Blind Acorn Read online

  She shook her head and left me sitting, speechless, in my office as she returned to work.

  Forty-One

  Gina had met me at the apartment one night at the end of August. Since the day we’d first seen it, we had never been there at the same time and it felt strangely awkward. Which of us was the host and which the visitor? She’d made the request for my scheduled day, so I guessed that I was the host. I offered her a drink after we’d greeted each other. She laughed. “I feel like you just offered me a drink in my own home.”

  I returned the laugh and we both sat down without refreshments. “So, what’s up?” I asked her.

  She drew a deep breath and said, “To begin at the end, I’ll just rip off the bandage. I’m moving to Santa Barbara in two weeks.” And she watched for my reaction.

  Not knowing how to react at first, I just stared. Finally, I found my voice and said, “I don’t understand. What do you mean? What’s in Santa Barbara and when will you be back?”

  She shook her head. “No, you don’t understand, I guess. I won’t be back at all. Well, maybe an occasional visit but I’m moving, Trin.”

  Again, I was dumbfounded. “Okay. Right. Moving.”

  “I’m sorry to spring it on you like this,” she began to explain. “It really is sudden, or I would have talked to you about it first. Jack has accepted a transfer because I said I’d go with him. He —we—only had a couple days to make a decision. It’s a wonderful opportunity for him, for us, and we could use a little bit of freshness in our lives. We —you and I —never really talked about what we did here,” waving her arm through the air of the apartment, “but I’ve been doing some soul-searching. When this came up, I knew it was time for me to recommit to my marriage, to Jack. And that’s what I’m doing.” She sat back and waited for me to respond.

  “Okay. Right.” I was repeating myself. “Well, first of all, I’m happy for you. Really! I know you well enough to know that you wouldn’t take a step like this if you weren’t completely ready for it. So —congratulations!” I did my best to smile sincerely. I was sincere, if also in shock. My best friend was about to be on the other side of the country, rather than the other side of town. I swallowed, trying to keep the shock and pain inside.

  “Oh, Trin,” she crossed the room and hugged me, “I’m so sorry. I will miss you more than even you can imagine. I’m hoping we can arrange vacations to meet in the middle somewhere. Regular long weekends, just us. What do you say? Will you work with me to make sure we see each other regularly?”

  I nodded as enthusiastically as I could. If this was the right thing for her, then I would be on board with it. As soon as I could absorb it. In the meantime, I returned the hug.

  “And,” she continued, “I don’t want to leave you with the burden of the rent here. I don’t know what you plan for the long term because we never talked about it. But I just went to the rental office on my way here. I prepaid the rent for the next twelve months. I hope that gives you enough time to make the decisions you need to make. And I know you’ll keep me posted on your progress, right?”

  “Oh. No!” I exclaimed. “Gina, I can’t let you do that. You don’t owe me anything at all! If not for you, I never would have done this at all. I’ve been thinking that it’s probably time to give it up, I just haven’t gotten around to talking to you about it. Let’s go there right now and get your money back.”

  She smiled. “No. It’s done. It was as much for me as for you that I did it. I’ll feel a little less like I’m abandoning you. It’s done.”

  “I don’t know what to say,” I replied. “I really don’t want you to do that. Let’s try to undo it, please?”

  “Done,” she shook her head, brushing her hands together at the same time. “But let’s talk about when we can get together and visit before I leave. Should we pick a day to meet here with a bottle of wine and a box of tissues?”

  I laughed. “No way! You don’t get out of town without a proper sendoff. I’m working on it already. I’ll be in touch.”

  Forty-Two

  Ten days later, we gathered to say farewell to Gina and Jack. I had, as promised, organized a suitable party. There were a dozen of us, old friends who managed to socialize on a somewhat regular basis. Rarely did we all do it at the same time, but this was an occasion to make a real effort. Despite the short notice, we all made whatever arrangements were necessary to gather and celebrate.

  It was a bittersweet time for everyone, but especially for me. Gina and I had always been the closest among our friends. And while she would miss me, she had a new adventure to contemplate and enjoy. I, however, felt only loss. I tried to be genuinely happy for her, I really did. And I knew it would come. But first I needed to suffer the loss.

  We met at Sautéed, a restaurant that I knew to be one of Gina’s favorites. Through a lot of wine and appetizers, we told stories and reminisced. It began to resemble a wake and I was relieved when Mitch finally asked, “So, Jack, tell us about this great opportunity.”

  He was happy to oblige and excitedly described the new job. There were a lot of questions about their plans, both short and long term. I found myself drifting away from the conversation and into my melancholia. I was feeling that the relationships that I valued most in life were all taking turns that led them away from me. Mitch was in his own world lately, the kids were growing up and flexing their independence muscles, and now Gina was leaving town. Leaving me.

  I hadn’t realized how long I’d been quiet when she leaned toward me and asked softly, “You okay?”

  “Of course,” I smiled and squeezed her hand. But she knew me well enough to see through the lie.

  “I know,” she said. “I’m feeling it, too. There’s a small panic forming in my gut at the thought of not having you in my backyard anymore. I’m trying not to let it out. It isn’t,” she hastened to add, “that I won’t miss you, won’t panic later. I’m just trying not to let it out yet.” I knew she meant it.

  “It’s peculiar,” I mused. “As much time as we’ve spent together, as much as we’ve talked, I suddenly feel like there’s so much I haven’t said. It feels like something is ending too soon. Let’s agree right now not to let this be the end of anything. Let’s make sure it’s just different for us. Different, not better, not worse. Just different. I can handle that. I think I’m good about change, aren’t I?”

  Gina laughed. “Sure, you are!” she said. “But, you’re right, this isn’t the end of something. It’s a beginning and I can’t wait to share it all with you as I go. You know I’ll do that. I don’t think I could face it if I didn’t know that you’re behind me all the way.” It was almost, but not quite, a question.

  “I’m your biggest fan,” I laughed, and she grabbed my hand as Jack came toward us with fresh drinks. I encouraged them to go mingle and wandered toward the windows, watching Mitch. He was a master at engaging people and making them laugh. As I watched him entertain Sam and Jules Westerly, I wondered when I had stopped being his favorite target for all that.

  I found Gina’s bag and slipped a small, hard plastic case into it when she wasn’t looking my way. The case held a pair of reading glasses, the frames a black and white striped zebra pattern. Tiny pink crystals encircled each lens. They were the gaudiest ones I could find. And I knew that they would now be a permanent part of the contents of any bag she carried. And that every time she saw them, she’d think of me. You can’t escape me that easily, Gina, I thought to myself with a sad smile.

  Forty-Three

  By the following Tuesday, I had completely worn myself out. I was so tired —tired of being suspicious, tired of being angry, tired of sadness, tired of secrets, tired of not liking myself. And I missed Gina already. And I still missed Mitch. For the first time in years, I called in sick and stayed home from work.

  Everyone else in the household went through their usual routines and left without noticing that I’d staye
d. I had the house to myself for the whole day. I didn’t even need to go to the apartment. In fact, I found that I didn’t want to go there. I liked being at home, it felt like the place I should be.

  Once the house was empty, I filled the tub and took a long, hot bath. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d done that and let my body and my mind soften in the heat. I was thinking about the mistakes I’d made and there seemed to be so many. Mostly, I was worried about what I’d done to my relationship with Mitch.

  From the start, I’d always tried to be respectful and honest. All my life, I’d watched my mother manipulate my father without qualm. I never understood why he allowed it (because I knew he was aware of exactly what she was doing). But he did. I was less agreeable to it, which may account for much of the tension in my relationship with her. And I vowed to myself that I would not do that to a partner, didn’t think I had done that to Mitch. But the honesty thing, I wasn’t doing that very well, I had to admit.

  I wondered if, by deciding not to take up the strings of manipulation and management, I’d let go of more than I should. Had I just disengaged and left him out of my life, kept myself closed off from him? It was possible. I was never good at sharing myself, except sometimes with Gina. Mitch and I used to say that we were a good team, but what did that really mean? Did we synergize and overcome, or did we divide up what needed to be done according to our talents? It seems that a marriage should do the former, but I was no longer sure we’d ever done that. Well, maybe in the beginning. But not lately; now we just got through. This was a very sad train of thought and the water was getting cold, so I got out of the tub and dressed.

  I moped down the stairs and made myself some herb tea. While it steeped, I glanced around the kitchen, seeing little details that needed my attention. There was some chipped paint in that doorway, and the light fixtures were dusty. This would be a great time to be productive, to take care of those, and other, little things. But I just didn’t have that kind of energy, couldn’t bring myself to care enough.

  Instead, I retreated to the living room and curled up on the couch, looking out the window and down the street, thinking about Lila and her strength, wishing I had more of that myself.

  What if Mitch was having an affair? The thought was unbearable, even if I had brought it on myself. The idea made me feel dizzy and short of breath. How could he! I very much needed to get to the truth of that rumor, the one I’d started myself.

  Stop! Stop feeling sorry for yourself! Do something! I told myself sternly. And, I was right. It was time to stop waiting for something good to happen and make it happen. It was time to make some decisions and take action. It was time to fix my own unhappiness, as soon as I could figure out how to do that. But there were some first steps that I knew I needed to take.

  Forty-Four

  We walked up the stairs quietly, both trying not to make any sound that would disturb our delicate equilibrium. Leading the way, I reached the door and, without hesitation, turned the key in the lock and opened it. I stood aside and gestured for Rona to enter first.

  I had asked her to come help me get some supplies. That was unusual, I had never before asked for her help with something like that. And I had lied.

  She had been reluctant, and I tried to act impatient, like the work just needed to get done. But I was more nervous than I expected to be. She stomped her way out to the car with me.

  On the drive, I explained to her what was really happening. I thought that once I had her captive, it would go easily. I’d been wrong.

  “Are you out of your mind?” she screamed, grabbing for the door handle. Seeing what was coming, I quickly locked all the doors so that she couldn’t open it. She looked at me, wide-eyed and frantic. “You really are nuts!”

  “No, I’m not nuts. Just calm down and listen to me for a minute.”

  “I cannot afford an apartment and I do not need your help. I will not go inside anywhere. This is kidnapping!” She continued to try to force the door open.

  “Rona!” I tried to cut through her apparent panic. “Just listen! I’m not trying to obligate you to anything, I’m asking you to do me a favor and come look at this place. There are special circumstances, which I will explain, and I could use your help.”

  She leaned back, crossed her arms, and glared out the windshield. Finally, she muttered, “Don’t have much choice, it seems.” She gave the door handle one last shake, and me a disgusted look.

  I sighed in relief, even if it was temporary, and said nothing more until I parked the car outside of the apartment house. “Here we are,” I tried to sound nonchalant. Rona glared.

  She followed me inside and I closed the door. “This apartment,” I explained, “is mine at the moment. I no longer need it. In fact, I will not be using it whether you agree to my offer or not. The rent has been paid for the next year. You would be doing me a favor if you would live here for the year, you and your daughter. Utilities are included in the rent, so the cost to you would be zero. There’s an elementary school two blocks south and the school year is about to begin. Will you consider it?”

  She didn’t say a word, but with a sharp intake of breath turned in a slow, full circle in the middle of the floor, taking in as much as she could. She glanced at a doorway and asked the question with her eyes. I nodded my assent and followed her through the living room. Together, we walked through each of the small bedrooms, the kitchen, and the bathroom, returning finally to the living room. Rona again asked questions with her eyes. “Let’s sit for a minute, shall we?” I suggested.

  She sat on the edge of the little green swivel chair and I smiled. That, I thought, is exactly where I would have sat if the circumstances were reversed. I took a seat on the sofa, trying not to look too much at home. This is no longer my home, I thought. It never was, though, was it?

  “There are a few things I should tell you,” I began in a matter-of-fact voice. “First of all, there is a drip in the bathroom sink if you don’t leave the handle in exactly the right position. You’ll get used to it, but it will make you crazy if you don’t learn exactly what that position is. And, there’s a squeaky spot in the floor between here and the kitchen. It’s there,” pointing, “right outside the threshold.”

  Rona seemed not to be listening as she continued to look around the room and at everything in it. Her gaze finally settled on me. “You’re sure about this?” was all she said. She was still defensive, probably still feeling that she had been lured here for some ill purpose, that it couldn’t possibly be as straightforward as I had presented it. And yet, it was.

  “I’ve seldom been more sure of anything,” I smiled. “It’s very simple, really. The rent has been paid for a full year, but I no longer have any need for the place. It’s yours for the year. I’ll tell the landlord that I’ve sublet it to you. If you’ve been a good tenant, he’ll have no reason not to let you stay after the year. You can begin to pay the rent yourself at that time. Or, you can find another place if you’d rather. Your choice. My gift to you is a year of time to figure out what you’re going to do next. That’s it. It’s up to you from here.” It was my turn to question with my eyes.

  She nodded, then cast her eyes to the floor. Long seconds passed, neither of us moved nor spoke. Finally, she looked up at me and shifted slightly back in her chair, a sign of acceptance, I thought. “Have you ever,” she asked quietly, “watched someone die? I don’t mean a sick person, or an elderly relative or anything like that. I mean violently. I mean murdered.”

  Suddenly uncomfortable, I shook my head.

  “A few years ago, I was staying with a friend in an apartment in the projects. There was really not enough room for all of us, Jazz was just a baby. It seemed like we were intruding so much that I tried to be out of the apartment as much as I could. We spent a lot of time walking through the projects and the playgrounds in the neighborhood. Jazz loved watching the other kids climb and swing —things sh
e wasn’t big enough for, but you could see that she could hardly wait.” She smiled at that much of the memory.

  “One day,” she continued, “we were on our way back to the apartment. It would be getting dark soon and I wanted to be inside. We were just a block away when I heard yelling behind us. Yelling wasn’t unusual there. Tempers erupt easily, and emotions are close to the surface when you don’t have much else. I just wanted to see where the trouble was and be sure we weren’t in its path.” She swallowed and paused, looking past the window at some point of memory. I began to wonder if that was the end of the story, the pause lasted so long. She uncrossed and re-crossed her legs, saying nothing.

  Having gathered whatever it was she needed Rona turned back to me. “There are a lot of families in the projects,” she explained. “Too many people in small spaces. I mean, look at this!” She waved her arm to take in the entire apartment. Small though it was, her arm thrown wide like that made it seem expansive. “You have all this space to yourself, one person!” She drew a long breath, as if even the air were in greater supply. She shook her head, not in disagreement but in wonder.

  “Well, I think Jazz will make it seem fuller and noisier for you,” I said with a hopeful smile. “Maybe she’ll even talk you into getting a puppy.”