Chapter 63: How Do You Take Your Coffee?

November 2, 1985

I got maybe an hour of sleep, out on the sofa. By four a.m., I was pacing the floor of my apartment, trying to figure out my next move, feeling helpless against a situation that I believed to be getting away from me fast.

I sat down at the kitchen table and tried to clear my mind. I'd vowed to keep my temper in check. I'd sworn not to let Victor get to me. And it had all been for naught. I'd blown up anyway, Inez had borne the brunt of it, and what that had done to our relationship, I hadn't a clue at this point.

The hours ticked by, and the sun came up. By eight o'clock, I could wait no longer. I went over to the phone, dialing Inez's number, not wanting to think about how I'd feel if she didn't answer the phone.

But she did.

"Hi, angel," I told her.

"Hi."

Make it good, I ordered myself.

"I'm sorry for blowing up at you like that. More than anything else, I was frustrated that we couldn't get together last night. I let it get to me, and I shouldn't have. I know there's a good explanation for what happened last night, and I just wish that I'd given you a chance to tell me more about it."

There was a brief silence, before Inez finally spoke.

"I've hardly slept at all since last night," she whispered.

"Me neither," I put in quickly. "Mostly, I'm worried about you."

Another pause, before she replied in a voice that was just a bit stronger.

"I can understand your frustration, sweetie. Really, I can. I was frustrated too. I guess I have to put myself in your shoes. You're the one who's separated from the situation."

"But that was no excuse for doing what I did."

She hesitated again, before telling me, "Apology accepted."

"I love you, muñequita."

"I love you, too."

An idea flashed through my brain.

"I want to talk some more," I asserted, "but not over the phone. I know you have to study later, but do you want to have lunch together?"

"You don't even have to ask if I want to. I would love to."

I got into my car and headed on down. We went to a small sub shop not too far from Inez's place. By the time we sat down to eat, things were pretty much back to normal, at least on the surface.

"What happened last night?" I asked her gently.

"It's a long story," she related. "We were studying, and all of a sudden, Victor said he was hungry. I suggested ordering a pizza for delivery. He said no, he wanted to get out for a while. That bugged me, because you know how he acts whenever I want to take a break."

"He is a little impatient when it comes to things like that, isn't he," I said wryly.

"He sure is. Anyway, he mentioned Charlie's. I really, really didn't want to go. But I couldn't say no. I was at his place, with no car of my own, and whatever he wanted to do, I had to follow along. Plus, I wasn't that hungry. And on top of everything else, I was under-dressed for a place like that. I'd changed out of the clothes I'd planned to wear on our date; I just had on a T-shirt and jeans. Victor suggested dropping by my place first so that I could fix myself up a little, but there's no way in hell I wanted to do that. I just wanted to go, eat, and come back.

"He, of course, went into his room and changed into something more appropriate for the venue. His ego is through the roof. We went in his car, and you know how I hate riding in that car of his. They don't have a dress code at Charlie's, so I didn't have any problems, but I did feel out of place. The food was okay, nothing special. My conscience did bother me, sweetie, the longer we stayed there. I remembered our date, and here I was eating in a nice restaurant without you. And the company was boring beyond belief. He talked, and talked, and talked. I finally had to step in and suggest we leave, or we'd be up all night studying."

"And yet he doesn't like it if you take a few minutes to talk to me on the phone," I noted again.

"No, he certainly doesn't. It's ironic, isn't it?"

I knew that it was much more than mere irony, but rather than continue beating that horse, I got back on track. "I have to agree that you were put in a situation where you couldn't refuse. And if I'd only listened to that account last night, maybe both of us would have slept a little better."

"Maybe," she acknowledged. "The entire evening was one I'd like to forget. And the worst part was that we couldn't be together." There was a slight tremor in her voice as she spoke the last sentence.

"I agree one hundred percent with that," I said right away, before taking a deep breath. There was a matter I had to point out here – one I'd mentioned several times before – but which bore repeating one more time.

"We can agree to disagree on this," I offered up, taking her hand in mine, "but I still say that Victor is manipulating you."

She offered a patient smile at that remark, while at the same shaking her head from side to side. "If he wanted to make a pass at me ... wouldn't he have done it in a situation like last night?"

Self-esteem. That was my girlfriend's weak point, distilled down to its essence. It had haunted her somewhat in this life, and had been a major bugaboo in the other timeline. How to enable her to see herself as I did?

"I wish you knew how wonderful you are," I said to her, on an impulse, my voice laden with emotion.

She cast her brown eyes downward, smiling softly, before once again meeting my gaze. "Why do you say that?" she asked.

"Because then you might see that I'm not the only guy who has eyes for you."

Driving home, my mind was in a restless swirl. Vignettes kept entering and leaving my mind, dealing with feedback and advice I'd gotten from those close to me during this whole ordeal. I thought of lunch breaks with Paul, my one-on-one with Raul, the day I'd spent with Lisette, the talk I'd had with my parents. I recalled Dad's remark about not letting Victor push my buttons. That had proven to be easier said than done, hadn't it?

But because I was thinking about Dad, I suddenly recalled something that my mother had said to me that same day: "Sometimes, the best solution is the one that you don't see."

I hadn't really had much of a chance to weigh that idea over. But here it was, front and center in my mind at last. What solution could I possibly be overlooking?

I tried to zero in on this unseen remedy. I asked myself a simple question. At this point in time, what did I want more than anything else? It didn't take me long to arrive at an answer. What was the core? I wanted my beloved's face to be the last sight I saw before falling asleep at night, and for that same face to greet me when I woke up in the morning. If I had that, everything in between would take care of itself.

At that instant, it came to me: a vision clearer than any dream, a solution more perfect than any I ever deemed possible. My last few weeks had been hell, and I knew that Inez felt the same way. It was time to do something about it, and I knew exactly what I had to do. I was well aware that life would continue to be challenging for a little while longer, but I was so excited, I could not wait.

Along with that epiphany came a shorter-term quest. I still had the Victor problem to deal with. I arrived at a quick decision; no more would I put up with this shit. That very night, I would sleep in the same bed as my girlfriend, Victor be damned. If necessary, I'd move heaven and earth to make it happen.

Back at my place, the phone rang around mid-afternoon. I wondered who it could be, and was surprised when Rosie identified herself.

"Raul and I ... want to invite you and Inez to our place for dinner tomorrow," she explained. "I just talked to Inez. She wanted to call you, but I told her that I would."

Hmm, interesting, I thought. I wonder what this is all about. I wondered if another guest might be in attendance as well, but Rosie quickly put that speculation to rest.

"I also want to tell you that Victor is not invited," she assured me.

Even more interesting, I said to myself.

"We'll be there, Rosie," I told her amiably. "And thanks for the invitation."

But right now, tomorrow's concerns took a back seat to tonight's mission. It was shortly after eight in the evening when I left my apartment. Yesterday's roses, still fresh after being stored in my car in the November chill for twenty-four hours, greeted me as I opened the trunk of the Datsun. I had plans for those roses tonight.

Nearly a half hour later, I got off the turnpike at the New Brunswick exit. I stopped at a Dunkin' Donuts, where I picked up a half-dozen donuts and two cups of coffee. Then, armed with my props for the evening, I set out for my girlfriend's apartment.

I knocked on Inez's door with my arms full and my heart laden with trepidation. It was a fleeting weak moment. I heard footsteps approaching from inside, and the door flew open, revealing the beautiful face of my beloved.

"Sweetie!" she cried out in surprise, as she went to hug me, but saw how weighed down I was. "You came all the way down here?" I nodded and smiled.

"Sorry to bother you guys, but I brought snacks," I said, re-positioning my goods so that I could kiss my girlfriend firmly on the lips. I followed her into the apartment carrying the coffee, donuts, vase and roses. An obviously irked Victor was sitting at the kitchen table, with Inez's books next to him. This wasn't about to bother me, though; now that I was here, I felt calm and focused. I set down the coffee and donuts on the table, right next to Victor.

I then handed the roses to Inez.

"They're beautiful," she told me, her eyes shining. "You didn't need to buy me roses because of last night."

"Actually, I bought them late yesterday afternoon, for last night."

"Oh," she said, as a somber look crossed her face.

"Honey, regardless of how or when I give them to you, they're yours. I suppose I could have given them to Lisette, but I wouldn't want you or Seamus to get jealous." I laughed, and Inez did too, as she quickly arranged the roses in the vase.

"This is all very touching, but Inez and I have work to do," Victor groused, reciting his tiresome mantra.

"I know. I'll be out of your hair in a minute." Then, turning to Inez, I told her, "I'll wait for you in the hall lounge. Come and get me when you're done, okay?"

"I want you to stay, but I'll be kind of tired," she said with a slight yawn, as she placed the vase on the table, before taking a seat.

"Then I get to hold you until you fall asleep. It's one of my favorite things, you know," I smiled.

I saw Inez's face light up, and realized that all was truly well in my world. "It's one of my favorite things, too."

Of course, Victor wasn't about to let that pass without injecting a grating comment. He turned to face my girlfriend.

"Inez, I can't believe that you're falling for this crap. It's clear that Pat does not trust you."

I was being baited here; something I'd fully expected. Victor was hoping that I would pop off at him, and tempting as it was, I knew that I would only be playing into his hands. I had to keep my temper in check, so I came up with a compromise that I was sure would piss Victor off: I treated him as condescendingly as he had treated me.

"Of course I trust Inez," I replied evenly. "Why wouldn't I trust my girlfriend, Victor?"

"Okay, then. Why are you here interrupting our session? You're checking up on her, right?"

"I told you. I was just bringing snacks and her flowers from the date you interrupted. I didn't want them to wilt. I also want to spend some time with her when you're finished, if you don't mind," I said without a hint of hostility. "Now, you two get back to work, and I'll just wait in the lounge until Inez is done."

"You'll have a long wait," Victor snarled. "We're not even close to being finished. It's going to be a late night."

He hadn't been expecting that kind of non-confrontational response from me. A touch of frustration was evident in his face, not to mention his voice, and I sensed an opening. I recalled some words I'd concocted recently in my mind, explaining exactly how I felt. It was high time to bring them out.

"I don't care how late it gets," I said in an even voice. "I love Inez. If all I get to do is fall asleep with her, and wake up with her the next morning, I'm a happy guy. If that's what it takes to ensure that she gets her degree, I'll do this every weekend if she wants me to."

The effect on Inez was stunning. She stood up, threw her arms around me, kissed me hard, and then turned and spoke decisively to Victor. "I think we've covered enough tonight."

At that, Victor recoiled noticeably. It wasn't enough to deter him, however.

"But Inez, we still have a lot more to do." Gone from his voice was much of its usual bluster; a distinct whine was evident.

"We don't have that much more to cover," Inez went on, still standing my my side, as she casually took a sip of her coffee. "Remember, you told me when you got here earlier that you wouldn't get called in to work early tomorrow. That means we can get together after lunch to finish up, right?"

"I have things I need to do –" he started before Inez interrupted him. The tide was turning, and I could see his bravado beginning to crumble.

"And I broke a date with Pat last night to accommodate your schedule, so your 'things' will just have to wait. As it turned out, I broke my date for nothing!" she stated resolutely, letting her head rest on my shoulder. I put my arm around her and squeezed her gently. I swore I could see the vein in Victor's forehead ready to explode. Opting to remain quiet, convinced that my girlfriend could handle the situation herself, I watched with growing anticipation as Inez went in for the kill.

"Also," she declared, "we'll have no more weekend night study sessions. I'm sorry, but that's non-negotiable."

"But I have to work during the week!" Victor shouted, throwing his hands up in protest.

"I've been very flexible," Inez pointed out, her demeanor still remaining calm. "In fact, I've been too flexible with you so far, and I'm sick and tired of it. If you can't fit my study schedule, I'll just have to find a partner who will."

"You can't be serious!"

"Oh, believe me, I'm plenty serious."

"You can't let this guy ruin your future," a suddenly cornered Victor spat out. "He's not worth it! You need to lose him. He's not good enough for you!"

"And I suppose you are?" I blurted out forcefully, finally breaking my silence.

Caught off guard by my remark, a telling expression of guilt crossed Victor's face; it proved beyond a shadow of a doubt what his true intentions were. I hoped that Inez caught that look, and dramatic confirmation that she had was forthcoming.

"Inez, I –" he started, but he never got to finish the statement.

As sweet as my girlfriend was most of the time, I knew that she could be pushed too far. Between her anger at Victor's derogatory words towards me, and the sudden realization that she'd been tricked by a weaselly asshole who was bent on destroying our relationship, she went ballistic. In a flash, Victor was wearing Inez's coffee, as a string of angry Spanish words left my girlfriend's mouth. Victor, shouting in discomfort as the hot liquid soaked through his clothes, beat a hasty retreat from the apartment. Inez followed after him, gesticulating with her arms and screaming bloody hell. Astonished at what I'd just witnessed, I stayed put. Upon returning to the apartment a minute or so later, Inez closed and locked the door. Then, she broke down completely, collapsing in my arms.

"Sweetie, I'm so sorry," she cried, as she wept into my shoulder. She repeated her apology over and over, her words broken up with sobs. As distressed as I was at seeing her in this condition, I nonetheless breathed a huge sigh of relief, for the crisis was over.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for, muñequita," I assured her, gently stroking her hair. "We're together now, aren't we?"

She managed a nod, as I led her over to the sofa. I sat down, and she immediately got herself horizontal, letting her head rest in my lap. Then, she started crying again, as she'd had a little time to think about the situation. This time, she wailed on and on, soaking my clothes with her tears, with me gently rubbing her back, for a good five minutes or more. It was breaking my heart to see her like this. As she began to settle down a tad, words came spilling forth from her lips.

"I can't believe how stupid I am!" she shouted. "How could I fall for his bullshit? I blamed you for being jealous! And you had every right to feel that way! And on top of that, I actually confided in that asshole after our fight last night! I told him I was getting tired of your jealousy!" That last revelation startled me a bit, and I knew I'd want her to elaborate on that later, but now was not the time for that. She once again broke out in heart-rending sobs, which slowly lessened in intensity. Emotionally and physically spent at this point, her sobs faded away to sniffles.

I moved to get up, fetching a glass of water and a box of tissues. Arriving back at the sofa, and sitting down with her again, I motioned her to sit up. I held a tissue up to her nose. "Blow," I directed her, as she obliged. I took another tissue and began to dab away at the sides of her eyes, which were red and swollen. Taking the glass of water, I held it up to her mouth. She sipped from the glass, as I held my hand under her chin. I placed the glass on a nearby table, as she once again put her head in my lap. I ran my fingers through her hair for a moment; neither one of us spoke.

Finally, wiping her eyes, she looked up at me, managing a smile.

"You really meant that, didn't you?" she inquired.

"Meant what?"

"What you said about coming all the way over here just to fall asleep and wake up with me."

"Of course I did," I replied with a smile, gently caressing her cheek with the side of my hand. Then, I put my other hand on the far side of her head, and held her face looking directly into my eyes. "That's how I always want to end and start my days." Through residual tears, she beamed at me. Even so, she looked drained, and I directed her, "Close your eyes." A moment later, she was fast asleep.

I slid out from under her and got the bed ready, pulling the blanket down. I went back out to the living room, lifting her sleeping form up from the couch, and carried her into the bedroom. Setting her down delicately on the bed, I turned off the light, before climbing in beside her. I drew the blanket up over us both, and then turned toward my love, holding her as if my life depended on it.

Somewhere in the middle of the night, I awoke to find a wide-awake Inez gazing into my face. Still in the process of waking up, I nonetheless looked at her quizzically.

She said nothing, instead pressing her lips against mine. We'd both been fully clothed when I'd drawn the covers over us earlier, but in the interim, she'd gotten herself naked. I quickly did the same. We made love slowly, sweetly, with lots of caresses and tender words passing between us.

Afterward, I wrapped her up in my arms. As she began to slip off into dreamland, I whispered in her ear, "This is all I needed."

November 3, 1985

Both of us were exhausted. We'd hardly slept the night before, and yesterday's events had tapped us out even further. It was nearly eleven o'clock when we awoke. We made no move to get dressed, however, or even get out of bed.

"I guess we need to talk," said Inez with a half-smile.

"We do," I concurred, nodding in agreement.

"I'm sorry," she began, before I silenced her with an index finger placed gently against her lips.

"We need to talk," I stressed, "not apologize. We already did that, remember? You accepted my apology, I accepted yours, so it's all good. I'd just like to know what's on your mind, that's all."

"I don't even know where to start," she said with a slight laugh. "I'll tell you the one thing that's bothering me the most, though. I feel terrible about confiding in that lowlife about you being jealous."

I wrapped my arms tighter around her, but said nothing, inviting her to continue.

"After you hung up the phone, I was very upset, but I didn't cry. Not in front of Victor, anyhow. He asked me what had happened, and I told him. Then, he said that your jealousy was getting out of control. I know now that he was baiting me. I told him that I was really getting tired of your jealousy, and..." she hesitated, lowering her eyes, " ... that sometimes I felt as though you were forcing me to choose between my academic life and my love for you.

"I knew right away that I'd said the wrong thing to him. He began to tear you down ... telling me that you were immature and lacked focus in life. I didn't let him get very far. As soon as he got started, I told him, 'Stop. Don't talk about my boyfriend like that. I don't want to discuss this any more.' We tried to get back to studying, but I wasn't in the mood. After about a half hour, we called it a night, and he left.

"I feel terrible about saying that to him, sweetie, even without knowing what I know now. But I said it out of frustration, nothing more."

I nodded, appreciative of the fact that she'd come clean about that. "Frustration was what drove me to act the way I did. And the single hang-up you had was that you didn't see his romantic interest in you. Given that you didn't see that little detail, it's reasonable that you might reach the conclusion that you did. I can't hold that against you, not at all."

She sighed, before continuing. "Yesterday, he showed up here to study at about threeish. He was in an unusually good mood, and now I know why. Right away, he told me that he wouldn't be doing a Sunday double shift at work, after all, and now had most of the day free. He told me that he'd like to do an extra study session, and that he'd like to treat me to Sunday lunch so that we could discuss, as he put it, 'the Pat problem.' I told him, 'Absolutely not. I don't want to talk any more about what happened last night.' I didn't even get to tell him that you and I had met for lunch and talked things out. After that, his mood changed. From then on, he was in a pissy mood for the rest of the day and evening."

"That's because," I pointed out, "you killed his plans to claim you on Sunday. He'd gotten you on Friday night and Saturday, and he got greedy. He wanted Sunday, too."

Inez shook her head sadly. "It makes me sick to think about how he fooled me. I couldn't understand how, if he was really interested in me, he didn't try to come on to me at some point."

"If he had tried to come on to you, what would you have done? I know the answer to that ... I'm just trying to make a point."

"I would have asked him to leave, and threatened to call the cops if he didn't."

"I know that. But more importantly, he knew that, too."

"You think so?"

"I know so. His plan was a lot more elaborate than simply coming on to you. What he wanted to do was destroy our relationship first. He figured out our weak points – your trusting nature, and my tendency to overreact – and exploited them ruthlessly in an attempt to create tension in our relationship. And he figured that once you and I were kaput, he could make his move on you." I'd been very blunt here, but I believed that she needed to hear this. When I finished, a look of astonishment crossed my girlfriend's face. At long last, the scope of Victor's ploy was apparent to her.