I sat in my chair and looked around the tiny office. A room that had given me such joy this year. And also pain.
After getting some closure with Syd last week, it was easier to remember only the wonderful times in here when we would talk books, eat Peking Delight, and make love.
And this was also the room that brought me back to writing, and remembering that Icouldwrite a complete novel, not just a bunch of beginnings.
Because every good story had a beginning, a middle and an end. Even if I didn’t want my story with Syd to end, it had to. It was just too hard. There was just too much in our way, not the least of which was I was leaving Bribury in two weeks.
Yes, there would be times that she’d be in the same city as me, but as she’d pointed out many times, her New York was not my New York. I just wished I’d realized it earlier.
No. No, I didn’t mean that. It was worth it, even though it had been so hard. Yeah, definitely worth it.
I debated calling my parents, or my sister, to tell them about the book deal, but I didn’t. I wanted Syd to be the first to know, but after we’d said our final goodbyes last week it didn’t seem right. Besides, I wasn’t sure how happy she would be for me.
I decided to settle in and grade some papers, but wanted to first grab a soda from the machine down the hall. When I stepped into the hallway, I saw Jane Winters walking away from me, toward the exit. Most of the Bribury girls all looked the same from behind—long hair up or down and straightened, those legging things, brightly colored running shoes and, now that it was spring, small knit tops and light zippered hoodies. But not Jane. You could easily pick her out in the sea of Bribury co-eds.
And Syd, of course. I’d know Syd instantly even though she tried to fit the mold.
Seeing Jane reminded me of Caro Stratton’s recent passing and an interview that Caro, Joe Stratton and Jane had done, which I’d seen the other night. “Hey, Jane. Got a minute?” I said to her back, loudly enough for her to hear.
She turned, not looking shocked to see me. Yeah, she probably knew where my office was from first semester. “Sure,” she said, then made her way back to my office and through the door, which I held open for her.
I watched as her gaze quickly moved around the room, seeming to take everything in. I’d bet not much got past Jane Winters.
“The ‘Who I am Right Now’ papers?” she asked, pointing to a stack of papers yet to be graded.
“What? Oh, yeah. Not as entertaining as last semester’s batch, I’m afraid.” Jane and Syd in particular had written really insightful pieces that I still distinctly remembered. I’d felt so strongly about Jane’s that I’d talked with her briefly about it the last day of class. I’d felt so strongly about Syd’s that I’d offered her a job.
I motioned to the couch, the guest chair still having papers on it, and Jane sat down. My leather jacket was on the arm, had been there for weeks, since it had warmed up and I’d stopped wearing any jacket or coat over my sports coat. I made to move it for her, but Jane pushed it aside. A piece of fabric had obviously been underneath and it fell to the floor in front of Jane. It was the scarf I’d given Syd. She must have left it one of the last times she’d been here and it’d gotten into a crack in the couch during our lovemaking. A burst of pain swept through me. I wanted to snatch it out of Jane’s hands but didn’t want to tip her off to anything.
Which probably wasn’t going to work, given the way Jane seemed to recognize the garment. Of course she did, she lived with Syd. And the scarf wasn’t one that anybody else on this campus had. And certainly wasn’t a man’s piece of clothing, not with the feminine design. Then she brought it to her nose and I knew she was smelling Syd’s perfume.
God, did it still have her scent on it? Now I really wanted to rip it out of her hands. She handed it to me, not saying anything (yeah, Jane Winters not saying anything!), but lifting an eyebrow at me.
Busted.
“It’s, um…” Where to start. How could I possibly put my feelings for Syd into words? Me, who made my living by choosing words, who found great joy and solace in words…I just couldn’t begin to explain to Jane what I couldn’t explain to myself.
“Complicated? I’m sure it is,” Jane said.
I looked down at the scarf in my hands and willed myself not to bring it to my nose in front of Jane.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I won’t mention that I was here…to anyone.”
I nodded, getting her meaning. She wouldn’t mention to anyone about Syd and me. And she wouldn’t mention to Syd that she’d seen me nearly come to tears over a pretty piece of fabric. I put the scarf on my desk and turned back to Jane, attempting to put Syd out of my mind. Not possible, but I did want to talk to Jane about Caro.
“I saw the interview you did with the Strattons,” I said. “And I was sorry I couldn’t make it to Caroline’s funeral.” The truth was I had been so engrossed in finishingFlamesthat I wasn’t aware of it until a few days later. I had gotten together with Jason for drinks a couple of days after the funeral, while he and Betsy were still in Chesney.
“It was a nice service,” Jane said.
Jason had said the same thing. “I’m sure it was.” I leaned against my desk and crossed my ankles. “I just wanted to tell you…and I know this sounds kind of…tritecoming from me. But seeing you in that interview? I was really…proud of you, Jane.” I meant it. When I’d watched it, I no longer recognized the brash and brazen girl who’d outrageously flirted with me last fall. Jane had…found herself, as I knew she could. As I had suggested to her.
“Thanks,” she said. “Your words to me…they meant a lot. They really helped me out.”
I think she was sincere. At least there was none of her old biting sarcasm or anything. “I’m glad,” I said.
She nodded at the scarf sitting beside me. “Now maybe it’s time to take your own advice? Make it less…complicated? ‘Let the rest of the bullshit go?’” she said, throwing my words to her back at me.
“Yeah, maybe,” I said.
