From Comfortable Distances (28 page)

Tess tried to remember the situations
of her life that she had run away from—her ex-husbands, she supposed. But what
about now—was she running away from anything or letting go of things? It was
too much to consider. She stifled a yawn.

“You're tired,” Neal said.

“Yes,” she said. Slowly, Tess sat up
and made her way up to her feet. She looked down at Neal on the mat and he
smiled up at her.

Neal made his way to his feet so that
he stood before her; she felt the tension between them and nervous tingles
filtered through her, making her feel lightheaded. He moved a curl off of her
face, and she caught his wrist and kissed his hand, their eyes lingering on one
another. It was Tess who broke away first. She began to gather up the extra
plates and the utensils and salad dressing. Neal rolled up the yoga mats, and
then moved over to the table to help her, gathering the garbage and making sure
the grill was shut off. She caught him looking up at the sky one last time as
they walked in, and once inside, she locked up the door, switched off the
backyard lights, and asked Neal to pull the blinds together.

They passed by the basement study on
the way up, where his stuff was, and Buddhi darted from the room, running up
the steps in front of her.

“I can't believe it's 10:00,” Tess
said when she put the plates and utensils down on the kitchen counter. She
didn’t remember an evening that had flown by this fast in a long time. “You can
leave the yoga mats by the stairs,” she said.

“It's been a long day,” Neal said.

Tess thought about Neal's mother
dropping him off that morning. That seemed like a week ago. “Yes,” she said.

“Can I help you?” Neal asked. “I'm
glad to do the dishes.”

“No, thank you,” Tess said. “I'll run
the dishwasher.”

Neal stood by the table, the cat
sitting at his feet, the two of them waiting while Tess put things away here
and there.

“I guess this is goodnight,” he said
and she nodded. “Thank you, Tess. I had a wonderful evening.”

“Me too,” she said. “Thank you for
dinner.”

“I’ll get my stuff from downstairs,
if you’ll wait a minute to let me out,” Neal said.

Buddhi sat still, watching with Tess
as Neal walked down the stairs. When he reappeared, satchel in hand, she smiled
at him. It had been one of the most romantic nights of her life. One of the
most unexpected nights of her life.

He moved toward her and kissed her
once on the lips—a quick, firm kiss—before he bowed his head, and was out the
door into the cool night air.

“What do you mean he
quit?” Tess said.

“Well, usually that means
a person won’t be working here anymore,” Michael said.

“That’s ridiculous—he’s
closing houses left and right. He’s my top performer right now,” Tess said.

“Exactly. He thinks he
doesn’t need Best anymore.”

“So he’s going out on his
own?” Tess said.

“Tess, I’m just the
bearer of news, not his biographer.”

“When did he call you?”
Tess said.    

“Five minutes before I
walked into your office to tell you.”

“Why would he call you
and not me?” Tess said.

“When’s the last time you
had a conversation with him?” Michael asked.

“That’s not fair. I talk
to all of my agents daily,” Tess said.

“Yeah, to tell them to
close deals and instruct them on how to make it happen. When’s the last time
you asked any of them what’s going on in their lives?”

“Michael, I’m running a
business, not group therapy.”

The intercom system
beeped on: “Ms. Rose?”

“What is it Lynn?”

“I have a Kyle Dunfried
on the phone for you.”

“Put him through,” Tess
said.

Michael backed his way
out of the room and Tess held up her finger to him motioning hold on.

“Hi Kyle—could you hold a
moment?” Tess said.

“I’m going to call Max
when I get off the line, so if he calls you back, let him know he’ll be hearing
from me,” Tess said.

“Aye aye captain,”
Michael said.

“Anything else?” Tess
said.

“Jana didn’t close that
house in Bergen Beach,” Michael said.

“What do you mean she
didn’t close it? The couple made an offer and I told her to accept.”

“Yes, but she felt she could
get more money,” Michael said.

“Kyle, one more moment,”
Tess said into the phone before she put him back on hold.

“Is she kidding? It was a
hefty offer they made. I wanted her to accept,” Tess said.

“When I asked her this
morning if I needed to get started on the closing paperwork, she told me it
wasn’t a close because they didn’t meet her terms,” Michael said.

“Great, now I have kids
with real estate licenses thinking they can do what they want. A couple offers
$750,000 for a house and she tries for more money. These agents I’ve got are
brilliant. Absolutely brilliant,” Tess said.

“Sorry, Kyle. How can I
help you?”

“Just checking in to see
if you have any apartments for me,” Kyle said.

“Haven’t had a minute to
check in the last few days, but I will.”

“Did the sale for the
brownstone in Brooklyn Heights go through?” Kyle asked.

“It did.”

“Right,” Kyle said.

“There’ll be others. And
you know that wouldn’t have worked—Dale didn’t want to be there,” Tess said.

“I wonder if she’s going
to want to be anywhere. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do at this point:
keep searching or give up?”

“Look Kyle, not that I’m
in the advice giving business, but if I were, I’d probably tell you to just
live today, not worry so much about where you’re going to move to in the
future.”

“Did Dale tell you to ask
me to lay off?” Kyle asked.

“Dale told me no such
thing. I’m saying that to you to help you keep your sanity,” Tess said.

“So you don’t think I
should worry about buying an apartment right now?”

“I think you should focus
on enjoying your time with Dale. Let all of the details fall into place as they
will. I’ll still keep my eyes open for you, let you know what’s out there,”
Tess said.

“I appreciate that, Tess.”

“So we’re all set?” Tess
said.

“Tess, do you think Dale
and I will make it?”

“Kyle, that’s a question
I can’t answer.”

“I know, but you’ve been
spending a lot of time with her; do you think she wants to marry me?”

The intercom beeped: “Jana
is on the phone for you, Ms. Rose.”

Tess hit mute; “tell her
to hold,” she said to her assistant.

“Kyle look, I have
another call, but here’s what I want to leave you with: just keep getting to
know Dale. Of course you know her, but take time to listen to her—not only to
the things she says, but the things she doesn’t say, too. Can you do that Kyle?”

“I can try,” he said.

“Okay then. I need to
sign off, but we’ll talk soon. And I’ll keep you posted on apartment
developments.”

Tess clicked into the
line that was holding.

“Are you nuts, Jana?”

“They have the money
Tess. I don’t see any reason to come down $25,000 for them.”

“You don’t need to see
the reason. They offered $750,000 and I instructed you to accept. It’s lovely
that you want to go for your maximum commission, but last I checked I’m in the
business to sell houses, not lose quarter of a million deals over twenty-five
grand. So here’s what you’re going to do: call them back and tell them you’ll
close the deal today for $760,000.”

Jana laughed. “You’re too
much.”

“Thank you. And if they
won’t hear of $760K, you tell them you need to consult with your boss and call
them back in an hour and say okay to $750K. You got it?”

“Yes, Tess.”

“Wonderful. Call me later
with the good news.”

Tess looked up at the
ceiling, stretching her neck, and breathed deep and slow before she brought her
neck back level. She scanned her to do list in her Outlook calendar and picked
up the phone.

“Mr. Genovese,” she said
when he picked up on the third ring. She put her legs up on the desk and flexed
her feet and released them. Since she started her yoga marathon, parts of her
body ached that she never knew existed. “Good morning.”

“What do I owe the
pleasure to Tess Rose?”

“I’ve got a house for
you.”

“Tell me about it.”

“On the water, 56
^th
drive, four bedrooms/bathrooms, built in pool, marble floors, twelve-foot
ceilings, circular driveway. Just on the market, as of yesterday, and it’s an
exclusive with Best.”

“How much?”

“Why don’t you meet me to
see it and then we can talk details.”

“Have you seen it?”

“Assessed it
yesterday—let’s just say I can guarantee that it’s worth your while.”

“Why does the family want
out?”

“Divorce.”

“Got it.”

“I can meet you there by
4:00—I’ll have my assistant get back to you with the address and send you the
specs,” Tess said.

“See you at 4:00 and look
forward to hearing from your assistant.”

“Sounds good, Mr.
Genovese.”

Tess sank back in her
chair. What she loved about being a realtor was the moments when she knew,
without any shadow of a doubt, that a house was the right match for one of her
clients—that the match would result in a sale. It was a knowing that she
reveled in, a knowing that she had never experienced in any other facet of her
life except for her career. She had often laughed at herself over it—she
couldn’t find the right match in love, but when it came to matching people with
houses, she was dead on 98% of the time. She was good at real estate because of
her intuition, so why, she wondered, couldn’t she tap into her intuition for
other segments of her life?

“Lynn, get Max on the
line, please,” Tess said.

“Yes, Ms. Rose.”

Tess tapped her pen
against her desk.

“Ms. Rose, I’ve got Max
on the line, but a call from a Mrs. Clay just came in. Do you wish to call her
back and get on with Max?”

“Tell Max I’ll get back
to him; put Mrs. Clay through.”

“Good morning, Mrs. Clay,”
Tess said.

“Neal will be dining at
my house tonight.”

Tess cleared her throat. “I
see,” she said.

Ms. Clay laughed.

“You have a sense of
humor,” Tess said.

“I laughed over your
comment that
you see
; that’s quite a statement from someone as blind as
you are,” Mrs. Clay said.

Tess picked up her pen
again and began to tap.

“Quite a statement indeed
from someone who does anything but see,” Mrs. Clay said.

Tess leaned in and held
the phone close by her lips, as if she were talking to a bookie. “Mrs. Clay,
what is it that you want from me?” Tess said.

“It’s one thing if you
choose to live recklessly and ruin your life, but I won’t have you destroying
Neal’s life.”

“This is between you and
Neal. You’re going to have to work this out with your son. This is not about
me,” Tess said.

“After you’ve got him
under your spell?” Mrs. Clay asked.

Tess lounged back in her
chair. She had to do something about the fluorescent lights—they felt
intrusive, obnoxious. She scurried her chair over and flipped the light switch
off. That was better.

“I assure you that I
don’t have him under any spells, Mrs. Clay.”

Tess pulled open the
blinds, sunlight piercing the room. It cast a glare on her computer screen so
that she titled the screen downwards.

“You obviously
underestimate your sexual ways,” Mrs. Clay said.

There was a knock at her
door and then Michael peeped in: “You got a minute?”

Tess held up her hand and
cupped the receiver: “Give me ten minutes.”

“Apparently you entertain
men at all hours of the day,” Mrs. Clay said.

“Mrs. Clay, I don’t have
time for your preposterous accusations—I’m at my office.”

“The truth needn’t hurt
if you live a moral life,” Mrs. Clay said.

“This conversation is
over,” Tess said.

“You haven’t heard the
last from me,” Ms. Clay said.

“Enjoy your evening with
Neal; I’m sure that you two will have
tons
to catch up on,” Tess said and
slammed the phone down.

Scrawled across the brick
wall of the building across the street was RIP in white spray paint, the
letters bubbled with red tears dripping from them down towards the name
Ice
Man
painted in the same bubbly white letters.
Not to be forgotten
was
written below in red square blocked letters—the words loomed like a threat.
Tess wondered how many days she had looked out at the wall while she was on the
phone without ever really seeing what it said.

There was a knock on the
door and then Michael burst in.

“Hey, I need you to…” he
trailed off peering at Tess out of narrowed, skeptical eyes. “What’s wrong with
you?” he said.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Tess
said.

“You suddenly look
exhausted,” Michael said.

“Not at all. Just thinking
for a moment,” Tess said.

“If you ask me, that yoga
stuff is taking its toll on you; I thought it was supposed to rejuvenate and
make you feel younger.”

“Michael, the yoga stuff
is just fine. What is it?” Tess asked

He handed her a file. “Need
you to take a look at the final file for the house on Whitman Drive.”

“That deal is done?” Tess
said.           

“Going to closing today.
Max’s work. You speak to him yet?” Michael said.

 “I need to call him back
now,” Tess said.

“You sure you’re okay,
Tess? You look about ten shades lighter than you did an hour ago.”

“I’m fine,” she said.

He appraised her and
nodded hesitantly before he made his exit. Tess lay her head down on her hands
on her desk. A long, deep, muffled moan escaped from her. It was unfathomable
to her how much had happened in her life in a matter of days: the fiasco with
Neal’s psycho mother, his showing up at her doorstep. The daily work issues
came and went—that’s what it was to run a business. She thought of the note
Neal had left her on her screen door this morning:
The day is yours for the
making
.
Enjoy all the moments.
He had signed it,
Yours, Neal.
It
had made her smile.
Yours.
She wasn’t sure how that would feel to her if
he were hers.

Hours later, Tess sat
cross legged in the corner of her bedroom, squinting up at the ceiling each
time she read another of the yamas, as if its description was etched above. The
yamas were one of the eight limbs of yoga according to Patanjali, the author of
the
Yoga Sutras
. She couldn’t imagine ever getting it all straight.
Yamas were the things one was supposed to abstain from. That seemed easy
enough. You weren’t supposed to cause harm, steal, have sex, be greedy, or lie.
Not causing harm meant not eating meat, because killing animals to get meat was
a harmful act. She had been raised on that philosophy, although back in those
days she had thought her mother cruel for not taking her to McDonalds. Now, she
didn’t particularly care for meat, so no issues there. She wasn’t too worried
about stealing. Although she was sure that Neal’s mother would accuse her of
stealing Neal from God. Or stealing him from his mother. Her laugh came out as
a grunt.