End Of The Century

Leila picked me up at the Best Western in Northampton. It was Friday night, December 25, 1999. She stopped at a gas station to fill up and then we took Crescent to Route 4. Four miles to Easthampton. She was quiet and pensive. Some indeterminate music emanated from the radio and played softly in the background. I looked out the window as the strip mall shop signs flashed by. Store 24. Stop And Shop. Small town New England.
Leila lived in the country, in the valley, and when we got close to her house, she pulled up on the shoulder and asked me to get out and walk the rest of the way. Her babysitter was at the house and Leila was still a married woman, although separated. I walked slowly up the road, hands in my pockets, shoulders hunched into my favorite blue sweater. It was very cold and a bright moon shone down. A car drove by, the babysitter I guessed. Getting close to the houses, I saw the figure of a woman on a porch. It was Leila, smoking a joint. I don't know if it was her intention but this impressed me.
Once in the house,I sat down at the kitchen table while she warmed up some Christmas leftovers. We talked a little while I ate. I could see Mt. Tom in the distance through her window. Around 11, she said she was tired after the long Christmas day of celebrations and gift-exchanging and cooking and tussling with the kids. We went up to her bedroom and I plopped down into a comfortable overstuffed mini sofa next to her bed. She changed into pajamas and slipped under the covers. It was then that for the first time, in the dark, we relaxed and had a nice conversation. After a while she stopped talking and I knew she'd fallen asleep so I took off my shoes and tiptoed off to the guest room.
Next morning, I woke to the sounds of the doorknob turning back and forth. I could hear giggling little girl voices outside the door. Emily and Miranda. Luckily, I'd locked the door from the inside and the girls were foiled. Soon the voices died down and I dozed off. A car might have driven up to the house and driven away.
Some time passed until an authoritative knock woke me. I heard Leila's voice asking if I planned to sleep all day. I explained that I was waiting for her husband to pick up the girls for the weekend and thus off the hook I bounded into the bathroom.
Showered and dressed, we decided to go into Noho to Haymarket Cafe for coffee and bagels. I loved their Cafe Mochas and talked Leila into having one. We took a table and Leila spread out The Boston Globe to the crossword section. The Globe puzzle wasn't nearly as difficult as the New York Times puzzle and I came up with answer after answer and Leila complimented me several times.
After Haymarket, I asked her to drive me to the Best Western for check out since I would be spending the last night with her. While I was settling up at the office I could see her with her little pencil finishing the Globe puzzle in the car.
Then it was back to Easthampton town to meet Leila's good friend Jill. Jill was a woman in her sixties who had fled the craziness of New York City for a sweeter, saner existence in The Pioneer Valley. She owned and worked in a little restaurant called Imagine where Leila occasionally helped out making the soup of the day. Jill fed me a delicious pastry, one of her specialties, and then half-jokingly said I had better treat Leila well or she would have to hurt me. I smiled and said nothing but I was flattered that Leila's friends saw me in that way although it was obvious that she was deeply emotionally entangled in her broken marriage and the past.
After this we drove back to the house to pick up her white Labrador Belle and then headed for Mt. Tom. Once at the top, we parked and embarked on a trail that overlooked the valley. Leila pointed out her house way down in the valley as we walked, a strong icy wind blowing into our faces. After 15 minutes or so, it was obvious that Belle was the only one having a good time so we decided to cut the walk short and head back to the warmth of the car. On the way back Leila stopped to give directions to a man who was lost. It struck me then how shy and girlish she was and completely unaware of how attractive she was to men.
After dropping Belle off at the house, we went back to Noho for lunch. Japanese was the choice. The food was fine and Leila was in a good mood, joshing me about my inability to handle the New England winter and even tweaking my ear once! We walked around the town afterwards and she told me stories about the end of her marriage. Her husband had hurt her deeply, had fallen in love with another woman and seemed happy in his new life. We passed a fashionable clothing store and Leila pointed out their sign and told me that her husband had designed it.
After the walk,we drove back to Easthampton.It was my last night with her and we decided to stay in. There was plenty of food still left over from Christmas for dinner and afterwards we played scrabble. After trouncing me several times Leila got bored and we stopped. On the score sheet I noticed there were scores of old games with her husband. He had won every time.
The following morning we slept in and had breakfast around 10. My train was leaving at noon. I packed up and brought my bags downstairs. Leila was in the bathroom, applying her make-up. I stood in the open doorway and watched her put on her lipstick. She laughed and chattered like a giddy schoolgirl, pausing every now and then to purse her lips for the applicator. I wondered if I had been a salve for her pain for a few hours. I wasn't sure.
On the way to the station, we saw a red-tailed hawk in distress, floundering on the grassy median in the middle of the highway. Leila said she would contact the Audubon Society when she got back. For some reason, this incident brought home a clear realization to me. I would always be looking in at her world from the outside. I had all this love to give but where was it going to go? Her world was closed to me. This was a Truth.
At the platform of the train station we made idle conversation. Then, as the train approached, and it was time for me to go, she took my hand and brought it her mouth and kissed it. A tear trickled down her cheek and she choked back a sob. I felt numb but knew that soon I wouldn't. Something was ending. I was leaving everything that was passionate and romantic and going back to a life of petty distractions and mundane routines. As the train slowly left the station, I looked out the window at the frozen Connecticut River. An old Joni Mitchell song started playing in my head and I wiped the first hot tears from my face.