To See You Again (19 page)

He shakes his head. "Leighton said not to worry
about it. Apparently, Collin has a maid." He waggles his eyebrows and looks as
though he's restraining a giggle in his throat.

I'm not in the joking mood, so I ignore him and glance
at my watch. "Well, I need to get on the road so we should head up now," I say
firmly.

Rachel
and Beckett have been upstairs for at least fifteen minutes and she has yet to
even make eye contact with me. She was quiet last night, but this morning she's
taking ignoring me to an all-new level. I've made eggs in toast—her favorite,
or at least it was—but she's just picking at it.

"This is
great, Collin," Beckett proclaims, with a mouthful of the last of his food. I'd
never seen anyone make eggs like this until I met Rach. She orders them
whenever we're out for breakfast, but then usually complains that they don't
get them right. I bet these hit the nail on the head, right baby?" He elbows
her, but she doesn't respond. She's staring at the table like she's in a
trance.

"Are you
feeling OK, Rachel? You haven't touched your breakfast." I stare her down, but
she barely elevates her head to answer me.

She
shakes her head and sits up slightly, but still refuses to look at me as she
answers. "I'm sorry everyone. I don't mean to be rude. I'm just concerned about
work. I really need to get into the office. In fact, Beck, do you think you're
ready to go now?" He nods and swallows the last of his orange juice. I watch
intently as Rachel stands and places a hand on Leighton's shoulder. "You've
been a perfect hostess, Leighton. Thank you so much for everything. I'll get
the clothes back to you as soon as I get them washed and Collin's shirt dry
cleaned."

Leighton
stands up, embracing Rachel, and then Beckett immediately after. "Please don't
worry about the clothes. I hope we get to see both of you again real soon."
Rachel only manages a weak nod in return. This panics Leighton and she shoots
me a frantic glance. I avert my gaze. There isn't a goddamn thing I can do
about any of this now. I let my emotions overwhelm us both, and Rachel is going
to make me pay. Again.

Beckett
shrugs his coat on and then gives me a firm handshake and a smile. "Thanks
again, man. Sure hope we didn't impose too much," he says, smiling genuinely. I
stare into his eyes for a moment and for the first time I allow myself to consider
if what I'm doing is wrong. My tunnel vision has been convenient—only thinking
about what I feel and
want—
but as much as it pains me, Beckett seems
like a really good guy.

"It was
no problem at all." I look past him to Rachel who is standing quietly, just
behind him. She steps forward and embraces me lightly.

"Take
care, Collin," she murmurs.

I tug
her closer and whisper into her dark hair, pulled tight on the top of her head.
"You, too." She extracts herself from me quickly, and then turns toward Beckett,
nodding an affirmative to depart. After a moment or two of shuffling, and
checking belongings and such, I hear the front door close, and they're gone.

Leighton
emerges from the foyer, hands on her hips. "What the hell was that, Collin?"

I toss
the spatula into the sink and face her, releasing a long breath. Here we go…"What,
Leighton?" My tone warns her stop this now, but she ignores it.

"What
did you say?" She accuses.

"Say to
who?" I sigh. "Get to your point. I'm not in the mood for a merry-go-round
conversation with you." I level her with my eyes again.

"Fine,
Collin, I will. You said or
did
something, I don't know which, but your
college friend couldn't get out of here fast enough this morning." She comes to
stand in front of me, like she's attempting to block any potential exits from
the kitchen.

"She
just needed to get to work, Leighton. She said that. Don't make this into
something it isn't." I turn around and start washing the pans. I'm not going to
have this conversation.

"No, I
won't. That's your job, Collin. You turn everything you can into shit," she
seethes.

I fight
for control. Who does she think she is? "What the hell does that even mean, Leighton?"
I'm pissed now, but I keep my voice cool and calm, even if my words are the
opposite. If she's baiting me, it's working.

"If
something good comes into your life, you just push it away. They seem like nice
people. We could've hung out with them, done stuff as couples, instead of it
always being
my friends
." Her voice is cracking. She's about to cry. Ah,
shit…

"What's
wrong with your friends?" I ask, lowering my voice, but failing to improve my
tone. I keep my back to her. I'm so pissed right now I can't look at her. I
know my anger is misplaced, and I'm trying to calm myself, but the frustration
and hurt I feel swells and pulsates in my throat.

"You
don't like any of them, for one. Don't think they haven't all noticed." She
pauses, undoubtedly hoping for me to leap in with a denial. When she fails to
get the response she desires she switches gears and returns to an old argument.
"I want us to have a life together as a couple. I can't do it by myself." She
sniffs and I know she's crying now. I should go to her. I should hug her, but I
just…can't.

"Has it
occurred to you that maybe she just doesn't like
me
? Maybe she doesn't
want
me
in
her
life?" I stare out the kitchen window thinking how
this simple truth is at the very basis of all my pain and anger in this moment.

"Gee,
you're so friendly toward everyone. I can't imagine why she'd feel that way!"
She storms off down the hall and I start a mental countdown. 3…2…1… SLAM. And
she wonders why I don't want her to move in.

Vanessa's voice is a welcome break in this crap
day from hell. "I'm sorry I can't go out tonight, but I'm so glad you're coming
over. Whenever Lindy's sick she won't let Ryan do anything, so I've gotta kind
of be ‘on call' tonight."

"No apologies, Vanessa! I get it. I hope poor,
little Lindy-bear feels better soon. Anyway, I'm going to be stuck here for a
while longer so I'll be happy to just collapse on your couch with some wine tonight."
I watch as my office phone lights up with yet another internal voicemail. Yep,
it's going to be awhile.

"I can't wait. I've been thinking about you
non-stop. Well, non-stop between puke episodes, that is; which, by the way, I
don't want you to worry about. Ryan and I are virus-free and I just wiped down
every surface in the house with bleach." She giggles and then says, "No,
really, we're like
out
of bleach. I just sent Ryan to the store for
more."

"After the last twenty-four hours of my life, a stomach
virus sounds like an improvement." I glance at my list of unopened email and
puff out a sigh.

"That bad, seriously? Maybe I didn't effectively
share just how much puke there's been in this house today," she jokes. I don't
reply, and after a beat she says, "That craptastick? Wow. OK, you finish up all
your stuff there and get over here ASAP."

"You got it," I say. "I'll text you when I'm
leaving."

"Sounds good."

I click the phone off and stare down at my desk.
There's so much to do and not enough hours in the day. It also doesn't help
that I've been replaying moments with Collin over and over, coming to zero
conclusions at all.

Tim appears in my doorway and has spit out
half-a-dozen sentences before I register what he's talking about. He uses his
index finger to adjust his glasses and glares at me. "Are you with me, Rachel?"

Realizing that I've been gaping at him instead of
taking notes, I grab a pen in front of me and then immediately drop it on the
floor. Scrambling beneath my desk to pick it up I slam my head against the
metal middle drawer. When I sit up, sans dignity, Tim is flat-out staring at
me. He points in my general direction and makes a small circle in the air with
his finger. "What's going on, Rachel?"

My face warms with humiliation. "Nothing. I'm
fine. Go ahead. I'm with you now." He narrows his eyes, but otherwise seems to
be willing to let my antics slide. He resumes his rapid-fire list of new tasks
and projects and I struggle to keep up. I still feel like I'm in a sleep-deprived
fog. I confirm deadlines with him, ask a few questions and then a silence descends
between us. I don't trust my cluttered mind enough to fill it, so I'm hoping
either Tim does, or this just becomes awkward enough that he leaves. Tim raises
one hand and cups the doorframe. I'm silently praying he doesn't want to rehash
my slapstick routine from a few moments ago.
I'm fine. I swear.

"You can get Meredith to help you, if you want,"
he mutters, examining me with a faint look of disapproval. He can always tell
when I off. I nod my head and use what little brainpower I have left to will
him to
just go.
He's not picking up what I'm putting down though, that's
for sure. He narrows his eyes again. "I heard about the elevator. Were you
stuck long?" This may be the closest Tim has ever come to asking me a personal
question. I'm once again thrown and bumble around before properly answering
him. That's 0 for 2 for me today.

"Um…well, it seemed that way, but it ended up being
fine. I'm fine." I'm nodding my head trying to make all my ‘fines' believable.
Tim seems like he's either already bored with this topic, or he believes me. I
don't give a crap which one it is.

"Good. Good," he says curtly, turning to go. I
exhale a sigh of relief at his signature conversation-ender. When he's safely
out of view, I slam a palm to my forehead. I may be sleep deprived, but the
real issue is this Collin brain-jacking. I need to clear my mind and let it go.
Let
him
go, that is.

It's late afternoon when I get a text from Leighton.

Leighton: Still mad?

Me: You're the one who slammed the door

Leighton: Is that a yes?

Me: I don't enjoy you yelling at me, but I'm over
it.

Leighton: I'm really sorry.

Me: I know. I am too.

Leighton: Can I come over tonight? Make it up to
you?

Me: Sure. Let yourself in. I should be there
around 7.

I can't really be angry with her. A perfect
stranger would've detected the tension between Rachel and me this morning. In
fact, the only one who seemed truly oblivious was Beckett. I need to get her to
let this go. In fact, according to Rachel, I need to let it go as well.

I put my phone away and resume checking email. I
notice one in the queue with the subject
RFP for Marshmen's
and I
immediately click it open. I peruse the contents quickly. It looks like my head
sales rep, Mike, has already scheduled a presentation date with the Marshmen
reps. They're having all their candidates pitch on the same day and there are
three of us who've made it to this final round. Our company is slotted to go
second.

I drum my fingers on the tabletop. Rachel said
they were up for this as well and she seemed excited to be a part of it. It
will be pretty difficult to avoid one another on this one. I cover my face and
close my eyes, pushing gently on the sockets with my fingers. My head is
fucking spinning from lack of sleep and stress. I skipped lunch completely
today. My stomach's been in knots since about three in the morning. I'm a goddamn
train wreck.

I try to envision running into Rachel at the
Marshmen headquarters and I can't picture any of it. Of course she'd be
professional if she saw me out on business, she's Rachel, but it's what she'd
be feeling on the inside that both concerns and depresses me. I don't know if I
should bow out of this meeting or not. From a business standpoint it's imperative
that I go, so I guess there's really nothing to decide about it. It'll be just like
ripping off a bandaid. Shit.

She was direct last night about ceasing contact
and judging by her behavior this morning, it didn't appear her decision on the
matter had waivered. I doubt she'll be too pleased about this forced contact. I
click on the invite from Mike and accept it into my calendar. It's three weeks
from now almost to the day. That'll make twice in the span of just a few months
that our careers have caused a collision. For a guy who has never believed in
fate, I'm sure starting to.

 "Get in here!" I'm not even to Vanessa's front
door and she's dragging me inside. She immediately starts helping me remove my
coat, as I'm kicking my shoes off into the corner of her foyer. "The kids are
finally
asleep, and Ryan has promised to make the living room ours for the night!"
Vanessa exclaims, as she guides me down the hallway, my hand clutched in hers.

I cough a little, my eyes watering. "Geez, Nessa,
you weren't kidding about the bleach. Blech!" I mock gag.

She laughs. "Trust me, it's worth the burning
sensation. You do not want whatever that was!"

Ryan saunters in, looking like he's been mowed
over by a tank. "I've got the monitor. I'll let you know if reinforcements are
needed, but I think the worst is over." A look of panic briefly breaks through
the exhaustion on his face. "That had to be the worst of it, right?"

"Oh my God, I hope so. That was some exorcist
shit," Vanessa says looking like she's recalling something as disturbing as the
movie she's referenced.

"Sorry, Rach," Ryan mumbles. "We're sure painting
a pretty picture of parenthood for you tonight, aren't we?"

I smile at his tired face. "You guys are the best
parents I know. I'm sorry you're both so wrecked. Maybe I should just come back
another time?"

"No!" They shout in unison.

 "You're not going anywhere, Missy!" Vanessa
thrusts an authoritative arm out in front of me, forcing me to lean back onto
the couch. Ryan reassures me again that I'm welcome and then waves his
departure as he meanders down the hall. Vanessa yanks down a fuzzy, blue
blanket from the top of the couch and drapes it over our legs. We clink wine
glasses and each take a sip.

I reach over and squeeze Vanessa's hand. "Thanks
for doing this," I murmur.

"What?" She looks at me quizzically.

"Letting me come over. Giving me a space to just
be...well, you know, a mess. I know it's a lot to ask. You have sick kids and
your workday never ends. Mom's don't get breaks, and here you are giving me
time when you must be exhausted and burnt out yourself!" I study our
intertwined hands for a moment before looking up at her.

Vanessa sets her wine glass down with one hand and
then places it over our joined ones. "How many times did you come here and just
let me vent, or cry or freak out when my dad was sick?" I shrug, but don't
really answer her. "You took the kids on Saturdays or Sundays for us countless
times so we could spend the day at the hospital with him or go and help my mom.
You ordered us that food service, you answered the phone no matter what the
hour, you walked the damn dog!" She exhales and squeezes my hand. "You did so
much, Rachel."

"It was nothing," I say. "I wanted to do all of
that and more. I would've done more if I could've."

"Well then, don't you think I feel the same? You
need me? I'm here. That's what friendship is. One of the biggest gifts true
friendship has to offer is being the respite someone else needs. It's a gift to
be here with you. It's a gift to know that when you feel lost or down I get to
be the one to help you through it. It isn't a burden, it's an honor." She
squeezes her hands tighter and I squeeze back.

"That's beautiful, Vanessa. I'm so lucky to have
you, but I feel foolish and completely ridiculous trying to compare my
emotional guy drama to you losing your dad to ALS. The two aren't anywhere in
the same ballpark."

"I see what you're saying, and I appreciate that,
but what I'm telling you is that pain is pain, Rachel. I'm not sitting over
here keeping score. That's not why I brought my dad up. I can see you're
hurting and feeling confused, so we're not going to measure the why and ask if
it's worthy.  Besides, I think we both know this runs much deeper than just
picking the right dress for the high school dance. If I thought you were making
something out of nothing, I'd tell you."

I smile. "I know you would."

"OK then, let's get down to it. So, you got stuck
in an elevator, Rachel?" I nod. "Only you! I swear you're seriously the
only
person I know who would end up trapped in an elevator for half the freaking
day! Your life is a like a sitcom."

"I know, right? It was so messed up."

We both giggle and then Vanessa tells me to get on
with it. She wants nothing left out. I do my best to retell everything,
starting with more in-depth details of the fundraiser where Collin and I first
ran into each other, and ending with our bizarre night at his townhome..

"I have to say, Rachel, didn't you ever think this
was a possibility?"

My jaw drops open. "What?"

"Unfurrow that brow, Rachel. Let's walk through
this one. You had to know there was a chance he would move to Chicago, right? I
mean, even before I saw him on Facebook, you must've considered it a
possibility." I give her a conceding shrug. "You guys had the same major in
college and
you
went into the same business in the same city as his stepdad.
That's a lot of sames!"

I sit upright, feeling indignant. "I'll acknowledge
I've always worried I might run into
Victor
somewhere along the way, but
honestly, he wasn't even that hands on with the business a decade ago. It
would've been pretty random for me to see him on a call…but Collin? No. No way,
did I ever dream he would've followed in his stepdad's footsteps in any way. He
only stayed in our major because Victor insisted. I have no idea where I
thought he would end up living or working, but I would've ranked in or near his
hometown dead last."

"Do you think Victor always planned on giving the
business to him?" Vanessa questions.

"I have no clue. I stopped trying to figure that
a-hole out a long time ago." I gasp and cover my mouth. "Oh my gosh, I'm
horrible. I can't believe I just said that about Collin's deceased stepdad."

"Oh, please, Rachel. I think even Victor would
agree he was an asshole." We both giggle and then take a simultaneous sip of
wine. Vanessa raises her eyebrows at me as she continues to drink, and then
puts up her index finger, directing me to wait for her. "So wait, wait, wait. Let's
back up to the elevator again. I'm confused. Did something happen between you
two in there or not?" She swirls her remaining wine around in her glass and
looks at me expectantly.

"Yes and no…I don't know." I take a long drink
from mine, summoning courage, and look up at Vanessa who is staring back at me
wide-eyed.

"OK. We didn't kiss, but we were sort of holding
each other." I wince.

A wicked grin sweeps across her face. "Define
‘holding each other'?"

"It's hard to explain. It was pitch black in there
and it all sort of happened naturally at first, like a hug, sort of…and then we
were just…in each other's arms." I take a deep breath. "And then there was some
touching." I wince again.

"Touching!" Vanessa grabs my arm and both our glasses
shake and wine sloshes everywhere. After some giggling and a quick clean up of
the couch, I add, "and he may have kissed the top of my head, like, super
lightly."

Vanessa's appears shocked. "May have? I thought
you said there wasn't kissing?" She demands, refilling both our glasses.

I sigh. "There wasn't. I mean we didn't kiss each other.
Anyway, we cut it out and realized it wasn't…um, appropriate, I guess?" I clasp
my head in my hands. "Oh, God."

"So, what does all this add up to, Rachel?"

"I have no goddamned idea!" I place a hand to my
forehead. "I mean, there was all the closeness in the elevator and stuff, but
then when the doors opened it was like a bucket of cold water. I realized what
happened in there wasn't real life…and then it really hit home when we were up
late talking at his house." I grimace recalling the awkwardness.

She takes a deep breath, like she's literally
absorbing my words into her lungs, and then asks, "Well, what did you guys talk
about?"

"That's the thing—nothing really, but then he said
something about Leighton and I just felt sick. She may be a little perky, but
she's super nice, and I thought about Beckett too, and… What was I doing, you
know?"

"Alright, Rachel. Time to spill it. Do you have
feelings for Collin?" Boom! There's the question I know I need to answer, but
have been doing everything I can to avoid. Like a child, I cover my face
completely.

"Rachel," Vanessa whispers. "Do you?"

I open up a small space between my index and
middle finger and peek over at her. "I'm a horrible person, aren't I?"

"Not horrible at all, but you've got to figure
this out." Vanessa pries my fingers off of my face. I nod and smile at her.
"What am I gonna to do with you, missy?"

"Tell me what the hell to do?" I whine.

"Ha!" She fakes laughs. "I can't do that, but I
can
try to help you figure this out." She takes the hand that she pulled off my
face and holds it tightly in hers.

"Let's start with something simpler. Describe your
feelings for Beckett."

I inhale deeply, closing my eyes, and trying to
conjure all of his features in my mind. "I love him. He's smart, and kind, and
driven and..." My voice trails off.

She nods. "See, that's the thing, girl. You've
always had him a little bit at arm's length. I really think if you're going to
marry him, then you need to be able to list at least more than three likeable
qualities." Vanessa wags her finger at me and takes another swig of wine.

"Marry him?" I gasp, incredulous.

"Gotcha!
That
is not the reaction a woman
in her thirties should have about her long-time boyfriend."

I frown at her. "What kind of comment is that? I
thought you were a feminist!"

"I am, and nice try by the way, I know you haven't
crossed marriage off the Rachel-life-plan." She crooks an eyebrow.

I let out a little laugh. "The Rachel-life-plan?"

"Well, you know what I mean. I've never heard you
say you were opposed to marrying in general, but you've done some serious heel
dragging with Beck." Now both her brows are raised. She's giving me a look
that's usually reserved for when she feels she's won an argument with Ryan.

"I'm not opposed…it's just…" I heave out a sigh.
"How is this helping me again?"

 "Fair enough. I was just trying to make a point
about your current relationship. OK, I'll let you off the hook on that one for
now. New topic. So, what's this
new
Collin like? I have to admit I'm
still trying to cram the mental image of Collin Jackson in a suit into my
brain!" She places a finger on each temple and scrunches her eyes closed
dramatically.

"I know, right? It's still hard to believe it was
real." I laugh hard, and it's a wonderful emotional release. I finish my glass
of wine, feeling the effects of sleep deprivation and alcohol mix together.
"That's the thing that's hardest to explain. He's still him. On the outside
though, he's clean cut…grown up…he doesn't smoke anymore—all these changes. And
yet when we were in the dark, and all we had were our voices, it was like we
were
us
again." I pause, thinking about how much time I'd spent hoping
for him to return to my life in any capacity. For a few hours, I'd gotten my
wish, but now everything is undeniably different; and the truth is I'm not sure
there can be an "us" anymore. My eyes sting as I fight back tears. "I had him
back." My voice cracks and tears begin racing down my face. "I gave up hope,
Nessa, that I would ever even see him again and then—" I release an
embarrassingly loud yelp, as my crying transforms into sobbing. Vanessa pulls
me into a hug and I weep on her shoulder, wetting her sweater with my tears.

"Rach, you're so upset. What went on between you
two? It sounds like you guys made up. Isn't that a good thing?" She asks while
my face is still burrowed.

I lift my head up for a moment and take a deep
breath. "I told him we have to stay away from each other."

"You did, huh?" I nod. "I bet he loved that."

I shrug. "I didn't really give him much of a
chance to argue." Vanessa stares at me and I know I need to try and explain
this better, if not for her, then definitely for me. I sit up. "I don't think I
can handle it. Being around him was so intense. I couldn't believe how much
feeling
for him was left inside me after all this time." She cocks an eyebrow at me.
"No," I shake my head, "not
all
like that. There was anger, hurt,
confusion, sadness and it all just sort of jumbled together and I couldn't
decide what to say or how to act. Then, after we talked awhile and I heard his
point of view, it was like things sort of fell back into place. Does that even
make sense?" She nods. "But it isn't real. That time in the elevator? It was
like this weird little bubble that popped, and now we're back in our real
lives. Our
separate
lives. Those feelings I had, they can't go anywhere
good." I shake my head emphatically.

"It sounds like you two really have a strong
connection. I could see how that could be scary," she says, her voice
completely serious.