Across the Pond Read online

  Debs and I had no problem with this. After being chocolated-out by Monday’s stash of cookies, we had successfully avoided office goodies altogether, hoping the admin secretary took the hint and stopped baking. But by Thursday, she showed no sign of letting up, and we gave in, sneaking one cookie each, so as not to alert anyone we weren’t giving one hundred percent. Besides, neither of us felt we needed to be perfect in order to be healthy. We high-fived to moderation as we nibbled at our indiscretion in the supply room when no one was looking. Only a handful of coworkers fell off the wagon, more than once, and some stayed off. I figured non-compliance into the success rate percentages—it was inevitable.

  By the time I left work on Friday, stopped for a session at the gym, and then headed for home, I was floating on air, already planning extra cuddle time with Faith. Debs had finalized the Azteks and left a huge non-refundable deposit, and I had impulsively bought tickets that day for both me and Faith before leaving work, even though I hadn’t asked Faith about it yet. I wanted to surprise her with the tickets over dinner one night soon. I could already imagine the excitement on her face when I told her. Sure, it was a bit risky to buy the tickets before asking, but surely, work wouldn’t send Faith anywhere over Christmas or New Year’s; what restaurant would want someone poking her nose into their set routines during one of the biggest customer spending seasons?

  Yes, I was certain it was a done deal. Even if work tried to schedule her, Faith would get out of any obligation to see the Azteks; I was sure of it.

  I pulled the Mazda into the driveway beside Faith’s Camry, surprised she had beaten me home. I glanced at my watch, verifying that she was an hour earlier than usual and grabbed my briefcase off the floor by the passenger seat. Followed by the seventy-five laps Debs and I had done in forty-nine minutes, seeing Faith home waiting for me for a change had me on endorphin overload.

  The gravel under my rubber soles had a nice feel to it. Maybe we shouldn’t pave the driveway after all, I thought. I juggled my work stuff along with my new purchases and a Ziploc baggie filled with the leftover cookies Debs insisted I take, because Playboy Bunny had gone rabid, and the result was non-stop baking. At Debs’s suggestion, I planned to hide the cookies in the freezer as an emergency stash for when the test pilot ended and Faith was not on the lookout. I prepared myself for a battle of lock and key when the front door swung open the minute I arrived at the top step.

  Faith held a briefcase and an overnight bag in each hand. Her handbag was slung across her chest. Every hair was in place. She smelled nice too.

  “Where are you going?” I asked.

  “Oh Janalyn, I left you a note. Something happened, and I’m flying into BWI tonight.”

  “No! Where are you flying to?”

  “A new client with an upscale restaurant in Georgetown. I’m not even at liberty to reveal the name of the establishment. This is a huge make-or-break deal; I can’t afford to miss this one.”

  I dreaded another weekend alone. “For how long this time?”

  “One or two days, tops; maybe three. I’ll call as soon as I know the details.”

  “But you only just got home Monday, and it’s the weekend.” I looked down at my feet, vacillating between exploding with anger and bursting into tears.

  “I know.” At least she had the decency to look positively despondent. “Come here, you.”

  I dropped my stuff on the floor by our feet and fell into her arms. She smelled absolutely gorgeous. I could have wept. I mumbled into her neck. “It’s almost Christmas. I thought we’d go shopping, buy new outfits, gifts and—”

  “You don’t have to remind me, but you know what it’s like. I’m close to this promotion, so close I can’t blow it.”

  “Please, cancel your trip. Don’t go.” Sounding more like a crybaby by the second, I did my best not to whine; it wasn’t working. “Please conference call or e-mail or whatever you can. I’ll give you plenty of space to work from home. Please.”

  “You know I need to see for myself before I assess the situation. Besides, I can hardly sample their menu online. You know that, Janalyn. I’ll miss my flight.”

  “I’ll take you to the airport.”

  “I’ve already prepaid the parking at the airport. This way, you won’t have to worry if I get back early or late.”

  “Debs booked The Azteks for the holiday party this year. Please promise you’re not working through Christmas too.”

  Faith stopped dead for a split second, the wild look of excitement about the prospects of spending the night dancing to salsa performed by none other than Manhattan’s own, obviously gave her something to contemplate. But as quickly as I caught the fervent excitement of a true fan in her eyes, it was gone: she pursed her lips and shook her head.

  “No? Please tell me you can take one night off.” Disappointment solidified into anger. “The party’s two weeks away. Surely you can switch with someone.”

  “Janalyn, please. Don’t make this harder than it has to be. You’ll make me late. We’ll discuss it when I get back. Now give me a kiss, and I’m off.”

  With nothing more I could say or do to persuade her to forgo this assignment, I simply went back into the house and closed the old oak door without even watching her leave. She was right: the promotion would be great for her and would help us with all the repairs and bills; our costs in this area were indeed formidable. I’d lived in an apartment for so long before buying my first house, I had no idea what a huge undertaking and money pit an old vintage house like this would turn out to be.

  I looked around the house we called home. Sometimes I envied Debs and her recently updated digs; all she had to do was freshen up the paint and redecorate. Faith and I had already upgraded the electrical system, repaired the heating several times, and put in a new hot water heater, after we’d realized we couldn’t flush the toilet, run the sink, and take a shower at the same time. In fact, after doing a load of laundry in warm water, forget about running a bath or using hot water at all, because not only did it waste electricity, we also had to wait at least thirty minutes for the water to heat up again. What in the beginning had been a romantic, rustic home had soon turned into something chronically annoying.

  Faith was right to work hard. She was always right. Who was I to complain when all she wanted was to make our lives easier? I fingered the anniversary present around my neck and felt a pang of guilt. I loved her so much, it hurt to be apart, but I would be okay. There was plenty for me to concentrate on here. Maybe it was as good a chance as any to catch up on work from home. At least we had the latest computer equipment at home; Faith’s overtime certainly helped on that account.

  Suddenly, I couldn’t wait for her to arrive wherever she was headed, so I could call and make it up to her.

  CHAPTER 3

  After Faith got home from Georgetown, she didn’t mention any other trips on the horizon, but she was unusually quiet during dinner. She barely touched the crustless quiche I had whipped up with the odds and ends left in the fridge. And I could hear myself chew and swallow; I hated that.

  I finished another forkful of quiche and bit the end of the sweet potato, skin and all. Washing it down with a gulp of seltzer, I hiccupped. Faith usually laughed when carbonation made me hiccup, saying something silly like, “Need drinking lessons?” to which I sometimes sang, “How dry I am…” But this time, the silence between us was deafening.

  Unable to believe I even had to ask, I finally did anyway: “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing, just tired.”

  It wasn’t like her to be moody. I patted the top of her hand. “When was the last time you had a full check-up?” She didn’t turn up her palm so we could intertwine our fingers as usual.

  “I have regular check-ups; you know that. I’m just tired, so can we give it a rest?” She had just made a pun, and she didn’t e
ven smile about it. She just stood and took her plate over to the garbage can, dumping untouched food.

  “Well, that was a waste,” I said.

  “I’m sorry, I’m not very hungry. I’ll be upstairs answering e-mails.”

  “Fine.”

  I had done the bulk of the dishes as I had prepared dinner, so there wasn’t much left to wash by hand. After the plates, glasses and silverware were stacked on the draining board, I wiped my hands on a dishtowel and busied myself to avoid dwelling on what was going on in Faith’s mind. I covered the Pyrex dish of leftover quiche with foil. I could eat it again, but probably wouldn’t. I then contemplated packing a lunch for the next day. Absently, I opened the refrigerator, stared inside without seeing a thing, and shut the door.

  With no reason left to delay any further, I mounted the staircase. Colonial-style houses were notorious for long and winding staircases, suitable for grand exits and entrances. Imagine running up the stairs at Tara in Gone with the Wind. It didn’t matter that I wasn’t wearing a rib-crushing corset and cumbersome attire that weighed a ton: the heaviness in my chest increased with each step I took, until I felt like I should be gasping as I headed to the guest bedroom, which doubled as a study where Faith was busy right now, answering e-mails.

  Her back was to me as I entered the study. Lost in thought, I looked around the room, each side with its own desk, filing cabinet, built-in shelving, and sofa bed.

  We never had guests. Faith wasn’t even around enough to invite them anyway. While it had never bothered me before, in this moment, it made me furious. My family had only stayed for dinner once in the whole time we had been living here. I resolved right then and there to invite them again soon, with or without Faith.

  “What are you working on?” I asked.

  Faith quickly closed her e-mail and turned to face me. “Work stuff—nothing too exciting.”

  “I’ll go wash up. Maybe there’s a good movie on TV.” Not that I could concentrate on anything, but what was the use of dwelling on things beyond my control? I hoped whatever had Faith acting out-of-character would be resolved, the quicker the better.

  “I’ll be in soon.”

  It took a lot to get me worked up. It wasn’t like Faith had never been in a bad mood before. She’d have her rant and be done with it, problem solved and soon forgotten. But I didn’t know what to do with her quiet distress. I internalized endless possibilities of disaster.

  This was ridiculous. Shaking my head to clear my mind of wasteful clutter, I prepared a steamy shower; that would calm me.

  Faith was in bed reading when I was finished in the shower. I flashed my naked body before her, but her response didn’t promise an invitation to play, so I chucked the towel in the hamper and slipped into my PJs. It had been almost a week, and we hadn’t had sex; I couldn’t stand it a minute longer.

  I sat on my side of the bed. She continued to read from a food service journal.

  “Is everything all right, Faith?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Then why do I get the feeling you’re not telling me something?”

  “Because you’re paranoid,” she snapped.

  What she said wasn’t as harsh as the way she said it. I couldn’t think of anything I had said or done to deserve this unfair treatment. I doubted it was PMS: Faith had been on the pill since before we met. I thought it was odd for a lesbian to be on oral contraceptives, but Faith claimed the hormones in the pill kept her PMS under control and helped lessen her monthly flow.

  “Please just tell me what’s on your mind.”

  She placed the magazine down and scooted over for a hug. “Oh Janalyn, I’m sorry I’m being such a bitch. I really hate this, but—”

  “But?”

  “I know you want me to come with you to your Christmas party, and you know I love the Azteks, but something did truly come up at work, and I have to go.”

  I pulled away, feeling the wound all over again. “I had already purchased a ticket for you.” Unable to stifle the tremor, I raised my voice. “It wasn’t cheap.”

  “I know, that’s why I feel—”

  “I don’t care how you feel, Faith.” The anger rose within me like mercury in a thermometer held under a flame. “I’ve done the math, and you know what? My calculations tell me that this past month alone, you’ve put business ahead of us sixty percent of the time. You’ve been away eighteen days. It’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

  Silence ensued until it made me sick.

  “Say something? Is your job really more important to you than I am?”

  “No, never. Only—”

  “Oh save it. We didn’t get to see the foliage or go apple picking. You didn’t have Thanksgiving with us, disappointing not just me but my parents too. I’m sick to death of spending holidays, weekends and even weeknights alone. I’m sleeping in the other room.”

  I stormed out, taking my pillow with me. My mother always said the key to a good relationship was never to go to bed mad, but to hell with that. I deserved to be hurt, angry and disappointed. Who wouldn’t?

  It was cold in the guest room. Decorative pillows and sofa cushions went flying as I flung them onto the floor, knocking over the wastebasket, spilling crumpled papers. I didn’t bother to clean the mess, but instead opened the sofa bed, grumbling at the sight of a bare mattress. Having little energy left in me to make up a bed, I just closed it back up and prepared to sleep on the couch.

  Once settled, I pulled the blanket up to my chin and sulked. Never mind that I couldn’t get the money back for the ticket, I had told everyone she was going. Even Patrick, our company dinosaur, who I thought would be the biggest homophobe on the planet said he was happy he’d finally get to meet my girlfriend at the Christmas party. I had been looking forward to showing Faith off.

  Faith went to great lengths to cheer me up, leaving me little surprises, such as a small notepad with a skinny pen that fit inside a jacket pocket, because I was forever jotting down things I mustn’t forget. She left a stuffed puppy holding a heart by my pillow and even bought us tickets to the theater in May, third row center to see Billy Elliot. It was impossible to stay mad for long.

  Christmas came and went with Faith working as usual, but she tried her best to be home more than she was away. I had helped Debs with a lot of the planning for the work Christmas party, so that helped ease the pain as well. The Azteks were amazing, and we managed to throw one heck of a good company party, if I do say so myself. It was a shame Faith had missed it, but after the fight we’d had, things between us seemed to improve. Whenever she was around, I felt closer to her than ever. My outburst had served as a wake-up call for her, it seemed. It eased my mind, knowing that she would do anything not to lose me, as if she ever could.

  Unfortunately, it wasn’t long into the new year before Faith’s out-of-state assignments stretched out again to longer chunks of time. I couldn’t keep track if she was in Dallas, Miami, San Francisco, Chicago, or any other place that wasn’t with me where she belonged. I suppose another woman would have suspected Faith might have a little chickie on the side, but I knew better and never doubted Faith for a second.

  After another lonely weekend, I went back and forth between wondering if we should consider adopting a puppy. But I still couldn’t believe how much I had accomplished during another weekend home alone. Aside from running and a bit of gardening, I stayed in, worked, and cleaned. I didn’t even call Debs, not wanting to make her cancel her date just to cheer me up. As long as I kept up a constant pace, I was fine. The moment I stopped to relax, I became restless.

  They say April showers bring May flowers, and boy did it rain. But the dreary weather, while good for all I had planted, made it a ton less painful that Faith wasn’t there to share the outdoors with me. I ended up ahead of the game on my latest project. I let myself
become caught up in work, even with tedious tasks, just to keep my mind off Faith traveling so often. But, feeling lonesome for my lover had its advantages too: my heart certainly grew fonder in Faith’s absence, and when we finally had the luxury of spending time together, we sure made the most of it.

  But this had to end sometime.

  As the Monday mornings I awoke without Faith piled up over time, I began arriving at the office a few minutes early; there was no sense lingering in an empty bed. By ten a.m., the air around my cubicle was hot and stuffy as usual. Scott Spencer rented three floors of office space from absentee landlords who didn’t care much about their tenants, only about collecting the obscene rents on time. They either blasted us with heat starting from Thanksgiving or didn’t start the air-conditioning until after Memorial Day.

  But heat wasn’t why I had the top three buttons of my blouse open. Certainly not for the first time, I grabbed my pocket mirror to check the clasp of my new necklace and examine the way it sparkled. Even four months later, it shone as brilliantly as the day Faith clasped it to my neck.

  “You’re a changed woman, Janalyn,” Debs said from her desk.

  “How do you mean?”

  “You are having an affair with a necklace.”

  I stuck my tongue out at her. “I am not!” I then turned serious. “This is just a mere trinket, but Faith gave it to me, so it’s my duty to protect it as a token of our love.”

  “Gag me.” Debs went back to her computer and typed away about a hundred words a minute.

  I ignored her and checked my necklace again. Sure enough, the solitaire diamond was definitely not a figment of my imagination. It was a tangible testament to how much I meant to Faith. She had spent a pretty penny on it, and I was delighted to think that she had gone to such great pains to secretly buy the necklace without me having an inkling until I opened the box.