The Weight of Gravity (34 page)

He sat at the computer and started to read her letter again. 
Garner and I have started divorce proceedings,
Max read for the second time.
  It should go fast given that his partners are doing the paperwork.  We’re not contesting anything.  He’s giving it all to me – the car, the house and a sizeable settlement.  There won’t be any child support because Jay is too old.  About Jay ... I don’t think he’s taking the divorce well.  For one thing, he isn’t home much these days.  That makes me incredibly sad.  I won’t give up on him, but I also know he’s old enough to make some of his own choices, even if they’re bad ones.  Please write, Max, even if it’s just to tell me that you want me to leave you alone.  I wouldn’t blame you, but I need to hear from you. – E.

             
She was probably there, sitting at the keyboard of her computer.  He could pick up the phone and call.  It’d be that easy.  At the very least, he could write back and she’d get his note immediately.  Max decided to close the Internet connection.  He’d wait until morning to write her back.

But he was no closer to finding the courage after breakfast
the next day.  He needed a little more time to think things through before he opened the door to Erika.  He left the apartment around ten and walked to his favorite bookstore, three blocks south.

             
“My Main Man Max …when’d you get back?”

“About three weeks ago.  I’ve been too busy to come by until today, Jama
al.”

             
Max had stopped at the coffee bar on his way out of the bookstore.   Jamaal was a barista extraordinaire who made the best lattés in the New York.  They’d been friends for a long time.

             
“You’re looking like Mr. Pensive today, my brother.”

             
Jamaal also had a latent desire to be a psychologist.  Max was sure that many New Yorkers considered a visit to Jamaal’s counter as a cheap, but affective, therapy session.

             
“It’s not like that, Jamaal.  My writing is going good.”

             
“And the personal side of things, Mr. R?  That’s what I’m referencing here.”

             
“Caroline and I are dating again, if that’s what you mean.”

             
“Damn, you one brave mother to be hanging with that woman.  She’s got class, don’t get me wrong, but she’s also a whole lot of something else.  When she comes through that door my venti cups shutter, the drippers start dripping on their own, and the fashion mags on the shelves over there leap in her direction, if you know what I mean.  No one commands attention like Ms. Caroline.  I see a man of your distinction taming a woman like that, I guess.”

             
“Now you’re charting politically incorrect waters, my friend.  No woman wants to be tamed, do they?”

             
“Yeah, some do.  At least they want you to
think
you’ve tamed them.”

             
“You must not have too many woman clients seeking your psychological advice.”

             
“I gots lots of woman coming in here asking, ‘Do you think he still loves me, Jamaal,’ or they ask, ‘Do you think he gonna come over tonight, Jamaal,’ or ‘How I get him to love me again, Jamaal.’  Hell, I think I have more woman clients than I do men, come to think about it.”  He turned to serve another customer who’d been waiting.  “So, Ms. Caroline does it for you?”

             
“Sure she does.” 
Don’t go there, Max.
  “While I was away, though, I renewed an acquaintance with a woman I haven’t spoken to in over twenty years.” 
You just had to go there, didn’t you?

             
“Uh-huh.  Now we gettin’ somewhere. Spill the espresso beans, Mr. R.”

             
“She was important to me once … inspired my writing when we were teenagers.”

             
“Damn, she was your muse.”

             
“Maybe, but she has a life now, a husband and a son.  We’ve been out of touch with each other for most of our lives.”

             
“Tell me this, Mr. R.  When you saw her, did your heart sing?”

             
“Sing?”

             
“Like-a-canary in heat!  When she walked into the room, did your soul break into song?”

             
“It wasn’t like that, Jamaal.  She was playing the piano for children.  Ironically, the very first time I noticed her, over twenty years ago, she was also playing the piano.”

             
“Captured your heart with her music … then and now?”

             
“Something like that.”

             
Jamaal turned to another customer.  “Well,” he said over his shoulder, “this woman is incredibly important to you.”

             
“Why do you say that?”

             
“Because you wouldn’t have gone looking for her if she wasn’t.”

             
“Not sure that’s what I did,” Max told him.

             
Jamaal leaned over the counter and locked eyes with Max.  “When I saw you last, Mr. R., you were hurting.  When you hit bottom, I told you then, you’d go on instincts and solve your problems.  You did something you never thought you’d do, didn’t ya?”

             
“How’d you know that?”

             
“Because that’s what people do when they hurting like you were.  They do strange things, things they’d never thought about doing.  You went to see this woman.  But that’s not the best part, Mr. R.”

             
“What’s the best part?”

             
“Look how you feel now.  It worked … you doing whatever it was you did, and seeing this woman who was your muse.  You healed.”

             
“She didn’t come back with me.  Caroline and I started dating again, remember?”

             
“Don’t matter.  This other woman changed you once … and she changed you again.  She’s more important to you than you give her credit.  Careful you don’t lose all that again.”

             
“I appreciate your advice, but I like your coffee more.  Maybe there’s some truth in what you say, but it isn’t going to happen.  This other woman is not of our world here in New York, and never will be.  You’ll have to get used to your venti cups shuttering and your drippers dripping on their own.  The only woman in my life right now is Caroline McKennington Maher.”

             
“That’s your choice, my brother.  I’m sure you’ll make the most of it.  You lucky man, Mr. R., if you love a woman hard and she love you too.”

Chapter 44
– Erika

              “Are you surviving, girlfriend.”

             
“I’m fine, Miriam.”

             
Erika had accepted her invitation to see a movie.  Unfortunately, they’d picked a sad love story where the two main characters are destined to meet, discover they are soul mates, but ultimately decide they can never be together because they’re married to different people.  It wasn’t the story of Max and Erika, but close enough to bring her spirits down. 

When the movie was over, they went to a new, upscale restaurant.  They sat at the bar.

“You could go there, you know?”

“New York?  To Max?  I don’t think so.”

“Why not?  Your marriage is unraveling nicely, neatly.  Jay is keeping company more with his friends, and he could stay with George and me for a few days.  Max came here to your world.  Wouldn’t you like to see his universe?  It’d give you a whole new perspective.”

“What if he doesn’t want to see me?  Or worse, what if he’s dating someo
ne?  When he was in Cottonwood he may have conveniently failed to mention that he has a New York girlfriend.  I wouldn’t want to walk in on that.”

They both ordered white wine.  It was early in the day, lunchtime, but the mood of the conversation warranted alcohol of some nature.  Wine seemed a safe choice.  Unlike the wait staff patrolling the tables, the bartender, a young married woman named Sabrina with naturally highlighted and curly, honey-blond hair, merely placed the menus and wine in front of them and left them to their conversation.

“What?  You’re just visiting a friend, to say hello, to repay him for traveling all the way out here to see you.  That doesn’t sound too threatening to me.  Keep in mind, he played the first overture by coming to Cottonwood.”

“Maybe you’re right, Mir, but I’m also not sure whether I’m ready to see Max again.  I wrote to him … sent him e-mail … twice!”

“And?”

“Nothing.  He didn’t respond.”

“So he’s busy.”

“More like he’s given up on me.  I wasn’t very encouraging when he was here.”

“You were closing doors at the time … Darrell … Garner.  You weren’t yourself.”

The tables in the restaurant were beginning to fill up.  Then noon crowd was coming in for lunch.  The opening of a new eating establishment was a major happening in Cottonwood.  Everyone was coming in to check out the décor, service and food.

Without needing to ask, Sabrina topped off their wine.

“Regardless, I left Max thinking there was never going to be a moment for us.  My e-mail did mention the divorce, and I asked him to write, but he’s back there now, in his element.  He may no longer feel the same way he did when we had our brief intimacies in Cottonwood.  Nice bed you and George have, by the way.”  They laughed.

“Yeah, we give it a good ride every now and then.  But our best moments, George and me, have been in exotic locations like Rome, and Venice, and the Greek Isles, and any secluded beach in the Caribbean.  Your best moments might be in New York, E.”

“I wish I had what you and George share.”

“You do, or did, once.  Maybe you could again.  Don’t give up the dream, E.  If Max feels the same way, he won’t let go easily.  You’ll haunt his memories forever, if it was truly as good as you say.  Keep writing him.  You never know.”

Erika was reminded in that moment why her friendship with Miriam over the years was so important.  Her advice was
always comforting, even though Erika didn’t always take it.  She never judged which was a blessing given Erika’s personal indiscretions.  Miriam, she was certain, was too devoted to George to risk doing something stupid like bringing a Darrell into her life.  Miriam also knew that George and Garner were very different people when it came to how they treated their wives.  Maybe Miriam reasoned that, were she married to Garner instead of George, than she would have made choices similar to Erika.  Regardless, Erika was grateful and devoted to her friend.

“Fine.  I
’ll write him again.  But if he doesn’t answer this one, you’ll let it go, right, Mir?  Agreed?”

“
Oh,
I’ll
let it go, but will you ever?”

Max sat at the computer after breakfast
the following morning.  He’d taken another evening to think it through. 
What would be the harm?  We’re friends.  No promises to be made, just a brief note letting her know that I appreciated hearing from her.
  The phone rang.

“Max, this is a great story with well developed characters.  Dialogue is crisp and honest.  This may be your best.  When will I see the final chapters?”

“I’m glad you like it, Peter, and good morning to you too.  I’m struggling with the ending, but I’ll find it.  Give me time.”

“Okay, Max.  I don’t want to rush the creative process, but I think you have a winner.”

Max returned to the computer in a mood more accommodating to the idea of corresponding with Erika.  After all, Erika was as much Cottonwood as Caroline was New York, and Cottonwood had given him the gift of this latest, and soon to be greatest, novel.

Erika – It was n
ice hearing from you,”
he began.
  Sorry that I didn’t write back right away.  You can’t imagine how much work piled up here while I was in Cottonwood.  My agent tells me the early chapters of the new book are good.  I guess my writing is back on track.   You might see the hardback copies at
Borderlands
soon.  (I’m joking, of course.)  I’m sorry to hear about your marriage.  You and Garner have a lot of years invested.  And then there’s Jay.  Understandable that he’s not taking it well.  Divorce is always hard on the kids, they say.  Doris is set up on e-mail now.  Send her a note if you get the chance.  Take care.  – Max.

He then turned his attention to finding the ending of the novel.  It took the entire day to draft it out, but he still wasn’t happy.  The action and motivations of his principle characters seemed forced, rushed to an unrealistic conclusion.  It would take a while longer to find it, but he was certain the ending would come to him eventually.  He just had to keep working at it.