Cormorant Bay, Page 2

though, that expectations were the killer. People had them, irrepressibly, though, expectations.

  She forced a smile, hoping it would take. The drive got easier.

  She returned to the city that night. The drive in to the city was jam-packed traffic for an hour. She was sick of the gridlock and fading as she finally reached her sister’s apartment in New York City where she was staying for a few weeks. A mental image of the cormorant feeding on fish flashed through her mind as she drove into the city through the tunnel.

  It was a relief to see her sister, and to be welcomed inside into the warmth. A glass of wine and a nice dinner later, she was ready to sleep once more, and to thank ye gods for the day.

  “Thank you, Jane, you are always there for me, and I love you,” Elaine said to her sister. “It’s been a long day.”

  Elaine slept contentedly, but didn’t remember her dreams.

  The next day, the sisters awoke and went on a jog together before Karen had to go to work. Elaine was looking for a teaching job, and would be staying for a few weeks until she found something—even if it was only substituting until she could find something permanent.

  Looking for an apartment would be her next task—in New York City that was something of a task, and it was not something that she looked forward to having to do. Karen had a nice one-bedroom, and there was room for Elaine to stay for a while, but it was just a one-bedroom.

  It took two weeks for Elaine to find a substitute teaching job in the Bronx, but she finally found something. Two months later, she hadn’t yet found anything permanent, but was starting to think it was time to get an apartment of her own. Karen’s cot wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, and she enjoyed having company for a change, but Elaine needed to have her own place soon.

  Elaine was waiting for Karen to get home to tell her that she had found a new apartment later that week. She walked about the apartment and looked out at the street to see if Karen was coming—again, no sign of her. The curtains were gorgeous satin, and there was a sweet candle in the center that, half-burned, still smelled of spices.

  She returned to the kitchen, and made a healthy dinner for them both, while listening to music her sister didn’t like—of course, that would go off once Karen returned home.

  She thought again of the strange man, who still came into her thoughts when she was alone, and thought of her philosophy book collection, that had not been read in many years. Her mind wandered back once more to the trip up to Cormorant Bay. She had stopped at a nice seafood restaurant on her way to Maine, a restaurant that skirted the Atlantic Ocean, and had spent the better part of an hour watching the sailboats drift across the ocean as she wondered what it was like to sail one, for she had never done so in all her life.

  And with an ache she realized she would never know the man who haunted her, and that there was no way to know him, ever.

  She met him one night going out with one of Karen’s writer / teacher friends, Tom, who was enough younger than her that there was no possibility of a romantic relationship between them, had there been any attraction between her and Tom. Well, she supposed she and Tom technically could have a short relationship, but nothing lasting owing to the age gap between them. Yes, there really was no point in even entertaining romantic ideas of Tom, since they both had no interest in crossing the lines of convention for a lukewarm attraction, if there was one or even if one might develop between them.

  Tom was funny, interesting, and talked a lot about books and stories that he wrote, shows he watched on television, and about what he read, and she liked listening to his stories. It was always good stimulation to be with someone so full of energy and ideas, however different they were from her own.

  Tom was going to retrieve her Cosmopolitan from the bar that she had ordered. Then Elaine saw him—a medium tall, dark-haired man with dark eyes was walking around the room, and his eyes locked with hers. She felt a strange sensation, like reliving a sense memory that had made a deep impact some time in the past. The strange man looked intensely at her, then looked away and went back to his drink.

  Later, Tom noticed that she had been distracted by him.

  “You’re looking at that guy behind me. Go on over and introduce yourself.”

  “I can’t just do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because.”

  “You, Elaine, can do anything,” Tom said, with a small laugh.

  She got up and approached the stranger.

  “Hi, I’m Elaine,” she said.

  “Robert,” said the stranger. “Nice to meet you.”

  “You married, by any chance?”

  “No,” replied Robert. “You work fast.”

  “I know. Tell me, Robert, would you like to join my friend and me at our table?”

  “Hmm, I don’t know. Well, all right, Elaine. I guess it can’t hurt.”

  Robert came over and sat with Elaine and Tom.

  They talked of what they did—Robert was in advertising, and lived a mile away. Elaine invited him to come with her and Tom to the Guggenheim Museum on Sunday afternoon.

  “We’re a bit too old for a chaperone,” said Robert with a strange laugh. “But all right. I guess that would be nice.”

  Elaine fell in love with Robert gradually. He loved walks in the park on week-ends, so they made it “their place”—she liked to call it that even if there were thousands of other picnickers and people walking in Central Park on any given week-end. Robert was under a lot of stress at work, putting together a new ad campaign, and she helped him to unwind a bit every Sunday for about a month.

  After the ad campaign was finished, Elaine decided to ask Robert if he wanted to go on a week-end trip up to Maine. Robert accepted her offer, and they headed up east, though by that point, they hadn’t slept together, and this situation was likely to make that happen, given that they would be in close proximity for two days, alone in a hotel room.

  Elaine took Robert to the restaurant she had enjoyed on her last trip up the way to Maine. They had a nice time, and talked about Robert’s friend who was getting married in a few weeks. Elaine agreed to go with Robert to the wedding. Robert was two years younger than Elaine, and hadn’t been married, either. A career had always come before relationships for Robert in the past.

  “Appreciate it, Elaine. Take a good look,” said Robert suddenly.

  “A good look—at what?”

  “At the scene surrounding us. Make a memory right now, and kiss me.”

  She smiled in embarrassment, and leaned across the table to kiss him on the lips.

  “Now tell me that you love me,” said Robert. “’I love you, Robert.’” He said in a high voice.

  She laughed. “I love you, Robert.”

  They were married within a year.

  The walks together in the park were quiet, lingering. Robert was always busy—except for Sundays, and he made them special.

  Their ‘happy ever after’ continued, for now. And she fell asleep every night in his arms, feeling happy, feeling sweet.

  One evening, she looked up to the sky and wished her love again to all those whom she had ever loved. Her eyes brimmed a bit, but she moved away from the window and came back to bed.

  And then she slept.