Coming Home To You. Liesel Schmidt
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trying to get a read on me.
“Ray says he has a buddy who’s going to be out of the country for the next nine months and needs a house-sitter while he’s away.” Her eyes widened with excitement. “Isn’t that interesting?” she prompted.
Apparently, it was much more interesting to her than it was to me. Or I was just completely missing something here. How on earth was this relevant to me?
She continued, looking intently at me for some sign of comprehension. She was going to be sorely disappointed, though, because I wasn’t getting it even enough to fake that I was getting it.
“You know—take care of the place, live there with only utilities to pay. Of course, his stuff will basically all still be there. The whole point of this is that he doesn’t want to have to deal with the hassle of renters, but he also doesn’t want to have to worry about the house sitting vacant for so long.”
I was still looking at her quite blankly.
Clearly, I must still be missing something.
Ray apparently picked up on my confusion and took pity on me. He stroked his closely clipped, chestnut-colored beard and leaned conspiratorially close.
“I think she thinks you should consider doing him a favor and taking the worry of the house off his hands,” he whispered loudly.
I raised an eyebrow and looked from Ray to Kate and back again to Ray.
“You two are both nuts,” I said, shaking my head in disbelief. “Insane. This guy’s never met me. How would me being in his house be ‘doing him a favor?’” I asked, making air quotes with my fingers.
Ray straightened and pulled his most serious face. It was almost comical.
“Neil and I have been friends since we were ten, and he takes my opinion of people very seriously. If I told him I found someone I thought would be a perfect person to have staying in his house, believe me—he wouldn’t think twice about letting you stay there. He’s got plenty of other worries right now just trying to get all of his stuff together to go. Taking this off his shoulders would be a big relief to him.” He smiled at me. “Besides, then I’d be able to keep a closer eye on you after Kate here leaves to go live up in Hot-lanta.”
I turned to Kate and gave her my best withering look.
“What’s this, you know him for five minutes and already you’ve got him brainwashed to be on your side?”
My death stare moved to Ray.
“What happened to loyalty?” I asked, feigning disgust and shaking my head.
I felt inexplicably as if I might be staring in the face of an unexpected opportunity, and there was an undercurrent of excitement running through me. But it had been so long since I’d felt anything of the sort that it was almost a foreign sensation.
Unidentifiable, confusing.
A little bit scary, even.
Ray shot me a wounded look.
“I am loyal to a fault. To. A. Fault,” he said solemnly. “In fact, Loyalty is my middle name. I just happen to think that Kate here is absolutely right, and you need to move.”
His head moved up and down in a slow nod, his dark hair flopping into his eyes.
Kate shot me a See? look, to which I responded with another cocked-eyebrow scowl.
I couldn’t take this anymore. I needed to get out of there, away from the pressure I suddenly felt piling on me. I knew they both meant well, knew that both of them only wanted the best for me. But I also knew that Kate was trying to rush me into doing something I didn’t feel ready for, that Ray didn’t have nearly all the pieces of the puzzle.
He didn’t know why I came in so often looking as though I was in mourning.
He’d never asked, and I’d never told him.
I couldn’t bear the thought of having his pity.
“I—” I started, feeling my chest tighten as though someone was sitting on it.
And then I walked out, away from the smell of coffee and the suffocating feeling that I was having my last shred of control taken away from me.
It’s amazing how quickly fear can turn a glimmer of hope into the headlights of an oncoming train.
It was time.
It was time, and I could do this.
I was doing this.
Millions of people all over the world did this every day without giving it a second thought, yet here I was—paralyzed.
I was standing in line at the movie theater, alone.
All alone.
In a long, snake-like line of people that seemed to have no end.
Alone.
In line to buy a single ticket to sit alone in a darkened theater full of people who didn’t give me a thought.
All alone.
Did I really want to do this?
No, Zoë, you don’t. But you also don’t want to have to spend the rest of your life without ever going to see a movie in the theater. It wasn’t fair to put those kinds of restrictions on my life. After all, there was no guarantee.
No guarantee that I would find a friend to go with me. No guarantee that I would ever have someone—my someone—to sit with me through a movie, holding my hand or draping an arm cozily around my shoulders.
So it was time to do this, to take the step and get it over with. To acknowledge all the grown-up facts of life: life goes on, and this was simply a movie. Nothing to be afraid of.
Right?
“Please tell me you have a box of Goobers in that gigantic purse of yours, or I’m going to have to conclude that you are a complete theater novice.” There was a familiar voice behind me, so startling that at first I couldn’t place the speaker. I felt a rush of relief that warmed me almost to my toes, an unexpected surge of emotion that tickled my nose with tears. An uncontrollable grin broke my focused scowl, and I turned around to face Ray.
Ray, my unexpected savior. There was absolutely nothing even remotely romantic between us, but at that moment, I could have kissed him. The simple sight of him made me want to clap my hands in childish glee.
“What are you doing here?”
I realized the pitch of my voice was borderline squeal, but I couldn’t help it. My relief was indescribable; and grown-up, composed Zoë did a swan dive right off the top of the theater marquee into the kiddie pool. If I didn’t watch it, I might actually grab his hands and start jumping up and down like a sugared-up tween at a boy band concert.
Not exactly the image I wanted to portray. I realized far too late that my reaction to seeing him here, at the theater, was illogical. It was probably a one-in-a-million shot that we had chosen the same movie, so our encounter was not only chance, but very likely only fleeting.
Maybe he was meeting a date.
“I had the evening off, so I thought I’d try to catch a movie.” He paused and flicked a glance at the movie schedule posted in the box office window behind me. “Not really sure what’s playing; but I live close-by, so I figured I’d run by and see. And lo and behold,” Ray finished with a smile.
“Serendipity,” I said, blushing with pleasure.
“Ooh, breaking out the big words,” he laughed, shifting his gaze from my face to sweep the crowd around us.
“Are you meeting someone here? Is Kate with you?” His voice was utterly