Sweet Imperfection (8 page)

Even though he knew she worked in Manhattan, he found himself taking walks down 4th Street whenever he had a free moment. He never ran into her, and he wouldn’t have known what to say if he had. She was clearly done with him. And he deserved it.

He sighed and pulled his focus back to the built-in bookshelf he was designing for a client in Prospect Park. His plate was full; business was good. He’d been terrified to take the leap and open his own design-and-build workshop, but, so far, it was working out. If his business kept growing as it had been, he’d have to hire an apprentice of his own soon.

His thoughts, as ever, turned back to Emma. Was she getting quotes from someone else to do the work in her brownstone? God, he was such an idiot, he told himself for the millionth time. He’d been so close to something great with her, and he’d fucked it up.

It’s better this way
. He grunted as he hoisted a cherry wood board onto his worktable. It was his mantra. His depressing, hollow mantra. Because
this
wasn’t better than anything.
This
sucked.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he fumbled in his haste to grab it before it went to voice mail.

The screen slowed his heart rate. Just Cory.

“What’s up, man?”

“Kicking ass and taking names, the usual. Friday night, and Lizzie’s working late. It’s beer o’clock, buddy.”

Nate checked the time and was surprised to find it was nearly seven. He’d been working steadily for twelve hours.

“Yeah, sounds good. Sammy’s?” he asked, naming a bar they frequented a couple of blocks away.

“How about Tilly’s?” Cory countered.

“The Irish place on Union? Okay. Give me thirty minutes.”

After a quick shower to loosen the day’s dust and sweat from his body, Nate headed out. He was starving and hoped Tilly’s wouldn’t be busy. He wanted a hot meal and a cold beer and some mindless conversation about sports with his friend.

***

Cory was at the bar, chatting with the bartender, a bottle in front of him. Nate smiled when he saw Cory slip the bartender his business card.

“Trolling for clients at bars now?”

“Hey, he asked me for some investment advice. Everyone should have a shot at reaping the rewards of the economic recovery,” Cory said.

“So you’re one of those bankers with a heart of gold. Oh, wait. Those don’t exist,” Nate teased.

“Hey, you make fun, but I haven’t done too badly with your nest egg, have I?”

Nate had to admit he hadn’t, and he trusted Cory with more than his money.

“This time, it’s you who looks like shit,” Cory observed as he pushed a menu toward his friend.

“Thanks,” Nate said dryly before glancing at the menu and ordering.

“How’s business?”

“Good, actually. I’ve been putting in some long days.”

“Screw your days. I want to know about your nights. How’s it going with Emma?”

Nate took a hard swallow of his beer and coughed. “What do you mean?”

“Man, don’t hold out on me. I saw you at the reunion. You looked freaking happy and couldn’t stop glancing over at her. You said the two of you were hanging out, and I’m giving you some credit for sealing the deal already. Doesn’t she live around here? You guys could be neighbors.”

“I didn’t realize you were such a detective,” Nate said. He took a steadying sip as Cory waited with uncharacteristic patience for him to go on.

“Okay, yes, we hooked up at reunion. Things were going well. Then she told me something I didn’t want to hear, and I kind of overreacted and stormed off. We haven’t spoken since.”

“Damn. That explains the mopey attitude. What are you waiting for? Call her.”

“I have called her. I called her and texted her, and she’s ignoring me.”

“That’s rough. Well, there are plenty of women in this city waiting for someone like you to take them home. You gotta open your eyes to the buffet that is New York.”

“I don’t want a buffet. I don’t think I should be with anyone for a long time. This whole thing has made me realize I’m even more screwed up than I thought, and I’m not good for anyone. I’m going to work, focus on the business, and that’s it.”

Cory slammed down a fist on the bar, making cutlery and glasses jump. “Fuck that!”

“Whoa, dude—”

“No, Nate, I am sick of your self-indulgent shit. I was there when you married Alison. I was happy for you, but I could tell she wasn’t the right girl for you. You never had half the spark in you for Alison that you have when you talk about Emma. There’s something wrong with that.”

Nate started to protest, but Cory plowed on. “When Alison did what she did and things ended, I was happy because it meant you could find someone you really fit with. Then I watched you spend a year ignoring everything except your work, and, believe me, I know about doing that. I can tell you, man, it’s no way to live. I work hard, but life wouldn’t be worth living without Lizzie by my side.” Cory’s voice softened at the mention of his wife. “This is the first time in forever I’ve seen you open up to feeling anything about someone else, and it’s amazing because I can tell this girl is good for you. You’ve given up before you even gave it a real shot. What is wrong with you?”

Nate stared in shock at his friend. Cory was a ball buster by nature, but Nate had never realized the extent of his friend’s insight and supportiveness. He was touched.

“You think she’d still want me after I screwed things up?”

“If she’s smart, she’s going to grab onto you and not let you get away with any of this self-pitying shit. Yes, Alison screwed you over, but you’re better off without her. Stop thinking of yourself as broken and start thanking your lucky stars fate is giving you a chance with a woman who could be everything to you like Lizzie is to me.”

“Damn, Cory, you’re a real romantic son of a bitch, aren’t you?”

“Call me Cupid,” he cracked. “Now drink your beer and celebrate. The Yanks are slaughtering the Sox.” He raised his bottle to the screen showing the game behind the bar.

Nate laughed and drank to that.

Emma scanned the dim interior of the French bistro around the corner from her office. A single elegant woman at the bar was holding a glass of champagne and speaking in French with the bartender, a young man who was clearly captivated by the conversation in his native tongue. She grinned, and her heart lightened.

“Mom.” She approached Juliette Delvaux and was wrapped in her mother’s strong embrace. She blinked away the tears that sprang into her eyes. Sometimes there was nothing better than a hug from one’s mom.

“Hello, beautiful girl,” Juliette said, kissing the cheek of her only daughter. Emma smiled. Her mother had always used that pet name, and even though Emma was in her thirties, it still tended to embarrass her when they were in public. Besides, in Emma’s eyes, her mother was the most beautiful woman in the world. Well into middle age, she’d kept her thick black hair long, and it was now twisted up into a chignon. Her violet eyes stood out on her oval face, and though she was over sixty, she looked much younger. Emma exclaimed over her mother’s new drop earrings and how well she looked, even though she’d spent the day in airports, airplanes, and taxis, making her way from coast to coast.

“When I don’t travel with your father, I indulge myself,” Juliette confided as she bid
adieu
to the disappointed bartender, and they took seats at a corner table. “I always forget they won’t seat you until your whole party is here, so I got started on the bubbly without you.”

“I’m glad you did. Are we celebrating something?”

“Getting to spend three whole days with my daughter isn’t enough of an excuse? It’s been too long since you’ve been to Palo Alto, but it’s always nice to have a reason to come to New York.”

“I gave my big presentation this afternoon, and I think it went well, so that does call for champagne.”

They ordered, clinked glasses, and fell into rapid conversation about everything from family news to her mother’s latest initiatives at work. They ate slowly as they talked. It was hard to imagine they had so much to catch up on, considering they spoke at least a couple of times a week by phone, but, for Emma, there was no substitute for the comfort of seeing her mother in the flesh.

When Emma’s exquisite chocolate cake and Juliette’s traditional crème brûlée had been presented with a flourish, they settled back in their chairs with an espresso for Juliette and a hot tea for Emma. Only then did Emma’s mother raise the topic of the reunion.

“And tell me about Weston. You didn’t really share how it went.”

Emma had glossed over the weekend when she’d spoken to her mother earlier in the week, not sure how to explain what had happened with Nate. Knowing she was going to see Juliette shortly anyway, Emma felt it was better to get her perspective in person. She’d been thinking about him all week, against her better judgment, and she needed another opinion.

“It started off not that well. It seemed like everyone was there with their spouses and kids, and it was good to see a few of them, but, in general, I felt like all my classmates had moved on with their lives, and I was still stuck in this post-college twilight zone.”

“Oh, honey,” Juliette said, “you were probably the most beautiful, successful woman there. I’ll bet none of them own their own homes or run entire creative departments at ad agencies.”

Emma smiled at Juliette’s predictable defense of her daughter’s life choices.

“Maybe not. But I wasn’t in a great place emotionally. And then I ran into an old friend.”

Juliette’s raised eyebrows spoke volumes.

“Nate Hirsch. You might remember him? He and I were friends during college, but we lost touch after graduation.”

“Was he the young man with the rather large hairdo?”

Emma laughed. “Yes. You’ll be happy to know that he’s shorn his locks and grown up quite nicely.”

“I see,” Juliette said knowingly. She had never been squeamish about her daughter’s sex life.

“We went to see a movie. And I thought the attraction was all one sided—I mean, we were always just friends. But then he kissed me.”

“Go on. This crème brûlée is divine, by the way.”

Emma helped herself to a taste and moaned her agreement. “I’m ordering that next time.”

“So what happened?”

“I was a little shocked. It was an amazing kiss. Almost too good, you know? I got scared, and I sent him away.”

“Oh, dear.”

“Of course, about five minutes later, I came to my senses and went back to his room, and we, well, we took things to a different level. Then we spent the entire next day together. We had so much fun. We have a lot in common. He’s a woodworker and offered to come look at the brownstone and give me some help with it. He’s smart and creative and so sweet and affectionate, and everything was like a dream.”

“Sounds wonderful,” Juliette said, “but maybe too good to be true. What happened?”

“He told me about his ex-wife. He’d been married, and he’d wanted kids—he’s so cute with kids—and she got pregnant and had an abortion. It ended their marriage, and he’s still getting over it, I think.”

“Oh, honey,” Juliette said. She’d understand what that meant to Emma. Unfailingly supportive, she had been one of the few people to whom Emma had disclosed her decision all those years ago.

“So I thought I should tell him because things were going great but so fast, and I didn’t want there to be any strangeness between us. He didn’t take it so well.”

“I’m sorry.”

“He was kind of a jerk about it, actually, but I think he probably reconsidered because he tried to get in touch with me that night and the next day. I was too upset to respond, and he hasn’t tried to reach me since. That was Sunday. And I want to forget about him and move on— God knows I’ve done it before. But somehow it’s different this time. Why can’t I say good riddance?”

“It sounds like you connected with each other pretty fast and pretty deeply.”

“I thought we had, but how could he get so ugly when I told him I’d had an abortion?”

“How did you think he would react?”

“I don’t know. I thought maybe he’d accept it happened in the past, and it has nothing to do with us.”

“Honey, you might not realize this, but I think it has everything to do with you. I’ve watched as you dated a string of men who were simply not good enough for you, yet you took their rejections and failings so personally as if there were something wrong with you. When will you understand that
you
are the catch? You had an abortion—it was the right thing to do at the time, and you did it. It wasn’t easy, but you are so strong. You thrived. You’ve done spectacularly well in your professional life. You’ve created a wonderful home for yourself. You can’t let the past hold you back from the rest of the things you want in your life. Now if this guy is going to balk the first time you get real with him, you are better off without him. However, I’m getting the sense that you need some closure after what happened. Maybe you should call him and at least have a proper good-bye.”

Emma took in her mother’s words and let them marinate. While appreciating them, she’d always taken her mother’s supportive comments and self-esteem-boosting rhetoric with a grain of salt. Of course, her mother would say positive things about her; she was her mom. Emma took a look at her life, from the high-powered, high-paying job she excelled at to her beloved brownstone to her friendships and sturdy relationship with her family. She was lucky in lots of ways. She had so much love to offer the right man. Maybe Nate wasn’t that guy, but she could see now that she wasn’t a failure in the eyes of her classmates, in the eyes of her mother, in the eyes of herself, just because she still had some things in her life left to figure out. Wasn’t that what life was about? Constant discovery and learning about oneself? She’d been afraid that she’d never get to those checkboxes on her list of life accomplishments, but she realized there would always be new boxes popping up, waiting to be fulfilled. She wouldn’t arrive at her destination when she met her future partner and started having kids. The journey would just be continuing in a new direction.