Thirteen

I don’t believe in signs from above. I don’t. But I was finishing my run that crisp clear morning, making my way past raked leaves and neatly edged lawns, and when I turned onto Cherry Street I saw a big For Sale sign standing self-importantly in front of my favorite house. I almost ran into a tree. When is a sign a sign? Well, this one was accompanied by an insistent little voice telling me that some things are meant to be; Michael and I were meant to get married, meant to buy this house, meant to live happily ever after.

Fuck that little voice.

When I got home the answering machine light was blinking. I hoped it was finally Michael. His silence was beginning to piss me off. It now seemed like a standoff and the one who called first would be the weakling.

But it wasn’t Michael, it was Patrick, and as I listened to his message, relief and affection spread through me like warm milk.

“Hey, I had a great idea,” his once-again familiar voice said. “I was thinking I’d come to Chicago and take you to lunch. What do you think? No pressure. No stress. We’ll just have lunch and then I’ll go home. Doesn’t that sound like fun? It would be great to see you.”

Come to Chicago? For lunch? It was outrageous. But my heart was thumping when the message ended. Was he serious? It was so impulsive, so daring, so extraordinary. So unlike anything that ever happened in my life.

I dialed his number. “Okay, do I need to remind you that you live a thousand miles away?”

“Hey!” he said, clearly happy to hear from me.

“That’s a tough commute for lunch.”

“It’s not so bad,” he said. “It’s just a quick plane ride.” His enthusiasm made me feel young and reckless. “So when should I come? Tomorrow?”

“Oh, god no, not tomorrow for heaven’s sake!” I said, feeling an equal measure of elation and terror.

“Just kidding,” he said. “But how about Friday? Would that work for you?” I felt a giggle rising up from my stomach as I looked at my calendar. I had someone coming in for a fitting on Friday, then a dentist appointment, then a phone consultation. The fitting was at nine A.M. The others? Was my life all about fittings and appointments and obligations? Why couldn’t they be rescheduled? How could I not rearrange a few things for Patrick’s amazing idea?

“Friday could work,” I found myself saying. Was I really going to let him do this?

“Outstanding,” Patrick said. “I’ll e-mail the details.”

After we hung up I stood there grinning like a goofball, thoughts racing around my brain like Ping-Pong balls. I imagined us eating lunch at the airport amid the hustle and bustle of travelers. Would it be awkward? What would he look like in the flesh? Would we be as comfortable face-to-face as we were on the phone? Should I call my hairdresser and evict the gray? Could I lose five pounds by Friday? Maybe get a quick shot of Botox?

The part of me that wasn’t overwhelmed was inflated like a joyous bubble. I was going to see Patrick Harrison.

I had to tell Sophie.

“You’re kidding,” she said when I called her. “He’s coming to Chicago just for lunch? How fun. And decadent. Can Pete and I come?”

“No!” I said.

She laughed. “Kidding,” she said. “He e-mailed Pete. Pete was really excited to hear from him. He said we should plan a trip to Florida to visit.”

“Let’s all go. A road trip, just like that time we all drove to St. Louis, remember? In our senior year?”

“I remember,” Sophie said. “I remember that ratty motel we stayed in.”

“Remember those Missouri cockroaches? They were big as cats. Patrick went after one with his boot and it got right up and ran away.”

“That was so much fun, wasn’t it? If you could go back to that time, would you?”

“For the day, maybe, but to live it all again? I don’t think so. Would you?”

“Would I be able to do anything different?” she asked. It was a totally unexpected response.

“What would you want to do differently? Oh my god, if you’re going to tell me you and Pete are having problems, what chance in hell do I have of a decent relationship?”

“No, no, we’re good. But if I could do it again, I’d maybe go to law school before we had kids. And work for a couple years. Sometimes I wish I had a career I could have fallen back on.”

“You always seemed content to be a stay-at-home mom.”

“I know. I was. I am. Pretty much. But I always envied your having a career, working your way up in the corporate world, earning the boss’s respect, that sense of accomplishment. Not to mention wearing beautiful clothes.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Somehow I don’t see you as a lawyer.”

“Yeah, well, maybe a veterinarian, then. Or tennis pro.”

“Or storm-chaser,” I said. “Or Barbie-dress designer.”

We both laughed but then Sophie got serious again. “And then you started your own business,” she said, “and made a success of that. I guess if I had it to do again, I’d just have wanted something of my own, outside of the family. I’m sorry I didn’t have that experience.”

“How did I not know that?” It seemed disheartening to me that we’d been friends for almost forty years and I hadn’t known this about her. How do you ever really know someone? “You could still do it, you know. You could go back to school if you wanted to. Or start a business.”

“Oh sure, just like that.”

“If you’re serious, Soph, I’ll work on it with you. You have lots of talent you could turn into a business; you’re an amazing cook, your arts and craft stuff.…”

“It’s not that big of a deal. Really. Just a small regret in my otherwise marvelous life. Just something I’ve thought about recently, especially now that Danielle’s getting married. Pretty soon Tiffany will be going off to college, and then what will I do?”

“Go to the spa? Eat bonbons?”

“Oh hell, I’ve been doing that for years,” she said. “So anyway, I hate to rain on your parade but what about this lunch with Patrick? Are you going to tell Michael?”

“Michael?”

“Michael.”

“Oh god, Sophie, I don’t know. It’s just lunch. Why do I have to worry about Michael now?”

“Because you’re engaged, even if you’re not sure you want to be, and you’re going to have lunch with your high school sweetheart who’s traveling twelve hundred miles to see you. That’s why.”

“Oh,” I said. “Yeah, there’s that.”