Sex and the Social Network (20 page)

If ever God or the Universe was trying to tell me something, it was that night.

I wanted to quit while I was ahead, so I cashed in my chips. I turned to hug Betty goodbye and to thank her for a memorable night and a very memorable lesson. She hugged me tight and then took my hands in hers.

She placed the diamond earrings in my palm. “Here, dear. You’ll enjoy them much more than I do.”

“Oh my God, I can’t take these!” My voice cracked from the impending tears.

“Yes, you can, my dear. I want you to have them. You will look gorgeous in them. Just remember: they sparkle and shine and make you look like a million bucks. But only true love can make you feel like a million bucks, the kind of love that comes from the inside out—never, ever, the other way around.

“You remind me so much of myself fifty years ago. So sweet and innocent with your whole life before you. Enjoy every moment, okay?” She hugged me again, and Walter came over and hugged me too.

Tears were streaming down my face. I wasn’t sure if they were happy tears or sad tears, but I felt incredibly grateful that I got to meet Walter and Betty and for that night. I won two hundred dollars, a pair of ten-thousand-dollar diamond earrings, and a priceless life lesson.

Every Friday ni
ght for weeks, I got lyrics of another Maria song on my windshield. I didn’t even know there were so many songs with my name in them.

“Maria” by Blondie, “Maria” by Michael Jackson, “Maria, Maria” by Santana.

It’d gotten to the point where I looked forward to Fridays after work so I could see what song was next. It was so sweet of him. I liked this Blake kid.

At first, my affair with Blake was amazing. Here was this young, hot guy who wanted to be with me. It was a huge ego boost and distracted me from my longing for Enrique, but we lived in such different worlds.

He asked me if I wanted to go surfing and to lunch with him next weekend.

“Darling, I’d love to, but you know we can’t actually be seen in public. We can’t date, Blake.”

“Oh, yeah. I guess I forgot.” He looked defeated.

I thought the affair would distract me from Zack, from my boring life, from my heart that was still bleeding for Enrique.

Admittedly, it worked for a while. I felt so devious sneaking off to Blake’s apartment in the middle of the day for a quickie. I’d pass him in the office and just say, “Hi, Blake,” my voice steady and professional.

I liked having secrets from Zack. He got to make all the decisions in our house. He chose everything, from the food we ate to when he could go golfing. Well, he didn’t have a say in this, and I liked having this freedom, something he could not dictate. Zack did not get to pick.

Blake and I even came up with a secret code. If I passed his cubicle and didn’t say “hi,” then it meant we were to meet at his apartment in twenty minutes. He had given me a key so I could let myself in if I got there before him.

Sometimes I’d get all naked and wait in his bed. I’d touch myself so I’d be wet by the time he got there. Blake was hot and hung and a very generous lover. I loved having sex with him, but after a couple months I realized I wanted more. I needed more, more than Blake could ever give me.

I wanted a lover who could also be my partner, someone who was my friend. Someone I could have lunch with in public and hold hands as we walked down the beach. Someone who I could give myself to completely, someone I loved and who loved me back. I knew that wasn’t Blake, and it wasn’t fair to keep him from finding someone who could give him what he needed too. I knew I could look and look and never find what I was looking for because all I really wanted was Enrique.

For a week after I broke it off with Blake, I was seriously depressed. I barely ate; I couldn’t sleep. The days bled into nights. I thought about calling him, telling him that I was sorry and that I still wanted to see him. But I knew that would only be prolonging the inevitability of being right back where I was: sad, alone, and lonely. How could my life be so full and leave me feeling so unfulfilled?

Talking and chatting with Tyrone had become something I looked forward to each day. It was hard to believe there had been a time when he wasn’t in my life. He made me so happy. I felt more alive than I ever had.

I had just put Arielle down for a nap when my phone rang. It was Tyrone.

“Hey, baby.” His voice always sent a tingle down my arms.

“Hey, Tyrone. I was just thinking about you.”

“You were? What were you thinking?”

“About how awesome you are and how much I love talking to you, how much I love getting your texts and emails. I missed you yesterday. It’s crazy how much I look forward to chatting with you,” I confessed.

“Julia, you are the amazing one. I can’t stop thinking about you. I don’t know what you’ve done to me, but it’s like I’m under some kind of magical spell.”

When he said my name, I could not help myself. I sighed. I was dying to see him again.

“Is your husband home tonight?”

“No, he’s away and I’m all alone.”

“Oh, Julia, I would love if I was there with you right now. After we fucked a few times, I’d love to hold you all night long.”

“That sounds heavenly.” I couldn’t believe a man who was so sexual could also just love holding me. I craved that as much as I needed the passion. I heard Ty sigh heavily. “What are you thinking about, Ty?”

“How incredible it was to be with you, a woman who could completely give herself to me. That’s an amazing gift, Julia.”

“Who wouldn’t want to do that?” I was genuinely surprised. “Ty, you make me feel wanted. I love that you have such a high sex drive. I love that you make me feel so desired.”

“Believe me, you are desired. You’re all I can think about, even in my dreams, Julia. I want you. I need you, baby.” Tyrone’s voice and words were always so full of passion. His words were not just affec
ting my body; they spoke to my heart too.

“Ty, tell me why you’re settling for someone who doesn’t give you what you deserve? The more I get to know you, the more I can’t believe that you’re not with someone who is as wonderful as you are.”

“You’re adorable,” he said, but his voice sounded a little sad.

“Ty, I want you to be happy.”

“You make me happy, Julia.”

I couldn’t say anything for a second. I couldn’t remember if Aaron had ever uttered those words. It had been a long time since a man had taken my breath away, but Ty had just done it. I had to break the intensity of the moment.

“You make me happy too, Ty.” In that moment I felt such a divide in my heart. Tyrone brought so much joy to my life, but not being with him all the time also made me feel sad. Why couldn’t I just enjoy the precious moments we had together?

I should have known that getting involved with him would complicate my life. And as much as I missed him while we were apart, he was filling a void in my life, and I started to feel whole and happy. I didn’t realize what I was missing until I actually had it.

Tyrone and I talked every day, but we were having a hard time meeting up. He was traveling a lot and Aaron wasn’t, which meant we hadn’t had sex in weeks. I was aching to see him.

Then, there was fabulous news. Aaron was up early, drinking his coffee and reading the Wall Street Journal at the kitchen table.

“Good morning.” I tried to sound chipper.

“I just found out I have to go to Tokyo. I leave Friday.” His voice was very matter of fact.

“Oh, okay. How long will you be gone?”

“For five nights. I leave this Friday and I’ll be back on Wednesday.”

I tried not to look happy as the wheels in my head started spinning about having a weekend without Aaron. “Okay, let me know if you need me to pick up your dry cleaning before you go.”

Aaron looked up from his paper and gently pushed his glasses back up. He seemed sligh
tly surprised at my offer, but I always did things like that for him. I guess he just thought the magic maid took care of all the household necessities.

“Thank you. That would be very helpful.” He reached into his pocket and took out a few hundred-dollar bills. “Will this be enough?” he attempted to joke.

“I think it will just cover it.” I smiled at him.

“Well, you take the change and buy yourself something pretty.”

“Thank you, Aaron.” I smiled and tucked the money into my cleavage. “I better jump in the shower. I have to get Arielle to school. Have a good day.”

But all I got was an “uh huh.” In a matter of seconds, I had lost him to the newspaper.

I took the fastest shower I could. I was dying to call Tyrone to see if he could come over while Aaron was in Tokyo. My niece was having her birthday party on Saturday afternoon, and my sister had already invited Arielle to stay for a sleepover. I couldn’t believe my good fortune.

As soon as I dropped off Arielle at school, I raced back to my car. My hands were sha
king when I picked up the phone to call him.

Two rings and his sexy voice was on the other line. “Hey, baby. How are you?”

“I’m great! How are you?”

“Good, baby. You sound excited. What’s up?”

My heart was racing. “So Aaron just told me he has to go away this weekend and my daughter is going to my sister’s so I was wondering if you could come visit.”

“Wow, really? You want me to come over? Would you rather get a hotel?”

“No, Ty. I want you to come to my house. I would love to make you dinner. And guess what prescription I got from my OB/GYN?”

“No shit, for real? You went on the pill for me?” He seemed genuinely surprised.

“I sure did, a month ago, so it’s officially safe for us to have sex without a condom.”

“You’re incredible, darling. I’m going to fuck your brains out. What time do you want me there?”

I squealed with elation. “I’m bringing Arielle to my sister’s around four, so how about six o’clock Saturday night?”

“Oh, baby, we should be fucking all day, every day. You are pure sex, Julia. I can’t wait to see you. I miss you so much.”

My heart skipped a beat. “I miss you too, Ty. Can’t wait for Saturday night.”

I used to think that I loved my kids more than I loved myself, more than I loved life itself. And I did … until I didn’t.

It probably hadn’t happened overnight, but that’s how it felt. One cold day, I woke up and just didn’t want it anymore. I was tired. So, so tired, like I had a hangover that radiated through my bones, through my pores. I could even feel the exhaustion in my fingertips.

I longed to be just me. Not a copy editor or a mom or a cook or a chauffeur, not a referee or a tutor or a punching bag. Being that needed was no longer exhilarating. It was sucking the life out of me, and I couldn’t do it for one more day.

Telling Zack that I needed a break wasn’t an option. He was so damn important at work, it was like the world would end if he took a day off. I knew he would never let me take time away to recharge my batteries. I arranged for the kids to spend the weekend at Liz’s house and left Zack a note that said I was going to my grandma’s house for a few days. I said she was sick, and I needed to spend some time with her. He would buy that story so easily.

My suitcase was staring at me from my huge walk-in closet. I barely remember packing, but somehow a few days’ worth of jeans, cute tops, dresses, and shoes made their way into it.

When I got in the car and turned over the ignition, the noise startled me from my daze. It was like my last chance to turn around, go back in the house, back to my life. But I couldn’t. I had to go see if my heart was right.

I put my Jeep in reverse and pulled out of my driveway. The entire way down my block, I could see my house getting smaller and smaller in the rearview mirror. It was just like my life. What was once vivid and vibrant about me was barely visible. I had become my tiny house in the rearview mi
rror.

I’d like to say that I didn’t know where I was going that day. I simply decided to take off, to just drive and let the road take me someplace. But I’ve done enough lying to the world and to myself to buy that line. I got in the car and drove up the coast. Lakewood and all of its splendor was calling my name.

I drove down the Pacific Coast Highway letting the salt air relax my cares away. The sun beat down on my car, but the cool breeze from my open window kept the interior the perfect temperature. It was the ideal day for a long drive.

On my drive, everything from Rihanna to Kenny Chesney kept me company. One pit stop, a Diet Coke, and ninety minutes later, I arrived in Lakewood. Home sweet home.

Enrique was there. I knew he was. I had just read on his Facebook wall that his mom had passed two days ago after a long and painful battle with cancer. He would be staying at her house for a couple weeks, cleaning it up and getting ready to sell it.

Calling would have been the right thing to do, but I was on a streak of doing the wrong thing. What was the point of stopping now? After I checked into the Winston Hotel, I took a quick shower. Looking in the mirror was difficult. Not because I needed some Botox, but because I didn’t feel like I recognized myself. Maria was buried under “Mama.” I needed to uncover her again.

I should have spent more time on my makeup—God knows I had more makeup than a whorehouse—but I decided to put on just the basics. Ten minutes later I had some color to my cheeks, my blue eyes looked awake, and my lips were shiny. I wasn’t sure if people were still at his house for the wake, so I put on my black dress and heels.

Enrique’s childhood home was only a few minutes away from the hotel. My knees were shaking the whole drive there. “Deep breaths, Maria, in through your nose, out through your mouth,” I repeated in my head.

The driveway was full, and cars lined both sides of the street. Mrs. Martinez had been a kind, loving woman, so seeing so many people there to pay their respects wasn’t surprising. The house looked the same from the outside. Like all the other houses on the street, it was a typical three-bedroom, middle-class home. It was painted a cheery shade of yellow; there were three trees in the back yard, bushes in the front, and a driveway to the side. It looked like his mother had replaced the roof since the last time I’d been here. I grew up just a few blocks away in a house almost exactly like this one.

I looked through the screen door to see the front door was open. Slowly I turned the knob. The house was full of people of all ages, laughing and talking about Mrs. Martinez. Her house was always open to neighbors, friends, and church members, and she was like a mother to the entire neighborhood. It was only fitting that her friends and family meet here one more time.

“Oh my goodness, is that you, Maria?” Enrique’s younger sister, Rebecca, gasped as she ran over and hugged me.

I hugged her back. “I was so sorry to hear about your mom. I really loved her.”

I looked up and there was Enrique, no more than two feet behind Rebecca. He furrowed his brow, looking confused to see me but relieved as he walked over to me.

“Maria? I can’t believe you came. How did you even know?” He hugged me tight; his arms felt so muscular and protective. I relaxed into his arms before he let me go.

“I saw it on your Facebook.”

“Oh, yeah. Duh. Wow, but you’re really here. You drove all the way here for my mom?”

“Of course I did. She was like a second mom to me in high school.”

Enrique grabbed his coat. “Hey, let’s take a walk. It’s getting stuffy in here.” He put his hand on my back and guided me out the door.

We walked down the block, and before we turned the corner, Enrique very gently took my hand in his. We walked like that until we got to the park. Neither of us said a word on the way there, but I knew where he was taking me. That was our spot in high school. That’s where things started, where they ended, and now, apparently, where they would begin again.

My heart was hurting for Enrique. I knew how close he was to his mom, how much he loved her and would miss her.

He was looking off in the distance, so I squeezed his hand to get his attention. “How are you holding up?”

He turned his face away from me before he spoke. “I don’t know. I’m still kind of numb, you know? My mom was in so much pain for so long that I thought I’d feel some relief when she finally passed. Like I’d be glad she wouldn’t have to go through chemo anymore or fake her way through a smile. But it’s not like that at all. I just miss her. I know it’s selfish, but I just wish she was still here.”

He looked back at me with tears streaming down his face. Seeing him in so much pain instantly brought tears to my eyes as well. We sat on our park bench and quietly cried together. I reached into my purse and pulled out a pack of tissues. I tried to hand one to Enrique, but he didn’t take it. He wanted to cry, and I knew how that felt. So I pulled his head in close to my chest.

“It’s okay, Enrique. Just cry. Go ahead. Let it all out.” He nodded in agreement and cried buckets and buckets of tears. I held him close, my head resting on top of his. I wanted to be strong for him, but my well was too full to keep it in anymore. The two of us sat there for at least fifteen minutes just crying, holding onto each other for dear life. At last, I felt like I had finished. I lifted my head, grabbed a tissue from my purse, and blew my nose.

Enrique lifted his head and noticed my chest was soaked.

“Oh my God, I’ve ruined your dress!” Enrique was mortified.

“Eh, you should see what I did to your head.”

We both started laughing, and it was good to see a smile on his face.

“Maria, thank you. I’ve been working so hard to be strong for my mom and my sister, my kids; I haven’t had time to cry. I really needed that.”

“See, women aren’t crazy. A good cry can be very therapeutic.”

“Apparently,” he chuckled. “So are you okay? Something tells me your crying isn’t just empathy for me.”

I choked back the tears. “I’ve been better. But that’s for another day.”

Without knowing how broken my marriage really was or how broken I was, Enrique leaned over and softly kissed my lips. I hadn’t felt this whole since we were together last year.

I started shaking. I wasn’t sure if it was the cold air or the way Enrique sent shivers up my spine, but he noticed.

“Hey, it’s getting chilly out here. Let’s head back to the house.”

I nodded, and we walked back to his mother’s house holding hands. It was the most nat
ural thing in the world. I didn’t really care if anyone saw us. Enrique was the first boy I ever loved, my high school sweetheart, the keeper of my heart. I was going to hold his hand and that was that.

Rebecca was sitting on the front porch when we got back to the house. Her eyebrows arched a little when she noticed we were holding hands, but she didn’t say anything.

“Enrique, Mrs. Lewis wants to know if she should bring more food by tomorrow.”

“Sure, tell her that we really appreciate it.”

Rebecca stood up and held the door for us. “You guys coming in?”

“We’ll be there in a minute. You go ahead.” Enrique turned back to face me. “Maria, the funeral is tomorrow morning at nine o’clock at Our Lady of Peace Church. I’ll be doing the eulogy. It would mean a lot to me and to my family if you could come.”

“Of course I’ll be there.”

Enrique reached down and quickly kissed me again. “Thanks, baby doll.”

“No problem, amor.” I turned to leave and then, just like we were eighteen years old all over again, I tugged my right ear once and placed my fist on my chest. It was our secret code for “I’ll always love you.”

His eyes welled up with tears again and then, under the fluorescent porch light, the first boy I ever loved signed to me that he would always love me too.

That night I lay in my hotel room bed replaying the evening’s events again and again. Had I imagined how tightly he’d held me while we were crying on the bench? And his lips! That anything felt so good was proof to me that yes, there was a God.

I fell asleep hugging my pillow, imagining it was Enrique. My dreams were fitful and crazy. I was running down a highway and not able to stop. Then I was in the backseat of a car that was spinning out of control because no one was behind the wheel. But I saved the best for last. Right before I woke up, I dreamed Enrique and I were making love on a tropical island and all I could see was him and a beautiful sunset in the distance. I woke up smiling to the beep of my iPhone alarm clock.

Back home, exhaustion had become a part of my daily life, working all day and contemplating my life all night. I threw on my workout clothes and headed to the hotel gym. A quick thirty-minute run on the treadmill and my head felt a little clearer. Staying in shape is the fortunate side effect of my needing to work out. I spend most of my days holding my breath, afraid of what will happen if I let go. Running forces me to breathe.

I had an hour to get ready for the funeral. I spent a little time on my makeup, put my hair up in a French twist, and arrived at the church a few minutes later. I sat in the back so I could see Enrique and his family coming in when it started.

The limo pulled up in front, and Enrique and Rebecca climbed out. Their dad had passed away many years ago, and it occurred to me that they were now orphans. Grownups, of course, but still, I couldn’t imagine that kind of emptiness.

Enrique put on his Ray-Bans and ran his hand through his silky hair. He always did that when he was nervous or contemplating something. He searched the crowd, and then our eyes met. I put up my hand in a half wave. He gave me a half smile and I smiled back, reassuring him that I was there for him.

Enrique, his two best friends, and his three cousins were the pallbearers. They counted to three and hoisted the coffin onto their shoulders. It was so hard to believe. The woman who carried him in her womb for nine months, delivered him, nursed him, fed him, loved him for thirty-eight years was gone.

They say that with age comes wisdom, but life and all of its insanity was making things har
der, not easier, to understand or make sense of.

After the priest said a few words, Enrique walked up to the pulpit with a paper. He was trembling with sorrow; the paper with his notes shook in his hands as he began to read.

Almost exactly three years ago, our family and our closest friends were in this church on a beautiful day, just like this one, celebrating my nephew’s baptism. And my mama, Angela Martinez, was the proudest abuela in the whole world.

The baptism was beautiful, and at one point I had tears in my eyes. My mom motioned for me to stop crying. Afterwards I asked her, “Mom, why did you do that? I was just happy.”

And she said, “No crying today. We’re supposed to be celebrating.”

So I know she wouldn’t want us to cry today. She would want us to celebrate her life.

She certainly celebrated her life and all those who knew her. She loved to have a good time and to spend time with friends and family. She knew how to live life to its fullest; she drank in every day and squeezed every drop out of her life.

My mom loved to travel and spent the last few years going to Europe and visiting family in Argentina. She came home with stories of her amazing adventures and showered her loved ones with gifts.

What she didn’t realize was that we didn’t need presents from her. She had already given us the best gift possible: her unconditional love. Her enthusiasm, her steadfast support of her children, her devotion to us was evident every day. No matter what was going on in my or Rebecca’s life, she was there for us.