The History of Us (38 page)

Maybe it was because she’d pictured this moment so often and so long that she was having such trouble actually living it. That she seemed to be an actor in a part rather than herself. What had it been like to live in the days before the movies and TV had shown us every moment we could possibly expect to live? What had it been like when your experience actually seemed to belong to you? Noah’s mouth was on her mouth. His hand had slipped from her chin to the side of her neck. Her mind was detached, but her heart was wild. He pulled back and looked at her. She didn’t have to open her eyes, not having closed them. “I’m sorry,” he said. He dropped his hand. “I’m sorry,” he said again.

“Did I not kiss you back?” she asked.

“Um. At first I thought yes. But no, no. I don’t think so.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I went out of body there for a second.”

“My fault,” he said.

“No, it’s mine,” she said, and then, to put an end to this conversation,
she kissed him. Be quiet, mind. Be quiet, guilty uncertainty. Desire has its own morality. What you want you should have. What you’ve wanted for so long you must have wanted for a reason.

She kissed him, and then she kissed him harder. She pressed her whole body against him, because why not, why not, why not. He lifted her up and put her on the island—my God, this really was a movie, but no, don’t think about that, be in the moment, he’s kissing you, he’s kissing you. She did her best. She wrapped her legs around him. He slid his hands under her shirt, and then he pushed her shirt up, and then he was kissing her breasts where they emerged from her bra, her fingers buried in his hair. This was what was happening.

Did she hear the door? She didn’t think so, though how she could have failed to was a question that would puzzle her for quite some time. Maybe she heard it but didn’t register it, concentrating as she was on trying to enjoy kissing and being kissed, on insisting to herself that she didn’t want to stop this, there was no reason to stop this, this was what she’d wanted for so goddamn long.

All she could say for sure was that she was half-naked on the kitchen island, Noah’s mouth on her breasts, when she registered a sound and looked up to find her aunt staring at them. Theo froze, and then Noah jumped back wearing an almost comic expression of horror. Theo yanked down her shirt.

“I’m going to go back out,” Eloise said. “And pretend that didn’t happen.” She turned on her heel. The front door opened and closed. There was a throbbing silence. Theo didn’t know what to say, or how she felt. The only emotion she could register was embarrassment.

“Wow,” Noah said. “That was super awkward.”

“Super awkward?” Theo repeated. There was nothing to do but laugh, so she laughed. “Did you see the look on her face?”

“Oh my God,” Noah said. “I think maybe she wanted to kill me.”

“Or me!”

“Now what do we do? Where did she go?”

“I don’t ever want to see her again.”

“No, me neither.” He groaned. “I’m going to have to quit my job.”

“I’m going to have to quit my family!”

The front door opened again, and they both froze. “I’m going upstairs,” Eloise called, and then they heard her footsteps as she ascended.

“Thank God,” Noah said. “I was thinking about running out the back door and abandoning my car.”

“Where would you run to?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “Maybe I’d just keep running forever.” He looked at her seriously after he said this, and there was some kind of apology in his expression. “Should I go?” he asked.

“I guess so,” she said. “She’s
my
aunt.”

He nodded as if he understood what she meant by this. He hesitated, and then he leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll call you,” he said.

Maybe he would call her. She went on sitting on the island after he left, unable to choose her next move. Maybe he’d call her, and he’d ask her on a date. They’d go to the movies. They’d go to Graeter’s and get a sundae with two spoons. They’d go back to his place and make out on the couch. At some point she’d be sleeping in his bed, all evidence of Marisa removed from his
room, boxed up, sent back, given away. The thought of all this made her very, very tired. It was like reshooting the movie with the lead actor changed. Why was it so hard to tell the difference between what you thought you wanted and what you wanted? Why did people have to be such a danger to themselves?

She had had reasons for her choices. Good reasons. Hadn’t she? At this moment she couldn’t recall what they had been. What she wanted was Wes. That was finally clear to her, just in time for it to be too late to matter. It seemed bizarre and fantastical that by her own volition she’d made it impossible to go straight to his apartment and climb into his bed, to lie with her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, that steady, persistent, essential sound. A week ago she could have done that, and now she couldn’t, and that was her very own fault. How had she failed to see what luck it was to have found him, what a blessing it was to be found?

She pushed herself off the island, straightened her clothes, and went upstairs to face the judgment of her aunt.

Upstairs in her bedroom, Eloise was yanking the dirty clothes from her
bag so she could replace them with clean ones. Theo appeared in the doorway, looking rather like she had all those years ago when she’d shown up in the middle of the night to confess her drunkenness. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“For what?” Eloise asked irritably.

“For the scene downstairs.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Eloise said. “Though I’d prefer not to have seen that. Someday we’ll be able to have memories erased, and I’ll go get rid of that one.”

“You must think I’m awful.”

“Why? Because he has a girlfriend?”

“They broke up last week.”

“Then why would I think you’re awful? I’ve known for a while you had a thing for him.”

“Really?”

“Sure. I could see it all over your face every time he came around. If he broke up with his girlfriend, why shouldn’t you get what you want?”

Theo came into the room, a little timidly, like she thought Eloise might shoo her out again, a bothersome, naughty child. When that didn’t happen she sat down on the end of the bed and looked at her hands. “I’ve been seeing someone. More than that—I’ve been living with him, up until a week ago.”

“Josh told me.”

“He did?”

“He sent me an email letting me know where you both were. In case I was worried.”

Theo nodded.

“That’s not a criticism,” Eloise said, sighing, because she could see Theo had taken it as one. “I could’ve been in touch as easily as you. I was in kind of a state.”

“Me, too,” Theo said. “Except the state I was in was ignoring my life to hang out with a twenty-two-year-old.”

“So you broke it off with him?”

“He said that’s what I was doing, when I left his place to come back here.”

“But you don’t want it to be over?”

Theo sighed. “No. No, I don’t. What’s wrong with me that I’ve had such trouble deciding what I feel about someone I’ve been . . . ” She glanced at her aunt and finished, lamely, “seeing.”

Eloise shrugged. “Feelings go up and down,” she said. “Feelings aren’t sitting there like an object, or ticking on forward like a clock.”

“I feel like I just cheated on him,” Theo said. “Should I tell him? Should I apologize?”

Eloise frowned. “He thinks you broke up with him, so no,” she said. “But then I’m perhaps not the person to ask.”

“What do you mean?”

Eloise hesitated, but, really, what reason was there at this point not to tell her? “I cheated on Heather just a few weeks ago. Well, I guess it depends on your definition of
cheat.
I made out with this guy. She’d probably define that as cheating, so I guess I have to, too.”

“Wait a minute,” Theo said. “You cheated on Heather?”

“Yeah, I know, I suck. I have no excuse.”

“No, I mean, you cheated on
Heather
?”

“Oh,” Eloise said. She laughed. “You actually didn’t know?”

Theo stood up. “She’s your girlfriend?”

“Yes, she is. Everyone’s been announcing that this was in no way the secret I thought it was, so I assumed I’d been equally deluded with you.”

“Who’s been announcing that?”

“My mother, for one. And Gary told me that Claire knew.”

“Claire knew? She never said a word. What about Josh? How long has she been your girlfriend?”

“About three years. I don’t know about Josh.”

“Three years? I can’t believe this.”

“You have that in common with Heather. She’s been quite put out with me.”

“With good reason!”

Downstairs the front door opened and closed. Footsteps crossed the foyer. “Who is that?” Eloise asked.

“It must be Josh,” Theo said. “He’s been staying here, too.”

“Oh,” Eloise said. Then she called, “We’re up here, Josh,” and moments later he appeared in the doorway. He looked at his aunt, then his sister, then back at his aunt, and frowned. “What’s going on?”

“She’s a lesbian,” Theo said.

“Huh.” Josh looked at Eloise, who couldn’t repress an urge to wave. “Heather?” he asked.

Eloise nodded.

“It turns out I’m not actually that surprised,” Josh said.

Theo looked at him in astonishment. “Why not?”

Josh shrugged. “They spend a lot of time together.”

“They’re friends!”

“Well,” Josh said. “There was just something.”

“Just something? Why does nobody tell me about this something?”

“Simmer down, Theo,” Eloise said.

“Why should I? You’ve been lying to us for years. You threw us out of our house.”

“You’re twenty-eight years old.”

“It’s still my house.”

“Not technically. Technically it’s your grandmother’s house.”

“You know, you were always like this,” Theo said. “I’d come to you with something and you’d shrug and say, ‘Ah, well,’ or make some dry aside and that was all I’d get from you. I mean just today, with what happened today, all you say is, ‘People screw up, get over it.’ How helpful is that, Eloise? Could you have thought of anything else to say to me in the last seventeen years?”

“What happened today?” Josh asked, but they both ignored him.

“What did you want me to say?” Eloise asked.

“I don’t know! Something motherly. I wanted you to be comforting. Sometimes I wanted you to tell me I’d done wrong. Or tell me what to do. Just tell me what to do! You always assumed I knew.”

“You always seemed to know.”

“I was eleven years old!”

“I’m not completely sure what we’re talking about here,” Josh said.

“I believe she’s accusing me of having been an inadequate replacement for your mother.”

“That’s not fair,” Theo said, her voice trembling. “That’s totally unfair.”

“How so? That’s not what you were doing?”

“Guys,” Josh said.

“You can’t ever let me make a point!” Theo said. “You can’t let me have a legitimate reason! If you can’t win the argument by logic you just try to make me feel bad.”

Eloise yanked open a dresser drawer and grabbed a pair of jeans. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.

“I’m talking about the house!” Theo said. “I’m talking about the house!”

Eloise turned on her, the jeans still in her hand. “I have a legitimate reason for wanting the house. It’s called ‘money.’ It’s called the money I need and all the money I’ve spent. What’s your logic, Theo? I want it so I should have it? I want it even though to get a job I’m going to have to move away?”

“Maybe I’m not going to move away,” Theo said.

Eloise’s hands were shaking as she put the jeans in her bag.
“You’re not, huh. And you’re not worried about what you’ll have to live on? Okay, I understand you now. You don’t understand the need for money, never having needed it yourself. Know why you’ve never needed it yourself, Theo? Because I gave it to you.”

“You wish you’d never taken us,” Theo said.

“Theo!” Josh said.

“You wish you’d left us with Francine and gone back to Boston. You think we ruined your life.”

Eloise shook her head. She wanted to deny this. She couldn’t find the words, choking on her own guilt and grief and Theo’s bitterness. “Now who’s trying to make the other one feel bad,” she managed to say. She zipped her bag, not looking at either of them.

“Where are you going?” Josh said.

Eloise looked at him, but she could still see Theo in her peripheral vision. She could feel her there, accusation personified. “Claire has run off again, this time to your grandmother’s, and your grandmother, true to form, can’t handle the drama. So I’m going to get Claire. You can come if you want.” As soon as she lifted the duffel bag she knew she’d packed it too heavy, but she hefted it anyway, doing her best to carry it out of the room as though it wasn’t heavy at all. Her eyes were stinging. It seemed like a long way to the car.

She reached it, though, and sat inside, trying to decide how long to wait to see if either of them would follow. Josh, to come with her. Theo, to say she was sorry, she hadn’t meant it, not any of it. Or, even better, wouldn’t it be nice if Claire suddenly appeared from nowhere, and announced that the last couple months had been a massive practical joke? Eloise didn’t want to go get her. She was afraid of a Claire who couldn’t stop crying. She was afraid like she hadn’t been in years, not since she’d first
encountered tears and tantrums and realized with shock that now she was the one who had to know whether the child needed comfort or firmness, and if comfort, how much and if discipline, what kind and if advice, what was it? She was the one who would wear herself out with trying do the right thing and still make a great many mistakes. What had Rachel been thinking, leaving her children to Eloise?

Still in the bedroom, Josh looked at Theo, who seemed to be struggling against tears. Critical words were on his tongue, but at the sight of her face he couldn’t voice them. Poor Theo. She took things so to heart, and spent so much energy trying not to show it. “Let’s go with her,” he said.

Theo shook her head. “I can’t,” she said. “I don’t want to.”