If Only (31 page)

“Dane, please get to the
point.”

“Joe and Emily are together
now.”

Uh, I can’t breathe.

“Callie?”

Joe and
Emily?

“Callie, talk to me.”

“Um ... I ...”

“Shit, I’m sorry. He didn’t plan
on getting with her, but they got close and it just kinda happened. There
wasn’t anyone else for him the whole time. It really seemed like you’d started
over again, like you made your choice.”

“No, I ... I get it. I
understand. It’s a good thing, right? Their son deserves that they try, that’s
what I would want if it was me. It’s good. Listen, I should go now.” He sighs
heavy, and I know this wasn’t easy for him, which makes what I’m about to say
harder. “Do something for me. Make me a promise.”

“What?”

“Don’t tell Joe we spoke.”
My throat tightened around those words.

“How can I not tell him? He
still cares, he’d want to know.”

“No, he doesn’t need to. Let
him focus on his family, that’s what matters. Please, you know it’d be better
this way.”

He curses on a hard breath.
“I can’t do that,” he says with finality.

“Think about it, you know it
makes sense. What good will telling him do? It’ll just stir shit up when it’s
better left at that. He’s moved on now, and in some ways so have I. C’mon,
please.”

“Fuck! Why didn’t you call,
Callie?”

“I tried, I really did.
Look, just do this one thing. It’s not for me I’m asking.”

He makes me wait for his
reply.

“Okay. I don’t like it, but
I think you might be right, no sense in messing things up. I’m only agreeing
because there’s a kid involved, otherwise there’s no way in hell I wouldn’t say
something. Understand that.”

“Thank you, Dane.”

I sit, immobile, staring at
the blank screen of my cell. When I eventually unfreeze myself, I drop the
phone on my bed and turn the radio on, to block out the outside world and avoid
my aunt and uncle hearing me. I head into the bathroom and whack on the shower.
After stripping naked, I step in under the hot spray and sob my fractured heart
out.

By the time I curl up in
bed, I’ve cried like never before and I’m barely able to keep my eyes open.
Crying is exhausting.

I feel empty and lonely. And
betrayed, though, I know I don’t have the right; Joe waited and I didn’t make
contact. It’s
my
fault. My feelings are strangely, and painfully, split
in two. On one side it seems only right that Joe and Emily create a complete
family unit for their son. On the other side, I hate myself for leaving it so
long. Now I have no choice; Joe’s someone else’s. It’s not even just
someone
else;
she’s the mother of his child. I can’t compete with that.

This is worse than finding
out that Emily was having his baby. At least then I had options, it wasn’t so
final. I regret the decision I made, I regret it with every fiber of me. I know
I made a mistake leaving for so long – I practically gave Joe away. Given the
choice, I’d have stayed his friend and remained ignorant to his feelings. At
least then I had a part of him, now I don’t even have that. Even if I were to
go back right now we’d never be the same, too much has happened and too much
has changed. I couldn’t be friends with him like I was before.

Now I have nothing of Joe.

Does it make me weak and
pathetic if everything – life – now feels pointless? The only good thing I can
take from this is that his boy deserves the chance of being part of a family.
That’s exactly what I would’ve wanted for my own kid, and that’s probably how
Joe felt. I can also imagine that with the bond he and Emily developed it was
the most natural progression into something more.

And I let it happen.

My cell phone vibrates
against the wooden surface of the nightstand. I glance at the caller displayed
and grab it.
“Su.”

“Hey,” she says, and the
softness of her tone feels almost like a hug. “Dane just called me. He wanted me
to make sure you’re okay … I’m sorry, I wanted to tell you about Joe and Emily,
but I couldn’t do it. I wanted to tell you about Saff, too.”

“We both know I wouldn’t
have let you. I know you tried to tell me about Saff. It’s okay, there’s
nothing you need to be sorry for.”

I close my eyes. I don’t
want to cry again. I don’t want to care anymore.

Joe’s moved on. Now,
somehow, I need to do the same. 

I guess we failed our test.
Clearly we were never meant to be.    

I’ve wallowed for the past couple of weeks, now it’s
time to pull my shit together and move on with my life. I love it here and work
is amazing, so, though I know I’ll return home at some point over the next year
or two, I’m staying for now.

I feel like perhaps it’s
time to meet someone. Joe has always been there in the background, which made
it harder for me to succeed in a relationship. In his absence, I’ll most likely
stand a better chance of getting it right. It’s time to try, at least. 

After countless invites on
his part, I’ve decided to go on a date with Roman. He won’t know I’ve changed
my mind, and I’m not sure if, or when, he’ll ask again. So, I’m going to take
the initiative. It’s Sunday afternoon, I’ve just attended his meditation class.
Everyone else has left – I’m taking the plunge right now.

“Hey,” I say, as I approach
him.

“Callie, you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks for
class.”

“Pleasure
as always.”

Just ask him.
Ask him
. “Um, I don’t know if you’re busy, but would you like
to go for fruit and herbal tea?”

He looks at me, pauses, and
then a slow smile tugs at his lips. “Sure, why not?” Okay, so it isn’t exactly
a date, but it’s a start. It’s the best I can do at this point, I’m so damn
nervous.

As we walk into the café,
stupid, unnecessary thoughts are running through my head. It’s at the forefront
of my mind that I haven’t been close to a man, in any way, in over a year –
almost fourteen months to be precise. I know that’s hardly forever, and I’m
jumping to silly conclusions, it’s only tea for crying out loud, but I can’t
stop the thoughts.

We sit at a corner table,
and though I could so easily do it now, I’ve decided to hold off on the date
talk. Yes, I’ve lost my nerve. I never used to be so self-conscious, or this
lame, but there you have it – it is what it is.

As always, we laugh and talk
about things ranging from irrelevant to important. Mid conversation, Roman
leans toward me, from across the table, and whispers, “So is this like a date?”
I can tell he’s joking, so I giggle. He always makes me laugh. Still at a
murmur he says, “Seriously, though, does this mean you’re ready to let me take
you out?” He’s looking me in my eyes, his ocean-blue gaze the most intense I’ve
seen from him so far, but with a hint of his usual friendly affection. 

I shift forward and whisper.
“I think so, yes.”

“In that case, how about
coming to a music festival with me on Saturday? Some of my pals will be there,
including Jerry and Veronica – the two you met a few months back. It’ll be kind
of a group thing, but we’ll get to hang out together, also.” I know he’s trying
to make my first date with him easy, this is typical Roman.

Now I’m really glad I’ve
taken a couple of weekends off from work; I started to feel burned out and
being so over-emotional had me close to the edge. I feel great today, though.

“I’d like that, it sounds
fun. Where is it?”

 I haven’t been to any kind of music event since
the Electric Daisy Carnival, in L.A., over a year ago. I love festivals and
street fairs, so Roman’s invite is perfect.

****

Last night I got my hair done, it’s now white-blonde
with a mix of pale pink and baby blue highlights. I decided a while back that I
wouldn’t cut it at all for the time I’m in Arizona, my own little hair project.
It’s since grown past my shoulders and the blunt brow-skimming bangs are gone
and instead frame my face, reaching my cheekbones.

Once I’m ready and dressed
in a short, white tube dress and flip-flops, I pack some boots, jeans and a
jacket, just in case I need them. If we’re out late the temperature will drop.

I’m waiting for Roman to
arrive and the fluttering in my stomach has started. Even though I’ve known him
for about a year, have seen him many nights of the week and consumed hundreds
of café mocha’s with him, the date scenario is making me nervous.

I realized when I was
getting ready that I’ve never been on a date with Joe. As the thought came, I
pushed it to the back of my mind. I’ve spent the entire morning rejecting
thoughts of him. My plans with Roman seem to be stirring things up, and it
makes me wonder if Joe found it easy to move on from me. I hope not.

When I hear the Kombi pull
up outside, I go out to meet Roman. Hah! He only goes and lets me drive the
damn thing. Man, I’d have been happy to have this journey alone as our first
date. We travel with the windows down, enjoying the breeze as it passes
through, and
Kid Rock
plays in the background.

“Didn’t I tell you we’d look
good in here, side by side, your pretty hair blowing in the wind?” He laughs,
snapping away at me with my camera. When he made that comment I never foresaw
it coming into reality. Life is funny like that, but I’m happy to be here with
Roman, and he’s gorgeous in his long, loose-fitting beige shorts, white v neck
T-shirt and flip-flops. As nervous as I was earlier, it’s impossible not to
feel comfortable with him.

“You so did,” I agree,
easily. “You continue your reign as the King of Awesome. Keep up the good work,
Roman.”

We arrive at the park at the
intended time. Numerous music stages and food and beverage tents are spread
across the large open area. It’s busy, but Roman and I sit with his friends not
too close to the entertainment, so we have a nice amount of space. It’s not so
loud here, either, allowing us to talk. We’re sitting on blankets, drinking and
eating food we all brought as a contribution to lunch. Well, they all brought,
Roman insisted that I didn’t need to. I did bring some beer and lemonade,
though, I wanted to offer something.

It’s a great atmosphere and
the sun feels good, with a thin spread of cloud across the sky. At this time of
year, in southern Arizona, it’s a nicer kind of hot and not blazing like it was
as recent as a month ago. I can hear a man’s voice talking through a
microphone, on the stage closest to us. The music starts, I don’t recognize it,
but I don’t mind, we’re in conversation anyway. Roman’s friends are cool, I’ve
met two of them before, but there are four others. Thankfully, the only couple
is Jerry and Veronica, so it isn’t awkward.

“You okay?” Roman checks on
me.

“Yeah, I’m good.” I smile
back, surprised by how comfortable I am with this.

“Let’s go dance, sugar.” He
takes hold of my hand and leads the way.

The stage closest to us has
a band performing cover versions of old Rock and Roll songs;
The Beatles’
Love Me Do
just started. We’re dancing together and it feels great to let
loose as we laugh and sing along. Rather than being serious, we’re bouncing
around like total idiots and holding hands. We chime all the way through, well,
Roman does. I hit the parts that I know, mainly the chorus. It’s not that I’m
unfamiliar with the golden oldies; I just don’t know all the words to this
particular song. Up next is
The Rolling Stones’ (I Can’t Get No)
Satisfaction.

By the end of the night,
Roman and I have danced nonstop for hours. It’s the best day I’ve had since
arriving in Arizona and it’s been a perfect first date.

When we pull up outside my
aunt and uncles,’ I’m tanned from all the sun exposure, my feet hurt from all
the dancing, and I’m tired, but I’ve had way too much fun to care about any of
those things. I’ll be asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow.

Roman walks me to the door,
and doesn’t linger. He kisses me on the cheek, his stubble tickling me lightly.
“Sleep well, sugar. I’ll call and check in on you tomorrow.” He squeezes my
hand before letting go and turns to walk back to the Kombi.

I’m already looking forward
to our next date on Wednesday. This time,
I
made the invite; we’re going
to the Arizona State Fair.

It’s Friday afternoon, and I’m on my fourth date with
Roman. We’re having a picnic in a park by a lake. I’m taking a dazzling shot of
the sun reflecting off the water, creating a gorgeous display of sparkly
diamonds. Once I’m done, I join Roman. 

He’s made a lot of effort
with the vegetarian and vegan picnic he brought. We sit on a blanket and eat
and talk, and eat and talk, the hours enjoyably passing by. Roman’s always been
good company for the time I’ve known him, but he seems to ramp it up further
for our dates. It feels more personal, too. I like that his maturity beyond
mine shows through at times, but he can also pull it back and relate to me as
though no year’s existed between our arrivals into the world. He’s also a
classic example of how a guy’s looks enhance with age, not that being forty-two
makes him old. He’s a handsome, mature man.