Tell her it’s Olivia.
Tell her it’s her daughter.
Tell her I’m sinking like a cinder block and I need my mom.
Tell her she’s the only one who can help me.
“Tell her my many-eyed intuition led me to her starry night,” I finally say, quoting a line from what I know is Lorena’s very favorite self-help book.
“What does that mean?” Silver says.
“Just tell her. Please. Rather.”
There’s a pause on the line and I think Silver might have hung up on me. I wonder how many other accents I have in my arsenal, how many times I’ll have to call back. And then the line clicks through and I hear the voice that’s been the honey in my life’s tea for almost thirty years.
“You’ve got Lorena, but Lorena hasn’t got you!”
For a moment I can’t speak I’m so grateful. Then, just before the words pour out, I remember to disguise my voice.
“Thank you very muchindeedfor taking my call.”
“What’s weighing on your soul, Many Eyes?”
“There’s this man,” I say. “He’s been in my life for some time, but recently I’ve realized I can’t live without him. The trouble is, I’m not sure any of it is real.”
“I’m listening...” Lorena says. For a moment it’s like we’re curled up in her bed.
“Reality’s a fantasy,” Silver squawks.
“Silver,” I say, “would you mind if we let Lorena speak for the rest of the call?”
“A chair missing a leg falls over,” Silver mumbles. “But okay.”
“You say the gentleman has been in your life a long time,” Lorena says. “How did you meet?”
“In high school, ten years ago.”
“High school sweethearts!” Silver says. “That’s adorable. You hardly ever hear of those anymore.”
“She didn’t say they were sweethearts,” my mom intuits wisely.
“We weren’t,” I say. “For a long time I thought I hated him. After high school, he seemed to get everything he wanted. I felt like I was sinking lower by the day. The one time we saw each other—at my best friend’s wedding—was a disaster. And actually, that disaster is still unfolding.”
I hadn’t meant to tell this version of the story. I wanted to describe our lives as they have been in the High Life, to arrive at the rift I’m trying to mend in the world I’m in. But as I talk, I find reality and alternate reality are blending together. At first, I fear I’m botching the details of both stories into unrecognizability. But then I realize that what I’m doing is telling the truth of my heart. Not wholly here, nor wholly there, something harder to pin down. Something deep inside and ethereal.
“Tell me what’s unfolding now,” says Lorena.
“We reconnected, about a week ago. It’s been odd and unsettling, but also beautiful. Much better than I expected. He’s kinder than I knew anyone could be, especially him. And through him, I see myself in a different way.”
I’m talking about our marriage, but I find myself thinking about our encounters in the real world, too. I read Jake wrong in the teahouse parking lot, and in my LEAF, and at the rehearsal dinner and the wedding.
“And the trouble?” my mom asks.
“The trouble is what I’ll lose by saying yes to this relationship. Is there always a trade-off with love?”
“We all make bargains.”
“But does it have to be so Faustian, so all or nothing and forever? How do you ever know if you’re making the right choice?”