The Weight of Gravity, page 23
Erika was reminded in that moment why her friendship with Miriam over the years was so important. Her advice was always comforting, even though Erika didn’t always take it. She never judged which was a blessing given Erika’s personal indiscretions. Miriam, she was certain, was too devoted to George to risk doing something stupid like bringing a Darrell into her life. Miriam also knew that George and Garner were very different people when it came to how they treated their wives. Maybe Miriam reasoned that, were she married to Garner instead of George, than she would have made choices similar to Erika. Regardless, Erika was grateful and devoted to her friend.
“Fine. I’ll write him again. But if he doesn’t answer this one, you’ll let it go, right, Mir? Agreed?”
“Oh, I’ll let it go, but will you ever?”
Chapter 45 - Max
Max sat at the computer after breakfast the following morning. He’d taken another evening to think it through. What would be the harm? We’re friends. No promises to be made, just a brief note letting her know that I appreciated hearing from her. The phone rang.
“Max, this is a great story with well developed characters. Dialogue is crisp and honest. This may be your best. When will I see the final chapters?”
“I’m glad you like it, Peter, and good morning to you too. I’m struggling with the ending, but I’ll find it. Give me time.”
“Okay, Max. I don’t want to rush the creative process, but I think you have a winner.”
Max returned to the computer in a mood more accommodating to the idea of corresponding with Erika. After all, Erika was as much Cottonwood as Caroline was New York, and Cottonwood had given him the gift of this latest, and soon to be greatest, novel.
Erika – It was nice hearing from you,” he began. Sorry that I didn’t write back right away. You can’t imagine how much work piled up here while I was in Cottonwood. My agent tells me the early chapters of the new book are good. I guess my writing is back on track. You might see the hardback copies at Borderlands soon. (I’m joking, of course.) I’m sorry to hear about your marriage. You and Garner have a lot of years invested. And then there’s Jay. Understandable that he’s not taking it well. Divorce is always hard on the kids, they say. Doris is set up on e-mail now. Send her a note if you get the chance. Take care. – Max.
He then turned his attention to finding the ending of the novel. It took the entire day to draft it out, but he still wasn’t happy. The action and motivations of his principle characters seemed forced, rushed to an unrealistic conclusion. It would take a while longer to find it, but he was certain the ending would come to him eventually. He just had to keep working at it.
There was a note from Erika when Max checked his mail that evening.
Max – I was pleased to see your note. You must be very busy. Wonderful news about the new book. I’m very proud of you, but I’ve always thought you were an incredibly gifted writer -- the best! I can’t wait to buy it. I’ll check the bookstore every day. You didn’t tell me about this new story before you left Cottonwood. What is it about? Write soon. – E.
Max responded immediately. It was always easy for him to talk about his stories when people asked.
Erika – thanks for asking about the book, but it will be some time before you find it in the bookstores. The story is about a middle-aged man who goes back to his roots in North Carolina to find himself. Sound familiar? My trip to Cottonwood definitely provided impetus for the story. My protagonist buys a sailboat and hires a local woman to teach him to sail. Anyway, the story is about what he learns about himself in his journey home. Don’t bother to buy it when it hits the shelves. I’ll send you a copy – signed, of course. – Max.
Max couldn’t help himself. He checked his mail before going to bed. It was three hours earlier in Cottonwood, he reasoned.
Max – I’m not sure I can wait. If I see the book, I’ll buy a copy and give it to Cindy at the shop when I get your signed copy. House is very empty. Jay left today for Colorado. He’s talking about joining a band. At his age? I don’t think so! Kids, you know? You’re lucky you never had to go through this. I think I’m finally pulling it together. I’m not happy about how things turned out in my marriage, but it’s going to be okay. Miss you, Max. – E.
Max turned off the computer and lights, and went to bed. He’d write tomorrow and tell her he’d always regretted not having children of his own.
Caroline slipped into bed about one thirty in the morning. She mumbled something about a late evening hopping clubs in Soho with the mishpocheh, her close friends. They rose together the next morning and left for breakfast. The note to Erika would have to wait.
Chapter 46 – Erika
In Cottonwood, Erika checked her e-mail before breakfast. Nothing. Maybe later. I’ll wait to hear from him before I write again. Don’t want to pester. She left the computer to answer the phone.
“I expected your call last night, Jay.”
“I’ve been busy, making friends up here, you know?”
“Would I like them?”
“Hell if I know, Mother. Do you like any of my friends? I didn’t call to small-talk.”
“Joining a band isn’t a topic for discussion, I told you that. I’m sure your grandparents agree with me.”
“They don’t care. It gets me out of their hair, too.”
“I didn’t send you there to get you out of my hair, Jay.”
“Mom, I want to stay up here a while longer.”
“Spring term starts in mid January. Are you planning to go to school there?”
“Yeah, maybe. Granddad said I could.”
She put her free hand to her head. Her voice was almost a whisper now. “Why are you doing this?”
“I don’t know. Maybe I don’t want to be around there to listen to you and Dad fight all the time.”
“Your Dad moved out. You know that.”
“Hasn’t stopped the fighting though, right?”
She wiped a tear from her chin and bit her lip, struggling to not let Jay know that she was crying. “I don’t hear from your Dad that often, and he doesn’t come over any more.”
“Well, maybe that’s another reason to stay up here.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning I kind’a like being around a married couple who love each other.”
“I see.” She cleared her throat. “And these new friends.”
“Yeah, they’re cool.”
I’m losing him. If I let him stay, he may never come home again. “How do my parents feel about that … you staying there?”
“They’re all right about it. They understand … you know?”
“Understand?”
“That it wasn’t very happy for me living there.”
How much of this is honest and how much is bullshit? “Things have changed here, but you know that. You weren’t happy living here because we put rules on you. That’s what you don’t like about Cottonwood.”
“That’s another thing. That fucking town is way too small.”
“Watch the language.”
“Yeah, okay. So, can I stay a while longer?”
You’re going to lose him. “How long?”
“Maybe ‘til the end of the school year. Until the summer.”
“Then what, you come back here for your senior year?”
“Yeah, that’s it. Sure. I graduate from old Cottonwood High, just like you and Dad. Carry on the family tradition and all.”
You’ve lost him. “Stay, Jay. We’ll talk later about when you’ll come home. I do want you to come home. I think your father would also like you back in Cottonwood.”
“Whatever. Thanks.”
“I miss you, son.”
“Yeah, you too. You want to speak to Granddad?”
My son’s gone. “Sure. I better check whether this arrangement is really all right with them. They may be telling you they’re okay with this to keep their only grandchild happy.”
Her father confirmed that they were glad to have Jay stay until the dust settled from the divorce. Jay seemed happy living there, he told her. He’d made friends and was often over at their houses. This revelation troubled Erika. It was a red flag for his self-destructive behavior. Too much idle time hangin’ with the homies, she thought. They confirmed that Jay wanted to get a part-time job after school, which heartened Erika. Maybe in Colorado her son would take his life and future more seriously. Still, her heart ached to have him home – in his own room.
Erika returned to the computer and began to write. What do I have to lose? I’ve lost the most important things already, haven’t I?
Chapter 47 – Max
“You have a lot of email in here, Max.” Marcie was sitting at his computer.
“I haven’t had time to answer it, Marcie … been working on the final chapters. Who’s in there I should worry about writing back?”
“Well, there’s a note from Peter, two from Doris, something from Hillary; she’s doing the film negotiations, remember? If you ever finish this book,” she whispered loud enough for him to hear. “You have three notes from someone named ‘REEKIE.’ Is that important?”
“She’s a woman I know from Cottonwood. We kind of grew up together. Leave it all. I’ll answer it later.”
Erika – It’s late, the City is resting, but it never sleeps. I never had the chance to tell you about my City. For example, it would take you two years to dine at every restaurant if you chose a different place each night. Most people know about Central Park, but don’t realize that New York City has dozens of smaller parks and gardens the length of Manhattan. It is the little things I love best about living here. Like the way light and shadow play across the landscape of the City every day … all day. It literally changes moment-to-moment. And when night falls, the pulse of New York City quickens. It shouts at you to come out and play until the sun rises again, spilling warmth and light into the canyons of textured granite and polished steel. Central Park, right outside my balcony windows, is my favorite. It defines the City and the people who live here. It’s magnificent! Sometimes, when I’m sitting on my balcony, I’d swear I smell honeysuckle blossoms that line the paths on the east side of the Park. I know that’s ridiculous. I’m too high up. But, if I close my eyes and concentrate, the aroma gets stronger and the sweet smell paints my thoughts in pastel colors. Silly, huh? Thank you for your notes ... all of them. My assistant, Marcie, and I spent the day clearing off my desk. I’m embarrassed to admit that I tend to let things pile up. Every few days she and I dig through the mounds of paper and mail. She’s much better than I am at sorting through it all. Don’t know what I’d do without Marcie. You asked, so I’ll tell you. I’m still working on the final chapters of the book. My agent, Peter, continues to tell me that he thinks it will be a hit. He has a way of knowing these things – he’s very good at his job. So, I guess I’ll have another winner … if I ever finish it. Been a while since I wrote a good seller. I was thinking tonight ... I want to thank you for helping me get to a place where I could write this book. It’s very much like the old days, isn’t it? You inspired me when we were teenagers, too. I need to warn you that the principle female protagonist in this novel is modeled heavily on you … what I know about you. I don’t think any of your friends will notice, necessarily, but you’re there ... as I see you in my mind. Thank you for that, too. If they decide to make a film of this book, who do you think should play you? I’ve been thinking Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio. She was the actress in Robinhood with Kevin Costner and The Abyss with Ed Harris. Does that meet with your approval? Actually, they never ask my opinion about these things. Just depends on who the director is and who they think should play the part. I’m sure that when you read the book ... and I hope you read it ... you’ll see yourself. The book is the reason I haven’t written you in a few days. I wanted to finish it … still working on it, though. My life is pretty much back to normal here. As I said, I love the City. You’ll have to visit someday. I have associates, but tend to keep to myself. I’m dating someone I knew casually before I returned to Cottonwood. Caroline has been a good friend for over a year now. She and I often have lunch in Central Park. She’s so very New York that she’d die if she ever had to live in a place like Cottonwood. Can you imagine people like that? Well, this note has gone on for too long. I wanted you to know that Peter, that’s my agent, has asked me to go on a brief book signing tour. They’re releasing two of my older novels in a collection and they want me to help promote it. Very unusual, really, to be promoting old stuff, but they think the collection will find a new market. Four cities in a week, he said. So, I’ll be on the road soon. It doesn’t mean I’ll be out of touch. I take a laptop along and Marcie travels with me. I insist on it. She plays a key role at these books signings. I’ll tell you about it someday. I’ll let you know when I’m hitting the road. Take care. Miss talking to you, too. – Max.
Chapter 48 – Erika
Dear Max – Your long note was wonderful. Thank you for writing so much ... and for telling me about your work and life in the city. It comes alive through your words. I would like to visit New York some day ... to visit you. Just need an invitation.
She wrote the last sentence three times, deleting it twice, but deciding finally to leave it in her note. She went on with her missive.
Marcie sounds like a gem. I can understand how important she is to your work. You’re lucky to have her. It’s nice that you have so many friends, like Caroline. I imagine a lot of people would like to be close with the famous Max Rosen. So, I’m in your new novel. I’m flattered. Were you kind? A book tour? How exciting! Will you be coming through Cottonwood? Everyone would love to see you. I’d love to see you.
She wrote the last sentence twice, deleting it only once before deciding to leave it in. It was getting harder for her to judge what to write Max. She’d learned quickly that text messages, particularly when the words are emotionally laden, are notoriously ambiguous when it came to judging what the writer was honestly trying to say. She continued.
Unlike you, I’m not into the dating scene yet. I’m happy to report that Darrell moved out of town. There aren’t too many eligible men in Cottonwood. What there is can be pretty scary ;). That’s a smiley face with a wink. Did you get it? You probably know all about these things, but I’m still learning. Such great news about the collection … the re-release of your other novels. I’d be thrilled to have Mastrantonio play me. I’m flattered you think of me that way. Do you think of me that way?
She only held her finger over the delete button for a second, and once again decided to leave it as she originally wrote it.
Not sure I have her beauty or personality. Nice, though, that you might think so. Can I ask you a personal question?
Why not, she thought. Her note was already into dangerous territory.
That night at Miriam’s house ... what did it mean to you? I mean, I know it was important ... to both of us ... but do you think badly of me because of that? Do you think badly of me because of Darrell? I guess that was two questions. Please write soon. Love your notes. – E.
Chapter 49 – Max
Max opened a note from Doris.
Yes, Max, I’ve seen Erika. She looks good. I think she’s getting on with her life. Told Mel you said to say ‘hello.’ She says ‘hi’ back at you. The housing project at Winberg Wells is going up fast. Lots of new homes and new people coming into Cottonwood. Donny got a new pickup truck. He said the old one was fine, but I convinced him that he deserved to drive something new. Mel got him a job at the construction site, so he’s making good money. Clay is still the foreman out there. Me, you ask? I’m doing fine. The bazaar was a big hit and we raised more money than last year. Thank you for inviting me to come and visit. I will do that some day, but right now I have too much to do around here. Keep your nose clean, son. Call me sometime. – Love, Doris.
Then he responded to Erika.
Dear Erika – The invitation is always open for you to visit my City. I’m certain the book tour does not include Cottonwood, but please write to me while I’m on the road. I’d love to hear from you. I’m still struggling with the final chapters of the new novel. I keep writing it, over and over, and it just doesn’t seem right. I think I’m forcing things. I need to let the story tell itself, maybe. The pickings of eligible men in Cottonwood may be slim, but I’m sure you’ll find someone someday ... don’t give up hope. On a more important note, I don’t think ill of you, and certainly not for what happened at Miriam’s house. That evening affirmed what I’ve believed all these years – that you and I once shared a great love. I’m convinced that few are fortunate to experience the depth of feeling and passion that you and I did. Powerful stuff, but very dangerous when emotions run that deep. That evening taught me that my memory of us as teenagers was not a dream, it was very real. I was certain before that night – and for many years – that my memory of us, as kids, was clouded by youthful exuberance and the thrill of experiencing a first love. Think ill of you? Impossible. I could never think badly of you. You are, simply stated, my first love. We will never find that again, and we need to celebrate that we were fortunate to find it at all. I’m convinced that we shared something that few ever have in their lives. We’re lucky, you and I, in that respect. No reason to be sad about the way things turned out, or the years lost not being together. Things are what they are. Could we appreciate what we had then if we’d never been apart? I wonder. My thoughts of you are not critical or judgmental in the least. I have nothing but the deepest admiration for you ... as an artist, as a woman, as the one true love of my life. Fondest – Max.
Max was in the groove. He’d been back in New York City for three months. His relationship with Caroline was limping along, but progressing forward enough that they were discussing moving in together. Peter’s staff gave him a week’s notice on the tour dates and locations.
