Chapter 3

[asteralison]

Chapter 3

 

The dressing room was quiet, and she took a deep breath. She had three bathing suits to try on. She’d picked them out quickly, reasonably sure of her taste and size. Jonathan was sitting outside the dressing rooms, and she thought he might have fallen asleep.

The whole day was starting to feel surreal. Not enough sleep, she knew, but also this strange feeling of connecting with someone so very completely. And he was so very young.  She kept on vacillating between “I’m old enough to be his mother, why does he want to hang with me?” and “Oh god, this is good.”

Martin had used a surrogate; he’d always been open about that. Was Jonathan looking for a mother –

“How does that one look, luv?” asked the saleslady.

Melissa jumped and stared at herself. She’d put on the first suit, plain black, with just one strap and hadn’t really noticed.

“OK, I guess,” she answered.

“Well, come on out here and look in the better mirror!”

She stepped outside the dressing room. The suit looked ok. She didn’t care, it just had to fit.

“Shall I get your man? He might want to have a look-see?”

Her eyes widened in horror. “Oh no. I mean, he’s not. He’s just a friend. And I think he’s fallen asleep anyhow.”

“Kept him up late, did you?” said the lady with a broad wink. “No, it’s all right! That one’s cute. I like the one shoulder style, it looks good on you. Let’s see the other one.”

She changed quickly, feeling a bit queasy. Did they think she was robbing the cradle? He was so much younger than she was. 14 years… or maybe 13?  She could be his mother. Not likely, but the age gap was almost just sufficient. If you squinted.

The second suit was a white bikini. She thought it made her pale skin look even paler.

“How’s that bikini?”

She pulled the curtain back. “Not my color, I don’t think,” she said.

“I see what you mean. Some pale girls look great with the white-on-white, but you could use a bit more color.”

The third suit was another one piece, in her favorite blue. It looked awful. She started taking it off. She’d probably go with the black.

The saleslady reached in through the curtain and handed her another bikini. It was shell pink, and the top had only one shoulder strap, which she’d liked in the one piece. What’s more it was decently sized, and not something she’d feel uncomfortable wearing to play in Cate’s pool with other people around.

She tried it on quickly and stepped to check herself in the mirror. She liked the color, and it felt good.

“Sure I can’t get the lad?”

“I think I can decide by myself,” she said with a smile. “And this one is perfect, great pick.”

She paid. The clerk took the bag and told her that it would be waiting for her at her hotel that evening, along with the rest of the things they’d purchased.

She checked her watch. 30 minutes. She smiled. Not bad for a bathing suit purchase. No matter what those were hard, and she didn’t have any major body image issues. Aside from being short, she reminded herself.

It was almost 7pm. They needed to make their way to the London Eye. She took a deep breath. She’d be fine. The pods, or whatever they were called were completely enclosed. They were planned for a few dozen people, though they’d be fewer because of the pandemic, so there was bound to be a spot where she didn’t have to see down. She swallowed hard.

Jonathan was asleep, sitting up, probably a trick he’d learned in medical school. She put a hand on his shoulder. His eyes popped open, instantly awake and aware.

“Oh. I must have fallen asleep.”

“You did. I’m done, so we can go whenever.”

“Did you find something?”

“I did. Thanks for being patient.”

He looked at his watch. “Not like that took a long time.”

 

She stared at the wheel. It didn’t even stop to let on passengers, you just had to, like, hop on. It did not even stop. She gulped. The other people in their group were a family of seven, parents, kids, grandparents. They walked on first, easily, even the grandparents.

Mere seconds, and she was going to have to get in that thing that was going to go up. Up was the problem. She shivered.

“Cold?”

“No,” she said.

To her surprise, he held out his hand, and she took it. It was warm, despite the chill of the autumn evening. They stepped on. The doors shut. She quelled a bubble of panic.

Since they were still holding hands, they walked over to the window. She let go, so she could grab on to the railing. He was next to her, staring out as slowly, so very slowly, they started to ascend.

At first, she thought she’d be alright. She could keep her eyes shut, and not look out the vast expanse of glass that showed the empty underneath her.

He was standing next to her and pointing out landmarks as they became visible. The kids were doing much the same on the other side of the pod, loud and exuberant.

She opened an eye. Oh god. She shut it.

“Jonathan,” she said, her voice tight, but, she thought, controlled, not panicky at all. At all.

“Mmm?”

“I suppose this is a bad time to tell you I’m terrified of heights.”

Her eyes were squeezed shut and she had started to shake. She wanted to cry. She had a death grip on the balustrade. At least that. At least. That. It was getting hard to breathe behind the mask, she wanted to take it off. Dizzy. Not enough air. Breathe faster.

“Melissa,” he said. His voice was very soft and very calm. “I’m going to move to stand behind you, ok?”

Her response was a bit of a squeak.

“Is it ok if I put my arms around you? I’m going to hold you very tight.”

Still with that same soothing voice. She nodded. His arms came around her, strong, and he pulled her close, against his body. She didn’t relax.

“It’s all good. I won’t let go of you. I won’t let you fall. You’re safe. I’ve got you.” It was a litany of reassuring words, and they were somehow comforting. She could feel her shaking abate just a tiny bit.

“I’ve got my hand on your stomach. I want to feel you breathe, ok? Deep slow breaths. I want to feel you breathe. You can do that. No, don’t worry, I’m not letting go, I’ve got you…”

Breathing slowly helped.

She let go of the railing and turned around, putting her arms around him, hiding her face in his chest, hating herself for it, but needing the reassurance, the solidity of him. He kept on holding her. She felt tears in her eyes, and she knew she was crying.

“It’s ok. I’m sorry, I didn’t know. It’s ok. I’ve got you, ok, I won’t let you go, I’m here…” One of his hands was on the back of her head, and she felt his fingers in her hair. He rearranged his grip to hold her even tighter, and suddenly, she felt safe. Nothing had changed. She was still somewhere up in the sky above London, but she felt safe. She wasn’t going to shatter into a thousand pieces or collapse in a puddle of screams. He had her. He’d keep her together until she could keep herself together. She knew that. She felt safe.

Very slowly, she pulled away, letting go of him so she could look at him. His smile was gentle, and his hand moved from the back of her head to her cheek, and he wiped away a tear with his thumb. She felt safe. She turned around again, but closed her eyes, and pressed herself to him. She felt safe. His arms were still around her, so she knew without a doubt that she was safe. Slowly, she opened one eye. So high. So very high. She took a deep breath and opened the other. She was safe. Jonathan had her.

She knew he was leaning over, so he could speak quietly. “Look, the Houses of Parliament and Big Ben. See the boat down on the Thames? I love how pretty the lights are, someday we should come back and do this during the day—”

She snorted at that. His grip tightened. She felt her shaking abate. But it had been a laugh. She was ok.

He didn’t let go until they had to walk out of the pod, and even then, he held her hand.

Solid ground under her feet. She felt herself wobble a bit, her knees a bit weak, still. Deep breath. They walked a bit away, and she finally let go of his hand, missing the connection immediately.

“Thank you,” she said, quickly. “I’m so sorry-“

“No. I’m sorry. I should have seen you weren’t enthusiastic about the idea and asked why.”

“I thought I could do it.”

He smiled. “You did do it.”

“Not without some significant help.”

“That was, to use the hackneyed old phrase, what friends are for.”

She nodded. “Again, I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and held out his hand again. “Come on. Let’s get dinner and I want to know how you managed to hike the Enchantments solo while afraid of heights.”

 

The hotel staff had piled their shopping bags on her counter, and she moved them to the bed. They started sorting. Melissa pulled her suitcase out and opened it onto the bed. In the mesh to one side, instead of whatever the makers intended, she’d packed yarn.

“See anything you like?” she asked. “This is sock yarn. We’ll deal with sweater yarn when you get back. If I can start tomorrow, I might be able to finish by the time we get to Reykjavik.”

She bit the inside of her mouth. Before we each go our separate ways, she thought, but did not say.

“I have a latex allergy,” he said.

“Oh. Was that always the case?”

“No, it developed during medical school. It isn’t too hard to manage but I try to be careful because it can get worse.”

“Of course. These are all 100% wool that’s been treated so it’s washable, but there should be no other fibers. Pick away!”

While he was looking at the yarn, she packed the other side of the suitcase. They’d had a nice dinner, and then a drive around London. It was late and they’d need to be up early the next day.

As she tossed her new bathing suit into the case, Jonathan commented. “Is that the new bathing suit? It’s a pretty color.”

“Yes, it is. I hadn’t seen it when I was shopping, the saleslady found it for me. Are you finding colors you like? And any thoughts on a pattern? I can do a variegated wool,” she pointed to one of shifting shades from brown to gold, “or one color easily. I can also do stripes, or heels and toes in one color, body of the sock in the other. Anything with a more serious pattern, I won’t be able to finish before tomorrow.”

“I often wear Crocs at work, and the kids will get a kick out of anything obnoxious,” he said.

“Not much like that here, sorry, but at home, I’ve got some pretty frightening stuff. Finn, that’s Mags’ son, wanted a lime green and purple pair for Christmas last year.”

She looked at the yarn. She grabbed the peach, orange, and pink variegated yarn she’d used to make the socks she’d finished the night before, and a ball of a bright electric blue. “These?”

“I like that!” he said. “That’s bright, and just the right amount of obnoxious that I won’t feel embarrassed if a real adult looks too closely.”

“Jonathan. You’re a pediatrician, doing a fellowship in pediatric oncology. And you don’t count yourself among the real adults of the world?”

“Nope. Not until I get sleep regularly. Real adults sleep regular hours and don’t fall asleep standing up waiting for their Lyft ride.”

She couldn’t help laughing. “I see. Well, yes, then. I am happily part of the real adults group then. I do like those colors. Stripes or heels and toes?”

He thought about it for a few seconds. “Heels and toes.”

“K. I’ll get them started. What size shoe?”

“11.”

“One last thing. Don’t take this wrong, ok, but can I see your feet and ankles?”

“OK?”

She laughed. “Just pull up the cuffs of your jeans a bit and take off shoes and socks. I want to see the shape of your ankles and lower calves. It’ll help with fit.”

“Do you need to measure?”

“No, not really. I could probably guess and be pretty close, but seeing as you’re here...”

“Not a foot fetish then?”

He took off his shoes and socks, and pulled up his jeans. “Oh, I should not have done that. I do not want to put these back on. Ah well. Nor do I want to be wandering around a London hotel in my bare feet. Back on they go.”

“Yeah,” she said. The hair on his legs was golden, a bit darker than the hair on his head. She shook her head to dispel that whole train of thought.

They were both quiet for a few moments, then he looked down at his hands, and bent over to pick up his shopping bags. His voice was a bit muffled when he spoke. “I don’t want to say goodnight,” he said, “It’s been such a wonderful day.”

“It has. Thank you so much for everything. Especially the not letting me panic on a Ferris wheel part.”

“I’ve held more than my fair share of upset kids,” he said. “And to be honest, more than a few upset adults. It helps, being held.”

“It does. It did.”

“7:30 tomorrow?” he said. “Downstairs?”

“Sure. See you then.”

He nodded. “Yup. G’night.”

She watched him walk down the hallway. Before opening the door to the stairwell, he turned around and waved at her. She waved back, and he was gone.

 

Melissa blinked slowly, and slowly closed her door. She got ready for bed. She took up her sock needles and the yarn and, counting quickly, cast on the socks. She’d knit them both at the same time. She took a few minutes to arrange the yarn in her “current project” bag. She sat in bed. It was just past midnight, so it would be just past 5pm at home. She reached over to her computer bag and found her Bluetooth headphones with the mic and called Mags.

“Hey, sweetie, what’s up?”

“Hey. Can you loop Cate in?”

“One sec.”

While she waited, she got herself a glass of water. She needed to tell Mags and Cate everything. They’d help her understand and tell her what to do. She knew they—

“Liss my love! How is London treating you?”

“Hi Cate.”

“What’s up? You’re leaving tomorrow, right?”

Melissa took a deep breath and started. “I met someone,” she said.

The squeals were immediate. They both knew how long it had been since she’d last dated.

“Oh wow. Is he there? Taking a shower after an evening of wild sex?” asked Mags.

“No, it’s not like that. We went to the British Museum. And on the London Eye.”

“Wait, he got you on a FERRIS WHEEL?” asked Cate.

“No, I went on by myself. What he did was get me off the Ferris wheel alive and not as a puddle of panic drenched sweat.”

“This guy sounds like a gem,” opined Mags.

“Oh he is,” she said. “I didn’t realize what was happening until it happened.”

“That’s all good,” said Cate. “Why are you calling, then? You don’t sound peachy excited like you should be.”

“There are… issues.”

“Long distance relationships—”

“No, he’s local.”

“To us?”

“Yeah.”

“At least that. How did you meet him?”

“I kinda didn’t. I already knew him.”

“Oh. Let me guess. This is part of the issue.”

“Yes.”

“Is he married?” asked Mags.

“No, not that. Oh god this is hard. I’m ashamed to even talk about this.”

“Do we know him?”

“I think so.”

“Oh,” said Mags.

Cate, as usual, took charge of the questioning. “Tell us everything, ok? Start with the start. Don’t interject the problem until the end, once we have a better picture. Call him Fred for now so we can focus on the events, not on how we know him or when we last saw him.”

“We’re listening,” said Mags. “And remember, we’re here for you, babe, no matter.”

She put down her knitting, took a deep breath. “Last night as I got back to the hotel after dinner, Fred called out to me….”

She almost tripped up a few times, calling him Jonathan rather than Fred, but in the end, the details were given.

She heard Cate take a deep breath. “And how do you feel?”

She started to cry, surprising herself. “Ms, it’s never been like this. I feel the half of a whole, like I completely fit in with him. It was never this way, not even with Anthony.” Anthony. The man she’d been engaged to, had lived with for four years. The man she’d once thought she’d spend the rest of her life with.

“Did you start feeling that way before or after he helped you out on the London Eye?” Cate asked.

She sniffled. “Before. It was really when he told me that he’d wanted to see me again. And I knew more when we were at the British Museum.”

“Oh?” That was Mags.

“He didn’t comment endlessly on things. We just walked together, almost silent, looking at all these artefacts of human civilization, and he didn’t feel the need to talk just to hear himself talk, and he didn’t expect me to. It felt like companionship, and I loved it.”

She sniffled again. “The worse is that tomorrow, we go to the airport, and go our separate ways and I’m already sad about it. He’s traveling around Iceland for, like, 10 days.”

“Will you see him when he gets back?” Cate.

“Probably, yes.”

“What does he do, in real life?” asked Mags.

She hesitated. She had to tell them eventually.

“Pediatric oncology.”

“One of mine?” asked Cate. She was a genetic counselor at the hospital where Jonathan worked. Melissa knew she was probably already checking out the directory as they spoke.

“Well, yes. But.”

“But?” Cate again.

“Fellow.”

 “So a bit younger. What, early 30s? Is that the problem?” Mags.

“Well…”

“Oh,” said Cate. “Jonathan Teague?”

She didn’t sound shocked, at least.

Melissa nodded then said “Yes. Jonathan. Martin’s son. Whom I’ve known since he was 12 or 13.”

She started to cry again.

“Mags, I’m emailing you a photo. Hot as fucking hell. Lissy, why are you crying?”

“I always thoughts it was those creeps who were the pedophile wanna-bes,” she said, “but what if it was because they sensed I was a weirdo too?”

“Melissa! Don’t be ridiculous. He’s at least in his mid-twenties, right?” Mags’ voice was gentle but firm.

“And I’m 40! And I knew him when he was a kid.”

“You are 38, not 40, first of all, and come on, Liss, he’s not a child NOW,” said Cate.

“Whoa. He is hot! Lissy, just because you knew him when he was underage doesn’t mean that finding him hot now means you’re weird. It means you have good taste.”

“But—”

“Did you find him sexy when he was 16?” Mags.

“God, no!”

“Well, what’s the problem then?” Mags.

“I’m too old.”

“You’re not too old,” said Cate. “And is the problem right now that you’re sad because you are going to miss him when he stays in Iceland and you go home or is it that you fear that there is no future for this, and you’re pre-emptively upset.”

“Ouch,” said Mags. “Cate, she’s clearly hurting!”

“I know. But I want to figure out why.”

Melissa spoke slowly. “I don’t know, Cate. I’m upset because I’m too old, and there were those creeps, and maybe it was me and not them. I’m upset because, yes, this interlude in London is coming to an end, we’re flying out together and then that’s it. I’m upset because we have some vaguely tentative plans for when he gets back, and I’m afraid he won’t call me, and I’m afraid he will. I’m afraid because I am totally falling for this guy, not just ‘oh I have the hots for him’ but ‘I want to spend time with him and just BE with him’ and he’s young and gorgeous and one of my best friend’s CHILD. And I have no idea how he feels or even if he feels anything. He seems to enjoy hanging with me, but I’m afraid I’ve gone past that, and I don’t know that I’m being fair to him.”

Mags fixed on the last thing she’d said. “Fair? How so?”

“Mags, I’m falling for him. He doesn’t know that. He’s probably just being nice? And how could it be anything else, I’m just an older woman who’s a friend of his father’s.”

Cate’s voice was amused. “Liss, my stepdad’s best friend came to town for a science fiction con a few years back. I had him over for dinner. And drove him back to his hotel, told him how nice it was to see him again, and to enjoy the con. He sent Gabs a con t-shirt to say thanks, and that was that.”

“Right,” said Mags. “You’ve been saying he’s been taking every opportunity to spend more time with you. I don’t know what it is, but it isn’t nothing, ok?”

“OK,” she said. “I guess.”

“Go to the airport tomorrow. Before time to say goodbye, make sure you have a solid plan to get together when he gets back. You’ll feel better. Enjoy your quick stay in Reykjavik, and we’ll be at the airport waiting for you,” said Cate.

“I was going to get ---”

“I know, but we’ll be there, and we’ll take you home and ply you with alcohol. Did you get any selfies with him?”

“Actually, yes.”

“Good. We’ll want to see them. Text or email them as soon as you’re off the call. We’re living vicariously here.”

“Melissa,” said Mags. “Your neighbor girl is watching Lilly and Pip, right?”

“Brigitte, yes. Why?”

“Just checking. Listen. If… something comes up, do not worry about cats, house, or bees. We’ll take care of anything or everything.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m just saying that don’t let the thought of omg, Brigitte has already been feeding the cats for a week or some such to stop you if something comes up.”

“You think he’s going to ask her to stay with him in Iceland, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“Mags, that ridiculous,” said Melissa, feeling her stomach do a funny little flip flop.

“No, I agree with Mags. I think he will. Can you take off work?”

“Yes, I could, I have writing to do and was planning on being at home, and Kelly, that’s my post-doc, is still on maternity leave, so no responsibilities there. But I don’t think—”

“If he does, we’re going to cocktails and luxe nuts at that new bar in Bellevue, and you’re paying.”

They said goodnight, and Melissa blew her nose. She texted a few of the photos they’d taken that day. She picked up her knitting, then decided that it would be better to get some sleep. It took her a while to drift off, and her sleep was restless.

 

Cate called Mags back later that evening, Pacific time. “So, what do you think?”

“She’s totally falling in love.”

“Good or bad?”

Mags sighed, “Hard to say. If he’s good, damn, she deserves a shot at something. After Anthony and Rafe, and whiny Steven, a decent man would be a change.”

“Don’t forget the weirdo twins.”

“Ugh.”

“Do you know I saw Joel the other day? Had to gall to come up to Trevor and me at Home Depot, to talk about how he missed hanging out with us, and that he was still sad that it didn’t work out with Melissa. In the meanwhile, she still secretly thinks she was the problem not him, AND he’s freaking married.”

“God, what a fuckup. I hope he doesn’t have kids.”

“New wife does, boys, thank goodness.”

“Yeah. I mean, I don’t think he’s an actual pedophile, but certainly some fucked up sex fantasies.”

“To say the least. I still think he slipped her something. Anyhow, Trev, being an idiot, suggested we get together at some point, his steps are the same age at Gabs and the twins. Yeah, nope, nope, nope, not gonna happen.”

“Cate, taking any bets on what Jonathan does?”

Cate giggled. “Oh, he’s totally gonna ask her to stay with him. I’m going to check out the menu at The Nut and pick out my drink and exotic nut combo.”

“I think so too. God those selfies were so cute. I LOL’ed at the one in front of the London Eye sign. Lissy can now say she did it!”

“Oh. And before I forget… I didn’t want to ask Lissy, because she’d freak even worse, but do you remember how much he inherited? I know I heard rumors back when, because he was so young, and his dad was bypassed.”

“I’d have to ask my parents, it was big in the Albuquerque papers, but I seem to remember it was around 50 million?”

“Definitely let’s not remind Lissy of that.”

“Yup. I’ve got an early morning, I gotta go. Talk to you tomorrow?”

“Night.”

(c) 2022 Leila Belhadjali