December 8, 2010
Red and white flowers piled high in mercury glass. Soft classical music playing. Champagne flutes moving on silver trays so smoothly that they seemed to be floating.
The whole evening seemed to Betty to be only a hazy dream until the moment Daniel walked in the door.
He wore an evening suit with a silk tie in the same shade of purple he'd always favored. His hair was a little longer, and he'd regrown the beard, though in a far better-groomed way than before. A girl was on his arm – not some anorexic bimbo, but a tall, sophisticated looking woman with a pixie haircut and an ivory sheath dress that Betty had envied in Harrods.
And glasses. His girlfriend wore glasses. Why did that hurt?
But when Daniel saw her, he smiled – so broadly and so sincerely that she couldn't help smiling back. As he started making his way toward her, she took a quick gulp of her champagne and walked toward him in turn.
"Betty," he said. "You look amazing."
"You do too." Which was an understatement; Daniel had never looked more handsome to her. Maybe that was because he wasn't just hot any longer: A truly earned pride shone from him. His smile wasn't boyish; he was a man now – the man she'd always wanted him to be. "I'm so glad you came tonight."
"This is exactly the kind of cause the Calloway Foundation wants to be involved with – but even if it weren't, I would've wanted to see you. It's overdue, I know." Daniel turned to the woman on his arm and said, "Betty, this is Yuriko Hishimi. Yuriko, this is Betty Suarez, the editor of THAMES. Impossible as it must be to believe, she used to be my assistant. Trust me, it would've been more appropriate if I'd been assisting her."
"It's so nice to meet you, Yuriko," Betty managed to say. "What do you do?"
"I play violin in the LSO. Teach a little on the side." Yuriko's laugh was bashful. "So it's half glamorous black dresses and brilliant compositions, half dealing with sullen little kids who refuse to practice. But there's no substitute for doing what you love, is there? Daniel tells me this job is basically your dream come true."
"It is." Though there had been so much more to dream for. Why had her imagination fallen so short when it came to Daniel? Here he was, not only successful, mature and happy, but also, apparently, partnered with someone worth knowing.
"THAMES is terrific, by the way," Yuriko said. "I subscribed after the first issue – and yes, you can check the records to see!"
"Thanks so much; that's great to hear." Damn it, she was going to have to like her.
Daniel put his free hand on her shoulder – just a brief touch, but Betty felt it as she'd never felt it before, like a jolt of electricity going through her, warming her from the inside out. "I know you need to circulate at this thing, but … catch up with me later on, okay? I'd love to hear how you're doing."
"Absolutely," Betty said, hoping they wouldn't see one another the rest of the night. Maybe ever.
The evening went beautifully, at least from a hostess' point of view. The speakers kept it brief, the drinks and food flowed smoothly, the media presence was solid and the donations were generous.
From a woman's point of view, it was torture. Knowing Daniel was here – was with someone, not just a girl but somebody who seemed to deserve him – it was like being confronted with every single mistake she'd ever made, one after the other. Turning Daniel down was only one of those mistakes, but at this moment, it seemed to stand for them all. Up to and including that time she'd farted loudly in sixth-grade gym class.
Later in the party, as things settled somewhat, Betty had a few seconds to herself. She made her way to the outskirts of the gathering where she wouldn't have to wear a public smile. Though her curiosity made her want to look for Daniel and Yuriko, she managed not to. Instead she drank some icewater and closed her eyes.
"There you are," Daniel said softly.
Betty turned to see him standing only a couple of feet away. She was acutely aware of the low neckline of her strapless navy dress, of the way the heels she wore made her tall enough that kissing him wouldn't have been impossible. No, the impossibility had been all her own doing.
He looked worried as he added, "Like I said – I realize I should've been in touch before now. But I wanted to be sure we'd be all right, you know?"
"I get it." He wanted to be absolutely sure he was 100% over her. Oh happy day. "Are you enjoying yourself?"
"I'm – working the room. But as that goes, it's okay. The event is beautiful, Betty; you've outdone yourself. Guess there really isn't anything you can't accomplish."
His voice was so warm, his gaze so gentle. She had to stay focused. "Is Yuriko having fun?"
"Oh, yeah. Turns out one of her former classmates at Trinity College is playing with the musicians here – she's saying hi." He pointed toward the musicians, where one of the violinists was taking a break to talk with Yuriko while the others played the "Cherry Tree Carol."
"Great," Betty said. "That's great."
"You've become everything you ever wanted to be." Daniel looked down at his champagne flute, almost rueful, before smiling at her again. "It's been amazing watching you turn into the toast of London. Even watching from a distance."
"It's been amazing watching you too. I'm so glad you've finally found the life you really wanted." And that much, at least, was totally true.
"Thanks." He took a deep breath. "Listen, I realize we parted on, uh, awkward terms. But we're both here in London, and I'd like it if we could try to – rebuild some bridges, you know? We were such good friends before I messed it up, and … I miss you. I mean, I've got a girlfriend now, and Yuriko and I are really solid, so you don't have to worry about me – getting confused, anything like that. If we could just hang out again once in a while, like we used to when we got away from the office, that would mean the world to me."
How could she say no to that? His hope was so tangible, so humble. And didn't she want that too, down deep? If Daniel could get over his romantic disappointment, she ought to be able to get over hers. "We should. Hang out, I mean. I've missed you too."
"Yeah? Okay. Okay, that's good." Daniel didn't seem to know what to say next; he must have thought she'd say no. "Are you – when are you heading home for Christmas?"
"Not until the 22nd." The ticket had been difficult for her to afford, but Hilda and Bobby had chipped in as part of her gift. "And coming back on the 26th. What about you?"
Daniel hesitated. "I'm not sure whether I'm going."
"Really? Are your mom and Alexis coming to London?"
"I thought maybe I should spend some time here."
With Yuriko, he meant, and the thought lacerated Betty's heart. But was there more to it, too? "Is everything okay?"
"Well – Mom's kind of on this kick. She wants us to 'confront the past' and talk about all our old Christmases, which I'd really rather avoid, you know?"
Betty well knew how terrible some of the Meade family Christmases had been, back when his mother was drinking and his father was relentlessly unfaithful. She also knew how scarring that had been for young Daniel, and how resolutely he tried to put that in the past. "It would be hard, but maybe she has the right idea. You guys could finally clear the air."
"She beats herself up about it. I can't stand watching her do that." His jaw clenched, and she could see both his bitter memories and his desperate love for his mother. "Why can't she let it go?"
"I think she's trying to. But for her, that might mean talking it through." Old habits made her want to reach out and touch him, but that distance between them wasn't yet bridged. "If you're not ready, just tell her. Think about making yourself ready. Let her know where you are with it."
Slowly, Daniel nodded. He gave her a sidelong look, a wistful smile on his face. "I thought I knew how much I'd missed you, but I was wrong."
Betty felt warmth flush through her, heating her cheeks, making words bubble up inside her no matter how badly they should remain unspoken. "I'm always here for you, Daniel. Always will be."
"Same here." The moment hung between them, heavy with meaning, until Daniel shook it off with an obvious attempt at cheer. "Hey, I'm having a Christmas party. My place. Sunday night. Nothing crazy, just a wine and cheese type thing. Are you free?"
"Sunday. Definitely. Email me the details." She wasn't concentrating on what she'd just promised to; she could only see Yuriko, lovely and grinning, walking back toward them. Correction: Toward Daniel. Her boyfriend.
"Will do." As if he sensed Yuriko's approach, he glanced over his shoulder and grinned at his date before turning back to Betty. "See you then, all right?"
"All right."
That was their only farewell. Daniel turned and walked away from her, toward Yuriko, toward the new, better life he'd made for himself. The one he'd made without her.
She managed to get through the rest of that night well enough, mostly because of her post-party exhaustion and the many details she had to handle – which kept her on-site until almost midnight. Thursday and Friday were okay too, because the next issue of THAMES was headed toward close and her work filled every second of very long days. Both evenings, she got home after ten and crawled into bed almost immediately.
Saturday, though – Saturday was empty. And it felt even emptier when she woke up to see an email from Daniel, reminding her of the party the next evening and explaining how to get to his place.
Betty shut off the computer, put on her fleece and went out for a brisk walk. The day was cold, but the walk would heat her, and her headphones could double as earmuffs. She hoped the exercise would tire her out. Make her exhausted all over again. That way, she wouldn't keep beating herself up about Daniel; that way, she'd be able to come up with a plan for getting through the party and acting all nicey-nice to his girlfriend, and -
Listen to yourself, she thought. You liked Yuriko. And you should be excited that your friendship with Daniel has another chance.
At this point, her iPod's Christmas mix shuffled out one of her favorite songs – Joni Mitchell's "River." The words hit her as they never had before:
It's coming on Christmas
They're cutting down trees
They're putting up reindeer
And singing songs of joy and peace
Oh I wish I had a river I could skate away on
But it don't snow here
It stays pretty green
I'm going to make a lot of money
Then I'm going to quit this crazy scene
Oh I wish I had a river I could skate away on
I wish I had a river so long
I would teach my feet to fly
I wish I had a river I could skate away on
I made my baby cry
He tried hard to help me
You know, he put me at ease
And he loved me so naughty
Made me weak in the knees
Oh, I wish I had a river I could skate away on
I'm so hard to handle
I'm selfish and I'm sad
Now I've gone and lost the best baby
That I ever had
I wish I had a river I could skate away on
Oh, I wish I had a river so long
I would teach my feet to fly
I wish I had a river
I could skate away on
I made my baby say goodbye
It killed her. It just – killed her.
Betty pulled off the headphones, sank onto the nearest bench and felt hot tears filling her eyes. Her throat ached from holding back the sobs.
Why didn't I give him a chance? Betty thought. But she knew, down deep, that Daniel wasn't the one she hadn't given enough credit to. Betty hadn't been scared of him failing her; she'd been scared of failing herself. Of not charging headlong into her new life if she had someone from her past to fall back on all the time. Which now seemed crazy.
The regret only hurt more now that she knew why she'd done it – and that it hadn't had a damn thing to do with Christina or Hilda, who had meant well but trusted her judgment. They'd just been the people whose words she'd used as an excuse for her own fear. Worst of all, Daniel would always think she hadn't believed in him. She wondered if, down deep, he took some satisfaction in proving her wrong. But no. He wasn't that petty anymore.
Not only had he grown up – he might have outgrown her.
No, she couldn't go to Daniel's party tomorrow night. The only way to do that was for her to be fake about her own feelings – which wouldn't bring back their friendship, only a sham of it. In the end, that would hurt them as much as anything else. Their friendship couldn't revive while her heart was still broken. Daniel had healed faster, but maybe it was always worse when you were the one who'd broken your own heart.
Betty knew she had to walk away from Daniel again, for good this time. Now, however, she would be brave enough to tell him the truth about why.
Brave or not, it took her until after dinnertime to steel herself. Probably Daniel would be out – unless, maybe Yuriko had a concert that night, in which case maybe he was free – but the main thing was to make the call, Betty told herself. Once he'd seen that she'd phoned him, he would either call back or text eventually. In other words, taking the first step toward this conversation made it inevitable. No more backing out.
So she scrolled through her phone contacts to the London number he'd given her at that first wonderful dinner – the one where his presence was so new that she couldn't feel anything but hope – and called it for the first time in months.
He picked up on the first ring. "Betty! Hi!"
"Hi there!" Oh, great. She'd had the voicemail message all planned in her head, hoping she'd have a little longer to come up with the actual conversation. "Where are you?"
"At home, getting ready for tomorrow night. Once you stop relying on caterers, it turns out parties are a lot of work. Who knew?"
Betty couldn't help laughing. "You could still hire a bartender, you know."
"24 hours' notice during the holiday season? I doubt it. That's okay, though. It's just going to be a couple dozen of us."
No putting it off any longer. "Actually, Daniel – I'm not going to be able to make it."
"Oh." Just that one syllable revealed how hurt he felt, but obviously Daniel wanted to put on a brave face. "Okay, well, yeah, stuff comes up this time of year. But let's try to get together … maybe after New Year's – "
"Daniel, I'm sorry. I can't."
She heard his sigh – not one of exasperation, but one that sounded nearly as upset as she felt. "If you're afraid I'm going to – bother you again, try to change things between us, I swear, I'm not. Just friends, Betty. I mean it."
He was trying to make things better, and instead it was only getting worse. "That's the whole problem."
"Wait – Betty, what -?"
"I can't be around you right now. We were never in the same place at the same time, Daniel." Taking a deep breath, she plunged ahead. "When you wanted more, I didn't. And now that I've come to want more, you've moved on. It sucks, and it's my fault – but basically, I'm where you were in April, and I need as much time as you needed, so I can't come to the Christmas party. I just can't. Please don't ask me to."
A long silence followed, until Daniel quietly said, "Wait. Back up. You want more?"
"You're too good to rub my face in it, I know." Betty used the sleeve of her bathrobe to wipe at her cheeks. "And I'm glad for you. Seriously. Yuriko seems like she's awesome. You deserve to be happy. Someday, hopefully, we can all go out and – "
"Wait, wait, wait." His voice had changed, taking on a kind of tension that seemed poised between happiness and fear. "Yuriko – yeah, she's awesome, but – I met her three weeks ago."
"… three weeks? But – but you said she was your girlfriend! That you guys were solid."
"I was – okay, I was lying. Just trying to put you at ease about the whole unrequited thing. I shouldn't have done it, I know that, it was a total 'old Daniel' move, but – can we get back to the part where you want more?"
He'd been lying. Daniel was mature, strong and together but still, deep down, a doof. Who knew she needed so badly to hear that Daniel was still a little bit of a doof? And he sounded so excited – Betty's heart started to pound faster as her dark mood let in one single shaft of hope.
Was it possible? Could she maybe not be too late after all?