From Comfortable Distances (38 page)

“How was Labor Day?” Dale
asked.

Tess plopped down next to
Dale, who was sitting at a table for two by the window in The Bakery. Dale
pushed one of the large teas in front of Tess.

“I don’t remember when
these holidays started to bring me down. I vaguely remember that I used to look
forward to non-imposing holidays like Memorial Day, July 4
^th
, Labor
Day. Now, they feel like work,” Tess said.

“Non-imposing?”

“Any holiday that doesn’t
involve gifts or family is non-imposing. Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter—those
are the imposing holidays,” Tess said.

“So I take it Labor Day
was a bit labor-some?” Dale said.

“Michael had a birthday
party that included all of my staff,” Tess said.

“Michael is the infamous
ex that was at yoga with you that first night I saw you here?” Dale said.

“That’s him. Ex, business
partner, friend. The party was fine, nothing out of the norm for his parties,
although I couldn’t get out of there fast enough, which makes me feel like
something is wrong with me.”

“Did you take Neal?” Dale
said.

“No,” Tess said. “I
didn’t want to complicate anything with my office folks and all.”

“Are you still chumming
it up with his mom?”

“We walked together a few
more mornings,” Tess said.

“What do you talk about
with her?” Dale asked. Tess shifted in her seat to shield off the sunlight
piercing her eyes.

“She talks to me about
Neal—how he was growing up.”

“Sounds exciting,” Dale
said, and she and Tess laughed.

“It makes me wonder if
she’s ever had anyone to talk to. With her husband having passed away and all.
She seems lonely to me. I had thought she was this hostile monster and I’m
still not sure she won’t snap on me again, but I see her differently now.  Her
life was devoted to her son and her husband and her volunteer work at the
nursing home. Normally I would think what a boring life, and yet I find myself
thinking that she’s altruistic,” Tess said.

“The witch has won you
over,” Dale said.

“I’ve been talking to her
about Prakash and that’s new to me.” Tess pulled her blackberry out of her bag.
They still had 30 minutes until the yoga class time. “We’re okay for time.”

“You don’t mention your
son much,” Dale said.

“When it comes to him, I never
know what to say. He’s one of the great mysteries in my life.”

“I can’t believe you have
a son who’s older than me,” Dale said. “You seem so young.”

“I’m an old lady all
right,” Tess said.

“To me, you’re one of the
sweetest, most caring people I’ve ever met. I’m sure that you’re a great
mother,” Dale said.

Tess leaned in closer to
the table, as if she was about to share a secret.

“Really? You think of me
as sweet and caring?” Tess said.

“Yes,” Dale said. “You’re
the first person I’ve opened up to in a long time.”

“I don’t think anyone has
ever described me as sweet and caring, let alone a good mother,” Tess said.

Outside people moved up
and down the street, all on their way somewhere. When she had moved to
Brooklyn, she had often sat out on the college campus quad watching the
students and professors coming and going and wondered what each of their homes
looked like, how their bedrooms were decorated. The fascination with how people
lived and where had been there in the background for her even then.

“Did you want to be a
mother?” Dale said.

Tess studied Dale. She
was still so young and free from any real mistakes. Her routes were all still
wide open. Would Tess have done anything differently if she were Dale’s age?
She didn’t know if that was up to her or up to higher powers.

“I was petrified of being
a mother. I wasn’t sure I was going to go through with it; it took me a few
weeks to commit.”

“You would have gotten an
abortion?” Dale said.

“I thought about it a
lot,” Tess said. “An abortion was a lot more complicated back then than it is
now. But I thought about it. Of course I’m so grateful I had Prakash.”

“What’s he like?” Dale
said.

 “Prakash is like Kyle in
some ways. I thought that the first time I met Kyle, before he brought you into
the picture. They look alike. Same penetrating eyes and curly hair and
thoughtfulness,” Tess said.

“That explains why you
chose Kyle over me when you met us,” Dale said. She winked.

“You were a brat,” Tess
said. “How I saw it was that you had a guy who wanted to buy you a gorgeous
million dollar brownstone and you didn’t want to leave New York City. You were
ridiculous as far as I was concerned,” Tess said.

Dale raised her eyebrows
and opened her mouth wide before she shook her head.

“Tess Rose, you judged me
without even knowing me.

Very un-yogic!”

They laughed. “When I saw
you at yoga, I thought if that girl likes it, I certainly won’t,” Tess said.

“I take back what I said
about you being sweet and caring. You’re a monster,” Dale said.

“Time changes everything,
right?” Tess said.

“What does Prakash do?”
Dale said.

“He’s an architect.
High-power type. Designs office buildings and condominium complexes. He tries
to convince me to move out to San Francisco. Promises to get me a good deal in
one of his apartment buildings. Like mother like son, I suppose.”

 “Sounds like you two can
go into business one of these days,” Dale said.

“Oh, and he’s a yogi, no
less. He took a teacher trainer program one summer while he was in graduate
school. Of course I panicked that he was either gay or aspiring to be a guru
like my mother.”

“Seems like he turned out
just fine,” Dale said.

“I worry about him
getting married. He’s 32. He still has time, I know, but I think that a mother
always wants to see her child married. As if then they’ll be safe or something.”
Tess laughed. “Of course I couldn’t stay married myself, but maybe that’s just
me. Not to change the subject, but anything new with Kyle?”

“We spent the weekend
together,” Dale said.

“You waited all this time
to tell me ground breaking news? That’s great! Right?” Tess said.

“Yes. Only I still don’t
know what I want to do—if I should marry him, or be on my own.”

“Dale, you know by now
that you can’t make life decisions based on a weekend. You need to just keep
going. The answer will come to you. Sooner or later you’re going to be sure of
what you want. It’s going to be evident,” Tess said.

“What if it’s not?”

“Then the decision may be
made for you,” Tess said.

“I’m beginning to wonder
if that’s what I want—for him to make the decision,” Dale said.

“How’s he doing?” Tess
asked.

“Fine. He seems happy.
He’s joined this basketball league and plays with the guys a few nights a week
and then goes out with them afterwards. He told me he’s busy,” Dale said.

“And you are, too,” Tess
said.

“Now that I don’t have my
work stuff to talk to him about, I feel like a little bit of a loser for not
working. He didn’t make any comments, it was just that he kept talking about
his daily work stuff and I had nothing to offer from my work stuff, obviously, and
I didn’t think he’d care to hear about our yoga stuff,” Dale said.

“It’s not about what you
talk about. If this is the person you want to be with, it’s about how you feel
when you’re with him. Do you feel like you can’t wait to get away from him or
that you want to keep spending time with him?” Tess said.

The knock on the window
glass startled them both: Sara and Kim smiled and waved and then they were
making their way in.

“To be continued,” Tess
said and Dale nodded.

“It’s divorce week!” Sara
said standing in front of the table. “We reached an agreement!”

“You seem festive about
it,” Dale said.

“She was practically
skipping down the street,” Kim said.

“I’m getting a lot of
money. Taking him down,” Sara said.

“How yogic of you,” Tess
said.

Dale choked on the sip of
tea she had just taken so that Kim patted her on the back. Sara pulled up a
chair from an empty neighboring table while Dale made room on her seat for Kim
to sit down.

“I think I’m dropping out
of teacher training,” Kim said.

“What?” Sara said. “You
didn’t mention that on our walk over here.”

“You were too busy going
on about your divorce; I didn’t have a chance to get a word in,” Kim said.

“Why would you drop out
now? We’re more than halfway done,” Tess said.

“Tess, you work all
day—you don’t have to deal with the yoga maniac-women like I do.”

“They are nuts,” Dale
said. “But I’m not in the studio with them all day—I’m out at the high schools
in the afternoons teaching kids yoga – karma hours.”

“They’re just running a
business, Kim. The training is for you,” Tess said.

“Yes, but they’re making
my life hell,” Kim said. “I’m doing menial work for them—folding yoga mats,
cleaning up the studio, answering phones. I have a nanny that takes care of my
housework so that I can go to the studio and do their busywork.”

“Send them your nanny in
your place,” Sara said.

“Very funny,” Kim said.

“Sounds like a good idea,”
Tess said.

“I think we’re all tired
of their rules and regulations,” Dale said. “But Tess is right. This is for
you. At the end of the program, it’s not them you’ll have to deal with, but
yourself.”

“Spoken like a true
therapist,” Sara said.

“They certainly remind me
of why I went into business for myself—so I didn’t have to deal with someone
else barking orders at me,” Tess said.

“You’re not really
dropping out, are you, Kim?” Dale asked.

“I almost did twice this
week,” Kim said.

“And?” said Sara.

“Well, I was all set not
to show up for whatever task they asked me to do, and then I ran into one of
the mentors on the street and next thing you knew I was walking up to the
studio with her.”

“Just tell them you’re
busy during the day. You don’t see Tess or me here. Do what’s right for you,”
Sara said.

“I think I’m going
through a pre-midlife crisis. I guess I don’t know where I need to be, so it’s
easy to blame them for ruining my life,” Kim said.

 “You and I both,” Dale
said.

“We need to get going,”
Tess said.

“Anyone know what’s on
the agenda for today?” Sara asked.

“I think that the
Sanskrit teacher is coming,” Kim said.

“Hours of fun ahead,”
Sara said. “Why they bring in all these teachers at 9 am on Saturday mornings
is beyond me.”

The cool September air
was invigorating. Tess searched her mind—she wasn’t sure what she was happy
about. There was certainly things she could feel bad about right now—work
issues, what she was doing with Neal—and yet at this moment of this day, she
was outside, walking, the sun beginning to shine, the air crisper and cooler
than it had been in some time and she felt light and free and hopeful. Hopeful
of all that was: the day ahead, the time she was allowing herself to spend in
the yoga studio, giving herself the opportunity to grow, to evolve, to
experience different pastures of her life. The girls chatted on. She felt
peaceful in not having to join in. They all had their share of drama to discuss
and analyze. That was in part what living was about. The other part was about
being and feeling. When she climbed up the stairs to the yoga studio, for the
first time in decades she thought of something her mother used to tell her when
she was restless: that just maybe, this was going to be the very best day of
her life.

“Picture meeting you
here,” Neal said when Tess opened the door. She had been in her bedroom, her
backside nestled up to the wall, which held her legs upright, lying on her back
as she read Iyengar’s
Light on Yoga.

She had opened the door
expecting it to be Michael—hadn’t he left her a message saying he was dropping
by, something about bringing her some paperwork to review prior to Monday
morning and grabbing dinner up at the Italian place on Avenue U? She hadn’t
called him back on purpose as after the endless activity and chatter of one of
her final three yoga lock-in weekends, she craved a quiet night. The thought of
making small talk seemed miserable. She had planned to catch up on her reading,
and get a good night’s sleep before the Monday morning work insanity took claim
to her brain.

“Neal,” she said, fixing
her hair, which she realized was doing all sorts of uncooperative things from
static electricity with the carpet. She was still in her black yoga tank and
black leggings, which she and the girls had come to refer to as their uniforms.
She had planned on showering, but somehow didn’t get to it just yet.

“If you’re busy, I’ll go.”

“No,” she said, holding
the screen door open. “I was reading.” She rubbed her eyes, massaging her
cheeks a bit to bring some color into them. “I’m glad to see you.”

“It’s a nice night,” he
said and making no move to walk into her home, Tess stepped out onto the porch.
The coolness of the bricks against her feet sent a chill through her.

“Out for a walk?” Tess
said.

“I came out to see you,”
Neal said. “It’s been a while.”

“It’s nice to see you,”
Tess said.

“I knew you were tied up
all weekend,” he said.

“Yes. Teacher training.
We’re almost done.”

“Would you like to join
me? We could go out to the docks,” he said. He took a flashlight out of his
anorak jacket. “I’m prepared,” he said.

Tess moved beside him
slowly, the sand cold and damp on against her bare feet, a burgundy pashmina
shawl draped around her upper body smooth against her skin. She carried her
loafers in her hand, the glow of Neal’s flashlight illuminating the way so that
they steered clear of any shells or other sharp remnants scattered amidst the
sand. The stars up above shone brightly in the darkened sky; the chilled air
refreshed her after being in her warm bedroom. Neal glanced sideways at her
more than once and she smiled back at him, closing her eyes after each glance
to capture his expression. There was something about his person that drew her
in—a blend of sexy and commanding, so that at any moment, he could have stopped
to kiss her passionately and she would have responded with all her being.  He
had the power to mesmerize her, with his clear and stoic eyes. The insanity of
it all. After all of her failed relationships, no less. She laughed a quiet,
slight laugh.

“What’s so funny?” he
said.

“Nothing,” she said. The
moment he spoke, she missed the silence. There was safety in silence at times,
a sense of being in something together. Words were sometimes an intrusion. And
yet, once he spoke, she felt the need to talk, too—to keep things friendly,
light.

“Did you have a nice
weekend?” Tess asked.

“I ran some. Got lots of
writing done. Baked some cookies,” he said.

“Sounds productive.”

“I thought about you,”
Neal said.

In the near distance
there was a dock; in the dark Tess couldn’t make out right away who the dock
belonged to. Her eyes moved to the shoreline to attach the dock to a house, but
then Neal was moving towards it and she followed, realizing that it didn’t
matter who it belonged to, that they were going to park themselves on it for a
bit and hope the owner didn’t think they were vandals.

“I thought about you,
too,” she said. What she wanted to tell him was that she always thought about
him, but she paused. She didn’t know if he felt the same. He could have changed
over the past week. People did that. Feelings were fragile. Neal was in the
midst of making a decision that would affect his whole life. He was kind. She
didn’t want to obligate him. To make him feel like he had to say what she
wanted to hear.

Their shoulders touched
as they sat on the dock, Tess swinging her feet, so that every now and then she
brushed his leg with the motion. What she wanted to ask him was if he had
reached any new conclusions, but she didn’t have the energy, or maybe it was
the courage, to ask. The limbo that was somehow always between them transformed
her into an insecure, needy Tess—a person she didn’t care for much. And then
she paused, turning to face him. Perhaps it was her limbo. Perhaps he wasn’t as
concerned about it all as she was. Perhaps it was the controlling Tess that needed
to know something, as if knowing would solidify what was between them. But Tess
knew another truth: knowing didn’t always shape things. Sometimes knowing only
lasted until someone changed his mind.

“Kiss me,” she said, and
the moment she said it a shrill delight ran through her. She couldn’t remember
ever asking a man to kiss her, ever letting herself be that vulnerable. She
would have repeated it – I want you to kiss me, but by then his lips were
gently grazing hers and she felt them moving into one another, their lips
enlarging as they encompassed one another and then they were fully entangled.
She let him take control of her, let her passion seep through her and into him,
infusing them. It was a mingling of two minds and hearts, a meshing of lust and
desire, a surrender of sorts, although she couldn’t have said just then what
she was surrendering to him—couldn’t differentiate what was hers and what was
his – and then he was pulling her closer, his hands on her shoulders, pulling
all of her being closer to him and what she felt between them, what was there
was unlike anything else she had ever felt. It was more than lust, more than
desire. It was a tenderness, but there was also a strength, she thought as the
intensity between them, this kiss, grew more powerful. She was a stronger
person when she was intertwined with him like this. It wasn’t a physical
aspect, but a strength of mind, of character. With this kindness, this honor
she felt for him, she was a more powerful person. A better version of Tess. She
thought all of this, and yet wondered if she weren’t somehow more selfish when
she seduced him, or maybe he was seducing her; it was hard to say where one
ended and the other began.

Neal pulled away just
then, so that their eyes took in one another with an intensity that Tess
couldn’t read.

“What?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

She traced the contours
of his cheekbones with her fingertips before they made their way to his lips,
which she outlined and then leaned in close to him, kissing him deliberately
there once and then again. Neal’s pupils enlarged, his eyes intent on hers.

“I like you,” she said,
so that he laughed, a deep, unexpected, boyish laugh. She backed away from him
but he positioned her chin in the wishbone that his thumb and forefinger
created and pulled her face closer to his, their lips almost touching.

“I like you,” he said
before he kissed her gently and then hard, their lips enveloping one another’s,
so that this time she began to giggle.

 “You’re such a beautiful
woman,” he said. “Sometimes I want to devour you.”

She laughed and shook her
head to his quizzical look. “I’m not laughing at you,” she said. She was
laughing at the insanity of them, the unlikeliness of their passion.

He reached for her hand
and cradled it in his lap, tracing each of her fingers, and then his eyes
intently on hers, he brought each of her fingertips to his lips, planting a
soft kiss on each one.

“I miss you when I don’t
see you,” Tess said, a moment of tenderness overcoming her.

“I miss you, too, Tess.”

For an instant, her mind
drifted to the possibility of his leaving, of missing him terminally. But then
her mind told her another story – she had missed herself in many relationships
she had been in – missed the independent Tess who always seemed to adapt her
life for a short while so as not to make another person feel second rate, as if
she was always trying to get away from them. She could not be that person
again. No, she would need to be herself if she was going to be happy in any
relationship. And herself meant that she might make someone else feel bad.  The
redeeming quality of Neal was that he too had his own agenda, his own to do
list each day. She felt relieved and then sad that she might never be his
priority.

“What are you thinking?”
Neal said.

The stars were out in
full bloom. Off in the distance, the headlights of the cars traveling the Belt
Parkway glistened and twinkled, like stars moving across the road. She was
thinking nothing and everything. That she was content sitting here with Neal;
that she may have to give him up; that she had so much work to do before
tomorrow morning; that she wanted to take him home and make love to him; that
she was so tired of drama in her life; that he was worth whatever obstacles
that came up; that she was willing to go the distance for him.

Tess shook her head, her
eyes finding his again. “I’m not thinking,” she said.

He massaged her temples
with a soothing, kneading motion. “I see that mind of yours working,” Neal
said.

“If it’s working, it’s
not consulting with me.”

 “What are you thinking?”
Tess asked.

“Oh, the old switcheroo,”
Neal said, and she laughed.

She shook her head. “No
switcheroo. I can never tell what you’re thinking.”

 “If you could, you would
be physic,” he said. “But remember: I came to see you tonight.”

She smiled. “Should I
assume you wanted me?” she said.

With his forefinger
raised her chin so that their faces were parallel. It was a small gesture, but
something in his sureness, in the masculinity of it, made her insides throb.

He kissed her
deliberately, with abandon, and then he was pulling her up and they were making
their way back, stopping every few moments to take one another in, to share a
kiss. There was a giddiness to their interaction, a knowledge that they were in
it together, that the passion between them was real. If all else faded, this
much Tess would know: the passion between them was real. An intensity of the
sort she felt when they kissed was beyond anything she had ever known in all of
her past relationships.

They put their shoes on
and jogged across the street, her hand in Neal’s as they moved up her driveway
and then up her porch stairs. She knew that she should leave well enough alone,
that she should savor these moments, these feelings, but as she unlocked her door
to let them in, she couldn’t hold herself back.

“Stay the night. Just
this once, wake up with me,” she said, twisting the key in the Segal lock
round, pushing the door open as she removed the key. Her eyes glanced up at him
and he paused before bringing his eyes to hers.

“I know,” she said. “The
cookies.”

“The cookies,” he said,
backing her into the doorway as he kissed her.

“I can make the cookies
with you,” she said. “We can do it together at the crack of dawn,” she said, so
that he laughed his deep belly laugh.

“My dear, I wouldn’t
think of depriving you of a minute of beauty sleep,” he said.

She moved her hand under
his shirt, feeling his flesh, the outline of his belly as she made her way up
to his muscular chest. How she loved his skin, his body. She inhaled the nape
of his neck and kissed him there, making her way up his neck to his chin, which
she tilted down, kissing his lips.

“I just may give you a
reason to stay the night,” she said and they both laughed.

Tess locked the door
behind them. He took her hand and led her up the stairs, stopping to kiss her
at the landing, then backing her through the kitchen, down the hallway, and
into her bedroom, so that she giggled. She couldn’t remember the last time she
had walked backwards this way and it reminded her of how Prakash used to
practice moon walking on the kitchen tile.

“What’s so funny?” Neal
said, peeling off her sweater, caressing her neck before he kissed her there.

“Nothing,” she whispered.

He was lifting off her
shirt and then she was taking off his. All of her wanted him and then they were
on the bed, her side of the bed, and she was wrapped around him and he was
taking her in and their kissing was an energy between them, electric and tender
all at once. The passion she felt for him, with him, was unknown to her; how
could she have lived for so long without knowing this passion, and then she was
free, no longer thinking but feeling, moving with him, because of him. And it
didn’t matter who or what Tess was, all that mattered was that moment, their
union, their love, for what other than love could this feeling of oneness be
called?

Cold. Cold and her throat
dry and raw. She sat up, her eyelids sticking together as she peeled the
mascara off, allowing them to open a bit. She pulled the blankets around her
naked body, which was sideways on her bed, before she plopped back down. She couldn’t
tell if his leaving, the front door closing, was what had woke her up or if he
had been gone for hours. She sat back up and squinted at the clock. 3:30 am. He
had probably been long gone. Or maybe he had overslept and just left. She
sighed and with her hands, she righted herself on the bed so that her head
rested on her pillow. She traced the contours of her body, moving from her
stomach, and up to her breasts. She wondered how she felt to Neal. If he liked
touching her. She could feel his presence all over her.