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Authors: T. Torrest

BOOK: A Way to Get By
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CHAPTER 24

Uptown Girl

 

 

EDDIE

Thursday, September 23

1982

 

M
axine was on the board of numerous charities, so I wasn’t even sure which of her potential donors we were meeting with tonight. In our earlier dating days, these little get-togethers were something I let Maxine handle on her own, but after I’d tagged along one night and managed to charm Vonda Wainwright into forking over a cool ten thou, my girlfriend insisted I accompany her from then on out.

   As we walked through the doors of the grand ballroom, I tried to stifle the memories that attempted to surface. Maxine and I had eaten at the club a bunch of times, but our meals were normally consumed out on the patio or in one of the smaller reception rooms. I’d been able to avoid the main dining room for two years, and I wasn’t much looking forward to breaking that streak.

   The Shermer Heights Country Club served as a reception hall on the weekends but was simply a restaurant during the rest of the week. I should know. My ex-wife had been a waitress here since we were teenagers. Despite her attempts to convince me otherwise, I knew she hated the job. Her promotion to Assistant Banquet Manager a few years back was a slight improvement yet she still left the position at the first available opportunity; I was all too aware that her rich new boyfriend had asked her to quit within minutes of their first date.

   Apparently, she didn’t waste any time coming back to this place as a member, though.

   Because she was presently holding court at a table in the center of the room.

   In that first second I saw her, I couldn’t control the fact that my heart lurched out of my chest or that my stomach seemed to drop from out of my body. She was standing at the head of a long table, smiling and laughing about something with
her fiancé
. The dozen or so people in her company were all smiling and laughing along with her. It looked as though Bren hadn’t lost her gift of enchantment, because try as I might, I couldn’t look away. She was wearing a knockout strapless blue dress and her hair was pulled into a tidy knot on the top of her head. I became mesmerized by the two strands that had been intentionally freed from her bun, dangling over her ears and kissing the skin of her exposed neck.

   I pulled out Maxine’s chair, lit her cigarette, and managed to keep up our conversation, all the while hiding behind my large leather-bound menu so I could keep my eyes on my ex-wife.

   That was, until my girlfriend called me out. “Eddie? Are you even listening to me?”

   I lowered my menu and finally met Maxine’s eyes. “Of course, darling.”

   “Oh, really? You just said it’s fine if I order you a glass of apple juice.”

   I snapped to attention, realizing that our server was at our table, patiently waiting on our drink order. “Excuse me. My apologies. The lady will have a glass of chardonnay and I’ll have an Amaretto on the rocks.”

   “Very good,” our waiter answered before taking off.

   I met Maxine’s eyes to find her shaking her head in exasperation. “I had to call your name three times before you acknowledged me.”

   “Sorry,” I offered. “I was too busy staring at the menu.”

   “Amongst other things.”

   My girlfriend was no dummy. She was obviously aware of what I’d really been staring at. In true high-class fashion, she didn’t allow her eyes to wander. But she knew exactly who was sitting a few tables away. It took every ounce of strength I possessed but from then on out, I managed to avoid looking over, too.

   Saul and Mitzi Bauer joined us, so I was able to focus my attentions on the task of parting Saul’s money from his wallet instead of parting Brummel’s head from his neck.

   We sipped our drinks and we ate our dinner and we had our coffee. In between, we discussed Maxine’s goals for The Norman Society, and chatted casually about my cooking and our tennis games. We charmed and cajoled our guests, insisted on paying for dinner, and smiled graciously when Saul ultimately cut a check for two thousand dollars.

   And just as we were getting up to leave, we ran right into my ex-wife.

   I’d been ushering Maxine from her chair and had just tucked her hand into my arm when a giggling Brenda broke her gaze from her escort and our eyes met.

   I was surprised it hadn’t happened before now, to be honest.

   The air between us crackled with an almost tangible intensity, the same old electricity that always managed to run through my body at the sight of her. I snickered to myself, thinking about how I’d spent the past months trying my damnedest to forget that undeniable attraction.

   I’d hoped it would go away.

   I’d been terrified it would go away.

   Brummel was the first to break the silence. “Edwards! Good God, man. How are you?” In true societal style, he managed a jovial tone.

   In true societal style, I was forced to match it. “I’m well, Brummel. Nice to see you.” I nodded my head at my ex-wife. “Brenda. Always a pleasure.”

   Brenda avoided speaking directly to me and instead held her hand out to my girlfriend. The overbright smile on her face must’ve been difficult to maintain. “Brenda Rinetti. And you are…?” she asked, as if she didn’t already know.

   My girlfriend answered pleasantly, “Maxine Calloway.”

   “Maxine. What a lovely name. It’s so wonderful to meet you.”

   Maxine, never one to cause a scene, took Brenda’s hand in her own before responding, “And you are even more beautiful than your pictures. So nice to meet you, too.”

   Despite the surreal vignette playing out in front of my eyes, I was supremely proud of my girlfriend and couldn’t help beaming at her. I knew it was an awkward moment, yet she managed to keep her composure and deal with the situation with her usual class. A perverse pride ran through me, having this chance to show off my new girl to my old one.

   “So, how are you, Brummel? Things are okay with you these days?” I asked purely out of civility. Because the truth was, I couldn’t care less.

   Even though he must’ve been well aware of my indifference, he wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to brag. “Things are better than okay. I’ve got a good job, a new wife. Heck, I’ve got a new life, thanks to this one.”

   He squeezed Brenda a bit closer against his side, and while she smiled through it, she reprimanded him. “I’m not your wife yet, Beau. Not until Saturday, anyway.”

  
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. The wedding is Saturday?
My stomach twisted into the most excruciating knot as my brain tried to register the information. I couldn’t believe that Tony or Ginny hadn’t filled me in on the plans.

   I’d been in denial about the divorce. I’d been in denial about the engagement. I’d been in denial about the actual wedding. I guess there was a part of me that always figured Brenda would never go through with the marriage but this situation just got entirely too real for my liking.
Christ.
They’d set a date. And it was only two days from now.

   She turned toward me, attempting to remain composed. But I was sure I was the only one out of the four of us that caught the strained smile on her face as she explained, “We were here tonight for our rehearsal dinner.”

   I couldn’t confirm it, but I would swear there was a spark in Brenda’s eyes immediately following that bit of revelation. A burst of nostalgia shot straight down my spine when I thought about
our
rehearsal dinner, seven years and a lifetime ago. Was she thinking about how we snuck off to make love in the coat room? Did she remember how we whispered our vows right then and there while I was deep inside of her, unable to wait the extra day to say them for real?

   She looked happy with him, though. There was no denying that. I started to wonder if maybe she had actually fallen in love with the guy. The thought was quite a blow to my heart and my ego. How could she stomach being anywhere near him?

   Brummel placed Brenda’s cape around her shoulders and started to lead her away as she offered, “Well, it was lovely to see you, Eddie. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

   “You, too, Bren…da. And best of luck on Saturday.” I held out my hand to her fiancé. “Congratulations, Brummel. You’ve landed yourself one hell of a girl.”

 

 

 

* * * 

 

 

   I waited for Maxine to fall asleep before sneaking down the stairs. I let myself out the kitchen door as quietly as possible and hopped behind the wheel of my new Porsche 911. Maxine bought it for me under the condition that I sell the Mustang. I wasn’t too happy about having to give up my baby but I got over it pretty quick.

   Cars aren’t people.

   The stereo was blaring out a Creedence tune, providing a perfect soundtrack for my race across two entire towns. Finally, I swerved down 52
nd
Street and brought the car to a jarring stop in front of my old building, got out, slammed the door, and marched to a spot of grass two floors below our lone picture window. I could see the blue glow emitting from the living room—Bren was either still up or sleeping with the television on.

   My body was on auto-pilot. I didn’t think; I was beyond rational thought. Before I knew what was happening, my hands were cupped around my mouth as I screeched,
“Brendaaaa!”
like a complete lunatic. I took a breath and yelled again. “Brenda! Come out here and talk to me!”

   The living room light changed to a bright yellow before Brenda pulled back the curtain and spotted me under the window. I couldn’t see her face; she was just a shadowy outline, but I saw her hand go to her hair before the curtains closed.

   Within seconds, she was barging out of the front door—her hair damp, her body wrapped in a bathrobe—to chastise me. “Who are you, Stanley Kowalski? What the hell, Eddie?” Her eyes frantically searched up and down the street as she grabbed my arm and led me around to the courtyard at the side of our building. The “yard” was a tiny patch of grass and gravel with a coal-fired grill and a park bench—both of which no one ever used. The deserted space would afford us some privacy, at least.

   “What are you doing here, Eddie?”

   The anguish in her voice knocked the wind out of me, and I found myself dropping to my knees at her feet. I wrapped my arms around her thighs, and my mouth buried against her hip as I wailed without pride. “Oh God, Bren. Please don’t do this! Please don’t marry him. I know I said I’d be okay with it, but I can’t let you go through with this. I love you!”

   Brenda’s eyes went wide at my admission, and she froze in shock for a second before common sense took over. She attempted to disentangle herself from my clutches as her whispered voice rasped, “Eddie, please get up! And keep your voice down! Do you want the whole neighborhood to hear?”

   My head and shoulders slumped as my hands fell to my sides. My next words were directed toward the grass at my knees. “I love you, Bren. I
love
you.” I made myself raise my head to meet her eyes. “I can’t let you do this.”

   “Oh God. Please don’t do this to me. Not now. Not after I—”

   “Please don’t marry him.”

   “I
have
to.”

   I shook my head at the ground and pleaded my case. “No. You don’t. I’m on my knees here, Bren. I’m begging you. Please don’t marry that guy. We can find a way to make it work. I’ll do whatever it takes. I swear.” I didn’t even try to stop the tears running down my cheeks. I was as surprised as she was that I was here, trying to get her back. I thought I was past this. I thought I was over the pain. But seeing her tonight… God. There was no way to deny it any longer. I couldn’t pretend anymore. “It feels like you’re beating me down. That’s what it feels like. In my heart. Like you’re beating the shit out of me from the inside.”

   Brenda swiped a hand over her hair, staring off at something over my right shoulder. She shook her head slightly, her lips pressing into a firm line. She was visibly being torn in two, of that I was sure. The tears glistening in her fathomless brown eyes threatened to spill over as she clasped her robe in a fist at her throat, the fingertips of her free hand shaking over her lips. “What do you expect me to do, Eddie? Cancel all our plans?
Two days before the wedding?

   “It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except that I love you.”

   She dropped to her knees in front of me, abandoning her attempt to hold her robe closed as her hands reached up to cup my jaw, raising my eyes to hers. “I love you, too, Eddie. You know I do. But this decision has already been made—a long time ago, in fact. You’re going to have to find a way to get through this. You need to find a way to be happy. I’ve spent the past two years building this new life for myself. It wasn’t easy, but I did it. And now here you are,
hours
before my wedding to someone else to tell me you love me? Why are you doing this? Why are you making this so hard for me? You can’t expect me to just throw it all away. Not after everything we’ve gone through to get here.”

   “I’m begging you.”

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