The Weight of Gravity (40 page)

She met Miriam at the gym for their
bi-weekly aerobics class.  They’d just finished and went straight to the juice bar.  Both needed to shower.  They wore colorful workout leotards, cotton headbands, and had towels draped over their shoulders.  Two beefy college kids had already approached them for idle conversation, but all she and Miriam could do was laugh.  They didn’t want to hurt their egos, but they both thought the advances of the much younger men were absurd. Miriam assured them that they were not cougars on the prowl, and thanked them for the compliment.

“What should I do?  Give him time?”

“You could do that.  Or you can take the upper hand.  Go see him.”

“Without telling him?”

“Sure.  He’s either going to be excited to see you or not.  At least you’ll know.  If you stay here, you many never find out what happened … why he pulled back.  Go to him.  If he’s not overjoyed to see you, then you can shut the door once and for all on Max Rosen.  You’ll always wonder if you don’t force the issue with him.”

“I have a few days to consider what to do.  My flight isn’t until Monday.”

Erika re-read Max’s email that evening.  There was no question in her mind that in earlier notes he’d encouraged her to visit.  Why now was he backing away? 
What’s going on?
  Maybe he was honestly worried about having time to spend with her.  Maybe the work
was
piling up and he felt distracted.  And maybe she was making much to-do about nothing. 

The next morning, she
drove to Pine Meadow, to the burned-out cabin.  She sat on the remnants of the porch, staring down the mountainside to the valley below.  There were fresh conifer needles under her sandals and a breeze rustled the limbs above her.  “Whispering pines,” Mr. Rosen called them.  It was a perfect day.  Indian summer, she thought.  There was no hint of the winter storm that would blanket the village with three feet of snow before the end of the month.  Today, the air was warm and sweet with the smell of pine. 
I was sitting in this exact spot the day Mr. Rosen first spoke to me … the only time he ever spoke to me alone.

“Got any idea where that pea-brained son of mine slipped off to?” he asked her that day.  “I want to finish that bathroom before the turn of the next millennium.”
              “He drove to the Pine Meadow market to get us some ice cream.”

He towered above her, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his overalls.  An oily, checkered rag hung from the bib front.

“You didn’t want to go with him?”

“He ordered me to stay and keep his seat, so that no one else took it.  Pretty silly, huh?  He said it like we were sitting in the movie theater.  He said this spot,” she pointed at the porch boards next to her, “was the best place in the whole world to see this magnificent view.”

“He ain’t as dumb as I give him credit for.”

“He isn’t dumb at all, Mr. Rosen, and you know it.”

“Yeah, well … maybe not, but he’s lazy as hell.”

“You don’t believe that either,” she said.
  She thought she saw the corner of his mouth begin to twist into a smile, but it disappeared quickly.

“How do you know what I believe?  You can’t be much smarter than he is if you like him so much.”

“I don’t like him, Mr. Rosen.  I love him.”  She smiled up at him.  “You’re a difficult man … sometimes.”

“Difficult?  Where do you get off calling me difficult?”

“To know Max is to know you.  I think I have you figured out pretty well.”

“Oh, you do?”

“You’re obstinate, and a bully … sometimes.”

“Don’t insult me, or I’ll run you off my porch.”

There it was again, she thought, that crooked don’t-make-me-smile twist to his lips.

“Why are you so hard on Max?”

“I’m not hard on him.”

“Yes, you are.  You ride him every time you get the chance.  He loves you, you know?”

“He told you that?”

“He didn’t have to
.  I know him well enough that, no matter what he says, I know he loves and admires his father.”

“Well … maybe he ain’t so dumb after all.  Just don’t tell him I said that.”

“I wouldn’t ever.  Wouldn’t mean much if it came from anyone but you.”

“You’re smarter than that knucklehead son of mine.”

“No sir, I’m not.  What I am is blest, to have him love me so deeply.”

“You stick by him, then, because he’s a lucky young man to have a lady like you for a girlfriend.  Half way makes me want to admire him for being smart enough to grab and hold on to a prize filly like you.”

“Thanks.  I intend to hang on to your son for a very long time.  I’m glad you approve.”

She saw him smile,
then, a real smile: small and subtle, but definitely a smile.  Something he rarely did, she knew.

“Abso-darn-lutely gorgeous view, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” she said.  “I love it here.”

“Then it’s my gift to you, sweetheart.”

“What?”

“This,” he said, gesturing at the open expanse, “the view and everything in it.  It’s yours, but only if I can borrow it sometimes.”

“Anytime.”

He turned to walk back into the cabin.  “Tell Max, when he gets back, to eat his ice cream fast, cause I need his help with the toilet.  Yeah,” he said over his shoulder before the screened door slammed shut, “you hang on to Max, Ms. Morgan.  As addle-brained as my son is, he needs someone smart like you to watch out for him.”

Erika waited until the shadow of the highest peak passed over the spot in the valley where she imagined her home might be, then drove down the mountain.

“I have to consider every option,” she told Miriam on the phone that evening.  “I feel like we’re on the verge of recapturing something lost nearly a quarter of a century ago.  I let him down once.  I don’t want to do it again.”

“Maybe he’s testing you.  Maybe he thinks you won’t have the strength to do what he wanted you to do twenty-five years ago.”

“Well, he’s not going to be disappointed this time.”

“You’re going?”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?  I never imagined having a second chance.  I’m going to be with Max.  It’s where I should have been all these years.  Yes, Miriam.  I’m going to New York on Monday.”

She sat at the computer in her nightgown.  She wasn’t going to bed until she responded to his note.

             
Dear Max – I understand.  Love you, Reekie.

             
She checked her e-mail each morning and evening for the next three days, but Max didn’t write.

              “Come on, Marcie.  We have work to do.”  He’d watched her mope around the apartment all day.  It worried Max to see her like this.  “You’re my assistant and you’re not assisting much today.”  He waited, but she was quiet, sorting through the same piles of paper she’d sorted earlier.  He gently put his hands on her shoulders and she dropped her chin to her chest. “Why don’t we call it quits and you can head home.”  He helped her with her coat and walked her to the elevator.  “Tomorrow is another day.  Let’s pick it up then, okay?”  He hugged her and watched as the doors closed between them.

             
Moments later he heard the bell that signaled someone was coming up.  He spoke as the elevator doors began to open.  “I told you to go home, Marcie.”

             
“Hello, Max.”

“Erika!  How’d you get in the elevator?”   

“The doorman was going to ring you, but he saw Marcie coming through the lobby and introduced us.  You described her well … five feet tall, big sunglasses, streak of periwinkle blue in her hair.  She said I should surprise you.  Surprise!”

There was a long moment before he approached and hugged her, somewhat awkwardly.  He held her at arms length and searched her eyes for recognition.  He was startled to see her standing there, in his apartment, seeing her and hearing her voice for the first time in four months.

              “Let’s try that again, what do you say?” and he hugged her again, with affection this time. “I didn’t expect you.”

             
“I know.  I understand you have work to do and that you probably don’t have time to show me around ... not right now, but I’m content to hang out and soak up the few free moments you do have.”  She looked past him into the apartment.  “Mind if I come in?”

             
Max stepped aside and she wheeled her single bag across the threshold.  “It’s beautiful!” she gushed, stopping in the entry.  The windows with the view of Central Park were on the opposite side of the room.

             
“Thank you.  I love it.”

             
“I can see why.  Far cry from the world of Cottonwood, isn’t it?”  She smiled at him over her shoulder and walked further into the room.

             
“I don’t think we could find two more contrasting places if we tried.”  He took the handle of her bag and rolled it against the paneling in the entry.  “Let me have your coat.  Would you like some tea or coffee?”  Max walked into the kitchen and Erika followed.

             
“Tea, please, with milk,” she said, “but can I get another hug, first?”

             
“He wrapped his arms around her tightly, and felt her warm breath on his neck.  It was wonderful, but he felt himself pull away from her too quickly.  “How was your flight?” he asked as he started the tea.

             
“The drive to El Paso is the biggest pain.  From there, of course, you have to fly to a hub like Dallas or Atlanta or Los Angeles.”

             
“You have to fly to LA to get to New York?”

             
“That’s one option.  Doesn’t make sense, does it?  In my case, I flew Phoenix to Atlanta, then into Kennedy.”  She walked to the windows.  “It’s a little overwhelming, seeing all of this for the first time.”

             
“I remember my first view of the City ... when I was eighteen.  It scared the hell out of me!”

             
“I don’t believe that.  Nothing scared you at eighteen, Max.  You were so proud and defiant, ready to face anything.”

             
“Maybe, but Cottonwood didn’t prepare me for this.”  He handed her a cup of tea and stood next to her, looking out the windows.  “But I’ve never had a moments regret.”

             
“Really?  You didn’t miss
anything
when you came to New York?”  She smiled.

             
“I missed you, you know that.  Early on, I questioned my decision to leave, but I never had second thoughts about moving to New York.  I dreamed about it so often before I left Cottonwood that it seemed natural when I got here.  I just had to find a way to do it alone, without you.”

             
He motioned for them to move into the living room.  Erika sat facing the windows and Max sat across from her.  He stared at her over the rim of his cup.

             
“What?” she asked.

             
“I’m just surprised to see you.”  She waited for him to say more, but Max was unsure where to go next.  He wanted her there, and he wanted her to leave.  And he couldn’t bring himself to act on either emotion.  The light from the windows was fading more quickly than usual, he thought.  She face looked beautiful in the dying light.  Her eyes literally sparkled, and her complexion was flawless.

             
“You look like you’ve been working out,” he told her.

“I have.  I have more time now, and Miriam and I vowed to support each other at regular workouts at the gym.  We’ve stuck to it pretty well.”

He knew that the silence between them now was deadly.  An enormous elephant stood in the middle of the room between them.  He knew, and he knew that she knew, that it was up to Max to take the lead, to say that her coming to New York was what he wanted, and it was.  But, he couldn’t bring himself to say the words.  He needed more time to think things through, to prepare himself, to prepare Erika.

“Can I be honest, Max?” she said finally.  “This isn
’t the reception I anticipated, but I really don’t know what I should have expected.”  Her hand shook when she brought the cup to her lips.  “You were very clear about not wanting me to come right now, but I thought maybe, just maybe, you were thinking more about what was best for me, and not yourself.  So, I thought, what the hell.  I’ll surprise him.  I thought, okay, you’re twenty years late in making up your mind, Erika, so why wait any longer.”

             
“I was thinking more about you when I wrote that last note,” he told her, but he could see that only confused her.  “What did you expect?”

             
“I thought you’d be surprised, of course.”

             
“I’m pleased to see you.”