Retreat to Love (7 page)

“Maybe you’re more into displacing your emotions than he is. He hasn’t acted at all like he’s got a problem with you.”

“Has he mentioned Ann at all?”

“Why would he? It was like a decade ago. Do you still mention Eva all the time?” Stupid me. Because of course he doesn’t. He hasn’t dealt with it, which I, the trusted and knowing little sister, am perfectly aware of. “Sorry,” I added.

He sat back down. “No, it’s okay. Like you said, it was years ago.”

“Zach. Come on, it can’t still hurt that bad?”

He wouldn’t focus on me. He just shook his head.

“You wanna talk about it?”

He shook his head again. “It’s not her, Ashlyn. It’s me. I mean, I’m worldly enough to know things just don’t work out sometimes, and at least she didn’t do anything cruel, like Ann. So it ended. Life goes on.”

“Well, then?”

“Well, then, she lives in Marin with her law degree and architect husband and baby girl. She’s happy, I’ve moved on.”

“So you keep saying.” It wasn’t the first time we’ve talked about love and the way it ends and what happens afterwards. But I’ve always let him bring it up before, or else I’ve talked to him about my own situations. And he’s never brought up the break-up with Eva, not since he told me what had happened.

“I know all the things to say, Ash. I’ll meet someone else. It’ll be magic. I’ll forget anyone like Eva ever existed. We’ll be so good together it’ll make my life whole in a way she never could have.” He looked at me then, and smiled a little. “And when all that happens, I’ll be happy.”

“You don’t think it will?”

“No, I do. Some day. Hell, tomorrow would be good. I’m open for it.”

“Well, I love you.”

He let me hug on him a while. “I love you, too, sis.” Pulling back, he added, “And if it were
Game of Thrones
we could go with that and live happily ever after. Well, not happily ever after. Those guys are fucked up. So it’s a bad idea.”

“Good thing. Cause I hate to burst your bubble and all, but you’re so not my type.”

He laughed, finally. “What? You crazy? Look at me, I’m downright perfect.”

“You’re a little skinny.”

“I’m just healthy. Check out these muscles.”

“And you’re definitely a nerd.”

“But a well-off one.”

“And above all, that mom of yours near bout scares me to death. That is one lady I do
not
want as a mother-in-law.”

“Now, that I can agree with.” Yawning, he stood. “I should hit the road, gotta actually go in for a lunch meeting tomorrow.”

“Poor guy. I gotta get up in about five hours to cook muffins for eight grumpy artists.”

“When I get home, before I go to sleep, I’ll cry a river of tears for you.”

“Thanks.” We hugged at the door. “And thanks for coming down and all. Now get the hell out of here.”

He headed out into the blackness, his headlights bobbing across the crushed white of the dozed-out road. I sighed. My brother, whisking through the darkness to his hip little stone house in Austin; he’d bought a three-bedroom in anticipation of needing both a study and a nursery some day. I had a key so I could crash in the guest room at a moment’s notice, and only four or five times had he asked me to stay away because there’d be someone else there in the morning eating his signature huevos rancheros. I was all about the free accommodations, but for his sake, hoped he would find the woman to make him forget the Evas out there can take all your love and trust and turn it around until you are afraid to give it to anyone else again.

Maybe someday.

Maybe tomorrow.

I closed the door and closed my eyes, sending happy ever after thoughts into the ether for my too-alone brother.

The alarm clock dragged me up through a confusing swathe of fuzzy dream-chatting with a 21
st
Century Martha Washington. It was 6:30; Caleb insisted I be by his side in the kitchen by seven. He
pfft
ed at my pointing out it takes only minutes to prepare cereal in a bowl of soy milk. 

In deference to my headache, I kept my grumblings quiet as I drenched myself in the shower. I had to wash my face three times to get the sleep rocks out of my eyes and the smell of my asparagus-soup tainted pee out of my nose. It was the kind of morning I most cherished my collection of oversized sweatshirts. I felt almost like myself when I stepped onto the porch of the Main House.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Caleb said over his shoulder as he rinsed potatoes in the sink.

“How long have you been up?”

“An hour, I guess. Zach got home okay?”

“I suppose. He’d sobered up before he left, and he’s used to being up until the early hours, so there’s no reason why not.”

“Here, grate these,” he said, passing me a chopping board loaded with peeled spuds. “We’re making latkes this morning.”

I looked around. “Isn’t there a food processor or something?”

“It makes it too fine. Latkes need texture. Use the coarse end.” He gathered up all the scraps of peel. “Have you seen a compost?”

I shook my head no. “Haven’t looked. She shoulda mentioned it on the tour, though. Just feed them to the electric pig.”

“The what now?”

I stifled a yawn in my collarbone before looking up at him. “The disposal.”

“God, you’ve gone all Texan on us again. Zach never did that.”

“He says the only thing anyone ever asked him in California was why he didn’t have a Texas accent. So he dropped it all, just told people he was from a little town called Spring and they assumed it was off I-5 somewhere. But ever since he moved to Austin, he grew more of a drawl than ever.”

“Doesn’t explain yours.”

“The beer explains mine. Pure and simple.”

Caleb smiled those crinkles again. “Well, it’s cute, you should drink more often.”

“I’m glad you enjoy it. Damnation!” I shoved him away to wash the blood from my knuckles where I’d grated them. “You’re sure I can’t use a food processor?”

“I’ll do it. You oil the skillet and put the sour cream and preserves into serving bowls.”

“Yes, sir.” I didn’t mind his being in charge so much, but surely he considered me capable of doing more than menial kitchen jobs. My silence was resentful enough to stop him issuing more orders until he had the first batch frying.

“Ashlyn, would you mind watching these so I can finish up the fruit salad? Just flip them when the edges brown up a little.”

“I’ve made potato pancakes before, Caleb.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“I also mix up a damn good black bean burrito, a zesty western omelet, and my home-toasted granola will knock your socks off.”

He stopped chopping to look at me. “Well, all your talk of sleeping in had me fooled. I had you pegged as a toasted bagel and out the door type.”

“Breakfast is my main meal when I’m working. I don’t feel like going through a lot of trouble for lunch and big dinners for one are depressing, so I sleep late, make myself something yummy, and get to it. But the key is sleeping late.”

“Well, remind me to give you a choice in what we make this week. Sorry if I’ve been a little pushy.”

A little pushy? He’d been the most militant cook I’d ever met. I hoped Wren didn’t mind being submissive once in a while.

As if summoned by my brain, she walked in, apparently scrubbed to freshness and vitality by her own morning shower. I would have snoop in her bathroom to see what product she used. “Morning, all!”

Caleb turned to smile at her. “Hi. Sleep good?”

She rose up onto her toes a moment. “Like a log.”

“You seemed so tired.”

I threw a questioning look Wren’s way. She just batted a hand at me as she reached for a coffee cup. “You all need any help?”

“No, we’re fine.”

“You can watch me set the table if you want.” I reached for a pile of plates and nudged her towards the dining room.

Seeing my raised eyebrows, she shrugged. “It’s not what you’re thinking, unfortunately. He’s not alluding to anything.”

“Well, did he walk you home?”

She nodded. “But that was it. A little good night hug. We just kept talking about how sleepy we were after the big meal.”

I glanced back through the transom to see if he was watching us. “It sounds good, though. He seemed pretty happy to see you this morning.”

“I know!” She hid a giggle in her coffee cup. “I’m not saying I’m not encouraged.”

Lizzy came in. “God, you’re really a couple of early birds, aren’t you?”

I yawned again. “No, but the latke-miester in there runs a tight camp.”

“I hope they’re as good as they smell. Brandon came up with pan-fried chicken and a side of canned green beans for us last night.”

“Goddess, what did Angelica eat?” She was the other vegetarian, with Caleb and I. Which hadn’t stopped her from letting Theo make bacon or sausage every morning, of course.

“I scrounged around and made her a rice pilaf to go with the beans. Had some of it myself, actually, and it was pretty tasty.”

“I hope you’re willing to recreate it if he’s planning on serving those pork chops in the fridge tonight,” Caleb said, coming in with the first platter of pancakes.

“Don’t worry, I’ll look after you,” Lizzy promised. She waited until Caleb went back for the applesauce. “Did you get some dirt on him? How was dinner?”

Wren leaned in to us. “Your cabin after breakfast, okay?”

I nodded. “And yes, I’ve got dirt. Boy, do I ever.” I straightened up as Caleb came back in. Poor guy. I could just imagine his expression that night, coming home late to hear Ann. Maybe some of those smile lines were from tension and tears. Our gazes locked for a while over the table as I contemplated him, then I retreated to the kitchen to bring out the juice and coffee.

As we ate, Caleb passed some of the credit for the latkes to me. Rafael didn’t show (surprise) and Theo came in to pack a tall plate for the two of them, so it was just my group and Brandon. I guess he felt a little left out, since he shut up after six or seven obnoxious comments and headed to the computer room with his second cup of coffee.

“You know, I’m almost sorry for the guy.”

Lizzy looked at Caleb. “Don’t. Have you not seen his stuff?”

Caleb winced. “Well, there is that.”

“He needs all the working time he can get. Sitting here with us won’t make him any better.”

“But will sitting in there on the computer help?” Wren pointed out. “The man needs to develop a purpose, then develop some pics to go along with it. What is he trying to do?”

“You know what?” I stood. “As long as you don’t ask him when I’m around to listen to the answer, I don’t care. I think an artistic mission statement from him would be more than I could handle.” Gathering the rest of the plates, I went to the kitchen. “You’d think a dishwasher wouldn’t be too much of a convenience, wouldn’t you?”

Caleb, following me with the empty pitcher and a tub of cups, told me Margie and the founders’ philosophy about hand-washing building community spirit while discouraging any one team from leaving a half-load of dirty dishes for the next to deal with. “Which is not to say we can’t leave this until lunch time, if you want.”

“No, we’d best to get it done now. Like I said, I don’t like to spend a lot of time cooking in the afternoons.”

“I’ll do it, then, you go on to work.”

“Why? That’s not fair.”

“It’s fine, I think well when I’m cleaning. And I feel bad for underestimating your kitchen prowess.” I glanced back through the transom, where Lizzy and Wren were whispering and obviously waiting for me to spill the beans.

“You sure?”

He wrapped a dishtowel around his waist. “Sure.”

“I’ll make it up to you later.”

His eyes locked with mine again. “I’ll count on it.”

“So, I take it you’ve heard the high points of dinner,” I said, flopping onto the sofa beside Lizzy.

“Pretty much so.”

“Dinner’s nothing. Tell us what Zach said,” Wren insisted as she came out from the bathroom.

“You pee more than anyone I know.”

“Shut up. I have a weak bladder, I don’t like to take medication.”

“Okay, as long as you’re aware of the situation,” I said.

Lizzy nudged me. “We don’t care about Wren’s toilet habits. Tell us what Zach said.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, as it turns out ...” I watched them to see who would choke me first. Just as Wren lunged at me I added, “Zach had told me this when it happened, since it was so awful, and neither of us remembered it was Caleb until we started talking about things last night. Zach feels terrible now, but I told him Caleb wasn’t going around blaming him or anything.”

“For what, for God’s sake?” Lizzy asked.

“Okay, here it is. First, Caleb and Zach mostly just saw each other at the computer lab, so he didn’t have much intel on casual girlfriends. Just, he seemed pretty relaxed about dating, you know?” They nodded. “But then there was this one woman, Ann, who got kinda tight with Eva, so they all spent more social time together.”

“And?” prompted Wren, when I broke off to drink water.

“And they doubled a few times, went into San Francisco for concerts, stuff like that. It had been going on between them for most of their junior year, and she was pre-med so she was talking about where she’d end up, and he was saying maybe he could go along, since he wasn’t going to get an MFA right away. Oh, and her last name was Kym, and everybody made jokes about her being Dr. Kym-Kendall, so it must have gotten pretty intense between them. Then one night they were all meeting at Eva’s for a movie, and Caleb was late, so they missed the beginning and decided to just skip it.”

I sipped again. Talking after eating makes me thirsty. “There was a party in Eva’s courtyard, some of the residents were doing, like, a potluck social or something, so they went there instead. When Caleb showed, all apologetic, Ann gives him the cold shoulder, so he talked to Zach a while then headed off alone.”

“She didn’t come home?” guessed Lizzy.

“No, she did. Zach dropped her off on his way back to his dorm.” I snorted. “Not that he slept there much, unless he had an early class. But Frank and Bernadette were paying for it, so he popped in once in a while just to confuse his roommate and check his messages.”

“Then what was the drama?”

“She slept with Zach?” asked Lizzy.

“No! You’re terrible at this game,” I told her. “Zach and Eva were joined at the pelvis. He wouldn’t, anyway. No, this was a few weeks later. Eva had started wondering why Ann kept coming by just to say a quick hello, as she put it. Then one night she’s headed out to the library and sees someone down the hall with a suitcase. She knew there were a couple of empty units on her floor, so she didn’t wonder much. After the library she goes to the computer lab. The usual crowd of geeks is there, including Zach and Caleb. They invite Caleb to go for a late-night latte with them, but he says no, he’s headed home. So Eva and Zach go on their own.”

“Ann was gone?”

“I told you to stop guessing, you’re horrible. Besides, it’s worse than anything you’d think up.” I wished there was some room to pace in this den, or we were all in my studio, or outside. The whole thing made me restless. “Caleb goes home at his usual time. Everything’s dark, so he thinks Ann’s turned in early. She’d been acting a little stressed with microbiology, or something.”

“She was hacked up, right?”

“Ooh, yuck. No!”

“Well, you said it was bad.”

“It was. Shush. Like I said, it was dark. So he’s quiet, not wanting to disturb her. He sits on the sofa to take off his shoes. As he bends over, he hears it.” I looked at them one at a time. “Sex. People coming. And one of them, he knows for sure, is Ann.”

Wren let out a sad little chirp, and Lizzy gasped, “Who else?”

“Eva’s neighbor, a guy named Ted. They’d been at it since the night of the party. But apparently Caleb was such a sweetie she couldn’t stand to tell him it was over. So instead she staged the overheard sex act. Ted didn’t even question why they were going to her place for once. She timed it all so Caleb would be home when they climaxed.”

“What did he do?” Wren’s eyes were moist.

I shook my head. “This is what kills me. She obviously thought he’d storm in there and have it out, but instead he just got up and left. He went to the cafe where Zach was, actually, but he didn’t tell them anything. Just sat there not drinking his coke and pretending to listen to the conversation. Around one they all leave and he goes back to the apartment to sleep on the sofa. Ann’s still in the bed, but Ted is gone. He checked.

“She got up early and showered and left, not even a note. He was awake but pretended not to be. Once she was gone, he goes to pack up her stuff, and it was all gone.”