Halfway There Page 5

  Really, how hard could it be?

  5

  Getting Engaged

  Excerpts from my email sometime in April:

  Dear Susan-Spusan:

  Ellen is making me crazy. I’ve got to get out of the house. It’s been about four months since I got laid off, and I need a change of scenery. What are you doing Memorial Day?

  I was thinking about coming out. I haven’t seen you in a while. How’s Kathy? Ellen’s okay. She’s been on reserve the last couple of weeks, so she’s been home. I hate to say this, but I think we do better when she’s off flying more.

  Anyway, write me back and let me know.

  Aubrie,

  Good to hear from you! It has been a while. We’re having a party on Memorial Day. The usual gang. It would be great to see you. Tell me what flight you’re on, and I’ll pick you up.

  Susan,

  I need to talk to Ellen. She’s been moping around ever since I told her I needed some time away. She says she never gets to see me, and she’s been trying to figure out a weekend that we can spend together. It has been busy lately. It seems like every time we turn around there’s some family thing going on. First it was Easter, then birthdays, then my grandmother coming in. Arrrgh! I’ve got to get out of here. Unfortunately, I think Ellen wants to come with me. Oh, yeah, we’re not flying. We’re driving, I guess. I’m still going to try to come out on my own. You and I haven’t hung out, just the two of us, in what, seven years or so?

  Ain’t love grand? Ever want to be single again?

  Aubrie,

  Driving?! What are you, nuts? It’s like an eight-hour trip. Driving is for kids. Get on a plane! Whatever. If you want to drive, it’s up to you.

  Susan,

  It’s all set. Ellen and I are going to leave on Friday afternoon. We should be there late Friday night. I’m assuming the party’s on Saturday. Ellen’s still pissed off about something, but she won’t tell me what it is. I feel like I’ve met her halfway. We get a weekend together, and I get some time away from the house. If she keeps this up, I’m going to leave her on the road somewhere.

  “Slow down!” I yelled. The rain was coming down hard, making huge splats on the windshield. It was dark, and I wasn’t in the mood to go hurtling down the road at seventy-five miles an hour on slick pavement.

  “I’m doing the speed limit,” Ellen replied.

  “Yes, I can see that, except speed limits are set up for optimal road conditions, not this kind of weather.”

  “Go back to reading your book.”

  “I don’t want to read my book. I want you to slow down.”

  “All right, all right. There. How’s that?” Ellen slowed down just enough to shut me up.

  “I think the weather’s getting worse. I can’t see five feet in front of the car.”

  Splash. Whoosh.

  “Damn!” Ellen shouted, working to get the car back on the road. “That puddle was huge!”

  I loosened my fingers from the edges of my seat and pulled the seat-belt shoulder strap out of my neck.

  “Ellen, look; that sign says there’s a town up ahead. Why don’t we pull over and spend the night. I don’t want to drive another four hours in this mess. We’ll be miserable when we get there, if we get there at all.”

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “I want out of this car as much as you do, but I’d rather get out of it in one piece. Humor me and just pull over.” Ellen wasn’t convinced. I could tell by the way she wasn’t slowing down or leaving the left lane.

  “If you pull over, we could get a nice hotel, maybe room service. We could relax for a little bit.”

  She looked over at me. That was a good sign.

  “What kind of hotel do you think we’re actually going to find in the middle of nowhere? Do you think they just drop Hyatts anywhere?”

  “They could have a Holiday Inn.”

  “You don’t travel much, do you?”

  “I remember the last time we were in Indiana.” I snuck a little glance in Ellen’s direction. “Remember when we were in college and we flew out to my dad’s to get my car back?”

  “That was in Illinois.”

  “Yeah, the car broke down in Illinois, but we ended up in Indiana.” I could make out a hint of a smile around Ellen’s eyes. “You wanted to pull over and fool around, as I recall.”

  “It wasn’t me. That was your idea. God, that was a long night.”

  I shifted my gaze out the window to watch the rain. She was right about it having been a “long night.” Driving from Missouri back to Baltimore, we had parked on the shoulder just outside of Nowheresville, Illinois to try out the back seat of my little Hyundai. It ended up being big enough only for some fervent and frustrating groping, but not much more. After about an hour of elbows and knees knocking about, we gave up. When Ellen started the car, nothing happened. We spent the night on the side of the road. The entire next day was spent trying to find someone to fix my foreign car. It was pretty clear that fixing a foreign car in the heartland of America was about a likely as selling snow to Eskimos.

  “You know, we had a lot of fun that day,” I said.

  “After your meltdown we did.”

  “I think I handled myself pretty well. I’m not sure Jesus Christ himself would have kept his cool if he had found out there wasn’t AAA in the whole state, his credit cards were maxed out, and nobody would touch his foreign car with a twenty-foot pole.”

  “And who figured out what to do?”

  I didn’t want to answer her. She was the one who finally called my dad for some money while I followed a greasy, beer-bellied, hairy repair guy around his shop trying to convince him with tears and threats that he really wanted to fix my car and take an out-of-town check for the work. If Dad hadn’t wired us the money, we’d still be in the town that time forgot.

  “I can’t hear you,” Ellen teased.

  “All right, you’re the one that got us out of the mess, with a little help from my dad.”

  “I think he was more than happy to get us back to Baltimore after you brought all that laundry home.”

  I laughed. “Shit, I had forgotten about that. It seemed like a good idea at the time. If you don’t have any clean clothes why not throw the dirty clothes bag in a suitcase? That way everything you need is already packed.”

  “Your stepmother threw a fit.”

  “Just because she hadn’t gone through having a kid in college before.”

  Wham! Something slammed into the roof of the car. I looked out the window and watched little pieces of ice bouncing off the hood.

  “Sweetie, that’s hail. Can we pull over now?”

  Ellen didn’t say anything, but she did take the next exit. We ended up about seven miles from the highway driving through what could only be called a wide-space in the road. At best it looked more like an extended truck stop consisting of two liquor stores, a gas station, a video store, and one stoplight.

  “This isn’t looking too good,” Ellen said as we got to the edge of town.

  “Kismet,” I said, trying to sound hopeful.

  “Kismet?”

  “It’s a Turkish or Arabic word for fate. Just go where the car takes you.”

  “The car is going to take us back to the highway then.”

  I shrugged. Ellen turned the car around. “At least the hail has stopped. Hey, try taking a left here at the stoplight.” We went down the dark street for a couple of miles.

  Sure enough, there it was just as if it had been waiting for us all along: The Roadside Inn. A neon vacancy sign said they were open for business. I ignored the fact that it was squat, badly painted, and consisted of five or six little green doorways all in a row, not to mention the line of motorcycles parked out front. All I wanted to do was get off the road, slip between some cool sheets, and watch the storm from relative safety.

  It didn’t take long for Ellen to get back with the keys. Within a few minutes, we were wedged inside a room in which one could open the dresser
from the bed, and with a little ingenuity, could probably brush one’s teeth from the bed as well, but I wasn’t about to complain. It was a bed, and we were out of the storm.

  I called Susan to let her know where we were and that we’d be a bit late. She laughed and asked what had happened to the girl who could drive through snowstorms all night for a party. I was too tired to defend myself, so I just chuckled and said she got old.

  The rest of the trip was unremarkable. Highway 70 can be as beautiful as it can be boring. The drive between Indiana and Ohio isn’t notable. It’s not yet the Appalachian Mountains in the East, and it’s not the rolling hills of Middle America or the magnificent deserts of the West. No, the road to Ohio is pretty much a ribbon of asphalt interrupted here and there with construction. All of this “nothing” is much more fun to see at night. We were very ready to be done traveling when we finally arrived at Susan’s mid-afternoon.

  “There’s their house. We made it,” I said, nearly leaping out of the car.

  “Are you going to help with the luggage?” Ellen asked.

  “I’ll get it after we settle in.”

  Susan opened the door as I ran up on the porch.

  “I was starting to worry about you two. Come on inside. Ellen, here, let me help you with that.” Susan grabbed one of the bags. As soon as we were in the door, I plopped down on Susan’s overstuffed couch and stretched my legs.

  “What can I get you two to drink?”

  “I’ll take a Captain Morgan and Coke,” Ellen said, and promptly joined me on the couch.

  “Gin and tonic for me.”

  “Coming up. Just relax. I’ll be out in a minute.”

  “Are you comfortable?”

  “Yes, except for one thing,” I put my feet in Ellen’s lap and laid my head on the couch’s armrest. “That’s better.”

  “You look relaxed, but I don’t think you can drink that way. Here you go. One for each of you.”

  I sat up and took the sparkling glass from Susan’s hands. I let the tangy liquid rest on my tongue for a moment before swallowing. A perfect blend of sweet and sour loveliness.

  “Where’s Kathy?” I asked. Susan and Kathy made a great couple. They’d been together so long it was unusual to see one without the other.

  “She went up to Giant Eagle to get last-minute munchies.”

  “Is there anything we can do?”

  “Nope.”

  “You know, in all the years I’ve known Aubrie, she’s never told me how you two met,” Ellen said, making conversation.

  “Kathy and I?”

  “No. You and Aubrie.”

  I almost choked on my drink. “That’s a long story.”

  “No it’s not,” Susan laughed. “You tried to get me to go out with you. Don’t you remember?”

  “So, that’s why you never told me.” Ellen leaned forward. “Let’s hear it.”

  “We were at this party, see—” I started, hoping for some damage control.

  “No, I want to hear Susan’s side of it.” Ellen shushed me.

  “It was at a party. I think I was seeing Mary back then. Anyway, Aubrie came up to me. We started talking, and, well, she asked me out.”

  “Did you go?”

  “Yeah,” I said, grinning. “Susan went out with me. We went out to dinner so she could tell me she wasn’t interested.”

  “Come on; it wasn’t that bad. I really enjoyed your company.”

  “It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship.” I smiled again and took another drink. I still found Susan’s athletic body and blue-green eyes wonderfully attractive, but had to admit we probably wouldn’t have made it as a couple. Susan had known who she was even then. It took me a lot longer to grow up. Correction: it’s taking me a lot longer to grow up.

  I looked at Ellen. We’d been together a long time. We were comfortable together. I still loved the contrast between her blue eyes and black curly hair even if her hair had more gray than black in it these days. I knew every wrinkle on her face, and knew we’d made something work that would last for a long time to come. I leaned across the couch and gave my lover a little peck.

  “What’s that for?”

  “So you don’t get the wrong idea about who I’m in love with.”

  Kathy made it back about then, so we all headed to the kitchen to make the hors d’oeuvres.

  “Catch me up on all the local gossip!” I said, wanting to know the scoop before everyone showed up.

  “What do you want to know?” Susan wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and picked up her drink.

  “All the gossip. Who’s with whom? Who’s broken up and why? Everything.”

  “Mary and Marta broke up about a year ago.”

  “Wait, they broke up, and you asked them both to your party?!” I took a drink. Mary and Marta had about five years under their belts the last time I was in town. They rehabbed houses together and were pretty successful at it. Mary had always seemed a little awkward, out of place, though, in a way I couldn’t quite explain.

  “God, Mary went straight, didn’t she?” I said putting it all together with a little click in my brain.

  “I wouldn’t exactly say it that way, but okay, yeah, she found Jesus or something. Anyway, she just couldn’t do it anymore. Marta said Mary didn’t come home one night, and that was it.”

  “So what the hell is Mary doing coming to the party?”

  “I guess Jesus didn’t quite do it for her,” Susan said, and raised her glass. “Some girl named Angela has the job now.”

  “Do we know her?”

  “No. I joke that Mary met her at some pray-away-the-gay program.”

  “Now that is truly funny.”

  “What about Teresa?”

  “Let’s see, she’s been dating Carla for a couple of years now. Oh, but you missed it. She tried to date Marta for a few months. Now that was truly funny.”

  “Talk about opposites attracting—tall versus short, practical versus intellectual. The list could go on forever.”

  “Teresa actually asked one my exes out.”

  “No way. Which one?”

  “Rhonda.”

  “That will never work. Teresa would just talk her to death.”

  “It looks like it might, actually. If I think about it, we’ve all kinda gone out with each other over the years.”

  “I knew I should have moved here.”

  “Hey, I’d heard you were going to be here tonight!” A husky voice broke into our conversation. I turned around and looked right into a pair of familiar baby blues.

  “Ann! How the hell are you doing?” I gave her a big hug. “It’s great to see you.” And it was. Ann taught Phys Ed at one of the local high schools. She had a strong, tight, little body, a short haircut, and glasses. Ann had a great mix of endearing features that made her cute and unbearably attractive to me. Unfortunately—or fortunately—she was blissfully, happily committed. The first time we met was at her and her lover’s ten-year anniversary party. I got just drunk enough to make an ass out of myself, but not so drunk as to actually say anything to her.

  I looked over Ann’s shoulder. “Where’s Deborah?”

  “I’ll let you two catch up.” Susan gave Ann a hug and headed toward the living room.

  “Debbie’s okay.”

  “Where is she?”

  “I think she’s out in Arizona at the moment.” Ann stood there looking at me. Somehow she seemed small and vulnerable. There was something she wasn’t saying.

  “Why aren’t you with her?” I probed.

  “We broke up.”

  “Oh, no! What happened? Wait. What do you want to drink?”

  “Oh, I brought my own martini setup. Why don’t I make you one?”

  “I wouldn’t say ‘no’ to that.” Ann mixed and poured and before I knew it, she was holding out a dirty gin martini. I reached to take it from her and nerves got the best of my hand. I’d never imagined that such a small glass of gin could actually get an entire floor wet. Ann la
ughed and made me another while I tried my best to wipe up the mess.

  “All right, put the martini on the counter. I’ll pick it up from there.” Ann, with some ceremony, put the martini on the counter. With equal ceremony I picked it up and raised a toast.

  “So finish telling me what happened.”

  “Deb got breast cancer about two years ago. No, don’t worry. She’s fully recovered. At least her body’s recovered.” It was Ann’s turn to drink.

  “I don’t know,” she continued, “I guess sometime last year, she just looked at me—at the house, the dogs, the cats, all the stuff we’d accumulated—and decided she wanted something different. The next thing I knew, she had packed her stuff, used our savings to buy a van, and was on her way.”

  “Fuck. What did you do?”

  “I got really depressed. You know the story.”

  “I don’t know how it goes after fifteen years.”

  “What about fifteen years?” Susan interrupted.

  “Ann and Deb broke up,” I said. “Where have you been, anyway?”

  “You didn’t even notice I was gone.”

  Susan smiled at me. “Why don’t you come out and mingle a bit? I just hate it when I throw a party and everyone ends up in the kitchen.”

  Ann shrugged and followed me into the living room. I stood a moment in the door. Everybody seemed to be waiting. They were looking at me.

  “What?” I said to no one in particular, very uncomfortable.

  “Well,” Ellen started. She stood up from the couch and came over. “It’s been hard to synch with your schedule these days, so we’ll just have to do it here, I guess, in front of our friends.”

  “Do what?” I scanned the room for a clue. They were all smiling up at Ellen and me.

  “Aubrie, I love you. We’ve been together for what seems like forever.”

  Someone snickered. It was Susan.

  “Sometimes it feels like forever,” I said, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

  Ellen took my hand and slipped a ring on my finger. “Aubrie, what I’m trying to say, to ask, is—will you marry me?”