Chapter 27

After that, it was just Lori and I in New York. I saw less of her because, instead of spending our Saturday nights watching Ray’s band, she would do whatever it was she did with Ray and I would go out with a few people from work. I suppose we were distancing ourselves from each other, as though the good-byes would be easier to bear by not needing to say them.

However, one Saturday afternoon, I found myself outside her apartment, listening to her play the flute again, when she suddenly stopped, opened the door and invited me in.

"How did you know I was out there?" I asked as I entered.

"Oh, I just kind of knew," she answered sweetly. Screw distancing, I missed her. "I haven’t seen you much lately."

"I know," I answered. "It’s a shame. I’m only here for about another month."

"Yes," she said sadly, "then no more Tom."

"I’m sure I’ll come back and visit, though."

"I hope so. But anyway, I figured since you were out there, I might as well invite you in to hear something."

"I’m all ears," I said as I took a seat.

She picked up the flute from the chair it was sitting on, Andrew’s old practice chair, and fiddled with the keys a bit before beginning.

It was quite a beautiful piece: evocative and very enjoyable, though lacking in a way I could not quite determine. She played through it from memory, leaving me impressed with her ease and familiarity with the music.

"What did you think?" she asked me upon finishing.

"Very impressive, but I can’t shake the feeling that it needs a little something."

"I’m glad you noticed that. It does sort of sort of miss something when you just hear the flute part."

"There’s more to it than that?"

"Yes, the whole piece was designed for interplay between the flute and a low-pitched instrument. But the flute part does okay on its own, don’t you think?"

"Who’s the composer?"

"Not a very well known one," she answered nonchalantly. Obviously, I did not need to look very far. "But anyway, how have you been?"

"Pretty good. I’ve been taking care of a few last minute things before I leave. My job hasn’t been too bad, since I’m basically done training people and I’ve passed off my more mundane responsibilities."

"So your work here is done?"

"Not quite, there are a few things I still need to do before I’m gone. How are things for you?"

"They’re good. Everything is okay in my life. No new adventures to speak of."

"I’m sure you’ll come up with some new ones."

"I always do," she replied with a broad smile. "Anyway, I wanted to ask you, what are your plans for tomorrow?"

"Nothing as of yet. Why? Do you have anything going on?"

"Not a thing. Would you like to spend the day with me?"

"I’d love to."

#

The day was balmy compared to the week before. We greeted the warm air and sunshine with a happiness that can only be understood by people who have been fighting through cold weather for the almost endless winter months. In usual conversation fashion, we discussed the merits of the blue sky and sunshine for probably half an hour.

Eventually, conversation turned to Lori’s wedding preparations. "Plans are coming along," was her vague description.

"Just ‘coming along’?" I asked her as innocently as possible.

"Yes, that’s what wedding plans seem to do. Put things in place, invite everybody and go ahead."

"I thought women were supposed to be all giddy about such things."

"Oh, I’m happy about them, I just don’t see the point in getting overly excited for something that isn’t going to happen for several months," she told me as she lit up a cigarette.

I shook my head at her. "I would have thought Andrew leaving would keep you from picking up the habit."

"I know, that’s what I would have thought. Life is strange isn’t it?"

"Indeed. So, does Ray know you smoke?"

"No," she answered shyly. "I’m going to quit before the wedding. I need to, I know, but I think getting married would be a lot of change anyway, why not quit smoking while I’m at it?"

"That’s one way of looking at it," I allowed. We walked quietly for a bit before I broached a subject I had given a lot of thought, but had never found a conclusion to. "Does Ray know about you?"

"I would hope so, considering we’re getting married," she responded with a laugh.

"No, I mean about the past. I mean with Andrew, Indiana, music, everything."

Her face took on a more serious expression. "No. And I don’t want him to know."

"I would think he’d notice a few years missing in your personal history."

"Maybe. I don’t know. I usually come up with something to cover that up, though. I don’t think that really concerns him."

"I think it would, what with him being your soon-to-be husband."

"No, it’s not any of his concern," she repeated.

"Why not?"

"Because Ray’s a jealous type. If I tell him about music, I’ll have to tell him about Indiana. If I tell him about Indiana, I’ll have to tell him about Andy. And I don’t want Ray to be jealous of Andy. Knowing Ray, he wouldn’t want me to ever see Andy again."

"I thought you were expecting to never see him again, anyway."

"He’ll be back sometime. The Berlin Philharmonic tours. They’ll come to New York. And I don’t want to miss out on seeing him because my husband doesn’t like him."

"You can’t hide it forever, Lori."

"I know, I know. But I can’t bring all this out just when everything is happening like it is. Maybe after the wedding. Sometime. I guess he’s going to need to find out about all that eventually, but I don’t want him to know just yet."

#

We did our usual tour of the city before we ended up at Weddleman’s again. It seemed that everything always came down to Weddleman’s.

"So where are you going on your honeymoon?" I asked as we sat down.

"I don’t know. Ray hates travelling."

"How can he hate travelling? He’s never done any."

"I think he just doesn’t like the idea of it. Getting away from New York, I mean. It seems to be the only place he likes."

"What about you? Where do you want to go?"

"Oh, I don’t know. Europe would be nice. Or out West somewhere. Maybe New Orleans, Andrew and I went there once and we had great time. I’d love to go back. But Ray’s such a stick in the mud when it comes to that sort of thing."

"I’m sure you can talk him into it."

"I don’t know, Ray can be pretty stubborn about things like that. And I don’t know if he would be willing to make that concession for me."

Before I could stop it, I told her, "Every male I know would make any concession for you, so I can’t imagine that Ray is any exception."

Lori gave me that ‘Are you an idiot?’ stare that they must hand out to New Yorkers when they receive their drivers’ licenses. "What are you talking about?"

Sometimes, it is best for a person to keep his big, dumb mouth shut. However, it is also, sometimes best to just let out what you have on your mind. Unfortunately, this was, as is the most common situation, one of the times when it was impossible to recognize the difference. So I decided that the second situation was more correct for no other reason than I felt the need to illuminate rooms left dark for far too long. However, it was not so much a case of allowing light to enter by throwing open the curtains. It was more a case of upchucking it onto the floor. "Lori, every man I know would move heaven and earth to just have a shot at being with you. For God’s sake, spending a day with you is one of the most remarkable experiences I’ve ever had in my life. Unfortunately, Ray seems to have gotten to you before anybody else could. I know Dennis up at the bar was especially hurt when he learned about your engagement. My friend Dan comes out here as much to see you as to see me. Men pass you on the street and they have a look in their eyes like they are seeing Helen of Troy. So to say that Ray wouldn’t make a concession to go someplace for your honeymoon, sorry, there’s no chance of that. You’re a rare and remarkable woman Lori. And every man who knows you is crazy about you."

She looked at me curiously, like this was a truly bizarre thing for me to say, because it was. The wheels in her mind took a quick turn forward and she asked, "Including you?"

I should have stopped there. Oh well. "Especially me. From the minute I first met you."

I studied her face for her reaction, but I was not sure what to make of the way she avoided my gaze and barely nodded. "That’s quite a bombshell."

"I know. I’m sorry. I guess I shouldn’t have said that."

"Why didn’t you tell me this before?"

"Because I knew you were dating Ray."

"So?"

"I’ve found it wise, in my few years on earth, not to put advances on another man’s girlfriend."

"Well," she responded with a slightly veiled anger, "for your talk of being willing to make any concession, you’re certainly willing to leave."

"There didn’t seem to be much point in staying. Not when you would always be expecting me to go."

"So you’re leaving because I expect you to leave?"

"That’s about it."

"That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard," she responded.

"It’s the truth."

"So what do you want me to do about it?"

"I don’t expect you to do anything about it. I don’t expect you to change your expectations and I can’t change the fact I accepted a job out in San Diego."

"Then why are you telling me this?"

"Why wouldn’t I? I’m gone soon."

"You’re telling me you’re crazy about me because it’s impossible for anything to come of it?"

"No, it’s more like a ‘now or never’ situation."

"Is that why you told me you’d make any concession for me?"

"I suppose so."

"So you can force me to tell you to stay or go?"

"If you want to look at it like that, yes. If you told me to stay, I’d stay."

I could tell she was angry with me. I was giving her too much information that was far too obtrusive on what was supposed to be a relaxing afternoon. I think she wanted a crushing retort to my last statement and, just when it seemed like one was ready to erupt, her face fell forward into her hands. "This is all so confusing," she muttered partly to me and mostly to herself. "Why does life have to be so confusing? Just once I wish it would make sense again."

The word ‘again’ bounced around my brain for second. "When did it ever make sense?" I asked her. I could not imagine she was the type whose life ever made any sense to anybody.

She gave a weak smile. Then she pulled out another cigarette and lit it carefully.

"It was when you were with Andrew, wasn’t it?"

She looked back at me with a start. I guess illumination was arriving in some very surprising corners.

"You really do miss him. Don’t you?"

"Yes I do," she admitted. "More than you can imagine."

"Why didn’t you do anything while he was here?"

"Because I just couldn’t, okay? Because that would risk everything. That would risk our friendship and I couldn’t afford to lose that. If he didn’t want to start over again, then he might leave. Damn it," she said as she crushed out a hardly-smoked cigarette just before she lit up another, "I’m supposed to be getting on with my life. None of is supposed to come up again."

"But it is coming up."

"Yes it is."

"And Andrew left you anyway."

"Yes he did."

"And you’re getting on with your life by marrying Ray."

"That’s exactly it."

"Why?" I asked pointedly. I felt like I deserved an answer to that question.

I could tell that was a question she did not expect to be asked. She held her gaze evenly at me for so long that I knew her answer before she admitted, "I don’t know. I don’t remember."

Some solutions to problems are so obvious that a person cannot help but look for other ones. It is as though finding the more complicated solutions will make life easier. By searching for complexity, we feel like we are doing something. But the important question is not whether we are ‘doing’. The question is whether we are ‘accomplishing’. And the answer to the latter is, all too often, ‘no’. It was at that moment, by showing her the answer that was simplest, I performed for Lori the one service that I ever provided her. "Lori, you can’t keep hiding forever. So for God’s sake," I told her, "buy a plane ticket and go see him."

She looked at me with a simultaneously confused and enlightened resolve. Like I had just discovered gravity. "You know what?" she replied, "I think I’ll do just that."