Part 7 (2/2)
”So I'm perfectly happy for the chance to have a little cultcha.”
The lights flashed and we headed back to our seats. Two friends, out for a casual evening of Mahler.
How fitting the symphony opened with a funeral march. I was dying inside. How could I have thought this was date? Exciting people like Mari don't date boring people like me.
Though I was painfully distracted by her crus.h.i.+ng denial of our budding romance, I refused to let it dampen the thrill of an absolutely rapturous ”Adagietto.”As corny as it sounds, I actually felt tears stinging my eyes. The final movement, an uplifting rondo, gave me time to pull myself together.
When the concert ended I leapt to my feet and joined half the audience in thunderous applause. The other half-in one of the most detestable of Miami traditions-broke for the doors to beat the crowd. From the way Mari s.n.a.t.c.hed up her purse and stepped into the aisle, it was clear she wanted to do the same thing but I wasn't going to let her get away with it.
”Mari, that was breathtaking.”
”Very nice,” she answered, smiling politely but still clearly eager to leave.
”Very nice? That's all you've got? You can't call something like that very nice.” I lowered my voice to make it sound like hers but it came out more like a voice-over for a cemetery commercial. ”It was exquisite.”
”Exquisite! That's the word I wanted. I've never been so moved by a movement.”
I turned away from her and continued to applaud, determined now to be the last one cheering. She eventually got the message, dropping her purse in her chair so she could clap along.
”I'm sorry if I rushed you,” she said when I finally acquiesced to leave. ”I should have realized you'd want to stay.”
”It was so beautiful, Mari. I just hate to see people run out without giving the musicians their due. People in Miami always do that and it makes me feel embarra.s.sed.”
”You're right, absolutely right.”
Here she was charming me again, all the more reason to be sorry this wasn't a date.
We followed the crowd onto the plaza at Biscayne Boulevard, where I braced myself for that awkward end-of-the-evening moment where Mari would blurt out a few pleasantries before kissing me on the cheek and walking off to hook up with one of her other ”friends” for something more to her liking.
”Look, Mari...I know this wasn't your thing, but honestly, it was a night I won't forget for a long time. I'm really glad you thought of me.”
”Too bad I didn't know about it sooner. We could have grabbed dinner or something. There are some nice restaurants not far from here in Wynwood.”
Oh, that would have been precious-walking into WKB with Mari and tossing a friendly wave over to Emily. ”Maybe there'll be another time, except now I owe you and I have no idea what you like.”
”Monster truck rallies.”
”That...would not have been...my guess.” How could someone so cosmopolitan and-”You're lying through your teeth!”
”But I had you going for a second there, didn't I?”
”You're lucky there's a limit to my gullibility. If I'd surprised you with tickets, you would've had to go with me.”
”And sit there to the bitter end.”
”Until the very last car was pancaked.” I like her a lot. I even like her as a friend, though I couldn't see myself fitting in with her South Beach party crowd. But I could sure handle being part of her rotation when she was looking for something a little different. It wouldn't hurt me to have someone around to keep me from taking myself so seriously. ”What if we just do the dinner we missed tonight?”
”Works for me. You have my number now, right?”
I nodded, remembering I'd captured it on my cell phone.
”Thanks for meeting me. It was fun.” She kissed me on the cheek again, and I caught her arm as she started to step away.
All that cheek kissing was nice but what I really wanted was a hug, and I didn't give her a chance to turn me down.
Chapter Nine.
Marvin the cat makes me a nervous wreck every time Edith or Mordy open the sliding gla.s.s door. I have visions of him lunging for a bird or mosquito and plummeting fifteen floors, but Mordy always says he's far too lazy to jump as high as the railing on the balcony, let alone chase something. It's true I'd never seen him even run across the floor. I guess he's satisfied to have Edith do all the hunting and fis.h.i.+ng for him, as long as he never misses a meal.
”She's changed her hair,” Edith said, making a face that gave away what she thought of Emily's new 'do. ”But it's not the same length on both sides. I don't think I could hold my head up straight if my hair was long on one side and short on the other.”
Mordy chortled. ”Should have left her hair the way it was and changed her personality instead.”
Edith rolled up her magazine and smacked him. ”Did no one ever teach you to keep your mouth shut if you couldn't say something nice?”
”There's nothing nice to say. She's a sc.u.mbag who walked all over Daphne and now she comes sniffing around because she got dumped on her a.s.s.”
Edith closed the sliding gla.s.s door and began lighting the candles throughout the living room in antic.i.p.ation of nightfall, since it was Friday and they wouldn't turn on their lights again until tomorrow evening. ”And what if they get back together someday, Mordy? Did you think about that? How's Daphne going to feel to know you think the person she loves is a sc.u.mbag?”
”Daphne isn't going to get back together with her. Emily's a whack job.”
”h.e.l.lo, everyone. I'm sitting right here. I can talk for myself.” Although Mordy had done a pretty good job of summing things up. Emily lacked the one thing I value most in a person-integrity-and that was a deal breaker. But instead of running away from her as fast as I could, I was still drawn to her latest drama like a rubbernecker driving past an upside-down beer truck.
My night out with Mari had been loads of fun, but not the ride back down to earth after she'd made it clear we were just friends. With that being a dead end, I found myself back to entertaining Emily's renewed interest.
”My date last night sort of fizzled.” I shared my humiliation over discovering it wasn't a date after all, but to save face with Mordy and Edith, I finished the morbid tale by saying I was still glad I went because Mahler was fantastic and Mari could turn out to be a friend. All that was true, as was the fact I wasn't ready to see Emily again just yet anyway. ”I'm not going to put myself at her beck and call just because she happens to be in town. If she wants to see me, she can go out of her way a little bit.”
”But you're open to seeing her again?” Edith asked.
It seemed Edith was cheerleading for our reconciliation, but I couldn't figure out why. Like Mordy, she knew all the sordid details about Emily's infidelities and mortgage arrears, but somehow came to a different conclusion. ”What do you think I should do?”
”Tell her to take a hike,” Mordy said.
”She asked me.” She smacked him again, but gently. ”I'm not saying this is what you should do, but I don't think you're happy by yourself, Daphne. A woman like you-young, pretty, full of life-shouldn't be spending so many nights at home alone. It's a waste. You and Emily used to go out all the time, but even when you stayed home, the two of you had fun. We could hear you talking and laughing on the balcony every night, and your lives just seemed so full. If there's a chance you can get that back, don't you think it's worth a try?”
I'd been thinking a lot about those good times. People always talk about nostalgia like it's something dreamy and warm. I never see it that way, at least not where Emily is concerned. I ache when I think of our best days, but not for yearning. I ache because I wonder if they were ever real, if Emily had felt love for me the way I had for her. I'd always thought so, at least right up until the end when she told me I'd been living in a false security for months, that she'd been thinking about leaving but didn't want to say anything until she was sure. Until she lined up her next move was more like it. How could I not have noticed that?
So the biggest hurdle for Emily and me getting back together isn't forgiveness. It's trust. If she could lead me on for months without me knowing, how could I believe anything she said or did?
”Tell her to take a hike,” Mordy said again. ”She's desperate now because she got dumped. You're not desperate. You can do better.”
”I'm really glad we've had this little talk. Things are so much clearer now.”
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