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Sitting quietly, she waited at the back of the sanctuary, in the next to last row, playing with the heel of her left shoe. She’d realized it was loose in the cab this afternoon, and it had served as a useful fidget throughout the service. She needed to get it fixed before the thing broke off.
Truthfully, she still wasn’t sure if she should be here. The last time she’d spoken to Rafael, it had been as he walked away from her on the night that Forlini’s had closed. He had promised to be there whenever she didn’t feel betrayed by him anymore. But as her feelings of betrayal had faded, life had jumped in and kept her as busy as ever, making it harder to commit to get up with him.
And it wasn’t that she never thought of him. She did, perhaps more than she cared to admit, even to herself. But in the handful of moments where the memories of him appeared, she’d just as quickly found herself pulled into another task. Three or four times she’d actually reached for the phone, but then someone had needed her–Noah, the squad–and the call was never made.That call wasn’t one she was looking forward to, particularly; it was going to be difficult and awkward for both of them. So letting the rest of her life take priority was easy. She didn’t want to examine it too much, her avoidance, so it kept happening. And she’d been okay with that, waiting for a time that hadn’t come, until last Thursday night.
Until her son interrupted her in her home office, tears in his eyes, to hand her the obituaries from that morning’s paper.
She’d only met Lucia Barba a handful of times. Bright and engaging, it was easy to see how Lucia could successfully lead a charter school. It was harder to imagine her as a victim of domestic violence, like she had been during Rafa’s childhood. Despite that painful time, Liv had learned that Rafael was incredibly close to his mother. Being her only child, he had always felt a responsibility to care for and protect her, and in her later years, she had grown increasingly dependent on him. Liv had seen how Rafael had often filled his free time by taking his mother to brunch, to museums, to plays. He’d once told Liv that his mom had instilled a deep appreciation for the arts in him, and now that he could afford it, he wanted them both to experience all that New York had to offer.
Twisting the heel of her shoe again, she found herself suddenly worried about how lonely he might feel, now that Lucia was gone. True, Liv hadn’t spoken to Rafa in a few years, but all of the time that Rafael invested in his mother was time he didn’t invest in other relationships–namely, a lover, a partner, even a friend. And now that Lucia was gone, well…
He was in the aisle now, finishing a conversation with an elderly woman toward the front of the sanctuary. Rafael looked as polished as ever, just as handsome, with his beard trimmed neatly and wearing a finely tailored black suit. Olivia took in the teal dress shirt, remembering that color was Lucia’s favorite, and the teal and black tie that reminded her of the years she and Rafa had spent side by side as colleagues and friends. But Olivia could also see how exhausted he was; his shoulders sloped slightly and his posture was less sharp than usual. She’d seen this look on him before, when he lost his abuelita. It was the weight of his grief.
There were a handful of other people milling about, primarily packing up the items that had been shared during the memorial service. Lucia had been cremated, so when the service had ended, friends and family took a moment to speak to Rafael before leaving. Liv had thought she’d wait until nearly everyone had left, then speak to him. That way she could extend her sympathies for the loss of his mother, and perhaps even let him know that as far as she was concerned, they were good. She was ready to be friends again, if he was. Hopefully, that part of the conversation would be short and relatively painless. Convincing herself of the pragmatic nature of her plan, she’d stayed in her seat, in the next to the last row, playing with her heel and people watching.
But the service had ended a while ago, and nearly everyone had left. She’d been lost in her thoughts and fiddling with her shoe.
Realizing that Rafael may very well be leaving in a handful of minutes himself, she suddenly decided that now wasn’t the best time to heal old wounds. His mind would be too preoccupied with his recent loss, and it would be silly–selfish, actually–to try to speak with him today, about anything. After all, she couldn’t very well extend her sympathy when she hadn’t even extended her forgiveness. Or friendship. Or…something.
The right thing to do would be to leave now, before he saw her. She would call him soon and have that conversation she’d been putting off. Then they’d have plenty of time, uninterrupted–
“Liv?”
Dammit.
His voice immediately drew her eyes to him. When had he moved so close? Olivia stood up, balancing awkwardly on one heel, so they’d be eye to eye. “Hi…hey, Rafa,” she got out, adjusting the heel on her left foot that kept slipping uncomfortably. Was she smiling at him? God, she hoped she was smiling, but that it was a kind smile, one that conveyed sympathy for his loss. It couldn’t be just a regular old smile–that would be insulting. Why could she not recognize if she was smiling?
Why the hell wasn’t she doing this right?
“I’m so sorry,” she heard herself say, then felt a heavy lump in her throat. She swallowed against it, trying to force it to relent, but it stayed right where it was, large and painful. Then her eyes began to tear.
She hadn’t even known his mom that well. This was embarrassing.
“Hey…it’s okay,” he murmured, awkwardly resting a hand on her shoulder for comfort. His hand gently ran up and down her arm, and her eyes were immediately drawn toward the movement. The hand stopped, and she heard, “Would you rather I not?”
She shook her head. “It’s fine,” she told him shakily. “I don’t even know why I’m crying.”
He gave her a soft smile, then dropped his hand. “Memorials bring that out in people,” he replied quietly. “Thank you for coming, Liv…she would have been happy to see you.”
The lump in her throat appeared again. “No, probably not,” she said, and his eyebrows rose. “Not after how we left things. How I left things…with you.” She swallowed again, this time pushing past that lump that she recognized as the pain of her conscience. “I’ve been meaning to call you for a long time…”
His expression changed from surprised to skeptical, and a short, sharp laugh escaped his throat. “Liv…”
“It’s hard to repair something you’ve left broken for so long,” she said. “And the longer you leave it, the harder it gets to remember how to maintain it, and how helpful it was when it was working…”
Their eyes met for a long minute, without words, until finally, Liv spoke again. “I know you spent a lot of time with your mom, going to plays and to concerts and all. I, um…I have a couple of tickets to that new musical, Galileo, on the seventeenth, if you’re interested…it’s just opened? If you’d like to go with me, I mean…maybe we can, um…continue this conversation. Or start a better one.” As she looked at him then–really looked–she could see how his eyes were shining with tears as well. She reached up to wipe one with her finger, stopping just an inch from his face. “Is this okay?”
Rafael cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah,” he replied gruffly. “And,um, yeah. Yes, I mean…about the show. And the conversation. Either one. Both, really. ” Another soft smile appeared. “Yeah. Both.”
Liv gently wiped away his tear, then gave him a warm smile. “I’ll call you,” she told him. “Or you call me, either way. Either way,” she repeated.
Rafael gave her a single nod, a confirmation. “Sure. And, um…thank you for coming, Liv. And thank you for, uh, starting this conversation.”
This time the smile came easier, and the lump in her throat loosened slightly. “I’ll talk with you soon, Rafa,” she told him, then turned to head out of the sanctuary.
It was a short walk to her car. Once inside, Liv gave in to the pressure in her throat and let the tears fill her vision, the pain fill her heart. She’d lost so much time with someone she loved. She could have lost it for good.
When she was able to breathe easily again, she grabbed a tissue to wipe her face, then picked up her phone. She looked up the ticket site for Broadway, then searched “Galileo” and “December 17”. It was her next night off from work.
She had two tickets to buy.