After I downed two slices of toast and a cup of strong tea, she pried the previous evening's sorry tale out of me, piece by embarrassing piece. Then she spun it with her own perspective. It was not quite the flavor of sympathy I had in mind. I hoped for a good dose of men-are-scum (except for Uncle Henry and Dad), and a sample of you're better-off-without-the-Neanderthals. Instead I got something completely different.
"Give Paul time. He's unhappy right now and feeling a little foolish. It doesn't hurt a man to feel foolish every once in a while." She patted my hand and winked. "Keeps 'em humble. That's what my mum always used to say."
"He should feel foolish. He certainly acted that way. And I'm not interested in 'giving him time.' I made a huge mistake agreeing to go out with him, thinking it would just be a friendly little get-together instead of, of -" I waved my hands in the air.
"Well, your timing wasn't the best."
"My timing?"
She nodded and patted my hand. "Well, no help for that now, is there? Still some things have their own schedules and there's nothing you can do about it. Like Eric and your sis."
"I'm not Juliet. I don't jump into things. I take my time and evaluate." I shifted in my chair and sat up a little straighter. Maybe I sounded righteous, but I was in real pain here.
"Oh, now, there was no jumping going on there with those two. I always thought they should have gotten together sooner. They've been friends for quite some time. Probably a good two years, and they've been dating for a good three months now."
"Huh. Three months? That's a record for her." And not quite what she told me. I sniffed. "Well, I need to be on my own, anyway…"
"Thea, love, you've been on your own for a lot longer than most women your age."
"No I haven't. I've always depended on you and Uncle Henry, and Juliet and -"
"You've always made your own way. And what's wrong with having people around who love and support you? Do you think that makes you weak?"
"Well, no, but…"
"It does open you up to pain, and it takes a strong person to risk being vulnerable." Without so much as a pause for breath, she adjusted her sights. "Don't push him away because the timing doesn't seem right."
"I didn't push him away. He left under his own steam."
"I know, dear."
"Well, it's true. You didn't see his face or hear what he said. He said hateful things."
More patting. "I know, dear."
"Then I said hateful things, too."
This time I got a shoulder squeeze. "I know, dear."
"He thinks I'm scheming and duplicitous. God," I groaned, covering my face with my hands, "I don't want to feel like this."
She sighed and poured me another cup of tea. "You know, your uncle and I have been together forty-six years."
"Great. I can't sustain even a date for two hours. I'm so far off the bell curve of success and failure in relationships I could be classified an anomaly."
She looked over the top of her glasses at me. I shut my mouth.
"As I was saying, forty-six years. Most people would think he and I have a perfectly compatible relationship."
I nodded. It was true. They seemed more content with each other than most couples I knew – most of the time.
"Well, it hasn't always been like that, but we both knew it was possible. It was something each of us needed and wanted with our hearts and souls."
I thought about my grandmother, Aunt Vi's older sister, and remembered the stories she used to tell about the upheavals in their young lives. These had always sounded like adventures to me. Now I saw uncertainty and unhappiness – more than two young girls deserved. How they must have longed for a life of predictability where the people you loved would always be there for you.
"The point is, Henry and I had to work at it. There were times when, despite two wonderful children of our own and the success Henry was achieving, I though one or the other of us would pack up and walk out."
That bit of history I would never have guessed.
"Thea, if you want something enough, you don't give up when things go wrong. If it's right and good, you have patience. Sometimes you have to trust, and not get so involved in the moment you forget there's a tomorrow that wants looking after."
"You sound like the riding lesson I had yesterday," I observed in a rueful flash of insight.
She held my gaze and nodded. "It's much the same, isn't it? People and horses. When they're good, you don't give up on them, even when there's a problem."
"It's too late. He's given up on me," I said, making a last stab at pathos.
She smiled gently. "You don't know what is or isn't in his heart right now. You have nothing to lose by biding your time, and maybe much to gain."
She was wrong, and though I was calmer than when she'd arrived I knew this was one horse that wasn't going to jump. Paul did not strike me as someone you could coerce or cajole without his permission. Sometimes you had to know when to walk away.
"You need to talk to Jonathan," she added after a few sips of tea.
"I know."
"He's basically a good man, but you're not right for each other. Neither of you brings out the best in the other. You both need something the other can't give, and you have to be the one to end things. He won't do it. The sooner the better."
"Yes, I know. I thought you liked him."
She smiled at me. "I like the man who makes you happy, and neither one of you has been happy for some time. He needs you to be someone you're not, and he constantly worries that you won't support him emotionally. You resent him for trying to change you. You need someone who thinks you're grand just the way you are, even if you're not a carbon copy of him. Even when you disagree."
I nodded and hugged her. Juliet had found someone – obviously. Would I ever find my someone? It surely wasn't Paul. I clamped down on my lower lip to hide the tremble.
A deep breath later I asked, "How did you come to be so wise?"
She laughed and wiped a little tear from the corner of her eye. "If you're really, really lucky, life knocks it into you." She stood and gave me a hug. I was so lucky to have her. "Time for me to go and time for you to get to work." She smoothed her dress and picked up her coat and purse.
The phone rang and my warm, fuzzy feeling turned cold and clammy. She squeezed my hand.
"Remember what I said, and be strong."
She nearly reached the front door when I discovered my phone call was from one of the other men in my life, Detective Thurman.
I covered the mouthpiece and called to my aunt to wait. After listening to the detective's terse order, I hung up. "He wants me to come in today with my attorney."
"Better give Mr. Green a call right away."
Aunt Vi stayed until I completed the call.
"This afternoon at three," I told her. "His office will call and arrange it."
"You let Mr. Green do his job, dear. You have nothing to worry about."
But worry I did. And I had work to do. Masses of work. I went to my office and turned on the computer. Order and predictability were what I needed and I dug into the stack of client folders sitting on my desk.
I had no sooner opened the first file when I heard a loud knock on my front door. Reluctantly, I left my desk. My hand on the knob, I asked, "Who is it?"
"It's Sarah Fuller. I want to talk to you."
Sarah? What would she be doing here? I didn't know she knew where I lived. Then again, with the number of people who were showing up on my doorstep lately, there was probably a big green sign on the freeway with an arrow pointing to my house.
Cautiously, I opened the front door. It was Sarah, all right, and boy, was she not happy. Her face was splotched purple with rage. Her fine, blond hair, wet from the rain, stuck together in clumps, giving her the appearance of a very angry, soaked cat. Did every irate person in the county have me on their To-Do List? Her mouth worked for several seconds, making me wonder if she had dentures that weren't fitting quite right.
Then the recriminations erupted.