The Year I Left Page 3

  He pulled a bottle of wine out, laid it on the counter and grabbed another glass. “I’ve done my gig. I’ve made a lot of money. I’m burnt out.”

  I couldn’t stand to discuss this again. Over and over. He didn’t get it.

  “You’re also spending it all,” I spat, but immediately regretted it. I moved toward the dinner table and began to lay out the placemats. Same old thing. Three places for the three of us. There was no way to get out of this cycle. “It’s not the money,” I followed up under my breath.

  “What is it then?” He made no effort to move. I heard the wine swish as he poured more into his glass.

  Thank goodness, Selda shuffled over to start making dinner.

  “Not now,” I said, finding the perfect avoidance and tipping my head toward Selda.

  That’s when Jack darted over, took my hand and led me toward the gigantic leather couch in the living room—custom made by Marioni, no less. For the record, these couches had the exact same marble colored style at Room and Board. We had yet to sit on it for more than a few minutes. That night was no exception.

  Once we were out of Selda’s view, he took me in his arms.

  “Please, Car. I need to know what you want from me. You’ve been so distant lately.”

  I don’t want you in my face every day, every night, every hour.

  I wrapped my arms around his waist. It wasn’t fair, I guess. To bring him down this rabbit hole without a game-plan. “Nothing. I’m sorry. Let’s just forget it, okay? I don’t know what I’m saying. I think I’m just exhausted.”

  “Look at us, arguing about a man we don’t even know.”

  “Seriously!” I forced a laugh.

  “Are you sure we’re okay?”

  I stood on my toes, pulled on his neck and kissed his forehead. “Yes. I’m sure.”

  Chapter Five

  Namaste

  Daily Horoscope: October 1

  Friendship could easily turn into romance if you’re not careful. Overnight, a platonic relationship could turn passionate, and no one is more surprised than you. It is time to think carefully about where you would like this relationship to go. While you can never go back to what was, you can stop the relationship from progressing if you are uncomfortable with the new dynamic. Think hard—only you can make this decision once.

  I was uncomfortable with the new dynamic. One week later and I was still bothered by that conversation with Jack. It had been my chance to tell him something was wrong. But once again, I’d chickened out. Our relationship certainly wasn’t platonic.

  Unless...unless this is referring to someone else.

  You’re kidding. We’re not even friends! He’s smug and condescending and not even that cute. Well, okay, hot is the word, but—

  I can’t believe his face keeps coming up while I’m trying to concentrate.

  I didn’t know why I’d agreed to do Saturday morning yoga sessions with my sister, Trish. First of all, she had a class to teach at 9am, which meant we had to do this bright and early at 7:30. Second, I’d rather be chitchatting with her than trying to stay quiet for an entire hour. She promised it would do me good, she said I needed these times to meditate and clear my head.

  “Carin.”

  There I was, flat on my back, staring at the sky. Right arm crossed over my body, left leg stretched out from underneath me. My cheeks burned. White balls of light danced around my eyes, forcing me to shut them. I tried to coax my mind to empty itself, but it didn’t work.

  What time is it? How much longer until Savasana? I need to send that email out before ten. Should I cancel my morning ride? Did I remember to throw out the old Tupperware? Where did Trish get those yoga pants?

  “Where’d you get those yoga pants?” I blurted. “Are those Lulus?”

  “Carin! Focus!”

  “I can’t! I feel like this is such a waste of time!” I sat up and crossed my right leg over my left.

  “Bring your hands together,” Trish ordered, her gentle voice complementing the soft sound of bells and violins that played in the background. “Circle your thoughts back to your intention.”

  More music. More silence. It felt like forever to hear the words I wanted to. “Light to all, peace to all, love to all. Namaste.”

  “Namaste,” I answered, dipping my head all the way to the ground and immediately raising it back up.

  “Trish,” I said, interrupting her head-dipping process.

  “What is it?” she asked. We sat facing each other, still cross-legged on our mats, surrounded by the big, beautiful outdoors.

  “I just feel weird.”

  “Weird how?” She stretched her legs out until her toes touched mine.

  “Like I’m not in my own head.”

  A ladybug settled right on top of my mat. I leaned down to blow it away. Trish laughed because she knew I could never touch it. Birds, bugs, the unknown—my list of fears could be quite long. I smiled back.

  “Charlie, I know. But both you and Jack agreed this is what’s best for him. He’s a special boy and needs to be in an environment that will help him develop.”

  “I’m glad he’ll be in Ireland with you next summer. This project is just taking all my time and it’s going to ramp up next spring. I want him to have fun with the fam,” I said. She saw the betrayal in my movements. The way I nervously balled my fists and set them on the ground, the smile I tried to paste on my face.

  “Liam will put them to work on the farm.” She laughed.

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s work. I know it is. You haven’t taken any time off to process what’s happened in the last year.”

  “It’s not even that,” I argued. “I want to express the way I feel but it doesn’t feel authentic. I feel robotic, wooden.” I folded my legs and leaned back.

  Daisies, hydrangeas, roses in full bloom lined the flower beds directly below the deck. The first level was all outfitted with a built in-brick grill and an outdoor entertainment center. Save for a fire pit, the second level was quite bare. We’d designed this purposely for our summer exercise sessions—the first level for Jack, the second one for me.

  She sat quietly, watched me fidget. “Never mind. I know I’m not making sense.”

  “Car, we do need to talk. Selda told me the other day that there’s a stack of bills on the floor in your study.”

  “I should fire her. She has no right to tell you that.”

  “I’m your sister!” She raised her voice, but then quickly toned it down. “Who else is she going to tell? She’s worried about you. Said she caught you crying in bed a couple of times. Are you okay? Are you short on funds?”

  I shook my head. Once, twice. “No, no. Not short.”

  “Then what is happening?”

  I had nothing to say to that.

  She tilted her head and kept her eyes on me, waiting for an answer.

  “I—”

  Jack walked out on the deck, holding my cellphone. “Your phone’s been ringing off the hook.”

  “Who is it?” I was grateful for the excuse.

  Just as I walked past Trish, she reached out and gripped my hand. “Please. That can wait.”

  I turned to Jack, told him I’d return the call and sat back down. This time, I leaned into my sister as she wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t stand this home. I can’t stand Jack. Charlie is the only one who keeps me coming home. If I had a choice, I’d travel all week and never come back.”

  “What does Jack say? Have you told him?”

  “No.”

  “Why? You used to be so close,” she said. “Everyone envied your marriage. You used to be happy.”

  “Was I?” I’d been thinking about this to no end for the past few months. “Did I even have time to be happy?”

  “That’s not fair,” she countered while frowning at me. “I’ve been telling you to hire someone for the family business, especially now that Mom’s gone.”

 
“Hiring someone takes time, Trish. There’s a huge learning curve I don’t have time for.”

  “Well, if you cut down on working so much, the time will magically appear.”

  “Ha,” I said with a scowl. And then an afterthought. “Do you think I ever loved Jack?”

  She swatted my shoulder. “What? Of course, you did! I’m your sister. I saw you. You were so happy at your wedding. And when Charlie was born, you had this sense of peace about you. You told me that Jack was your dream come true.”

  “I did say that, didn’t I? Oh god. It seems so long ago.”

  She looked at me with sad eyes, her lips quivering.

  “What’s happening to me?” I asked. “I don’t feel anything for him, for our home, for the life we built together.”

  Trish pulled me close. “You miss Mom. I miss her too. But what happened was beyond our control.”

  I wasn’t quite as accepting. I was angry at the person who had so carelessly run a red light and hit her as she’d crossed the street. She had been at Nordstrom, for heaven’s sake. One minute she was getting fitted for a brand-new Burberry dress and the next, she was gone. I’d run ahead of her to get the bags in the car, and had been walking back to the store when I noticed she wasn’t right behind me. I found her laying in the middle of the street, a small crowd gathered around her while someone banged on her chest, trying to beat the life back into her. She never regained consciousness. And I suppose, in more ways than one, I never regained mine.

  Because I’d spent my life taking care of my mother, her death was the end of all purpose. No one needed me as much as she had. My mother’s death made everything meaningless.

  “I think you need some help processing all that’s happened. And you need to go on, pay your bills, get your life on track.”

  “I have this indescribable sadness.” I sniffed. “There’s nothing good about my life. I’m constantly wishing for something else.”

  “Like what?”

  “Love. I want to fall in love. I want to be loved.”

  “But you are!” She emphasized this by throwing her hands in the air.

  “I’ve lost it, haven’t I?” I forced a smile despite my anguish.

  “You’ve been running at full speed all these years. It’s really time to slow down.” She stroked my head while I leaned on her shoulder. And then she lifted my head with her hands and looked at me, eyes narrowed and stern. “Take your time, you deserve a break. But eventually, you’re going to have to figure it out. You have a husband who’s crazy about you and a kid who’s starting middle school. Charlie misses his grandma too. You need to get it together for him.”

  Didn’t she know? Didn’t she know that if it weren’t for Charlie, I’d be gone by now?

  “I know.”

  Right at that moment, a gentle gust of wind passed through us. I saw Trish’s bangs blow to the side and felt a cold breath on my cheeks. A tiny feather, no bigger than my little finger, landed on Trish’s knee.

  “Did you feel that?” she asked, breathless and excited.

  “Yeah, I did.”

  “It’s Mom,” she said, pinching the feather. “Telling us that things will be okay.”

  Chapter Six

  The Plan

  Trish stuck the feather on my corkboard.

  All weekend long, she watched me like a hawk. It was terribly uneasy, the way she fussed over me and made sure I got some rest. Remnants of the Indian summer allowed us to spend the last of the days outdoors. And since Trish lived only two blocks away, she stayed close the whole time, offering to cook, clean, and tidy up during Selda’s days off.

  “I’ll take care of the dishes. Go to your study and catch up on your bills,” she whispered to me after dinner that one night. I took her up on the offer by sneaking out the back door to look at the stars.

  My relief at being back in the office on Monday was short-lived. I arrived early that morning, only to remember that my assistant, Jane, was out all week on vacation. My calendar was a mess. Immediately, I regretted becoming so dependent on her. When she’d first started, I’d wondered what on earth she would do all day. I liked to manage my own calendar, schedule my own meetings. Once she’d taken over, all memory of ever creating a meeting, let alone a Skype one, had been completely erased. It dawned on me that I couldn’t check on all those missed calls.

  “Carin.” Madden, the CEO’s assistant, popped his head into my office. “What happened to your hand?”

  I laughed before bunching my fingers into a fist. I’d forgotten about it. “Oh, this! Classic. Grabbed a knife wrong tip up from the dishwasher.”

  “Well, you’d better be careful not to injure yourself while sifting through all those papers,” he said, pointing at the door to my office. “And look.” He held up his blue-lined steno pad.

  “What is it?”

  “Jane gave me a list of your favorite lunches. She wants to make sure you eat. I’m going to bring you lunch every day at noon. It’s Prime and Provisions today. Sound okay?”

  “That’s an old list,” I said, waving him off and turning away.

  “That’s because you haven’t been eating for the past year!” he said, his booming voice echoing across the floor. I heaved a deep breath as I walked into my office.

  A pile of papers and post-it notes littered my desk. Stacked neatly on the side were four pink slips with messages.

  They were all from you.

  I matched your call-back number to the missed calls on my phone.

  They were from you too.

  I was miffed. Not only were you arrogant—that day, I also learned that you were persistent.

  I scrolled down to the bottom of my unread emails and began to work myself up.

  Someone knocked on my door, and the interruption was upsetting. I needed those ten minutes before the nine o’clock meeting to catch up.

  I opened my door to find you standing in front of me. You were in black jeans and a leather jacket, and your eyes were lighter than I’d remembered. I’d thought they were dark brown but that morning, they were hazel. You had the biggest smile on your face; you looked rested and content. And extremely unprofessional.

  I was exhausted and unhappy. And compared to you, I felt overdressed in my black and white suit.

  “Mr. Torres,” I stated impatiently. I just wanted to get back to my email.

  “Ca—” You glanced to the side to find Madden giving you the evil eye. He was protective like that. Madden was enamored with Jack. He gravitated to all the handsome husbands at every company party.

  Madden kept his head turned in your direction as he walked away.

  “Mrs. Frost.” You moved away, rotating toward Madden to make sure he heard you. “Tienes—eh. I’m sorry. I mean do you have time for a quick chat?”

  “No, actually I don’t,” I replied curtly, returning to my desk. You followed me in. I continued. “My admin, Jane, is out all week so my calendar is a bit messed up. But when she gets back next week, she can pencil you in.”

  “I called you all weekend.”

  I feigned ignorance. “What is it I can do for you? I have five minutes but maybe I can help.”

  “I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” you said, before catching yourself. “I mean, I was excited to meet with you and present to you my growth plan for 2016.”

  “New guy trying to prove himself. I get it. Set some time up through Jane and we’ll review it.”

  “I was thinking you’d want to hear it first but if you’re too busy, I can present it to the board without you. It’s ready to go. I prepared the deck over the weekend.”

  “Wait, what?” I sneered, displeased by the arrogance. “How can you possibly have one? Who has explained our business strategy to you?”

  “I don’t care what it currently is. I know what it should be.”

  At that time, I wasn’t sure whether you recognized it. The power move. In retrospect, I should have known that you’d seen it all.

  Arms crossed, I moved from
the doorway back to the conference table in the middle of the room and sat. “Tell me.”

  You followed my lead, pulled the chair next to me and slid forward so that our knees touched.

  I slid back and reached for my phone. “Hold on.” You watched as I typed in a number and pressed the speaker button. “Hi Mad, would you mind pushing my nine o’clock back thirty minutes and have the rest of the day follow? I’m okay to stay until seven tonight.”

  I placed the phone face-down next to me. “You have thirty minutes. Pitch it.”

  You moved toward me again. I placed my good hand up, palm almost in your face. “I can see from here, thank you.”

  Your presence unsettled me. The way you addressed me with your eyes was something we didn’t do in the business world. I could glance anywhere in the room and still come home to those eyes. They found mine every single time. I kept thinking it was a cultural thing. You know, like when Val said I needed to make eye contact when clicking glasses and saying “cheers”.

  You cleared your throat. “Okay. Everyone in the industry thinks you’re slow to expand. That you’ve been too squeamish about taking chances.”

  “Hmm.” I’d heard this assessment from my Board of Directors. But like them, you had no idea how difficult it had been to build this much capital. I didn’t want to let it go when the market was still in flux.

  You continued, “There are different ways to raise capital without tapping into your own resources. I’m here to build a strategy and then find you the means of financing it.”

  “So your strategy is what? Expansion?”

  “Pretty much.”

  I wondered whether you knew just how attractive you were. I bet you did. I bet you’d used it many times to your advantage. Your deep-set eyes and your super thick eyebrows, all in perfect symmetry with your cheeks, your lips. I willed myself to concentrate on your words, but for a moment, that was all I saw.

  “That’s not rocket science. I just didn’t have the bandwidth to explore, given the resignations I’ve had.”

  And then I softened. I needed to trust my advisers. And I did. Even if one of them was you. “I’m interested in hearing more about it.”