"Natalie East speaking."
"Natalie, dear, it's Marisa. How are you?"
She walked out to her balcony so she could watch the trees sway in the pre-storm wind while they chatted about her new job and current events. Evan's mom didn't let the small talk go on long before orchestrating the conversation.
"Your mother told me about Chris's return."
Of course she did. Nat was going to have to work diligently to leave bitterness in the past when she and Elaine were at the Oneg celebrating a sweet new year. "Is there any chance she didn't mention his proposal?"
Marisa chuckled. "None at all. But she didn't tell me how you reacted."
That was something. She could just imagine her mom's overinflated tales of Chris on bended knee, catching her as she swooned into his arms, tenderly drying her tears. "For the most part, I didn't react. Except to tell him to leave. No matter what Elaine thinks, I'm not eager to forgive and forget three years of lies. False pretenses. Whatever he calls it."
"Well, of course you're not. You were right to send him packing. Just because my son didn't take your relationship seriously, you can't stop looking for a partner who's right for you. Someone not so capricious. You shouldn't settle for the likes of Chris."
Danger, danger, she warned herself. She and Evan had agreed to tell their families that they were looking for different things in life. If that message had translated to Marisa as her wanting to settle down--if not to settle--she should swallow it and move on. But it was one thing to set aside details about what had really happened between her and Evan. It was another thing entirely to bite her tongue about the way his family characterized him.
"Marisa, I know how much you love Evan."
She must not have sounded as well-disposed to him as she'd thought, because Marisa jumped in to say, "Oh, don't tell me anything terrible."
"I'm not."
"That's not fair, I suppose, and a mother should be realistic about her children, but I don't mean I believe he could have been truly terrible. Of course I don't. He's a wonderful boy, my Evan. But he plays the irresponsible baby of the family a bit too much, and not just with us. And I hope you escaped being hurt by that. I know he cares too much for you to have wanted you hurt."
Natalie turned and leaned against the railing, looking through the French doors at the king-sized bed where she and Evan had spent so many invigorating nights. It seemed large and lonely. She had clenched her jaw while Marisa had her say, and she tilted back her neck to force her muscles to relax.
"You're right, it's not fair. The last thing you could call Evan is irresponsible. I'm an only child, so I don't know how to change the dynamic with adult siblings, but I wish you'd all take an honest look at Evan as he is now, without the lens of whatever he was like as a little kid. Give him a break. Recognize how much he's accomplished. He's barely into his thirties, and you saw his office. You must have seen how many hours he worked and studied and focused to get to his position. And I don't mean just you, I mean all the family. Don't you know how important your opinion of him is to him? Don't you see how much thought he puts into what you call casual charm? He wants to please every last Lee. If it means working hundred hour weeks until he's got a window office on the nineteenth floor, that's what he does. If it means isolating himself at the grandkid table with puns and balloon animals because his brothers and sisters want to talk uninterrupted and his nieces and nephews want attention, that's what he does. If it means dating some random woman you and Koray met in Turkey, that's what he does.
"And that's what's unfair. Because I bet you all love him, and value him, and even respect him. But you don't treat him like he can make his own decisions. Look at this whole mess with me. From the start, we were in an impossible position. Dating me made you happy, but made his siblings tease and trivialize him. Because of my stupid hair, or because he was letting you play matchmaker, or just because they treat his emotions like a joke. And even when some of them accepted me, accepted us, it was never going to be unanimous. Or unanimous against me, either one. Which left him unable to please everyone, no matter what he did, and then what was he going to do with all that charm?"
She stopped and wiped at her eyes. It seemed like the storm at her back was straining at its leash, ready to rampage across the neighborhood. Blowing out a breath, she went on more softly, "Marisa, you mean the world to Evan. He knows you and Koray and all of you love him. And this is none of my business, and I'm sorry if I've offended you. Or angered you. Please think about it, about being the example to show your family you trust Evan to make good, smart, responsible choices, and you respect him even if you disagree with him. Invite him up from the kids' table."
Marisa didn't speak. Natalie was swallowing down her disappointment when Koray said, "I didn't mean to eavesdrop. You were on speaker and I came into the kitchen."
In the translucent reflection of the window, she saw her face redden. "Oh. Hi, Koray."
"Hello, my sweet and intelligent friend. How are the tennis shoes?"
At least she knew Evan came by his ability to lighten the mood honestly. "Impeccable. Teşekkür ederim."
"You're welcome. And thank you, for saying such loving things about our son."
She presumed the sniffle she heard was Marisa. She could use a tissue herself. "I..."
"You're a sweet and intelligent woman, like I said. Our random meeting in Turkey was, I think, a blessing for our family."
Natalie stepped inside and let herself sink onto the big lonely bed. "Thanks. You too. I mean, both of you. And Evan. I've figured out a lot about myself, thanks to the Lee family."
Marisa said, "A blessing for everyone, then."
"I'm really sorry."
"Don't apologize. I'm sad, only because it took someone else to say what I wish I'd seen for myself."
"Or I had," added Koray.
Natalie forced cheer into her voice. "The outsider's perspective. I won't rescind my words, then. Listen, I have to get ready for services or we won't be in time."
"Not an outsider, dear. Just a new perspective. And a strong one."
Koray said, "L'shanah tovah." His Hebrew accent was superior to her Turkish one.
"Thanks. I hope a good new year is in the cards. I'll talk to you two soon, okay?"
She might not be an absolute outsider, thanks to many hours with the Lee clan in general and Evan in particular, but as she rushed through her Rosh Hashanah preparations, she wondered if she'd ever again have a chance to not-quite fit in with a loving--if flawed--family like theirs.
The new cantor was on the young side for a silver fox. His neat salt-and-pepper beard morphed into a porcupine mess when he leaned down to peck Elaine's cheeks. "Good, sweet New Year," he said.
"Nadav, meet my daughter. Natalie, this is Nadav Abramson."
The porcupine was soft enough as he tucked her into a polite hug. "At last, the famous Natalie. L'shana tovah tikatevee v'tichatemee."
"Shanah tovah," she said, aiming for warmth while her cool cynicism counted down until her mother started fluttering around the man. Seventy seconds later, Elaine was adding half a packet of sugar to the cup of decaf she'd poured for him, and Natalie was nodding along to his anecdote. She spotted her former Hebrew tutor standing across the fellowship hall, and excused herself.
Fran had been essential to her bat mitzvah preparations. She might also have been essential to the breakup of Elaine's marriage. Duncan Colby hadn't left them for Fran; he'd moved on to his next wife, Tennessee, when Natalie was still memorizing her Torah portion. By the time Duncan and Fran married, she'd largely forgotten her mortification at the way her stepfather flirted with her teacher every time he picked her up. Baby Jonas came along towards the end of her high school years. She occasionally saw her former stepfather at services, though he tended to be too busy baby wrangling to speak to her. More often, even before their divorce, she saw Fran and Jonas on their own.
"Selfie?" she asked him, after exchanging pleasantries with Fran.
He grabbed them a couple of apple slices to hold up to the camera. She tried to frame it all before realizing that his arms were longer than hers, and handing over her phone. She'd been to his bar mitzvah; she knew he was taller than her. But it was weird, reconciling that with her memories of chasing him around tables during family breakfasts and helping him craft a popsicle stick menorah back when she was a student helper for the religious school.
Maybe it had been her fondness for the kid, but she winced now, remembering how blasé she'd been about Elaine's animosity towards Fran. In Nat's self-absorbed teenage mind, Duncan had moved on to Tennessee, so marriage and co-parenting with Fran was nothing her mom should care about. Watching her mother, in the midst of their entire religious community, basking in the cantor's attention, she realized what a brat she'd been. She didn't have to agree with Elaine's views to understand them, and Nadav's public approbation was clearly increasing her mom's self-esteem. And Nat had no place devaluing either of them. Another resolution for the more open-hearted year to come.
She cropped some of her hair's volume out of the picture and showed it to Jonas. "Okay, I'm sending this to Serena. Any message?"
Mouth full of apple, he shook his head. She texted the photo to both Colby half-siblings. In a separate text to just Serena, she apologized for having been pushy about Serena's relationship with Jonas. All the excessive self-reflection she'd done in the past few months had led to the realization that she'd been sanctimonious, back when she and Serena had reconnected in college, about her former stepsister's standoffish relationship with Jonas.
"Are we in the atonement part of the High Holidays already?" Serena texted back.
"Just me exhibiting my newfound wisdom."
"So I shouldn't tell you you're being dumb? If you hadn't kicked my ass about Jonas, I'd barely even know my bro today. And he's finally getting interesting."
She glanced up to ensure Jonas wasn't reading the text stream over her shoulder. He had better things to do, unsurprisingly. "Only thing he's interested in seems to be the cute girls gossiping in the corner."
"He can't care about girls. He's fourteen."
"Sorry, S. That ship hasn't seen the dock for months now."
"Go warn him I'm going to make Dillon give him The Talk."
"Can I tell Dillon the same thing? In person? Pretty please?"
"Shut up."
She grinned and put her phone away. Jonas was a fixture at the synagogue, doing the same student teacher gigs she used to have. He had more than enough adult supervision to give him guidance, but it still warmed her heart that he and his sister had a strong relationship. Given their age difference, and the fact that neither of them saw much of their father, they could easily have lived entirely separate lives. Natalie's knowing, high-handed comments about how sweet a little boy Jonas was had been, at best, overstepping. She was lucky Serena had forgiven her, and seen through her attitude to the good intentions at her core. It was one more example of the generous spirits of the people that surrounded her.
Evan had accused her of running to attack her problems, or hiding from them, and either way acting alone. She was finally learning the value of trusting in a community approach. She had the generous hearts of many kind people on her side, and she could let their ideas shape her. With enough perspective, she could even see that some things, like her mother's need for a man to rely on, weren't Nat’s problem at all. She didn't need to change it, she didn't need to reject it. She didn't need to live by it. She could just accept it.
Leticia called, and thank goodness because Nat wanted to talk to her but wasn't sure if there was some couple-splitting protocol she would break by reaching out. "What's up with you?"
"Nothing dramatic. Unlike some people," Leticia said.
"So. Yeah. That happened."
"I gathered. You want to tell me about it?"
Crossing her fingers that she wasn't unraveling the threads of their new friendship, she said, "You know what? I don't, not really. Between my mom--and his mom--and everything, I'm talked out. Is it okay if we skip the post mortem?"
Leticia snorted. "That bad? Sorry."
"It'll pass." She hoped it would pass. "Hey, I've been meaning to call you, Woman with Wardrobe Opinions."
"Intriguing. Why's that?"
"I got a new job, and I don't have to wear power suits anymore. I'm purging the closet, and I've lost all perspective." She looked at the jumble of shoes she wasn't sure she wanted encasing her toes again. "Want to tell me what to repurpose, and what to donate to Dress for Success?"
"Give me your address and ten minutes."
Nat released one of her more cleansing breaths of the month. "Are you sure? It's not going to be awkward with Luke?"
"Did the man take ownership of me when I gave him my love? Please. I was kidding about the ten minutes part, I've got an event tonight, but I'd love to dig into your closet and get the dirt on the job while I'm at it. And anything else you want to tell me. Hint, hint."
She grinned. "You're incorrigible. Fine, we'll clear all the skeletons out of my closet, but I'll warn you, some of them might turn out to be zombies or mummies or something freaky like that."
"Perfect. The gorier, the better."
Nat promised to text her address and a couple of times when they could get together. "I'm so glad you called." She was beyond ready to rip apart the image of herself that she'd crafted over so many years. Leticia was the perfect partner in crime.
"Yeah. I'm amazing. See you soon, Skeletor."
Chris was parked at her curb when she got home from work on Wednesday. She walked out of the garage to meet him, instead of going through her house to her front door. She didn't want him thinking he was welcome inside.
"Hey there, Nat. How was your day?"
It had rocked, in fact. She'd gotten a young couple through the last of the paperwork they needed to buy their first home, and it made her feel all aglow. Not that it was any of his business. "Why are you here?"
Smooth and polished and rehearsed to be whatever he deemed was the right combination of contrite and confident, he said, "I realize it was a surprise, me turning up without calling like that. Now you've had a few days to process, you'll want to sit down and talk about us."
She ignored his move towards the door. "No."
He straightened those wide shoulders she'd once leaned on. "Sunrise, sweetheart, don't be shortsighted. This is what you've been wanting for years. I went through all kinds of hell with Terri to free myself so we can be together. Would I be here, pleading to go inside with you, if I hadn't done it all for you? For us?"
She slid her sunglasses into her hobo bag and studied his face. "You know what? I can't begin to figure out your motivations anymore."
"Let me show you. Let's move forward together." When he took a step to make that literal, she moved back. He pursed his lips. "I took a week-to-week rental, but it's too basic. Let's work this out so I can go ahead and move in before this weekend. I know Elaine would love to get going on the wedding planning."
"You talked to my mom about this?"
He shrugged.
"Did you call the rabbi to arrange a date while you were at it? You've got a lot of balls for someone unwilling to admit I was the other woman the whole time we were together."
He recoiled then regrouped, got soft and sweet. "I didn't tell you because I knew you'd be upset."
"No, you didn't tell me because you knew I'd end the relationship if I found out. That's what liars do, Chris. They pretend they're thinking of the other person's feelings when really they're protecting themselves."
"If I didn't want to protect you, I wouldn't have left Houston in the first place. The only way to stop you being subpoenaed in the divorce case was to cut off all contact. It killed me to be apart from you, Sunrise, you have to know that. But I did it for you."
"Another classic tactic, focusing on little details to sound honest, instead of admitting that you'd have lost whatever money or property your divorce lawyer was fighting for if your wife knew about us." She shook her head. "I don't know why I'm listening to you. I told you already, I'm not interested. I think you're a coward and a jerk for wasting so much of my life. I'm not plunging myself into the hell of wondering when you'll next lie to me, or cheat on me, or walk out on me. Go away. Never contact me. Or my mom, for that matter." She was proud of her steady voice. And of the appalled look on his face. She'd never been so calm, and blunt, and true to herself, all at the same time.
When he didn't move off her walkway, Natalie spun towards her car. An evening in Rachel's apartment playing with little Hannah was just the strategic retreat she needed. That, and to never be face-to-face with Chris again.