Fifteen

Dead Ends

Two things happened in the week that followed the school meeting and assignation at the hotel. Rachel solidified her friendship with Maya, and I finally stole away for a quiet escape with Jim.

It all began that Monday. I had just gotten in, and was thrilled to see that for the first time in a few months, my kid wasn’t sitting home alone. “Thank you for having me over.” Maya spoke softly, just like that day in the cafeteria. I was about to tell her she was welcome anytime, but Rachel’s phone pinged.

“Look, I got another one,” she said, showing her friend the screen. I saw over their shoulders that they were looking at Instachat. “He commented again. Just, ‘hi,’ like last time. He’s friends with someone’s camp friend,” she confided to Maya.

I didn’t want to interrupt. “You guys seem like you’re having fun. I’m going to go downstairs. I bought some cookies if you want.” They looked at one another and giggled. “Thank you, Dr. Bryant,” Maya called, as I went into the hallway.

With Rachel smiling more, finally secure in a friendship with someone from her class, I worried less about the girl clique and their snotty moms, and could finally breathe a little, although there was a new source of concern. Rachel had received online comments from some unknown kid, a boy she’d met through a classmate, someone’s camp friend. I recalled hearing patients describe how their teenagers met people online. Followers of the same account routinely chatted with one another. It was commonplace, and concerning. I’d have to speak to her about it.

I decided that a child should come with an owner’s manual, like an IKEA wall unit, with explicit directions for start-up, use, and maintenance. This shit was hard.

At least Rachel seemed to have made a friend. Hopefully Lee, Jess, and their daughters would start to have less power over us.

Jim was laughing, probably at the excitement in my voice. We were on our usual good night phone call. “I’ve been thinking that you were right,” I said. “We should have time alone and go away somewhere. Maybe I can try Maya’s mom, see if she’ll take Rachel for a couple of nights so we can we get away?”

“I’d love to.” His response was immediate. “I know a mountain resort not too far upstate. Very private, comfortable, there’s a spa and lots of hiking trails. It’s quiet off-season, so there will be no one around,” he added.

Hope there’s a fireplace. “That’s perfect,” I said, my happiness and excitement rising. “Oh, and Jim?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t expect to do too much hiking.”

I told Rachel that I was going away with Jim and that she’d be staying with Maya. She barely looked up from her phone, so I said to let me know if she had any questions. Moments later she texted from the room next door—that killed me—to ask who would be bringing her to basketball. Apparently my plans had registered.

With Rachel’s sort-of blessing, Jim and I left at eleven that Friday morning. The man at the registration desk gave us an early check-in, and by lunchtime, we were walking into our room. Jim dealt with the bellman as I texted Rachel, and then silenced the ringer. I went to look out the window at the rugged terrain below. It was mid-December and winter was in full force, the gray sky melting into hills and mountains in the distance. Jim came to stand behind me, guiding me backward slowly, until I was folded into the contours of his body.

“It’s beautiful,” I said. Then I forgot about the mountains as he kissed the back of my neck. We never bothered to order a meal; we were too busy getting reacquainted. Jim’s lovemaking was steady and strong. At moments, he looked straight at me, and I felt happy and a little shy. At other times, we were moving in sync, and I wasn’t aware of anything but the warmth of his body.

A couple of hours later, we sat on the loveseat by the crackling fireplace. I’d gotten my wish, actually several of my wishes, and then we talked. I felt relaxed, like I didn’t have a bone in my body, and was wondering whether to share this fascinating fact, when Jim spoke first.

“I’m really glad we’re here,” he said.

“Me too. This is so nice. I was hoping we could have a fire. It’s chilly up here. I’m so happy being with you, away from everything else.”

“That’s good to hear. I brought my ex here once—I hope that’s not a bad thing to say—and it was a disaster. She hated everything: the drive up, remote location, and the outdoor activities. We fought the whole time, which was par for the course.”

I squeezed his hand. “Rachel has shown me what it’s like to have deep bond over many years.” I smiled. “But now getting to know you, I know there’s a whole different level of closeness that can be possible.”

He grabbed my hand. “I feel exactly the same way.”

We held each other and enjoyed the silence. Finally he raised a question. “You told me you lost your parents, but didn’t elaborate. Is there some reason you didn’t say more? You don’t have to, but . . . .”

I spoke more openly this time. “It was a car accident, a drunk driver careening down a one-way street.” Seeing how Jim’s eyes widened, I recalled how much I hated discussing the accident. People always felt sorry for me, a sentiment I wanted to avoid with him. I’d nip it in the bud. “About my parents and Rachel growing up without a dad . . . please don’t pity us.”

The look on his face was tender. “Oh, Victoria. No pity, but I am sorry.” He cupped my face and kissed me. “You’ve had to deal with being on your own for a long time. It’s a lot.”

“Yes, I had to grieve at a young age. People hadn’t . . . stayed around.” As my eyes filled with tears, Jim looked like he wanted to say something. Instead he pulled me closer.

“But I’m happy now,” I said.

“Enough talking for the next, um, six weeks?” I laughed and leaned in to kiss him. His chest felt like home.

The rest of the time flew by. We didn’t bother to leave the suite. We just kept putting the room service trays outside the door, not needing more excitement than each other’s company, until Rachel texted on Sunday morning. She was at her team’s basketball game, which had been rescheduled from the day before—writing during half time. As soon as I started reading, I knew it was time to leave our quiet idyll.

She was at her team’s basketball game, writing during halftime: “Collette just texted Lexi: ‘How come you get to sit there and I’m stuck with Rachel. She’s weird!’ I can see her phone.’”

I instantly felt angry—why couldn’t that kid just leave Rachel alone already?—then guilty. I’d been having the time of my life while my daughter was being picked on. “Sit with Maya!” I wrote.

“Not allowed to change seats,” she responded.

“Did you have fun at her house?” I held my breath after I’d hit “send.”

“Yes. Gotta go. Biii.” she wrote.

As soon as Jim went down to check out, I texted Rachel again: “Be home soon. Please thank Maya’s mom for letting you stay, taking you to the zoo and the game, and all the other stuff. Love you.”

I went over to the window and snapped a photo of the scenery. It was so beautiful. I’d have to get someone on the staff to take one of Jim and me, which reminded me of the other hotel photo: Lee and Peter. They were the last people I wanted to think about.

Jim came back into the room with the bellman, and I shoved the other thought to the side. “It’s beautiful outside, though chilly,” he said. “Next time we have to hike.”

“Deal,” I said.

I wondered whether he’d heard about Rachel’s basketball game and my dustup with Lee? I’d been waiting for him to bring it up, but he failed to mention it.

On the car ride home, we spoke about our favorite travel destinations. My list was short, but Jim had traveled a lot, and told me about visiting Australia, how beautiful the shoreline was, and how nice everyone had been.

Since he was in the mood to chat, I decided to broach a topic that had been on my mind, “I’ve been wondering, did you ever want kids?”

Jim thought for a minute. I wasn’t sure if I’d put him on the spot, or if he was choosing his words carefully. “I had a lot of things I wanted to do by the time I turned forty: make the leap from teacher to admin; get promoted on that level; see the world because my dad worked and worked, and played golf on Sundays, but he always told me he regretted never traveling anywhere exotic. That stayed with me. I took the chance to see other continents, broaden my perspective. And my ex wasn’t the right person. After the divorce I dated some, but nothing ever clicked.” Jim sounded comfortable, matter-of-fact.

We rode together, my hand in his, comfortable in the shared quiet.

“There’s something I haven’t told you,” he finally said. “I met my ex-wife, Tonya, years ago, while I was living in the city. I was finishing my first master’s, trying to get certified in teaching. We lived together for a couple of years and she broke it off, hoping to meet someone more high-powered, I think.”

That was the Tonya that Lee had mentioned. Despite Lee’s best efforts at causing tension, Jim was discussing the past on his terms. I squeezed his hand.

“I moved out and moved on, teaching, trying to figure out my life. A bunch of years later, I went back for a second master’s and had to take on debt.” Jim breathed. “One day, Tonya called. She said she regretted breaking up and wanted us to try again.” He laughed. “I later figured out, she was turning thirty and freaking out about being single. But at the time, I followed the path of least resistance and moved back into her apartment. She paid the bills while I finished up my practicum and got licensed.”

I listened, digesting it all. We were almost at my house, on a slow-moving back road. Jim cleared his throat.

“I had my doubts, but agreed to marry her.” He paused, gathering steam. “She paid off my student loans too.” For a second, I thought he was going to cry.

“Jim, spouses pay off one another’s debts. It’s not like you did anything to be ashamed of.”

“I haven’t gotten to the worst of it. We didn’t have the best relationship. We argued constantly. I finally told her we needed to split up.”

“I’m sorry; that must have been difficult,” I said. “But you tried. Things didn’t work out. It happens.”

“Not according to Tonya. She accused me of using her for financial gain, and threatened to take me to the cleaners. It turns out, in New York when a degree is financed by a spouse, it becomes ‘property of the marriage.’” He shifted uncomfortably in the driver’s seat. “The judge ruled that Tonya was entitled to 50 percent of my wages.” He continued to grip the wheel tightly.

I pulled one of his hands toward me and held on with all my might. “I’m glad you told me about all that. Is this what you alluded to, the story you didn’t want to get into?” He nodded and clenched his jaw. “Well, I want you to know, the money stuff, it isn’t that important to me.”

We were at a red light. Jim looked over and held my gaze, and then he leaned in and kissed me until the traffic light turned green and the drivers behind us started blaring their horns.

We drove quietly for a few moments. Noticing that he looked completely drained, I decided it was time to lighten the mood. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about the photos in your apartment. You traveled alone?”

“Sometimes. Or with friends. I once accompanied a group of students on a tour through Europe. I’ll tell you about that sometime, but let’s just say: never again.”

We laughed.

He reached for my hand. “Vic, I’m glad I told you about my divorce.” He paused and I leaned over to kiss him again. “You know,” he said, “I can really see us together.”

I held on tightly. “Me too.”