“YOU WANT TO tell us what that’s all about?” Leo grins at me as he takes a sip of his beer, the smug jerk. I roll my eyes at him as I settle into my chair across from Nathan Cho, a science teacher from a neighboring district. The two of them do not look like they want to debrief about the training we just attended regarding online alternatives to dissection for students who conscientiously object.
“The blonde doesn’t look like a teacher,” Nathan says.
I frown at him. “‘The blonde’ is the founder and CEO of Vinea.” I practically grunt my defense of Samantha.
“No shit?”
Leo nods and elbows Nathan. “She dropped by the school the other day to apologize to AJ about some misunderstanding. Because he didn’t call her back.”
“Ooh, she called you? Dude, why wouldn’t you lock that down?”
I take a long swig of my beer, draining it, and I set it on the table with a little too much strength.
Leo scratches at his chin. “I bet this is about Lara.” He turns toward Nathan. “AJ’s witch of an ex. She fucked him up in the head.”
I don’t even like hearing her name, and I resent having my almost-fiancee brought to my consciousness. Maybe it’s not fair to even think of her as my almost-fiancee, since she was pretty clear our future together was all a figment of my imagination. How could you honestly think I’d marry someone like you, Adriel?
Shame and embarrassment wrestle for dominance in my guts and I shift in my seat uncomfortably at the memory. Eventually, I realize Leo and Nathan are staring at me with slightly softer expressions. “Hey,” Leo says. “It’s been like two years. You gotta at least go have your rebound fling.”
Nathan taps his beer bottle with his wedding ring. “I’ve been out of the game a long time, but I’m pretty sure it’s not even a rebound at this point.” He and Leo turn around to stare at the back of Samantha’s head as she talks to the bar owner, who apparently actually is her friend.
“Quit staring at her. Come on!”
They slide back around in their seats. Nathan sets his empty drink on the table and rises to his feet, stretching. “Well this has been invigorating,” he says. “But I have to get home to the other Mr. Cho.” He shakes open his jacket and slides it on. “Don’t let the tech lady wait too long. You’ve got her number? Use it.” He whistles as he walks out of the bar and Leo nods enthusiastically.
“What he said, man. Come on. It’s like fate, her following you to school and then showing up here. This city isn’t that small.”
I start to cycle through all the excuses I give my parents and my Bubbie for why I haven’t been dating since my love life exploded, landing on, “She’s not even Jewish, Leo.”
He seems to consider this for a beat and then shrugs. “Well, Lara was a nice Jewish girl, right? That didn’t work out so well for you.” I wince. He holds up a hand. “I’m not trying to be harsh, AJ. It’s just that it seems like you’re working awfully hard to come up with a reason not to dabble in some romance.”
“Dabble in some romance? Where do you even come from? And besides, that woman is insufferable.”
He leans forward, pinning me with a dark, mischievous grin. “I’ll tell you what. Either you try to make something happen or I’m going to go full Italian Stallion and see if she’s looking for a good time.”
“Leo! God, can you not objectify every woman we encounter?”
He chuckles and runs a hand through his dark hair. “She’s a beautiful woman, AJ. I’m a single man. We already know she’s smart. I can think of worse ways to spend an evening than taking her out for dinner.”
At his mention of worse evenings, I try to suppress the dread I feel each day after school when I return to my apartment, which I’ve still not rearranged after Lara left. Every evening is a reminder of what I no longer have, what I never really had to begin with. Sparse furniture, only a few mismatched dishes. What once seemed minimalist and fiscally responsible, I now see through Lara’s perspective. My evenings are austere, below society’s expectations. Subpar. Women like Lara expect a certain lifestyle, and that lifestyle is not compatible with the public school teacher whose parents chose lives of service rather than riches and glamor.
My family has money—old money, Lara would say. There are entire wings of medical schools named for the Trachtenbergs. My parents bucked the trend to open a neighborhood clinic, and supported me when I switched my major from pre-med to science education. My college girlfriend on the other hand…Lara thought my interest in teaching was a phase I’d outgrow.
I’m not going to get burned a second time. Samantha Vine is like a blonde, waspy version of Lara, all smiles and friendly speeches…until she realizes there’s no significant nest egg, there’s not going to be a luxury car, and there won’t be a restored Victorian in the east end of the city, let alone a McMansion in the suburbs. Leo and I stare at the back of Samantha’s head. “She’s out of my league, man,” I say to Leo, shoving the table away from me as I rise to leave.
Leo reaches for my wrist and looks me in the eye. “I keep telling you, AJ. You’ve got it wrong. You are out of Lara’s league. And Madam CEO over there would be lucky to have a guy like you.”
I shake my head and yank my hand free from his grasp, leaving the bar without looking back. I find my car and, even though it’s out of the way, I drive through my childhood neighborhood. Someone is setting off firecrackers, as per usual on nights when it doesn’t rain. I pass the small building that houses my parents’ medical clinic, looking shabby and stucco as it always has.
I think often of my father, who earned his medical degree at Vanderbilt and chose a family health practice in a clinic that supports patients with limited resources. He found my mother, a woman who also values making a difference over making a fortune. It’s super cliched that she’s the nurse in his clinic, but the two of them love their life together.
They’re out there every day, diagnosing diabetes in the “pre” stage and curing people of chlamydia and all I ever wanted to be was just like them. Someone like you, Lara said the night she upended my life.
I cross from Greenfield into my new home in the Squirrel Hill neighborhood, where I can walk to both my grandmother’s condo and our synagogue for services. I thought moving to a neighborhood with a larger Jewish population would be a concession for Lara, where we’d do great and humble things but live among the wealthy peers Lara values so deeply.
Someone like you.
I snort at the memory and growl, “Never again!” I squeeze my Honda into a tight spot outside my building and head inside, determined to keep Samantha Vine out of my thoughts.