The Better Half(6)
“I’m conflicted here, Nina. I’ve been on this project to open an office in the Asian Pacific since it was barely an idea years ago. And I’ve been focused on bringing it to completion no matter what. While all my friends have been busy raising their kids, this has kind of been like my kid.” Interesting, I’d never heard Leo talk about kids other than to humor me when I shared story after story about Xandra.
“Sure, I thought I would bump into problems with my visa or renting an apartment overseas, but I never imagined it might be a woman getting in my way of crossing the ocean. But it’s not forever, Nina, just four or so months.” Leo laid it all out there like the time would pass in the blink of an eye rather than acknowledging that he would be gone twice as long as we had been together.
I didn’t want to admit it, but I understood Leo’s commitment to his career. He had been working tirelessly to make his professional dream come true just as I had been meticulously laying the groundwork for years so I could someday be right where I was, head of school.
As I stared at Leo across the table, taking in this change in our trajectory, I worked to convince myself that his leaving and giving us both an easy out was probably a good move overall. The past months our visible differences in ethnicity and background were pushed aside, or, more accurately, ignored because of how hot we kept it in the bedroom. Having cheated on my personal self with my professional self the past two years, I told Marisol I was in it for the sex, plus, I would never actually date a White guy. I had never dated one before, nor did the idea take up any space on my bucket list. But then Leo gave me an incredible midlife summer of love, and our budding affair along with my new job were positive signs, so I thought that maybe the second half of my life would be the best half of my life. Now, facing our realities, I could see Leo’s profession would always come first, a male tale I was all too familiar with.
“I want to have a memorable last two weeks with you and, if you’re up for it, we could make a go of it long distance. You’re the best thing to happen to me in a long time, Nina. I want to see how this goes.”
I remember smiling at Leo, touched by his naivete at how difficult this would be, but agreeing to try, not wanting to crush his optimism. My cynical side gave it three weeks.
His days would be my nights, and I love my sleep. An ocean away, Leo would be buried in opening a law office, and at home I would be buried in opening a school year. Leo would always be White. And I would always be Black. Add that to a host of other differences between us, and the distance seemed insurmountable. Right there, over soy-soaked wasabi, I was positive we’d fizzle out sooner rather than later.
Being late to take him to the airport today was not part of my plan to send Leo off to Singapore with an unforgettable goodbye. Reaching his side slightly sweaty, out of breath, and muttering “Sorry” is next-level tragic. Leo looks like he might dump me by takeoff.
“Nina, I told you if you couldn’t take me to the airport today, it’s no big deal, I’d grab an Uber. I’ve called you five times, and you didn’t even pick up your phone.” Leo’s jaw is clenched, and he’s pointing at the time on his watch. Late to get Leo, I ran out of Royal-Hawkins so fast I left my phone on my desk. This is not how I wanted our last hour together to be.
“You’re twenty minutes late, and you know how I feel about being rushed for the airport. Especially flying international.” To be fair to me, Leo and I have not flown together, so I’ve yet to see his type A travel habits in action. We’d only talked about the possibility of going somewhere someday.
Leo opens his hand, palm up, in a signal to hand over the key fob. He pops the trunk and in eight swift moves loads his luggage. Instead of giving me the keys so I can drive him to the airport and wish him bon voyage with a rom-com-worthy kiss, I’m met with, “Get in. I’ll drive.”
In the passenger seat, I don’t know what to do with my hands. Leo grips the steering wheel in a way that doesn’t look like he wants to hold one of them. Minutes tick by without us exchanging a word.
“Let’s call Marisol, I want to say goodbye to her,” Leo says, softening a bit, and points to his cell phone on the center console. Marisol’s always my best asset.
“I’m pretty sure she’s in meetings all afternoon, but I know she’d love a voice mail from you,” I offer.
“Never mind. I’ll shoot her a text from the airport. This morning she texted and bet me twenty dollars you’d be late picking me up. I told her no way; you’d want every last moment you could possibly squeeze out of me.”
Jeez, is Leo not going to let this one go before he gets on a plane and leaves me?
“So, you need to pay her twenty bucks. I’m not forking over cash for your bad habits,” he teases. The sides of Leo’s mouth turn up slightly, and I sense him relaxing.
“Funny, you don’t call my lateness a bad habit when I’m tardy to work so we can get in a morning quickie,” I throw out, hoping a little humor from my end will be well received. Leo booms out a hearty laugh, and just like that I’m done with driver’s detention.
“You know we’re going to have to get creative with me in Singapore and you in Pasadena, right?” Leo winks at me as he accelerates through the last yellow light to make it to the freeway on-ramp.
“I don’t know how creative I can be in my office. When you’ll be getting home in the evenings, I’ll be arriving at work. I can’t get freaky in the main office; Mimi has impeccable hearing.”