Toph's Empty Year - 13. Late February

Loose ends.

I received a call from Niles. After our last meeting, I had expected to never hear from him again. Either he has not given up or has slipped me into his friend zone. In either case, I am always delighted to hear from him. I do like Niles and he usually has interesting news.

In spite of my permission for him to give Nico and Austin my number, he has not.

“It’s your choice, Toph. I thought I’d give you a month or so to think it through. Last night I did receive a message from Austin. Ironically, it came by way of Nico. Austin thought Nico could directly contact you, because you had been best friends. The bottom line is, Austin wants to meet with you this weekend, if possible. Do you want me to give you his number, or continue to be the middleman?”

“Why don’t you give me both their numbers. I zapped everything from my old phone when I left Euphoria.”

Thus I was in possession of Austin’s number. It required a beer and an hour to build my courage. I even conjured up a lengthy list of possible scenarios. Finally, I called.

“Austin, it’s Toph.”

“Oh, my God! I never thought I’d hear from you! Are you all right? Please tell me you’re okay.”

I chuckled. “Yes Austin, I’m fine. I’m painting, working and even getting taller. How about you? How was your first semester at Brown?”

“Oh, I’m so glad to hear that. Brown is great. I think it took me the whole semester to get my bearings, but everything is going fine. Toph, I want to see you.”

“You can’t be that desperate. There must be a plethora of pulchritude from which to choose at Brown.”

“Actually, not. But that’s not why I want to see you. I don’t want to have sex with you, I want to talk to you.”

“I’m not good enough anymore?” I couldn’t help teasing.

Austin let out a huge sigh. “Toph please! That’s not what I meant. I’d love to hook up with you, but we need to talk. You’ve got to know that!”

“I’m sorry Austin. It was a lame joke. I know we need to talk. I’ve been thinking about it too. Niles mentioned perhaps a time this weekend. Is that still open?”

“Yes. Quite by accident, I found a little place during a trip I took over winter break. It’s about a two-hour drive for you and maybe three for me. You’ll love it there. Let me book a room. There’s a great restaurant right in their building. We can catch up over dinner. Please say yes, Toph!”

“Of course I’ll say yes. Give me the address. I’ll leave after lunch Saturday and be there by 4 at the latest, probably sooner.”

I agreed because the unfinished business with Austin needed to be addressed. It would be another picket fence for me to smash. Maybe I would even be able to complete his damn portrait! I was not certain about the sex, but decided to play it by ear.

Saturday morning, I visited Naomi. I do not do it as often as I should.

“Well, the good news is I may finally complete the portrait I stored with you last fall. Later today I am meeting my friend Austin.”

“That is good news, Toph. Finishing the portrait, certainly, but meeting your friend is the most important event. You must have left things incomplete with him.”

“Worse! I left him. When I ran off from Floria, he never even knew I had left.”

“Then I am pleased you will meet with him. Changing the subject, when you have a few free hours, I’d like to discuss some ideas with you. After you’re back, let me know when will be good.”

From Naomi’s I went directly to Happy’s for lunch. For once, I got to listen. Betty and Big Joe were discussing his June wedding. I discovered my guess was correct. His dad does have a medical problem. He never named it, but it is cancer for sure. Big Joe has developed a certain inner confidence since the time I first met him. Perhaps it is the seriousness of the potential loss of his father, running the business or his wedding. Any one of those would be enough to do it. The impact of all three has to be sobering.

I stopped back home to pack a few clothes. It was not clear Austin meant for me to stay over with him. Either way, I would be prepared.

It was about 3:30 when I arrived. The front desk called his room. A few minutes later, I was in Austin’s arms. He picked me up and twirled us in a circle.

“Toph! Toph! You can’t believe how happy I am!”

He set my feet back on the floor and held me at arm’s length, looking me over. “Look at you! You’re taller and even thinner. But you look really healthy and fit!”

There was a silent moment followed by another hug. This time, we both had tears streaming down our faces. The hotel staff had bemused looks.

“Where’s your bag? Still in the car? Let me help you. Oh, here’s your room key.” From that, I knew I would be staying the night.

Upon entering our room, I noticed two Queen-sized beds. Turning to Austin, I raised my eyebrows.

“I’m sorry, Toph. I wasn’t sure. I thought I would give you the option.”

I believe my kiss revealed the option I chose. We sat on one of the beds, totally relaxed with each other. We always were. I was pleased to realize that had not changed. I insisted he give me a recap of his first semester. I have to admit, it was enjoyable listening to Austin describe his college experience. As I said, we were completely at ease. He even described the two guys he had been intimate with. As I previously explained, we always had that type of relationship.

Our dinner reservations were for 6:30, which was getting close. We freshened up, then went down to the restaurant. During the meal it was my turn to bring Austin up to date. He was quite surprised I had a boyfriend, if only for a few weeks.

“I didn’t think you had arrived at that emotional level. You certainly weren’t ready for a relationship while in Euphoria. I tried to explain that fact to your mother.”

“What?! My mother?”

“Oh, yes! She cornered me before I could leave for school, right after Labor Day.”

“She cornered you?”

“It was even worse. She accused me of hiding you somewhere! There I was, not even aware you had fled Euphoria, and there she was, offering me a huge sum of money to break off our supposed relationship and rat you out. I even had nightmares about her for weeks.”

“She offered you money to break up with me?”

“A pretty large chunk of change. It actually had me worried.”

“I’m sorry you had to endure that. You didn’t deserve what happened. I should have told you but was all wrapped up in planning my escape. That she even cared surprises me. But you were right realizing I was definitely not ready for anything when I was in Euphoria. Last fall I did eventually find a guy I liked and thought we were in a relationship. Apparently, he didn’t. Right after New Year’s he dumped me.”

Austin laughed. “It’s a good thing he didn’t know your mother. It probably wouldn’t have lasted as long as it did!”

I knew otherwise, and did not laugh. We spent the rest of our dinner filling in all the other little gaps from our time apart.

Austin pressed me against the door as soon as I closed it. The myriad of events, separating us from the last time we were together, vanished in the midst of our hungry kisses. I’m not sure how long that phase of our evening lasted. I do remember what happened when we started to remove our clothing.

“Which bed do you want, Toph?”

“Whichever one you’re sleeping in.”

When Austin entered me, not everything felt familiar. It was like returning home after a long trip. There was the warm familiarity but, at the same time, a touch of difference – a strangeness. None of this subtracted a fig from the ardor we exhibited. Austin was completely involved in our lovemaking. I experienced an uninhibited ease for the first time since our last time in August. Even as I hungrily pushed back meeting each of his thrusts, even as our gazes never left the other’s, and even as our orgasms delivered us into each other’s arms, that slight difference told us it was to be our last coupling.

After a contented night’s sleep, with our limbs intertwined, I was first to awaken. Admiring the beautiful Austin beside me, I realized this should have happened last August. How cruel I had been! I should have stayed the night, then explained I was leaving Euphoria. I thought of these things, lying there, watching him until his eyes opened. Experiencing his broad smile, my wait was made worthwhile.

We showered, then went downstairs for breakfast. I am certain we both realized a relationship between us was impossible. We were somehow content with it. I had the strong impression we will always be friends; always keep in touch. Sometimes, in some lives, nothing more is possible.

In the parking lot, before we got into our cars, Austin gave me a tender kiss. I smiled as we departed, driving to our futures in opposite directions.

. . . . . . . .

I was relieved the unease with Austin, unconsciously percolating inside me, had now passed. The sky was brilliant today, with a warmish southerly breeze. I decided to visit the little park, which I continue to think of as Niles’ park.

My mind was quite devoid of thought, simply enjoying a quiet Sunday afternoon. Sitting on a bench, I realized it was the same one where I had seen the pigeon lady. I looked across to the reflecting bench, but she wasn’t there, just the young illustrator I had spoken with a few weeks ago. Even though Oscar insisted I should paint him, he simply would not emerge. Something was missing. Thinking perhaps a few more sketches were needed, I opened my pad.

It wasn’t until I started sketching that I noticed something was not quite right. From the way he was sitting, it made me believe he was very unhappy. He was certainly talking to himself. I tried to capture the facial expressions as I hurriedly dashed off a few sketches. Perhaps this intriguing person would yet emerge from the blank canvass which had been mocking me. I attempted to empathize with whatever his problem was. He was a poignant – no, delicate – soul but also a beautiful young man. As when I first met him, he appeared so vulnerable sitting over there. My heart went out to him.

He produced, then lit a cigarette, but quickly made a repugnant face. It wasn’t the face he would make if there were enjoyment. No, it was clearly a face of disgust with himself. I guessed he had quit and whatever trouble he was feeling compelled him to relapse. He continued at it, the smoke now wreathing his head. I realized I was doing what Oscar insisted I do. I was creating a story for this scene. I was becoming cognizant of the feelings and inner struggles of someone who was, for once, not me. Thank you again, Oscar!

In truth, I was about to walk over, thinking perhaps I could offer a shoulder to cry on. But before I could lift myself off the bench, a slightly older man approached him. He took the cigarette from Ian, said a few words, then tossed it away. He sat down, gently kissing the younger man. I assumed a lover’s quarrel was the cause of Ian’s distress.

The older one opened a small bag in his hand, showed the contents to Ian, and kissed him again. I couldn’t see what was in the bag, but it could not have been much larger than a pound can of coffee. The younger man beamed and they kissed again. They rose and walked out of the park, hands linked. Instead of seeing a painting, I saw a story.

Returning home, I began to write what turned into a brief narrative about these two. Ian, the younger more fragile one, had recently escaped from a terrible relationship, which he barely survived. The older man was totally in love with him. Sadly, the previous relationship was preventing Ian from being anything but fearful he would relive his last nightmare. I decided to name the older man Miles. It was a subtle modification from Niles, in whose park this all occurred.

Over the next few days, I wrote the story. Beginning with the scene I witnessed, the story stretched a few months into the future. These two were deeply in love, but Ian kept envisioning Miles angry with him for imagined offenses. The love and patience of Miles eventually brought out a sense of balance Ian had been suppressing. Miles won the day; their love became yet closer.

I was proud of my little tale. It even had a happy ending. I couldn’t endure waiting until next month’s TALON meeting, so I called Oscar to schedule a meeting as soon as possible.

. . . . . . . .

I guess this was the month for taking up my items of ‘Old Business.’ I called Nico.

“It’s Toph.”

“Thank God. Niles tells me you look healthy and are terribly busy working and drawing. Not that I don’t believe him, but I must see you myself.”

“Anywhere but Euphoria.”

“How about a Thursday evening dinner at Gordon’s, in the city.”

“It sounds perfect. I’ll meet you there at seven.”

On Thursday, Nico spotted me as soon as I emerged from my car. Exhibiting a wide smile, he came jogging over. I was suddenly in the middle of another embrace from my past. At that moment I realized how close we once were; how much I missed him.

It was a different reunion from the one with Austin. Over dinner, I grasped how frustrated he was. Poor Nico had no choice. After only one semester, he was out of school, possibly for good. I tried to tell him it did not need to be so. He could return when things were under control. Perhaps he could get his older sisters involved in the business. He agreed, explaining he had already approached them. I honestly do not think he saw it as a solution to what he faced. Nico believed his life and future were already written for him.

I asked about his love life. He was very popular in high school. Some of it was certainly from the fact he was a Popendropolis. But even if he were not, Nico’s warm and outgoing personality would have made him popular anyway. I remembered a few girlfriends, but never one from our group. He described a couple of girls from college he had gone with, but now he is not serious with anyone. I have a distinct suspicion an arranged marriage is in his future, and he is avoiding the inevitable for as long as possible. Why do families eat their young?

This made me realize, in a way, I was so much freer. It was also interesting to compare the similar situations of Big Joe and Nico. Each had been groomed to assume his father’s business. Each finds himself thrust into the role much sooner than he expected, and for the nearly identical reason. It is fascinating to note where the similarity ends. Big Joe looks forward to experiencing his challenge, amplified by having a new bride to share it. On the other hand, Nico accepts the crown with sadness and resignation. There probably is a lesson somewhere in there for me to discover. I’ll need to reflect upon it in the future.

In high school we were always looked upon as best friends, and we were. In spite of that, we never had discussions about personal things. Perhaps it was me. I cannot remember being involved that way with anyone. Austin was for sex. Nico was for tennis and organizing our group of friends. I only had personal dialogues with myself. I suppose it was those damn picket fences again.

In a way, Gary has given me a rebirth in New Glory. He has made me confront issues and feelings I always safely avoided. In that respect, Gary has been more of a friend to me than anyone I have ever known. Is it Gary or is it the fact I have changed? Is it Gary who has been the catalyst of that change? It is another question I will need to investigate.

Nico and I shared an enjoyable reunion. We promised to meet again, perhaps for tennis. I doubt it will happen.

. . . . . . . .

On the day of my meeting with Oscar, I was pacing as he read Ian’s story. When finished, he sat me down.

“Toph, please don’t become discouraged by what I’m about to tell you.”

“It’s awful, right?”

“Actually, it’s not. It simply doesn’t hang together. Your characters are very likeable. The various scenes are interesting and each exhibits a dry humor. The problem is, it is not a story. It’s like a series of unrelated episodes. Take this first chapter, where Ian thinks the relationship is over. You have too many internal thoughts; too many explanations of the feelings each boy has. The effect of the chapter is very cute, almost too funny to be sad, but we know it’s supposed to be sad. We see how vulnerable Ian is.”

Then Oscar proceeded to cross out nearly the entire three-page chapter. All that remained were a couple paragraphs.

“There. It conveys everything the original chapter was attempting, but it is so much cleaner. Read it over.”

I did.

“It is better, but how can you write a whole story like this?”

“You didn’t write a whole story in the first place. You only wrote a series of unconnected scenes, filled with adjectives and descriptions which did not unite or move the story at all. Each had a nice central idea. Why don’t you take this home and pare each chapter as I did the first. See what you get.”

I did.

What remained were ten unrelated scenes of only a few hundred words each. The more I read them, the more I realized they did tell the story of a patient lover who helped Ian blossom into the person who was hiding within. It was not a story, but an un-story, which told the tale plainly enough. When I was comfortable, I stashed it into my writing folder alongside the pigeon lady, probably never to be seen again.

However, I was able to paint Ian. What emerged in the final oil was not Ian on the bench. It was a scene of Ian standing, in the embrace of Miles. His back was nestled into Miles chest. His head was tilted back, resting on his lover’s shoulder. Their cheeks were touching. Enwreathed by a coral mist, a crimson background brought focus to their loving expressions. It was peaceful, tender and serene.

Can one become jealous of one’s own creation? These two were sharing something. It made them complete. Have I ever shared anything? I have attempted to break down the little picket fences in my mind. By smashing some of them, I may have shared their yards with each other, but they were compartments yet in my mind.

I understand how much of a weakness this is. However, you cannot begin to realize how difficult it is for me to let someone in – really in. I don’t even know how to begin! Perhaps therapy would help? I’m not sure. I suppose Oscar is my ad hoc therapist for now, but is even he capable of unraveling me?

Why do I have issues with people who become close? Did I somehow, unconsciously, chase Steve away once I flirted with the idea of loving him? My list is beginning to lengthen. Now Niles and Austin have been added to it. As soon as feelings emerged with Niles and Austin, did they become off-limits? Will Gary be next? I have always known Gary has feelings for me. I have certainly felt a puzzling attraction toward him. It has been there since the first time we met. What happens if either of us crosses the line; trespasses onto the fenced-in yard of love?

. . . . . . . .

Toward the end of the month I found myself in the little meeting Naomi had requested. She told me she was getting old. This was patently untrue. She was the same age as Abigail, probably about fifty. Naomi attempted to convince me she was slowing down. What this was really heading toward was a job for me.

Before we got to that, she filled me in on some interesting background. Her parents had purchased the little shop for her, shortly after she finished college. Naomi explained the shop they purchased was about half her current shop/studio. She always wanted to expand, to create a small oasis for artists. Apparently, she even toyed with the idea of a coffee shop onsite. Unfortunately, the adjacent properties never became available, except for the one she had annexed as the studio. Now, ‘slowing down,’ she has given up the dream. This brought her to the job offer.

“How near completion is your apprenticeship at England?”

“Very near. I’ve been involved in every department related to design. I know I’ll be leaving pretty soon. Next, I need to concentrate on completing my portfolio for Abington. I should get right on that and also make sure my application is in order. Time is getting short.”

“You’ll need employment. Why don’t you work here, for me? You can run the store and use the studio when it’s not busy. It will permit me to paint a little more and relax with fewer store hours. You can even continue to work here while you’re in school. That’ll be a big bonus for you. What do you think?”

“To be honest, it would be like a dream come true.”

It was thus I became employed for the third time in my life. Upon arriving, I began discussing the end of my England apprenticeship with Gary. We were home alone, sitting side by side on the sofa. Anders and Joanne were out for dinner and a show.

“I figured you’d be near done by now.”

“Naomi’s offer couldn’t have been made at a better time. It’s perfect, especially being able to work there while in school.”

“Don’t concern yourself with England. I’ll take care of all the paperwork for you. Start at Naomi’s whenever you want.”

“Thanks, Gary, I really appreciate it. I have a question maybe you can help with.”

“Of course! Anything, Toph.”

“Well, you know that money I found in my account?”

Gary smiled and said, “Last fall, when you accused me?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I had some trust issues back then. Well, the amount of my car loan is pretty much secured with my own money now, from all my paychecks. I want to know where the other money came from. Do you have any ideas how I can find out?”

“Ask at the credit union. They have to know.”

“The loan officer I talked to only identified it as from JP Morgan.”

“She must have been looking at the summary which appears on your account screen. The information is in that wire, somewhere. Go talk to a manager. You’ll find out. Banks frown on unknown funds, certainly such a large amount.”

“Thanks, Gary. That was easy. I’m such a financial simpleton.” We both chuckled and smiled at each other.

“You’re so much more relaxed than you were, even as recently as last month. Do you feel it?”

“Not really. I mean, I believe I’m more comfortable with myself. I’m more comfortable with who I am and where I am. I can feel it in my motivation for paintings. You know, I am going to dig out Austin’s portrait and finish it. I’ve been making lots of sketches in the park and I want to paint many of them too. I think for the first time since I discovered portraits, I have inspiration.”

“No, I believe it’s greater than that. You seem to be more alive than you have been at any time since the day you arrived.”

“I think Oscar has helped. He’s made me think of the inner motivations of other people. By writing a story of what I see and draw, even though I invent it, my mind connects with them. I don’t think it ever happened to me before.”

“The painting of the boyfriends, you recently finished, is stunning. Have you ever considered selling any of your works or putting on a show?”

“I think I would need more works for a show. No, selling has never occurred to me. Anders forced me to accept money for Joanne’s portrait. I still feel funny about that. But I understand what he meant, since he was the one to give it to her.”

We sat, comfortably silent. Gary’s arm rested on top of the cushion behind me. Turning, I looked at him, at this boy I was simultaneously attracted to and wary of. He gave me a smile, which I returned. For a long time we peacefully looked at each other. And then I kissed Gary.