Better Than None Page 12

  “I don’t know if you’re trying to clear your conscience by telling me, or what.” I shook my head with disgust. “Why couldn’t you have just left well enough alone? Huh? Two fucked up people screwing while their loved ones battled cancer. Wasn’t that bad enough? Why’d you have to go and ruin it?” Even as the words were coming out, I knew they weren’t right.

  “I’m trying to connect with you. I’m trying to show you why I am the way I am.”

  “You’re not trying to connect, you’re dumping your shit onto me and hoping I’ll just excuse you when you’re a dick. It doesn’t work like that.”

  “And you’re some relationship expert?”

  I laughed cynically. He had me there. Who knows, maybe this was normal date conversation. I surely wasn’t the arbiter of that.

  “No, not at all. I’ve never had a relationship with anyone other than my mother. And she’s dying. And you’re the one who’s supposed to save her.”

  Brad blanched. Maybe that was a low blow.

  I tried, but this wasn’t what I’d signed up for with Brad. I had the guy who I could talk to if I wanted, and that was Marty. I couldn’t do this with Brad. Brad was for fucking. Nothing more. I didn’t want to be his priest or his shrink, hearing his confession. I didn’t want to see him as human. I didn’t want to care about him. And most of all, I didn’t want to get attached to him. I knew enough to know he was not a nice man. Maybe once, a long time ago, maybe back when he started his practice he was a man who became a doctor because he cared and he wanted to help people. But that wasn’t the man I met. And that wasn’t the man I was fucking. If he became human, then what? I didn’t have an answer to that, but what I did know was that I couldn’t stay there any longer.

  There wasn’t anything left to say and something told me that if I didn’t leave then, the evening would only get worse. So I folded my napkin, set it on the table, grabbed my purse, and walked out.

  When I got in my car, I started shaking. My heart was pounding so hard I felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. I was paralyzed. I couldn’t move. I worried if I started the car, I might drive it off a cliff. I just sat there, gripping the steering wheel, resting my head on the thin, hard rubber waiting for my breathing to calm down. Finally, after a few minutes, ironically thinking back to the way Brad had counseled me the last time I hyperventilated, I felt my heart beat slow and my breath return to normal. I leaned back and just as I was about to turn the key, a knock on my window made me jump.

  “Jesus!” I screamed. I rolled down the window. “What?!”

  “I’m in no shape to drive.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “I called a cab, but when I came out here to wait, I saw you still here.”

  “And you saw that as a sign?” I asked sarcastically and he smiled.

  “That and a free ride.” I was about to say something but he continued. “And a chance to apologize.”

  “We’re better when we don’t talk.” I pleaded.

  “Don’t you even want to try?”

  “Try what?”

  “Something new.”

  “You have no idea.” It was scary how those two words hit so close to home.

  “Then tell me.”

  “I don’t know how to.”

  “I don’t either.”

  I laughed. “That’s becoming painfully clear.”

  “Come on, Steph. What do you have to lose?” He sounded so pained.

  Such a simple question. I had seen my mom lose herself over and over in the men she dated. Each time she hoped they’d complete her, fill whatever void it was in her that only men validated. It wasn’t just that. I knew I wasn’t my mother, though I had her genes and was obviously still terrified that nature or nurture would take over. It was also that emotionally, I was already stretched so thin taking care of her, I just didn’t have anything left to give to anyone else. Plus, I was still so insecure that it was hard to believe that he wanted to try with me, much as I was starting to realize that I desperately wanted someone to, I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be.

  So I had a simple answer to his simple question.

  “Me.”

  Thankfully, the cab pulled up at that moment and he had a choice to make, not that I could trust that he’d make the right one, so I chose. Much as part of me wanted to be with him, even after this awful evening, I knew I shouldn’t.

  “Take the cab, Brad. Please.”

  He nodded and the corners of his mouth raised ever so slightly. “Ok, Stephanie.” Then the fucker leaned in and gave me the sweetest, most tender goodbye kiss I’d ever felt. When he pulled his head back, he gave me that slight smile again, knowing full well what he was doing as he turned around and left in the waiting taxi.

  ****

  I wasn’t going to be my mother. I wasn’t going to pine over a man. I’d spent so many years doing everything and anything, and anyone, to ensure that I wouldn’t do that, and now, here I was, sitting at my desk trying to focus on all the work I had, yet my mind kept drifting back to Brad.

  “Morning, Steph.” Marty greeted me breaking me out of my thoughts, holding two coffees, two pastry bags and smiling. My eyes went from his dimple to the coffee and back to the dimple.

  It had been a while since Marty had brought me coffee. He had respected my wishes and hadn’t pushed with asking about my mom or me and I hated to admit just how much I missed it.

  “Morning, Marty.” I smiled and stifled a yawn. “Sorry.”

  “That’s what caffeine’s for. Looks like I was just in time.” He came all the way into my office and set down the coffee. “Bagel or scone?”

  I took a long sip of the coffee and closed my eyes as I felt the hot liquid go all the way down. “Mmmm, thank you for this. And, I’m good with just the coffee.”

  “Stephanie.” He warned.

  “Marty.” I smiled trying to deflect.

  “You have a choice.” He said sternly and my expression must have made it clear that I didn’t get his joke. “Whoa, Steph, I just meant bagel or scone. That choice.”

  “Oh!”

  “Look, I know you don’t want to hear this, and I’ve tried to respect your wishes and not push, but I can’t just stand by and watch you disintegrate into nothing.”

  “You think that’s what’s happening to me?” I was both touched and offended. “Aren’t I delivering? The work’s getting done, and I thought you were happy with it.”

  “I’m not talking about you delivering on the damn accounts!” I hadn’t yet been on the receiving end of Marty raising his voice, not that he typically did. I think I must have visibly shuddered because he immediately softened.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. I’m just concerned, that’s all.” I tried to jump in but he continued. “And you’re not like most of the rest of the people here who take advantage of my open door policy. If anything, you avoid it.”

  In all the years that I had hoped for someone to see the real me, to call me on my shit, I was starting to realize that Marty was doing just that. I wondered if this was one of those ‘be careful what you wish for’ instances. It felt so nice that he cared and that he saw through my flimsy excuses. But, Marty was my boss, and part of the new me was making sure that I didn’t shit where I lived.

  “Marty, I appreciate your concern, truly. You have no idea how much it means to me. And the flexibility you’ve given me so that I can take care of my mom, I’m not sure what I’d do if I weren’t able to take her to all of her appointments.”

  “But?”

  “But it just doesn’t feel right coming in and pouring my heart out to my boss, that’s all. Please don’t take it personally. I’m not thumbing my nose at your concern. I, I just have to keep work and personal separate. I get it that a lot of people don’t. But for me, well, I do.”

  Marty nodded and seemed to take it all in. “I respect that, I do. But you hold back. You hold a lot in. And if you ever want to get it out, a shoulder to cry on, a s
ounding board, I’m here. That’s all.”

  “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but why do you keep pushing? How are you so sure that there’s something there, that I need to talk?”

  He took a long pause while he looked down at the floor and when he finally did look back up, he had tears in his eyes.

  “You remind me of someone I used to know. And I didn’t push with her. And now I don’t have the chance to. So, indulge me a bit.” This time, it was Marty who seemed fragile. He left the bag on my desk, gave me a sad smile and then turned around to leave.

  I was surprised I didn’t lose it right then and there, but from somewhere deep, I kept it together, smiled and thanked him. Once he walked out, I got up, quietly closed the door and then came back to my desk and wept. I tried to cry silently knowing how porous the venting system was, but there were a few hitches and then my nose blowing that I’m sure Marty heard. I didn’t want him to hear me crying. I didn’t want him to think I was weak. And at the same time, I desperately wanted him to open the door, pick me up and hold me in a tight hug telling me everything would be ok even when I knew it wouldn’t.

  ****

  From practically my first day working for Marty, he’d been nothing but supportive. I wasn’t yet ready to lean on him the way he suggested, but I’d been so caught up in my own shit that this was the first time I realized that perhaps he could use someone to lean on too. The next morning, as usual, I got to work before anyone, and this time after Marty and I wished each other good morning, he went into his office and a moment later came back to mine, grinning from ear to ear holding the coffee I’d left on his desk.

  “I went with the old standby of an everything bagel, but if you want the scone, I haven’t taken a bite yet.”

  He just kept smiling as he leaned against the doorjamb. After a long sip of coffee he looked down at the scone and said, “Tell you what. Let’s mix things up. This might be a little radical for you,” he paused and raised his eyebrows as if he was about to challenge me. “But how about we split them. Best of both worlds.”

  “Whoa, Marty, that is radical!”

  “That’s me, ‘Radical Marty’.”

  “Totally Rad Marty. I bet that’s what they called you in the 80s.” I teased and motioned for him to sit down. He furrowed his brows skeptically.

  “So, why the sudden about face?” He asked as he bit into his half of the bagel and cream cheese leaving a tiny dollop on his top lip.

  “Um, you’ve got…” I pointed to my lip and he smiled before he licked it off. Seeing him do that made me blush. I hoped he didn’t notice and I quickly took a sip of coffee with the hopes of hiding my face.

  “Better?”

  I nodded as I picked at my scone. I wasn’t sure this was the best idea, inviting him to sit down and chat, but he was already there and after the day before I wasn’t going to kick him out.

  “You’re supposed to actually eat it, Steph, not just make crumbs out of it.”

  “Has anyone ever accused you of being a Jewish mother?” I asked as I shoved a huge piece that was way too big into my mouth just to make a point. I started trying to chew it, but the scone was so damn dry and it was such a gigantic piece that I started to laugh and cough as I tried to chew. As Marty watched he started laughing, and the more I tried to get it down, the more we both were laughing, and I knew this piece of scone wasn’t going to be going down my throat but coming back out. It was just a matter of whether it came out my mouth or my nose or both. He was cracking up and I finally leaned over the trash can and spit it out.

  Totally and completely mortified I raised back up and grabbed a napkin. Marty was still laughing.

  “See what you get for accusing me of being a Jewish mother!”

  “Oh my God, I’m so embarrassed!”

  “Don’t be, I haven’t laughed that hard in a long time.”

  “Well I’m glad I could be of service!”

  “We should just call it a day now. It’s definitely not going to get better than this.”

  “Yeah, let’s spend the day finding more food I can spit up.”

  He motioned like he was leaving, taking me up on my offer.

  “I’m kidding! That’s gross! Plus, if I blow off my work, my boss would probably be pretty pissed off.”

  “If you blew off anything, your boss would be completely and utterly shocked. You’re easily the most responsible employee I’ve ever had.”

  I had just taken a sip of coffee and almost spit it out when I heard that, which just got him laughing all over again. The more he laughed, the harder I fought to keep it down until finally I leaned over and spit it into my trashcan.

  “Now I know why you’re so skinny. You have an eating disorder!”

  We both laughed more. It was so nice and free sitting there with him. For that brief moment, things felt light.

  “I can’t remember the last time I laughed that hard either. That felt good. Though now you know my secret.” I teased.

  “I highly doubt that.” He said, completely serious.

  Just like that, the mood changed. I wiped my mouth and looked at my computer screen to avoid looking at him.

  “Hey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring you down.”

  “You didn’t. Just back to reality, that’s all. No worries.”

  “Ok, but you didn’t answer my question. Why the coffee and the chat?” Marty wasn’t going to let it go.

  My instinct was to deflect, but it wasn’t about me this time.

  “Pretty sure it was my turn to buy coffee… and I wanted to return the favor and…” I paused, smiled slightly and held his gaze. “And you made me realize yesterday that you might need a shoulder or sounding board sometimes.” I bit my lip and looked at my computer screen. I wasn’t sure why that felt so personal, but it did. I needed something to hide behind.

  “I’m touched, Steph.” He said sincerely.

  “By the coffee I spit at you?” I tried to make light of it.

  “I’m serious. It means a lot. I know how much you have on your plate. Coming from you… well, thank you.” As he said that he patted his heart. We sat there for a beat and then, I knew if I asked the next question, it could change things, but they were already changing.

  “Can I ask you a question, Marty?” He must have known by my tone that it was serious.

  “Of course.”

  “What happened with the girl you didn’t push? You said you didn’t have the chance to now. Why not?”

  Marty looked like he got the wind knocked out of him. His entire demeanor changed. I was going to apologize but before I could, he cleared his throat and spoke up.

  “She killed herself.” He said softly. “I should have pushed, but I didn’t, for a lot of reasons. But all that matters is that I didn’t.” He paused but he didn’t take his eyes off of me and it was clear he had more to say. I could feel the tears welling up but I didn’t dare move. “Not all of us get a second chance. Some of us only get one. I can’t change what happened, so all I can do is try not to repeat it.”

  I nodded and swallowed as I tried to blink back my tears.

  He pressed his lips together in a semi-smile. “Now I really think we should blow off the rest of the day.”

  “I’m so sorry for asking. I didn’t mean to pry or open up old wounds.”

  “Don’t be. I put it out there. And there are some wounds that just never seem to heal. Know what I mean?” I nodded. “I think maybe they’re there as reminders to us.”

  “I think you’re right.”

  He got up and raised his coffee. “Thank you again for this and for spitting your food all over the place.” He smiled big enough so that his dimple appeared.

  “I’m sure the cleaning people are going to be thrilled.”

  “Well, you made my morning.”

  I couldn’t hide my blush this time as I sat there and grinned like an idiot.

  CHAPTER 13

  My father wasn’t a bad man. He never hit me or abused me e
motionally. He was just never there. Physically, he was, but he was never involved in my life. Ever. He didn’t come to one soccer game in the over 10 years that I played. He didn’t once help me with homework. I never sought his advice. In fact, he didn’t participate in anything as far as I could remember. Perhaps it was because my bond with Barb was so great that he couldn’t possibly compete. Now that I had the perspective as an adult, I think a lot of it was that he just didn’t have it to give. He was the embodiment of the phrase ‘you can’t get blood from a stone’. It wasn’t the stone’s fault. It simply didn’t have any blood. My father simply had no interest, no passion in my life or really, in anything. I had always blamed my mom for so much of why I never sought anything other than sex from men. Perhaps my father was a little to blame, too.

  In the short time that I’d worked at Blank Slate, Marty knew more about who I was as a person than my own father did. Marty’s gentle, and sometimes not-so-gentle prodding of me was foreign on so many levels. His care and interest were genuine. He was the first person that wanted to know about me. I’d never thought men really cared about what women said or thought or felt. My dad didn’t care about what my mom or I did. The men my mom was with couldn’t have cared less about her, no matter how much she threw herself at them. And the men I’d been with, well, I never gave them the chance to care.

  I still couldn’t quite figure Marty out. He was paternalistic and avuncular with everyone, and maybe it was only because we had our mornings together that I thought it was somehow special with me. But what I was feeling for Marty wasn’t just cared for, though that was an emotion that was new to me. I would have been lying to myself if I didn’t admit attraction for him. It wasn’t like what I felt with Brad, not that I had any idea really what that was, but whatever that was felt raw. With Marty, I felt safe.

  Yet as flawed as Brad was, there was no denying the attraction or what I felt when we were together. I understood what he meant when he said that when we were together, he forgot. In those moments with him, I wasn’t anywhere else. Except of course our horribly failed attempt at dinner when we talked about real things. And then I wanted to be anywhere but with him. Even then, I couldn’t deny the passion with Brad. I may have wanted to, but whatever that pull was, I couldn’t pretend it didn’t exist.