There was something about her that matched me. I might not have realized it at first, or maybe I only recognized it subconsciously, but she understood me. She also had struggled with commitment and trusting that any relationship could be successful for the long-term. I knew she understood as soon as she explained her own past at the barbecue.
It was cheesy, but that kind of stuff must be what people mean when they talk about “soulmates” and all that other shit. Or at least, I used to think it was bullshit. Now everything had shifted. With the right person, I didn’t have to feel fear. History didn’t have to repeat itself. I wasn’t going to walk in and find Claire in someone else’s arms. It was true, she might hurt me in other ways, but she wasn’t the type of person to cheat. She wasn’t like that.
I would never cheat on her, and I would do everything I could to avoid hurting her. There was risk, of course. I knew there was always a risk, I hadn’t lost all my powers of reason and logic. I just now understood that the reward was worth the risk.
I was grateful for my mother and Sara, in a twisted sort of way. If they hadn’t shown me all the ways a relationship could get fucked up, if they hadn’t made me wary of committing, I might not have found Claire. I might have jumped into some lesser relationship and not been at the Blue Dog Saloon on that fateful night.
Now I was musing about things like fate and destiny. This truly was a bizarre turn of events. I didn’t care though. I was happy.
I remembered something my mother had once said to me, back after I watched the fourth or fifth guy leave her high and dry. I was a bit older then, almost out of high school, and I had started talking back to her.
She was sulking in the kitchen, downing a bottle of cheap wine and calling the guy over and over, leaving weepy voicemails. I could hear the spiraling through my bedroom wall. At last, I stormed into the kitchen.
“He’s not coming back,” I said. “Just like the last one, and the one before that.”
My mother didn’t even argue or respond. She just stared ahead in miserable silence.
“You’re weak,” I told her. “And you keep making the same mistakes – when will you learn your lesson?”
As soon as I said it, I felt bad. The anger trickled out of me, and I deflated. I didn’t apologize though. Everything I had said was true.
After a few moments of silence, when I was about to turn around and leave my mother to her agony, she spoke.
“You’ll understand someday,” she said. “You’ll understand when you meet someone who makes the very ground shift beneath your feet. After that, the whole world is different.”
I scoffed and returned to my room. I didn’t want to hear any more about whatever sappy movie my mother had gotten that line out of.
That was after Sara, and she certainly had not changed my worldview. Nothing earth-shaking about her, except for how she proved that love couldn’t be trusted. I doubted my mother even meant what she said. She couldn’t possibly want me to end up like her.
Now, as I finished the scrambled eggs for Claire, I thought I might see what my mother had been trying to say. It wasn’t just love or lust or even respect. There was something else with Claire, a way she seemed to make everything a brighter color when she was around. When I was with her, I saw an entirely different future for myself, and I liked it far better than anything else I had seen.
Quite simply, Claire had changed my worldview. The ground had moved, but it wasn’t caving in. There was no avalanche. It had shifted before I even realized it and resettled, and now I found myself on better footing. The earth was solid beneath me, but I could see everything better from my new vantage point.
There was an overwhelming urge to swing by to see my mom today. I wasn’t about to say that I was wrong about everything, or that she had made amazing decisions, but I was willing to at least sympathize with where she had been coming from. She must have experienced something like what I had with Claire at least once, and she had longed for it so much that she kept trying to get that feeling back.
Now that I knew what it was like to have someone who made you hope for a better life, I could see why she had rushed into relationships so fast. I didn’t know if I would be able to say all that, but I could at least smile at her. Ask how she was doing. Maybe even introduce her to Claire.
My mom would love to hear PI stories from Claire – she adored reality TV and soap operas. Claire would be happy to regale her with some drama-filled anecdotes. We could even have dinner together, just us three. It would be the first quality time I had spent with my mother in a long while.
With the eggs done, I set to work on a few strips of bacon. While they cooked, I grabbed plates and utensils. I had to open and close a few cabinets before I found the right one. I felt a little bad touching Claire’s things without her there. Obviously, there was nothing scandalous in her kitchen, but I didn’t want to be a snoop.
It had been so long since I had spent any non-bedroom time in a woman’s apartment. I was unused to the rituals. But I could adapt. Claire and I would figure it out, one step at a time.
I put the eggs and bacon onto a plate, poured the coffee into a mug, and took a second to marvel at my handiwork. Who knew I would prove so good at love and relationships?
I froze, my hand holding the coffee pot suspended in mid-air. Was it love? Was I ready to call it that? I couldn’t say for certain. I knew I cared about Claire more than anyone I had ever met. I knew I wanted to try with her. Like I had told her at the barbecue, I wanted to attempt to find the real deal. The whole shebang.
I hadn’t said those words lightly. I hadn’t meant that I wanted to date seriously for a few months or years. I meant forever. What was the point of trying if it wasn’t forever?
Claire had understood that, I was certain. Even so, I didn’t know if I was ready to say love. That was another heavy word, one I might save for a later day. I was on my way there, though, that was for certain. And I was definitely in the fast lane.
Not today, but someday, I would tell her.
The thought didn’t terrify me. In fact, it made me smile.
I left the food on the counter and moved to clear her small kitchen table. I was excited to wake her up and watch her guzzle her coffee and just talk with her a bit.
I pushed a few books and newspapers to one side of the table and grabbed her big purse from a chair. I just planned to move it to the couch really quickly, but it was placed sideways on the chair. When I picked it up, a dark green notebook fell to the floor.
