Going Down: The Elevator Series (22 page)

I didn’t know how much longer I could keep my composure. I wanted to cry and eat ice cream out of the carton and force affection on my cat. I wanted Maggie to come over and comfort me. I wanted everything I couldn’t have.

This seems to be a pattern of late.

I picked up my bag from my desk. “All that’s happened is I’m shifting my priorities back in place. I have a meeting in midtown. I will probably be out the rest of the day. Please don’t forget to get with accounting on the Sharky’s campaign.”

I almost made it out the door without hearing his voice again.

“You don’t have an appointment today.” The fact that there was no emotion behind his voice gutted me even more.

“I don’t tell you everything, Cole.”

“Clearly.”

His last comment was barely above a whisper.

***

I fell apart on the subway ride home. I broke a heel during my walk up and could barely get my key in the door while hiccuping. What really let me know I was in bad shape was that Leroy willingly sat on my lap and let me pet him for hours. Neither of us moved until long after the sun went down.

I called Maggie a few times and left unintelligible voice mails. Every time I would start to compose myself, I would remember that I eventually had to go back to work and face the same issues I ran from today.

I dreaded Cole’s call or text, and simultaneously got more upset that he hadn’t called or texted. It was a vicious circle jerk. I wanted to either rewind to before the bottom fell out of my life, or skip ahead to when it stops hurting. I had to settle for pulling the blanket over myself and drifting off into a fitful sleep with Leroy still perched on my lap.

***

The next morning, I was a zombie going through the motions of getting ready for work. Leroy hadn’t complained about the low level of his food, so I knew I wasn’t in a good place. For some reason, the city seemed to have more rats and trash and pigeons today. The subway ride was particularly onerous. I needed to be around fewer people. Was an apocalyptic event too much to ask for?

I was back to taking the stairs instead of the elevator. I doubted I would ever ride an elevator ever again. I prayed I made it to work before Cole, but clearly no one upstairs was taking my calls anymore. There was Cole, sitting at his desk, stoically working away. I wanted to comfort him, and I hated that I couldn’t. I wasn’t even sure I could speak to him without falling apart again.

I took a deep breath and gave it my best effort. “I… have a lot of work to get done. Please e-mail me if you need anything.”

“Cici—” He stood up.

I ran into my office before he could start another word.

Well, this is awful.

I closed my door, thinking it would be easier if I couldn’t see or hear him. All my options were varying shades of horrible, so I wasn’t sure it mattered.

***

The rest of the week continued much the same. I trudged up the stairs, closed my door, and spoke to no one. I didn’t even see Maggie at all. There were no calls, no texts—nothing. Cole might have tried to speak to me in the mornings, but I ducked into my office before he could get a word out. Seeing his face was torture enough; I couldn’t bear to hear his voice. I was getting no work done, and I had no idea what Cole was doing since I was avoiding him like my sanity depended on it. Because it did.

Evenings were spent with Leroy, forcing my affection on him. I could hardly differentiate myself from the cartoon depictions of crazy cat ladies. I was going through ice cream faster than the store could restock it. Those serving sizes were preposterous. It probably didn’t help matters that I was eating with a large wooden cooking spoon. My sushi pajama pants smelled like cat anus and Chunky Monkey. Even Leroy had begun to recognize the opening credits for
The Notebook
. Twice I caught him trying to scratch the words “help me” into the window with his coke nail. His patience was wearing thin.

I counted the minutes until the weekend. I couldn’t stand being so close to Cole and Maggie, and not speaking to either of them. Being alone was better.

Until I was alone.

Mr. Fletcher from downstairs banged on his roof five times to let me know my incessant pacing was in no way endearing. I ate more ice cream to fill the time. I was beyond restless. I found myself daydreaming about visiting the truck stop with Maggie. I would’ve given anything to go back there. I ate even more ice cream to freeze out those thoughts. Leroy threw up a hairball that looked a tiny bit like Cole’s big toe. I ate ice cream.

***

What I needed was a distraction. I logged into Facebook to see how many of my casual acquaintances from high school had announced their engagements or pregnancies.

Not you, you ice cream-eating cow. You’re going to die alone with Cherry Garcia matted in your hair.

Felicity had sent me a friend request three days ago.

I pulled out the tub of ice cream.

***

Whoever said “Time heals all wounds” was a lying McLiarpants. Every day was worse than the last. I got to the office hours early on Monday, hoping I could be the first one in. I had woken up on the couch with the ice cream spoon stuck in my hair. There was no one I needed to impress anymore, so I had pulled it into a sloppy bun and started what would undoubtedly be a dreadful day.

Work, Leroy, and Ben & Jerry’s were all I had anymore, so I needed to focus my attention there. Judging from the fit of my pants, I needed to focus more on work than ice cream. I managed to forget my crippling guilt for a couple of hours while I threw myself into a new campaign for a cosmetics line. That reprieve ended with a knock on the door.

Just be quiet and pretend you’re not home.

I wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone today. Or any day in the foreseeable future, for that matter. The visitor knocked again. I thought about crawling under my desk.

The door cracked open.

I need to start locking that.

“Cici, can I come in?”

If I had to make a list of all the people in the world, in order of how much I could handle talking to them right now, Cole’s name wouldn’t even be on that list.

I opened my mouth twice to answer him, but no sound came out. I couldn’t recall having this chronic issue before I met him. Cole’s face belied no emotion, which was somehow worse than any of the alternatives. I knew I looked like a mess, and I wasn’t sure how much longer I could pretend I wasn’t.

“Cici, I just wanted to let you know that Felicity had her baby Saturday. She named her Ava.”

He stood there, waiting for a response, but I didn’t have one. All I could think about was that I wish he would quit saying my name, and how we would never take that road trip to see Ava. I had lost more than Cole; I had lost his family, too. I thought I might be sick.

“Oh.” I had so much more to say, but none of it came out.

For a hint of a second, I saw that familiar intense look in his eyes that he reserved just for me. But then it was gone. “Well, I thought you might want to know, but maybe I was wrong about that.” Almost under his breath, he mumbled, “I’ve been wrong about a lot of things lately.”

I should’ve let him go when he turned to leave, but I was too selfish. I wanted his presence and hated it at the same time.

“No… I’m glad you told me. How are they doing?”

He smiled a little, but it wasn’t his usual smile.. “They’re doing great. Do you want to see the pictures my mom sent?”

I don’t have enough ice cream for this.

What I meant to say was,
No, seeing pictures will just make this infinitely more painful, and I’m afraid I’ll never recover
, but what I actually said was, “Yes.”

He pulled out his phone while walking to the other side of my desk. His closeness was shorting out my brain.

He swiped though the pictures, but all I could see was everything I wanted but couldn’t have. “This is Ava sleeping. Well, obviously. She looks just like Felicity when she was a baby. Mark is going to have his hands full.”

I swallowed about eight times, trying to rein in the tears. I didn’t want to cry in front of him. “She’s beautiful. Thank you for showing me.”

“Cici?” I wasn’t capable of describing the look on his face. All I knew was that it caused my stomach to twist. This was too much.

I looked back down at the notes on my desk, pretending to add to them.

That didn’t stop him. “How long are you going to do this?”

“Do what?” I think that was the verbal equivalent of curling up into a ball. I didn’t even sound convincing to myself.

“Lock yourself away in your office. You don’t have to do whatever this is you’re doing. Plus, it’s starting to smell in here.”

What I wanted to say was,
I’ve been an idiot about this whole thing. Please forgive me and help me figure out how to make it right
. Instead, I said, “Please go.”

“Is that really what you want, Cici?”

No.

“Yes.”

My mouth is a jerk.

He listened to me instead of reading my mind. I curled up on my little couch and cried for the rest of the day, forgetting my resolve to focus on my career.

***

I started going to different stores to buy my ice cream. I couldn’t take the sympathetic comments from the cashiers at my usual market anymore. A girl can’t even buy two cartons of ice cream, four candy bars, tissues, two bottles of wine, and some cat food without Erma telling you how much he’s not worth it.

He was worth it, Erma. Now please just let me take my diabetes starter kit in peace.

I knew I couldn’t have Cole, but what I wanted more than anything was to fix things with Maggie. I had been alone plenty of times, but I had never been
lonely.
It was impossible to be lonely with Maggie Vincent in your life. I called her every evening, but I always got her voice mail. I hadn’t seen her at all in the office when I dared to venture out of my cave for bathroom trips. She had every right to feel betrayed, and I would never be able to undo that.

On Friday, I knew I had to do something to avoid a repeat of the previous weekend. I couldn’t handle that level of wallowing, and Leroy made it quite clear that he had reached the end of his rope as well. I knew I had hit bottom when I found myself watching YouTube tutorials about learning how to knit so I could make matching sweaters for my cat and me. Something had to change. I lived in one of the busiest cities in the world; it was dumb to sit at home while it passed me by. I wrote out a schedule for myself.

No more wallowing.

Saturday morning, I woke up and wiped the dust off my running shoes. I ran nearly a mile before tripping over a bicycle and twisting my ankle. At least I burned off a little of the Rocky Road. I showered and dressed like a normal human being. I even brushed my hair. I was going to do all the touristy stuff I never did unless my parents were visiting.

I took the ferry out to The Statue of Liberty, proudly wearing my green foam souvenir crown. I walked down Fifth Avenue and purchased a pair of shoes and a skirt that I most definitely needed. I took myself on a romantic carriage ride through Central Park. In the evening, I took the subway down to Times Square and reminded myself of why I never go to Times Square. Dating myself was kind of fun. I was quite a catch.

While I was already out, I decided to swing by Gramercy Park. It was a little out of the way, but it wasn’t like I had anything else to do. I had been neglecting Gene, and I hoped he was still there. I brought him a red velvet cupcake as an apology.

Gene was in his usual seat, playing what appeared to be an intense game of chess with another older gentleman. I quietly set the cupcake box down next to him.

“Miss Cici! You turn up like a bad penny! I thought I had lost you for good. Come sit next to an old man and let me absorb some of that youth.”

I sat down next to Gene, whose chess opponent ignored me completely. “How have you been, Gene? Staying out of trouble?”

Gene moved one of his pieces and removed one of the other man’s from the board. It looked like Gene was winning. “Oh, you know me. I can’t resist a good bit of trouble when I find it.”

I patted him on the back. “That’s what I like to hear. Keep up the good work.”

“How’s that beau of yours? Is he still treating you right?”

Something caught in the back of my throat, and I had a hard time swallowing. “Oh, that’s not… he’s um…”

Gene saved me from stammering further. “Say no more, Miss Cici. Any man who would pass up on you doesn’t deserve you. Good riddance to him!”

I still couldn’t swallow the growing lump in my throat. “I am… um… actually the one who ended it. It was me.”

Gene took his turn on the board again before speaking. “Well, then he must not have been good enough for you. There are always other fish in the sea.”

But I want the Cole fish.

Tears welled up in my eyes, despite my best efforts to keep them at bay. “No, he was plenty good enough. It’s more complicated than that.”

Gene held up his hand to the other man, signaling he would have to wait to take his turn. “Miss Cici, could I give you some words of wisdom from an old man who’s seen more than his fair share of life?”

I sniffled and hiccuped at the same time. “I would love some wisdom right about now.”

He took my right hand and enveloped it with his own timeworn hand. “Miss Cici, I’ve been through two wars. I’ve buried my wife and one of my children. I’ve lost friends and jobs and about as much as one person can lose in this life.
Life
is complicated. If you can find someone who wants to walk with you through all of this mess, then that’s the most uncomplicated thing there is. All the rest of it is just noise.”

***

I returned to my little apartment tired, but feeling better than I had in a couple of weeks. I went straight to my TV stand and grabbed
The Notebook
. Leroy made a beeline for the fire escape.

“It’s all right, buddy. We don’t need this anymore.” Dropping the DVD into the trashcan, I bade it farewell. “I’m sorry, Ryan Gosling. Our love was never meant to be. We’ll always have
Crazy Stupid Love
.”