CHAPTER TWENTY
Clouded Over
The next morning I was at Nick’s door, bleary eyed, with hot coffee and fresh donuts. The sky was grey and thick with clouds, moodier than the usual June gloom. I knocked once. Twice. No answer. I rang the doorbell. After a few minutes more I tried his phone. It went straight to voice mail. “Hi, this is Nick,” the recording said in a cheery tone. “Sorry I missed your call. Leave a message and I’ll call you back.”
“It’s Kate,” I said, in a tone far from cheery. “I’m at the house. Where are you? Call me when you get this.”
I tried texting him. There was no response, not even the three little dots you get when someone is typing. I sat on the porch for a while, confused. I’d said last night I was coming over this morning, hadn’t I? And he’d said okay. I wasn’t going crazy. I opened the pink box of donuts and pulled out a chocolate cruller. I finished it, then scarfed down a glazed one. It started drizzling, so I gave up and trudged back to my car with lukewarm coffee and what was left of the box.
By the time I got home the rain was coming down in big fat drops on my windshield. That kind of steady downpour didn’t happen often in L.A. I usually loved getting caught in it, like in that old “Piña Colada Song,” but it felt like a bad omen. I parked my car in the carport and drew my hoodie over my head as I ran up the back stairs to my apartment. When I got to the landing I found a white envelope with my name in Nick’s tidy handwriting. I hadn’t seen it when I left the house, so we must have missed each other. I took the letter out and read it right there on the landing, my nerves as jagged and frayed as the edge of the paper, torn hastily from a notebook.
Dear Kate,
I apologize for telling you this way, but I’ve decided to leave for Vancouver a day early. I thought it would be easier to go if I didn’t have to say goodbye in person. And I’m so, so sorry, but it has to be a final goodbye. I believe it would be better for both of us. If I was guarded around you it was only because I enjoyed being with you so much I was afraid of anything that might change that. You made my very complicated life seem simple. I was happy with you, happier than I’ve been in a really long time. Only it wasn’t real, because there is no simple for me. Not for you either, as long as you’re with me. I want you to have a great life, Kate. You deserve so much more than I can give you. I will always love you and cherish the time we spent together. I wish things could be different. You have no idea how much.
All my love,
Nick
By the time I finished reading the paper was dotted with tiny dark spots. I couldn’t tell which were raindrops and which were tears. Nick was gone, from the city and from my life. We were over, just like that, and I didn’t even get a say. I took the letter inside and shrugged out of my damp sweatshirt. Then I read it again. And again. By the sixth or seventh time my eyes were clear and dry. The more I read, the more I took issue with his unilateral decision. He didn’t get to decide whether I could handle a relationship with him. That was my call. I knew his secret, or at least some of it, and it didn’t change how I felt. He didn’t have to hide it from me anymore and he needed to know that. I might not be able to change his mind, but I could clear his conscience.
I didn’t waste any more time. I took out my phone and typed out a text message: “We need to talk. I know about Dana. Please call me.” Then I turned to the window and watched the rain fall.
By late afternoon the light rain had become a torrential downpour and there was no word from Nick. I did hear from my mother, though, who had heard about the video from my father. I didn’t ask how he’d found out. I think she was more upset about having to talk to him than she was about the video itself. She asked if I was eating right and offered to send me money. There weren’t many problems in her world that couldn’t be solved with food or cash. She and Nick would have gotten along well. She mentioned, all too casually, that I should feel free to bring him around sometime. I didn’t have the heart to tell her it wasn’t very likely.
Madison called to check on me too. After I told her about Nick’s letter she declared we needed a girls’ night in. I warned her I wouldn’t be very good company, but she insisted. She arrived as I was finishing a tray of microwaved macaroni and cheese with a side of ice cream.
“Hmm, mac and cheese, ice cream, and sushi pajamas. It’s more serious than I thought,” she said. I scanned the food on the coffee table and smoothed my hand over my well-loved pj’s, my go-to comfort clothes. I didn’t see what was wrong with any of it. She answered my unvoiced question, “You’re wallowing.”
“Am not,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.
“You totally are.” As I shut the door she took off her raincoat and boots. Leave it to Madison to own a pair of adorable wellingtons she could only wear once or twice a year. Then she she sank onto the couch and finished off the last bite of my macaroni.
“Fine. I lost my job, my boyfriend, and my dignity all in one week. I think I’m allowed to wallow.” I plopped down next to her.
“Hey, I’m not here to judge. I’m here to wallow with you.” She produced a bottle of red wine from her bag.
“Anna?” I ventured.
She shrugged. “Went back to her husband.”
I put my arm around her. “Aww. And I was starting to wonder if it’d be easier to date women.”
“Trust me, it’s not. Though I have to say, nothing could be more complicated than your relationship.”
“Uh. I hate that word. ‘Complicated.’ Can we ban it from now on?”
“Agreed. Normally in these circumstances I’d suggest we watch The Carriage House, but that’s ruined forever now.”
“Ugh. You’re right! He didn’t even leave me that.”
“Unforeseen consequence. So where’s this infamous letter? Can I read it?”
I took it from the desk and handed it to her. As she read I went into the kitchen and got us some wine glasses. I opened the wine and poured, enjoying her running commentary. “Weak,” she mumbled. “Coward. Oh, for the love of . . . Idiot.”
She folded the letter and slapped it on the coffee table. “Well I agree with one thing — you are better off without him.”
I rolled my eyes. “Let’s talk about you instead. Maybe hearing about your problems will take my mind off mine.”
She told me about her most recent ex-girlfriend, Anna, and how she’d known they were doomed from the start, but pursued it anyway. I poured her a another glass of wine. Why did love have to fuck with all the best people? As Madison was finishing her story, there was a knock at the door.
“Are you expecting someone?” she asked.
“No,” I said, putting down my glass. Three quick raps. I knew that knock.
I opened the door and sure enough, there was Nick on my porch, dripping wet, like he’d been standing outside in the rain for a while. I thought back to the night of the S.A.G. awards when he’d showed up at my door, his bow tie undone and his collar open, offering me a bag of luxury goods. His hands were empty now, but his sheepish expression was the same.
“You’re supposed to be in Vancouver,” I said.
“Missed my flight.” He peeked inside and saw Madison, slack-jawed on my couch. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t realize you had company.”
“It’s fine.” I gestured for him to come inside. “Nick, this is Madison. Madison, Nick.”
“Hey Madison. From the junket, right? I remember you.” He waved at her, then wiped the rain from his shoulders. It didn’t make much difference. He was drenched.
She grinned and waved back. Her attitude toward him had transformed radically in the last few minutes.
“I should have called,” Nick said. “I can come back later.”
Madison got up and pulled on her boots. “You know what? You stay. I was just leaving.” I tried to protest, but she interrupted me. “It’s fine. Really.” Grabbing the open wine bottle from the table, she took a swig, then corked it.
I turned back to Nick and mouthed, “I’m sorry.”
She shook her head and put on her raincoat. “I’ll get out of your hair. Don’t mind me. Nice to see you again, Nick. You guys have a good night.”
With the wine bottle tucked under her arm, she slipped past me to the open door. “Call me,” she whispered, though I was sure Nick could hear. I hugged her and promised I would.