Chapter 2: CHAPTER TWO
May 13, 1989: PART II / January 12 to January 13, 1993.
***
We don’t even part long enough to prepare for a date night. There is no “I’ll pick you up at seven” or “I’ll meet you there.” We don’t even want to spend that much time apart.
Instead, he drives us to Amore Mio, a fancy Italian restaurant two miles from the university. The lunch rush is over, and dinner hasn’t begun, so we have the entire restaurant to ourselves.
I expect the wait staff to be annoyed. They could be putting their feet up for a few minutes and decompressing after the rush, rather than waiting on us.
I shouldn’t have worried. A young man in a crisp white shirt and slate tie grins at Layne. “Mr. DuMar, welcome back. Who is your lovely date?”
“Antonio, this is Sam.”
“It’s wonderful to meet you. Mr. Sugar rarely has anyone with him. Your normal table?”
“That would be great.”
Antonio grabs menus and shows us to our seats as if we needed a guide through the crowd. It’s adorable.
Layne pulls out my chair before sitting across from me, and he doesn’t bother opening his menu. Instead, he’s leaning against the pristine tablecloth, staring at me.
“It’s not polite to stare,” I say playfully.
“I can’t help it. You’re gorgeous.”
“What are you ordering?”
“Mezzelune.”
“What should I order?” I ask, closing my menu.
“Risotto.”
“I love risotto!” I say, gently swatting his hand.
“Maybe I already knew that,” he says, placing his thumb on top of my fingers.
Sparks.
The waiter brings over a bottle of white wine and pours us each a glass. Layne orders for us. Smoked parmigiano reggiano mezze lune for him, risotto alla Milanese for me.
“How do you like teaching?” I ask.
“I love it,” he says, stroking my hand. “I’ve always known I wanted to teach. I wasn’t sure which grade for a while, but I find teaching college students extremely rewarding. What about you? Do you like your job?”
“I love my boss, and I love the company. That’s what’s most important to me. Although the paperwork can get a bit dull at times, I like what I do, but I’m not sure that I would take the same job anywhere else. I was one of Tom’s first hires, just days after I graduated college, and I can’t imagine working for anyone else.”
“Sounds like you really lucked out,” he says. “Dr. Addison, my boss, he’s… a little rough around the edges. A little pretentious. A little humility can go a long way.”
I can’t take it all the way over here. The table feels like a continent between us.
I scoot my chair back and move to the one closer to him. “Better,” I say.
“I’ve missed you,” he laughs.
His laugh is intoxicating, contagious.
“What do you want to do after this?” I ask.
“It’s nice out. I was thinking about taking a stroll around the lake or bird-watching in the park. Some place where I can hold your hand and enjoy the world with you.”
“Are you always this cheesy?”
“You know the crazy thing? I’m really not. I’m articulate, funny, and laid-back. You’re not getting to see the real me because I’m so lovestruck.”
“Well, I want to get to know the real you, so should I tell you things that remove the lockstruckness? Is that a word? That’s not a word, is it, Professor?”
“Definitely not.”
“There’s your first thing. I won’t have your academic vocabulary. I also own too many outfits because I’m constantly hitting up the good sales. I’m an only child, so I’m not sure I ever really learned how to share. I never make my bed. When I was seven, I ate the last piece of my birthday cake, even though I was supposed to be saving it for my cousin.”
He raises his eyebrows. “You thought that those things would be enough to take away this feeling? Didn’t even make a dent, Sam!”
I click my tongue. “What about the fact that I live well over a thousand miles away?” Strangely, saying that aloud makes me sad, deeply sad.
He shakes his head. “Doesn’t matter. Planes and phones both exist now. We can make it work.”
“Is that… Did you just propose a relationship?”
“I think I did.” He chuckles. “And while I’m putting it all on the table, I want it to be exclusive. I want only you.”
“You don’t even know me,” I say.
“I feel like I’ve known you my entire life. Besides,” he says with a slight shrug, “I already knew you liked risotto.”
“I’d like to mock you,” I say, “but I feel it too.”
He kisses my knuckles. “So you’ll give us a shot? Try a long-distance relationship?”
I lean against the table and kiss him. “Why the hell not?
/***/
I’m in the bathroom, changing into my navy suit, when Paul arrives with coffee, just like he does every morning.
“Hey, buddy,” I hear him say. “I have to admit I envy your sleep. With Sam, the court case, and the baby, I’m pretty restless these days. Did Sam read to you last night? I bet. Well, I have some calls to make and papers to type, but I’ll be here if you decide you want to talk.”
I open the bathroom door, throw my pajamas into a canvas bag, and pick up my purse.
He hands her a styrofoam cup of coffee. “Sam, you should eat something.”
“I don’t want to be late,” I tell him. “Thanks for the coffee.” And I duck out before he can hug me.
***
I turn on the car radio to hear a sad blues saxophone breaking the silence. “I’m sorry, Layne. I’m trying.”
The buildings pass in a daze until I pull into my parking space. “I’d give anything not to be in Minneapolis with you instead of pulling into this space every morning. Anything.”
I attempt to smile, but it’s gone before I reach the double doors. The efficient, upbeat Sam that my coworkers had grown to love is covered in filth, and no amount of forged emotion can wash it away.
I wave at the people I pass and climb the stairs to the third floor. I no longer take the elevator to avoid being stuck in a metal box with pitying people.
I sit in the leather chair behind my mahogany desk and turn on my computer. I buzz Hilda, and she gives me a quick overview of the itinerary: phone conference at two, meeting at four, imported shipment tomorrow, meeting with Tom on Thursday at two. I nod along, listening as much as I’m able. I have new phone messages from Carrie, Sylvia, Jordan, and Veronica.
“Veronica called?”
“Yes, ma’am. Just a few minutes ago.”
“Thank you, Hilda.”
Hilda leaves, and I dial my lawyer.
“It’s Sam. What’s going on?”
“How do you feel?” Veronica asks, sympathy oozing through the phone.
“Very tired.”
“Yesterday was pretty bad, but don’t give up. I think Tavin berated you so terribly because he’s out of ideas. He’s trying to win by brute force. Judge Knox was not impressed with his tactics. We go back to court at 9:00 on Thursday. Tavin has to present hard evidence that you were in it for the money, or Knox will make his ruling.”
“I have a meeting with my boss that afternoon. Do I need to reschedule?”
“I wouldn’t. I think this will be short and painless… well, relatively speaking.”
“If we win, can they appeal?”
“Yes, but by then, you’ll have already made your decisions. Don’t do anything drastic for the next forty-seven hours. After that, we’ll talk.”
“I’ll see you Thursday morning.”
We disconnect, and I go through my routine: return the calls, respond to the emails, call the vendors, and prepare for the meetings.
And try not to count the seconds until I can leave.
***
The next day is more of the same. I go through the motions of the day, and I’m beyond frustrated with the world by the time I return to the hospital. I stay in my car for ten minutes, taking deep breaths, readying myself for conversations with Paul and the medical staff.
Finally, I head inside, and I find Paul removing the lids from Tupperware containers. “Hey,” he says, “you’re just in time for dinner. Tonight, it’s breakfast.”
I think he’s trying to be funny, but I’m too tired to laugh. “Thanks.”
He hands me a container of scrambled eggs, hashbrowns, and sausage. Thirty-three weeks ago, I was a vegetarian. But now… why bother?
“Veronica thinks the Du Mars will appeal, but I’ll have already made decisions by then.”
He wipes his mouth. “That’s true. I guess we’ll know which part they’re fighting for.”
“I think we already know that,” I say cynically. I bite into my sausage. “You know I intentionally haven’t asked you.”
“You mean if I knew about the money?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you want me to tell you?”
“Not tonight. Tomorrow, I may have some questions.”
“I’ll answer them.”
I don’t bother saying anything else. There’s really nothing left to say.
***
After I change into pajamas, I hold Layne’s hand. “What would you do?” I ask him. “If you were me, what would you do? I know you’re a fighter. You were always a fighter. Hell, I used to be too, but I’m just not that person anymore. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be that person again.”
I pat his hand and blink back tears. “I want you to know that whatever happens tomorrow, I’ll always love you. The time we spent together was nothing but bliss. If I had it to do all over again, I would in an instant.”
Tonight, I don’t pick up the book. I simply stroke his hand and listen to the harmonizing machines. “Do you remember what it was like before, love? Before this nightmare? Let me remind you of our blissful dating life that made us the envy of all of our friends.”