He chose an out of the way restaurant on the Upper West Side, far removed from the hustle and bustle of Lincoln Center. Down a side street and so obscure, there isn't a sign adorning the old brick exterior, only the red door gives an indication that something special lies inside. It is warm enough to wear a shawl over the red dress I selected. As we walk, I can't help but wish it was always this "easy" between us.
We are escorted to our table, near the back of the restaurant, where very few customers surround us. After we are seated, I notice how quiet he has grown. I wonder if he is thinking the same thing as me, that this is how it should be between us and probably would be if I had the guts to stay with him through the bad times.
We don't say much as we wait for our meal to arrive. I glance at him on occasion, catching him with his watchful eyes on me. Other times, he catches me as I keep watch over him.
We are matching cowards, I'm convinced of that. I'm not a strong woman, but that's a secret I'll carry with me until the day I die. I have let my fears get in the way, no destroy the best thing that has ever happened to me and every day, my entire being is filled with regret so strong, I'm not sure if I can go on. Life only gives us so many chances; I'm afraid I've squandered all of mine.
"You okay?"
"Yes, I'm fine."
"Why are you so quiet then?" His eyes widen in alarm, "are you in pain? Do you need to go to the hospital or something?"
"No, I'm fine," I insist, "I'm just thinking."
"You sure?"
"Yes."
He keeps looking at me, the way he used to. It means something; his looks always mean something. I half wish, okay, I completely wish he would give up everything to be with me the way I have given up everything to be with him.
"How'd we get here?" he asks, completely out of the blue. I nearly spit my wine across the table, but I quickly regain my composure.
"Not strong enough, I guess. Or maybe we just weren't meant to be."
"You think so?"
"I don't know; just a couple of guesses."
He leans closer, like he's going to take my hand and bring it to those beautiful lips of his. Oh, I wish he would let me feel them one more time, caressing my longing flesh. But, that would be cheating and probably even starting something that definitely won't end in the restaurant.
When we left Llanview together, we always ate at small, intimate restaurants like this. He was much freer with his affection, letting everyone in sight know we were together and nothing would break the spell that we had on each other. It was never like this; the air was never filled with this sort of thick tension, the kind that obstructs everything and everyone else around.
As always, something bad just has to interrupt us. I can feel it coming on, slowly; the change is something only I can feel. My eyes, I know, betray the secret of my unknown affliction. I'm falling and there's nothing for my hands to grab onto. His head is tilting and his lips are moving, yet I hear no sound.
My body is frozen with the tightening of my leg muscle. I cannot move to shake it off. My body cannot hold my weight; it has failed me.
Todd is moving toward me, coming to my side of the table and wiping the perspiration that somehow formed around my brow. He has my hand in his, trying to calm my trembling insides. I wish I could feel the kiss he planted on the side of my forehead; I wish I could feel anything at this point.
Gradually, my muscles begin to relax. I close my eyes with relief, and when I open them, Todd is right there by my side, panic stricken and at a loss. "Thanks," I mumble.
"You okay now?"
"Yes."
He isn't letting go of my hand; I don't want him to. "You sure?"
"Yes. Could you just take me home please?"
He doesn't say a word. He is suddenly in my space and his arm is draped protectively around my waist. "Tea, you gotta let me do somethin'. I can't just sit back and do nothin'."
"Can we just go home, please?" I choke.
*****
I hate being dependent on anyone for anything. I'm so used to being alone and I've learned the only thing I can count on in this life is myself and these days, I'm not all that dependable. Here is Todd, practically begging me to lean on him and I'm too stubborn to do it.
We do what we do best; we argue the entire ride back to my apartment. I know it was mostly me with my crankiness, desperately trying to not seem helpless. I can't let him see me this weak, but like I have this need to take care of him, he has the same need tot take care of me.
He opens my door, only to see Rachel sitting on the couch, halfway sleep. She straightens up as soon as she sees him, her eyes darting between the two of us. The last thing I want is for the two of them to start arguing with each other; lord knows how much they despise each other.
"What the hell is she doing here?" he asks me, simmering beneath the surface.
I can only imagine what he must be feeling; he almost went to jail for a crime she had committed. I know I still think about where we would be if things had gone differently that night; maybe we would still be together. I run my fingers through my hair, then walk away from him.
"Tea," he yells, "answer the question."
"She lives here," I spit right back at him, turning to look at the two of them.
"What do you mean she lives here?"
"Just what she said," Rachel interjects. "And what business is it of yours anyway?"
"She's my business," he grumbles.
I lean against the wall, deciding to let them duke it out amongst themselves. I don't have the energy to try and come between them; there really is no combing between them once they get started. It's almost like old times wit both of them trying to protect me from the other.
"Aren't you married with another child?" Rachel asks. "Why can't you just get out of her life and stay gone?"
"Why can't you get a job and your own place? Why do you always mooch off her?"
"I don't know how she puts up with you."
They bicker on for quite some time, completely forgetting that I am in the room. Neither one of them backs down, only raise their voices a decibel level or two. Finally, I jump in. "Please, just stop it," I beg. "It's late, I'm tired. Just stop."
Rachel gets up from the couch and heads toward her room. "Call me if you need me," she calls over her shoulder.
"Ta ta," Todd waves.
When we re alone again, I put my hands on my hips to let him know I'm pissed. Who does he think he is, pulling this jealous shit on me? I am too tired to say anything, so I turn and walk to my room. Of course, he follows a couple minutes later and makes himself comfortable in the middle of my bed.
"What hell do you think you're doing, Todd?"
"Don't tell me you're going blind too?" he quips to his own amusement. I don't crack a smile. "Aw come on, it was a joke."
"I'm not laughing."
"I see that."
*****
I am outside of my body; I watch from a distance as it convulses. God, I'm trapped, beating against my body, trying to make it stop. I'm pounding against it now, fighting myself until I am out of breath.
I am screaming at Todd, begging him to save me. I say, "Help me, Todd. Don't let me go without saying it, without telling you how much I love you. Hold me; I'm so scared and I'm all alone. Help me."
He is squeezing me, trying to stop my involuntary movements. Doesn't he know it's out of my control? His eyes are wide with sheer panic.
"No, don't leave me," I try to scream, helplessly watching as he leaves the room.
He's back quickly with a spoon, which he slips on top of my tongue. Rachel follows closely behind, screaming something at him and he yells something back. After what seems like an eternity, my body begins to settle and I gradually return to myself. Their voices begin to fade in and, finally, I can make out the words.
"What the hell did you do to her?"
"I didn't do anything; she just woke up and started shaking."
Todd leaves the room for a moment and returns with a damp cloth. "You okay?" he asks quietly, as he drapes it across my forehead. "This ever happen before?"
"No," I whisper hoarsely, fighting back the tears.
"The ambulance is on its way," Rachel interrupts. She is now by my side too, sitting on the opposite side of the bed, brushing my hair away from my face.
"I'm not riding in an ambulance," my pride says. "I'll go to the hospital, but I'm not riding in an ambulance." I get out of bed, even though I have little strength in my legs and even less air in my lungs.
