Bad Luck

"It sounds like R.J. is a great guy--and it also sounds like he's hanging in there. If he's still coming to have dinner with you, he hasn't given up on you. Just got to keep working at it, Maggie. Don't lose hope."

She sighed, and gave him a somewhat tear-stained smile. "Thank you, Eric. You are a true friend. I can't tell you how great it is to see you again!" She gave him another hug, and then stood up.

"Listen, it's really late--why don't you just stay here in the guest room? It's rainy and awful outside and both of us have had a fair amount of wine. I can get you a cab back in the morning."

In no time she had Eric comfortably settled in the guest room, and with one more affectionate hug they said good night.

********

It was the next morning, Wednesday, when R.J. awoke early; something was different. He couldn't tell if he'd had some significant dream--if so, he didn't remember any of it--but he felt as though he'd reached a decision.

Standing in the shower, the water pouring down on his head, he found himself thinking, "fuck it--I miss her. I'm sick of this lonely little apartment, and I'm ready to go home and put my marriage back together."

Being a man who thought things through, he argued with himself as he dried and dressed.

"Did she do something absolutely inexcusable? Yes. But she's freely admitted that, and apologized again and again. Do I think she'd ever do it again? No, I don't.

"And has she tried everything she can to make it up to me? Yes: she's been patient and loving, she hasn't rushed me, she's been seeing that Roberta to keep working on her temper.

"What else could I have asked her to do?"

R.J. looked at the clock as he drank his coffee. "If I hurry up and shave I can be at the house by 7:45; that should be early enough to catch her before she leaves for work. I'll leave all my junk here for now; I can come back and pack it up tonight."

With a smile on his face, R.J. grabbed his wallet and cell phone and headed out the door. What he was about to do felt good--it felt right.

********

Eric sat across the table from Maggie in her kitchen, as they drank their coffee. It was 7:25.

"Did you sleep okay?" she asked. "I called you a cab for 7:45, so you'll have plenty of time to get back and get yourself cleaned-up before your meetings."

Eric smiled back at her. "I slept great, Maggie. And I can't tell you how wonderful it's been, this chance to see you again and catch up on all those years."

They talked for a little while longer, and at 7:43 Maggie glanced out the window and saw that the cab was waiting.

On the front step, Eric in yesterday's suit but Maggie still in her bathrobe, they shared a kiss and a long hug. They agreed that they'd stay in touch now, having swapped email addresses. They wished each other well, and he said again he hoped everything worked out with her and R.J.

Then, as he turned to go, she said, "thanks so much for your support, Eric!" And she hugged him one more time.

It was just two dear friends saying goodbye. But that's not how it looked, certainly not how it would have looked to Irene Dunston, the widow who lived across the street. She was the unofficial gossip queen of the neighborhood--and it would have given her enormous pleasure to share the news of Maggie's "friend" seen leaving her house early in the morning, having clearly just spent the night.

But by bad luck--at least for Irene--she was away in Atlanta, staying with her younger daughter who had just had her first child. So there was no one who actually saw Maggie's goodbye to her friend.

********

Dammit! R.J. pounded on the steering wheel in frustration. It was 7:38 and his progress towards home was blocked by a Ryder truck double-parked in front of a store on North High St. Traffic was backed-up in both directions, as only one car at a time could squeeze by.

Of all the bad luck! Now that he'd made up his mind, R.J. was eager to see Maggie, to tell her his decision. At this rate he might miss her--she might be on her way to work by the time he got there.

********

Maggie went back into the house and got herself a bowl of cottage cheese and fruit to go with her second cup of coffee. She smiled to herself--it had been a lovely surprise to see Eric, and how nice that they were able to renew their friendship so easily.

She looked forward to telling R.J. all about it--and then suddenly her happiness was gone. She wondered whether she'd ever get the chance, whether she and R.J. would ever be together again. "Don't give up"--that was the advice both Eric and Roberta had given her. Well, she'd do her best.

She was surprised to hear the sound of the front door opening, and then before she could do more than stand up R.J. was coming into the kitchen, looking harried and angry.

"Goddam traffic," he said angrily. "I wanted to be here by 7:45; I was afraid I'd missed you."

"What is it, R.J.?" she asked, a little worried. He looked so upset, not at all like the calm, slightly distant person she'd been having meals with for a few weeks.

Looking at her concerned face made R.J. laugh--he shook himself, and smiled at her.

"Sorry, honey!" He laughed again. "I'm not angry at you--just annoyed about the traffic.

"Listen," he said, "can I have a cup of coffee? I'd like to talk to you."

"Of course," she replied, and poured him a mug, automatically bringing him the milk and sugar. They sat, and she regarded him warily.

Seeing her look, he smiled broadly again. Why wait?

"Honey, I want to come home. I want to be here with you again."

She gaped--and then smiled--and then started to cry.

"Really?" she said, tears sliding down her cheeks. "You're coming back to me?"

He nodded, and realized there were tears in his eyes as well. He got up and came around the table, pulling her up to her feet and into his arms.

They held each other tightly. "I just miss you," he said into her ear, his voice husky. "I don't want to be away from you any more."

Then they both cried a little, standing there together in the kitchen, swaying slightly as they held one another.

After a few minutes she whispered, "baby, I'm so sorry! I'm gonna--"

"Shh," he said, stroking her hair. "I know, honey."

He pulled back a little, so that he could see her face, shining with tears but smiling broadly up at him.

"Listen," he said, "do you think you could be a little late for work this morning?"

"Oh, baby, yes!" she cried; and in a moment they were hand in hand, on their way to the bedroom.