Emily imagined herself in Mexico, on the beach, in the sun. She imagined herself on stage again. She imagined making music with Rob. The counseling center was open over break, but almost all the students had canceled. They were going to do some professional-development thing that she could easily miss tomorrow—especially if she was taking a leave, which she was still planning to do, whether Ezra liked it or not.
She passed by the S train, which would take her near Penn Station. From there it was easy to get to JFK. She imagined herself on a balcony overlooking the beach and felt the tension she’d been carrying in her shoulders release.
“There’s a separate bedroom and bathroom?” she confirmed.
“There is,” he said. “The villa is two floors, one’s on each.”
“And I would play?” She wondered if this was her chance to give it a try, to see how she felt performing, to figure out if pursuing music was worth risking her marriage, risking the life she’d built for the last decade.
“For as many songs as you’d like,” he answered.
Emily found herself nodding. Maybe she’d try it and hate it, and then she could go back to Ezra and tell him that he was right, that she’d figure out how to get her focus back at NYU, that she’d find a way to work through her fears and her failures. Every choice you make is the one you’re supposed to make rang softly in her head.
She cleared her throat. “Okay,” she said, glad that she’d grabbed the duffel bag that she always traveled with, the one that she kept her passport zipped into so she’d never forget it in a desk drawer, like a friend of hers in grad school had once done on a trip to Morocco. “I’m coming. But I’ve got my ticket. I don’t need you to pay.”
“Are you serious?” Rob asked, his voice surprised. “You’re really coming?”
“As serious as a dirge,” she told him. “I’ll call again when I know what flight I’ll be on.”
“I’ll be waiting,” Rob answered.
Then they hung up. Emily almost couldn’t believe what she’d just agreed to. But she needed this. She needed to see. Without giving herself a chance to change her mind, she opened up the web browser on her phone and bought herself a ticket to Mexico with the debit card for her solo account. Then she stared at her phone for a moment, not actually believing she’d done it. What was she thinking?
Music, she reminded herself. She was thinking about music. She was going to perform on stage. In Mexico. With Rob. And then she’d know how it felt. If it was as powerful now as she thought it would be.
When the confirmation email arrived, Emily texted her sister: Change of plans, she wrote. I’m going to Mexico for a couple of days. I’ll call from there. Love you. Then she turned off her phone. She knew Ari wouldn’t approve, knew she’d ask questions that Emily wasn’t ready to answer. She’d call Ari when she got there.
Emily swiped her MetroCard for the shuttle and started her adventure.
49
Emily waited in line to board her plane, still convincing herself that this was the right choice. She’d told herself that when she’d showed up at JFK, when she quickly checked in for her flight, when she raced through security. And she kept telling herself that when she made it to the end of the line just as her boarding group was called.
Sitting in row 17, seat B, she was still having second thoughts.
But the music was calling to her. She needed to find out if she should really resurrect her dream. If this life was what she wanted.
She wondered what Dr. West would make of this. What would Emily herself think if a patient had told her this story? Reckless behavior, poor decision making. She’d wonder about bipolar disorder, but she didn’t fit the rest of the criteria for that. Maybe some sort of postmiscarriage hormone imbalance. Or a not-quite midlife crisis. Or maybe she was simply calling out for attention, calling out for help.
She should go back into therapy. When she got back, she would. She needed help, the same way she did when she was in college. But that was for later. For now, she was going to play music in Mexico.
She turned her phone back on to call Priya before takeoff, not looking at or listening to the messages from Ari. She left Priya a voice mail: “I’m going to be gone tomorrow, maybe the next day. There’s a lot to talk about. Sorry I’m missing the staff development thing. I went to Mexico.” Then she turned her phone off again.
Emily wondered if Priya would guess the truth, that she was somewhere with Rob, or if she would assume that Emily and Ezra had gone for a quick trip together to patch things up after losing the baby. That was what she should be doing. But the thought of fighting with him right now was too overwhelming—what if they reached the end of the argument and she lost him completely? What if their relationship changed in a way she didn’t want? She knew that difficult circumstances either pulled people together or broke them apart. That two people had to consciously decide to make things work. Was she deciding not to make this work? Or was this just a step on her journey of figuring out what she wanted to make work? How to make things work?