Authors: Christina Ross
Annihilate Me (13 page)
And
what was I supposed to say to
that
?
My
last two weeks at db passed more quickly than I anticipated.
The restaurant was busy, which made the
days go by quickly.
I spent my free
time in the mornings and afternoons with my nose buried in the
Journal
and in the
Times
to be prepared for what was coming next in
my position with Wenn.
Already I
had some ideas.
I
spent what time I could with Alex, which generally meant going to his apartment
when my shift was over, and each of us talking about our day over a glass of
wine or a martini.
The
sexual tension was growing between us, which made for some interesting late
evenings, though I hadn’t stayed the night again.
When I did that again, it would be for a
very good reason.
On
my last day of work, after the restaurant closed and my final shift ended, the
staff came out with a cake for me, with Stephen holding it in front of him and
leading the charge.
The
cake, a lovely dark chocolate confection, was lit with a single candle, and
everyone, including the chefs, was there to say their farewells to me.
Even
though I’d only been there a short time, I couldn’t help tearing up at the
sight of that cake and the kindness behind it.
In such a short period, we’d become a
team.
I didn’t realize I’d feel so
emotional at the finality of the situation, but I was.
I was grateful to have had such a
wonderful job, regardless of how brief it lasted.
This place pulled me out of the
financial fire and allowed me to stay in New York.
I felt indebted to it.
Stephen
placed the cake on a table.
“Please
don’t make me cry,” I said.
“I
can’t promise you that, since you’re already practically doing so.
But I hope you’ll promise us one thing.”
“What’s
that?”
“That
you’ll come back and visit us.”
“Did
you think I wouldn’t?” I said, hugging him.
“I’ll be back sooner than you
think.
Hell, I might even work a
shift!”
*
*
*
When
I left the restaurant, Alex was waiting outside for me.
He was leaning against his limousine,
and on his face was a trace of concern.
I kissed him quickly on the lips before I slipped inside, and he followed
after me.
“You’re
upset,” he said.
“I’ll
be fine.
I’m just a little sad, I
guess.
They were wonderful to me a
moment ago.
They brought out a
cake.”
I wiped my eyes and took a
deep breath.
“This is silly,” I
said.
“I’m sorry.”
“Why
do you feel the need to apologize?
I’m sure that was difficult.”
He grabbed my hand and held it in his lap.
“Tomorrow is a new day.
Tomorrow, you’re an employee at
Wenn.
At this point, most of your
belongings are in your new apartment.
I’ve talked with Lisa, who has overseen much of the move, and she said
that there are just a few things left.
Those will be taken care of in the morning and you both will be in your
new digs by the afternoon.”
“Thank
you.”
“It’s
my pleasure.”
He was quiet for a
moment, and then said, “You know what?”
I
turned to him, my eyes still bright with emotion.
“What?”
“I
haven’t had a vacation in over four years.”
His
wife died four years ago.
Blackwell
told me that since then, all he did was work.
I wondered where he was going with this,
but said nothing so he could talk.
“I
haven’t visited the family compound in Maine since I was a teen.
I want to take a week off with you and
go there.
I deserve it.
You deserve it.
The board has approved of it.
I’ve sent members of my staff there to
prepare it for us.
They’ve been
there this past week freshening it up.
When they leave, and if you agree to come with me, it will just be us.
No business.
No city.
Just us.
It’s been so long since I’ve been there
that I hardly remember what the place looks like.
But I need to remember.
I need to live a little bit again.
If you’re willing, I’d like to spend a
week there with you.
I want to go
to lobster shacks, I want to do some shopping, and mostly, I just want it to be
with you with no intrusions.
The
board has been advised of that.
Zero communication, unless it’s an absolute emergency.
Then, we’ll come back to Manhattan, and
start in with work.
Are you up for
that?
Will you come with me?”
So,
here it was—the next level.
If I went with him, there was no question what would happen between
us.
But it was time.
Who knew when it would happen when we
got there, but it would happen.
He’d take me.
It was time to
put my full trust in him.
And I was
eager to do so.
“I
know what you’re thinking,” he said.
“It doesn’t have to be that.”
Yes, it does.
“When would we fly out?”
“Tomorrow
at nine.
We’ll take one of the
corporate jets straight into Bar Harbor.
With car time, we should be there in less than two hours.”
“Tomorrow
morning?
But I’ll need time to
pack.”
“Lisa
helped me out there.
She gave me
all of your measurements.
Blackwell
also helped to that end.
I’ve had a
complete wardrobe sent to the house for you.
All of your favorite toiletries are
waiting for you.
Everything you
need.
And if you find that you need
anything else, we’ll just go to Ellsworth and buy it.”
“How
long has Lisa known about this?”
“A
week.”
“She
never said a word to me about it.”
“Your
friend can keep a secret.”
“Apparently.”
“She’s
wonderful.
I see why you’re so
close.
So, you’ll come?”
“Of
course I will.”
I held him closer
to me, but this time it was different.
This time I truly felt him, and it felt right.
I felt connected to him in ways that I
hadn’t before.
It was foreign
territory for me, but it wasn’t unwelcome.
I felt safe with him.
I
wanted to tell him that I was going because I
was
his girlfriend, not his companion.
But for whatever reason I couldn’t
define, the words wouldn’t come.
Instead, I said, “I’m so grateful for you, Alex.”
“You
don’t know what that means to me,” he said.
It
was close to noon the next day when we arrived at his home on the Point.
It was located in a stunning location,
right along the shoreline and overlooking the mountains, with Bar Harbor in the
distance.
It was completely
private.
Tall pines and trees that
were just starting to turn color due to the oncoming fall surrounded it.
The
air was so fresh that I just soaked it in when I stepped out of the car.
That was one of the things I missed
about Maine.
You could breathe the
air.
After spending a mostly
suffocating summer in the city, the salty ocean air was wonderful, as were the
cool breeze and the sound of the waves lapping against the shore.
“Let
me show you inside,” he said.
The
house was large, but not ridiculously so.
It looked freshly painted to me, and in fact, I had a feeling it
was.
Surrounding it were beds of
flowers that appeared newly planted.
The windows gleamed as if they’d just been washed.
He had told me he’d had people there to
freshen up the place, but that was an understatement.
It was clear to me that the house had
been scrubbed and polished for this visit.
“This
is a weird feeling,” he said as he stuck his key into the lock and opened the
door.
“I honestly can’t remember when
I was here last.
At least fifteen
years ago, if not more.”
I
followed him inside and could smell a hint of new paint.
The hardwood floors were polished and
waxed—they caught the sun coming through the windows and tossed it back.
We entered into the kitchen, which had
all new stainless steel appliances, likely because the old ones needed to be
replaced if it had been fifteen years since anyone had been there.
As we walked from room to room, I took
in the bright white trim and the subtle, bluish-gray walls, and then the
magnificent views themselves.
He
gave me the full tour, along with little vignettes as memories surfaced.
“This was my father’s library,” he said,
sticking his head briefly into the room before turning away from it.
“And over here is where mother would
read.”
“They
didn’t read together?”
“They
didn’t do much together.”
I
decided not to probe, and kept pace behind him.
We viewed guest bedrooms, a stunning
living room with full views of the ocean, bathrooms, and finally the master bedroom,
which was on the second level, just above the living room, and which shared its
panoramic views.
Here, the paint on
the walls was a soft, muted shade of green, and the king-sized bed was
obviously new, as were the beds in the rest of the house.
I watched him cross to a closed door,
and he opened it for me.
Inside was
the wardrobe he promised.
“This is
your room,” he said.
“I hope you
find the clothes suitable.”
“This
used to be your parents’ bedroom?”
He
shook his head.
“My mother took
this room.
My father took one of
the guest bedrooms.
I had one of
the other ones.”
“They
didn’t sleep together?”
“They
couldn’t stand each other, Jennifer.
Their marriage was a sham.
It was hostile.
But let’s
not talk about that now.
Later.
First let’s walk down
by the shore.”
He
obviously was on his way to opening up little by little to me.
Fair enough.
I knew what it was like to be pressed on
unpleasant matters when it came to family, so I said nothing and just chose to
listen.
Whatever he hadn’t shared with
me in the past would come out in time, probably during the ensuing week, and I
wanted him to feel comfortable when and if he did so.
“Where
will you be sleeping?” I asked.
“Just
around the corner.
In the room we
saw before coming here.
Are you OK with
that?
I could move to one of the
other rooms down the hall if you’d like.”
“No,”
I said.
“I think you should take
this room.”
He
grinned at me.
“Not on your
life.
When you wake in the morning,
the first thing I want you to see is that.”
He pointed to the window and beyond it
to the wide expanse of ocean.
It
was lovely, but I thought he also should see it when he woke.
And really, Alex, the first thing I’d
like to see when I wake is you.
So,
let’s see how the day goes....
The
shore was a mix of rocks, pebbles and what looked like gravel.
Maine had only a few sand beaches;
otherwise, much of the oceanfront was raw and rough to its core, not unlike
many of the natives who lived there.
The
tide was out, leaving clumps of seaweed in its wake, and the sun was
brilliant.
Alex reached out for my
hand and we started to walk along the water, our shoulders nearly touching.
I released my hand from his and wrapped
it around the low of his back so he was closer to me.
He wore jeans, a white T-shirt, and sandals.
I was in yellow shorts, a white tank
top, and also a pair of sandals.
The wind was strong enough to whip my hair around my face, and, even
though I knew I’d look like a hot mess when we got inside, I didn’t care.
This felt like heaven to me.
“Look,”
I said.
“Just ahead of you on that
large rock.
A starfish.”
“I
remember seeing them when I was a boy.”
We
went over and knelt beside it.
It
was small and orange, with bluish bumps on its back.
I carefully stroked it, admired it for a
moment, and then left it alone.
In
the well of water surrounding the rock, I also noticed a tiny crab that danced
away from me when I tried to touch it.
It raised its claws in defiance, regardless of the fact that my hand
dwarfed it.
I didn’t want to
frighten it—not that it looked as if it could be frightened—so I
also left it alone.
“It’s
magic here,” he said.
“Especially
now.
When I was a kid, it scared
the hell out of me when I was told we were coming to Maine.”
“Why?”
“Because
this never was a happy place.
After
a certain point in their relationship, my parents shouldn’t have been
together.
Here, they had to deal
with their feelings for each other because there was nowhere else to go.
There was no place to hide, as there was
in Manhattan where they could each do their own thing whenever they wanted
to.
So, they fought constantly
here.
I remember wishing as a boy
that they’d just divorce each other, but as I grew older, it became clear that
my mother never would grant my father the divorce he wanted.
She wanted all that came with the Wenn
name.
Of course, she would have
kept the name regardless of a divorce, but she knew that my father would have
crushed her socially, and that all she’d be left with was a portion of his
money.
So they stuck it out for all
the wrong reasons.
That’s why being
in a good relationship is important to me.
I don’t ever want what they had.
I had a chance once with Diana, but then she was taken from me.”
He looked at me while we walked.
“I didn’t think I’d have that chance
again.
Now, four years later, here
you are.
I’m so happy that you’re
here.”
“You’ve
never shared any of this with me.
I
know that was difficult.
It’s still
hard for me to talk about my own parents.
It can be painful remembering what I’d rather not relive, but I think
it’s important for you to know what I came from.
It will help you understand why I am who
I am.
Thanks for trusting me.”
“You’re
way ahead of me in terms of addressing your past with your parents.
At least you can talk about it.
For me, it’s almost impossible, but
you’re here now, and it’s time for you to get to know more about me and where I
came from.
Then you can decide for
yourself if you still want to be with me.
You once said to me that you weren’t perfect.
Well, I’m far from perfect,
Jennifer.
I’ve got my own demons to
wrestle with.”
“Which
ones?”
“Too
many to count.”
I
stopped him.
“Whatever your parents
did to each other is no reflection on you, Alex.
Same goes for my father.
And for my mother’s complete lack of
intervention.
What they did to me
is on them, not me.
Did my father’s
ranting, drunken idiocy affect me?
Of course it did.
Still
does.
Feel free to share whatever
you want with me, but you don’t have to share what you don’t want to.
I trust you enough to know that I can
talk to you without being judged.
I
hope you’ll come to feel the same with me.”
“I
already do,” he said.
“That’s one
of the reasons we’re here.”