Unlucky in Love
Chapter 5For a while, things were the way they used to be. They were excited to be together and spent all their spare time with each other. They went ring shopping and found a beautiful little solitaire engagement ring. It wasn't a big diamond, but Connie didn't seem to mind. She loved it, and the first thing they did was stop by Chow Ling's and show it to the owner.
They discussed a spring wedding, and whether they should move to a bigger apartment than either of them had. They talked about moving in together before they got married to try and save money; that idea was finally discarded because it didn't seem proper. They wanted to get a pet, but couldn't decide on a cat or a dog. "That's alright, sweetheart, when we have a bigger place we'll get one of each," he told her, and they agreed to wait.
He worked harder than ever, spending more and more time at the little office trying to drum up business. It began to pay off, but that was a two-edged sword. More business meant longer hours, and longer hours meant he and Connie saw less of each other. Even when they weren't working.
He tried calling her at lunch because he longed to hear her voice, and missed going on their walks together. More often than not he was told she was already at lunch. It didn't matter what time he called. When he did get to see her she was distant, distracted; her body was with him with but it seemed her heart was elsewhere.
One Thursday evening Connie was working late, so he went to Chow Ling's by himself. As always, Chow Ling greeted him like an old friend. They exchanged a few words in Mandarin while he showed Stu to a table, and as the owner handed him his menu he was asked a strange question. "Your lady have a brother?"
"A brother? No, not that I know of. Why do you ask that?"
"Never mind. None of my business anyway." The old man started to walk away from the table, but Stuart stopped him.
"Please, tell me why you asked if she had a brother." Stu was almost afraid to hear the answer to the question.
"She come in at lunch today with another man. Tall, dark hair, looked like her. They were laughing and talking, acted like they'd known each other their whole lives. You sure she no have a brother?"
Stu was suddenly sick to his stomach. He had to get out of here; he looked at his watch and abruptly stood up. "I'm sorry, Chow Ling, it's later than I thought. I have a meeting and I have to go. I'll come back this weekend." He hurried out of the restaurant and got halfway down the block before his insides decided to make a hasty exit. When he was through he wiped his mouth on his handkerchief and finished the walk home. Chow Ling had to be wrong. He just had to be. And a little voice in the back of his head asked does he?
When he got home he changed clothes and called Connie. The phone rang and rang and rang. She's at work. She has to be. He waited until an hour after Macy's was closed and tried her number again with the same result. There was no reason for her not to be home. She hadn't said anything to him about going out of town or working late. He was scared to death he knew why she wasn't home, but his mind was still making excuses for her. She forgot to tell me. She was asked to stay late at the last minute. She was in an accident of some kind. Everything came back to why didn't she call me if she had a valid excuse for not being home?
He got undressed and changed into his pajamas. He laid down on the bed and tried to go to sleep, but it was no use. Then he got up and attempted to read a book, but that effort was just as futile. Finally he got dressed again, then walked the three blocks to Connie's building. There were no lights on in her apartment so he sat on the stoop to wait for her. One o'clock. Two o'clock. Three o'clock. At half-past three he saw her, almost a block away, weaving slightly and bumping into the man next to her constantly. The tall, dark-haired man. Stuart got up quickly and rushed around the back of the building; he had no intention of being seen.
At four o'clock in the morning he walked home.
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At eight o'clock he showered and shaved, dressing in his best black suit. He noticed it was getting a little frayed around the edges . . . he was going to have to buy a new one, whether he wanted to spend the money or not. While he was getting ready to go to the office, his mind kept straying to Connie and what he'd seen the night before. He had a business meeting at ten o'clock; when he was finished with that he would go to Macy's to see her. He had convinced himself she would explain last night and everything would be fine.
The meeting with a new client took only a few minutes; another errant spouse needed tracking down. As soon as the abandoned wife left he wanted to pick up the phone and call Connie, but he refrained. It was important he see her in person; hold her hand and look into her eyes. It had been a long time since he'd felt her love.
He walked downtown to the park, where he'd first seen her, and felt the same feelings he'd felt then. He hurried over to Macy's and looked in the glass doors, hoping to she would be in that old familiar place once more. He couldn't believe his good fortune when he spotted her where they'd met on that fateful day, behind the perfume counter. He opened the doors and went inside; this time there was no one at the counter but her.
"Hello, Connie."
She'd seen him coming yet she still seemed startled. "Stuart! What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to see my girl. What else?"
"I . . . I . . .it's the middle of the day." She was nervous, as if something was about to happen that she didn't want to have happen.
"We've both been so busy, I wanted to come by and take you to lunch. You do still get lunch, don't you?"
"Of course I do. I just didn't expect you." She checked her watch. "I can go in five minutes. Meet you outside?"
"Sure."
He remembered how nervous he was that first day. He'd come outside to smoke a cigarette and calm his nerves. He was elated that she'd agreed to have dinner with him. He was almost done with this cigarette when a man came through the doors. He walked three or four steps, then turned around to wave to someone inside the store. It was the same man he'd seen her with the night before.
He'd just lit another cigarette when she appeared, now composed and in control. "Can we walk through the park? I don't feel much like eating."
"Of course we can," he answered, and reached for her hand.
"There's something I've wanted to talk you about," she began. "I'm not quite sure how to say this. It's your job, in that dingy little office."
"What about my job?" Dingy little office or not, he loved being a private investigator. Besides, the office wasn't that bad.
"Why do you stay there? You're a bright man, you could get almost any job you wanted. Something with a nice office, and prestige, and something that paid a lot better than what you're getting now."
"Is that what's important to you? Money and prestige? Do I embarrass you with my dingy little office? You're right, I could get any number of jobs. Dull, unchallenging, boring jobs. Jobs where I'm tied to a desk all day; the same desk, every day, from nine to five. Jobs that make me crazy, cranky, miserable. Is that what you want?"
"No, it's not what I want. But I don't understand . . . honestly, Stuart, why do you want to waste your time like that? Where is being a private investigator going to get you? You'll never have anything but that damn little office, and we'll struggle for every penny. What happens when we want to go out and have some fun? What if we want to take a vacation, or buy a house? How are we going to do it on that measly little paycheck you bring home . . . when you bring one home at all?"He was madder than he'd ever been before . . . and at the same time he was miserable. Why had she turned on him like that? He let go of her hand and stopped to look at her. Really look at her. She'd changed, but not overnight. It had happened slowly - so slowly that he didn't even see it. Maybe that's what last night was about. . . the new Connie Falconari. The woman that didn't care what she did, or who she did it with. The first day he'd seen her she was beautiful, so sweet and fragile, like the rose he'd brought her that night. Where was that girl? Was she using her complaints about his work to justify what he'd seen at three o'clock in the morning? And what had he seen? She hadn't said a word about anything but his work. Was she even going to tell him where she was last night, or who the man was that he'd seen her with? And what about the lunch at Chow Ling's, their special place?
"If I'm so inadequate why don't you find somebody better suited to your needs?" The words were out of his mouth before he had a chance to think about them. No, no, no, I didn't mean that he thought. Oh God, please let me take it back. "Connie, I . . . I didn't mean that. You know how I feel about you. I want to marry you, to have a home and a family with you. To be together forever."
"I have to go back to work, Stuart, but this discussion isn't finished. I'll be at your apartment at six-thirty tonight. Please see if you can be there." She turned her back on him and headed back to the department store, to her refuge from him. He stood there, lost and alone, in so much pain that he couldn't even move. He would be sure to be home at six-thirty.