by Jessica Marx
I straighten my skirt, put on a winning smile, and open the door. I only swing it open halfway though. The face looking back at me is familiar. It’s one I could never forget - even after eight years. It’s not a Jones or a Smith. It’s an ‘Andrews’. Shane Andrews.
Shane. I have no words. I can’t speak. Everything I’ve wanted to say for the last eight years rushes out of my brain - even faster than the deep breath of air I inhale.
He’s a man now - clearly. His face is the same but more filled out than the teenage boy I last kissed goodbye eight years ago. His thick black hair is combed back in the same style he used to wear it but it’s slightly longer now. His once sinewy muscles are now very defined and thick. They fill out his chest and arms, and from what I can tell at a quick glance, his legs too. And those eyes. Those crystal clear blue eyes.
I stare at him for what feels like hours, but I know it’s only seconds. I have to determine for myself if this is really happening or it’s just a dream. I look into his eyes again. They’re staring back at me - I snap into reality.
Shane looks me up and down, “Wow. Can I come in?” he asks.
Eight years I’ve waited to see him. To talk to him. To kiss him. To punch him. Now that he’s here in front of me, I’m speechless. Motionless.
“Hey, Beth,” he tilts his head and looks at me, “can I come in?”
I say nothing but I feel my arm pull the door open wider and sense my legs take a step back. Shane walks in. I close the door.
“You look like you saw a ghost,” he tries to make a joke.
“Shane?” It’s all I can get out.
“Yes. It’s me, Beth.” He lets out a nervous laugh.
“What are you doing here?”
“I wanted to see you,” he replies simply.
“Now? Why?” I have so much more to say but I can’t find the words.
“I saw a sign and it made me think it was time.”
“A sign? Like a sign from God?” I ask in disbelief.
“No. Like a small billboard poster with your name and photo on it.”
“You disappear without a trace for eight years, then show up out of the blue because you saw my picture?” I ask, still in shock.
“Well, yes and no. There’s a lot more to it. Why don’t we sit down and talk about it?” He offers, taking another step into the house. I block his way.
“I think we’re beyond ‘talking about it’,” I reply, rage building inside me.
“Beth, it’s been a long time. Let’s just talk.”
“I know it’s been a long time, Shane,” I spew his name like it’s an evil word. I haven’t said it out loud in longer than I can remember.
“Beth, please,” he begs.
“How dare you!” I yell, “you should have explained years ago. You think you can just show up at my door and act like we’re old friends?”
“Well,” he starts. It’s evident that he wasn’t expecting this reaction from me, “this isn’t really your door,” he continues to try and coax a smile.
I fold my arms and leer at him. My mouth is partially curled into a snarl. I feel like a tiger waiting to pounce on my prey.
“And we are old friends.”
“We were friends. Now you’re just some guy that stole my heart, said goodbye, and never looked back. I’ve moved on.”
“I know you have. I know a lot more about you than you think.”
“I don’t know what to think, Shane,” I yell, “Until a few minutes ago, I thought I would never see you again.”
“Beth, I swear if you let me explain, everything will make more sense.”
I want to hear what he has to say. I want to know. I just don’t want to get tangled in his web again. I can’t let him know that he still has my heart.
“Well, let’s hear it then.” My arms are still folded in a protective stance.
“It’s complicated. Can we just talk a little first?”
“You’re kidding, right?” I sneer.
“No. Let’s just talk. Then I’ll explain everything.”
“How about you just leave?”
I reach for the door but Shane anticipates my move and grabs the handle before me. My hand lands on his and I freeze. The feel of his skin, the electric sensation, nothing has changed.
“If that’s what you really want, I will,” Shane vows, “but I’m not going away again.” He turns his hand so his palm is in mine and gives my hand a gentle squeeze.
I’m silent. I want to hear him out. I want to know what happened. But I can’t let him in. I can’t risk everything I have now for someone who walked away so long ago.
“You look beautiful, Beth. Even more so than I could have ever imagined,” he says softly.
I pull my hand back. I still have no response. I reach for the door handle again and silently pull it open.
“You broke my heart,” I say, holding back tears.
“I know,” Shane replies regretfully, “and I’m here to put it back together.”
I pull the door open wider. I can’t speak. I know if I start, I’m going to cry and I’m not going to let Shane see me shed a tear for him.
“I’m not going to push you, Beth, but I’m not giving up - ever.” Shane places his hand over mine on the door handle and squeezes it once more. He looks me in the eyes. It takes all of my strength not to reach for him - to jump into his arms.
“Never again,” Shane promises.
Without another word, he turns and walks back down the paved pathway. I watch as he gets into a shiny black Camaro. I can’t help but smile to myself. He always talked about having a Camaro. He looks back at me and my smile quickly fades. I close the door and stand fixed to the floor. The sound of the loud car engine pulling away snaps me into reality.
Did that really just happen? Did Shane really just come here? It’s hard to believe that after all this time, what just happened, is real.
I back up to the staircase and sit down. Tears start rolling down my cheeks. I have played out this scenario in my head countless times over the last eight years and not once did it ever go like that. I have so much to say, so much I want to know. I want to hate Shane for leaving - I have for so long. But seeing him again erased so much of the pain. I just wanted him to take me in his arms and make everything okay. For those few minutes I wanted to be his again. That’s not reality though. I would be a fool to let that happen.
I sit and cry for several minutes. For years I have ‘seen’ Shane everywhere I go. My heart has skipped a beat so many times when I thought I saw his face time and time again. Now, he’s here. I’m going to constantly be looking over my shoulder - always thinking he’s around the next corner. His image has followed and haunted me for so long. Now that I know he’s here, somewhere close by, watching, I’m going to be looking for him. I don’t want to, but I know I will.
I walk back into the kitchen and search through my purse for a tissue. My desire from the past begins to turn back into anger. I am not going to let him put me through this again. For all intent and purpose, my life is perfect now. I have a great career, an amazing boyfriend, and a family that stood by and supported me when Shane left. He cannot come back into my life now and turn things upside down - I won’t let him.
I hear a car door slam and to my own dismay, I hope for a second that Shane is back. I peer out the window and see another agent waiting outside, presumably for her own clients to see this house. I blow my nose and wipe my eyes, trying not to smudge my make up. I put my sunglasses on and walk toward the front door with my things. I don’t need anyone seeing me like this.
I open the door for the other agent, exchange a few pleasantries, and head back to my own car. I don’t even know what to do with myself now. I can’t go back to the office and I don’t want to go home. I turn on my car and decide to go sit at the coffee shop I frequent. Since I’ll be in public I’ll have to keep myself together and maybe I’ll even get some work done while I’m there.
I waste a couple of hours at the co
ffee shop, luckily I was able to bury myself in my work. I had a lot of catching up to do anyway. It helped to keep my mind off of Shane’s sudden appearance.
I’m so angry with him. As much as I don’t want to see him again, I want to be able to say everything I couldn’t when he surprised me this morning. I’m sure he will appear again. I just want to be ready for him next time.
I still don’t want to go home. Chad won’t be home until late again and I don’t feel like being alone. I leave the coffee shop and drive to the mall. I don’t really need anything, I just want a place to walk around where I can be anonymous. I need more time to collect my thoughts.
I wind up buying a couple of things while I’m there and grab some dinner in the food court. By the time I step outside to go back to my car, it’s dark and the mall will be closing soon. I head home knowing my house will be empty when I get there. I’m kind of glad though, I don’t feel like talking to Chad tonight. I decided not to tell him about Shane. There’s no reason to. He doesn’t know our history and I don’t want to make a big deal about it.
I shower and get ready for bed, taking my time about it. I’ve been in a funk all day. I need to snap out of it though. Life has gone on for the last eight years without Shane. There’s no reason it can’t continue that way.
I climb into my big, cushy bed and turn on the television. It’s almost ten and Chad still isn’t home. I don’t know if I should be concerned about him staying out late so often, but I’m not. I have no reason not to trust him and if that’s what he needs to do for his business, so be it. Right or wrong, I’m happy to have the bed to myself tonight.
I watch some mindless television for a while, although I’m not really paying attention to what’s on. My mind is on Shane. My emotions keep altering between pain, anger, yearning, curiosity, and confusion. I still have a place in my heart for him, but I won’t let him in again - ever.
I see the beam of headlights on my bedroom wall signaling that Chad just pulled in. The front door opens and closes. I hear Chad in the kitchen, rummaging through the refrigerator. Weird - he just got home from a dinner meeting. I roll over and face the wall. I don’t feel like making conversation with him right now.
Several minutes later, he makes his way upstairs and tiptoes into the bedroom. I guess he doesn’t want to wake me. That’s fine since I’m the one pretending to be asleep. Chad quietly changes his clothes and washes up in the bathroom. Delicately, he pulls the comforter back and climbs into bed, careful not to disturb me.
It’s not long before he is snoring. I lie there, unable to fall asleep. I try watching the television again. The volume is very low - I don’t want to wake Chad. It doesn’t matter, I’m not really watching. I’m still thinking of Shane. When and where will he appear next? What will he say? My head is spinning. It’s like the last eight years never happened and I’m a teenager all over again.
____________
My alarm goes off, but I feel like I haven’t slept at all. It’s early, but the smell of coffee lures me from my bed. I brush my teeth, put on my robe, and walk downstairs.
As usual, Chad is already dressed and downstairs eating breakfast. He looks up as I walk in.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he greets me, getting up from his stool.
“Morning,” I smile. He kisses me on the cheek as I reach for the coffee pot.
“How was your meeting last night?” I ask.
“I think it went very well. Everyone wants in on this project. I like hearing what each of them have to offer - especially over a surf and turf dinner.”
“That’s great. Even better when someone else is buying.” I smile at him again. I quickly think back to last night when he came home and went straight to the fridge. Steak, lobster, and still hungry?
“Oh. I got you a little something, Beth.” Chad walks over to his briefcase and removes a small box. He walks back over and hands it to me.
I look up at him and back down to the small box, “what is it?”
“Open it and find out,” he encourages me, grinning.
I snap the box open. Inside is a pair of sparkly diamond teardrop earrings. I stare at them and look back at Chad, “what are these for?”
“Just because. I saw them and knew you had to have them.”
“Thank you,” I reply. I wrap my arms around his neck, “you’re so good to me. Sometimes I don’t think I deserve you.”
“You deserve much more than I can give you.” Chad kisses me on the forehead, “maybe you can wear them with that cute little black dress on Friday night.”
“Friday night?”
“Yes. We have that event for the downtown revitalization project.” I’m still looking at him confused. I have no memory of making these plans.
“Remember? The contractor that wants to donate a community center? He is holding a benefit to raise funds to help with the construction costs.”
“Oh! Yes. I remember now. I didn’t realize it was this Friday. It must have slipped my mind.” I have to get my mind off of Shane. It hasn’t even been twenty four hours and he’s already messing with my head.
“Crazy if you ask me,” Chad continues, “he could have gotten paid for that project - a fact I will gladly remind him of on Friday.”
“I’m sure you’ll be able to get him on board, if that’s what you’re trying to do,” I assure him, “and I will wear my little black dress and these gorgeous earrings and do my best to make you look good.”
“Thanks for being you, Beth.” Chad beams at me, “I have to get going. I should be home a little earlier tonight.”
“Great. Enjoy your day.” I kiss him lightly on the lips, “thank you again,” I say, holding up the velvet box.
“Love you,” Chad says, kissing me back. He gathers his things and quickly organizes them in his briefcase, “see you later.”
“Bye.” I watch him leave and wait to hear him pull away.
I take my mug and sit at the counter. I open the box and stare at the earrings inside.
How can I be so selfish? Chad treats me like a queen. I need to open my heart to him. I need to cut Shane out once and for all. I can’t have someone that disappeared so long ago ruin my chances of having something good in my life now. Maybe I should look for Shane instead of waiting around for him to show up again. That way I can tell him what’s on my mind and send him on his way. Then, maybe, I can truly move on with my life.
______________
The next few days are uneventful. I show several homes to another new couple. I take the newlyweds back to the colonial I showed them - the same one Shane showed up at. My stomach is filled with butterflies the whole time. I seem to be waiting for Shane to pop in at any minute - even though I don’t really expect him to.
In fact, everywhere I go, I half expect him to be there. I haven’t drummed up the courage to look for him myself. I’m not ready yet. As much as I want to give Shane a piece of my mind, I also want to jump into his arms and have him make everything better. Just pretend he never left, forget about everything, and pick up where we left off.
On Friday, the newlyweds call me and ask to make an offer on the colonial. It’s higher than asking price so hopefully it will be accepted. What a great way to end the week - and keep Shane off my mind for a little while.
I write up the proposed offer from my home office. Chad arrives home early so we can get ready for the benefit dinner. By five o’clock the offer is in and we’re dressed and ready to go.
“You look stunning,” Chad complements me as I walk down the staircase.
“Thanks, you look pretty handsome yourself.”
Chad is wearing a custom made navy suit, his blond hair is combed perfectly to the side. He looks every bit the part of the real estate mogul he is trying to be.
I step toward the front door but he stops me. He takes my hand and turns me toward the mirror, “we make one classy couple. I’m lucky to have you, Beth.”
I lean my head on his shoulder, “you sure are,” I tease him,
“let’s go. I’m hungry. I don’t want to miss the cocktail hour.”
“Ladies first,” Chad replies with a charming smile. He opens the door and we leave for the catering hall.
_________
Although they’re not hosting this event, the Westbrooks are ready and available to greet the guests as they arrive. Arnold and Claire already have drinks in hand and look as classy as ever. They’re speaking to another well dressed couple whom I don’t recognize. Chad gives them a little wave. They excuse themselves and walk over.
“Hello, dear,” Claire addresses Chad, kissing him on the cheek, “and you look lovely, as always, Beth,” she hugs me gently, being careful not to ruffle her dress or smudge her make up.
Arnold holds up his snifter glass, gesturing a greeting to us both.
A server walks up to us holding a silver tray with some kind of skewered meat. I’m not picky, I’m hungry, so I grab one. Everyone else declines.
“Well, we’ve already been introduced to the owner of S.P.A. Construction,” Claire declares, “he’s very generous - obviously.” She takes a sip of her wine, “not to mention very handsome,” she adds, raising her eyebrows.
“S.P.A. Construction?” I repeat, “sounds fancy.”
“Nothing about construction is fancy,” Claire comments.
I stop my eyes from rolling before Claire can see. Sometimes I wonder where the Westbrooks came from. We grew up so close to each other, yet it’s like we lived worlds apart. I dread the day Chad’s parents will have to come to my childhood home to meet my parents. No doubt they would turn their noses up at my middle class, blue collar upbringing.
“It’s pronounced ‘spa’ but I believe it’s actually just initials,” Claire adds, trying to downplay the name.
“Well, they’re still doing a great thing for the community, fancy or not,” I reply amicably.
“Oh, there he is now.” Claire raises her glass, signaling for him to come over.
