I twisted the napkin nervously under the table, knowing he hadn’t yet seen me, praying it would remain so. She was sitting next to him, charmingly flashing her milk white teeth whenever anyone spoke something remotely clever. I hated her perfect oval face, the way her dark hair curved sensuously around her chin and shoulders, her tall slender body as she leaned suggestively into him, speaking softly into his ear and smiling playfully when he turned a shocked glance to her. He smiled back. My stomach clenched.
Conversation flowed around me but I didn’t hear a word of it. Why was I here? I should have known better. He had a tendency to show up in all the wrong places at all the wrong times. Now I was at the Community Charity Banquet, which was supposed to be a completely safe because no one else under the age of 40 would be here. Of all people to break that rule he had to be here, and he had to bring her. Her head was thrown back in a charming full body laugh, I almost believed she was feeling real joy, I knew better, and she knew the crowd she was playing to.
I briefly pondered getting up from the table and making my way discreetly to the exit, from there I could escape and return home and to the safety of my bedroom. I just had to hold myself together that long, just till I got home, then I could allow my self to feel this moment, then I could morn, then I could be immersed in self pity and loathing, then I could remember how it used to be, how it should be. The memories started pouring in and I slammed the trap door shut on them. Now was not the time, not with her here to glory in every writhing moment of my pain, to laugh her soft musical laugh in my face and give me that look of utter disgust for something live that should long ago have been dead. I focused on an escape plan.
Long linen tables lined the hall, I should have planned better. I should have known something like this would happen and mapped out an escape route before I sat down. I was sitting on the wrong side of the table to disappear, I would cause a scene as I got up in the middle of the meal and walked the long way down and around five lined up tables to avoid walking past him to reach the exit. He would see me. My escape would be worse than lost.
Look discreet, look nonchalant, don’t draw attention. I poked at the pasta swimming on my plate. My chest ached, my heart was beating too fast and my diaphragm felt too tight, like it was trying to suck in every ounce of pain I could feel. It was turning into its own black hole.
A voice broke though my torture. I looked up to see Samantha’s concerned face. “Are you all right honey? You look a bit sick.” The way she was watching made me guess that I hadn’t responded the first few times she had asked the question. She was peering at me in concern and confusion.
“I’m fine.” I responded shortly and went back to poking at my pasta, she was a friend of my mom’s and I didn’t have the capacity to care if she thought I was the biggest loser she had ever met. His eyes were scanning the tables in a brief survey of the room and I turned my head to face the wall away from him. Maybe I would blend. My chances of surviving this meal seemed to be dropping rapidly, a hopeful guess put me in the 10% range but every minute I stayed my death rate seemed to be rising.
By some miracle the meal ended. Staff members were clearing the dinner plates and setting down deserts. My waiter leaned down to gather my untouched plate and gave me a queer look. “Are you finished?” I turned my head to him and nodded, he gathered my plate and time stopped. I hadn’t noticed I had been glancing in his direction to talk to the waiter but our eyes were locked. My breathing was quick and shallow and my face was getting hot as my body hit high gear fight or flight.
Through my peripheral vision I saw her slid her hand along the table to intertwine their fingers. Her eyes were bright and she wore a triumphant grin while watching for my reaction. It was too much. I was out of my chair and running down the line of tables and through the serving door into the kitchen. Cooks and servers were yelling at me, but I was out the back door before they had a chance to do more than that. My car was in the parking lot, but I had left my purse under the table at my feet in my sudden flight. I didn’t care. I kept running. Home no longer mattered. I just needed to get as far away as fast as possible.
I hiked up the stupid evening gown my mother has insisted I wear to my thighs to prevent it from tangling in my legs and slowing me down, and quickly kicked my 4 inch heels into a bush by the side of the road. I knew it was stupid and I was probably kissing my shoes goodbye but it didn’t matter, they were only slowing me down and I was still too close to the town hall to stop moving, even the few seconds it would have taken to grab them. I hardly registered the feeling of silky fabric flowing around my legs and billowing out behind me or the cold pavement as my bare feet slapped against it. I must have been quite the sight to see for anyone driving down the road.
I veered off the main street, it wasn’t worth the possibility of him passing me on the road. I ran as hard as I could for as long as I could. My feet were freezing and sore. I ran mostly in the damp grass, because it was softer and my feet were scuffed and sore from the coarse concrete. My body was hot with perspiration, the cool March air felt refreshing against my skin. My breath was coming in pants. I slowed down to a quick walk paying no attention to where my feet were taking me, I only knew it wasn’t home.
The cold grass worked its way to my nerves, my feet were numbing. I was missing my pumps; they at least would have offered a little bit of protection against the chilly air. Fashion had certainly not been my friend tonight. At least there wasn’t any snow on the ground; the last week had been showing signs of spring. I lifted my head up to get a clearer picture of my surroundings; I had no idea where I had been running or how far I’d actually gone. Up ahead was a low brown wooden fence, my subconscious destination.
I walked slowly to the entrance of the park. It was empty, too cold and too late for anyone to want to be there, anyone but me. I walked through the familiar bridges and playscapes making my way toward the lonely swings, and sat down. The chains were freezing just like everything else. I wrapped my arms and fists firmly around the metal enjoying the icy sensation as it pricked my hot skin. I rested my head against my raised hand and let the memories come. He would never come back to this place, I was safe here.
I closed my eyes and recreated my perfect image of him. I started with the dark shaggy hair and the soft brown eyes. I made sure to image the slight droop one of his eyes had, I don’t think he cared for it but it had been a part of his handsome face. I added the slightly crooked nose trying to remember if I ever knew what had happened to make it that way… he had probably broken it playing sports or something and I was glad I couldn’t recall the exact event. I pictured his soft, gentle lips but refrained from remembering they way they felt against mine. His hands were strong, working hands from the days he spent hammering together wood slats. His muscular hands led me to picture his toned arms and body and the farmer’s tan from afternoons spent piecing houses together. He had been clean-shaven with her tonight but I pushed that memory away and added a little bit of scruff to his chin. I liked the rugged edge it had given him.
It seemed a waste to recall this perfect image just to hide it away in the back of my head. Instead I indulged and remembered him sitting on the swing next to me. We had sat like this and talked plenty of nights in the beginning, it seemed right for him to be here with me now, and I could tell him everything and he would ask me everything and then chide me for all my fears telling me how good and strong I was.
“What’s wrong?” I pictured his gentle voice whispering to me.
In spite of myself I felt the tears coming. “Everything” I choked out, and grasped the chain even harder, I would be leaving with some serious hand indentations.
“Everything is an awful lot, maybe you could be a little more specific.”
“Oh Cade,” I was sobbing at this point; trying to wipe away the tears and snot before it hit my dress. “How could it have come to this?”
“Isn’t this what you wanted?”
“No” I sniffled.
“What did you want?”
I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders; I had no idea what I wanted.
“You always told me not to fall in love with you, said it was too early and we were too young. Was I supposed to wait with a promise like that?”
I shook my head; I wanted him with me so badly right now. I squeezed my eyes more tightly shut. I could feel my hold on his presence fading.
“I miss you,” I whispered as I felt my last tie to him disappear, I knew he wasn’t here.
I slowly opened my eyes to look at his empty swing swaying slightly in the light breeze. I ran my arm across my eyes and nose. I was a mess. I would have sold half my soul for a tissue. I thought about using the skirt of my dress but the idea of soiling it like that was too much. I stood up and the cold air hit me full force, I realized I was shivering and my body ached I must have been shivering hard core for a while. I rubbed my naked arms to keep the blood flowing in them. Time to go home, my mother was probably sick with worry, and her calling my cell phone wasn’t going to do anyone a lot of good.
I plodded slowly along the street, walking helped me warm up a little. I wondered how late it was, the moon seemed to be moving across the sky abnormally quickly. My feet made a soft slapping noise as I plodded along following the gentle glowing orbs of the street lamps. The road was empty. That was good because I wasn’t in the mood to be seen by anyone. No doubt my face was a mess and a lone girl walking along in an evening gown would be sure to draw attention. I was pleased my mind was able to focus on such mundane things. I would have to send my mom to search the lost and found tomorrow to see what happened to my purse and if someone happened to steal it, along with my cell phone, shoes and car… well I was past feeling anyway.
I turned the street and my house came into view. I stood outside a moment to look at it, holding off for one more second facing my frantic mother. It would have to be done sooner or later. My feet were killing me and I was too cold to last much longer. I walked to the garage and punched in the code. It squeaked open loudly. I made one finally attempt to clean up my face a little even licking my salty hands to try to wipe away some of the smeared makeup. I closed the garage and walked into the silent lighted kitchen. My mom had already gone to bed.
I knocked on her bedroom door, the light was out but she was a stickler to have us clock in with her whenever we got home for the night.
“Hey mom, I’m home,” I said softly.
“Oh good” her sleepy voice replied. Maybe she had been hoping I would find a friend and stay out late tonight. I had been spending way too much time cooped up in my bedroom at home lately.
I shut the door and walked to my bedroom noticing the clock for the first time 11:47 PM. Could be worse I told myself, trying to remember when the dinner had started… somewhere around 7, there was no way I had lasted there longer than an hour. No wonder I was so cold. I glanced in the mirror as I entered the bathroom, my face was as red as tulip but it was hard to say if it was from crying or cold. My scares streaked angrily across my face. One ran in a semi circle from my left eyebrow to my upper cheek, the other cut across the left side of my noise from the top to an inch above my lip. Amazingly they still seemed to be getting fainter. As expected my makeup was a disaster, good thing mom had already been trying to sleep. I wasn’t ready for an interrogation tonight.
I pulled the pins out of my hair and let it fall around my face. The bottom of my feet were black, I should probably clean the kitchen tile tomorrow, no doubt I left of trail of grime with every step I took. Walking in bare feet was dirty business. My silky dress was a bit crumpled but didn’t look to bad. I let it drop to the floor and stepped into the steaming water of the shower. I burned as it hit my face and warmed my skin. It felt like fire as it splashed against my icy hands and feet. I enjoyed the pain, it felt real. I pulled my hair in front of my face and watched as the water ran down and through it, then cleared it away and felt the water stream down my face hitting my eyelashes and making my eyes feel dry and a little sore. I tried to wash away the pain of tonight. There was nothing but me and the stream of hot water. No past, no present and no future.
Reluctantly I shut off the water and toweled dry. I wiped away some of the fog from the mirror and gazed at myself. The dull wheat blond hair, red face, and swollen grey eyes looked like crap. I glared at my reflection willing it to change. The glare only made me look more grotesque. I hate mirrors.
The thought of punching it like they always did on TV entered my mind and quickly floated back out of it. That was a bad idea for a few reasons.
A) There was a good chance it would hurt
B) My mom would be sure to hear the noise and come investigate, let the interrogation begin
C) I would end up having to pay for a new one, and funds were slim at the moment
My room was comfortable. I crawled under the sheets not bothering to dress and pulled my feather comforter tightly around me. Soft and warm. I decided against a replay of tonight’s events and forced my mind to think only of the color grey. Boring? Yes. That’s why I choose it. I focused every ounce of my thought on a dull grey ball and traced the smooth surface over and over in my mind until it was too bored to stay awake.
Sleep should have been a relief for my overwrote body. I needed a chance to recover. Clearly it didn’t care much what I wanted or needed.
It was mid day and we were at my park, running around the playscape, peeking around the corners and poles laughing at each other. Acting like we were five. It was fun. We ran up to the suspended bridge. I was on one side he on the other both of us jumping trying to super bounce the other with our own legs feeling like jelly. Then we were sitting on the top platform of the slide. My head rested against his shoulder and his fingers playing with the strands of my hair and brushing along my cheek. His fingers stopped moving and I titled my head up to look at him. His eyes were intent on something across the field. I turned to see what he was watching so intently.
It was her. She was moving with her curvy walk towards us. She stopped at the cement surrounding the playscape and smiled at me with her sly grin. Then softening her smile she moved it to him. Before I could even register what happened I was pushed out of his arms and he had jumped from the 15 foot high platform and was jogging smoothly toward her. My mouth opened to scream to call him back to me. She was in his arms now and he pulled her head smoothly to his and kissed her. Long deep and familiar. They walked off together across the field and I was left of the high platform sobbing and screaming to him.
My body finally jerked awake, too late to save me from my wretched nightmare. My face was wet with the tears left over from my dreams. I turned my head to into my comforter to stifle the broken sounds coming from my lips and punched the pillow a few times. This had to end!
