Sunrise Fires (7 page)

“That’s because I don’t fail at work.”

“Maybe you don’t fail at work because you look for ways to succeed, instead of looking for ways that you might fail. Avoiding failure is not the same as succeeding.”

“I dunno, Jackie.” She had a point, and I’d not really ever looked at it that way. I wanted success in all areas of my life, but on one side, I sought success and on the other, I hoped not to fail. Just having this reality served up to me made me feel silly for working this way and for the answer being so seemingly obvious to Jackie and likely others. “I don’t have the answers. I feel good at work,” I floundered to explain myself, “and competent. I can connect when I’m there. and with friends and family, too, I have no problems. I trust you and Talia, and I know we will be fine even if I don’t see you for months. And the kids? They are my heart and soul, always my first priority, and I don’t feel doubts or fears about my relationship with them.” I looked at my hands, and then up to her, shrugging and pursing my lips.

She shrugged back. “So where’s the ‘privately a failure’ part? All of those things sound like the woman I know.”

I swigged my beer and exhaled heavily, rolling my eyes. Jackie was asking the questions, but it was me who needed the answers. There was only one place where I felt inadequate, one place where failure always seemed imminent. “Men,” I said, as if the one word alone could explain. She shrugged and slapped her hands on the table. “I mean, that’s what I know,” I said defensively. “That was the whole answer. It is the one place in my life where I consistently fail, and it seems that the best I can hope to do is to ‘avoid failure,’ as you so eloquently put it. And Ryan is special. He is the first guy I’ve been with where I’ve not thought about it that way or at least the first guy since whenever I can remember. And goddamn it. I don’t wanna risk losing that.”

“Who says, you’re gonna lose it? Who said your relationship with Ryan hangs in the balance?” Jackie seemed genuinely confused.

My mind hurt. I knew Germany would jeopardize the one perfect relationship I’d ever had in my life. It had taken years to build this beautiful perfect thing with Ryan, and Germany threatened to take that away. Men get bored. Men leave. Men don’t generally need excuses like Germany. Yeah, Ryan was different than most, but a one-year separation is no walk in the park. I knew that if Ryan and I made it through, it would be a miracle. And I didn’t need to defend that reality to Jackie or anyone else. I eyed her. “Isn’t this a girls’ night out? This conversation is too deep to qualify to be here.”

“This conversation is exactly why I brought you out here. I wanted to loosen you up a little and talk some sense into you.” I grimaced and rolled my eyes, dropping my hands from the table to the tops of my thighs. “Look, I’m just saying, talk to him. He loves you. He loves you enough to let you go to Germany and continue your success. Maybe you should love him enough to be honest with him. Your fears are likely unfounded, but, at least telling him will allow him to tell you that himself, and maybe to alleviate some of them.” I rolled my eyes and exhaled loudly in her direction. “Fine. Fine. I’ve said my peace. But you’d be a jackass if you just let him slip through your fingers, and stupid if you try to tie him down. You guys work fine just as you are, so be at peace with it.”

“I’m presently at peace with this beer. And it looks like the band is back, thank God. Maybe they can shut you up.” I smiled and stuck my tongue out as she pushed my elbow off the table.

Chapter Seven

S
ettling into bed a few hours later, I felt relieved to find Ryan there. I didn’t expect him to have left, but somehow, every day that I found him still here, I felt a sense of muscular release and an emotional sigh.

Our sheets were soft and satiny, a high thread count and years of wear had made them feel buttery smooth. I delighted in the sensation as I slid across from my side of the bed and snuggled into the warmth of his side. He stretched and slid an arm out. I accepted the invitation and laid my head on his chest. His arm curled around my back and slowly stroked my hip. “Hey, babe. Didja have fun?”

“Sure. I had a good time. Jackie’s really good people.”

“Good…I’m glad.” He reached up and stroked my cheek, his hand coming to rest again on his chest as his breathing deepened and he drifted back to sleep.

I felt at peace here in his presence. Even in the stillness of the early morning hours, lying next to Ryan was my most harmonious place. I didn’t want to go to Germany without him. I didn’t want to let go of this. I didn’t care that it wasn’t fair that he would have to give up his friends and family and quit his job. I wanted to be enough for him. I knew it was asinine and unfair, but I didn’t care. The crying child inside me wanted to bring him, her harmony, her peace with us. The crying child inside of me was a demanding and somewhat selfish little so-and-so. Today would have to be the day that Ryan and I would talk, and I’d make my decision. I would tell him how I feel and we’d figure it out, or we wouldn’t. Otherwise, at some point, I’d lose both this Vegas job and the Germany one, and that would be an even worse conversation.

I wrapped my arm around his broad chest and massaged his side as I drifted off.

*   *   *

The shrill ring of someone’s cell phone was a rude awakening a few hours later. “Mine or yours?” Ryan’s voice did little to soften the sound.

Barely functioning, I mumbled, “I dunno, but somebody needs to change their ring tone.” I didn’t even move toward my phone.

“Not mine,” he announced.

The ringing stopped.

“They’ll call back,” I said. “If it’s important, they’ll call back or leave a message.” I peeked one eye open to see him walking away. Squeezing my eyes shut again, I called after him, “Where’re you going? Come back to bed. I don’t have enough energy to chase you…” The room was far too bright this morning, a feature that I usually loved about this house. The master bedroom faced southeast allowing just enough light from sunrise to shine diffused through the sheers in a way that made everything look airbrushed. Normally, it made the room feel heavenly and made everyone in it look like an angel. But today, I wished for heavy drapes with vinyl linings so that I could block out the bright beauty in favor of a dungeon’s lighting.

After a few moments, Ryan came back into the room. “Can’t a man go to the bathroom? Geez.” He settled back under the covers, leaning, seated against the headboard. I squirmed over to his lap.

“I missed you,” I whined like a two-year-old.

“I was only a few steps away.” He scratched and rubbed my back, firmly applying pressure in all the places my sore body needed.

“I’m hung-over, and that distance seemed like…like…as far as…Germany…?”

His hand paused briefly and then resumed its massage. “Hmmph. Germany, eh? So then, finally, we can talk about it?”

I rolled onto my back, keeping my eyes closed from the brightness. “Meh. Maybe…” I peeked at him again. He had slid down onto his side and was propped on one elbow looking at me. I stretched, and one naked breast sprang loose of the warmth of the covers, immediately angry at the cold air and tensing into a tight little peak.

He covered it with a warm hand and massaged it. “Someone doesn’t like the cold.”

I chuckled, ending my stretch prematurely. “Well, it’s a good thing you have mittens for hands then, isn’t it?”

He kissed me tenderly. As we pulled away, I dared to open one eye in a squint.
Yep, angelic
. I closed my eye again and thought of everything that one glimpse had shown me. He looked amazing in the morning. His five o’clock shadow had filled in even more and given him a distinguished scruff that I wanted to scratch. His eyes were smoky and warm, still too sleepy to be bright, and his naked shoulders and chest begged to be touched and kissed. He spoke again, “So, then… Germany?” I was still distracted by my own thoughts of how he looked, and with his hand still massaging my breast, I was even more distracted.

I took a deep breath. It was time for this conversation. I couldn’t procrastinate any longer. I rolled toward him and scooted into the shadow of his body, feeling the warmth of my own breath bouncing off his chest and back onto my face and neck. I curled my head so that the top of it was against his chest, creating a space for my warm air to circulate between us, and creating a safe place to put my words. I couldn’t bear to look at him.

“Germany,” I began.

Pulling the pillow under the side of his head, he wrapped his arms around me and completed my cocoon of safety. “Germany.”

“I love you, Ryan.”

“I know.”

“And I don’t want to lose you.”

“I’m gettin’ that.”

“And I want success, I suppose.”

“Mmhmm.”

“But I don’t want to lose you.” He stroked my hair and rubbed my shoulder. “If I go to Germany…” my voice started to crack. I stopped to breathe and tried to control my tears.

“I love you, Jen. You won’t lose me.”

“I’m afraid.”

“Afraid of what? I really don’t understand.”

I pushed away from his chest and looked at him, his arms still bracing me. “I want you to go to Germany with me.”

“Jen…” He looked baffled and stumbled over his words. “I…I…I can’t. You know that. I mean…my family is here…and my job.” He squinted at me, almost scowling. “What—?!”

“Do you want me to go because you’re ready for us to end?”

“What!?” He released me and sat up.

“Ryan, I just…I’m so fucking afraid. And I can’t even find the words, and I feel like you think I’m stupid, and I just wish things could stay how they have been for these past three years. And Germany changes everything. And by everything, I mean these three years are all I get with you. It means I chose Germany, and that means I didn’t choose you. And if I didn’t choose you, then…” I had picked up such speed as I went that I was out of breath. I stopped, gasping and spluttering, tears spilling out. Much more quietly, I began again, “I am afraid that if I don’t choose you, you’ll find someone else who will.”

He sat there in stunned silence, looking at me, watching me cry and try to regain composure. His eyes were a mixture of confusion and something else I didn’t recognize. Maybe he pitied me? He took a deep breath.

“Germany seems to mean an awful lot more to you than I ever anticipated. It’s no wonder you’ve been nearly two months brewing this conversation.” He sounded like a chastising parent, and I resented his tone.

“It does mean a lot. It will likely mean everything.”

“Did you consider asking me how I feel about it?” I lay back flat on the bed, staring at the ceiling, jaw set, arms folded across my chest. “Well…did you?” he pressed.

“Too afraid,” I whispered, feeling emotionally raw and vulnerable.

“What?”

I looked at him and scowled, “I said I was too afraid, all right. Fucking scared. Fearless at work and an imp at home. Okay?! There, I said it. Are you happy now?”

Ryan giggled. “Yep. Happy as a clam.” He slid back down onto the bed next to me, propping himself on his elbow again. He cupped my chin and drew my gaze toward him. “Listen here, my scared little imp.” He kissed me. “I love you. And Germany is nothing but a place. And in that place, you’ll find more success. I want you to shine. You’re brilliant at work. And clearly, they need someone like you there to take the German sporting goods market by storm. I’m proud to be with someone so successful. And when you’re gone, I’ll be bragging about you the whole time.”

“And what about us?” I looked down at his chest.

“What about us?”

“Why won’t you come with me?”

“You know the answer to that. Is it really fair of you to expect me to traipse over the globe after you? I have a job here and a life. My family and friends are here. Just as I want you to have success and happiness in your life, I want to find that in my own life as well. And that life is here. And in a year, when you get back, I will still be here, still loving you, still proud of you, still wanting to be with you.”

“But I’ll miss you,” my eyes searched his for reassurance.

“And I’ll miss you, babe.” He drew me into his chest and held me close. I entangled my legs in his and tried to lose my body inside his. “I’ll miss you a lot,” he said. We lay in silence for long minutes. I wept silently.

*   *   *

The call that had come that morning had been Dullberth again. I finally called him back and accepted the job in Germany. I spent the next month in a flurry of training my replacement and getting ready to go; making sure I had my passport, and that the offices in Germany had everything set. Did I have an apartment? Was there a company vehicle? What did I need aside from my bags and my passport?

And I made sure to spend time with those who mattered to me.

I started with my best friend, Talia.

I took a weekend trip to California to see her, and as my plane touched down in central California, the months that had passed since I’d last seen her suddenly felt like years. As I walked through the airport, making my way to baggage claim, my heart hastened along with my steps.

She was standing by my baggage conveyor, five foot six and with an attitude that made her seven feet tall. We’d met more than a decade ago in a class on developing successful business training strategies. The class was taught poorly and dragged on miserably. It was nearly unbearable, so much so that we built six months of a relationship during the three weeks we spent in Detroit attending it. We had similar work ethics and similar views on personal accountability. And we both loved Italian food. We did our assignments in tandem, and then searched Detroit for its redeeming qualities. Talia was one of the first women I loved and accepted in spite of our vast differences. First, her salsa music was so abhorrent to me that I graciously offered to drive whenever we went out on the town. Secretly, I was hoping that being the driver meant that I had more than a fifty percent say about what was played on the radio. Talia saw things in their objective reality, whereas I always added an emotional ‘human factor’ when I analyzed the same problem sets. She charged me with being blinded by emotion while I jovially called her heartless. She was stoic, strong, and unapologetic while I was strong, independent, but hoping to find friendly footing with everyone I met. Our differences were many and yet… we worked. We loved and respected one another wholly and even sometimes joked that if it weren’t for the lack of sexual interest, we’d be married.