A sinking green

You can find the first part of this story, Greener Grass, in my right sidebar under I Like To Write.

*****

Tamara walked awhile. She passed overflowing dumpsters in alleys and delis the size of closets and flocks of glistening pigeons and a guy with an orange t-shirt that said, in stenciled letters, Support Your Local Midwives. 

Neon lights illuminated dark doorways of bars, even though it was middle of the day.

She found she couldn't go as far as she could before the D&C of a couple days ago. She was sore. And tired. She stopped and sat on a bench along a strip of grass that was less a park and more an optimistic belt of green.

She thought of Craig when she looked at it. At his preposterous pride in his lawn. At his preposterousness in general. What had she been doing with him? What kind of game did she think she was playing?

It hadn't even been enjoyable. Oh sure, there were moments of excitement, a rush from doing something she wasn't supposed to, and occasional bursts of physical pleasure.

But the first time they'd had sex was anticlimactic: a casual, shrugging flop onto his couch while the kids were off at school. It had been that, rather than a gasping, elated falling into each other. And, if someone were going to risk everything, they should at least do it for the joy. Not for the debauchery alone.

A woman cruised by in a motorized wheelchair, one rear wheel spinning in circles as if it belonged on an old shopping cart.

Tamara stared after her until she was lost to the crowd of pedestrians. She wished she'd bought a scone at the coffee shop. But she'd been too desperate to leave Paul and Cornelia to their new love. 

So she sat there, hungry, thinking that she should count her money and see what she had left. See if she could even afford to buy scones.

The woman in Milwaukee, the one who'd given her the cash–-Tamara would like to thank her again. She'd like to be able to talk to her. 

Tamara couldn't talk to her more, because she'd come to New York with a belief that what she was doing had to be done and that the woman understood and so Tamara was going for both of them. Was heading off in search of...something. Now, though, that didn't seem enough. It seemed, in fact, ridiculously self-indulgent. And she hadn't gotten a phone number. Or even a name.

*****

She expected Brad's apartment to be empty, for Brad to be at the agency where he designed web sites. But, when she came through the door, using the key she and Paul shared, he was in the kitchen, pouring cereal and milk into a bowl.

Tamara crept to the couch and sat down, grateful to be somewhere soft.

Brad carried his bowl to an Ikea chair, a PO
ÄNG, she thought they were called, and shoveled spoonfuls into his mouth. 

A band she'd never heard (unsurprisingly) played through ceiling-mounted speakers. On an open laptop resting on the coffee table, she watched the equalizer and saw that the name of the band was Chairlift. The music was dancey and light-hearted. Completely at odds with how she felt and with how Brad looked.

She watched him lift his spoon to his mouth, milk running back into the bowl and the occasional rogue bran flake sticking to his chin before he knocked it off with his thumb. Over and over, the same gestures. Until he finally noticed her.

He set his bowl aside, swallowed with some effort, and said, "Where's Paul?"

"With Cornelia."

"Ah," Brad nodded. "Lucky bastard."

Tamara asked, "You like Cornelia?"

He shrugged. "Yeah. I mean, she's sweet and cool. She's from the Midwest but doesn't make it back there. She's kind of...wholesome. You know. Compared to some of the other chicks you meet in this city."

"Oh, come on," Tamara said. "In a place this size. There's gotta be all kinds."

Brad leaned forward and tapped the sound button on his laptop, raising the volume of Chairlift.

Over the music, he said, "I'm sure there are. It's just finding them that's the issue."

He jumped up then. "Want to see something?"

Tamara nodded.

Brad disappeared into his room and when he came back, he held the Crown Royale sack she'd found in his dresser drawer. He pulled it open and dumped the ring into his palm. He handed it to her.

"Gigantic," Tamara said, turning it over and around. "What's it for?"

"For Paul to give Cornelia."

Something sunk inside Tamara. It wasn't jealousy, exactly. She barely knew Paul. She wasn't sure, though, what else it could be.

She slipped the ring onto her finger. It clicked against her wedding band. She asked, "Why do you have it?"

He sighed, paced around the room and said, "It's a long, convoluted story having to do with my brother and his friend and his friend's grandma. But Paul sent me the money and I got it and the ring's waiting. Waiting for the right moment."

"Why are you so...hyper?" He reminded her of Eli after he'd eaten a cupcake.

"It's the cereal. Full of whole grains and shit. It gets me going."

"Are you taking the day off?"

"Nah, I just got fired."

"What?" Tamara said. "Why?"

He stopped pacing and looked at her pointedly. "That's another long, convoluted story."

"I've got time," she said. Because what else was she going to do with her day? Search for a job? Look online at bus schedules to Milwaukee? Find her way back to one of those bars and drink?

"I can't," Brad said. "It's, you know, a terrible economy and then there's some other stuff I don't want to get into. Personnel stuff."

"That's fine. I'm just some stranger mooching off you right now. You certainly don't owe me anything. But if you want to talk, I'd like to listen. That's about all I've got to offer. An ear."

Brad nodded. Handsome, young Brad, with no Cornelia of his own.

Tamara said, "In the meantime, would you mind if I had a bowl of that cereal?"

Comments

[M]

I can visualize all the NY stuff. Great description. I'm thinking that it's time for Tamara to give up the 20's stuff and go home and be a grown up.

[elisha]

Just wanted to post and let you know I'm all wrapped up in Greener Grass, as well. I agree with M; I'm losing sympathy for Tamara.

[kcinnova]

Okay, Tamara...listen to Brad and find yourself!
(Do we have a theme going here or what?!)

Sorry I'm late in getting here. Darn feeds link didn't tell me you'd updated. *sigh*

[kcinnova]

I'm trying to place all this on a timeline, but I've lost track of time. How long as she been staying at Brad's apartment? Has it been a week? Or longer?