Push Me Ch. 07

"Moira, I hope you know me better than that."

"I'm trying. I swear. But ... Shelly knows from experience."

"How so?"

"Well, you remember I told you she had a boyfriend at another school when we met?"

"Yeah."

"The other school was her high school, and the 'boyfriend' was one of her teachers."

"Whoa."

"Yeah. Anyway, eventually he dumped her and told her she bored him, since 'she wasn't good for anything but a fuck, and he had plenty of other willing, barely legal sluts.' That's why she thought it would be fun to talk to you at the bar that night. She thought you could be a relaxing fling with a more mature man, and she and I would be there to watch out for each other. But ... you turned out to be so much more."

"Well, that answers a question I hadn't thought of for some time, but Moira, please tell me you don't believe that I think that of you, or of Shelly."

"No! Of course not! But ... the ... the getting bored part, it scares me."

I sighed and pulled her close. She came willingly, nestling her face against my chest. I kissed her head and stroked her hair for a moment.

"I'm not going to pretend I know the future, Moira. People change. We are at different places in our lives, and we both have numerous things we want to experience, and no way to predict how those things will change us. I love you more than I can ever put into words. The sense of peace you give me just by being with me is the most amazing thing I've ever felt. I would never jeopardize that for some 'strange', however familiar it may be. You are truly all I want."

Moira broke down at that point, wailing, "I love you, too! I'm afraid I don't deserve you though. That this is some cruel trick as punishment for bad things I've done, and you're going to be yanked away from me just when I need you the most." Then, she collapsed sobbing into my chest. My arms enveloped her and held her tightly as she shook.

"Moira, you're not a bad person. Everyone makes mistakes. Few people deserve to be punished their entire lives for them. I think I know you pretty well. Even if you did some things you think to be terrible, I suspect you've long since learned your lesson from them."

"You don't understand! There's no lesson here! I did a terrible thing! Nothing can erase that! It doesn't matter what I've learned. I can't undo it, and I can't ..." She paused to snuffle and take a deep breath. "I can't even say I'm sorry. It's too late," she moaned through a new round of tears.

I rocked her in my arms as she wept, and shed a few tears of my own. When I thought she was collected enough to talk, I spoke up.

"Tell me, Moira, please. What is it that makes you feel so undeserving? What have you done that is so unforgivable?"

"You'll hate me, and you should."

"No, Moira, I won't. I love you."

She tilted her eyes up to mine, and I saw a vague flicker of shocked hope. "You mean that? No matter what I'm about to tell you, you'll forgive me and still love me?"

"Of course."

She took a deep breath, marshaling her courage. "It's my fault Julian is dead."

"Moira, that's not even possible."

"It is! He told me about the headaches first. I teased him that mami and papi would take him to a doctor to get a shot. He was so terrified, and I thought it was funny. He went months without telling them. Eventually, he couldn't hide it from them anymore. By then it was too late." She erupted into tears. "I killed my little brother!"

I pulled her to me and held her, shocked by her revelation, horrified that this had haunted her, her entire life. So much about her made sense in that moment – every moment that she doubted herself, that she shied away from the high opinions others had of her. Guilt had eaten at the woman I loved for a decade. It was time for her to start healing, and I swore to myself I would do everything I could to help.

"I understand what you mean by this being a harsh lesson to learn for seemingly no benefit. I can't imagine how much it must hurt, but you couldn't have prevented Julian from getting sick, and you don't know that doing anything differently would have saved him. I think you made your apologies a long time ago. You brought joy to your bother when nothing else did. His life was unfairly short, but you did everything you could to make it the best life possible. I still love you, Moira, and I know Julian always did."

Moira wailed like the damned, reliving a kind of emotional torture I can't even pretend to understand. She shook, sputtered and choked, and I cried for her, confident and at the same time mortified that I could do no more than I was.

After what seemed like years, her tears wound down, and we found healing in the silence, and in proximity. Moira's arms snaked around me and she squeezed powerfully as she drew in a deep breath. She tipped her face up to mine, and her frown shattered into a mirthful smile. A sputtering laugh burst forth, followed by several of its friends. She lunged toward my face, and we shared a salty, playful kiss.

"I was so scared. So, so scared," She paused for a breath. "But ... I believe. I trust you. I love you."

I kissed her again, softer this time, stroking her cheek with my thumb. "You'd better." I cracked a lop-sided grin.

She thumped my chest, and pressed another smacking kiss on me before jumping to her feet. Grasping my hands, she pulled me to my feet. "Dance with me."

I drew her quickly to me. She gasped, and then smiled up at me, slipping her arms around my neck. We began a gentle sway.

No music played. No beats, but our hearts propelled us. No predefined path guided our feet. No clothing was removed, but in that motion, we made love.

***

As the weather began to turn cool, which doesn't happen until November in South Carolina, my relationship with Moira solidified even more. She discussed our decision with Shelly, who respected it, after she threatened me with very specific descriptions of the bodily harm that would befall me if I hurt Moira, and promised to abide by it. Moira and Shelly also stopped fooling around without me, even though that hadn't happened much since our weekly group sessions started. I hadn't really been concerned about that, but I was relieved nonetheless.

Around the middle of November, my phone rang randomly one Tuesday evening. The number was familiar in a way I couldn't place, even though it wasn't a local area code.

"Hello?"

"May I speak to Craig Freeman please?"

"Speaking."

"Mr. Freeman, my name is Juliette Cobb, and I'm the Administrative Assistant for the Director of Stadium Technology at Soldier field."

"What can I do for you, Ms. Cobb?"

"Mr. Freeman, you've been brought to our attention as a potential candidate for a position we have available."

"Brought to your attention by whom?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't have that information. You could always ask the director though. If it's OK with you, I'd like to tell you a bit about the position and, if you're interested, schedule an interview."

'Can't hurt to listen,' I thought to myself. "Sure, sounds good."

Juliette told me about the portions of my experience they thought would be valuable to the project they were about to start, including trend analysis and real-time mass transaction processing. She also listed a boilerplate series of job expectations that were similar to the ones I had now.

"We're interested in filling this position as soon as possible, and it's top priority for the director. Therefore, his immediate schedule has been cleared for interviews. Are you free later in the week for a video interview?"

"Thursday and Friday are fine with me." I provided my Skype contact information, and she stated she would forward additional job and project information to my e-mail, as well as a time and date for the video interview.

"If you decide you're not interested in the position between now and then, please let me know. Otherwise, the director will speak with you later in the week. Feel free to reply to the e-mail you receive or call this number with any questions you may have before or after the interview."

"I'll do that. Thank you, Ms. Cobb."

"Have a good evening, Mr. Freeman."

I spoke to Moira that evening, and I didn't mention the random phone call. It never even crossed my mind.

***

"Mr. Freeman, I'll be honest. You're our top candidate for this job, and as things stand now, you can expect a phone call with an offer from us next week."

"Wow, thank you."

"We'll speak again soon." With that, the call disconnected, and the sudden career acceleration slammed me back into my chair. As a player or not, a job with an NFL team seemed like a pretty idyllic existence, and a life in Chicago was certainly a cultural step up from Columbia, not to mention the visibility of my new position within the tech world and the potential for accolades for performing what could be some pioneering work.

I kicked on my stereo and sat back as I pondered all the ways this could change my life. Music played but went unheard as my mind wandered off to disparate locations in the distant future.

Nevertheless, something was wrong, missing. The success, the experiences, they were hollow. An empty ache framed every fantasy. A shadowy hole polluted and disrupted every though. An eerie sameness began to creep in.

Then it hit me, a body-bending, world-crushing blow – Moira. For all that Chicago could offer, it could also take from me, the best thing that I ever had. The power of those two opposing forces froze me in place. My body thrummed as fate threatened to tear me in half. Panic. Terror. Loss.

Darkness.

As the darkness clouded my eyes, my ears caught a lifeline.

"Right here on the border, ain't nobody asking questions. No, I don't need a miracle, but I could use a push in the right direction."

I knew what I needed to do. I had to talk to Moira.

***

School kept Moira busy until Sunday night. When she showed up at my condo with her backpack, I assumed she was just coming from a study session. I could tell she was excited about something, but trying to hold it back, since I'd asked her to come over to talk about something important.

As we took up our positions on the couch, she slung her pack to the floor by her feet. "So, tell me what's on your mind," she prompted.

"I got a phone call out of nowhere last week, and, well long story short, I've been offered an amazing new job."

"Really?! Doing what? With who? Are you going to take it?"

"That's the thing, Moira. I'd be working for The Chicago Bears. You know, in Chicago. As in very far from Columbia. I'm not going to lie to you and tell you I don't want to take it, but I am scared to take it."

"Why?"

"You! That's why! What happens with us? I can't ask you to up and relocate to be with me, and I don't think I can handle a long distance relationship, not one with minimal prospects for it to cease being long distance at least. I feel like I lose no matter what." I pressed my fingers to my eyes.

I don't know what I did to deserve what happened next. A fairy-tale perfect confluence of circumstances fell together in that moment, and what unfolded is the strongest evidence I have ever seen for the existence of fate.

Moira reached into her bag and pulled out a manila envelope. After opening it and pulling up one sheet of paper to expose the letterhead, she handed the envelope to me.

"Hyde Park School of Dance?"

"Read it." She gestured with her head to what was in my hands.

I removed the letter from the envelope and began to read. "Ms. Zapata, we are pleased to inform you that your application has been accepted to the entry level program at the Chicago Hyde Park School of Dance, to begin January 6th, 2014 ..."

"Oh ye of little faith," Moira mocked me with a coy smile.

I stuck my tongue out at her. "Don't take that high road with me! You had no idea what I was going to tell you."

"No, but I had enough trust in our relationship to discuss first and fret later. Besides, I knew you'd follow me like a puppy." She smirked knowingly at me.

"So, this wasn't just a test of yourself to see if you could do it? You really want to go?"

"No, I'm really going. Are you coming?"

I gave her a narrow-eyed glare before my joy overcame my desire to harass her and I erupted and laughed. Moira giggled along with me.

"So, tell me about this job. When did you apply for it?"

"I didn't. I just got a call out of nowhere from the administrative assistant to the Director of Stadium Tech at Soldier field. When I had the interview with the director, he told me that a company called SAU, Stadium Advertising Unlimited, had found me on LinkedIn, spoken to a few people with whom I'd previously worked, and they had recommended me for the position."

"That's so cool! Do we get to sit in the owner's box?"

I chuckled. "I'll see if I can work that into my salary negotiation."

"So, this is really happening? We're going to move to Chicago together?"

"It certainly sounds that way. Are you OK with that? I know you're no stranger to moving, but sometimes that makes moving less attractive."

"I haven't felt like I was home since we left Colombia. Maybe I will in Chicago."

"You'll be there, so I know I will."

I lunged toward Moira, flung an arm around her waist, and hoisted her onto my shoulder before standing up from the couch. She giggled frantically as I carried her to my bedroom. I pulled her down my body, and her ankles locked behind my back as we kissed hungrily.

We made love slowly, unhurried. After all, we had plenty of time.

A few days later, we discussed telling Shelly. We decided I would make a holiday dinner, and we would tell her then.

***

Respecting Shelly's pescatarian lifestyle, I decided I would make a seafood meal for our little Thanksgiving and big reveal. I was extremely concerned about how Shelly would take the news that Moira was moving away, so I figured one less thing to make the night comfortable for her couldn't hurt.

I cut out of work at noon on Friday to do some last minute shopping for fresh fish. Once back at my condo, I assembled an Orange Roughy en papillote. I put the fish on a base of zucchini and orange bell peppers which I assembled on a piece of parchment paper. I placed paper thin slices of shallots on top, followed by a slice of lemon and a pat of butter. I finished the preparation with salt, pepper, some herbs and a splash of white wine, and wrapped the whole thing in the parchment. I also made a mango cayenne couscous with toasted pine nuts for a side. Simple Nutella cookies with cranberries and macadamia nuts would finish out the meal.

I had just pulled some stemless wine glasses from the cabinet when I heard the knock at my door.

"It's open," I announced loudly.

In walked Moira and Shelly. I hugged Shelly, who proceeded to investigate cooling cookies while Moira snuggled up in my arms and placed several soft, quick kisses on my lips.

"I won't need to beat you if you touch those. The cookies can defend themselves right now," I said without looking in Shelly's direction.

"What? Ow, fuck hot!"

"See?"

I turned to see her sheepishly sucking on her fingers. A warped, broken cookie lay on the counter beside her. Moira shook her head, and Shelly smiled mischievously. I chuckled and pulled a wine bottle opener from a drawer.

Glasses filled and fish in the oven, we all migrated to the living room, where we chatted lightly and sipped wine while we waited for dinner to cook. Moira and I decided not to mention the news to Shelly until after dinner. She didn't even know we had any big announcements. She thought this was just our little holiday dinner before the holidays demolished everyone's schedules. I felt bad ambushing her, but we felt the "one two three PULL!" method was best.

They both oohed at the big unveil of the fish packets, and the mango couscous was a big hit. We discussed holiday plans, making sure we had a solid date to have a small Christmas get together as well.

Once I had filled Shelly with enough fish, starch, wine and cookies to induce a near-comatose state, I decided the time was right.

"Shelly, I've already told Moira this, but I have some big news."

"What's up?"

"I've been offered a new job."

"Really? With who?

"The Chicago Bears."

"No fucking way! That's awesome! So, you're gonna telecommute?"

"No, actually. That's not going to work for this job. They need me there."

"What?! No! You're moving? What about us?" She gestured expansively. "What about Moira?!"

Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn decide against doing something potentially dangerous on a Friday because it's an unlucky day. To this point, Friday had been a Good Day. I should have known my luck couldn't last.

"Shelly," Moira stepped in, "I'm going to Chicago too. I got accepted to the Hyde Park School of Dance."

Shelly's eyes expanded to huge saucers, full of fear.

"NO!" she screamed.

Moira flinched, and I closed my eyes for a second.

"I'm not just abandoning you. I promise. I'll always-"

"NOOOO!" she roared again, leaping up from her chair.

"Shelly," I started, "we're not leaving for-"

"No, no, no!" she wailed, her fists clenched at her sides, leaning forward aggressively. Then, her eyes narrowed, and she rotated to me. An angry finger flew in my direction. "You were just supposed to go!" Then, she deflated, beaten and broken. "You weren't supposed to take her with you," she whimpered.

Time stopped. A pressure wave of information slammed into me, and my head reeled from the thunderous roar of impact. Her questions on the beach. Telling Moira I would get bored. Even the story of poor Billy. I just needed one more piece of information.

"Shelly, does your father work for a company called SAU?"

"No," she spat venomously. "He owns the company that owns it."

And, there it was. That's why Shelly picked me out in the bar. Because she didn't think I could take Moira from her, and now I had.

"Shelly, how could you?" I asked.

"What's going on?" Moira interjected. I could see the understanding on her face, and the fear of admitting she was right.

"This was your goal the whole time, wasn't it? You've been playing the long game, that's for sure."

Shelly glared at me before she turned a plaintive look toward Moira. "Moira, please, don't go. I love you. You're supposed to be with me!"

"Oh, Shelly." I winced as I watch Moira's heart break. She stood, and took a step in Shelly's direction. We both saw Moira's decision on her face, and it was all Shelly could take.

"Noooo," she wailed. Then, she fled.