The Truth Is a Theory Page 13

  Now that she was an official entity, Nina put her hands on her steady hips and looked expectantly from Dana to Allie. Was she enjoying this? Tears of frustration welled up as Allie’s need to connect with Dana somehow—through a look or a hug or a tone of voice—was thwarted by Dana’s refusal to look up from his book.

  “I should get going,” Allie said. “Got to get back to work and all that. It’s good to see you.”

  Dana slowly raised his eyes from the green and red illustrations. “Allie… ”

  She turned around; held her breath.

  He looked at her intently. Allie’s wish for connection was granted through his long look, but it was a tortured and painful connection, and she didn’t feel better for it. Then he sucked any escaped emotion back in and locked the door. “Good to see you too.”

  Every molecule in her body spurred her to sprint, but she forced her feet to walk. Walk and pretend to glance at a title or two. Oh, interesting! She made herself touch one of the books on the shelf. The clogged aisles stretched out longer and longer in front of her, a carnival trick.

  She stumbled back to work, blind and disoriented in the sunshine. The rest of the afternoon, through the scheduling of appointments and the greeting of patients, thoughts of Dana tormented her, the emotional aftermath of their encounter hung on her like a cumbersome overcoat she couldn’t shake off.

  Dana. She loved him; that hadn’t changed with their breakup 10 months ago. They had kept in touch over the phone, straining to be chatty while tamping down the deep ache of missing each other. “Hi, how are you” was always saturated with hope—that this call might be different, that this time they might compromise and get back together—and tinged with trepidation, because nothing had really changed, their feelings for each other were just as strong as their impasse. They both knew that 60 seconds in they would hang up feeling frustrated and unfulfilled, and a few quips later this certainty would pan out, as their words hollowed and led to a goodbye full of unspoken feelings and reawakened hurt. They had talked less and less throughout the year, but were unwilling to completely let go. The last conversation had been five weeks ago.

  Allie loved living in New York with Megan. Their apartment was tiny, a cubicle, known in real estate jargon as a “one-and-a-half bedroom” because the original bedroom had been partitioned off into two. But it was home. Their group of friends was a riot and their escapades spontaneous; you never knew what the night would bring, who you might meet, what fling or adventure might be around the corner. Just the other night they’d divided up into three teams, and armed with a Polaroid camera and a list of destinations, they had raced around the city on a whacky, pictorial scavenger hunt. Allie’s team of 10 had asked strangers to photograph them piled in the back of a taxi, in front of a pyramid of fruit at the corner deli, and standing on the bar at their favorite pub.

  Her job was fine, it was a job; a stress-free, nine-to-five chore that paid the bills. Professionally, it was a dead-end; answering phones and scheduling appointments wasn’t challenging, and there were no promotions for a receptionist in a doctor’s office. She had no interest in medicine, but nothing else captured her imagination either. So she stayed at her desk, smiling at the parade of patients, filing her nails in between filing intake forms, and flipping through People while she answered the phone.

  Some of her friends were also receptionists, group-assistants, and gophers, but their jobs were stepping stones to coveted careers. Megan had landed a sought-after group assistant job at J. Walter Thompson, one of New York’s premier advertising agencies. She was paid next to nothing, worked killer hours, and had used her brain maybe once in the past month, but she was in heaven.

  And of course Dana was on a different path, at Boston College Law School, now with one year under his belt. And perky little Nina under his belt too. Allie looked at her watch. Three more hours. She rubbed her temples; her whole body ached as if she had just been picked up and slammed into the Brooklyn Bridge. She opened up her desk drawer and shook out two Advil.

  The minute the clock struck five (other people had lightbulbs in their heads, she had a five-o’clock chime) she was out the door and race-walking the 30 blocks home, with a pit stop for a cheap bottle of chablis on the way. She dumped the accoutrements of her day in a heap by the front door—heels, blazer, enormous black leather bag (a vessel that held makeup, tampons, her Filofax, a bottle of water, numerous magazines, and hundreds of matchbooks that were not only functional, but also served as miniature cardboard mementos)—and gathered up everything she would need to wait for Megan—cigarettes, a glass of wine, the clicker, and the latest copy of Vanity Fair. The nondescript glass ashtray, pocketed from a nondescript bar, had several butts in it when Megan’s key finally scraped into the lock.

  The walls of the apartment seemed to sigh with relief as Megan stepped through the door.

  “You’ll never believe who I saw today,” Allie said.

  Megan raised one eyebrow and studied Allie’s face. “You’re right, I don’t think I will. Who?” She stepped out of her heels.

  “Dana.”

  “In New York?” She walked a few steps into their kitchenette—as far as conversation was concerned, it was the same room—and poured herself a glass of wine. “Something tells me I’m going to need this.”

  “You will.” Allie lit up another cigarette. “He walked right by me with a cute blonde on his arm.”

  Megan’s eyes widened as she sat down.

  “I almost died. I stalked them like a crazy person and then basically threw myself at them.”

  “Oh no. Did either of them catch you?”

  “I fell flat on my face. And Nina, Nina, was quite the attentive observer. She soaked it all up.”

  “Did she get an earful?”

  “Not really. Oh Meg, it was terrible. I’ve never seen him with anyone else. I thought I was going to throw up all over her brown leather sandals and perfect pedicure.”

  “I thought law students were supposed to be dowdy and pasty from studying all the time.”

  “Apparently not.” Allie made a face.

  Megan slid a cigarette out of the pack on the table. “How was he? How’d he handle it?”

  “He seemed a little shaken up; not as much as me though. I was a wreck. I’ve been shaking all day.” Allie held out her hand as evidence. “I probably scheduled surgery for people who wanted a check-up.”

  “I bet he was a wreck too. Cute blonde or not, he loves you, Allie.”

  “You’re going to think I’m crazy, but I’ve been thinking about it all day. I’m jealous, okay? But it’s more than that.” She looked straight at Megan. “I want him back.”

  “Okay… ” Megan exhaled the word and the smoke from her cigarette at the same time. “Hold that thought.” She jumped up and grabbed the wine bottle out of the refrigerator. “We’re going to need some help.” She filled up Allie’s glass. “Devil’s advocate?” She put the bottle down on an old wooden trunk that was their coffee table. It was stained with an intricate pattern of perfect circles, evidence of the many bottles and glasses that had sweat there over time.

  “Please.” Allie relaxed and sat back.

  Megan picked up her burning cigarette from the ashtray. “Fact: I know you love Dana, and I know Dana loves you. And I definitely know that you’ve missed him.”

  Allie thought about all the nights she had sobbed in Megan’s arms.

  Megan continued, “But you’ve also had fun dating. And this is what you wanted, you chose being single over being with Dana last summer.”

  “But only because he forced the issue.”

  “So what’s changed?”

  “Being separated from him feels all wrong. I can’t stand that we don’t know what’s going on with each other, that we’re not part of each other’s lives. I swear, I was in the twilight zone in that bookstore making small talk. How do you do
that with someone you know so well?”

  “It must’ve been awful.”

  Allie leaned forward and dropped her head into her hands. “I just miss him.”

  “I know.” Megan squeezed Allie’s shoulder. “But are you sure that means getting back with him?” They were quiet for a moment. “I can say all this because you know how much I love you, right?”

  “This is great; I need to have this conversation.”

  “Then, can I remind you of last summer when you guys broke up? He wanted to live together and you didn’t?”

  “I wasn’t ready. I was scared.”

  “I know. But how do you know you won’t feel that again?” Megan dragged from her cigarette. “You know if you decide to get back together—if Dana wants to, which I would put money on—it’s going to be forever. He’s going to want a commitment from you.”

  “I know.” Allie had been thinking about last July’s breakup all day, about the intense feelings that had been put on the table and had at the end of the day, caused them to go their separate ways.

  ————

  The heat and humidity hung like a wet washcloth that Fourth of July, and after a long day of jumping in and out of the Sexton’s country club pool, Allie and Dana sat wilting on Dana’s back porch, their arms and legs splayed out across their wooden chairs. Dana’s mother Sharon was adamantly opposed to air conditioning, and on that day, even though a ceiling fan spun frenetically in every room of their large house, the thick air refused to relent.

  The air was just as oppressive out on the porch. And away from the whirring of the fans, it was eerily quiet, as if the birds were too weighted down to sing. Despite the hush however, both Allie and Dana were jumpy, teetering on the edge of a serious discussion about the next step in their lives. The cord between them had been taut with anticipation for over a week; each of them had rehearsed their lines over and over, and each had already thrown a syllable or two into the ring before quickly retreating when the moment, the mood, the quiet had shifted. Life with the Sexton family had a definite rhythm to it, even in the summer: breakfast at nine, tennis at ten, lunch at the Grille. There wasn’t much time when either Dana’s mom or his three sisters weren’t jumping into the conversation, or just plain stealing it. Late afternoon on the porch wasn’t perfect either, as Dana’s father was due home any time, signaling the beginning of cocktail hour and the first of his several stirred martinis (“Obviously not a Bond fan,” Allie had once whispered to Dana). But Allie couldn’t dance around the tension any longer.

  “So Megan just lined up a job at J. Walter Thompson; she starts in five weeks.” Allie twirled a chunk of her hair. “She’s looking for an apartment, and I think I’m going to look with her.”

  “Just steer clear of Zoe’s realtor.”

  “Ha! We definitely couldn’t afford anything in her league.”

  “We?”

  She looked at Dana and took a deep breath. “I didn’t mean just help Megan look. I meant look with her, for me too. Roommates.”

  “In New York?”

  Allie nodded and looked down at her bare feet.

  Dana shifted forward in his seat. “Actually I was thinking, hoping that you could get a job in Boston.” He put his hand underneath her chin and gently lifted it up. “I need a roommate too, you know.”

  Allie’s heart leapt. It felt so good to have Dana look into her eyes and be so heartfelt, so tender. His eyes were warm, soft, loving, so different from the casual, composed way he usually looked at her. She wanted to melt into him.

  And then the fear rushed up and grabbed her by the throat. People leave you. He will leave you. If you open your heart fully, he’s going to crush it.

  Dana filled in the silence. “We could get a cheap one-bedroom. It’d be so great! I’ll be pretty busy with school, but you can get a job in Boston as easily as you can in New York. How awesome would it be to live together? We wouldn’t have to worry about traveling to see each other, phone bills, anything. We’d come home from work to our own place. Of course, you’d have dinner waiting.” His smile slipped away when he saw her face. “Okay, so we’d get takeout.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What don’t you know about?”

  “I’ve already told Meg I’d live with her.”

  “She’d understand.”

  Allie swallowed hard. “Dana.” She slid her chair closer to him so that their knees were touching and she leaned in close, despite the fact that they were both sweating in the heat. “I love you. God, I love you so much.” Her voice was violent with conviction. “You know that I hope…”

  She paused for a full minute. His knees felt warm and slick with sweat against hers. She desperately wanted to feel more of him, more of this body that was an extension of her own, but she fought the urge to crawl into his lap. She knew her next words would not be greeted with open arms. “But I’m just not ready to live together.”

  Dana took her hands in his. “I love you too. I want to marry you. Hell, I would ask you to marry me today if I thought you’d say yes. But I know the whole marriage thing scares you, so I’m willing to wait. For that.” He hesitated. “But I need some kind of commitment from you.”

  There was a dead-end in his voice. Allie felt sick with fear.

  “I don’t want to do this separation thing anymore,” Dana continued. “I can’t do this separation thing anymore. And I definitely can’t do the seeing-other-people thing. I can’t stand thinking of you with someone else, and I certainly don’t want to be with anyone else. It just doesn’t make sense to me.”

  “Okay, so let’s not date other people. I don’t want to do that either.”

  “It’s not enough, honey. I don’t want to visit you anymore. I want to live with you.”

  His last words echoed through her head as if they had been shouted in an empty, cavernous room.

  “I’m scared,” Allie whispered.

  “I know you’re scared.” Dana squeezed her hands. “I know you see the marriage that your mom and dad had, or didn’t have, and it feels like a precedent has been set for you. But Allie, there are plenty of marriages that work.”

  “My mom married young.” Allie gazed out over the yard, her voice carrying only slightly more emotion than if she was reading off of a teleprompter. “I’m guessing she was happy when she said yes. And then she had a house and three kids, the American dream. Except for her, I guess it was a nightmare, because she bolted. From me.” She swallowed. “I must have been a nightmare.” That was something she had never said out loud before.

  Dana glanced out over the yard, following Allie’s gaze, but there was nothing but shady trees and green grass. He looked back at her. “Hey,” Dana said softly, “we’re not talking about marriage. Just being together. Living in sin.”

  Allie looked at him, her green eyes despondent. “I can’t lose you.” Fat tears inched down her face.

  Dana reached over and wiped them off.

  “But I’m not ready yet. I can’t, Dana.” She was filled with dread. “Please.” Please.

  Dana sagged back in his chair.

  Allie sensed that his reclining away wasn’t a good sign, and so she continued—urgently—to explain herself. “I don’t know, it’s like this wall around my heart.” She paused, shook her head. “No, it’s like this vise around my chest that squeezes me, tries to suffocate me, hisses that this would be a mistake. That I am a mistake. That one day when I least expect it, you’re going to see something in me that will send you running in the opposite direction.” She knew she wasn’t making sense, knew there was no way she could make him understand her sense of foreboding.

  “So I’m trying to understand.” He massaged the back of his neck. “You love me. You want to be with me. But you can’t bring yourself to do it and you’re not sure when you’ll be able to.”

  Allie sat back too. Her words
sounded crazy, even to her.

  “I’m a mistake,” Dana said.

  “Not you, me. Me. I’m a mistake.” She was desperate for him to understand. “I’m damaged, Dana. People walk away from me when they really see me.” She swallowed hard and said in a small voice, “I don’t want to be your nightmare.”

  “Seems to me like you’re the one walking away now.” Dana’s voice was flat. “I can’t live in different cities anymore. It’s too exhausting for me. I love you Allie, I want to be with you. Now that we can be together, it doesn’t make sense to choose to be apart.” He exhaled loudly. “I just don’t understand.”

  Tears streamed down Allie’s face.

  A lawnmower hummed in the distance.

  Dana waited a moment and then stood up and walked inside the house. The screen door slammed shut behind him with a loud thwack.

  “I know,” Allie said aloud to no one.

  ————

  Many times at her desk today, and for that matter, many times throughout the past year, Allie had thought back on that Fourth of July, and when she did, the hopelessness she felt when Dana had pushed himself out of his chair and walked away flooded her all over again.

  Megan was right; nothing had changed. Except time. But today it was obvious that if she didn’t face her fears and give this her best shot, Dana would slip away. He was already slipping away. In shielding herself from the worst, she was actually making it happen. And the bottom line was that she could not live her life without him. She had always assumed they’d be together in the future, she just had never thought through how it would come to be.

  Megan spoke into the silence. “I can’t imagine the two of you with anyone else in the long run. But I think you get one ‘back together’ chip to play, and that’ll be it. You need to be sure you want to use it now.”

  “I think I do.” Allie locked eyes with Megan. “I do.”

  “Okay then.”

  Allie grinned. “I’m going to call him.”