Sweetest Taboo (12 page)

Tom had asked to see me today, and I needed to get out of the house. This was an important meeting. Tom had planned a two-week camping trip with his wife and two young daughters. When Tom first mentioned the camping trip, it hit me like a ton of bricks. It was one thing to know he was married with children, but it was entirely different to hear him making plans to go on holiday with his family.
I
wanted to be the one that Tom went camping with, and I didn’t want to think about him enjoying his time with his wife and children.

I walked into his classroom to find it empty. He wasn’t waiting for me as he usually did, and I wondered at the difference. I also wondered if he was even going to show up. After a few minutes of waiting, though, he strolled out of the darkroom. He was dressed casually in his khaki shorts and light blue Quicksilver T-shirt. He seemed indifferent when he saw me there.

“Have you been here long?” he asked nonchalantly.

I frowned, wondering what he was doing. “I got here a few minutes ago. You seem pretty busy. Do you want me to let you get back to work? I’m sure you’ve got a lot of things to get done before your camping trip, right?”

The fine lines around his eyes became more visible, and he barked with forced laughter.

“Yeah, Isabel, I’ve been busy lately, but not with work or my vacation. I’ve been busy convincing one of my summer school students that I’m not the guy you’re having an affair with. What did you tell Heather, exactly? She came up to me after class yesterday and asked if you and I were together.”

“What?” My heart skipped a beat. “Why would she say that?”

“She said that while the two of you were in Europe, you told her that you were going out with a married guy named Tom who had two kids. I’m sure it wasn’t difficult for her to put two and two together.”

My heart sank as I remembered the conversation. I had been elated at the time, because I was going to see Tom again soon, and I’d been too brave. I had made a huge mistake. I had been too careless with my words to Heather, and should never have revealed Tom’s name. My thoughts flew back to that trip, and I wondered nervously what else Heather had told Tom.

“I said that I was dating a guy who was married,” I told him, trying to keep my voice even, although there was a mildly hysterical edge to it. “But I never said he was a teacher. I told her it was some guy I met at a nightclub. What did you tell her?”

Tom sat down on the chair across from me and looked me square in the eyes.

“I’m not that worried about Heather because I can see she’s just trying to play games,” he said. Then his voice hardened. “But tell me something, Isabel. Did you enjoy swapping spit with Ryan?”

I stared at him, dumbfounded, and then looked away, fixing my eyes on the dark stain on the gray-carpeted floor. My cheeks burned with shame.

“You know what? It’s not even my business.” Tom got to his feet. “You’re free to do whatever you like with whomever you like. I have to say, though, that when Heather told me about you and Ryan, I was stunned. I’m sure she
did
put two and two together, not from what you said to her, but from the look on my face. The thought of you kissing him, and doing God knows what else…” Tom broke off and shook his head, a mix of anger and frustration on his face as he glared at me.

From nowhere a surge of confidence rushed through me. If this was to be the end, I thought, so be it. He would know exactly what had happened, and why. I wasn’t going to go down without a fight. I looked at Tom, meeting his hurt hazel eyes straight on.

“So now you feel one-tenth of the jealousy I feel,” I shot back. “And you’re upset and you don’t like it. Well, welcome to my world! Do you think I like the thought of you and your wife camping together? Or going to the movies together? Or lying in bed together? I don’t like any of those thoughts, but I deal with them without ever trying to make you feel guilty!” I was surprised at the assertiveness in my voice as I surged on. “The fact is, I have to give myself the opportunity to have normal relationships with guys my age. In case you’ve forgotten,
you’re
the married one here!
I’m
the one who gets to go on living by myself!”

There was a terse pause.

“Isabel, I’ve always been very honest with you, and I don’t hide anything from you,” Tom finally said, his tone more controlled. “But you don’t do the same. You’re very reserved with your thoughts and feelings, and most of the time you’re that way for my own good. I appreciate that. But I wish you were honest enough to tell me that you made out with Ryan because you felt you had to … to see what a normal teenage relationship was like. I wish I hadn’t had to hear all about it from Heather. You have no idea what a difficult situation that was for me.”

“Look, it’s not something I
wanted
to do,” I argued. “It’s something that just happened. And the truth is that kissing Ryan only reminded me of how much I missed and loved you.”

Tom walked over to where I stood. He carefully reached for my hand, and then, with nothing but tenderness, he embraced me. He cradled my face in his hands, his eyes staring into mine.

“You know, as much as I love you and am hurt by this revelation…you’re my sweetheart, Isabel,” he told me. “I don’t ever want to hurt you. Let’s learn to just be honest with each other from now on, whether it’s good or bad. Okay?”

I nodded in agreement as Tom’s lips met mine and we made up with a lingering and tender kiss.

***

Tom’s camping trip seemed to affect me much more than my two weeks in Europe had, as far as our time apart was concerned. This time he was the one that was away, and I was the one left behind. To make things worse, I had no way of communicating with him. Apparently it was impossible for him to escape for a few minutes to make a phone call. He was on a family vacation, and I wasn’t a part of his family.

I tortured myself by imagining Tom playing with his young girls at a leafy green campground, his wife preparing breakfast over the campfire. During the day they would swim in the lakes and streams and hike through the forest together; at night Tom and his wife would put their children to bed and lie together under the star-filled sky. Tom would make love to his wife, and when it was over, she would rest her head comfortably on his chest.

Would he be thinking of me? Would he think of me when he made love to his wife? Would he wish it were me instead of her? If he was thinking of me, surely he would have found a way to call. After waiting and hoping for a phone call from Tom for a week, though, the painful answer was very clear: not a chance. He had forgotten about me, and was spending time with his family instead.

“I just can’t believe it,” I raged to Liz as we sat in her back yard under the shade of a large oak tree. “I mean, all he ever talks about is how much he loves me, how much he thinks about me, and how much he needs me. Come on! At least now I know where we stand. Actually, I know where he stands. He’s just having some fun with me and that’s it. If he really loved me and missed me, he would find a way to call, right? I called him from half way around the world in Europe just to say hello and tell him that I missed him. My mom nearly killed me when she got the bill for that call! She demanded to know who I had called. I thought I was totally busted because she was even going to call the phone company to find out who that number belonged to. I had to lie and say that I had called you to tell you how the trip was going. I took a risk for him, you know? I called because I really missed him. What are you smiling about, Liz? Do you find this funny?”

Liz exhaled as if that was the only way she could shake the smile from her face.

“Oh Izzy, why don’t you just forget about him, then?” she asked, as if it were the most straightforward thing in the world for me to do. “This is just too much drama. You’re a pretty little thing, and he’s a married man. To be honest, I worried about whether he was going to hurt you like this in the end, but I didn’t realize that you’d fallen for him the way you have. Why don’t you just find someone else to mess around with? I know you think you’re in love with him, but it’s probably just because he’s the first guy you’ve ever gotten so far with.”

I twirled my white rubber flip-flops with the tip of my toe, pondering over her words.

“At least you didn’t have sex with him, otherwise you would be feeling pretty lousy right now,” Liz continued. “It’s hard to tell what his deal is, but in his defense, at least he didn’t use you for sex. And you’re leaving in three weeks, so he’s probably just distancing himself to make it easier, you know? Look, you need to do what’s best for
you
. And that shouldn’t include sitting here feeling all miserable during your last few weeks in the country. Stop thinking about him. He’s made his choice, and you’re clearly not it.”

“I know. I don’t think I can deal with this anymore,” I confessed. “I thought I loved him, but let’s be honest. I shouldn’t be sitting around thinking about what a grown man is doing with his wife, and how that affects me. He doesn’t seem to care about me, or that I’ve only got a few weeks left.”

“If I were you, Isabel, I would just enjoy myself with my friends and have a good time before I go back for good. He’s just going to ruin your last few weeks here. Do you want to be sad when you leave? Do you want it to be a tragic thing? It’s not like you can keep a relationship going from all the way in Chile. He’s married, and more than twice your age. You just have to let it go.”

Liz was right. I had been thinking the same thing, and she was just confirming it; it was time to forget all about Tom and focus on leaving the United States and starting a new life in Chile. He had hurt me with his lecture about Ryan and me, he had tried to make me feel guilty for messing around with Ryan when I got home from Europe, and now his silence was clear – he was choosing to think about his family and himself rather than me. It was time for me to do the same.

***

A few days after my epiphany, Tom returned home and made his first of many attempts to contact me. His efforts were futile; I had made up my mind while he was gone, and I wasn’t turning back now. I stopped answering the phone at home and let the answering machine pick up, knowing full well that he would never leave a message. I told my family that if “John” called, I was either not home or busy. My dad naturally welcomed this, although he had no clue who John was. My mom, on the other hand, questioned me.

“Why will you not take this boy’s phone calls, Isabel?”

“Mami, don’t worry about it,” I said, leaning against the kitchen table to watch her prepare her famous
empanadas
. “I just don’t want to talk to him, that’s all. I’ve told him, but he’s clearly obsessed.”

My mom glanced at me through her frameless glasses. She shrugged and continued to stuff the dough disks with a ground beef filling, but she wasn’t finished with me.

“Isabel, you shouldn’t treat people this way. It’s not proper. In fact, it’s very rude. If you don’t want to talk to him and you want him to stop calling, you should just be honest and tell him that. It’s not nice to lead boys on. You wouldn’t like it if someone didn’t take your calls, would you? You don’t have to answer that.”

If only my sweet, kind mother had known she was defending an adulterous man more than twice my age. She would have killed him rather than defending him. Then, of course, she would have killed me.

“Fine. Once we leave, I won’t ask you to lie to anyone who calls for me,” I promised. The
empanadas
would be ready for the oven soon, so I set four of our ivy-trimmed dishes on the kitchen table and placed napkins next to each plate. “But for now, just tell him I’m not home. He’s bothering me and I really don’t want to talk to him. Okay?”

Tom called my house every day during the last three weeks I was in the country. I felt guilty about ending our relationship so abruptly, and wondered if I should at least tell him what had happened. But my feelings of guilt turned quickly to anger and resentment. Tom was probably only calling because he wanted one last ‘go’ with me. He knew that I was leaving, so maybe he wanted to get one last kiss or frolic in, I convinced myself. His camping trip and inability to contact me during those two weeks hurt me so much, that I became determined never to see him again.

***

Saying goodbye to my friends was difficult; yet, it was more of
bon voyage
than
goodbye
. My parents had promised Tony and me that we could come back to the United States once a year on vacation, so I knew I would be seeing my friends again in the not-too-distant future. However, Tony was devastated because he had to leave his girlfriend Amy behind, and although I was trying to perceive the move as a positive event, I was reserving my true feelings for the sake of my parents.

I looked back one more time as we drove away from our house. It was a house I had come to know and love over the years – the one single level, the bright yellow paint, even the massive maple tree in the back. I would miss that, and my life here. My mind drifted to Tom for the last time, and my vision became blurred with tears that seemed to spring from a very deep place in my heart. Had I done the right thing? Would he miss me? Maybe after some time in Chile, I thought, I would write to him and apologize for abruptly ending the one relationship I cherished most.

Chapter Ten

No More “I Love You’s”

T
he southern hemisphere spring was blooming with wild September flowers and thick green foliage when we arrived in Santiago, since the seasons were opposite than what had been my Northern Hemisphere home for so long. My dad, who had traveled back to Chile a month earlier to take care of all the arrangements, was waiting for us at the airport with what appeared to be our entire extended family. The rest of the day was a blur of distantly familiar faces from my childhood: aunts, uncles, cousins, family friends, neighbors, grandparents, and even our former nanny.

Our new house was in a quaint little suburb in Santiago. In Chile, there was no such thing as a mortgage, like there was in the United States; a person had to save for years, even an entire lifetime, to purchase a house in a single cash payment. This was what drove my parents to immigrate to the United States in the first place. They wanted to own a home of their own in Santiago; a home that they could one day leave to their children, as was the Chilean custom. They had spent years struggling and sacrificing in the U.S. to save money for the house. Now that they had accomplished their dreams, we were back.