read “Little Bit” here 

Thursday, 8:00am.  My cellphone sat on the island countertop.  I’d been pacing around my kitchen while I waited for the coffee to brew and while I drank it.  I was stalling, debating on a second cup when the phone buzzed to life.

“Lena Smith.” I gave the same answer no matter who called.

“Did you talk to him yet?” Marie was barely audible over the sound of Manhattan traffic in the background.

“No, I haven’t, but I was about to,” I lied.

“Marlena, it’s been a week.  Either call the man or don’t, but make a decision and be done with it one way or the other.  You know you want to, so stop bullshitting.”

“You’re right. I should just get it over with. I’ll call you back later.”  I hung up and poured myself another cup of coffee as I dialed. It went straight to voicemail.

“You’ve reached Eric McKinsey, I’m unable to take this call, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”

 I knew that his assistant would be checking his voicemail, so I kept it brief. “Eric, it’s Lena Smith. Enjoyed catching up with you last week, give me a call when you can.” I brought my coffee to the bedroom, sat on the bed, and stared at the closet.  When I first moved in, a telephone booth was more spacious.  But with a lot of patience and a contractor that was like a magician, I had a closet I could be proud to hold my beloved handbags and shoes.  It was definitely worth the small fortune I spent to have a storage space as large as most New York City bedrooms.

I didn’t realize that I was daydreaming until the phone rang.  15 minutes, I thought to myself, not bad.

 “Lena Smith.”

“Ms. Smith?”  There was a shrill voice on the other end. “This is Samantha from Mr. McKinsey’s office.

She must be new.  On top of always sounding stressed, Mack’s staff always sounded impatient, like they have far more important things to deal with than talk directly to a person who doesn’t have an assistant of their own.  I know Mack conditioned them to be that way, but I don’t have patience for the foolishness.

“Yes, Samantha how can I help?” I was annoyed that I was back on the list of people who were screened.

“Mr. McKinsey got your message and would like to invite you to dinner this evening. “  She didn’t take a breath and continued, “Does 6:30 at Montebello Ristorante work for you?”

“No actually I can’t do dinner.  How about lunch?”  I almost felt sorry for the girl, but she was going to have to learn.

“Well, actually, Mr. McKinsey can’t do lunch, he’s a very busy man.”  She was trying to intimidate me.  How cute.

It occurred to me that Samantha had no idea who I was or what my relationship with Mack was, but she was so damn patronizing I had to set her up to be taken down a notch.  “No worries! Tell Eric that I’ll be travelling for the next three weeks and we can have lunch when I get back ok? Thanks for calling Samantha, bye!”  I hung up before she realized what had happened.

I hated being placed back in this position.  I thought that after the divorce was finalized I wouldn’t have to deal with Mack and his entourage anymore.  How could he assume that I would have dinner with him?  I should have been blown away by how presumptuous he was being, but it really was the same old Mack.  I also knew that he was probably reading that girl the riot act and she would call me back shortly.  My phone rang again.

“Yes, Samantha?”

“Ms. Smith, can you hold for Mr. McKinsey?”  She was near tears.

“Yes, put him through.”  There was a half second pause before I heard that voice again.

“Lena.  Why are you abusing my support staff?”  His smile was audible.  It disarmed me, eased me back into the banter of when we were first married.  I imagined him standing in his corner office on the 25th floor, staring out of the window overlooking Lexington Avenue.  I knew that was his favorite.  I wondered if he ever thought of the times that we spent in there, indulging in equal parts work and pleasure. And much as I was trying not to, the thoughts had worked their way to the front of my mind.

“I would never abuse your staff.  I’m simply giving her a learning exercise in how to talk to people.  And before you even ask, no Mack, I will not have dinner with you.”

“Please Lena.  We need to see each other but I already have a lunch I can’t cancel. ” His voice had gone firm, and I knew that he wouldn’t accept no for an answer.

“Lunch is an hour. Dinner is two hours.  We can have drinks tonight at Gemma for 45 minutes, or you can wait three weeks.”  I felt myself returning to normal, and this powwow was going to be on my terms or not at all.

“Done. Good negotiating Smith, I taught you well. See you then.”  He hung up, and as comfortable as my bed was, I had to get up and start my day.

Three conference calls and two client meetings later, I was in a cab to meet Mack.  It was my intention to be there early so that I could leave five minutes after the designated time.  As on time as he was in his professional life, he was notoriously late on his personal time.  I walked in to the restaurant, comforted by the smells of good food.  I was headed to the bar when the manager flagged me down and brought me to a table where Mack was already seated.  Disguising my surprise, I waited for the manager to walk away with before I spoke to Mack.

“We said drinks.” I folded my jacket and put it on top of my bag, just in case I needed to make a quick getaway.

“Yes, I know how much time I have, but I thought we could use some privacy.” He was swirling the olives in his martini, and I saw something in him I hadn’t seen in a very long time.  He was anxious.

“You’re right.  So what did you want to talk about?” I wanted us to remain focused.

“Us, Lena. What else would I want to talk about?” He put his hands on the table and I saw that wedding band again.  It was taunting me.

At that moment, a waiter silently appeared with an apple martini for me.  I thanked him, and he disappeared.  I took a grateful sip, and tried to compose my thoughts.  I was looking around at the restaurant; all warm and cozy, and wondered if any other patrons were having such a weighted conversation.

“Mack, there is no us.  There hasn’t been an us for eighteen months now.  The only reason that we’re here now is because we slipped up and had sex last week.”

“No, we’re here because I finally did something I should have done long ago. I chased after you. I shouldn’t have let you leave before, and I don’t want you to leave again. And admit. You enjoyed it.”  There was a smirk on his face.

This was going nowhere.  I finished my martini and gathered my things. “I’ve always enjoyed sex with you, but as we both know, sex is hardly enough to sustain a marriage.  Let’s just leave it at that.”  I stood to leave.  “Thanks for the drink.”

I walked out of the restaurant feeling better.  I knew that I could get home without needing to catch a cab or being escorted by Mack.  A weight had been lifted off my shoulders and I felt much freer than ever before.  I couldn’t wait to get home.  I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket, but knowing it was Mack I chose to ignore it.

A few minutes later I was in my apartment.  My phone vibrated again, but this time I turned my phone off.   I needed a night to myself. The upcoming work projects I had were going to be exhausting and I wanted to savor all the quiet moments that I had.  I was about to draw a bath when my doorbell rang.  Fuck.

“Who is it?” I asked even though I knew who it was.  There was only one person bold enough to drop by unannounced.

“It’s me Lena.”  He must have sensed my hesitation because he added, “Let me in please.”

I opened the door.  “If you’re going to drop by unannounced like this I’m going to have to move.”

He eased passed me and took of his coat.  “Well, I bought you this apartment.  I can’t drop by to see where my money went?”

I was incensed.  “Actually, the terms of the pre-nup that YOU violated bought this apartment.  And if you ever bring that up again so help me-“

“So help you what Lee? You’ll actually have to deal with what happened between us?”

“I don’t have to take this shit from you. Get the fuck out.”  I walked past him and opened the door.

“Lena, I fucked up.  I had an affair. I think about that shit everyday. ”  He was trying to walk towards me, to embrace me, but I couldn’t let him touch me.

“Get out Eric. Just get out.”

He sat on a barstool near the kitchen.  “No Marlena.  I’m not leaving, and this time you aren’t either.  Let’s talk about this.”

How dare he? Who the fuck did he think he was to talk to me in my home like this? I couldn’t stop the anger rising inside me. I lost it.  “GET THE FUCK OUT ERIC!” I was throwing things at him; shoes, keys, whatever I got my hands on, I threw.  I was screaming and crying, telling him to get out.  I hated myself for losing control, for crying in front of my ex.  The more upset I got at myself, the more I cried.

He came to me, trying to embrace me, but not before I balled my fists and tried to hit him a few times. It was a pathetic attempt at violence.  In one fluid move, he picked me up and carried me to the sofa, closing the door behind us with his foot.  I was sobbing now, the last of my guard down.  There were tears for our marriage, our divorce, and all the emotions I’d managed to ignore in between.

Like so many times before, Mack held me then, rubbing my back and telling me everything was going to be ok.  I didn’t believe him this time, but I tried to pretend.

A few minutes later, I was able to breathe regularly and talk to Mack.  “Lena, why didn’t you come back to talk about what happened?”

“My pride wouldn’t let me. I felt betrayed by the one person who was never supposed to betray me.  Even if I wanted to come back, which I did, I couldn’t allow myself to do it.  I just had to figure out a way to get over this without you.”  I got up to make a pot of tea, and allow us both some time with our own thoughts.

Mack followed me into the kitchen.  It was barely big enough for me, and it felt like he was everywhere.  My emotions were running high and I needed space to think clearly.  I turned to reach into the cupboard for a mug and bumped right into Mack’s chest.

“Look you have to give me some space.  You really need to go.”

“Only if you promise to see me when you get back.”  He kissed me softly on the lips.

“Get back?” I remembered the lie I told Samantha earlier. “Oh, I’m not going anywhere.”

He laughed, “You little sneak.” I let him kiss me again. Last one, I thought to myself.  I went to kiss him, but there was a knock at the door.

I looked at my watch, it was a little after 8.  All at once everything became clear.  I knew what was about to happen but couldn’t stop it.  I walked past Mack and opened the door.

“Babe, where’ve you been? I thought something had happened to you, you always answer the phone.”  He walked in the door and hugged me tight, dropping his leather suitcase at the coat closet door.  It wasn’t until he let me go that he saw Mack.  “Oh, hey man, what’s up?”  He extended his hand to Mack who was walking towards him.

The look on Mack’s face as he walked forward to shake the stranger’s hand was a combination of confusion and contempt.  “Eric McKinsey.”

I cut in, “Eric McKinsey, meet my boyfriend Lawrence Simmons. Lawrence Simmons, my ex-husband Eric McKinsey.”  The tension in the room was making it hard for me to breathe.

“Was I interrupting something?” Lawrence was searching my face for traces of what the situation was, but I had nothing to give him.

“No, I was actually just leaving.  Lena, I’ll talk to you next week.”  Mack put his coat on, and walked to the door. “Very nice to meet you Lawrence.”

I closed the door behind Mack and turned to face Lawrence.  He hugged me again.  After a long embrace he finally pulled away, looked me deep in the eyes and said, “Now exactly what the fuck did I just walk into?”

To be continued…