Wishing
December, 2000
What’s a girl to do? Should she fulfill the wish of her dying friend or should she protect herself from almost certain heartache and embarrassment? On the one hand, Kelly will never know if I went to New York, so technically I can ignore her request. But on the other hand, what if she’s right and I can get Leo back simply by telling him I’m divorced. What if it’s that easy? About an hour into the drive to my cottage, my brain is about to explode from all of my psychotic back and forth debating, so I flip on the radio hoping to take my mind off of Leo for two minutes, but guess who’s there yelling at me! My grandpa, and he’s telling me to go to New York, too. No matter what station I switch the dial to, every song that I shared with Leo and every song that reminds me of him is playing. Dave Matthews, Sarah McLachlan, Jewel…all of their voices sent by my grandpa to haunt me.
“… And I have the sense to recognize
That I don’t know how to let you go
every moment marked with apparitions of your soul…”
Shut up! Shut up! Shut up, Sarah McLachlan!
“… I’m ever swiftly moving
trying to escape this desire…”
I am, and it’s exhausting. Maybe New York isn’t such a bad idea. Not because I think Leo’s gonna swoop me up in his arms the second he sees me, but because the only likely way to rid myself of the desire I have for him is to hear it directly from him that he’s done with me. I guess he technically already told me that when he slammed the door in my face, sped away, and moved three thousand miles away. But I was still married then, he didn’t have a choice but to react any other way. But to get that kind of rejection from him now that I’m officially divorced and fully ready to commit to him could be officially desire killing! It’s the opposite of what I hope for, but at least it’ll result in some kind of closure, and I think that’s what Kelly wants for me. Apparently my grandpa does, too. Looks like I’m going to New York tonight.
I get back to my cottage in just enough time to pack a small bag and leave Slutty Co-worker a message about my trip and where I’ll be staying in case of an emergency and then I dash off to make the red eye. Where do I go when I land? Do I just show up at his office? Shit, what if he doesn’t even live in New York anymore? I thought the six-hour flight would afford me enough time to come up with a really good plan of attack, but it didn’t. And after creating three pages of the pros and cons of finding Leo, and chugging down six vodka tonics, the plane starts its descent into New York City…without a plan. Already!? I peek out the window, and when I catch a glimpse of the World Trade Center, I quickly close the shade as if he can see me. The closer the plane gets to the ground, the more I turn into a chickenshit, and by the time we touch down, I decide the least scary course of action is to check into a hotel near the World Financial Center and just wander around. I’ll have fulfilled Kelly’s wish, while at the same time fulfilling my desire to not make an ass of myself. Good plan, except little did I know, Slutty Co-worker was busy making me look like an ass on her very own. At one in the morning, after returning home from an evening of tawdry raunchiness, she listened to my message. Without hesitation, she woke up Megan, who she made wake up her friend, who then woke up her now ex-boyfriend to get Leo’s phone number. By the time I check into my hotel, Slutty Co-worker had woken up most of Contra Costa County and called Leo to tell him where I was. Four hours later, after a quick nap and a cold shower, I reappear outside of the hotel. Unbeknownst to me, Leo’s there too.
Without a plan, I look to my left and to my right, take a deep breath, and walk in the direction of the nearest coffee shop. Leo follows a safe distance behind, careful not to let me see him. For over an hour, I sip on bitter coffee and stare at the nauseatingly happy Christmas shoppers as I absorb the real reason I’m here. On my third cup, I remove the list of pros and cons from my purse and review each line item again, now ranking them in order of importance. From across the street, Leo watches me have a bizarre mental conversation with myself as he contemplates his next move.
After what seems like forever, I come to the conclusion that the #1 pro associated with tracking down Leo is that he might profess his undying love for me. All good, but the #1 con associated with tracking him down is that he might tell me he’s in another relationship. Well, that answers that! There’s no way in hell I’m gonna track that guy down and find out he’s happily bangin’ some other chick! I violently crush the pieces of paper into tight balls and shove them in my purse. I’m definitely sticking with my chickenshit plan, and I’ll be spending my day wandering around NOT looking for Leo! I’ll do some shopping, have a nice dinner, and take the first flight back tomorrow. I pay the bill and get a smart ass remark from the waitress for taking up her booth for so long and then I venture back into the angry New York fray. Goddamn, the people here are mean.
I walk for hours, down West Broadway, over to Park Place, and finally landing on West Street where I dart into the Winter Atrium. It’s a huge reprieve from the cold, and if I had my wits about me, I probably would’ve heard Leo mutter, “It’s about time,” from a few feet behind.
The Atrium is truly spectacular, and I’ve always wanted to visit, but never had enough time to venture to this side of the city. Its architectural beauty definitely provides an upside to this waste-of-time trip and, for a second, I forget why I’m even in New York. As I make my way over to the garden area that overlooks the Hudson River, my heels click click click LOUDLY on the mosaic tile floor of the scarcely populated lobby. I get the weird sense that my shoes are making me the target of some young person’s shoe envy or an old person’s shoe mockery, so I pause and scan the room to see if anyone’s looking at me. As I turn around in a circle, Leo darts behind one of the massive palm trees scattered throughout the Atrium, just missing my glance. I shrug off the weird vibe and press on, cursing my love of impractical footwear for the remainder of my walk of shame to the garden area. I immediately forget about my shoes when I get to the overlook and see the sunset. It’s beautiful. Although…it would be more beautiful if the two love-struck a*sholes next to me weren’t making out so hard. From behind the palm tree, Leo watches intensely as I glare at the kissers, roll my head back, look up at the Heavens, and shake my head in total frustration. Badly needing a drink, I interrupt the a*sholes and ask where the nearest bar is. They send me to P.J. Clark’s on Vesey Street “cuz it’s like totally awesome!” I’m like, you two can go f*ck yourselves.
Finding P.J. Whatever’s isn’t as easy as the love-idiots said it would be, and I’m irritated with myself for choosing a hotel in the financial district as opposed to the garment district. I know where a hundred bars are there! “Oh finally, there’s Vesey!” Rounding the corner, I stop dead in my tracks.
“What the?”
Confused, I look around in a million different directions and then ever so slowly, images of my close encounter with Leo from last February flash through my mind. My head snaps to the left. There’s the intersection! Then to the right. There’s the curb! Then straight across the street.
“Holy Shit!” P.J. Clarke’s is the bar Leo goes to after work! I take my gaze across the street from Leo’s hang out and recognize the small restaurant where Slutty Co-worker and I spent time stalking him.
“How am I here right now!? Grandpa, talk to me!”
From a block behind, Leo folds his arms across his chest and leans against a building. He’s realizing it wasn’t my intention to find him.
“Oh, God!” Hastily, I grab at my wrist and check the time. Five o’clock. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” He might be in there RIGHT now! I squint to get a better look inside, but the bright sunset against the window makes it impossible to see anything. I quickly grab a coin out of my pocket. If it’s heads, I’ll go in, tails I’ll hail a cab. “Heads! D’oh!” I check my hair and makeup in the nearest window and turn sideways to get a look at my butt and waistline. “I’m so glad I didn’t eat lunch.” Leo stirs, runs his fingers through his hair, and wonders what to do next.
“Here goes nothing.” Thinking that he might actually be looking at me through the window of P.J. Clarke’s, I find it hard to walk across the street correctly. My arms and legs won’t function in a way that makes me look calm, cool, and collected, and I literally stumble towards the bar like a zombie from an episode of Scooby Doo. Seriously, I look like a f*cking idiot who forgot how to walk. A cab rolls by and for a second I consider calling for it, but then I hear ten thousand voices in my head screaming “QUITTER!” so I don’t. Someone or something put me at this intersection for the second time in my life, and I can’t ignore its will. I have to see this through. I have to have faith. Once inside the door, I make a beeline for the closest available barstool and immediately pretend to look for something in my purse, so that I don’t have to look around. If Leo’s here, he’s gonna have to make the first move. I used up all of my courage getting across the street.
“Mind if I sit here?”
My disappointment rivals Leo’s anger as we focus on the guy asking the question. He’s a total player from Leo’s office. The kind of guy who bangs a different girl every night of the week…like the one’s Buckley’s was full of the night I met Leo.
“It’s a free country.”
“Whatcha drinking?”
“Anything.”
“Hey, Rocko, couple of manhattan’s over here!”
“Sort of cliché, don’t you think?”
“What, a manhattan in Manhattan or a bartender named Rocko?”
My slight smile makes Leo clinch his fists.
“Both, I guess.”
“Got a name?”
“Maude.”
Player boy makes a smelly fart face, and I can barely contain myself.
I’ve come up with some awful fake names before, but Maude takes the cake.
“Yo, dude…I thought you were taking a sick day! Come on over and meet Ma… this great gal!”
Not interested in meeting one of Player’s player friends, I stare at the television and drink my drink.
“I already know her.” That voice.
“Oh yeah, and just how well do you know this pretty lady?”
“Better than you ever will, now get the hell away from her.” Leo.
As soon as Player meanders away with his tail between his legs, Leo takes his seat. Everything wonderful that I remember about him washes over me like a tidal wave. I take a deep breath and muster up every ounce of courage to speak.
“Hi.”
Just silence and an ice cold stare.
“You and Player…friends are you?”
“We work together, that’s it.”
“Are you really sick?”
I’ve dreamt about this moment for a year and a half, and these aren’t the questions I dreamt about asking! First I can’t walk and now I can’t talk!
“No, but when I heard you were gonna be in town, I needed some time to think.”
“You heard I was gonna be in town? Who the? Ahhhhh.” Damn that woman.
“She called me in the middle of the night, told me where you were staying and stuff. I don’t know why, really.”
He’s acting just like he did that night at Buckley’s. I should too. Focus, Chrissy! Be cool, stay interesting, channel beautiful. It worked for you then.
“I’m sorry, she shouldn’t have done that.”
“So…why?”
“Why am I sorry she did that?”
“Why are you here?”
Shit, what’s my story again?
“I…umm…just doing some Christmas shopping and…felt like having a drink and…ended up here.”
Good job, idiot. It doesn’t get anymore uncool and uninteresting than that. I wonder if it’s too late to count on my looks.
“I knew you’d say something like that. I’m outta here. Merry Christmas, Chrissy.”
So much for my looks.
“Okay! Okay! Okay, that’s not true!”
I grab his hands to pull him back. They’re still as strong as ever, but there’s no trace of rock yard on them anymore.
“I’m sorry…I’m nervous, and well, you didn’t email me after I emailed you back. I thought you got scared or maybe met someone new. I guess since I don’t know which one, it’s hard for me to tell you why I’m here. I kinda have an answer for each reason.”
“You have an answer for everything, don’t you?”
Not wanting to prove him right by answering, I stay quiet.
“I never got the email.”
“What?”
“Never got it. I assumed your situation prevented you from responding. Your situation was always the reason for not getting back to me quickly.”
“Not this time, Leo. I don’t know what happened to the email, but this time there’s no situation. I promise.”
Man, those eyes.
“I know. She told me about your divorce when she woke me up at three this morning.”
There’s no trace of delight on his face. I was stupid to think he’d be happy to hear about it after all this time. Time to lower my desire-killing force shield and let him get it over with.
“Did she also tell you about the yoga studios?”
That was my attempt to recapture cool and interesting, but he shot back, “Yeah, but I already knew about those. My mom mailed me the newspaper articles.”
Wow, she’s on my team? Maybe I stand a chance here. Force shield re-activated.
“Chrissy, why are you here?”
“I don’t know how to explain it.”
“Try.”
“My friend Kelly, you never met her…she’s really sick.”
My voice unintentionally cracks and my eyes become teary as I say the words.
“She’s dying.”
He looks uncomfortably apologetic for being so mean.
“I’ve been spending a lot of time with her, well not really with her, as much as with her front porch, but the time on her porch …well, it made me realize some stuff.”
“I know about Kelly too.”
“Wow, is there anything that woman didn’t tell you on the phone?”
“She didn’t tell me why you’re here.”
Hard as it will be to receive the total rejection that’s gonna ensue after I put my heart on the line, I have to do it. He did it for me.
“Fine, Leo. Here it is. I dream about you… about us. I dream about all of the things we talked about. The conversations play over and over again in my head, they won’t go away! I dream about the way you touched me, about how you wanted to protect me…wanted to give me everything I ever wanted. I never stopped loving you and…”
“And what?”
“I’m in New York to see if we still have a chance.”
“A chance at what?”
He’s really making me pay.
“Please don’t do this. If you don’t feel the same as me, then fine, but don’t treat me like you hate me, Leo. That’s the one thing I never wanted to happen.”
Nothing but a cold stare.
“Look, I know once you end up on your bad side, it’s almost impossible to get back to good, but I’m putting myself so far out there by telling you all of this. Shouldn’t that count for something!? Jesus, I’m so afraid of--”
“Of what? Of feeling like you made me feel after I put myself out there for you? You messed with my head, Chrissy! YOU F*ckING DESTROYED ME!”
I’m not sure if it was the heads that snapped in our direction when he yelled or the pure force of his voice that made me grab my purse and run out of the bar and into the now dark and snowy streets of Manhattan.
“Chrissy, wait!”
I whirl around. Half surprised to see him coming toward me, half mad that he’s not done making me pay for what I had done to him.
“No, I knew this was gonna happen! It was a mistake to come here!”
He abruptly stops coming towards me. His feet are firmly stuck to the ground right outside of P.J. Clarke’s. Neither of us notices the dozen or so curious heads that flock to the window to watch our romantic tragedy play out in front of them.
“I never stopped loving you either.”
“You still love me?”
He barks out a noise that sounds like a mix of total frustration, lust, and anger.
“Yeah, but I don’t trust you, Chrissy!”
“Then why did you email me? Why did you make me think you still cared?”
“Because I did care, but when you never replied, I forced myself not to anymore. I’m so over all of your games.”
“I wasn’t trying to play games, Leo! I just couldn’t understand how one night with you could unravel all of my years with Kurt, and I needed time to figure it out! I didn’t know how to protect you, him and me all at the same time, so I lied, and every lie meant another lie! I didn’t want to do it, but I didn’t know how to put an end to it without something like THIS happening!”
“But you didn’t have to protect him! HE NEVER PROTECTED YOU!”
Borderline begging, “I had so much to learn, and I’m sorry that I strung you along in the process. I promise, if I could go back in time and do it all differently, I would, but I can’t!”
“You’re right, you can’t. I love you, Chrissy, and I don’t know how to stop loving you, but I’m sorry, I gave you too many chances already. I’d be a fool to go down this road again.”
“Or maybe you’d just be a fool in love.”
With snow piling on our hair and clothes, we stare at each other forever. My eyes pleading, his agonizing, and the twenty-four or so eyes inside of the bar darting back and forth between us wondering what’s gonna happen next.
“God knows how much I miss you, but now I’m like you were the entire time we were together. I’m too afraid to put myself out there, even for you.”
“Leo, please…”
“I’m sorry about your friend Kelly, it sounds terrible what’s happening to her. She’s the one you should be with right now, not here with me.”
And then he turned and disappeared into the night.
I hear a pair of eyes from the window loudly proclaim, “Damn, that ain’t right!”
Once Leo’s out of eyesight, I mentally toss my desire-killing force shield onto the snowy street, turn, and walk aimlessly in the opposite direction.
Farewell so long
‘Cause I was wrong I guess
Farewell so long
‘Cause I was wrong I confess…
All I got was just this broken heart from you
(Farewell, Rosie Thomas)