False Start (19 page)

"Have you made up your mind about doing that cooking demonstration with me?"

He shook his head back and forth, but said nothing.

She examined his expression. "I'll take that as a no."

He dropped his clipboard to his side and locked his eyes onto hers for the first time in a very long time.

"Why? I didn't say I wouldn't do it. I just haven't made up my mind.'"

Huzzah! A conversation.

"You never struck me as the indecisive type."

He narrowed his eyes and lifted his chin. "Oh yeah? Well you never struck me as a
"

Mattie held her breath.

Nick checked himself. "Never mind."

"What? As a what?"

He turned his attention toward his gym bag and said, "I'll see you Saturday."

Mattie pressed her lips together and would've said something, but thought better of it. He wasn't interested in her, and that was that. Was she surprised? No. Was she disappointed? Hell, yes.

But, as Claudia was so fond of reminding her, "What more could an allegedly married woman expect?"

Maybe she imagined that something more was developing between them. Maybe the way he was making her feel about herself was spilling over into some residual gratitude that she mistook for something more. Maybe she'd quit her job and come clean.

Yeah and maybe the Cubs will win the World Series.

On the morning of the 10k, Nick rattled off the exact same advice that he had given to Mattie for the 5k, minus the smiles, minus the face holding, minus all warmth whatsoever. After depositing her at her start corral, he vanished into the crowd of runners. She wondered why he even bothered coming at all.

While alone in the crowd, Mattie was heartened by the fact that everywhere she looked she saw Team Plate Spinner shirts, hats, and shorts.

Before the starting air horn went off, she hopped up on a curb and turned to rally her team.

"Hey Team Plate Spinner! Who's a winner?" she shouted as loud as she could.

After the crowd shouted a mixture of "me" and "I am" in reply, she yelled, "Ya know why?"

Hundreds of men and woman shouted all around her, "Why?"

"'Cause you're a
spinner
!"

Again, the crowd thundered with cheers. On the opposite side of the road, she could see Charlie Clark clicking away with an enormous zoom lens affixed to the front of his camera. Nick was nowhere to be found.

Feeling like the coolest person on the planet, Mattie slipped on her sunglasses and got into position with her Team Plate Spinner peeps. When the blast of the air horn pierced through all other sounds, the runners poured across the start line, heading north on Columbus Drive. The air, still on the brisk side, was perfect for a race along Lake Michigan.

During the third mile, Mattie swept by a water station and grabbed a cup, splashing some in her mouth before crushing it with one hand and tossing it to the curb like a pro. By mile five, she opted for a sport drink station, downing as much as she could while jogging; the rest dribbled down the side of her face and chin. When she finished the sixth mile, the muscles in her legs began running out of gas, and she was starting to feel disoriented.

Following along with the pack of runners surrounding her, they headed south on Michigan Avenue for a few blocks before turning left to ascend the slope on Roosevelt Road that marked the southern border of the expansive Grant Park. About half way up, she was desperate to lay her eyes on the finish line.

Where is it? How much farther?

Slowing her pace, she panted to no one in particular, "I can't do this."

"Oh yes you can," said a woman twice her age jogging beside her wearing a hot pink Team Plate Spinner tank top. "Come on. Don't give up now. We're almost done."

Mattie looked up and there it was—the big beautiful finish line. The two women turned left onto Columbus Drive and started down the straightaway.

Sure enough, there was Nick, just on the other side of it, staring at his stopwatch.

When he looked up and spotted her, he let it dangle from his neck. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he bellowed, "Come on, Mathilde Jean, show me what you got."

She was dumbfounded.

The first thing he says to me in over two months that could pass for conversation, and he picks something he knows will piss me off?

The next thing she knew she was charging over the finish line and blowing right passed him. Charlie Clark couldn't click his camera fast enough.

Making her way straight to the table covered with water bottles, she uncapped one and kept walking through the chute, not looking back. She went directly to the gear check tent to pick up her things, leaving Nick in her wake.

All around her, runners were celebrating with their friends and families, enjoying the cool breeze coming off of the lake, hugging, taking pictures, laughing, drinking, and eating. After posing for several selfies with some of her jubilant teammates, she waved to others who greeted her as they passed by.

Music coming from speakers mounted on old-fashioned coach lights in the park started playing a popular love song that prompted several couples to start dancing all around Buckingham Fountain. Mattie stood watching the spectacle, feeling accomplished, but empty and alone. She tried to remember which lame excuse she had given Lester for her family's absence this time around. Was it an out-of-state soccer tournament or an in-law's birthday party?

I've told so many lies, what's one more?

She took one last swig of her water and started walking toward her train station.

A few weeks later, Dianne informed her that Nick had finally agreed to co-host a cooking segment. And she handed Mattie a check to cover roughly two months' worth of rent.

Looks like I won't have to sell my ring, after all,
was her first thought.

Her second was,
So why am I so bummed?

"I'm at the age where food has taken the place of sex in my life. In fact, I've just
had a mirror put over my kitchen table."

– Rodney Dangerfield

On Memorial Day, Chicago's lakeshore was abuzz with concerts, newly opened beaches, and family picnics. People came out in droves to welcome summer in the city.

But all Mattie wanted to do was fall asleep on her couch.

It was ten in the morning. She had gotten up four hours earlier to meet Nick at Lincoln Park Zoo where he said little, but handed her a blue rental bike and a helmet. From there, she followed him up to Sheridan road, then all the way down to Burnham Harbor and back. Doing her best to look at anything besides his backside for the duration, she thought of how cold he had become toward her over the last four months and wondered how different things might be between them if she had simply told him the truth.

Still, given that they would be co-hosting their first-ever cooking demonstration that might actually air on their local news affiliate later in the week, she would've thought he'd at least try to make conversation.

From what she could gather from Nancy Braley, they'd be supplementing her series on skinny comfort food by making a healthy meatloaf. It was Dianne's idea, but when Mattie found out Nancy booked the studio with the one-person kitchen in it, she grew suspicious. All it had was a five-foot long food prep counter with a chopping block, a range and an adjoining sink behind which was a working wall oven and a fake kitchen window. When Mattie called her on it, Nancy, mocking all things coy asked, "Oh, are you cooking, too?"

After her shower, Mattie recalled their exchange as she opened all of the windows in her apartment. Mocking Nancy, Mattie made a face and repeated, "Oh, are you cooking, too?"

She flopped on her couch, enjoying the breeze. Just as her eyes were starting to close, her phone rang. She picked it up and looked at the number. With a groan, she draped an arm over her eyes and answered.

"Hey, Claud. What's up?"

She was accosted by her sister's, slightly congested, maternal scolding. "Mat, where have you been? I've been trying to call you for two hours."

Mattie sat up. Clearly aggravated, Claudia sounded like she had been crying.

She gripped her phone tighter. "What's wrong?"

"It's Aunt Viv. She died during the night."

Stunned, Mattie had trouble getting the news to register in her brain. "What?"

Claudia spoke quickly, speaking in staccato sentences.

"Linda just called. Said they had dinner last night. Aunt Viv seemed fine. Went to bed earlier than normal. Said she felt like she was coming down with something. Linda found her this morning. Thinks she either had a stroke or heart failure. She'll let us know about arrangements."

Mattie felt like the floor had opened up and swallowed her whole. Having already lost a parent, the thought of losing the next best thing, even if it was in the form of an overly critical, sometimes callous aunt, was still heart wrenching.

"I don't know what to say," she thought out loud.
"I know, right? She was the only one there for us after Mom passed." The words caught in Claudia's throat. "Do you want to come over?"

Mattie swallowed hard. "Sure, yeah. I'm on my way."

She called Dianne who gave her the rest of the week off and pledged to postpone the cooking demo. Mattie started to text Nick, but decided to call his phone instead, certain that the sound of his voice would bring her some small degree of comfort.

After four rings, it went to his voicemail. While she couldn't keep her voice from breaking up as she left her message, she assured him that she'd meet up with him the day after the funeral.

On the train ride to Claudia's, she replayed all of the wonderful ways Vivienne had stepped up and taken over as mother to her two grieving nieces, opening her home to them, and making sure they felt safe and secure.

Two days later, she sat alone on a settee at the funeral home before the visitation had started. Her cousin, Linda, fifteen years older, sat down beside her and hugged her tight. "You were always mom's favorite, you know."

Mattie blinked back the tears. "I never told her."

"What, honey?"

"That I loved her."

Linda didn't let go. "Don't worry. She knew. You were the only one who could get her to laugh. Remember? When we were all in the kitchen making chocolate chip cookies and we completely forgot to add the flour to the batter? Or when we were baking, I don't remember what, and the broiler caught on fire?"

At this Mattie started laughing. "And she said not to use the baking soda to put it out because she was hoping insurance would pay for a new oven?"

"Good times," Linda chuckled.

Mattie nodded in agreement.

"Those are the memories that will get us through this."

Four hours later, when Nick arrived with his parents to pay their respects to their former long-time neighbor, he scanned the crowded room for Mattie. He had no idea what he'd do if he saw her. All he knew was that his parents insisted he join them. His mother called as soon as she got the news. In fact, he was on the phone with her when he saw Mattie's number pop up on his phone.

When he listened to her message, it took everything in him to not rush to her side.

But that wouldn't be appropriate considering she's a married woman and all, would it?

His suspicions of her marital status grew with each passing day.

She listed a woman named Claudia as her emergency contact.

She never mentions her husband or kids. Ever.

She rarely wears her wedding ring anymore.

Straightening his tie, he watched as his mother got in line to pray beside Vivienne's casket, while his father stood nearby, chatting with several other men from their neighborhood.

After picking up a prayer card, Nick made his way to Linda. He hadn't seen her in years.

Taking her hand in his, he said, "I'm so sorry for your loss. Your mom was a wonderful woman."

Linda tilted her head at him. "I'm sorry, and you are…?

"Nick. DeRosa. You used to babysit my brother and me. My folks are, well,
were
neighbors."

"Oh, of course I remember you," she exclaimed as she threw her arms around him. "You're a lot taller than I remember, though. How are your parents?"

"They're here, actually." He pointed them out in the crowd.

Linda nodded. "So you must know my cousin, Mattie, right? She came to live with us when her Mom passed, remember?"

Here we go.

Nick took a sharp breath. "Yes. I remember Mattie. Is she here?"

"No. The poor kid was beat. I sent her home about twenty minutes ago. I can tell her you stopped by, though."

"Oh, don't worry about it," Nick assured her. "You've got enough on your mind."

Linda gave him an appreciative smile.

It's now or never, dummy.

"So, tell me. What's she been up to?"

*  *  *

As promised, the day after the funeral, Mattie arrived at her and Nick's usual spot at their usual time. She had barely eaten for four days, wasn't especially wowed by the sunrise erupting in spectacular fashion over the lake, and hadn't given much thought to the cold shoulder Nick had been giving her since February. Feeling truly and completely like an orphan, it was everything she could do not to lose it.