Finding Bliss (14 page)

“Only a couple weeks left until the big test,” he said and began to eat.

“You’ll have me back in no time.”

“I’m fine, Chloe, don’t let this asshole get in your way.”

“I won’t,” I said and smiled. “How’s work been?”

He took two bites of his pasta before answering. “It’s a job.”

“Have you ever thought about what else you’d like to do?” I asked.

“I’m fine where I am.”

“No, you’re not. I know you hate working at McCutcheon, and there’s no reason you have to stay there. As soon as the bar exam is over, I’ll be back to work, and making enough money to pay the bills around here. You can take some time and look for something else.”

“I have every reason to stay there. My grandfather would be disappointed, and my father would kill me if I left, to name two.”

“Your father hasn’t bothered to reach out to you in three months,” I said. “I know you’re miserable there, and I know you could be great at something else. You need to figure out what’s going to make you happy and go after it. It’s not fair that you should be punished the rest of your life.”

He looked at me with a blank, unreadable expression. “I don’t want to talk about him,” he said, shaking his head.

“Why don’t you at least look into some graduate film classes at Columbia College or Loyola? You could take them at night if you don’t want to quit your job. Your cousin Mitch…doesn’t he work in the industry? I remember your mother saying something about him having a job in production. You should call him.”

Tyler nodded, scooped another piece of lasagna onto his plate, then pushed his plate away and looked at me, hungry for something else.

“No more pasta?” I asked.

“Stand up.”

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

“I need to finish some reading before bed,” I said even as I stood.

Tyler lifted me up onto the island and wedged himself between my legs. He pressed his mouth onto mine, and I bent forward and melted into him, losing every ounce of motivation to do anything but stay wrapped in his arms. Tyler stopped abruptly, with my legs wrapped around his torso, leaving me wanting more. “Don’t move,” he said. Holding my hands at my sides, he kissed me everywhere else. When he loosened his grip, I draped my hands around his neck and kissed him right below his ear. “I love you, Tyler.”

I
t was the morning of Friday, October 15th, and I was at work, curled up on the bathroom floor of the ladies’ room with my head in the toilet. After the second time I threw up, my brow was moist with perspiration, but my stomach felt a little better. The Illinois State Bar Examiners were supposed to post the exam results on their website at midnight the night before, but hadn’t done so. By nine I’d been awake for over twenty-four hours, spilled an iced mocha on my skirt, deleted two important e-mails, and cried in front of the IT guy. At ten o’clock, I got an e-mail alert that the results were finally posted.

I opened the e-mail and stared at the link that would take me to the test results for twenty minutes before closing the e-mail and calling Tyler.

My voice and hands were shaking. “Hi,” I said.

“What the hell, have those dickheads posted scores yet?” he asked, fully aware of my need for a straitjacket.

“I just got the e-mail, but I haven’t looked yet.”

“Well, take your time. Have a scone or two and maybe you can get around to it sometime after lunch.”

I cracked open a bottle of water and took a sip in order to tame the nausea while my head pounded like the inside of a bass drum. “I’m trying to, but I can’t.”

“Open the goddamn e-mail, Chloe. I know you passed, you know you passed; we’ve been over this. Now let’s find out together. I’ll stay on the phone, but you need to do it now.”

“Okay,” I said. “My hand is shaking so badly I can barely click the mouse. All right, e-mail is open. I’m clicking the link now. I’m into the website. I’m going to the results page,” I gave Tyler the play-by-play as I scanned through the list of names and nearly wept for the people with FAIL next to their names until I got to mine, sandwiched between Sean Carlson and Megan Cartwright.

Carlyle, Chloe: PASSED

I blinked my eyes and read it twenty times while Tyler waited in perfect silence. “I passed.”

“Shit yeah, that’s my girl!” he screamed into the phone. “I’m so proud of you! I can’t wait to celebrate with you later.”

Tears and snot and sweat and relief drained out of me as I laughed and cried and shook with pure joy. I sniffed into the phone, unable to speak.

“I love you, and I’m so happy for you. We’re going to celebrate tonight, so come straight home, okay?” he said.

“Okay,” I muttered into the phone.

“I love you, Chloe.”

I wiped my face and let myself revel in the good news for a few minutes before calling my mom.

“Good for you,” she said when I told her. “That’s great news. You told me how hard you were studying.”

“I did, yes, thank you. It means I can keep my job.”

“Thank goodness for that,” she said.

Although I never asked her for money, she was always insinuating that I would. I’d tell her I was going away for the weekend to visit a friend, and she’d say, “Well, I hope you can afford it.” Or I’d tell her that I was off to Macy’s to buy winter boots and she’d say, “I’ve been saving up for a new pair myself.” Always diverting me from daring to tap into her precious monthly stipend.

“I have some news of my own,” she told me.

I grabbed a tissue from the box at the corner of my desk and patted my nostrils. “Oh yeah?” I said, assuming she’d bought new throw pillows or the woman at the dry cleaners had cut the sleeves off all her shirts.

“I’m moving back to Florida.”

I paused. “You’re what?”

“I’m moving back to Miami to care for my brother.”

“Why can’t Justin’s wife look after him?”

“She left him.”

“When?” I asked.

“Two years ago.”

I placed my elbow on the desk and rested my forehead in my fingertips. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked, even though I knew what her answer would be.

“I did tell you,” she said, as I’d predicted.

Things would go into her head like a roach trap and never come out. And when and if her bits of knowledge did escape, she assumed I was well aware of every detail. It was pointless to argue—I knew that—but I was incapable of not defending myself.

“You never mentioned that to me,” I said.

“Well, she left as soon as he got cancer. Took his dog and never came back.”

I lifted my head for a second and rolled my eyes. “He has cancer? What kind?”

“I don’t recall.”

“Mom, surely one of his kids can help him or he can get some in-home care. Do you really want to leave your house here?”

“Florida is nice and warm, and it’s where my brother is. And so long as these people around here mind their business and don’t follow me down there, I can go and take care of my family in peace.”

There was never any point in arguing with her. Ever since I’d tricked her into going to the hospital years before, she’d given little weight to my opinions. She still blamed me for that day. For humiliating her and calling attention to her in a negative manner. For leaving her home and her belongings unattended. She would never see that my efforts were out of love, because she would never acknowledge that she had a problem. She’d forgiven me the best she could, but not completely.

“I’ll miss you, Mom.”

“You can help me pack. I could really use the assistance. I can’t trust movers to come into my home and pack everything up without stealing my things.”

“I have to work, but I can help you during the weekend if you give me some notice. When are you planning on leaving?”

“Maybe in a couple weeks. You can help me pack before then.”

“Mom,” I spoke slowly. “I’m happy to help, but you need to give me notice, and I can only help on the weekend. So please let me know what day you’d like me there.”

“All right, I’ll call you back,” she said, never keen on using her phone for too long. I’d begged her to get a cell phone, but she said they were too easy to trace.

I hung up with my mom and suppressed any thoughts regarding my obligations to her and whether this move was a good idea. Something I’d become quite adept at. My boss’s office was a floor below me, so I took the elevator down to his office and knocked on his door. My job at Goldin & Bass was contingent on my passing the bar, so I was eager to give him the good news.

“Congratulations,” he said.

“Thanks, Ron.”

“I know what a load of stress that takes off your shoulders.”

“You have no idea, well, I mean obviously you have some idea…yes, I feel like a new person,” I said, beaming.

“Be sure and let H.R. know so that we can set you up with permanent employment here. I assume you’re interested in staying?”

I laughed. I’d been working at Goldin & Bass for three summers by then, and the job market was vicious. Thousands of people standing in line for the same chance, the same handout, the same opportunity to hone their craft. And if you got out of line for any reason, there was someone behind you waiting to take your spot in an instant. Need to pee? Better hold it. Need to sleep? You’re weak. Need to spend time with your family? Well, there’s a singleton in line with no family who will work for less.

“I’m very interested in staying, yes.”

“We’re lucky to have you on board. We’ll put together a formal job offer for you and get you all set up.”

“Thank you,” I said and returned to my desk.

I breathed easier and stood straighter. My stomach, which had plagued me for months with nausea, cramping, and stabbing side pains, had finally settled.

There were two texts from Tyler when I got back to my desk.

I love you.

Come straight home after work.

I placed the phone in my purse and looked blissfully around the office. Behind me were the familiar sounds of phones ringing, faxes coming through, fingers pecking at keyboards—the sounds of freedom.

The sky was black at seven o’clock when I left the office and headed home. Tyler had insisted we celebrate regardless of the exam results, only I can’t imagine that I would’ve gone along with his plan had I failed. I grinned with excitement as I put the key in the door,
picturing balloons and flowers and champagne waiting for me on the other side, but the house was dark when I walked in.

“Hello?” I said, thinking Tyler and Grace and a gaggle of friends were hiding somewhere to surprise and scare the shit out of me.

A few more steps. “Hello? Tyler?”

I set my computer case on the floor, put my hands on my hips, and tried to decipher the emptiness before walking toward the kitchen, which was the only illuminated room in the apartment. As I approached, I noticed the desk lamp from our bedroom was sitting on top of the island, shining its light on a wooden box with a heart engraved on the top. I looked at it curiously and smiled. I flipped the wall switch and turned on the overhead lights. I took the box in my hands and opened it. Inside was a familiar, folded piece of paper.

Meet me at the lake at midnight.

I
placed the note on the counter and smoothed it out with my hands. I imagined him tearing through my stuff looking for it, and then gloating once he’d found it among my socks and underwear. That piece of paper represented the very start of our relationship, and was my first glimpse into Tyler’s affection for me. Just then I noticed another piece of paper stuck to the fridge with a magnet from a local realtor that read
DO WHAT IT SAYS
. I stood perplexed. Was he at his parents’ lake house in Wisconsin? I grabbed my cell to call him, but hesitated. If he had some sort of surprise planned, I didn’t want to ruin his fun, but I also didn’t want to drive an hour and a half to Lake Geneva if he was just trying to embarrass me by unearthing my cherished keepsake. Just then I got a text from him.

Are you home?

Yes,
I texted back.

Then do as you’re told
.

I smiled and ran to get my things. It was only eight o’clock, so I had plenty of time.

I left the house at ten thirty, yawning but excited. The drive didn’t take as long at that hour, so I stopped at the Brat Stop—known to serve the best bratwurst sandwiches north of the Illinois border—on the way there to kill some time. I was determined to follow his instructions and arrive exactly at midnight.

About five minutes before midnight I pulled into the driveway of the Reeds’ lake house. I hadn’t been there for three years, but the country air quickly awakened my lungs and welcomed me back. I stepped out of my car and looked around. Sculpted hedges led to the front door where guests were greeted with wind chimes and a doormat that read “A Step in the Reed Direction.” I scooted my bag higher onto my shoulder and rang the bell, but there was no answer. I checked the time on my phone and walked around to the back of the house. My heart swelled. The dock was glowing with lanterns and Tyler was standing at the edge of it.

He lifted his arm to wave at me, and I dropped my bag and dashed toward him.

“Good to know you can still take direction,” he said.

I stopped about five feet away from him. “I thought you’d be impressed.”

“Sit down,” he said and gestured toward the two Adirondack chairs he’d brought down from the porch.

Tyler lowered himself into one and sat perched on the edge of the chair, resting his elbows on his knees, facing me. He took both my hands in his.

“I have something to ask you, and I couldn’t think of a better place,” he started. “You are an exceptional woman, who deserves someone much better than me. But for some ungodly reason, you love me as much as I love you, and for that I’ll be forever grateful,” he said, pausing to wipe a tear from my cheek. “And if there’s a chance in hell I can make you happy, then I’d like to spend the rest of my life trying.” He pushed his chair back, got down on one knee, and pulled a box from his front pocket.

My hands flew to my mouth.