One Step Away (A Bedford Falls Novel Book 1) (15 page)

A swell of emotion overcame him, and he put
a hand to his mouth to block the impulse to speak. If he did, his
voice would squeak, and he heard Damon’s voice enter his thoughts:
not attractive!
Alexander refused to utter a sound. The
apprehension he felt about leaving would soon be dwarfed by the
sadness that he’d endured the past two weeks due to having not
spent time with Marisa, which would spark tears. And if he let them
into his eyes, they’d soon slip out of with no end in sight. He
clenched his tongue between his teeth and bit down hard to replace
his melancholy with pain.

The group clapped and whistled and hollered,
hoping to get him to tear up.

But as he glanced at all of the friends he’d
made over the past two years, he didn’t spot the one person he
wanted to see most: Marisa. That realization closed off the
possibility of tear-streaked cheeks. Her disappearance blasted a
cool torrent of despair into his chest, debilitating him.

But then someone disclosed that Marisa had
set up this gathering. She’d also created the banner and the
multicolored streamers hanging from the ceiling, had hand-picked
and purchased the cake, and even set up a poster board sprinkled
with pictures of him and various other staff members. There were
pictures of him working to set up for their summer reading program,
speaking to the staff about the importance of customer service,
portraying a magician’s assistant for a children’s program, where
he was supposed to get cut in half, and countless other images that
spoke to how he’d dedicated so much of his time and energy to his
chosen profession. Beside each of these pictures, staff members
wrote a short goodbye note to him, recalling instances from their
past and wishing him good luck in his future endeavors.

This undertaking had clearly taken quite
some time to organize, and it chased away some of his sadness. It
meant that Marisa still cared a great deal for him. But just as he
got his hopes up, he figured that if Marisa truly loved him,
wouldn’t she be standing beside him now?

No longer flushed with emotion, Alexander
felt a lack of sentiment as he forced a smile and hugged dozens of
people who had played a part in his life. A huge Devil’s Food Cake
with the words “Our Favorite Traitor” in whipped cream made him
overlook his sorrow by chuckling. The group chanted, “Speech,
speech, speech” for about five seconds before he relented.

When everyone quieted down, Alexander said,
“Thank you, everyone, for coming. It really means a lot to me. And
the time we spent together these past couple years have meant even
more. I consider each of you not only colleagues but friends. And I
don’t underestimate what that means. People often make new friends
and shed others as life changes. But I’ll never forget the good
times we’ve shared…Now, let’s eat some cake!”

His words brought forth another round of
applause. As everyone enjoyed dessert, Alexander reminisced with
his colleagues. An hour later, after the last person helped him
throw out cups, plates, and plastic forks, he let out a deep
breath, prepared to leave this part of his life behind.

*

Marisa entered the staff lounge and stood in
the doorway, watching Alexander stuff garbage into the waste
basket. The past two weeks had been the most difficult in recent
memory. Making it through each day without sharing time with her
best friend felt like someone had severed a limb from her body.
She’d always counted on Alexander whenever she needed advice or
just someone to talk with. And more than that, she had spent much
of her time doing everyday things like shopping with him, going to
see movies, or just playing Chess or Scrabble.

Overall, until these past two weeks, not a
day went by where they didn’t communicate, either in person, on the
phone or via email or text. She felt guilty for ruining their
friendship, for dissecting a relationship that should have lasted
until only death separated them. But Marisa had considered it
necessary to keep their distance—if she hoped their friendship
would survive in the long-run.

She took another step forward. Only ten feet
separated her from Alexander. She suspected that he knew she’d
entered the lounge, but he hadn’t turned around for only one
reason; he didn’t want
her
to feel uncomfortable. And that
singular thought explained why she had a difficult time sleeping
these past two weeks.

Warm tears spilled down her face. He knew
her so well. Sometimes better than she knew herself. It became hard
to breathe, but she wouldn’t let him realize how badly she hurt, so
she steadied her nerves and took in a deep breath, telling herself
not to reveal how deeply missing him had affected her. Alexander
had admitted his feelings; he wanted more than friendship.

And since Marisa couldn’t meet those
expectations, she had to let him go. Trying to be friends with
someone who wanted more would lead to misunderstandings and
resentment. She didn’t want to give the wrong impression, so she
decided on the only other option available: they had to their go
separate ways.

Alexander cleaned up after others who had
gathered to wish him a goodbye, displaying yet another amazing
quality, showing that he would be sincere when helping his future
wife with chores around the house or picking up the wrapping paper
after his kids had opened all their gifts on Christmas morning.
These attributes sounded trivial, but how many women got to accept
help without having to ask for it? And that led to a different,
although somewhat related thought: if he took the time to help mere
friends, how much more love and attention would he lavish upon his
wife and children? It gave her yet one more reason to scold herself
for failing to consider him as anything more than a best
friend.

Because that realization made her feel
unworthy of his love, Marisa couldn’t help but blink away the tears
that shimmered in her eyes.

When he stood up, Alexander stopped, somehow
sensing that someone stood in the doorway. But he didn’t turn
toward her. Instead, he remained in place. “I’m glad you came. It
means a lot to me.”

Hearing his wavering voice and the words
that clarified his feelings, Marisa almost choked on words that
refused to exit her mouth. A wave of emotion overcame her, and she
bit her lower lip to stop the impulse to tear up. She wouldn’t let
that happen. Because if she did, the sadness that she’d endured the
past two weeks would make it impossible for her to stop the
waterworks. She stepped toward him but pulled up short and looked
at her shoes.

Still facing the opposite direction,
Alexander said, “I understand that you’re angry with me for messing
up our friendship. But I don’t regret telling you how I feel. And I
never will.”

But she didn’t want to speak or even think
about how their relationship had suffered these past two weeks. It
hurt too much. Anything she might say would come out wrong, and she
didn’t want to pour salt on an open wound. So didn’t it only make
sense that she had to cut off all contact?

“I don’t know what to say,” Alexander said,
“except that I miss you.”

Head down, Marisa continued walking up to
him, feeling moisture slipping into her eyes.

“You’re my best friend.”

The weight of that admission made her stop a
foot behind him. Through blurry eyes, she raised her head. That’s
when he turned around, so she rushed into his arms to prevent him
from seeing the tears in her eyes. And she felt it again, for
perhaps the thousandth time – every time they hugged, their bodies
fit together perfectly, which always reminded her of action figures
perfectly packaged in plastic bubble wrap.

Sometimes when she felt stressed out, upset,
or confused, Alexander would wrap her into an embrace, where
everything felt calm and allowed her to catch a whiff of his
cologne, which never failed to soothe her spirits. Afterwards,
whenever she left his arms, she felt as relaxed as if she had just
taken a warm bath. And that made her feel guilty, because Alexander
deserved so much more love than she could ever give.

He held her tight. “I know you don’t mean to
hurt me…and I don’t blame you.”

She broke away from him swiftly so he
wouldn’t see her wet and puffy face. Then she strode out of the
room before he had a chance to say even one word.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Later that evening, just as he’d done every
weekday over the past two weeks, Alexander spent the night on his
Harley, going over drills and practicing his technique: doing
figure 8’s, cutting sharp corners, shifting and downshifting in
quick succession. The moves came easier than in the past,
especially since last week, when Damon had ridden with him on
residential streets, giving him an opportunity to put his newfound
skills to use.

Now finished in the parking lot, he visited
the Illinois Secretary of State facility in Vista Heights for the
fifth time to work on weaving between cones, swerving, and a few
other exercises he would need to pass once he took the motorcycle
test to receive his license.

Technically, he broke the law by riding
without a partner, which could get him fined up to $1,000, adding
to the fright factor, but he couldn’t rely on Damon for everything.
Besides, he felt comfortable riding on less congested streets, and
practicing so often had increased his skills. Regardless, he still
hadn’t done as he would need in order to pass the test.

He needed to concentrate on something other
than his meeting with Marisa a few hours ago, which monopolized his
thoughts since leaving work. At least now, he knew how much she
cared for him – as a friend. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have shown up
before he left. Unfortunately, that information intensified his
sadness. And yet, the level of anguish he was experiencing seemed
almost necessary in order to get his mind off the fears he had
about riding.”

Each time he started riding, he gripped the
handlebars too tightly, his body tense and rigid, making it
difficult for him to find and maintain a comfortable position.

Now that it was mid-October, he had only another
couple weeks before the weather became too cold to ride. At this
pace, he wouldn’t be able to pass the test and receive his
motorcycle license before the end of the riding season. And all the
time, all the effort, all the money he’d poured into trying to pick
up this new skill would crumble under the weight of his fears.

Knowing that he’d actually ridden in traffic
without getting killed lifted his spirits and made the lingering
sorrow from the afternoon leave his mind. The confidence boost had
allowed him to relax, and he no longer clutched the handlebars as
though the bike would rocket away from him, sending him to the
concrete, scarred and bruised.

After practicing, Alexander parked his bike
in his garage and drove his car over to
Apocalyptica
to meet
Damon. Over the past two weeks, they had spent quite a bit of time
approaching women. At first, Damon had started the conversations,
but over the last week, Alexander had taken the lead. Sparking
conversations about everything from male-female relations to the
latest Hollywood gossip, he now found it much easier to put Damon’s
lessons into practice.

Now, they stood at the bar, checking out the
crowd, drinking bottled beer.

Damon kept his gaze locked on the crowd.
“See anyone interesting?”

“No.”

“Then you’re not looking.” He motioned to an
attractive redhead with glasses that made her look like she spent
her workdays at a computer. She wore a light blue dress shirt and
black slacks. “Go say hi.”

Alexander didn’t budge.

“What’s wrong?”

“It doesn’t feel right. I have no interest
in hooking up with someone. I told you, I’m in love with her.”

“Marisa is spending her nights with Brad. So
I’ll say it again: if you want her to find you attractive, you have
to practice building attraction. You have to make her want you. And
you aren’t going to make it happen by doing it half-assed. It’s
just like riding. If you go up to Marisa right now, you’ll feel
uncomfortable, which will make her feel uncomfortable. Women hate
that. They hate it, Alex. If you’re smooth, they’ll relax. They’ll
feel safe. They’ll feel comfortable. And you aren’t going to make
that happen by practicing without intent. You have to go all in or
go home.”

“But—”

Irritated, Damon put a hand through his
hair. “Remember Steve Carell’s son in
Crazy, Stupid, Love
?
He was in love with his babysitter. Remember how he kept saying,
‘Please…please love me’? How did the girl respond?”

“It pushed her away.”

“Exactly. He looked like a wimp, pleading
with a girl to love him. It’s sad. And, outside of the age
difference, that’s why she was disinterested. The more he pushed,
the more she pulled away. Because you can’t convince someone to
find you attractive. It either happens or it doesn’t.

“Julianne Moore wasn’t attracted to Steve
Carell in that movie, but because she knows he loves her, she has a
difficult time looking at him. She pities him. But he wants her
back; he’ll do anything to get her back. And that’s what makes
Steve Carell sleep with so many women in that movie. He does it so
he’ll be confident enough to win back his wife from Kevin Bacon’s
character. And he does. But he couldn’t have done it without
getting it on with those women.

“So, I’m not saying you have to sleep with a
bunch of chicks, but if you want the confidence you need,
especially after not having sex in two years, you need to feel
comfortable. And you won’t get it by pretending. Bottom line:
you’re Steve Carell, Marisa is Julianne Moore, and Brad is Kevin
Bacon. Now you know that Marisa wants to find you attractive. But
only you can make that happen. You have to know 100 percent,
without a doubt, that you will get her.”