This Much Is True (48 page)

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Tally ~ Just a fool

S
he has a never-ending fascination with animals. We spend any free time I can carve out from rehearsals and performances at the little petting zoo in Central Park. Her favorite animals this week are the goats. She likes to feed them. Pet them. Kiss them.

Today, Rob grudgingly tags along. I think he’s starting to figure out that Cara is this permanent change—for all of us—and we best get on the same page if we’re going to be together. We’ve had this same conversation several times over the past few weeks, since that first night when I brought Cara home with me. I was still reeling with this semi-permanent shock that Tremblay was dead, and I was now officially Cara’s mother again. I’d taken the little girl’s hand, helped her out of her dress, and rummaged through the little overnight bag that Everett Madsen had managed to put together. I eventually settled upon a Tinker Bell night gown and slipped it over her head with relative ease. A few minutes later, Cara had to show me the overnight pull-up that she was to wear, and I’d helped her put it on after she dutifully tinkled in the toilet and slipped into the guest bed.

I’d just pulled up the covers, when I heard Rob’s sudden intake of air from the open doorway. He’d said without preamble, “Who the hell is that?”

My withering glance in his general direction wasn’t the last one I would give him over the coming weeks. Our battles—over kids, marriage, commitment, and finances, and the ever silent one being waged about Nika Vostrikova—had just begun.

“She still doesn’t talk,” he says to me now, while he watches Cara play alongside the other children in the general vicinity of the petting zoo.

“It’s part of the trauma. Dr. Layton doesn’t know how long it will be before she does. It’s a trust issue.”

He looks at me sideways. “So…she
is
just like you. Does she have trust issues with me, or you, or both of us?”

The smirky smile is gone. Long gone. It has been gone for the past few months and maybe even before that. We’ve been thrust into this situation because of a variety of circumstances. NYC Ballet might be one of the most admired throughout the world, but the pay is not that great. It’s high in comparison to some parts of the U.S., perhaps, even relatable to San Francisco and the surrounding Silicon Valley where the famous and nouveau riche reside, but a decent salary for a principal ballerina is relative and in comparison to the high cost of living in Manhattan, it’s nominal. An apartment in Manhattan costs big bucks. I don’t have any. Rob does. The alliance between us has begun to crumble on that point alone. I resent that I need him. He resents that I don’t want to need him. The circle of life threatens to strangle us. He’s referenced this particular analogy more than once, and I feel it every single damn day. And then, there’s the whole Nika Vostrikova betrayal. I keep waiting for him to come clean on that front. He doesn’t. But I keep waiting for him to tell me or let me go.

“You should at least tell your parents about Cara.”

I turn to look at him more closely, while he continues to avoid my direct gaze and feigns to watch Cara over my shoulder. “That sounds like a threat.”

“Maybe it is. I just think you should tell them. Enough with the lies.” He gets this stony, defiant look. “And I’m not lying for you anymore.”

“You’re not lying for me anymore,” I say softly. “But are you lying
to
me?”

I inhale, hold my breath for a few seconds, and intently study his face. He looks tired. He finished NYU in three years to please his father, but now he’s been busy launching a new business with two of his former classmates from NYU. They’re all enthused about this new software they’ve developed that all three guys believe will change the world. I tune him out every time he talks about it. Well, not every time, I do know that the code they’ve developed has something to do with security and could change the way people pay for things on-line. He’s borrowed another cool three million from his dad, which he constantly assures me is a hardly enough. He and his two partners are determined to secure another twenty million in financing within the next six months, so they can launch this product before some other high-tech start-up gets wind of their idea.

Of course, my little ordeal in Moscow set back his timetable. My six-hundred-thousand-dollar ransom came directly out of Rob’s personal funds. Of course, Linc reimbursed him for all the right reasons. Of course, Rob doesn’t ever tell me that part.

So, of course, there’s tension between us.

Of course, there is.

I reach out and tuck a strand of his hair behind his ear. He grabs my left wrist and presses his mouth against it. It’s the closest thing to true intimacy we’ve had since I returned from Moscow, long before Cara arrived, and way after his dalliance with Nika must have begun. He pulls me to him and crushes his lips against mine. There’s desperation in both of us.

“Why can’t you love me?” he murmurs against the beating pulse at my throat.

“I do.”

“Then marry me.”

I look up at his troubled face without answering like always. He nods slowly while his disappointment in my continual silence, on this point alone, weighs heavily upon us both.

I’m actually saved from answering him altogether when my cell phone rings. I pull it out of my pocket and stare at the now-familiar number for the San Francisco area code as it comes up on the screen.

“It’s Sasha,” I say carefully, pulling back from Rob’s urgent embrace. I briefly glance at Cara and wave.

Rob gives me one of his best
I’m-so-disappointed-in-you
looks and stomps off in Cara’s direction, apparently deciding that the role of daddy might bode well for him with me today. I do admire the guy’s fortitude. Rob never seems to quite give up on me. I just wish I could be sure it’s because he loves me for me and doesn’t just love me because I remind him so much of Holly, or that he wasn’t secretly fucking Nika. Yes, there’s
that
.

“Sasha?” I ask when I finally answer after the fourth ring. “What’s up?”

“You’re in! They saw your performance of
Juliette,
and they want to sign you. No audition. Can you be out here by the end of next week?”

She sounds amazingly happy. Envy surges.

Why can’t I be happy? Because I have trust issues. Because I’ve lost most everyone but Cara.

The truth is I’ve been waiting for this phone call. The cage door just swung wide open. Tremblay left the house in Alamo Square to Cara and, inadvertently, to
me
. It would be a place of our own. We could go there. We could go home. I feel the intense euphoria of freedom surge through me, although it competes directly with the inexplicable sadness I feel in leaving Rob after all we’ve been through. I’ve been putting this ending off for weeks.
Months. Years?

Breathe.

“I’m in,” I manage to say.

Sasha squeals with delight. “Awesome. I’m thrilled. This is going to be great. I’ll have them FedEx the contract, three years including the NYCB buyout and bonus. Sign it, Tally, and fax it back, and then you can give your notice to NYC Ballet. Just be ready.” She sighs.

She’s giddy. In love.
She and Michael are getting married in a couple of months. She wants me to stand up for her. I said I would. And now, I’ll be living there. Living and working in San Francisco with Sasha. This is a dream come true. I smile and allow the happiness in, however fleeting it still might be.

“Yes. Yes. I’m so excited. I can’t believe it, really.”

“I’ll see you in a week or two in San Fran, then. Do you need help with anything? Moving-wise? You can stay with Michael and me until you get settled if you want.”

“Thanks that’s so nice of you but I’m good. There’s Allaire’s house in Alamo Square. It’s close by SFB, too. We’ll be going there.” I sigh with a little laugh as the news reverberates with me. “I’m just trying to take it all in. It’s all a little overwhelming. Thank you, Sasha. I’m honored to get to work with you in San Fran. It’s going to be so great!”

“No need to thank me. You’re the talent.” She laughs and then gets more serious. “And how’s Cara?”

This is why I’m doing this because Sasha understands my need for time off at odd times. She’s the best boss I could ever ask for. She’s promised me flexibility, the choice parts, and no European tours for a long while. “She’s good. Still not talking, but she seems better…more trusting anyway.”

“Good. See? She’s going to be fine; and you’re coming home to your
family
. It’s all coming together.”

“Not all of it,” I say with a trace of apprehension. “I still have to tell Rob.”

“I would just like to remind you that you don’t
owe
Rob anything.”

Sasha knows my whole story. It just came out one day, during one of our many conversations about the possibilities with SFB and moving home and the whys and wherefores of all of that. For all I know, she could have even found out some of the details from Kimberley, too.

As of late, I’ve avoided Kimberley because of Cara and my inability to decide what to do about Linc and the complications with Rob and his betrayal with Nika. I’ve been floating in limbo unable to move forward and unwilling to go back. I’ve just been waiting. The job offer in San Francisco more or less decides it all for me. Linc has a right to know Cara. I owe Linc that much. And that’s where I have to start; now that I have a place and a job to go.
Home. I’m going home.

“Thanks for the reminder,” I finally say with a nervous laugh. “I’ll see you in a week or two. I’ve got to go…lots of packing to do and things to take care of.” I wince, thinking of Rob.

“I’ll get the contract sent over. I can’t wait to see you.”

“I can’t wait to see
you
. San Francisco, here we come.”

“Tally, it’s going to be okay.
It is
. Everyone has the right to happiness, to get what they want out of life, especially you.”

“Thanks for saying that. I want my family to know Cara…Linc, too.
Eventually
. Please don’t say anything to anyone about my coming. I have a lot of loose ends to take care of here first.”

“No problem. See you soon.”

I try to breathe. I pinch the bridge of my nose, and I try to take in what Sasha’s just offered me. I look over and discover Rob watching me. I lower my hand to my side and force myself to smile and nod.
Smile and nod.
He gets the old familiar smirky grin and slightly waves back at me, looking only slightly concerned.

Then Cara grabs his hand and pulls him into the den of children. Now all of them want to learn how to blow dandelions away. Rob becomes the pied piper within minutes as six little kids surround him. There are dandelions being scattered everywhere by all of them. I almost feel sorry for the park staff that will be spraying the weed killer later this summer because of Rob Thorn’s early efforts to spread the seeds of dandelion love throughout Central Park. Yet, the most amazing sight of all is Cara’s upturned face to Rob’s and her excited laugh. I can hear all the way over here some twenty feet away. I start to cry. I will miss this. I already miss the way we were at first. I’m sorry for all the lies between us now.

For a needed distraction, I call Marla. We haven’t talked in months, but she answers on the second ring. “We’re coming home,” I say without preamble. I can hear Elliott babbling nonstop in the background. It makes me smile.

“Like coming home
home
? Or, another three-day whirlwind visit?” Marla asks cautiously.

“Coming home. I got a job with the San Francisco Ballet. I want to surprise the family so keep it to yourself. Don’t tell Charlie.”

“Which really means don’t tell Linc,” she says.

“Right.”

“Hey what’s going on there? Where are you?” Marla asks as the crowd noise of squealing kids must register.

I stall, tabulating all the lies I could tell her. It’d be so easy to lie, to deny the existence of Cara. I could pretend I was at the theater. I could pretend I have rehearsal and need to go.

So many lies. So many have been told. When will I stop with lies
?

“She’s here.” My voice breaks. “She looks just like me. She has his grey-blue eyes; otherwise, she’s the stunning image of me.” Marla gasps while I rush on to explain it all. “Tremblay was killed in a car accident a few months ago. She’s been with us…she’s
with
Rob and me.” Now, Marla’s crying. I can hear these loud sniffles from her as if she’s having trouble catching her breath.

“I’m just so…happy…and sad at the same time because wow; Allaire Tremblay is dead. It’s just so hard unbelievable. She was a taskmaster for sure; but she was, well, Allaire Tremblay. And we loved her in a twisted weird kind of way.”

“I know,” I console. “It’s really sad.” I grimace knowing what I say next will convey all my hidden angst and fears about my child. “Cara…doesn’t talk.”

“Cara doesn’t talk?”

“No. She was in the car. Tremblay was dead. It took several hours before they found her. They think the trauma was too much for her. Her mother was dead. Well…who she considers her mother to be.”

“You haven’t told her?” Marla asks.

“I want the timing to be right. And, right now, it’s not. We’re just…trying to figure it all out.”

“So…Linc
obviously
doesn’t know,” she says gently.

“Not yet. It
is
part of the reason I’m moving back to San Fran. He has the right to be a part of Cara’s life.”

I’ve lost track of Cara and Rob. The little group of dandelion-blowers has scattered back to their original play and their ever-watchful parents.

“She’s going to be okay.
She is.
I want to enroll her in preschool this fall. Tremblay left her house to Cara, so, inadvertently to me; I think we’ll settle there. I’ll send you the key. Can you help me get it ready to go? It’s been empty for a while, not that I’ll have any furniture to fill it, but we’ll figure it out. I thought we could paint her room pink and yellow. I’ve found some pictures of rooms that I think she’ll like.”

“Sure. I love decorating kids’ rooms. Send me the key. I just can’t believe you’re coming,” Marla says with a laugh. “I’m thrilled. But, I can’t tell Charlie?”

I laugh at her familiar whine. “Not quite yet, okay? Sasha’s sending me the contract, and I need to give notice, pack…and tell Rob.”

“Rob’s not coming?”

I take a deep breath. “He seems to have taken up with Nika Vostrikova of all people. I saw them together over a month ago.

“What?” Marla sounds completely shocked. “After all she
did
to Linc?”

“What exactly did she
do
to Linc?” I ask coolly.