From Comfortable Distances (37 page)

The cars were lined up
all along the turn onto Whitman Drive and parked bumper to bumper on Michael’s
semi-circle driveway. Tess imagined that the neighbors across the street would
be calling the police due to the commotion. Regardless of her nudging, Michael
hadn’t grasped the concept of inviting all of his in-view-of-his-home neighbors
so as not to have them “tell” on him to the police. Michael claimed that his
neighbors had nothing to do with Best Reality and therefore he was under no
obligation to include them in his second annual Best Reality Labor Day/Birthday
Celebration Bash.

Tess paused for a moment
and hid behind an evergreen two doors away from Michael’s house to adjust her
ivory pants suit. Michael would appreciate her navy Gucci loafers. She took a
deep breath. Parties made Tess feel small, like a tiny fish swimming in an
ocean. All those people but no real connections, talk for the sake of talking.
She couldn’t picture Neal there with her—walking in with him and introducing
him around seemed like too much work, especially having to elude Michael’s
comments, not to mention causing a stir with her staff. It was for the best
that she hadn’t mentioned the party. Besides, it’s not as if they were truly a
couple; they were just people who spent time together.

Michael stood at the
backyard door greeting everyone that walked in with his sheepish grin and his
sparkling blue eyes. She envied this of Michael—his freedom at gatherings, his
ability to socialize and not feel as if he had to run away to get back to
himself. When he winked at her, though, holding up his glass in a mock toast,
she remembered how the non-stop show of Michael had tired her. How she had felt
lonely trying to get to the real Michael, as if he was covered with a web, and
no matter how hard she tried to break through to the real Michael, she
couldn’t. It had only been after they split that she had glimpsed the real
Michael and in those glimpses, he had been desperate to get her back, as if she
were something to be won.

She was sure that Michael
would say the same about her—that he hadn’t been able to know Tess while they
were a couple, and most likely he was right. It wasn’t that she didn’t want
people to know her, but she understood that letting a person know her meant
that rejection was a possibility. It was hard work to be yourself. Thinking
about this made her feel like a kid in grade school. Foolish and insecure.
Which reminded her of how she felt towards the end of her marriage to
Michael—that he was more like a child to her than a husband. He was always
expecting something or other of her. Tess didn't like to be counted on for
things. It wasn't that she was stingy or greedy. It was that the expectations
of others made her nervous. What if she couldn’t live up to them? What if she failed
to satisfy others? She believed that she could give a person topical
things—money, conversation, companionship – but she could never give herself.
People couldn’t give themselves—she believed that—and it was probably a good
thing, too, she supposed, because no one really wanted you anyway. It was parts
of you that people wanted to fill in the gaps within themselves.

Michael embraced her and
feeling it go on a bit too long, Tess pulled away.

“Come on, it’s my
birthday,” Michael said. “Give me a break.”

In the distance, out by
the dock, she saw some of her agents. It was hard for her to imagine them
having a life outside of her office, or maybe it was hard for her to imagine
them in her social circle. It wasn’t that she didn’t like them; it was just that
seeing them made her think of all the things she had to get done at the office.
Aside from Michael, she had been careful throughout her career not to mix
business with pleasure. Michael leaned to kiss her on what looked like it was
going to be her lips and she turned her cheek to him so that his kiss fell dead
center her cheek.

“You’ve had a bit too
much to drink, my dear,” she said.

“Wow, tonight I’m a dear.”

“You’re a dear when I
don’t want you to make an arse of yourself.”

“My girl.” He pushed her
an arm’s distance away from him to take her in. “You look very nautical
tonight,” he said. “The navy Gucci loafers, great touch. I’m ready to get on
board.”

“Did anyone ever tell you
that you’re too much, Michael?”

“Where’s the weirdo? Oh
let me guess, he’s at Mass?”

“Now I know you’ve had
enough to drink. Perhaps it’s not too late for me to cancel the case of wine I
got you for your birthday,” she said.

“It’s a legitimate
question for a religious man.”

“For your information, I
chose to come alone tonight,” Tess said.

“Which means to me you’re
not staying, just here to make your appearance.”

“I’m glad you have it all
figured out,” Tess said.

Just then a few guests, a
couple that had bought a starter house, and Michael’s research assistant, were
gathering behind her, waiting to greet Michael and make their way into the
party.

“I don’t want to hold up
progress,” Tess said, nodding towards the line that had formed behind her.

Michael made a sweeping
gesture with his hand for her to enter. “Enjoy yourself, dearest,” he said.

Tess whispered in his
ear, “Last drink for you for the night.”

He saluted. “Aye-aye,
captain.”

Tess made her way to her
team. There were three of her agents, her assistant Lynn, and two more of her
agents were walking over to the group as she made her way from the opposite end
of the backyard. No one had brought his or her spouse, but then again, she
couldn’t remember if everyone was still married or even married at all. Over
the years she had been invited to some of their weddings, but in general, there
was always so much drama going on in the office between this house and that
house, agents in and out of the office on their way to show houses, and buyers
and closes and contracts, that there’d never been much time for her to catch up
on their personal lives. Her mind paused: did she regret that? Did she wish she
were more connected to her team, that she did group dinners and such more?
Heaven’s no. She didn’t have time for that. She was running a business. And
then she remembered her small and informal wedding to Michael at her favorite,
since closed down, Italian restaurant in New York City to which he had insisted
on inviting the office. Tess cringed thinking about that. She imagined that the
office had a field day gossiping about her and her fourth marriage, not to
mention seeing her in a romantic sense. At least she had worn a tan cocktail
dress versus a virgin white gown.

“Anyone know where to
find a good deal on a house?” Tess said.

“I have a few to show
you,” Max said. Laughter erupted amongst the group.

“And I’m sure you’d give
me a good deal, too,” Tess said.

“I learned everything I
know about good deals from you, Tess,” Max said.

“Remember when Tess used
to drag each of us with her when she was showing houses so that we’d see how it
was done?” Max said.

“I tape recorded Tess
once so that I could study her selling techniques until I realized that she
changed her dialogue for every sell.
No two buyers are alike
. I heard
that so much my first few months I thought I was going to lose my mind,” Jana
said.

“What’d you used to call
it, our pledging semester? Remember our weekly drills? Tess would give us case
scenarios and make us create dialogue around them. It’s was like taking acting
classes,” Max said.

Tess laughed. “I’d
forgotten about that. I used to be a rough boss, huh?”

“Used to be?” Lynn said,
so that the group laughed again.

“Oh come on, Tess has
softened up a lot in the past few months,” Max said.

“Do you mean that?” Tess
said.

“You seem less bothered
by it all,” he said, “and I should know with all the stuff I pull.” Laughter
again.

“What would I do without
you all?” Tess said.

“Probably close 50 deals
a month on your own,” Max said.

She smiled at the group,
and winked at Max. “If you’ll excuse me for a moment, I need a drink.”

Tess made her way up to
the refreshment table and poured herself a glass of Perrier. Her agents were
laughing hysterically about something now. She didn’t know if they liked her,
if they thought she was a jerk, but this much she knew: she had helped them all
to become successful and long after they had progressed in their lives, whether
they moved past Best Realty or not, Tess would be able to reflect that she had
helped their careers. She made her way past the perimeters of the backyard
party space, and making sure no one had detected her wandering, she walked down
the steps leading to the dock and made her way onto the beach. Her loafers made
an impression in the moist sand. As she moved closer to the water’s edge, sand
got into her shoes, but she didn’t mind it. She made her way onto the dock and
moved across it further out into Jamaica Bay. The water glistened under the
lazy, late afternoon sun and she looked up to the sky under the cool breeze,
feeling it rustle her hair. The faint promise of fall was in the air and she
remembered the spring night, not more than a few months back, when she had
brought Neal to this spot. His first time out on the docks. So much changed so
fast. The nature of life. She believed in change, had imposed it on her life
again and again, via the comings and goings of her relationships, but had she
ever changed at her core? Maybe it was that people never really changed so much
as they evolved into different versions of themselves at different points in
their lives, their core remaining the same. But if at her core she had remained
the same, then who was she really? Her mother’s daughter, the independent
businesswoman she had whipped herself into, a wife, a mother, a flop? The
comings and goings of the waves mesmerized her. Always in motion. When and for
what would Tess stop?

For a moment, she
imagined Neal beside her and turned to look: flocks of birds surrounded her on
the dock and she closed her eyes in the lazy breeze. Life seemed to make more
sense with her eyes closed. The feeling-Tess was so different than the
seeing-Tess, who was programmed in ways that were sometimes counter to her
feelings. She thought of Neal at home with his mom. She couldn’t imagine if
they were formal and awkward when they were alone together or if there was camaraderie
between them—if they laughed and reminisced.

The screech of the
pigeons resounded in Tess’s ears. When she opened her eyes they seemed to be
surrounding her on all sides. Her instinct was to ask
what do you want from
me
? But instead, her eyes locked with one pigeon and the inability to know
this creature—what it was thinking or feeling—overwhelmed her. There were so
many walls in life, too many for any one person to break through. Above, the
flames of the candle torches blew in Michael’s backyard to keep the mosquitoes
away and people mingled and laughed amidst the reggae music that was blasting.
She imagined Michael making his way through the crowd swaying his hips—he loved
reggae music. The pigeons had opened their circle around her, scattering, and
she began to make her way off of the dock and onto the beach. She liked the
sinking sensation under her feet, as if she were moving into the earth with
each step. She walked slowly on the sand back towards the yacht club and her
home and for a moment, she paused. Perhaps it was only right to let Michael
know she was leaving and then she thought the better of it—she didn’t want to
go through the fuss of saying goodbye, the possibility of Michael berating her
for leaving after only a few minutes at his party. She kept going, her eyes on
the coasting waves, skirting them as they rode the shore, as if she were
dancing with them.

The breeze made her
shudder so that she picked up her pace; suddenly she felt eerily alone in the
great big world and wanted to be at home, in her room with the door closed,
under her blanket, small, safe. But where had her desire to be alone, to have
her space, gotten her? She wondered for a moment if it wasn’t herself that she
was trying to get away from. The thought seemed cliché. But maybe there was
some truth to it. After all, hadn’t all of the distances she had created been
unsuccessful in making her feel complete? She wished that she could call up her
mother, only she didn’t know what it was that she wanted, what she needed to
talk to her about. The breeze came at her fiercer now and she stopped in her
tracks for a moment, pinched by the idea that perhaps her mother was there with
her. The sky was a fading electric blue, the clouds moving in from the
distance. It struck Tess as preposterous that she had spent so many years
wishing to be away from her mother when now, more often than not, she sought
her company. How one’s feelings could change. Perhaps, she thought, that’s all
this was, change settling over her, shaping her world anew. She couldn’t
imagine what her mother would say to her, how she would direct Tess, but she
believed she would start by asking her if she was happy. On the good days, yes.
Today, Tess didn’t know. “Happiness is your birthright,” her mother always said.
“It’s yours to have.”

She was moving again, one
foot in front of the other, the sand in her shoes irritating her toes, so that
she bent down and pulled her shoes off, slapping them together so that the sand
trickled out of them as her bare, smooth feet trekked the sand, moist and cool
to the touch. In a few minutes, she would exit the Yacht Club and cross the
street to her home. She anticipated Buddhi waiting for her in the living room
window, watching the world go by from his perch. Her mother, Prakash, Neal,
Michael, Dale. The characters in her life. How she wished she could cradle them
all into her at this moment—if only to feel as if her life was in one place.
Regardless of what she had told herself in the past, she needed people—people
who she loved—which made her wonder if anyone needed her. She slipped on her
shoes to run across 66th street to her home. She fumbled with the lock on the
door. Did anyone need Tess? When she swung the door open, Buddhi dashed to meet
her, his purr reassuring to her as she scooted him out of the way and pushed
the door shut, blocking out the world beyond.