ON FRIDAY MORNING Evan buried himself in his work, but the waiting was eating him up inside. He’d left another Chanukah gift on Shari’s desk, but she hadn’t called or texted to acknowledge it. They hadn’t had any contact since their argument yesterday morning, and he’d burned over it for the rest of the day. This morning he hoped it’d be a clean slate, that she’d at least like the gift enough to contact him, and that he could apologize properly.
He’d gone on the offensive and jabbed at her, and she pushed right back. Hello, two fierce attorneys— of course the arguments were going to be like fireworks. But over the course of the day, he thought about the things she’d said. And had to admit . . . he saw her point. He understood what she was saying.
The thing was, he didn’t want it to end. He wanted her for the long term. Possibly even something . . . yes, something as permanent as marriage, who knew? But they had to get back into a good groove and back into their relationship to get to that point. Being apart wasn’t helping the situation. They had to be together to map out the landscape ahead.
Goddammit, he missed her so much.
At ten o’clock Evan’s phone dinged and he looked at the text. Just saying good-bye, Shari had written. Going back to Philly now.
What? She’d left already? He typed quickly, Wait, what?? I thought you weren’t going down until later in the afternoon? I wanted to see you here at the office before you went.
Changed my mind, she responded. Took the whole day instead of a half day. On the train now.
He swore under his breath and typed, You already left??
Yes. Should be at my parents’ place by one. So . . . have a nice weekend. Added another day—won’t be back til Monday night.
Evan stared at his phone, a wave of helplessness and angst washing over him. I wish you weren’t going, he wrote. Yesterday I thought about a lot of things, and I really wanted to talk to you about them.
I’m already gone, she wrote back.
Her choice of words filled him with dread that prickled over his skin and a steely edge of frustration. I’m already gone. He’d blown it. That was it. The fight yesterday had pushed her even further away. He knew she was angry, but what if this was a way of putting more space between them so . . . so she could come back and end it for good? Didn’t she know how much he wanted her, loved her? Had he pushed her that far? His stomach churned and his pulse raced. He felt like throwing his phone out the damn window. All he wrote was I love you, Shari. With all my heart. Enjoy the weekend. See you when you get back.
She didn’t respond. After two minutes he set down the phone, raked his hands through his hair, and dropped his head into his hands.
A FEW HOURS later, at the end of a long, tiring day, Evan made a call and waited as the phone rang two, three times. Finally he heard his grandmother’s voice. “Hello?”
“Hi Bubby, it’s Evan.”
“Ah! How nice.” Rose sounded delighted. “How are you, boychik?”
He smiled, warming to her familiar greeting. “I’m fine, beautiful. How are you?”
“I’m fine, too,” Rose said. “Just took a little nap. Going to go downstairs to play some mahjong with some of the other ladies in half an hour.”
“Sounds like a party.”
Rose let out a crackly cackle. “Not so much, but I like it. Anyway. Why’d you call, just to say hello?”
“Yup. That, and I heard you think I’m going to die all alone.” Evan grabbed a nearby pen and started doodling circles on the edge of a legal pad. “Wanted to tell you not to worry about me.”
“I can’t help it, I’m a Jewish grandma,” Rose said. “Worrying is in the DNA.”
He snorted out a laugh at that.
“How’s Shari?” she asked.
“She’s . . . she’s fine, Bubby,” he lied.
“Oh good. I really like her, Evan.”
“I know. You told me. Several times. And I’m glad.”
Rose coughed lightly, then said, “You seemed a little cranky when you left the other night. I hoped it was just because everyone was nudging you, not because of her.”
“You know me so well,” he said. “You were right. I was annoyed that everyone was nudging me.”
“I thought you were a hotshot attorney,” his grandmother said. “Thought you had thicker skin than that!”
“Usually I do. But not about that,” he admitted.
“What, getting married?” Rose let out a puff of air, a dismissive sound. “You don’t wanna get married, don’t get married. But you know what? I think you’re just scared.”
“You’re not the first person to suggest that,” Evan said.
“Well then, maybe we’re all on to something.” Rose coughed again. “Hold on, I need a drink of water.” He heard her put the phone down, probably on her mattress. Less than a minute later she was back. “Why are you scared of marriage? Have you asked yourself that? I’m serious.”
“I’m not . . .” He paused. He was going to say he wasn’t scared of marriage, but maybe that wasn’t true after all. “You should hear some of my clients, Bubby. The stories they tell me . . . they’re horror shows. These people are so miserable, or angry, or bitter, or just heart-wrenchingly sad. They cry in front of me. They curse the person they used to love the most. It’s not pretty.”
“Life isn’t pretty,” Rose said without hesitation. “Real life is messy. And ugly sometimes, too. Pardon my French, but shit happens, boychik.”
Evan barked out a laugh. “That’s the Rose Sonntag I know and love.”
“It’s true!” she said. “But, as you go along in life, you hope the pretty things outweigh the ugly things. And you know what? Having someone to share the ugly times with, as well as the pretty ones? Is what makes it worthwhile.”
“Bubby, that’s a beautiful statement. But I’m—”
“Scared!” she said. “You’re scared. You love Shari?”
“Very much,” he said soberly. “More than I realized.”
“Think she’d be good marriage material?” Rose continued.
“I . . . yeah, probably.”
“Stop beating around the bush!” his grandmother commanded. “Yes or no?”
Evan was glad she wasn’t there to see the smile he couldn’t hide. “Yes. Yes.”
“Okay then. You think she wants to marry you?”
“I . . . I don’t know.”
“Well, maybe it’s something you two should talk about,” Rose suggested. “Don’t you think? C’mon, smart guy. Use your head.”
“Okay, okay,” he said with a chuckle.
“Okay then.” Rose cleared her throat. “It’s so damn dry in this place once they turn up the heat. I’m drinking water like I’m crossing the desert or something, it’s ridiculous.”
Evan smiled. “I love you, lady.”
“I love you, too, boychik. So work is good? Everything else is good?”
“Yup. All is well. Just busy.”
“Busy, huh? That’s too bad,” Rose quipped. “Hate when your business is booming. You coming home again anytime soon?”
“Maybe between Christmas and New Year’s for a dinner. We’ll see.”
“Okay then.”
Evan hesitated, about to say good-bye, but he changed his mind. “Bubby, can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” she said.
“How . . .” He fumbled to get the words out. The soft, circular doodles turned into hard, choppy lines. “How did you know Pa was the right one? How did you know it would work out?”
“I didn’t!” she proclaimed. “None of us know for sure if it’ll work out! You think we’re all psychic or something? You take a chance, you hope, you try. Because the alternative? Can lead to a pretty lonely life.”
Her words settled into him like little balls of light, opening his eyes to something that seemed so obvious but was new to him.
“I’ll tell you a secret.” She cleared her throat again. “The night before our wedding, I could barely sleep. It was from excitement, sure, but it was also more like nerves. I got cold feet. I tossed and turned all night. I thought about calling it off.”
Evan listened attentively. He’d never heard this story before.
“In the morning, I was so tired, and even more nervous. I was just a girl, you know. Nineteen years old! Could you imagine getting married when you were nineteen, Evan?”
“No flippin’ way,” he said.
“Right! Anyway . . . where was I . . .” Her voice trailed off. “Oh! Okay. The next morning, I was still jittery. Thinking about finding the nearest exit. Until I saw your grandfather.” She sighed, almost dreamily. “He looked so handsome, and was smiling at me like I was the most beautiful, wonderful girl in the world. Like he’d never been happier to see anyone in his life.” The tone of Rose’s voice, so sentimental as she recalled the memory, made Evan’s heart squeeze for her.
“And you got over the jitters and married him,” he surmised gently.
“Well, yes, of course,” she said. “But! I married him without the jitters. You know why?”
“Nope.”
“Because I looked at him,” Rose said, “and I thought, ‘Okay, I’m scared of getting married. I’m scared of what if this doesn’t work out? But the thought of not marrying him, not having him with me for the rest of my life, is a million times scarier.’ Once I realized that, the cold feet were gone. Presto.”
The words slammed Evan like punches to the gut. She was so right.
Yes, marriage scared him. Well, if he was being honest with himself, it wasn’t the idea of marriage itself, but of a marriage failing. That scared him a lot. But losing Shari scared him more. The bottom line was, he didn’t want a life without her by his side. He loved her that much. She was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and in a short time he’d hurt her enough to make her question everything. He had to make it right. He had to have her in his life, with him. In his arms, in his bed, in his home, in his travels, in every way that mattered. She was that important to him. That made taking a tremendous risk, a leap of faith, worth it. Love like theirs was worth that risk.
The realization hit him like an iron fist, and he sat up straighter in his chair. “Thanks for telling me that story, Bubby. Really. You’re amazing. I have to go back to work now, though, okay?”
“Sure, okay,” Rose said. “It was nice of you to call. You’re a good grandson. I love you very much, boychik.”
Even though he was a thirty-three-year-old man, her affection still warmed him. He figured you never outgrew hearing your loved ones remind you they loved you, especially from someone as special and wonderful as his grandmother. “I love you very much, too, Bubby. Happy Chanukah.”
“Your mom and dad are taking me out tomorrow,” she said. “We’re going to the deli for lunch, and then we’ll see a movie. Do you and Shari have a little something special planned this weekend?”
“Actually, I’m planning something very special. As we speak.” Movement from the corner of his eye made Evan turn to look out the window. It had started to snow. The white crystalline flakes were visible against the now navy sky, softly flurrying on the wind. An idea burst into his head. “Gotta go now. ’Bye, beautiful.”
“Ha! Charmer.” Rose’s crackly laugh made him smile. “ ’Bye to you, too.”
Evan ended the call, put his hands on the keyboard and started to search the Internet as a plan unfurled in his mind. Time for a grand gesture. Shari loved the sweeping romance of her favorite books and TV shows . . . he could pull off a little romantic something of his own. She was worth it, and desperate times called for desperate measures. Somehow, he had to make Shari see how much he loved her and wanted to be with her.
And if he couldn’t make her see that, after all he’d done that week, and especially what he was about to do . . . then they probably really were done.
The drive and determination that had gotten him through his life kicked in with a vengeance. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let that happen. If it was ever time to pull out all the stops, this was it.