These are the best of times
STYX
I don't believe I ever looked forward to a simple lunch session in the school cafeteria as much as I did that Tuesday afternoon, the day after Nina invited me to join her. I hardly slept at all that night, tossing and turning restlessly as my mind kept screaming at me: Nina is back! Nina is talking to me again! Bleary eyed I drug myself off to school and experienced a near crawl of the time continuum through first period. When the bell rang I nearly sprinted to my second class, feeling like the teenager I was charading as for perhaps the first time since returning.
I took my seat and waited nervously while other students filed in, my eyes drawn to the seat next to mine, the seat that had been so recently occupied by a silent and reproachful Nina. That would be different today, wouldn't it? She hadn't changed her mind, had she? She was talking to me again, wasn't she?
When she entered the room her face was blank, expressionless. She walked to her chair and methodically removed her book and notepaper from her backpack before stowing it in under her seat. She arranged her supplies on her desk and sat down.
"Good morning Nina." I told her nervously.
For a horrible instant I thought that she was going to simply ignore me as she had in the past. Just keep her eyes facing forward, her psyche radiating a stern signal that communication was not desired. Had she changed her mind? Had she decided to wash her hands of me after all?
Finally she looked over at me, her expression remaining blank. "Good morning." She told me.
"Are we still on for lunch?" I asked her, dreading her answer but needing to hear it all the same.
A slight smile gave me hope. "Sure." She nodded. "If you still want to."
Relief and renewed hope washed over me. I returned her smile. "More than anything." I said.
Her smile widened, warming her face and making me feel giddy. She was smiling! At me no less! In that instant I blessed that idiot Brett and his carelessness at leaving the scalpel blade up in the tray. In fact I wanted to buy him a beer for doing that.
The entrance of the instructor and the initiation of that day's lecture brought our conversation to an abrupt end. I hardly heard a word that was said.
Third period offered us little chance to talk. By the time we found our seats in the classroom it was time for class to start. I barely heard that lecture too, so intent was I on the agonizingly slow ticking of the clock as it marched its way towards lunch.
Finally, lunchtime came. We walked in silence together to the cafeteria, unsure of what to say to each other, unsure how to begin. We got our food and then found seats at an empty table. I wasn't sure what I'd expected from this reconciliation but the awkward silence we were experiencing was certainly not it. We picked at our food, neither one of us able to make the first statement, both of us secreting nervousness as we secreted perspiration when hot. What was happening here? I'd never had trouble talking to Nina before. Why couldn't I say anything now? Was it because, for the first time, we were both aware of our naked feelings for each other?
Because we'd both used the word love in conversation? Because we both knew that our relationship depended absolutely on what transpired? Were we both deathly afraid of saying the wrong thing?
I wanted to reassure her that I loved her. I wanted to promise once more that I'd never hurt her again. I wanted to hear her say she loved me, only this time not in a break-up conversation or in anger. But none of that seemed right. I'd said my piece the day before and she knew how I felt. I knew I was on probation here, an extremely rigid probation. If I said or did one wrong thing, Nina would possibly disappear from my life, moving back to the fate which was still trying to claim her.
I looked at her, at the features of her plain face that were so beautiful to me now. I knew that SOMETHING needed to be said. She looked back at me, probably thinking the same, probably wondering what was going to come out of my mouth, probably wondering if she'd made a mistake in giving me a second chance. What had brought us together in the first place? What had made us love each other before? Could that be recaptured?
"What was the book?" I finally asked, speaking softly.
She continued to stare at me for a moment, her face taking on the expression of one that doesn't believe she's heard correctly. "The book?" She asked.
I nodded. "You said you read a book you were dying to discuss. What was the book?"
Her face warmed almost inperceptively and I knew I'd said exactly the right thing.
"It was called 'The Cider House Rules'." She said.
"By John Irving." I nodded, thanking whatever gods there may be that it was a book I was familiar with. This was not entirely a coincidence. Nina and I, we'd discovered earlier in our relationship, shared the same tastes in literature.
"You've read it?"
"Yes I have." I nodded. "A very astute analysis on the issue of abortion. Very good book, one of Irving's best I think. I particularly liked how well the characterization was done."
She sat up straighter. "So did I. My favorite character was Candy. I really liked the way she…"
We discussed the book together, hitting upon our favorite parts and characters and then opinionating on what the meaning of the story was. This then led to a discussion about abortion in general. Though we were talking together as we used to it was clear to both of us that there was a strain that had never existed before. Nina was very guarded, her smiles not as broad or genuine as they'd once been. It was as if she did not want to enjoy our conversation, did not want to allow herself to get too close to me too quickly.
By the end of the lunch period it was plain what the rules were going to be.
We would be moving slow and I was going to have to regain the trust I had lost. It wasn't going to be awarded to me by default. Those were my terms, firm though unspoken, and I was going to have to accept them.
I had put considerable thought into the problem of Anita. Though I had ended my relationship with her and though my second talk with her seemed to have brought this fact home to her, I still felt a considerable amount of guilt. Things were not right with Anita. She had been pulled from her destiny because of me. And because she had been pulled from her destiny, her children had been pulled from theirs. They were growing up without a father figure in the house, something they were not meant to do. The ramifications of this could only be guessed at. Maybe there would be no change in their future. But maybe there would be a catastrophic one. Anita, for many reasons, needed to be steered back to her destiny. The responsibility for doing this was mine alone.
My talk with Tracy and the run of my own thoughts convinced me that putting Anita back on her track was not only possible but should be reasonably easy at this point in time. Fate was, for once, on my side, my ally in this endeavor. All she needed, I theorized, was a little nudge. But the more time that went by, the harder that nudge would have to be. Since I was under a doctor's orders not to return to either ROP or my normal job, I took it upon myself to fill this idle time giving that nudge. Her and her intended needed to be put together. The question was how to do it?
I knew from my long relationship with her that Anita was a real estate agent specializing in single-family houses in the North Spokane area. Though I had never been there, I knew where she worked. I also knew that Jack Valentine, her destined husband, worked at the same office. What I did not know was what Jack Valentine DID at that office and I only had the vaguest impression of what he looked like. My only memory of his features came from my previous life. I needed to gather some information.
Being free from ROP after my first lunch with Nina, I climbed into my car and drove to North Spokane, parking three blocks down from Anita's office. It was located on a major street that fed to the freeway system. The street was lined with gas stations, mini-marts, and strip malls. The office itself was located between a dentist's office and a pizza parlor. A light snow was falling as I entered the side parking lot of the complex, moving with all the caution of an infantry soldier in enemy territory.