Page 25 of Engineering a Love Story

I call back.

“Sorry again. I hadn’t meant to be administrative. I hadn’t intended to talk about any of that. I’ve been here alone all weekend.” A giggle slips from me. Then, a burp. “Do you ever think? You know how in books or movies, people remain friendly after a divorce? All of them gathering for holidays or parties, everyone apparently content with the rearrangements. Do things like that happen in real—” There’s another beep. “Life?” I listen to the silence no longer recording my voice. “No. No, I didn’t think so. I always thought that shit seemed unrealistic too.”

I lift the phone a final time.

“Just wanted to say I’m sorry. Again. For these stupid voicemails. For messing things up. For all of it.”

I let the phone fall into my lap and I sit, finishing the beer, peeling damp labels from all three empty bottles, and wondering if Ash will call back. He doesn’t.

When I finally rise, my legs are damp and stiff. I throw the empties in the bin and go upstairs.

I’m brushing my teeth when the lights above the medicine cabinet catch the sparkles in my rings. I spit, straighten, and stare into the mirror. Then I go into the bedroom, yanking the rings from my finger. It’s past time. The diamonds in my engagement ring belonged to Ash’s grandmother. He’ll have to take these too.

Fourteen

Returning to the office on the fifth of July, I’m relieved to be among people again, though I’ve only just arrived and am setting a paper coffee cup on my desk when Evan bounds into my cube. “We’re going back to San Francisco. I’m already researching restaurants for us.”

“What?” I let my laptop case slip to the floor.

“Check your email. It’s Aurelian. Some kind of customer-analyst day. Claire Sanchez invited us.” Evan pops his eyes. “Howard too, but of course he won’t go.” Howard almost never meets with individual vendors; he leaves that to all of us. “Howard wants us to go though. I just asked him. The event is on a Friday. I’m going to stay the weekend, I’m so stoked, and visit a buddy in Santa Cruz. Haven’t seen him since graduation.” Evan raps twice on the edge of my cube and springs away.

I settle in my chair and open my laptop, scanning my inbox until I find the email from Claire.

Date: July 4, 2000

To: Chelsea Lefevre

From: Claire Sanchez

Subject: Customer event

Hi Chelsea,

I’m writing to invite you to Aurelian’s first ever customer and analyst day to be held here in San Francisco on July 21. We’ll have roadmap presentations and the chance for you to meet with Aurelian customers and executives. The event will take place at the Mark Hopkins Hotel, and I can reserve a room for you for two nights. Aurelian will cover your travel costs.

Please let me know if you can join us!

Claire

At first, I feel the still-new excitement about traveling to a beautiful city, though this is swiftly followed by the knowledge that I can’t easily swing another trip to San Francisco right now. There’s still so much to do at the house. I’ve completed a good deal of packing, but I haven’t figured out what to do with the lawn mower, the snow blower, or all that china. Plus, there’s the daunting dining room set, which won’t fit in my apartment or in Ash’s new place, I have to assume.

I’ve heard nothing from Ash since I left all those voicemails two days ago. I decide to send him an email inventory of the things we still need to handle. Not that I can move right away. Movers are booked out weeks in advance, I found when I called to arrange it.

Evan and I also have to get cracking on the Market Spotlight, and there’s other writing to do as well. I can’t miss my quota again.

I consider going to Howard and begging off this San Francisco trip.

Then I lower my forehead to the cool plastic of my desk. I’m not even fooling myself. Of course, as soon as Evan mentioned San Francisco, my mind went to Seth, the tips of my fingers tingling.

I shouldn’t even be thinking of it. Nothing like that can happen again and especially not at an event full of other analysts, Aurelian customers, and staff. It’s out of the question.

Still, there’s a pull toward seeing him, even if only from across a room. I wonder if with another sighting, Seth might be less appealing. I was addled before, emotionally raw. Now, I’m calmer. Maybe I can assess him more rationally and those scenes will stop running in my mind on repeat as they have been doing for the past month.

Plus, Howard already let me off the hook with last quarter’s writing. I can’t ask for another pass.

I spend the next two weeks commuting, working, packing, and attempting to not anticipate the Aurelian visit too enthusiastically. Time passes smoothly, with the exception of a call from Denny as I’m driving home one evening. He lets me know our home inspection turned up radon in the basement and this will have to be mitigated.

“Either by you before the sale or by the buyer afterward,” he says. “If they take care of it, the cost will come off the purchase price. Obviously.”