Seven Year Switch Part 14

We all laughed.

"I think it was from the tour company I was working for," I said. "I can't even remember the name of it anymore."

"If It's Tuesday, This Must Be j.a.pan?" Seth said.

I shook my head. "OhmiG.o.d, that was the worst job in the whole wide world. I never thought I'd survive it. If I hadn't met you that night..."

I closed my mouth, because I didn't have an end to the sentence. It was too vast, both the best and the worst of all things possible.

"What wish did you write, Dad?" Anastasia asked.

"I wished that the girl with the pen didn't already have a boyfriend."

I took another sip of wine and pretended I wasn't there.

Anastasia reached for another skewer of chicken satay. "Did your wish come true?"

"My wish came true," I heard Seth say, even though I was staring at the candles in the sink and trying not to listen. "It was the second most magical night of my life."

"What was the first?" Anastasia said.

I looked up at him.

Seth reached over and tickled Anastasia's cheek with her ponytail. "The night you were born, silly."

23.

SETH YAWNED. HE STOOD UP, PUT BOTH HANDS ON HIS lower back, and stretched. "What time is it anyway?"

I yawned, too, then peeked in at the living room clock. The one on the stove had been broken since Anastasia and I'd moved in.

"Wow," I said. "It's almost midnight. I'm really sorry-I had no idea it was this late."

Seth rubbed his eyes. "That's okay. It's one of those jobs you pretty much have to finish once you start it. Thanks for letting me read Asia a bedtime story while you ran out to buy the sealer, by the way."

"I can't believe you got her to go to sleep," I said.

He smiled. "She conked right out while I was reading."

"I didn't realize you'd have to cut the counter to install the sink," I said.

Seth ran his hands across the fluted ceramic front of the sink. "It was worth it. This sink is a real beauty."

He put the pink saw back into Cynthia's silver and pink tool case. He snapped the lid closed and put it on the floor. "I have to admit, I was relieved to find out the Barbie tool case belonged to a neighbor."

We grinned at each other.

"Not my style," I said.

"I didn't think so."

Seth turned back to the sink. "Okay, let's test this baby out." He twisted the drain and turned on the cold water. We both stood there and watched the sink fill up.

Seth turned off the faucet. He picked up Anastasia's Styrofoam krathong from the kitchen counter and floated it on the water.

He reached his hand into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out some change. He handed me a penny.

When his hand touched mine, I pulled back as if I'd been stung, but I was already holding the penny.

I placed it in the center of the floating krathong. Seth put his penny next to mine. I wished for the courage to ask the question that had been burning a hole in my heart for the last seven years.

"Why, Seth?"

I waited for him to say why, what? Or even to turn and run.

He gave the krathong a little push across the sink. "You don't remember?"

Now I wanted to run, but I didn't. "Remember what?"

He turned and looked at me with tired hazel eyes. "G.o.d, Jill. You knew I wanted it to be the three of us. I kept asking and asking you to come with me. I was suffocating. I'd wake up in the middle of the night, and I literally couldn't breathe."

I was drawing a complete blank.

He rubbed his hand back and forth across the dark stubble on his jaw. "I mean, it wasn't the life we'd planned. We were going to keep traveling to exotic places until we found somewhere that felt just right and where we could make a difference. And suddenly, you're all about getting Asia wait-listed for preschool and never missing Sunday dinner at my parents'. And then, don't you remember, you wanted to move into their bas.e.m.e.nt...."

"Just long enough to save for a down payment on a house," I said. "And it's not like they didn't offer."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "I didn't think you were serious," I said. "I mean, I knew you thought you were serious. But I thought you just hadn't come around to facing reality yet. What if Anastasia got malaria? It was hard enough finding a good pediatrician here."

A cool breeze blew through the window over the sink, and the old white rolling shade made a snapping sound. I rubbed my bare arms to warm them up.

"I'd spent my whole life trying to break away from my family," Seth said.

"I'd spent my whole life trying to find a family," I said.

Seth made a sound that was almost a laugh.

I looked at him. "Why did you come back, Seth?"

He looked up. I followed his gaze. There was an ugly outdated light fixture in the middle of my kitchen ceiling. The carca.s.ses of several trapped dead bugs were clearly visible behind the round frosted gla.s.s globe. I'd never noticed them before.

"Do you want the truth?"

I wasn't sure, but I nodded anyway.

Seth was still staring at the light fixture. "There was this woman. We'd been together for a while, a couple years, and then one day out of the clear blue sky she wanted to move back to the States, get married, and have kids."

"So, what," I said. "You thought you'd drop in again to invite Anastasia and me to the wedding? Or maybe you needed a flower girl?"

"Don't," Seth said.

I didn't say anything.

"It was this huge epiphany for me. I mean, how could I do that? I already had a family."

"Duh," I said.

I had no idea why I said it. Possibly too much time spent in the company of a ten-year-old. In any case, it cracked us both up. We laughed and laughed, in that slightly hysterical way that happens when your nerves have been strung tight for too long, and every time one of us would stop, the other would get us going again. A long time ago, Seth and I had laughed together a lot.

I pulled a sheet of paper towel off the roll and dabbed at my eyes. "So," I said casually. "Are you still with her?"

"No, we went our separate ways right after that. It's been over a year now."

Neither of us said anything. We stood there for a while. I was leaning back against the farmer's sink, and the fluted edges pressed into my back like ceramic ruffles.

"Well," I said finally. "Thanks again for putting in the sink."

Seth stretched. "Yeah, I should get out of here."

I turned to drain the water in the sink, and Seth went to walk past me at the same moment. We b.u.mped into each other. I stepped right. Seth stepped left.

"Dance?" I said.

He put his hands on my shoulders.

When he kissed me, it was as if all the years just melted away. I knew the curve of his back; the ticklish spot behind his ear; the clean, earthy way he smelled. My brain shut down and let raw pa.s.sion take over. He could have grabbed me by the hair and dragged me down the hallway to my bedroom like a caveman, and I would have loved it. Or, if he didn't, I would have clubbed him over the head and dragged him.

We made love in my messy bedroom quietly, careful not to wake our daughter. I flashed back to the times when she was a baby and we'd try to sneak off to the bedroom on the weekend, while she was taking a morning nap and we still had some energy before the day wore us down. We'd pull down the shades against the bright morning sun and make love quickly, furtively, a race against naptime.

To night, we ran our fingertips up and down each other's bodies as if we were reading seven years of Braille. Finally I curled up against Seth and fell asleep with his arms wrapped around me.

After a wedding in the Netherlands, couples sometimes plant lilies of the valley around their house so that they can celebrate the renewal of their love each time the blooms come around again.

I dreamed that Seth and Anastasia and I moved to Holland. We bought a tall, skinny brick house with steep winding stairs in The Hague. The house was in a row of attached brick houses that all looked the same from the front and had narrow walled brick gardens in the back.

Every day after school, Anastasia would join us in the garden, and the three of us would plant lilies of the valley together. Because we knew that even though the leaves and flowers of the plant were poisonous, somehow what we were really planting in Holland was happiness.

24.

I WOKE UP JUST BEFORE MY ALARM WENT OFF. IF THE room hadn't smelled of stale s.e.x, I might have been able to convince myself I'd dreamed the whole thing.

"s.h.i.+t," I said out loud.

It was hard to tell whether I was talking about the fact that Seth was no longer in my bed or that he'd been there at all.

I jumped up and slipped into my ancient terry cloth robe. Maybe Seth wasn't really gone but only making pancakes or something. If so, I needed to get him out of here. Fast, before Anastasia woke up.

My kitchen was empty, other than the new farmer's sink. Its fancy fluted front seemed to undulate across the room at me like some porcelain cabaret dancer.

Clearly, I needed caffeine. I made my way over to the tea-kettle, careful not to look at any surface that might possibly be holding a note from Seth. What ever had happened last night, whether it turned out to be the best thing that could have happened between us or the worst, I definitely didn't want to have to read about it in a note that would be seared into my brain for the next seven years.

I poured boiling water over an English Breakfast tea bag, because it was the strongest thing in my cupboard. I let it brew briefly, then gulped it down while it was still hot enough to burn my kiss-ravaged mouth.

As soon as the caffeine kicked in, I allowed my eyes to wander around the kitchen. I mean, just because there was a note didn't mean I had to read it. I could always simply cut to the chase and burn it right away.

The kitchen turned out to be note-free. I checked my bedroom-under the pillows, on top of the dresser, even the back of the door. Nothing. Nothing in the bathroom either.

I knocked on Anastasia's door. "Time to get up, Sweetie," I sang in a fake cheery voice.

And the whole time I was thinking: This time I didn't even get a note.

OF ALL DAYS, Cynthia had to pick today to be on time for the bus. She was already sitting on my front steps when I opened the door. Anastasia ran right past her to join the kids on the sidewalk.

"Hey," I said.

Cynthia crossed her spray-tanned legs at the ankles and pulled her tennis skirt down until it was only a mile or two from her knees.

I crumpled my way down and landed on the top step beside her in my ratty T-s.h.i.+rt and sweats.

"Woo," she said. "Late light over here last night. Looks like you partied till the cows came."

"Yeah, well, at least I got the kitchen sink installed."

Her eyes lit up. "Do you mind sharing the plumber?"

"Actually," I said, "he's all yours if you want him."

"Thanks, girlfriend," Cynthia said.

The bus pulled up. Anastasia checked her Purple People Reacher Phone flamboyantly as she climbed up the steps. She'd probably double, if not triple, her cool quotient by the end of the day, though she'd have to keep everything but the GPS and the emergency b.u.t.ton on the phone turned off while she was at school. I remembered this from glancing at Rules for Cell Phone Use at Fraser Elementary School in the back-to-school packet, right before I pitched it. At the time I remembered thinking: What kind of crazy parent would let her fourth grader get a cell phone? Ha.

Anastasia disappeared without a glance my way and took a seat at the far side of the bus. I had the feeling I could disappear just as casually, and she'd never even miss me. She'd been daddy's little girl from the moment she'd heard Seth was back. It was as if all the time I'd been there for her had simply evaporated the minute he showed up. Hey, I wanted to yell after the bus, remember me? The one who's been taking care of you all these years?

Cynthia was already halfway back to her house by the time I noticed she was gone, so I dragged myself inside and jumped in the shower. I turned the hot water up until it was almost scalding and shampooed twice. The old song about was.h.i.+ng that man right outta my hair floated into my head, but I couldn't quite bring myself to sing it.

I was trying not to think, to stay numb, but waves of anxiety kept rising from my stomach to my heart, and a little voice inside of me wouldn't shut up. Just when you were finally moving on, it moaned. What were you thinking? it groaned.