Sarah and I met for lunch a week before my birthday. The buds on the trees had grown into green leaves and the planters lining the sidewalks held spring flowers. So far, May had been unseasonably warm. We sat on the patio of the restaurant and ordered iced tea.
“What are you doing for your birthday?” Sarah asked, opening her menu.
“I don’t know. T.J. asked me the same thing. I’m happy staying in.” I told her how T.J. and I had celebrated my last birthday on the island. How he’d pretended to give me books and music. “This time, he’s getting me something I mentioned I wanted. I have no idea what it could be.”
The waitress refilled our iced tea and took our order.
“How’s the job search going?” Sarah asked.
“Not good. Either there really aren’t any openings, or they just don’t want to hire me.”
“Try not to let it get you down, Anna.”
“I wish it was that easy.” I took a drink of my iced tea. “You know, when I got on that plane almost four years ago, I had a relationship that was going nowhere and an even slimmer chance of starting a family of my own, but at least I had a job I loved.”
“Someone will hire you eventually.”
“Maybe.”
Sarah peered at me across the table. “Is that all that’s bothering you?”
“No.” I told her about what happened at Trader Joe’s. “I still want the same things, Sarah.”
“What does T.J. want?”
“I’m not sure he knows. When we left Chicago, he just wanted to hang out with his friends and get back to the life he had before the cancer. His friends have moved on without him, though, and I don’t think he’s figured out what to do next.” I told Sarah about T.J.’s trust fund and she raised an eyebrow.
“In his defense, he’s not spoiled by it. But he’s not motivated, either.”
“I see your point,” she said.
“I’m waiting again, Sarah. Different reasons, different guy, but four years later I’m still waiting.”
Chapter 60 – T.J.
The dog bounded into Anna’s apartment and almost knocked her over. She bent down and it licked her face. I dropped the leash on the coffee table and said, “Happy birthday. I couldn’t get that thing in a box if I tried.”
She stood up and kissed me. “I forgot I told you I wanted a dog.”
“Golden retriever. Full-grown. From a shelter. I’ve been looking everywhere. They told me someone found him wandering by the side of the road, no collar, or tags. Skin and bones.” When Anna heard that she dropped to her knees and hugged the dog, petting its soft fur. It licked her again, thumped its tail, and ran around in circles.
“It seems healthy now,” she said.
“You’re not gonna name it Dog, are you?” I teased.
“No. That would be silly. I’m going to name it Bo. I’ve had the name picked out for a long time.”
“Then it’s a good thing it’s a boy.”
“He’s the perfect gift, T.J. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you like him.”
***
Anna still hadn’t found a teaching job by the middle of June. She had an interview that went well, at a high school out in the suburbs. She blew it off when she didn’t get the job, but she had trouble falling asleep that night, and I found her in the living room reading a book with Bo’s head in her lap at three in the morning.
“Come back to bed.”
“I’ll be there in a minute,” she said. But when I woke up the next morning her side of the bed was still empty.
She filled her days babysitting Joe and Chloe, reading, and going for long runs. We spent hours outside, either on her small terrace or at the dog park with Bo. We watched the Cubs play at Wrigley Field, and we went to concerts in the park.
She seemed restless, though, no matter how busy we kept ourselves. She stared off into space sometimes, lost in thought, but I never quite had the balls to ask her what she was thinking about.
Chapter 61 – Anna
“Look what came in the mail,” I said when I walked in the door, dropping my keys on the table.
T.J. sat on the couch watching T.V. Bo slept beside him.
“What is it?”
“It’s the registration form for the GED preparation class. I called the other day and asked them to send information. I thought you could sign up, and I could start helping you study.”
“I can start in the fall.”
“They have summer sessions, though, and if you start now, you can finish by the end of August and then maybe enroll at a community college in September. If I manage to find a teaching job, we can both be at school all day.”
T.J. clicked off the television. I sat down beside him, scratching Bo behind the ears. Neither one of us said anything for a minute.
“At least one of us should be able to get on with their lives,” I said.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.
“I can’t find a job. You can go to school.”
“I don’t want to be cooped up inside all day.”
“You’re inside right now.”
“I was just waiting for you to get home so we could take Bo for a walk. What are you really trying to say, Anna?”
My heart started pounding. “We can’t keep trying to re-create the island here in this apartment.”
“This apartment is nothing like the island. We have everything we need.”
“No, you have everything you need. I don’t.”
“I love you, Anna. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” His words carried an unspoken meaning. I’ll marry you. We’ll have a family together.
I shook my head. “You can’t know that, T.J.”
“Of course not,” he said sarcastically. “How could I possibly know what I want? I’m only twenty.”
“I’ve never talked down to you because of your age.”
He threw his hands up. “You just did.”
“There are things you need to finish. And so many things you haven’t had a chance to start. I can’t take that away from you.”
“What if I don’t want those things, Anna? What if I want you instead?
“For how long, T.J.?”
Realization dawned on his face. “You’re afraid I won’t stay?”
“Yes,” I whispered. “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.” What if T.J got tired of playing house, and decided that settling down wasn’t what he really wanted?
“After all we’ve been through together you don’t trust me enough to believe I’ll stick around?” The hurt in his eyes turned to anger. “Bullshit, Anna.” He walked over to the window and stared outside. Turning back around he said, “Why don’t you just say what you really mean? That you want to look for someone your own age.”
“What?” I had no clue where he’d gotten that idea.
“You’d rather have a guy that’s older. Someone people don’t treat like a kid.”
“That’s not true, T.J.”
“There’ll always be some asshole who thinks he can hit on you right in front of me. They don’t take me seriously. To them, you’re the one killing time. Did you ever think that I might worry about you leaving me?”
An emotionally charged silence filled the apartment. The minutes felt like hours as both of us waited for the other to say that our fears weren’t justified, but neither of us did.
I thought it would hurt less if I ripped the band-aid off quickly. “You need to be on your own, T.J., and know what that’s like before you can be sure you want to be with someone.”
The look on his face was pure anguish. He crossed the room and hesitated, standing only a few steps away from me, staring into my eyes. Then he turned his back on me and walked out the door, slamming it behind him.
I didn’t sleep that night. I sat on the couch in the dark, crying into Bo’s fur. The next morning I left the apartment early, having promised Sarah I’d watch the kids while she and David went to Sunday brunch
. When I got back I discovered T.J. had ripped off a band-aid of his own because all his things were gone and his key to my apartment was on the kitchen table.
It hurt like hell.
Chapter 62 – T.J.
Ben and I rented a two-bedroom apartment for the summer, on the third floor of an old building four blocks from Wrigley Field. His parents moved to Florida after telling him they were tired of the snow and cold. Ben didn’t mind since he and his older brother both went to college out of state, but he needed somewhere to live until classes started back up in the fall.
“You wanna get a place with me, Callahan?” he’d asked. “We can party like nobody’s business.”
“Why not,” I’d answered. If Anna was so determined not to have me miss out on anything, sharing an apartment with my best friend was probably a step in the right direction.
Ben was majoring in finance and accounting and he somehow managed to land an internship at a downtown bank. He had to wear a tie every day.
I talked my way into a construction job, and I was out in the suburbs every morning by 7:00 a.m., framing houses. I caught a ride with a guy on the crew, and he taught me everything I needed to know and kept me from looking like a complete dumbass. It wasn’t that different from building the house on the island except I used a nail gun and there was a lot more lumber lying around.
Most of the guys weren’t real talkative, and I didn’t have to carry on a conversation with anyone if I didn’t feel like it. Sometimes the only noise was the sound of our tools and the classic rock music coming from the boom box. I never wore a shirt and pretty soon I was almost as tan as I’d been on the island.
At night, Ben and I drank beer. I missed Anna and thought about her constantly. Without her next to me I slept like shit. Ben knew better than to say anything about her, but he seemed worried about me.
Hell, I was worried about me.
Chapter 63 – Anna
The temperature reached eighty-five degrees by two in the afternoon. The heat rolled off me like the sweat that ran down my face as my feet pounded the pavement.
It didn’t bother me. I could handle heat.
All through the end of June and July I ran – six, then eight, then ten miles every day, sometimes more.
I didn’t cry when I ran. I didn’t think, and I didn’t second-guess myself. Breathing deeply in and out, I put one foot in front of the other.
Tom Callahan called in early August. When the name came up on my caller ID my heart leapt, plummeting a second later after I answered and realized it wasn’t T.J.
“The seaplane charter settled this morning. T.J.’s already signed the papers. Once you add your signature, it’s done.”
“Okay,” I grabbed a pen and scribbled down the address he gave me.
“How are you, Anna?”
“I’m fine. How is T.J?”
“He’s keeping busy.”
I didn’t ask him what that meant. “Thanks for letting me know about the attorney. I’ll make sure to sign the papers.” There was silence on the other end for a second and then I said, “Please say hello to Jane and the girls for me.”
“I will. Take care, Anna.”
That night, I curled up on the couch with Bo to read a book. Two pages in, someone knocked on my door.
Hopeful excitement washed over me, my stomach filling with butterflies. I’d wondered all day, after talking to his dad, if T.J. might reach out to me. Bo went crazy, barking and running around in circles, as if he knew it was him. I ran to the door and flung it open but it wasn’t T.J. standing there.
It was John.
He wore a guarded expression. His blond hair was shorter than it used to be, and he had a few lines around his eyes, but otherwise he looked the same. He held a box in his hands. Bo nudged his legs, sniffing and circling.
“Sarah gave me your address. I found some more of your things and thought you might want them back.” He looked over my shoulder, trying to see if I was alone.
“Come in.” I shut the door after he crossed the threshold. “I’m sorry I never called. That was rude of me.”
“It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”
John set the box on the coffee table.
“Would you like something to drink?”
“Sure,” he said.
I went into the kitchen, opened a bottle of wine, and poured us each a glass. My choice of beverage reflected my sudden need for alcohol more than any desire to be hospitable.
“Thanks,” he said when I handed him a glass.
“You’re welcome. Sit down.”
He sneezed twice. “You got a dog. You always wanted one.”
“His name is Bo.”
He sat in the chair across from the couch. I set my glass on the coffee table in front of me and started pulling items out of the box. It was like seeing my clothes hanging in Sarah’s spare bedroom closet. Possessions I had almost forgotten but recognized immediately as soon as I saw them again.
I removed the rubber band from a stack of pictures. The one on top showed John and me standing in front of the ferris wheel at Navy Pier, our arms around each other, him kissing my cheek. I leaned across the coffee table and handed him the picture. “Look how young we were.”
“Twenty-two,” he said.
There were vacation pictures and group shots with our friends. A picture of my mom and John standing in front of the Christmas tree. One of him holding Chloe in the hospital a few hours after Sarah had given birth.
Looking at the pictures reminded me of the history I had with John, and that a lot of that history had been good. We’d started out with so much promise but then our relationship stagnated, crushed under the weight of two people wanting different things. I snapped the rubber band back on the pictures and set them on the table.
I pulled out an old pair of running shoes. “These have some miles on them.” The next item – a Hootie & the Blowfish CD – made me smile.
“You played that constantly,” John said.
“Don’t make fun of Hootie.”
There were a couple of paperbacks. A hairbrush and a ponytail holder. A half-empty bottle of Calvin Klein CK One perfume, my signature scent for most of the nineties.
My fingers grazed something near the bottom. A nightgown. I looked at the sheer black fabric and recalled a hazy memory of John taking it off me in the middle of the night, shortly before I left Chicago.
“I found it when I changed the sheets. I never did wash it,” he said softly.
Reaching in one last time, I came up with a blue velvet-covered box. I froze.
“Open it,” John said.
I lifted the lid. The diamond ring sparkled, nestled in satin. Speechless, I took a deep breath.
“After I dropped you off at the airport I drove to the jewelry store. I knew if I didn’t marry you I’d lose you, and I didn’t want to lose you, Anna. When Sarah called to tell me your plane went down, I held that ring in my hand and prayed they would find you. Then she called and told me you were presumed dead. The news devastated me. But you’re alive, Anna, and I still love you. I always have, and I always will.”
I snapped the box shut and hurled it at John’s head. With surprisingly fast reflexes, he deflected my throw and the box bounced off his crossed forearms and skittered across the hardwood floor.
“I loved you! I waited eight years for you and you strung me along until my only option was to break my own heart!”
John stood up from his chair. “Jesus, Anna. I thought a ring was what you wanted.”
“It’s never been about a ring.”
He crossed the room and paused at the door.
“So it’s because of the kid, then?”
I winced at the mention of T.J. Standing up, I marched over, scooped the ring off the floor, and handed it to him. “No. It’s because I would never marry a man who only asked me because he felt he had to.”
The next morning I went to the attorney’s office, signed the papers promising I wouldn’t sue the sea
plane charter, and collected a check. I deposited it at the bank on the way home. Sarah called my cell phone an hour later.
“Did you sign the papers?” she asked.
“Yes. It’s too much money, Sarah.”
“If you want my opinion, one point five million wasn’t nearly enough.”
Chapter 64 – T.J.
I dragged my ass up the stairs at 9:30 on Saturday night and as soon as I walked in the door, I figured out that the party had started without me. There were at least fifteen people drinking beer and taking shots in our kitchen and living room.
The guys on the crew and I were trying to finish framing a rush job in Schaumburg and we’d been putting in fourteen hour days, six days a week, for the last month, working until it got dark. I wanted everyone in our apartment to disappear.
Ben came out of his bedroom, a girl trailing behind.
“Hey man, grab a shower and get back out here.”
“Maybe. I’m tired.”
“Don’t be a pussy. We’re heading to the bar soon. Party until then and if you’re still tired, you can crash when we clear out.”
“Okay.”
I took a shower and pulled on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, leaving my feet bare. Weaving through the people partying in my kitchen, I said hi to the ones I knew and wondered where the hell the rest came from. I grabbed a Coke and a pizza box out of the refrigerator, then leaned against the counter eating the slices cold.
“Hi, T.J.,” a girl said, coming over to lean against the counter next to me.
“Hey.” She looked familiar, but I couldn’t think of her name.
“Alex,” she said.
“That’s right. Now I remember.” She was the girl that sat down next to me on the couch at Coop’s party when I first got back from the island. The one with long blond hair and too much makeup. I kept eating my pizza.
She leaned around me to the refrigerator and opened it. When she bent over to grab a beer, her boobs almost fell out of her tank top.