seriously.
“Yeah, this girl,” Ava said. More giggling.
“I don’t know,” Lucy hesitated. “I really don’t know him at all. He’s Andrew’s friend. He seems really nice though.”
“Liv, are you all right?” Bethany asked, glancing over at me.
“Um, yeah.” The news that David and Lucy would be spending time together had my head spinning. I hadn’t mentioned his participation in the Most Eligible article to anyone. “I think I may have had too much wine,” I said apologetically.
Everyone fell into an unwarranted fit of laughter, and this time I joined them. We’d all had too much, I figured, and we were all feeling good. “I’m going to use the restroom.” I rose from my seat and paused once I felt those eyes on me. I was beginning to notice how I always knew when he was watching me, even when I couldn’t see him. “Anyone else?” I directed at the table, not wanting to be alone.
“I could go,” said Lucy.
“Me too.” Gretchen stood. I watched her flick long blonde ringlets over her shoulder as she shimmied out of her seat; a shimmy that was surely for David’s benefit. He had a perfect view of her rear, which is exactly what he’d be seeing if he’d still been looking in our direction. I moved quickly through the tables to the bathroom as Gretchen and Lucy followed.
Gretchen was first to the mirror, fixing her lipstick and touching her hair. I admired her pointed nose and aqua eyes. She really was beautiful, and I knew if there were someone who could capture David’s attention, it would be her. The thought saddened me.
Lucy joined us to check, fix and reapply. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “I think I found bridesmaid dresses. Can you guys make it one day next week for a lunchtime fitting?”
“Duh!” said Gretchen. “I’ll move some things around.”
Lucy looked at me, and I shrugged my shoulders helplessly. “Duh!” I mimicked. She clapped her hands with delight.
“What do they look like?”
“Very simple. Since we’re doing navy and ivory, I thought a wine red would be a really nice accent. You’ll both like the style, don’t worry.”
“Sounds beautiful, Luce,” Gretchen said.
Back at the table, there was a new sampling of dishes, and I forced myself to partake to mitigate my drinking. Just as I had bitten into a duck spring roll, my clutch vibrated on my lap. Everyone was engulfed in conversation, so I checked the screen. It was a text from an unknown number. Quickly, I scrolled through my call history to confirm my suspicion: it was from David.