But I didn’t know what would happen next. Was it over? Were we over? Did it have to be all or nothing?
I didn’t know these rules. I knew men, but I didn’t know what happened when people were invested. This was beyond me.
I didn’t talk to Oscar for three days. No texts, no calls, no contact of any kind. In the past few weeks, we’d chatted almost every day. Sometimes it was a quick call to confirm what train I was on. Sometimes it was a stolen moment to tell him about something funny that had happened at work. Sometimes he’d call right before he went to sleep. And though he didn’t use flowery words, when he said, “Sweet dreams, Pinup,” it was better than almost anything.
When I woke up Thursday morning still with no call or text, I felt . . . alone. Really alone.
I was usually surrounded by laughing, smiling, chatting people—at work, after-work cocktails, nights out on the town, weekends filled with brunches and lunches and clubs and parties. And this week had been no exception. I’d worked my ass off, spent time with friends I hadn’t seen in weeks, and kept my social calendar full.
So why was I feeling so alone?
No Oscar.
And I didn’t like it one bit.
Thursday afternoon I bit the bullet and called him myself, no longer waiting for his call.
“Hey,” was his answer when he picked up.
“Hey to you,” I said, my voice already tense. “How’ve you been?”
“Good. Busy but good. You?”
“Good,” I said, twisting a lock of hair around my finger. “I haven’t heard from you once this week.”
He sighed. “I haven’t heard from you, either.” He had a point. “I was meaning to call, it’s just been—”
“Busy, I know. I’ve been busy, too.”
More silence. I’d never felt the need to fill the silence before, but this felt awful. “I got a rough cut of the first Bailey Falls commercial; it’s looking pretty good. Still needs a lot of work and the music will be different, but it’s going in the right direction.”
“That’s great,” he said softly.
“Yeah. I can show you this weekend, if you want. You can get the gist of it from—”
“This weekend?”
“Well, yeah. I mean, I figured I’d see you,” I replied, my voice getting higher than I would have liked it. “At the market, at least.”
“I won’t be there this weekend.”
“You’re not coming to the market?” I asked, disbelieving.
“Now that it’s winter we only come in once a month, and we’re not scheduled again until after Thanksgiving.”
“Oh,” I whispered, my finger twisting in my hair so hard it was starting to hurt. “So, when will I see you?”
“It’s a busy time right now, even though it seems like it would slow down when winter comes. I’ve got repairs I put off all summer; the cows are getting ready to come indoors for longer than they’re used to, and lots of prep needs to happen for that; it’s just—”
“Busy.” I deliberately lightened my tone. “Yeah, I’ve got tons of work blowing up, too. I’ve got some new campaigns I’ll be working on soon, with the Bailey Falls job winding down. Yeah. Lots to do.”
“Yeah,” he said. He sounded a little . . . sad? “Anyway, I’ve got to go to football practice now. The kids have been winning all their games, and now’s the time to put a little more pressure on them so they don’t slack off.”
“Oh, sure. Well—”
“Talk to you later, Natalie,” he said, and hung up.
I had chosen this. I had made this decision. I couldn’t be the woman he needed. He needed a muffin maker, a clothes washer, an all-in kind of girl who would be willing to give up a part of herself to be there for him. I could not, would not, do that.
Willing myself not to cry, I flicked on the fan in the corner, drying my eyeballs until I could go back to work.
I talked to Oscar two more times that week, twice the week after that, and then it was an entire week before I spoke to him again. Not once did he mention trying to get together.
When I talked to Roxie one night, she told me he was crankier than ever, barely speaking when he was in town.
That’s how it goes, I suppose.
I worked back into my routine; well, part of my routine. I didn’t go out nearly as much, but that was okay. I couldn’t conceive of meeting anyone new. Flirting with a guy seemed unappealing at best, gross at worst, and the last thing I wanted was to pick up a random guy. I worked a lot. I talked to Roxie, I talked to Clara, and I spent more and more of the weekend at my parents’, needing some familiarity while I worked myself over.
Did I make the right decision? Could I have considered, just considered, the idea of trying to make things work with Oscar?
“You sure as hell could have tried,” a voice said, and I blinked, confused.
“Huh?” I turned around on my perch in the window to see my mother standing there, holding a teacup.
“Should you have considered the idea of making things work with Oscar? Yes. The answer to that is yes.” She shook her head at me, handing me the cup. “Drink this. It’s green tea, you need the antioxidants.”
“Sorry, I didn’t know I—”
“Said it out loud? You did; you’ve always said things out loud when you’re working yourself over.”
“I do?” I’d never heard this before.
“Sure; your father’s the same way. When he’s in a pickle, he poses questions to the wall sometimes, trying to work his head around a problem. Me, I just throw some paint at a canvas and work it out that way.”
I sipped at the tea. It was December, and I was spending a Saturday night at my parents’, watching the first snow fall outside on Perry Street.
Saturday night with my parents. How the mighty have fallen.
“He wanted me to think about moving.”
“I figured.”
“To Bailey Falls.”
“I figured.”
“To the country, Ma.”
“I know where Bailey Falls is. The question is, do you want to go?”
“And sacrifice my career and life for a man? You always told me that was the worst thing a woman could do.”
“Wrong.”
I exploded from my chair. “What? Are you trying to make me crazy?”
“I think you’re halfway there already, dear daughter. Now drink your tea and listen to me.”
I sat.
“I always told you that the worst thing a woman could do was sacrifice her career for a man—”
“Exactly.”
“—but I don’t think you’d have to sacrifice your career to have this man.”
“He’s got cows.”
“Sure, and they’re just ninety minutes from where you’re sitting right now. You don’t think you can make it work when you’re only ninety minutes from the man you love?”
“The man I love, I—” I sputtered.
She laid a hand on my knee, patting gently. “Now listen up good, Natalie. You’ve been in love once in your life.”
“And we know how that ended.”
She shook her head. “You were never really in love with Thomas. You thought you loved him, because back then you thought you were unlovable. And a good-looking man came along, saw a possible weakness, and he preyed on that and on you. I don’t blame you for thinking you were in love with him, but I’m here to tell you that it wasn’t love. What you feel for Oscar is the real thing.”
“But I can’t give up my job! I love my job!”
“And you’re great at it. You know that, and the people at MCG know it, too. You don’t think they’d work with you if you wanted to work from a home office a few days a week? And maybe Oscar could spend some time in the city every now and again?”
My heart started racing. I could see the possibilities, the maybes. “But wouldn’t I be sacrificing too much for someone else?”
“Do you love him?”
Oh sweet Christ on a cracker, I think I really do.
Now I just had to find out if he still loved me.