Better Than None (12 page)

 “I just, I had to distance myself if I was going to be able to do
my job. And then…” Again, he shook his head and this time, drained his drink.
He looked at me with glassy eyes, “and then of all people, my wife gets
cancer.” He laughed a tight laugh. “And the kicker? Know how she found it?”

I shook my head, almost afraid to hear. His voice was both angry and
sad.

“The guy she was fucking found it, that’s how.” He laughed once. “Some
other guy felt the lump in
my
wife’s breast. How’s that for karma, huh?
I’m the fucking oncologist and I don’t even find my own wife’s cancer.” He
signaled the waitress and ordered another scotch. I’m not sure what I was
imagining, but this evening was not turning out at all like what I’d
envisioned. I didn’t have a clear picture, but hearing about his wife, his
wife’s cancer and her lover were definitely not top of mind. Perhaps I didn’t
have it wrong for all those years, because if this was what people talked about
on dates, I hadn’t been missing out.

 “Want to know why he found it and I didn’t?” The way he asked me,
it was like he was threatening me to answer, daring me. So I just shook my
head.

 “Cause I hadn’t touched her in months. Probably more than a year.
And she goes and gets fucking breast cancer. And the best part? Cause, yeah, it
gets better, Steph. Guess, go ahead.”

I shook my head again. I was actually scared. Scared and sad. I felt
sorry for him, which was hard to do considering what a jerk he usually was.

“The best part of this incredibly fucked up situation? She goes to
another oncologist. She doesn’t even come to me!” He shook his head again,
smiling that tight smile. “It wasn’t bad enough that she was cheating on me,
but then she has to stick the knife in further and see another fucking doctor.”

The waitress brought his third drink, and I thought,
I wish he wouldn’t
drink any more
, but the way this evening was going, there was no way I was
going to say anything.

“And you know what? I don’t blame her, for any of it. I don’t blame her
for the affair. I hadn’t been there for her. I honestly don’t know why she didn’t
just leave me.”

When he said that, I couldn’t help but wonder why
I
wasn’t
leaving him. I think because now, this man who had been such a prick was
vulnerable, human like the rest of us.

 “She was too afraid to come to me, as a doctor, not even as her
husband. But she was too afraid that I’d blame her for getting cancer.”

I didn’t want to be there. I thought I wanted to get to know this man,
but I didn’t want this. He was too damaged, and I had my mother to deal with.
There was too much shit. I thought I wanted him to talk, I thought I wanted
there to be more than just sex, but this was too much.

 “Why are you telling me this, Brad?” I asked softly, afraid to
say anything, but couldn’t think of what else to say.

He shook his head again and drank his drink and shrugged. “I can’t win
with you, can I?”

 “What does that mean?”

 “I’m trying to open up to you, and you, you act like you don’t
want to hear it.”

 “Don’t you dare pull that. Up until an hour ago, all we had was a
physical relationship, and as far as I could tell, it worked, kind of, for both
of us. So don’t you dare blame me for not being able to follow along whatever
the fuck it is that’s going on in your mind.” This time, it was me who paused,
took a deep breath and took a healthy sip of my cocktail.

 “I don’t know if you’re trying to clear your conscience by
telling me, or what.” I shook my head with disgust. “Why couldn’t you have just
left well enough alone? Huh? Two fucked up people screwing while their loved
ones battled cancer. Wasn’t that bad enough? Why’d you have to go and ruin it?”
Even as the words were coming out, I knew they weren’t right.

“I’m trying to connect with you. I’m trying to show you why I am the
way I am.”

“You’re not trying to connect, you’re dumping your shit onto me and
hoping I’ll just excuse you when you’re a dick. It doesn’t work like that.”

“And you’re some relationship expert?”

I laughed cynically. He had me there. Who knows, maybe this was normal
date conversation. I surely wasn’t the arbiter of that.

“No, not at all. I’ve never had a relationship with anyone other than
my mother. And she’s dying. And you’re the one who’s supposed to save her.”

Brad blanched. Maybe that was a low blow.

I tried, but this wasn’t what I’d signed up for with Brad. I had the
guy who I could talk to if I wanted, and that was Marty. I couldn’t do this
with Brad. Brad was for fucking. Nothing more. I didn’t want to be his priest
or his shrink, hearing his confession. I didn’t want to see him as human. I
didn’t want to care about him. And most of all, I didn’t want to get attached
to him. I knew enough to know he was not a nice man. Maybe once, a long time
ago, maybe back when he started his practice he was a man who became a doctor
because he cared and he wanted to help people. But that wasn’t the man I met.
And that wasn’t the man I was fucking. If he became human, then what? I didn’t
have an answer to that, but what I did know was that I couldn’t stay there any
longer.

There wasn’t anything left to say and something told me that if I
didn’t leave then, the evening would only get worse. So I folded my napkin, set
it on the table, grabbed my purse, and walked out.

When I got in my car, I started shaking. My heart was pounding so hard
I felt like it was going to beat out of my chest. I was paralyzed. I couldn’t
move. I worried if I started the car, I might drive it off a cliff. I just sat
there, gripping the steering wheel, resting my head on the thin, hard rubber
waiting for my breathing to calm down. Finally, after a few minutes, ironically
thinking back to the way Brad had counseled me the last time I hyperventilated,
I felt my heart beat slow and my breath return to normal. I leaned back and
just as I was about to turn the key, a knock on my window made me jump.

 “Jesus!” I screamed. I rolled down the window. “What?!”

“I’m in no shape to drive.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I called a cab, but when I came out here to wait, I saw you still
here.”

“And you saw that as a sign?” I asked sarcastically and he smiled.

“That and a free ride.” I was about to say something but he continued.
“And a chance to apologize.”

“We’re better when we don’t talk.” I pleaded.

“Don’t you even want to try?”

“Try what?”

“Something new.”

“You have no idea.” It was scary how those two words hit so close to
home.

“Then tell me.”

“I don’t know how to.”

“I don’t either.”

I laughed. “That’s becoming painfully clear.”

“Come on, Steph. What do you have to lose?” He sounded so pained.

Such a simple question. I had seen my mom lose herself over and over in
the men she dated. Each time she hoped they’d complete her, fill whatever void
it was in her that only men validated. It wasn’t just that. I knew I wasn’t my
mother, though I had her genes and was obviously still terrified that nature or
nurture would take over. It was also that emotionally, I was already stretched
so thin taking care of her, I just didn’t have anything left to give to anyone
else. Plus, I was still so insecure that it was hard to believe that he wanted
to try with me, much as I was starting to realize that I desperately wanted
someone to, I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever be.

So I had a simple answer to his simple question.

“Me.”

Thankfully, the cab pulled up at that moment and he had a choice to make,
not that I could trust that he’d make the right one, so I chose. Much as part
of me wanted to be with him, even after this awful evening, I knew I shouldn’t.

“Take the cab, Brad. Please.”

He nodded and the corners of his mouth raised ever so slightly. “Ok,
Stephanie.” Then the fucker leaned in and gave me the sweetest, most tender
goodbye kiss I’d ever felt. When he pulled his head back, he gave me that
slight smile again, knowing full well what he was doing as he turned around and
left in the waiting taxi.

****

I wasn’t going to be my mother. I wasn’t going to pine over a man. I’d
spent so many years doing everything and anything, and anyone, to ensure that I
wouldn’t do that, and now, here I was, sitting at my desk trying to focus on
all the work I had, yet my mind kept drifting back to Brad.

“Morning, Steph.” Marty greeted me breaking me out of my thoughts,
holding two coffees, two pastry bags and smiling. My eyes went from his dimple
to the coffee and back to the dimple.

It had been a while since Marty had brought me coffee. He had respected
my wishes and hadn’t pushed with asking about my mom or me and I hated to admit
just how much I missed it.

“Morning, Marty.” I smiled and stifled a yawn. “Sorry.”

“That’s what caffeine’s for. Looks like I was just in time.” He came
all the way into my office and set down the coffee. “Bagel or scone?”

I took a long sip of the coffee and closed my eyes as I felt the hot
liquid go all the way down. “Mmmm, thank you for this. And, I’m good with just
the coffee.”

“Stephanie.” He warned.

“Marty.” I smiled trying to deflect.

“You have a choice.” He said sternly and my expression must have made
it clear that I didn’t get his joke. “Whoa, Steph, I just meant bagel or scone.
That choice.”

“Oh!”

“Look, I know you don’t want to hear this, and I’ve tried to respect
your wishes and not push, but I can’t just stand by and watch you disintegrate
into nothing.”

“You think that’s what’s happening to me?” I was both touched and
offended. “Aren’t I delivering? The work’s getting done, and I thought you were
happy with it.”

“I’m not talking about you delivering on the damn accounts!” I hadn’t
yet been on the receiving end of Marty raising his voice, not that he typically
did. I think I must have visibly shuddered because he immediately softened.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. I’m just concerned, that’s all.” I
tried to jump in but he continued. “And you’re not like most of the rest of the
people here who take advantage of my open door policy. If anything, you avoid
it.”

In all the years that I had hoped for someone to see the real me, to
call me on my shit, I was starting to realize that Marty was doing just that. I
wondered if this was one of those ‘be careful what you wish for’ instances. It
felt so nice that he cared and that he saw through my flimsy excuses. But,
Marty was my boss, and part of the new me was making sure that I didn’t shit
where I lived.

“Marty, I appreciate your concern, truly. You have no idea how much it
means to me. And the flexibility you’ve given me so that I can take care of my
mom, I’m not sure what I’d do if I weren’t able to take her to all of her
appointments.”

“But?”

“But it just doesn’t feel right coming in and pouring my heart out to
my boss, that’s all. Please don’t take it personally. I’m not thumbing my nose
at your concern. I, I just have to keep work and personal separate. I get it
that a lot of people don’t. But for me, well, I do.”

Marty nodded and seemed to take it all in. “I respect that, I do. But
you hold back. You hold a lot in. And if you ever want to get it out, a
shoulder to cry on, a sounding board, I’m here. That’s all.”

“Please don’t take this the wrong way, but why do you keep pushing? How
are you so sure that there’s something there, that I need to talk?”

He took a long pause while he looked down at the floor and when he
finally did look back up, he had tears in his eyes.

“You remind me of someone I used to know. And I didn’t push with her.
And now I don’t have the chance to. So, indulge me a bit.” This time, it was
Marty who seemed fragile. He left the bag on my desk, gave me a sad smile and
then turned around to leave.

I was surprised I didn’t lose it right then and there, but from
somewhere deep, I kept it together, smiled and thanked him. Once he walked out,
I got up, quietly closed the door and then came back to my desk and wept. I
tried to cry silently knowing how porous the venting system was, but there were
a few hitches and then my nose blowing that I’m sure Marty heard. I didn’t want
him to hear me crying. I didn’t want him to think I was weak. And at the same
time, I desperately wanted him to open the door, pick me up and hold me in a
tight hug telling me everything would be ok even when I knew it wouldn’t.

****

From practically my first day working for Marty, he’d been nothing but
supportive. I wasn’t yet ready to lean on him the way he suggested, but I’d
been so caught up in my own shit that this was the first time I realized that
perhaps he could use someone to lean on too. The next morning, as usual, I got
to work before anyone, and this time after Marty and I wished each other good
morning, he went into his office and a moment later came back to mine, grinning
from ear to ear holding the coffee I’d left on his desk.

“I went with the old standby of an everything bagel, but if you want
the scone, I haven’t taken a bite yet.”

He just kept smiling as he leaned against the doorjamb. After a long
sip of coffee he looked down at the scone and said, “Tell you what. Let’s mix
things up. This might be a little radical for you,” he paused and raised his
eyebrows as if he was about to challenge me. “But how about we split them. Best
of both worlds.”

“Whoa, Marty, that is radical!”

“That’s me, ‘Radical Marty’.”

“Totally Rad Marty. I bet that’s what they called you in the 80s.” I
teased and motioned for him to sit down. He furrowed his brows skeptically.

“So, why the sudden about face?” He asked as he bit into his half of
the bagel and cream cheese leaving a tiny dollop on his top lip.

“Um, you’ve got…” I pointed to my lip and he smiled before he licked it
off. Seeing him do that made me blush. I hoped he didn’t notice and I quickly
took a sip of coffee with the hopes of hiding my face.