A Life Less Ordinary (11 page)

Everyone
ate at one long table, in a warm, friendly atmosphere, and Manny had become
cautiously friendly with her fellow guests. 

There
was the young gay couple on their honeymoon from British Columbia; the two
middle-aged sisters who had more enthusiasm for sightseeing than even Manny
could muster; and the elderly man and his wife who were in San Francisco for a
granddaughter’s wedding and had initially been rather shocked by the newlyweds,
and had subsequently been anxiously worried about giving offence.  The young
couple were in love with each other and everyone around them, and they’d
quickly eased the elderly couple’s minds and easily befriended everyone staying
in the bed and breakfast.

Manny
subsided into a position of sitting quietly at the table, listening to the
conversation flowing around the room.  She envied Zeke his casual ease with the
others, and wondered when she’d turned into somebody with nothing worth saying.

It
sometimes made her feel very cold, lonely, small...and old.  Much older than
the elderly couple, and centuries older than Zeke and the newlyweds.

What
am I doing here?

You’re
re-learning how to connect with people.

I
have nothing to say to any of these people!  How can I reconnect if I can’t
participate in the conversation?

But
you’re listening with interest.

...that
doesn’t help much.

Small
steps, Manny.  You didn’t get here overnight – you’re not going to get out of
here overnight either.  Give yourself some slack.  And relax.  This isn’t like
being on the job.  Nothing is dependent on you succeeding or failing.

Except
my happiness.  And my mental health.

...point
taken.

Harvey
was almost constantly with her, usually casually dressed in jeans and a
button-down shirt, or, on occasion, well-fitted t-shirts.  He was always
impossibly perfect, but it was oddly comforting to see him from the corners of
her eyes during everything she did or experienced.  Perhaps it was a sign she’d
been alone too long although she preferred to think he was simply a way to ease
the loneliness caused by leaving Daisy and Rebecca – and everything else in her
life – behind.

That
night at supper, she listened to the conversations flowing around her, and by
the end of the evening, she’d agreed to go the next day with the sisters on a
guided tour of the city.

She
might feel awkward and lonely, but she was determined to enjoy seeing the
sights on this trip, no matter what.

* * * * *

TJ
spooned around Leah and breathed in her scent.  They’d spent yet another
evening reading pamphlets and books and web sites they’d dug up during the day
related to fertility issues, treatments and options.  TJ’s head pounded from
once more weighing and debating the pros and cons of each option and trying to
decide what would work best for them.  Money was no object – they had that
advantage at least - but there was still something inside him that hoped
against hope that there must be a simpler solution than the ones they’d been discussing. 
Even, he thought wistfully, that the doctor had made a mistake.

“Look,”
TJ said softly, “I’m going to go to another doctor – get a second opinion.”

Leah
frowned, and twisted to look at him in the darkness of their bedroom.  “Do you
really think the clinic – the most highly respected fertility clinic in town,
in case you’d forgotten – would make such a simple mistake?”

“It
happens all the time.  Besides, what does it hurt?”

Leah
frowned as she slowly said, “Okay...or is this just because you want to get
your hands on those girly magazines again?”

TJ
pulled back and dramatically placed a hand on his chest.  “You wound me!  I
only have to think of you and let nature take its course.”

Leah
laughed, rolled over to face him fully, and kissed him. “You flatterer – you’re
too good to me,” she teased.

“And
don’t you forget it,” TJ replied, giving her a smacking kiss.

“Anyway,”
he continued, his arms loose around her, his hands resting comfortably at the
base of her spine, “I’m going to get a second opinion, and then, if the results
are the same, see if there’s anything that can be done – you know, surgically
maybe – to improve things.  I mean maybe I have a – a - a blockage or something
– something that’s simple to fix.”

He shrugged sheepishly at Leah’s skeptical look.  “I know, I know
– but at least we’d know for
sure
.”

Leah
placed her hand flat on his chest and smiled a little sadly at him.  “If it’ll
make you feel better,” she agreed.  Then her smile changed, became suggestive. 

“In
the meantime,” she purred seductively, sliding her leg over his, “maybe you
should get some practice in for when you’re all alone again with that little
cup.”

He
slid his hands sensuously down her back to cup her bottom and pull her closer
against him.

“Well,
practice does make perfect,” he agreed, and Leah chuckled as she kissed him.

* * * * *

Manny
and Zeke left the bed and breakfast at mid-morning to join the Victorian house
walking tour that was scheduled to leave from a nearby hotel. 

The
late start had given them time to see the rest of their fellow boarders off
that morning, and Manny, to her surprise, had been hugged by all six of them,
especially the two sight-seeing-obsessed sisters.  Those two pressed their
e-mail addresses on her, promised to friend her on Facebook and asked her to
send them updates on her travels.

She
watched everyone leave with a mixture of relief, sadness and bemusement, and
wondered if she’d have anything worth telling them if she did e-mail them
updates.  So far, she thought ruefully, she’d been mostly just sitting like a
lump while other people did the talking and the doing.

Like
now.

Zeke
had been sidetracked by a darkly lovely young woman who’d struck up a
conversation with him after he held the door for her as they all entered the
hotel.

From
their body language and facial expressions, she knew they weren’t simply
discussing the sights of San Francisco or the upcoming walking tour.

You
know, if you sidle over a little closer you’ll be able to hear what they’re
actually saying.

Manny
slid an exasperated glance at Harvey.

I
already know what they’re talking about,
she replied primly.

Well,
maybe you could learn something.

Like
what?  And for what reason?  So I can give men advice on how to hit on other
women?  Again?

You
could use those moves to hit on a man, you know.

Oh. 
Yeah.  Because
that
always ends well.

You
always did give up too easily.

...I’m
not talking about this anymore.

...Fine. 
But sooner or later -

Enough!

Zeke
glanced over at her and frowned.  He turned back to the young woman he was
talking to.

“Give
me a second?” he asked with a charming smile.

She
agreed with a smile that was equally charming.

Now
that’s
a come-hither smile!

Manny
couldn’t remember the last time she’d looked at a man like that.  She wasn’t
even sure if she’d
ever
looked at a man like that.

Not
even at Zeke...are you sure you’re not dead from the waist down?

Shut.
The hell. Up.

Manny
forced a smile as Zeke came to a stop beside her.

“Listen,”
he said, putting a hand on her shoulder and urging her to move a few steps away
from the others waiting for the tour to begin who were now milling around the
lobby.  She flinched slightly from his touch and was grateful when he didn’t
appear to notice her reaction.

She
glanced up at him, suddenly struck by how tall and broad he really was, how
darkly handsome and how expressive his – she blinked – hazel eyes, she
realized, rather than brown, were.  To his credit he appeared honestly torn,
his eyes pleading, and she felt her smile become genuine rather than hurt or sulky.

He’s
actually rather sweet.

Sometimes.

“Go
ahead,” she said with an airy wave of her hand before he had a chance to say
anything.

He
blinked, taken aback.

“Are
you sure?” he pressed, his dark eyebrows lowered over his eyes as he frowned. 
For the first time she noticed how expressive his face truly was. 

“You
were really excited about this tour,” he added.

“And
you almost passed out from boredom at the thought.  I was worried you were
going to roll your eyes right out of your head.”

She
glanced with amusement at the lovely young woman who was watching them with
patient curiosity. 

“I
suspect you’ll have much more fun with her.”

Zeke’s
grateful smile turned into a wicked grin.

She
forestalled whatever he was going to say with a raised hand.

“Spare
me – please!” she groaned.  “Go.  Have fun.  I’ll see you later.”

“Thanks,
Auntie Em,” Zeke said, gently patting her shoulder.

She
shooed him off and watched him go with something that felt rather ridiculously
like affection.

Jesus,
you really are, aren’t you?

Are
what?

His
Auntie Em!

She
sighed and glanced ruefully at Harvey, who was gaping at her while looking
impeccably handsome in jeans, golf shirt and sneakers.  He at least was willing
to go on this walking tour with her.

I
know how to do that
, she told him now. 
I’ve been Auntie Em to a lot of
people; what’s one more?

You
could have at least been his sister instead.

Don’t
be ridiculous – we don’t look anything alike.

Harvey
put his hands on his hips and actually huffed in exasperation, before he shook
his head in disgust and disappeared from sight.

Manny
sighed, feeling a sudden chill of loneliness wash through her.  She wondered
what it said about her when even her imaginary friend didn’t want to stay with
her.

~~~~~

Late
that afternoon, Manny walked slowly back to the bed and breakfast, feeling
simultaneously satisfied with the tour while still feeling that cold chill of
loneliness and sadness.  A part of her wondered what, exactly, she was doing –
here, in San Francisco – travelling with Zeke – with her life, in general.

This
was what she’d wanted and yet – and yet – and yet she still wasn’t happy or any
more social than she’d been for the last fifteen years.  She still felt awkward
and like a stranger in her own skin.  She was still frustrated with where her
life had gone and terrified about where it would go in the future.  She
sometimes felt as if she wasn’t living anymore, that there was nothing exciting
left for her to do, or see – or feel.

She
wanted to stand on a rooftop – or, hell, here in the middle of the street – and
scream at the sky at the top of her lungs about how this wasn’t how her life
was supposed to be.  She wanted to sob and rage and stamp her feet and demand
that somebody somewhere give her...
something
more!  Whatever that
something
might be.

At
the same time, she wanted to fall to her knees and sob with fear.  Fear of
what, exactly, she didn’t really know, or couldn’t accurately describe.  Fear
of everything, really, she thought ruefully, but mostly she was afraid of the
very thing she so desperately wanted: 
life
.

She
laughed bitterly to herself.  She saw Harvey flicker into sight from the corner
of her eye, but she ignored him.  She didn’t need his voice in her head at the
moment; her own was more than enough to bear.

As
she let herself into the bed and breakfast, she wondered why her plans never
seemed to go the way she thought they would.  She’d hoped once she left her
dead-end job that she would stop feeling this way; this cold, fearful, lonely
sadness she so desperately wanted to banish.

“Ah,
Rose!”

Manny
paused, then backtracked to look into the sitting room she’d just passed.

“Leila!”
she grinned and walked to where Leila sat in her wheelchair.  Manny carefully
took her hand and gently squeezed it in greeting.  “What are you doing here?”

“I
have a doctor’s appointment in a couple of days,” Leila said in her smoky
Lauren Bacall voice, “and I thought I’d arrive a little earlier and see how you
and that charming Zeke are getting along.”