Falling Angel (17 page)

“With Alicia.”

 Ben nodded. “That whole mess convinced me that I’d be hard-pressed to find someone worth giving up my freedom for. I love the idea of family, of having a wife, and kids. But it’s not easy making compromises and sacrifices every day for the greater good. Maybe I’m too selfish to let go of the life I have now.”

“That’s everything on my list,” Cara said.

“Let’s go to the deli and get sandwiches,” Ben suggested.

After loading the groceries in the Highlander, they took their sandwiches across the street to a small park and sat on the grass.

While Cara nibbled her sandwich, Ben wolfed his down and lay back on the grass, closing his eyes as the sunshine bathed his face.

Cara knew she should leave well enough alone, but tact and diplomacy had never been her strong points. “Why didn’t things work out with you and Alicia?” she asked.

Ben opened his eyes, looking surprised but not put out. “After I moved back to the States, I hit a rough patch, financially speaking. It took me a while to get established in Seattle, make connections in the art world, and start getting commissions again. I couldn’t afford to go out to dinner or hit the clubs every weekend. I didn’t care. Living in Africa, I gained a whole new perspective on what it means to be really poor, and I realized how little I needed to get by. Alicia wasn’t thrilled by my lack of money or my new philosophy. Eventually, it drove us apart.”

“You mean, she wanted someone who could show her a good time?”

“Alicia is beautiful, talented and ambitious. But she’s also one of those people who equates wealth with virtue. She tried to convince me that I should stop trying to make it on my own. Started bringing home flyers and job listings from various downtown graphic design and marketing firms. In her opinion, it was too risky for me to remain independent. She felt that I needed the stability of a fixed income. When I told her that those kind of jobs would never satisfy me, she suggested that I could keep doing my own projects on the side.” Ben sat up, clearly agitated by his own story. “And everyone knows what that means. Squeezing a couple of hours of painting in between weekend errands and business trips. Turning into a Sunday painter, like Tom.”

“She claimed she was interested in my happiness, but Alicia’s never been interested in anyone’s happiness but her own. We began to argue constantly. After a few months, she moved out and told me she wanted to start seeing other people. So that was that.” Ben picked up his soda bottle and drained it. “I learned a lot from the experience, though.”

“Such as?”

“That I’m better off on my own. Focusing on my work and not getting too enmeshed in other people’s lives.”

“Well, I can’t say I agree with your logic. But I do understand you better,” Cara said.

“How about you and that musician you were dating back in Illinois? Isn’t he a large part of the reason you’re afraid to trust me?” He winked at her.

“Perhaps we both need to look at some of our prejudices,” Cara conceded. “Maybe the coping mechanisms we came up with to save ourselves from more heartbreak are actually holding us back from fully enjoying the present moment.” She looked at her watch. “I didn’t realize how late it was!” She stood up, brushing crumbs off her lap. “I better get back.”

They gathered up their belongings and walked together back to the car. “Thanks for coming to see me,” Cara said.

“Anytime.”

“This was a lot more fun than grocery shopping alone.”

“You’re right. There are some definite upsides to getting enmeshed.”

Cara looked at him in astonishment. Ben, too, appeared disconcerted by his own remark. He stepped backwards from the car, giving her a half-wave and a sheepish grin.

Cara was amazed. Could noncommittal Ben have just referred to the two of them as enmeshed? Looking at him, a feeling akin to homesickness flooded her body. She didn’t want to leave him. She would have liked nothing more than to play hooky and take off with Ben for the rest of the day. “Want to do something later this week?” she asked, surprised at her own boldness.

“Sure. I’ll call you tomorrow,” Ben said.

.     .     .

Ann was already ensconced on the couch when Cara got home that evening.

“Hey there, social butterfly,” she said with a smirk.

Fighting her exhaustion, Cara smiled pleasantly. “Hey Ann.”

Pulling her hair from its pony tail, Cara kicked off her shoes and sank onto the couch with a sigh.

“Out late last night?” Ann queried.

“We missed the ferry by about five minutes and had to wait for the next one.” She closed her eyes. “To tell you the truth, I’m beat.”

“I don’t know how you have the energy to juggle men the way you do.”

Cara opened her eyes and looked at Ann. “What are you talking about?”

“Your date tonight, silly.”

Cara was irritated by Ann’s smug tone. “I don’t have any plans tonight other than to cook some pasta, have a hot bath and go to bed.”

“Whatever you say,” Ann smirked.

The door buzzer sounded loudly. The two women stared at each other.

Ann grinned knowingly. “Aren’t you going to get that?”

“Fine,” Cara snapped, getting to her feet.

She activated the downstairs door release and pulled the door to the apartment ajar. Ann took up a position in front of the door, and Cara sat in a kitchen chair nearby. They listened in silence to the tramp of feet up the stairs. A moment later, a well-groomed head appeared in the doorway.

“You must be Ann,” David said pleasantly, holding out his hand.

“Nice to meet you.” Ann shook his hand, turning with a triumphant look to Cara. “Look who’s here for you!”

David turned to Cara.

“Sorry I’m late. Something unexpected came up at work. I guess Ann gave you the message?”

Suddenly, the events of their previous date flooded back. Cara remembered her promise to go out with David to use his free meal certificate on Monday night, a promise she had forgotten in the flurry of dealing with the dead car battery, seeing Ben again, and riding the roller coaster of intense emotions and experiences of the past 48 hours.

“Hi, David,” she said faintly.

He took in her rumpled appearance and pursed his lips. “Do you need a few minutes to freshen up?”

Grateful for the momentary reprieve, Cara jumped up. “Yes! I’ll be right back.”

Retreating down the hall to the relative privacy of the bathroom, she heard Ann saying brightly, “Can I get you something to drink while you’re waiting?” as though she’d morphed into a 1950s hostess at cocktail hour.

At least Cara understood now why she’d been smirking and making stupid remarks. This whole situation must have delighted her to the core.

The sound of Ann’s laughter floated through the half-open bathroom door, and Cara felt ashamed of herself for thinking such uncharitable thoughts about her roommate and friend. How could Ann know that David was the last person she wanted to see right now?

Pulling a brush from the drawer, she ran it through her hair. Her curls, unusually unruly tonight, formed a blonde halo around her face.

Even the knowledge that David was in the apartment made her feel guilty, as though she were somehow going behind Ben’s back. Which was truly a ridiculous notion. She wasn’t doing anything wrong. It isn’t as though she and Ben had promised to date each other monogamously. This was romance in the modern world, post-ritual and post-rules. If Ben knew what a quandary she was in over this quasi-date with David, he would probably start teasing her mercilessly again. She thought of the way his green eyes crinkled when he laughed. Thought about telling him about it later. She could just imagine what Ben would think of David, with his corporate climbing, sharp suits and country club aspirations. “He’s a perfect match for you,” he’d say with a hint of sarcasm. “Your knight in shining armor. Go for it, girl.”

Cara inspected her face critically in the mirror. Smudges of fatigue were visible under her eyes and her cheeks were drained of color. She applied foundation and blush to bring a glow to her pale face and hide the dark circles under her eyes. Using a dark brown pencil, she outlined her eyelids, and then applied mascara. A touch of lip gloss and she was done.

In her room she changed quickly into a fresh white shirt and a denim skirt that ended just above the knee. She grabbed her jacket from the closet and put on a pair of brown leather boots. From her jewelry box, she took out her favorite ring; a turquoise set in a platinum band, and slid it onto her ring finger.

At the door to her room she paused.

Maybe she should cancel their dinner; tell him she had a headache. Why drag things out, when she really wasn’t that into him?

But David was already out there, waiting for her. It would be rude to back out now. Besides, it wasn’t really a date. David had merely asked her to join him for a free meal.

Part of her wanted to go out with him again, to do a thorough ‘compare and contrast’ in her head. To determine whether to pursue a relationship with David, who met all her dating criteria, or get further involved with a man who was the antithesis of all she had claimed was important.

Cara’s eyes turned again to the statue of the flying woman by her bed. What an apt metaphor for my life, she thought; constantly torn between taking a risk and playing it safe. How amazing that Ben was able to see through me so easily after just one encounter. But did the sculpture also serve as a warning that her involvement with Ben Kilpatrick was akin to flying too close to the sun? Was she going to get burned?

Chapter Sixteen

David drove them to the restaurant in his car, a shiny silver BMW 325Ci convertible with luxurious leather seats. The evening was fairly warm, and he kept the hood down as they purred through the evening traffic.

“It’s my present to myself,” he said. “184 horsepower, 6 cylinder, 2.5 liter engine with rear wheel drive and an optional 5-speed manual transmission. Pretty sweet, huh?”

“It’s very nice,” Cara said. “I only wish I’d brought a headscarf and some oversize sunglasses. You could put the top down and I could look like a glamorous movie star.”

David laughed. “You’re funny. Actually, the car’s an early graduation present to myself, for getting through the MBA program. I figure owning a luxury vehicle will whet my appetite, give me a taste of things to come, you know?”

“You must be doing pretty well for yourself already, to afford this.”

David was silent for a minute before confessing, a bit defensively, “My parents helped out a bit. They’re very supportive of my career.”

“I’m sure they are,” Cara said, hoping she hadn’t offended him.

She thought about Ben at the wheel of his beat-up old Ford pickup, extolling the virtues of the utility vehicle and its rugged endurance. What would he think about luxury vehicles whetting a person’s appetite for material things? He’d probably consider David some kind of capitalist fat cat, out to exploit the masses. She wondered briefly about Ben’s political affiliation; she’d never thought to ask him. If she had to guess, though, she’d guess liberal, left-wing. Perhaps he was even a Socialist, she thought with a thrill of excitement. Given Ben’s Bohemian lifestyle and his time spent in France, she wouldn’t be surprised. Cara smiled secretly to herself. She’d never gone out with a bona fide Socialist before. In fact, the whole idea smacked of something slightly illicit, like smoking in the girls’ bathroom, or getting a tattoo. The kind of things that Cara Walker had never done, and would never dream of doing. David, on the other hand, was most likely a staunch Republican, given his choice of career, the fact he considered Donald Trump a personal mentor, and his addiction to the nightly financial report on Fox TV. She smiled to herself at the contrast between them. She probably couldn’t have found two people more diametrically opposed to date had she tried.