Along for the Ride(84)

I waited a beat or two before asking, ‘Did she actually say that, though?’

‘Of course not!’ he snapped. ‘But in marriage, all is subtext, Auden. The fact of the matter is that in her mind, I have failed her and Thisbe. From day one, apparently.’

‘So you try again,’ I said. ‘And do better.’

He gave me a sad look. ‘It’s not that easy, honey.’

‘What’s the alternative, though? Just staying here, alone?’

‘Well, I don’t know.’ He got off the bed, walking over to the window and sliding his hands in his pockets. ‘I certainly don’t want to make things any worse than I already have. It’s possible they’d be better off without me. Even probable.’

I felt my stomach twist, unexpectedly. ‘I doubt that,’ I said. ‘Heidi loves you.’

‘And I her,’ he said. ‘But sometimes, love isn’t enough.’ The weird thing was that what bothered me most about him saying this was that it was such a lame, throwaway line. He was a great writer: I knew he could do better.

‘I’ve got to go to work,’ I said, picking up my bag from the bed beside me. ‘I just… I wanted to see how you were.’

He walked over to me, pulling me close for a hug. I could feel that beard, itchy and out of place, rubbing my forehead as he murmured, ‘I’m okay. I’ll be okay.’

Outside, I walked to the elevator and hit the button, which did not light up. I hit it again. Nothing. Then I stepped closer, and bashed it with my fist.

I realized – as it finally lit up, and fast – that I was furious. No: heart-pounding, can’t-even-think-straight pissed off. When I got inside the elevator, the doors closed, mirroring my reflection back at me. This time, I looked at myself full-on.

It was the strangest thing, to be suddenly infuriated, like something he’d said, or done, had uncapped a valve within me, long sealed, and suddenly something was shooting out, gushing like a geyser. As I crossed the lobby to the boardwalk, all I could think was that regardless of the performance I’d just witnessed, it didn’t make you noble to step away from something that wasn’t working, even if you thought you were the reason for the malfunction. Especially then. It just made you a quitter. Because if you were the problem, chances were you could also be the solution. The only way to find out was to take another shot.

I was almost to Clementine’s before I realized how fast I was walking, passing people on both sides. When I finally pushed the door open, I was breathing so heavily and so flushed that Maggie jumped, startled, when she saw me.

‘Auden?’ she said. ‘What’s –’

‘I need a favor,’ I told her.

She blinked at me. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘What is it?’

When I told her, I expected her to be confused. Or maybe laugh at me. But she did neither. She just considered it for a moment, and then nodded. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘I can do that.’





Chapter





FIFTEEN

It was, to say the least, embarrassing.

‘Now, see,’ Maggie said as I got up off the ground, ‘that’s what we don’t want to happen.’

‘Got it.’ I looked down, noting my newly scraped knee, which now matched my other one. ‘I just… it feels so weird.’

‘I bet.’ She sighed. ‘I mean, there’s a reason you’re supposed to learn this when you’re little.’

‘Less self-conscious?’

‘Less distance to fall.’

She reached down, picking up the bike and putting it back into a standing position. Once more, I climbed on, resting my feet flat on the ground. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Try again.’

We were at the clearing by the jump park, bright and early the following morning, and one thing was now clear: I did not know how to ride a bike.

If I had, it would have come back to me, along with the confidence that I did know what to do once I was up on the pedals and rolling forward. Instead, each time I got moving – even at a snail’s pace – I panicked, wobbled, and fell. I’d managed to go about forty yards once, but only because Maggie was holding on to the back of the seat. As soon as she let go, I veered off into some bushes and wiped out once more.

Of course I wanted to quit. I had since the first wreck, which had been over an hour earlier. It was completely humiliating to have to keep picking myself up off the ground and wiping sand and gravel off my knees, not to mention facing Maggie’s cheerful, go-team expression, which was usually paired with a thumbs-up, even after I’d gone down hard. This was just such a simple thing. Little kids did it every day. And yet, I kept failing. And falling.

‘You know,’ she said, after the next crash, which involved full-body contact with a garbage can, yuck, ‘I’m thinking I’m approaching this the wrong way.’

‘It’s not you,’ I told her, picking up the bike again. ‘It’s me. I’m terrible at this.’

‘No, you’re not.’ She smiled at me, which made me feel even more pathetic. ‘Look, riding a bike involves a great deal of faith. I mean, you’re not supposed to be able to be aloft on two skinny rubber tires. It goes against all logic.’

‘Okay,’ I said, picking some gravel off my elbow, ‘now you’re really being condescending.’