Following My Toes (12 page)

“Hey, how did your date go?”

“Great. Well, pretty great.” I told her about what happened, right up to the end, when things had seemed weird.

“Maybe he didn’t want to rush things,” she said. “I still think he’ll call. A guy doesn’t kiss you twice on the first date unless he’s interested.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“I am, don’t worry. And if he doesn’t call, all you have to do is find something else wrong with your car, then you’ll have an excuse to see him again.”

“Great Carolyn. Wouldn’t that would make me seem a little desperate?”

“So what? You are desperate, aren’t you?”

“Actually, no. You remember that guy Max, who’s a friend of your friend David? He called and asked me out. We’re going out next Thursday.”

There was silence on the other end of the line. After a moment she spoke. “I didn’t know you were interested in Max.”

Carolyn had an edge to her voice, like she was annoyed or some-thing. I didn’t understand why. “I don’t know that I am,” I explained, “but he seemed nice enough. He asked me out, and I figured, why not?”

There was another tense pause. “Yeah, but don’t you think that’s leading him on? If you’re not honestly interested, you shouldn’t go out with him.”

“Carolyn, what are you saying? You’ve never gone out with some-one just for fun? Anyway, maybe after spending more time with him, I will be interested. Who knows?”

“I thought you were interested in Ethan.”

“I am. But come on, what are the chances of that going anywhere? I mean, he’s good looking and fun, but I doubt he’s trustworthy.”

“You never know,” she said. “Maybe you’re underestimating him.”

“I hope you’re right. But I still don’t see what the big deal is about me going out with Max.”

“It’s not a big deal!” she snapped. “Forget it. Do what you want. You always do anyway.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Never mind. Forget I said anything. Look, I have to go. I need to be at work in twenty minutes, and I’m not even ready.”

“Okay, well, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yeah, talk to you later.”

We hung up, but I couldn’t stop thinking about our conversation. I couldn’t stand to have her mad at me, and had no idea what had even set her off. And what did she mean, I always do what I want? Was she one more in a long line of people who believed I was self-involved?

I was sitting, as if in a trance, mulling over these questions, when Missy walked in.

“Hey,” I said. “How are you? Feeling any better?”

“I’m doing okay.” She mumbled in a martyred tone.

“I got your note, and I cleaned the bathroom.” I was getting re-ally tired of conflict, and was now desperate to please someone, even if that someone was Missy.

Missy walked into the bathroom to perform an inspection, and came out after a couple of moments with a scowl on her face. “Thanks for doing that, Faith, but you didn’t get around the toilet, and there are still streaks all over the mirror. Did you even try to clean them?”

“Um, I was going to, but the phone rang right as I was finishing up. Sorry, I forgot I hadn’t done the mirror yet.”

“You need to finish what you start, Faith.”

If Carolyn hadn’t just snapped me at I might have defended myself, but as it was, I was too vulnerable for another argument. Then I remembered the phone messages. I almost asked Missy about them, but decided against it. The mysterious one had to be for her; I probably was self-involved, thinking it was for me. I decided then and there to let the whole issue go.

* * *

Several days went by, and nobody called me. I left a couple of messages for Carolyn, but she did not call back. Since moving down to
Minneapolis
her friendship had become even more important to me than before, so any amount of conflict with her was scary. The other person who hadn’t called was Ethan. This was as sadly predictable as clicking on one of those “You’re a Winner” pop-ups on the web, only to find it’s a sham, and you’re just like everyone else. Our date was just too good to be true, and it had only been a matter of time before he fi gured out I’m not exciting enough for him. Besides, we had no future. Sure, he was cute, but we had very little in common. No, it was good that he hadn’t called. That’s what I told myself, anyway.

In reality, my feelings about him were more complicated. I liked him, but I thought it was too soon for me to become involved with someone new. It would be better to be rejected now, before I had indubitably fallen for him, instead of months down the line, when he’d really be capable of breaking my heart. The way I saw it, if my heart was broken again, it could be damaged beyond repair.

However, when Thursday evening approached I worked to put myself in the right mindset for my date with Max. I was lucky he had called. He seemed liked the safe-bet sort of guy I had dated pre-Peter. That’s what I needed. Forget the sensitive artist type, or the sexy mechanic. A normal guy I could take or leave fit my mood to the tee.

Max took me to Planet Hollywood in the Mall of America. As we sat across from each other, drinking elaborate cocktails, surrounded by pictures of Arnold Schwartzanaeger and Demi Moore, I found myself with nothing to say. He seemed to be having the same problem. But after studying his menu for several minutes, he closed it and attempted to engage me in conversation.

“So, what do you think of the mall? I thought since you were new here, you might want to see it.”

“Oh, it’s great. It’s huge. I can’t believe how big it is.” I sounded like I was reading dialogue from a porn movie, but it was the best I could do. And it was big, that’s for sure. There were four fl oors, each about a mile long in circumference. The bottom level had an amusement park with a huge roller coaster, visible from most points in the mall. But there was a reason why I hadn’t gone to the Mall Of America yet, and that was because I’d had no desire to go.

“Do you come here a lot?” I asked.

“Sometimes. It’s nice if you want to get out of the city.”

“And escape to suburbia?” I said, as a joke.

“Sure.” Max’s face was serious, and he put down the glossy drink menu he had still been fiddling with. He leaned forward and grabbed my hand. “I would love to get a place outside of the city at some point. I mean, the suburbs are so much cleaner, and safer. Plus, the schools in
Minneapolis
are lousy. If you’re going to have kids you want to be living in the suburbs.”

Holding hands with Max over drinks felt nothing like it had with Ethan. I gently pried my hand away from his, and started fishing for something in my purse, so it would seem like the reason I pulled away. I found some chapstick and put it on. After I was done I looked up, and he was still gazing at me, obviously waiting for me to respond.

“Um, I suppose. I mean, I’ve done some research on the schools here while looking for a job, and I know what you mean. But I still like the city. I just wish it wasn’t so expensive. I would love to be able to live on my own.”

“Yeah, me too.” He had a roommate! Thank God – a common topic to discuss.

“Oh, does your roommate drive you crazy as well? Mine sure does. She leaves me all these notes every time she’s annoyed about something, she runs a phone sex business from our apartment, and lately she’s been freaking out because she got run over by a dog.”

“What do you mean, she got run over by a dog?”

I started to answer, but he cut in. “Wait, never mind. I think I’d rather hear about the phone sex business.” I laughed and explained the whole situation.

“Well,” he said after I was finished, “my situation isn’t quite that extreme. But David has women over all the time. Our walls are thin. It gets annoying.”

“David from the bar? He’s your roommate?”

“Yeah. I thought you knew that.”

“No, I don’t think you ever mentioned it.”

“Oh, well, yeah. He and I have shared a place for a while now. And it’s always been the same thing: One woman after another. They never last for long. The fact that your friend Carolyn has lasted for over a week is very impressive.”

My stomach dived. All the background noise of the mall and the restaurant closed in on me, and I feared being sick right at the table. The expression on my face must have betrayed how I felt, because Max quickly stopped laughing. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He reached for my hand again, and I was in too much shock to pull away.

“Are you sure it’s Carolyn that’s been coming over, and not some-body else?” I asked, hoping for the impossible.

“Well, yeah, I’m sure it’s her. Why? What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” I yelled, and more than a couple of heads turned our way. “She has a serious boyfriend who loves her! He wants to marry her, and she’s throwing it all away! And on a creepy guy like your roommate! It’s so completely screwed up, I can’t even begin to tell you how wrong it is.”

“Well, it’s not like she’s going to leave her boyfriend for David. He’s never even heard of the word commitment.” Max said this with a fake little laugh.

“You know, if you’re going to make light of this...” I was so upset I was having trouble forming words. “Forget it, I’m out of here.”

I stormed out of the restaurant and into the mall. I instantly felt lost. I would have to catch a bus or get a taxi home, but I had no idea where to do that. I was looking around for a mall directory when Max approached me.

“Hey, are you alright?”

“Gee, do I look like I’m alright?”

He scratched his forehead as if he was solving a complicated puzzle. “No. And I understand that you’re upset. But I don’t understand why you’re upset with me.”

He actually looked kind of sweet standing there with such a concerned and confused expression on his face. “I’m not upset with you,” I conceded.

“Then let me take you home.” He reached out his hand, and this time I took it willingly. We walked to his car, and drove back to my place in silence. When we got there, he came in without being asked. Then, for reasons I’ll never be able to explain, I cried on his shoulder for a long time.

I’m not particularly religious, and until several months ago, I don’t know that I honestly believed in things such as sin or betrayal. I always naively assumed that true betrayal lies within; when you do something wrong, you are merely betraying yourself by going against your own conscience or desire. But now I think wronging others is a much bigger sin than wronging yourself—but it’s impossible to commit one of these sins without committing the other.

Chapter 9

Suppose you’re driving back from a camping trip, the first trip you’ve ever taken together. You stop at a rest area, and after coming out of the bathroom you can’t find him. But soon you discover a trail leading to a scenic overlook a few feet away from the park building. You assume correctly he walked down, because there he is, getting a fantastic view of
Lake Superior
’s rocky cliffs, the wind causing his hair to stick out in all directions.

It is cold, and your thin jacket doesn’t protect you from the harsh elements. “Hey,” you shout into the wind, “are you ready? It’s freezing out here.”

He doesn’t turn to look at you, but keeps his gaze focused down the shore. “Come here for a second.” He motions forward with his arm.

“Peter...”

“Come on. Just for a second.”

You walk the narrow path towards him. As soon as you are within his reach, he grabs you in a hug, then unaffected by onlookers, gives you a leisurely kiss. After several moments he pulls away, and with gentle hands turns you around to face the lake.

He whispers in your ear. “Isn’t it beautiful?” Your emotions are so powerful they take on a life of their own. A moment before you felt disgusting after camping for several days, only thoughts of a hot shower occupied your mind. But now every ounce of you is consumed with him.

He remains behind you, his arms wrapped around your stomach. You feel as safe and warm as when your mom used to give you hot chocolate after you played outside on snow days. He whispers in your ear, sending a balmy shiver down your spine. “Don’t say anything in response, okay? I don’t want you to say anything. But I want you to know ... I love you.”

You don’t say a word; instead you answer him with a passionate kiss. And after the moment is over, you get back in the car and drive home to reality. But you carry the experience with you, ecstatic with the proof that love can be perfect, even if only for a glimmer of time.

* * *

When Peter broke up with me that memory shattered as if he had purposefully taken my favorite childhood mug—the one “Santa” gave me with my name painted on it, and threw it against a cold stone floor. But I hadn’t given up my romantic notions of love. Love may not exist for me, but it did for other people. After all, look at Charles and Carolyn.

Finding out Carolyn was cheating on Charles was almost as devastating as being dumped by Peter for Lacey. Like I said, I couldn’t explain that to anyone, including Max. He was really nice that evening, and although I apologized for crying so much on our first date, I was sure the whole episode would scare him off.